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oh-so-scenarios · 4 years

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Loose Ends | three

⇢ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ʟᴀsᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴍᴘʀᴇssɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ...ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ sᴛɪᴄᴋ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀᴜsᴇᴅ.

⇢ᴄᴇᴏ! ᴋɪᴍ ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ x ᴀᴅᴍɪɴ ᴀssɪsᴛᴀɴᴛ! ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴇx-ғɪᴀɴᴄᴇs!ᴀᴜ, ᴀɴɢsᴛ, ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇsᴛᴏʟᴏᴠᴇʀs

**A/N: Yall already know the deal, there are errors! (Word count 6.03K)

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Y/N:

I have to tell her. I have to tell her. There is no way I can keep this from her forever.

I’m staring at the door that led into my roomy 3 bedroom apartment. On the other side was my 17-year-old sister. The bass of the TV was leaking through the door, letting me know that she sat in front of the living room TV.

Today was my 6th day working for Mr. Kim and since the heated discussion four days ago, he barely speaks to me. He barely lifts his gaze to acknowledge my presence and I can’t say I hate it, but I don’t like it either.

I can’t expect anything from him. The state of things was due to my decisions and even though I am fine with handling that burden, I wasn’t prepared to see his face every day. It’s slowly taking a toll on me. It’s picking away at my resolve and leaving me with a familiar empty feeling I haven’t felt in a long time.

Luna may only be 17 but she worries about me like a mother. It’s been like that since I could remember. I can’t recall when the roles changed. When did I lose my grips of being the older sister, and when did Luna take on that role?

I lean against the wall by the door, staring blankly at the floor. It’s unfair really, how I have leaned on Luna. It’s unfair and cruel because Luna should have been leaning on me. Regret bubbles up in my stomach and travels up my body to leave a bitter taste in my mouth.

Luna was always my mother’s favorite child. She was the one that received the most hugs, the better presents, and the compliments. As a child, it bothered me. Why was she more important than me? A mother should love her children equally! They should put the same amount of effort into each child.

But that wasn’t the case with Luna and I. Oh no, Luna needed the extra attention and love because Luna was sick. She’d been sick since birth, but our mom did a good job of hiding it from me. The random walks they’d take together while I stayed at home with my grandmother would leave me in envy.

But I found out as Luna got older and started to talk that they were going to doctor’s appointments. Juna was born with a weak heart. I never understood the details. Something about a tube she was supposed to have didn’t fully develop. My mother was hiding it from me because she didn’t want me to worry.

Doctors were telling my mother that it would be a miracle if she lived past 22 years old. A horrifying thing to hear from anyone. The fact that my mother didn’t crumple from the stress is unbelievable. This was after my father up and left us. My parents were never married, so when he left after Luna was born, my mother was one her own.

We moved in with our grandmother and my mom worked and worked. All she would do is work. We’d see her on weekends and that’s when she’d pour all her time into Luna. I grew to resent her. I was only 7 when Luna was born, so the present blossomed as I entered adolescence.

However, my mother passed when I was 16. A car accident took her life, leaving us to be raised by our grandmother. My mother worked like crazy, leaving money for that we used for Luna’s medical bills after she passed.

Well, as much of the bills as we could.

Luna adored Namjoon, and when things went to shit 3 years ago, she blamed herself, but what could I have done?

I took my keys out, unlocked the door and stepped into the apartment. Just as I predicted, Luna sat on the couch, her back facing me, with her laptop on her lap and the tv on as background noise.

“You’re home?” She called over her shoulder. She didn’t spare me a glance, clicking rapidly at something.

“Yeah.” My voice came out thin, which made her clicking stop. She looks over her shoulder at me, her short brown hair pushed behind her ears. Her thin bangs were a distray, a result of her running her fingers through her hair in frustration.

“Rough day at work?” She questions, keeping her eyes on me for a moment longer before turning back to her laptop. I take off my shoes, and approach the couch, barely peeking at her laptop screen. I take a seat on the loveseat perpendicular to her and watch as she starts to type something.

“An essay?” I assume.

“Yes ma’am.” She answers glancing up at me. Luna does school online, her grades being good enough that she convinced her school to allow her to do most of her senior year online.

“Luna,” I call out with a heavy heart, “There is something I need to tell you.”

Without a glance, she hums in response. She wore an oversized black hoodie with pj shorts she found on sale some time ago. She told me she bought them because of the design of avocados on it. I’m not surprised. She loves silly things like that.

“You know that new contract I started?”

“The long one you swore you weren’t gonna accept?” She mentions, smiling in a mischievous manner. She only did that because she was also against me doing such a contract. She knew I’d be miserable, and she was right.

“Is the CEO an asshole?” She asks but speaks again right after. “-It’s not like you haven’t handled some rude CEOs before?”

“The CEO is Namjoon.” I forced it out, and it feels like I was running out of oxygen when I said it. My words are quick and unsteady.

She looks at me with wide eyes, like she was waiting for me to start laughing and tell her it was a joke.

“Seriously? The Kim Namjoon?” She questions and moves the laptop off her lap and onto the couch. She leans forward, and she doesn’t look away from me.

“Yeah. He’s the CEO.” I show her a small smile before leaning back in the loveseat. I throw my head back and stare at the ceiling.

“You need to quit.” She orders.

I chuckle, “I knew you were going to say that.” I mutter, still gazing at the white ceiling.

“Y/n! Come on! You can’t keep working there! This isn’t good for you.” She argues.

“You think I don’t know that Luna? Seeing his face every day is wearing me down, but I signed the contract. I can’t leave.” I informed her.

When I picked my head up to see the worried grimace on her face, I sighed and sat up in the loveseat. It was usually comfortable, but today it’s softness was useless. I’m in an uncomfortable situation. This job is leaving me in a constant state of stress.

“It’s not too bad.” I try to lift the mood, “He barely speaks to me, so it’s nothing! He only speaks to me about work.”

“Y/n.” Her tone is different and she drops her focus to her hands in her lap. I know what’s coming. I know what she’s going to say and I’ve heard it too many times for my liking.

“Luna, don’t even go there!” I groan, shaking my head at the sad sad look in her eyes.

“Y/n, you keep saying this but...I still feel awful! This is all my fault! If it wasn’t for me You and Namjoon would have been marr-”

“Stop!” My voice comes out in a panic shriek, taking both of us by surprise. Luna jumps at my outburst, her eyes becoming wet with tears.

“Luna, you don’t need to bring it up again. None of this is your fault, okay?” I stand up from my seat, grabbing my bag off the coffee table, and walking around the couch she sat on, and down the hallway. But before I can go far, Luna speaks again.

“Do you still love him?” She shouts. I stop walking and stare down at the carpet. My chest tightens and I lean against the wall for strength. Do I still love him?

“Y/n? You still love him right?” This time her voice is closer. I turn around to see her standing at the end of the hallway, her hips leaning on the back of the couch. Her eyes showed pity, while she ran her fingers through her bangs. She always does that when she’s stressed.

We stare at each other and a moment of silence passes before she sighs.

“Y/n…” She whines, taking my silence as an answer, “You need to quit.”

“I can’t.” I answered immediately, “I can’t quit. It doesn’t matter how I feel. He hates me now. Plus, a man like Namjoon...you can never stop loving him.”

“M-maybe this is fate? It’s a second chance.”

I laughed at her notion and could only shake my head in response. A second chance? What a joke. The sad look in her eyes only makes me want to retreat. I turn my back on her and go into my room, feeling the weight of the past few days on my shoulders. I closed the door behind me and tossed my bag to the side before falling face-first into my bed. The painful memory burned into my mind. It burned like a new fire wound. It stung and the slightest thought back to it made my eyes water.

The heartbreak in his eyes will haunt me for the rest of my life, but I made a choice.

《 PAST 》

At this moment, I’d rather be swallowed up by the ground. I’d rather whatever higher power there is, strike me down and end my life at this very moment. It would be less painful. Pulling layers of band-aids from burnt skin would be less painful. At that moment my whole body went stiff. My knees locked, my muscles tensed and my lungs were struggling to take in oxygen.

Maybe it’s because I was holding my breath with my eyes wide. I stared at the man smiling up at me for the past 3 seconds.

3 seconds. It had only been 3 seconds but it felt like an eternity. I blink, and he smiles back at me. He’s on one knee, holding out the most beautiful ring I have ever seen.

Not a huge rock, but it shines beautifully. A dazzling circular diamond, with smaller diamonds lined around the band. The silver band itself sparkled. In the ring, I could see his love, his hard work, and our years of laughter, tears and good memories.

I left out a harsh breath, my head feeling light as I was holding my breath. My awareness grows and I become aware of where we are. At a fancy restaurant in which it was rented out, making us the only customers. The kitchen staff stood at the back of the restaurant, watching me for my reaction.

Namjoon. Kim Namjoon, the love of my life and the man I’m pretty sure the universe made for me and I for him. He stares at me with a smile, tears of nerves, and joy coating his loving eyes. It’s only been another 4 seconds. 7 seconds since I saw his lips move I say those words.

I couldn’t hear them as I was having an out of body panic attack, but his lips moved so I’m sure he said the words.

“Y/n, will you marry me?”

He said them and I knew he would. I saw this coming and I knew he was going to say these things...so now I know what I have to say.

I push down the dread pulling in my system and laugh. I laugh in his face, trying my best to not see his hopeful smile drop into a look of anguish and fear.

“Seriously Namjoon?” I cackled, trying to swallow down the tears that were burning my eyes.

“Marry you?” I hissed. He stays there on one knee, bringing down his arm that was showing me the ring.

“I-is there something wrong?” His voice trembles and it feels like my heart is turning to ash in my chest.

“Is there something wrong!?” I raise my voice, stepping back from his crouched figure, “Namjoon, what do you have to offer? What do you have to give that makes you think you could be my husband? We just graduated college and you don’t have a cent to your name because you went and got disowned by your rich parents.”

He gasps, shocked by my words.

“Y/n, I did that for you and for myself! You’re the one that pushed me to go against my parents plans for me. You said you’d stand by myself.” He exclaims, and stands to his feet, the tears in his eyes not the same happy tears as before.

“As you do what Namjoon? Write poetry? Help other people put out their shitty works? I need stability. You had that when you were listening to your parents.” My voice trembled towards the end, my resolve breaking with every second.

Namjoon narrowed his eyes at me and staggered back. It was as if his own realization left him physically drained.

“Y/n…” He pauses, staring down at the ground while tears run down his cheeks.

“Did you only get with me because of my family’s money?”

I love you. Namjoon I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I have no choice Joon, but I need to do this.

“Of course, I did.” I choke out, “After years of friendship, I knew you had a crush on me so I took it to my advantage...but there is no reason to stay with you now.”

He looks up from the floor and clutches the velvet box in his hands, “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe it.”

“Y/n,” He reaches out, holding a hand of mine in his free one, small pants leaving his lips.

“Y/n, please stop. This has to be a joke right? This is going too far!” He squeezed my hand, pleading with me. Hi eyes stayed on my face, scrutinizing my expression for any sign of a joke. He brings me closer to him, his familiar warmth and scent overpowering my senses.

He stares down at me, in disbelief and anguish all I could see. I almost broke. I could feel my eyes burning with what was going to be tears. My dearest Namjoon gazed at me with a death grip on my hand, knowing that if he let me go, I’d fly away from him like a balloon.

“Get off of me!” I yelped, taking my hand away from his and pushing him back.

“Y/n.” His voice broke. The sound alone triggered tears too well in my eyes. I turn my head away from his so he doesn’t see them. I grabbed my bag that sat out the dinner table and rushed out of the restaurant. My heels clicked as I got out of the restaurant and onto the street. I don’t know where I’m walking to but my legs just carry me, wanting to run away from the pain.

《 PRESENT 》

It has been a quiet day. It’s been a quiet week. Mr. Kim only speaks to me when needed, falling to having Sana deliver orders to me, making it so I only see Mr. Kim is passing. No surprise, and no hard feelings. This is probably for the best and if we can keep this up for the next 7 months and 1 week...things will run smoothly.

Mr. Kim is currently out of the office, so I sat at the desk with Sana at my side. She worked on some documents for a presentation Mr. Kim will be having. The rights of a book that will be made in a movie are up for discussion.

While I am setting up a meeting with authors who are looking to publish with Moonchild Publishings. It was 3:37 PM, 6 PM not feeling too out of reach. The place is filled with the constant tapping of the keyboard and the humming of printers and copy machines. Everything was going as normal.

I sat in my seat, my black & white checkered flare pants making me wonder if my curves were being shown off a bit too much. Despite Mr. Park’s wandering eyes, I was beginning to think that my outfits showed how hard I was trying.

I wore a simple black long sleeve blouse with some tan heels to bring the outfit together. I did a simple hairstyle and rushed out of the house, waking up a bit later than I usually do. The clouds were grey when I left the house, with a humidity thickness in the air.

So when I was returning from lunch, which Sana followed me to, I felt the first softy warning drops of a storm come. By the time when I reached the top floor in the elevator, it was a full downpour. Mr. Kim hadn’t left the building. He was out of the office but was somewhere doing business.

He had certain types of meetings that though they were on his schedule, the reasonings were unknown. I don’t ask questions, I answer them so there is no point in asking him for details.

I hear the elevator bing from down the hallway and I assume it’s Mr. Kim made his way back. I don’t plan to even look up, seeing as Mr. Kim doesn’t spare us a glance when he enters, so I stopped standing up to greet him, as Sana still does.

The coldness we show towards each other hasn’t gone unnoticed, making me think back to something Sana said back at lunch.

“You two really hate each other huh? Like old enemies or something.” She laughs it off and takes another bite of her sandwich.

I’m snapped out of my flashback just in time to hear the click of heels. Heels? That couldn’t be-

I looked up to see another familiar figure. An older Korean woman wearing a straight and non-form fitting white dress with a creme colored bag over her shoulder and nestled in between her armpit.

Her light brown hair was up in a neat bun with a sparkling brooch attached. Her light make-up and freshly done nails gave away the lifestyle she lives. She’s rich, she's well off. Her confident posture and expensive heels show that.

She holds her head high and believes she's above the people that work here. She’s also looking at me. No she’s glaring at me.

I stare back at her and the feeling of disgust crawls it’s way up my throat. I press my lips tightly against each other, clenching my teeth to force a somewhat presentable smile.

“Mrs. Kim.” My voice was strained, and my muscles were reeling in discomfort.

She smiles, that same smile she gave me 3 years ago. Pity. Disgust. Superiority. It was all in her smile. It was a victory smile almost, her eyes showed anger. Anger and confusion. She probably thought she'd gotten rid of me, but here I am. Back in her perfect son’s life.

“Y/n, we meet again,” she pauses, “the unfortunate.”

Sana looks back and forth between both of us, her facial expression going from surprise to confusion and finally understanding. She rises from her seat to say hello to Mrs. Kim. I, on the other hand, do no such thing.

I stay seated and stiffly look back down at the computer.

Sana sits down again, awkwardly clearing her throat and looking at me as if she wanted to speak. The slight trembling of my fingers gave away that I wasn’t going to speak.

“Hello, Mrs. Kim. Your son is out of the office, I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Sana informs her. I continue to type away at the computer, trying to contain the rage that was causing a sense of anxiety over my body.

This cursed, evil, and wicked woman. I look up from the computer screen

“That’s fine. I’ll wait in his office.” She answers Sana but keeps her eyes on me. She slowly turns around, happy that I’m watching her. I forget where I am for a moment and roll my eyes at the older woman just as the door to the office closed behind her.

I looked over to my right and met Sana’s blank facial expression.

“I’m not gonna ask any questions.” She says.

“Good.” I deadpan and look at the computer screen. I pretend that I don’t feel Sana’s stare linger on my profile. However, I couldn’t help the feeling of heat rising in my body. My body temperature was going up as my anger increased. I forgot how much I hated that woman. I forgot how STUPID she thought I was. Yet in the end, I was exactly what she always accused me of being.

A lousy woman that would take money over her son. That’s exactly what I did. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, my movements stopping but the trembling of my fingers continuing.

“Y/n?” Sana called. As if a thin string of my sanity snapped, I stood up from my seat, causing Sana to flinch at the unexpected movement. My breathing becomes labored while I stare at the closed double doors of Mr. Kim’s office.

Who was the real winner in any of this? Did I get what I wanted out of our stupid deal? Did she get what she wanted? She must have, her smug smile burned into my frontal lobe. It’ll probably hunt me in my dreams, and any random thought of it in the future will cause me anger.

Like an embarrassing memory that makes you shiver up and regret your decisions. That’s exactly what I’m feeling. I stomped away from the desk and down the hallway, those white walls leaving me to be drowned in my thoughts. I have to find the bathroom. I know there is one in this hallway somewhere.

I keep my eyes low, stomping quickly to seek a place I can let out my scream of frustration.

It isn’t till I crash into something hard that my parade is stopped. The scent is familiar but not comforting, causing my stomach to drop.

“Ms. L/n?” Mr. Kim's voice held no concern but confusion. Why was I not at my desk doing the work that was expected of me? I continued to look down, only staring at his expensive dress shoes and the carpet.

I took a small step back, my hands balling into fists to keep from reigning my anger onto him. He didn’t deserve that. If anyone is a victim here, it’s Namjoon. I have no right to take this out on him. I also had no right to waltz into his life as I did. He knows that, though not for the same reason as Mrs. Kim and me.

“Sir, I’ll be there in a moment, you have a guest waiting for you in your office.” I take a step to the right, hoping to bypass him, but he mimics me, blocking my way again.

“Where are you going?” He questions, this time crossing his arms over his chest. I don’t have to see his face to know he’s looking down at me with his jaw clenched. In the last 3 weeks, I’ve realized he does that when he suspects I’m up to something. Or what he thinks I’m bullshitting.

All those suspicions only being grounded in personal feelings, seeing as my work here has been nearly perfect. I picked up on his routine quickly and moved before I had to be told. His charcoal grey three-piece suit looked like a smooth fabric. Something else with a combination of silk. A sign of wealth.

I almost chuckle to myself at the bitter aftertaste of my choices. I couldn’t even want Namjoon back. It would only play into the gold digger impression I had him believe. I mean, no one expected a small-time publishing company to explode in success in its first two years, then dominate in its third. The 25-year-old CEO became a millionaire.

Whether it was due to any assistance from his parents, I can’t be sure but...it makes me wonder if he would have still succeeded with me at his side. If I have to lie to myself and say he needed me gone to grow like this, I’ll do it. It makes me feel better.

I take in a deep breath and slowly look at Namjoon, my eyes moving over his suit and the dark red tie, before meeting his cold eyes.

I mustered up a smile, while oozed with sarcasm. So unprofessional of me. But this whole work atmosphere is unprofessional. The conflicts of interest would make any businesswoman lose her shit.

“The bathroom.” I answer, “I am allowed to use the bathroom, aren't I, sir?”

He doesn’t acknowledge the testing edge to my words but asks another question.

“What guest did you let in my office?” The beginning of him scolding me. I could feel it. My eyes fluttered close in frustration.

“Have you forgotten the rules I laid before? Any meetings that weren’t on my schedule should be turned away. I do not pencil people in-”

“It’s your mother, sir.” My eyes open after saying, “The guest in the office is your mother. She let herself into your office, I was not going to argue with her.”

His face relaxes from displeasure to...discomfort? He groans and runs his hands over his face before staring at the carpeted floor for a moment.

“What is that woman doing here?” He says under his breath. I could barely catch it, but there was disgust and unhappiness dripping off the words. My brows furrowed, not expecting that. Their relationship wasn’t repaired after I left?

I bite my lip to hide the victorious smirk that threatens to appear on my lips.

“Carry on.” Mr. Kim says without a glance back at me. He walks past me, no urgency in his movements. I continued down the hallway, past the elevator, and further down till I came to the bathroom marked for women. I was lucky enough to find it empty. I stood there staring at myself in the mirror, feeling like I was having an out of body experience.

This is what people mean when they say your decisions always come back to haunt you.

I clear my throat and let out a scream of frustration, knowing that anyone who gets off the elevator at this moment could probably hear it up the hallway.

But I don’t care. I need to let this out. I scream against, this time bringing my foot up to kick an innocent stall door.

《 PAST 》

I don’t belong here. Anyone could tell that I don’t belong here. The eyes of every person that I met held the question of, “What are you doing at a restaurant like this?”

I was wondering the same thing. I was wondering about all types of things. Why did Mrs. Kim call me here? Why did she tell me not to tell Namjoon? Was she ready to stop forcing her and Mr. Kim senior’s dreams onto Joon and to let him do what he wants?

I bet she is still a bit shocked at Joon taking himself out of the family. He was disowned but also removed himself. The Kims weren’t expecting such action from their son. He was only 21 years old, almost 22, and fresh out of college with the Business degree they forced on him.

The world isn’t easy, so he surely wasn’t serious about throwing his family away? But he did.

They blame me. The whole family blames me and that’s okay. I was the one encouraging to do such a thing, so I’ll carry my weight of responsibility. I, however, can’t wait to tell her that both Joon and I are doing great without their money. It’s only been a few months since he was disowned, but I haven’t seen Joon so happy in all my years of knowing him.

“I’m here to meet Mrs. Kim?” I said to the host. She nodded, looking me up and down before motioning for me to follow her. I wore a simple tee and some jeans with sneakers. I wasn’t going to dress up for this woman. With how she moves about things, I doubt we’ll be eating anything.

The restaurant was huge, seeming to have different wings and sections for people who wanted to be away from others. I try not to gawk at the luxurious decor, noticing the judgemental looks from the host who was in front of me.

The hostess brings me to a small circular table where Mrs. Kim sat waiting. Her focus was on the table cloth. She traced the small details of the white and gold table cloth, not even looking up as I took my seat.

“Y/n.” She says sternly, putting her dark gaze on me.

“How would you like to make a deal?” She continues. My brows furrow and I cock my head to the side. I think for a moment before laughing.

“Is this like those dramas where you give me a check to leave Joon? Mrs. Kim...you must be joking? You didn’t really call me here for this?” I keep laughing but her stone-cold facial expression doesn’t change.

“I just want my son back.” She hisses.

“You can have your son back Mrs. Kim. You just need to understand his--” She cuts me off, frustration appearing on her face for a split second.

“You don’t understand, do you? Namjoon is never gonna open his arms to us as he did before! I don’t know what nonsense you put into his head, but if you get out of the picture, any last strands of this riff will be gone.’

“Excuse me?” I say.

“I don’t leave loose ends Y/n. You are a loose end of this rebellious and hard patch I’ve been having with my son. Which is why I simply cannot let you stay.” She smirks, reaching for the glass of water that was sitting in front of her this whole time.

She can’t be serious! What type of entitled selfish--

“Namjoon is going to ask you to marry him.” She states after getting a sip of water.

My breath is knocked out of me, “H-huh?”

“You heard me right,” she gives me a pointed look. As if she couldn’t believe that I didn’t see this coming.

“He told me himself Y/n….at least during an argument he did. Seeing as there is no ring on your finger,” Her eyes flicker to my hands that sat on the table, “He hasn’t asked you yet.”

She wasn’t giving me time to move past the initial shock of Namjoon’s proposal. He’s going to ask me to marry him?

I brought a hand to my chest, trying to catch my birth.

“Y/n, I’m sure it’ll be a lovely ceremony,” She pauses, “too bad Luna won’t be there.”

My happy mood is lost. The surprised smile left my lips while my face twisted up in pain.

“E-excuse me?”

“Your sister Luna,” She gives an ungenuine pout, “Poor girl is sick right? And from what I heard getting worse.” My eyes burn and blur with tears. She’s right.

Luna is getting worse and worse. They say she’ll need surgery soon because her odds aren’t looking good. Namjoon has done his best to be the supportive rock for us both. Luna already believes her time is coming to an end and I have to smile and tell her to stay hopeful, all while having the same thoughts.

She has been on the waiting list for a heart transplant for the last 2 years and we’re still nowhere near where we need to be. As if I could even afford the surgery once she gets a transplant.

The doctor told me it’ll be another 3 years before she could get a heart donor, and in the same breath told me she wouldn’t last a year without one. Life is cruel.

Mrs. Kim isn’t phased by my tears, and through my blurred vision, I think she smiles wider.

“Y/n,” She leans close as if she has a secret she’s been dying to tell me. Her dark eyes were now bright with mischief.

“Reject Namjoon’s proposal. Tell him you’re done with him and turn your back on him. That’s all I need from you and I can get your sister moved up on the transplant list. I could get her ready for surgery by tomorrow if I wanted to. I’ll pay for everything.”

I leaned back in the seat, a sob ripping through my chest at her proposition. My hands fell into my lap and I looked down at them.

“I mean, you’re not going to let your precious sister die are you?” She egged on, making my sobs grow stronger, “A big sister should do everything in their power to save their siblings right?”

Namjoon’s smiling face flashed into my mind, followed by my sister’s face. She sat there weak and scared in her hospital bed with a small smile on her lips.

“At least I'll be able to see mom soon.” She said softly.

I bring my hand up to my chest, slouching over in my seat with my hand gripping at the fabric of my shirt. It feels like my heart is tightening up. Growing tight in the grips of the reality of what’s in front of me.

The pain was running throughout my whole being, leaving me unable to speak words.

“So are you going to pick Namjoon or Luna? What will the choice be Y/n?”

I don’t know how long I’m sitting there crying but Mrs. Kim doesn’t stop me, watching me with judgmental eyes. It might have been the tears in my eyes but for a small second, I thought I saw some sadness in her eyes.

I struggled to catch my breath, sniffling, and wiping the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hands.

“So what will it be?” She asks when my breathing returns to normal.

I clench my teeth, fighting off the second wave of tears that tickled my eyes.

“I-I’ll...I’ll leave Namjoon. I’ll do it.”

《 PRESENT》

I walk out of the bathroom, knowing I was already 5 minutes past the appropriate time someone takes to use the bathroom. I walk down the hallway, my steps quick to get back to my desk before Mr. Kim has a reason to yell at me.

I meet an angry Mrs. Kim coming in the opposite direction. When we lay our eyes on each other, other steps slow, leaving us in a silent staring match. We stood about 4 yards from each other, the tension being so thick, I thought I could feel it around me.

“Seems like your son still hates you.” I jeer with a grin.

She snickers, taking slow strides towards me, “What? Does it make you feel like you’re a winner?” She looks me up and down with the same look of pity she gave me while I sobbed in front of her 3 years ago.

“All I know is that you weren’t able to repair that so-called relationship with your son. You should have known I had nothing to do with that.”

She stops just as she’s walking past me, her eyes forward while she stood right beside me.

“Don’t worry Y/n...knowing that the questions of ‘What If’ that haunt you at night will always cause you to hate yourself, is all I need. In the end...only a fool would think they’ve won such a battle.”

Her words make my blood run cold, and I grow stiff as she continues to waltz away, stopping at the elevators. I stand there frozen long enough to hear the ding as the doors open, and the ding as they close.

It seems this time around, there are no winners after all. Just two losses and a casualty that is the one and only Kim Namjoon.

∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ❣

Alrightty! So the story can finally start to really get moving! I’m excited! :D

There were people who told me they wanted to be on the taglist for this but i sadly lost the list I had!

Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! I’m excited to see what you think of it and how you think things will progress.

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psychedellic-phase · 4 years

Text

Fifteen (pt 13)

(gif by me! I use the iphone app momento)

tw: language, angst, mentions of drug use (relapse), mentions of miscarriage

word count: 7.3k (im sorry)

masterlist

series masterlist

Spencer got up from the cold tile floor, fuzzy unicorn in hand, and faced the window above the kitchen sink. He stared out of it, admiring the snow that was still falling lightly, wondering if it was raining in Seattle. His memory flashed to the last time he stood in the rain with you, but he tried to shake the images away. Instead he watched the snowflakes hit his windowpanes and melt. He hoped that maybe you were somewhere staring out of a window, admiring the dreary weather, and thinking of him too.

He found his place against the dishwasher again, sliding down as his mismatched socks gave way so he could stretch his long legs out fully. He pulled the nearly empty box onto his lap and appreciated the light weight of it, as he continued with his twelfth letter and thirteenth item. Thirteen, a number whose history of unluckiness stems all the way back to the thirteen attendees of the Last Supper, and tracks through the number of steps leading up to the gallows, all the way to the number of letters in the names of some of the most infamous criminals.

Thirteen was a haunted number, which rightly accompanied a haunting letter.

“This one’s long. It’s a month of tarnished memories packed into a few pieces of paper. So far I’ve gone through half of a college-ruled one subject notebook and I’ve had to change pens twice. It’s nearing 2:30, and the wine is finally hitting my empty stomach. Sorry in advance for the way my handwriting will be. I’ll try to make this make as much sense as I can.

If you look at your thirteenth item it is the notepad I stole from that resort in Florida. There isn’t much around to signify this letter. You don’t keep mementos from one of the saddest days of your life, but for some reason I took this useless paper and shoved it in my purse on my way out. Good thing I did, or you’d have no item to attach to these memories. Though I suppose that might be better.

The resort was where we were going to be at for our ‘babymoon,’ whatever that is. What a dumb idea, I’m still mad at myself for letting Garcia talk us into one. She just made it sound so appealing.

Once everyone knew I was pregnant, Hotch pretty much sat me in Quantico with Penelope. There were a few local cases where I was lucky enough to go visit the ME’s office, but usually I kicked my feet up in her lair while you were out in the field.

“A what?” I said one day as she ran DNA through CODIS. The two of us were drinking herbal tea, and I was barely 16 weeks. I just looked like I had a big lunch in my stomach, not a baby the size of an avocado.

“A babymoon. It’s like a honeymoon, but you go when you’re pregnant. It’s one last trip for mommy and daddy to go on and spend quality time together. How many trips have you and Dad-Wonder even been on?”

I shrugged. We didn’t travel much for pleasure. We traveled for work, so on our rare days off we liked to be at home.

“I mean we’ve gone to Vegas and Connecticut a few times.”

She rolled her eyes, “Visiting family, my dear, is not a vacation! I was thinking you two would go to the beach. You guys relax and wade in the ocean and Spencer can build sandcastles that defy every law of physics!”

I laughed at that. You and the beach? It just didn’t feel natural to me. Probably because you aren’t capable of actually relaxing.

“That does sound fun,” I said and I spoke to my barely there stomach, “And it would make daddy take a few days off.”

Penelope squealed and started clicking at her computer, “I’ll find a resort online right now! Okay so how about Marco Island? It’s gorgeous and in Florida, so it’ll be like eighty and sunny, even in the beginning of December.”

“I’ll have to talk to Spence about it. I mean I know it would be fun and all but we really should be saving money for a crib, and car seat, and bassinet, and high chair, and a rocking chair, and a baby swing, and a—“

Garcia stopped me from spiraling out of control, “That is why you throw a huge baby shower! People buy those things for you.”

I rubbed my tummy again, “Oh no, Daddy is very particular about what things are bought.”

“That’s why you have a registry, Momma Bear. Now, no more excuses.”

Before I could even call you, she had put in both of our requests for days off and we had a week long reservation at this fancy resort that you see listed at the top of this notepad, the “Crystal Cove”.

I was only slightly mortified that she did all this without me asking you. Mostly, I was happy. I was afraid you wouldn’t say yes, but if PG already booked it, you kind of had to agree. And to my surprise, you did.

When you got back from that case we were at home, you eating something I had poorly made from a random cookbook on a shelf. I had decided to start cooking more, so I could make homemade meals. I wanted to be that mom who cuts sandwiches into flower shapes and always has fresh baked bread and cookies laying around. I wanted us to be those parents; the ones who are so sickeningly in love that their kids roll their eyes every time they kiss. We were those parents, kind of, if we could even be considered ‘parents.’ At that point, I don’t think we were. But we were definitely in tooth-rotting, sickeningly sweet love.

“So, I have a surprise for you,” I said, coming up behind you and rustling your hair.

“Hm?” You said, stuffing your face like you hadn’t eaten in days. You probably hadn’t. You’re the king of forgetting to eat. Maybe that’s how you stay so skinny.

“I booked a trip, well I guess technically Garcia did.”

“A trip?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, a trip, to the beach. Penelope called it a ‘babymoon.’”

You laughed, “A babymoon? I’m not familiar."

I smiled and sat across from you, “It’s like a honeymoon, except it's just me and you relaxing and spending quality time together before this lil dude makes his appearance.”

You smiled, “I’m telling you, it’s a girl.”

I rolled my eyes, “It’s definitely a boy, but stop ignoring my offer.”

“Well, it’s not really an offer so much as it is you telling me that we’re doing this.”

“Okay, yes Garcia helped me book it already, and yes she put in our requests for days off, but you can say no.”

You did your little nose twitch scrunch thing, “I’d never say no to quality time with you, Love.”

You leaned over and kissed me, and I squealed, “I’m so excited! I have to buy maternity bathing suits now! Oh and a sunhat!””

Spencer smiled fondly, recounting that day. He was thrilled to go, minus the part where he’d have to wear shorts, and flip flops. Something about the piece that goes between your toes makes him squeamish. He was looking for the right opportunity to use something special he had bought for you, and you had just given him it. A week on a beautiful beach with the love of his life? That would be the perfect time to ask you what he had been waiting to ask you since JJ’s wedding. He was going to take Hotch’s advice; stop waiting, start doing, and get down on one knee with a blue velvet box.

He never got the chance to. The trip was supposed to be in the beginning of December, around your week twenty-four. You never got that far.

He got up from the ground, immediately digging around in a drawer full of pencils and compasses and rulers, finding the blue box in a corner. It was covered in pencil shavings and dust. He hadn’t looked at it in months. He held it delicately in his hands before opening it.

It was plain, but he remembered you said that was what you wanted.

“Oval, of course and silver,” You had explained to Penelope and JJ at a night out years ago. Derek and Spencer sat on the opposite side of the table, but his ears perked up at the mention of rings.

“I like just the band,” JJ said, admiring her own ring, “And I have Henry’s birthstone, the citrine, so I didn’t need another one.”

“What kind of stone Y/N? I’d love a pink diamond! Or a ruby! Imagine!” Penelope gushed.

You shook your head, “I’d take cubic zirconia, if it was coming from the right guy.”

Both Penelope and JJ stuck their tongues out, “Nuh-uh!” Garcia said, grabbing her phone to scroll through more pinterest photos.

“Spence will be getting you a diamond.”

You rolled your eyes and whispered, “Don’t jinx it JJ! And I don’t want a diamond.”

Her mouth dropped, “No diamond? Really.”

“Diamonds aren’t ethically sourced.”

“Lab grown! Get lab grown!” PG piped it, showing you a picture of a ring, just an oval in a plain silver setting.

“That! That’s the one!” You said and Garcia giggled, going on a rant about her dream wedding.

Spencer had gotten that exact ring. Lab grown, oval, classic, beautiful. It was what you wanted, and you deserved everything you ever wanted.

Spencer looked at the notepad. He could tell you had a hard time picking an item for this letter. He knows this letter is the end, the other two are the epilogue of a story he wishes you kept writing. Crystal Cove is the place where he had planned on asking you to marry him, but it ended up being the place where your love story ended. He tossed the notebook to the side and decided that the souvenir for this letter was now going to be this ring. This ring that sparkled and shined, even in the dull incandescent lights of his kitchen. This ring that belonged on your finger, and not in the back of a drawer. This ring that you didn’t even know existed, but if you had, maybe you’d still be together.

“I did buy three maternity bathing suits, and you bought shorts. Spencer Reid in shorts. It was going to be the best trip ever. We were going to snorkel and look at sea turtles and sunbathe and drink virgin piña coladas by the ocean. We were going to get couples massages and spend every moment loving and appreciating each other.

The actual trip? Much different than the one we had planned on paper, but let’s first discuss that time between the hospital and the trip.

It was four weeks. Four weeks of me sitting at home while you were off at work. Four weeks of the door opening and Derek walking through, not you. And on the odd chance that it was you opening the door, you’d be appearing at odd hours of the night to grab a new suit or a file or a snack and then getting back in your shitty car and going to your apartment. Each time I heard that comforting sound of your satchel hitting the floor, I’d crawl out of the cave of blankets I was in to find you, and you’d act like I wasn’t even there.

For the first few days, you asked me how I was and if I was feeling better, then you’d check your phone and wave goodbye. After that, I was lucky if you’d say hello, then I was lucky if I even got a glimpse of you. You never held me. You never kissed me. You never told me you loved me.

I got all my information about you from Derek. Every day I texted you, “Have a good day at work! Talk soon?” And everyday you didn’t answer, so I’d ask Derek if you were okay. He’d always tell me what you were doing. Usually you would take a stack of files of cases to a dark room and make preliminary profiles to send back to the departments, alone. I’d tell him thank you, and the next day would be the same nonsense.

Those four weeks dragged. It was like every minute was an hour and everyday was a year. I was healing, even without you, everyday I felt better and better. But that’s relative to the day before. I haven’t felt ‘good’ yet. I haven’t felt ‘happiness’ yet. But I will. And I’m counting on that.

My mandatory leave was four weeks, and at the end of that Hotch called me in for a ‘mandatory psychological evaluation.’ I didn’t tell you about it because you weren’t speaking to me, and even when you did you were angry and snappy and rude.

I didn’t pass the evaluation. Even though the BAU wrote those damn questions, I still didn’t pass. When my four weeks were up, you were expecting me at work, and I never showed. You didn’t notice how not okay I was because you were too busy handling your own feelings, which I understand. You have to take care of yourself first, deal with your own trauma before touching anyone else’s. So, your trauma was none of my business, a concept you should've applied to my healing process.

I was supposed to come back on a Monday and when I didn’t show you came to the house. You opened the door and yelled my name. It was a sound I hadn’t heard in weeks, and it felt good. I thought you had finally come home. I thought you were finally ready to heal with me, but you weren’t. You were there to judge me.

I think I ran to where you were, a smile on my face that I didn’t think I was capable of making, “Hey!”

You looked so put together in a neatly pressed suit, but your eyes exposed you. They were bloodshot and the bags were so large they almost reached the end of your nose. I had on one of your shirts; it was comforting at the time. Not so much anymore.

You looked me up and down, a small scowl forming on your face, “Where were you today?”

I took a deep breath, and I lied, because lying to you felt easier than telling you the truth. The truth that I was not deemed stable enough to come back, even though I wanted to. I needed to be distracted. I was ashamed, scared, confused.

“I-I didn’t go.”

“Didn’t go? You’ll get fired Y/N.”

I sighed, “No, my leave got extended.”

I could feel the way your eyes bore into my skull as I dodged eye contact.

“Extended?! It’s been four weeks.”

“I’m not ready!” I desperately wanted you to see through it. I thought I was ready, but the papers disagreed.

“Hotch let you do that?” Your voice was increasing and I found myself inching away from you.

“He encouraged it!” Another lie. He didn’t ‘encourage’ it. He forced me.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag and opening the door again.

“You’re leaving? Spencer c’mon I-”

You cut me off by slamming that door in my face.

That’s when I started closing myself off. I started dreading the sound of your feet against the floor at three am. I started to put my own walls up, but they would dull in comparison to the Great Wall of Spencer you built around yourself to keep me out.”

Spencer was always good at putting walls up. In fact, you were the only person to ever get him to take (almost) all of them down. There’s a side of him he doesn’t show anyone, a side of him that he reserves for himself, and when something happens, that’s where he goes. He goes to the corner of his brain where he feels safe, and the walls come up to protect him.

And in those last four weeks, he did just that. He put the walls up, shut you out, and decided that was better. Except it wasn’t better, it just was easier. It was easier for him to bypass you and find a new outfit for work tomorrow. It was easier for him to disappear in the office until the odd hours of the morning. It was easier for him to hide away from you, because when he’s exposed he always gets hurt. It was easier to act like everything was fine, even though everything was the opposite of fine.

He never needed to go to the house, part of him was drawn there like a moth to a lantern. He was drawn to you. As much as he didn’t want to see those four walls, he still needed to check on you. He just did it in his own damaged way. He’d get a glimpse of you in old sweats and a shirt with a hole in it, hair a mess and mascara from two weeks ago adding to your eye bags and he’d be reminded that he couldn’t be there for you. He would never be enough, and he’d retreat into the comfort of solitude.

He was so preoccupied with being hurt, that he didn’t realize just how much he hurt you too.

“I had forgotten about the stupid trip, and so had you. You were too preoccupied with work and not speaking to me and I was preoccupied with crying and trying to speak to you. I only remembered the trip when I got an email from the airline about the flight, they had to move our seats or something stupid. I decided that was a reason for you to actually need to speak to me like I was a person, so I took advantage of it.

I intercepted you at home one day. I had been sitting in the kitchen waiting for you. You came home at two am.

“Hey,” I said, immediately as you walked through the door. You looked surprised that I was up.

“Hi, I’m just gonna—“

“Spencer, stop. We have to talk.”

You crossed your arms, not leaving the threshold of the door, “No. I told you a million times Y/N, I don’t want to talk.”

“Not about...” I couldn’t find the words and you started up the stairs.

“Are we going on this damn trip or not?” I said, my voice cracking from lack of use.

You stopped, looking over the banister at me, “You didn’t cancel it?”

“I didn’t think of it until now. We’re supposed to leave in two days.”

You groaned, “Why didn’t you cancel it?”

I threw my hands up. As if all of this was my responsibility?

“I was preoccupied! Did you cancel your days off?”

You shook your head, rubbing your face, “No, God. Can we still get a refund?”

I was hurt that you didn’t want to go, but not surprised. As I stared at the front door from my spot at the kitchen table I decided that I was going to go no matter what. It was going to be refreshing to look at the ocean instead of an empty nursery. That would be my distraction.

“I-I’m going. I’ll pay for your half, but I’m going. I’m losing my mind here, Spence.”

You looked at me again, still contemplating your options.

“I get it, okay? You can’t be in this house, but neither can I. Maybe we can talk and stuff on neutral ground. I-I just want you there with me, the way it was supposed to be.”

Then you took me by surprise, you nodded, “Yeah, yeah we’ll go.”

I’m sure I lit up like Rockefeller Center at Christmas, “Really?”

You rubbed your eyes, “Yeah, we can go Y/N.”

I was feeling lucky, so I pushed it, too hard, “Are you staying tonight?”

Your voice went from sleepy to sour, “No.”

And you vanished up the stairs, taking all my hope in us with you.

I knew deep down it wouldn’t end well. I knew it was going to be fighting and yelling and arguing, but any time with you was good time with you at that point. And I favored the little bit of serotonin and dopamine you flood my brain with as opposed to staring at the gray walls of the kitchen alone.”

Spencer only agreed to go because he thought he was getting there. Everyday he felt a little better when he’d walk through the door, but he still wasn’t ready. He thought a week of no work and no one to talk to except you would bring the walls down. This would finally be the catalyst in a reaction that was taking far too long to complete. He also couldn’t stand the thought of you flying and spending a week alone. He felt better about you being alone here because you weren’t really alone. You had Derek visiting, Garcia dropping off baskets, phone calls from Emily, the odd visit from Rossi, and apparently phone calls to Hotch, but on that island you’d really be alone, and he was worried about how you’d handle it.

“So two days later we got on a three hour flight to Miami, and I drove our rental car to this resort. We didn’t talk much the whole time, besides some small talk about the flight and other odd comments. It was painfully awkward, and I regretted even coming.

We didn’t speak until I used the keycard to open the door, and we stared at the one king sized bed in the room.

“Oh,” was all you said when you realized you’d have to share with me.

“What?”

“There’s only one bed.”

I rolled my eyes, “Spencer, we’ve shared a bed for three years.”

You just stood at the door with your hands fidgeting on the handle of the suitcase, “I’ll call down and ask for a cot to be brought up.”

“A cot? Are you serious?” I couldn’t believe you, “Why come if you wouldn’t even share a bed with me? I said I’d be fine alone.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but changed your mind.

“Great communication skills Spence. Really, I’m impressed.” You rolled your eyes and finally started to unpack your bag, “I came because I was worried about what you’d do here all alone.”

Part of me was happy you were worried, but a bigger part was annoyed, “I’ve been handling being alone fine, thanks.”

You scoffed, “Yeah. That’s why you need Derek to bring you food everyday, because you’re doing so well.”

I bit my tongue and tried to speak calmly, “Well at least someone checks on me everyday.”

That shut you right up.

The three days you were there went as follows: we slept as far apart from each other as we could, despite how badly I wanted to cuddle into your arms. We’d get up in silence, eat breakfast in silence, walk to the beach and read in silence, eat lunch and dinner in silence, and each night we’d yell at each other until we fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed.

Remember what I said to trigger the fight on December third, your last day there? How could you forget? It’s the fight that broke us up.

“So, I was thinking of going to a counselor,” I said, staring at the waves lap the sand from the balcony of our room. The air felt cold for eighty degrees. But maybe that was just because the air between me and you had been cold for weeks.

You were sitting next to me, but I could tell you were worlds away.

“Spence,” I nudged, trying to snap you out of your daydream.

“Hm? What?”

“I said I’m going to go to a counselor.”

You twisted your face, “A counselor? What for?”

I shrugged, “I-I think it’d be good for me. It’s a grief counselor.”

You turned to look at me, your brow covered in sweat and your eyes watery. You were incessantly bouncing your left leg, rubbing at your nose, and you seemed disinterested in every single thing I was saying or doing. In fact, you’d been acting that way since the first day you disappeared to your apartment.

“Counselor? Yeah,” You were fidgeting, barely making eye contact.

A feeling I can only describe as pure dread formed in my stomach. I thought I might puke, but I swallowed the feeling and kept talking, “I got a recommendation from Hotch. He said he went to Dr. Stevens after Haley died. He said it really helped.”

You were still not listening.

“I think it’d be good if we went together.”

That finally got your undivided attention. “Together?” You snapped, “No.”

“Why not?” I said it with an air of exhaustion and despair. I was tired of this. So fucking tired of it.

“I’m not going to a damn therapist, Y/N,” You seethed, your metal deck chair scraping against the concrete as you stood in front of me.

The sky looked stormy, palm trees whipping in the wind as you came before me. The bags under your eyes looked like bruises, and you had on sleeves. It was eighty and you had on sleeves.

“Okay, I’ll go alone then. I think he could really help us though.”

I was giving up on fighting. I didn’t understand how when I was at my absolute low you could just keep kicking me while I was down. All I wanted was for you to go to someone and talk about it. That’s it. You were acting like I’d asked you to move a mountain for me, which, might I add, at one point you would have done.

“He? You really think a male therapist is going to help? You lost a baby, Y/N—“

“WE,” I clarified, for what felt like the fiftieth time, “We lost a baby.”

You rolled your eyes and ignored me, “You lost a baby. How does a male therapist help you through that?”

I was angry now. It was bubbling up to the top and I thought I might explode.

“He’s a grief counselor! He’ll help me through my GRIEF! And I think you should go because clearly you have a lot going on. You always have! You should’ve been seeing someone for years.”

“Oh, I have a lot going on?” You sneered, “Of course I have a lot going on! I go to work everyday to bring you home a paycheck so you can sit around all day and do nothing.”

I stood up, got close to your face, “I’m on leave.”

“Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that.”

You bypassed me and went inside, and my hot anger turned into wet anger and fat tears were rolling down my cheeks.

“Do you know how traumatic this was on my body? Do you? Everything hurts and you were supposed to be there! You were supposed to take four weeks off too! You were supposed to be there for me!”

“Yeah and who’s there for me!” You yelled, louder than I think you ever had; at me at least. You had thrown your suitcase on the bed, haphazardly grabbing your clothes from the drawers and shoving them in.

“I would’ve been,” I said softly, coming up behind you to grab your arm lightly, “If you had let me.”

You pulled back, “Don’t touch me!”

I reached up to wipe my eyes and crossed my arms in front of myself defensively, “I want to be there for you, Spencer. I do. Why won’t you let me?”

You didn’t answer, because even you didn’t know why. You just stood over the suitcase, one arm on either side of it, hair matted to your sweaty face, panting and panting.

The facts I had chosen to ignore were staring me in the face again. Or maybe I was just that oblivious.

“I’ve never seen you like this. This isn’t you, Love,” I tried to say in my most soothing voice. The dread had clawed its way back up to the back of my throat.

“Or maybe this is me,” you said softly, and I swear you were crying. Or maybe I hoped you were, that way we were both sobbing. That’s as close to togetherness as we could get.

“Maybe this is who I am now, or who I’ve been all along.”

I reached out for you again, but stopped myself, “No, Spencer. The real you isn’t this angry, and bitter, and mean.”

You slammed your hands against the bed, “Yes it is!”

“Is that what you’ve been doing all this time?” I said sadly, shaky breaths between words, “Is that what you’ve been going to your apartment and doing?”

You turned around, skin sweaty and eyes red, “What? What are you talking about now? God, do you ever stop talking?”

I snapped, ignoring your last jab there, “Are you using?”

Your face contorted into a sour expression, “Am I using?”

“Yeah, Spencer! Are you? Because I can’t see any other reason for why you’re so irritable and sweaty and out of it! So I’ll ask you again, are you going through withdrawal?”

You looked like I had literally punched you in the gut, and I kind of had. It was a low blow, I’ll admit it, but I was seriously worried about you. If an event would trigger you, this would’ve been it.

“What? No!”

I wasn’t sure whether or not I should believe you, but I knew I had to support you either way. I love you, even when you’re angry at me, I still love you. Even when you throw clothes and seethe at me through gritted teeth, I still love you. That’s my fatal flaw. No matter how many reasons you give me to stop loving you, I never will.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, lower lip pinched between his teeth. Was he really that terrible? He didn’t remember being so spiteful. Reading it back, he understood why you thought he was high, and he had thought about it more than he cared to admit. But he hadn’t touched the stuff in seven years, and he wasn’t about to start again now.

‘No matter how many reasons you give me to stop loving you, I never will.’

That line made him want to cry, hands clenching the ring box as if it were a stress ball. That line simultaneously felt like a stab in the gut and a breath of fresh air. He had given you so many reasons to walk away, and the one reason to stay was there in his palm, unused.

““It’s okay if you are. I understand this is a... hard time. I’ll support you through this,” I put my hands out to touch your chest.

“I’m not high and haven’t been in years!” You swatted my hands down.

“Then what the hell is going on!?”

“I’m angry and I’m sad and I’m heartbroken!” You yelled, going back out onto the balcony to stand in the rain that had started pouring down in sheets.

“Spencer! Stop!” I followed you out, tears mixing with rain to the point that I didn’t know which was which.

“I’m just confused! It’s hard to see the point in all this anymore. Maybe it’s just not worth it,” You said, yelling at the ocean not at me. Rain soaked our clothes instantly. Part of me was hoping this scene would end like the ‘notebook’ we’d kiss and you’d spin me around. I guess this is kind of like the notebook, it’s a story to help you remember us. Except you don’t have Alzheimer’s and I wrote 15 letters, not 365.

“Maybe what’s not worth it?” I was yelling too, just so you could hear me over the sound of the wind and the rain.

“This!” You gestured between us. I felt like you knocked the air out of me, my whole body stinging.

“But I love you!”

“All of this has made me realize that love isn’t everything! I love you too but we need more than that!”

That was the first time I’d heard you say ‘I love you’ in a month, but it was a double edged sword. I bit my lip so hard I think I started bleeding, “Love isn’t enough? Are you kidding me, Spencer?”

You swallowed thickly, “No! I’m not kidding. I’ve never been more serious!”

“So what? That’s it?” I said it quietly, but I wanted to scream at you. I wanted to scream that you were being an idiot. You were being ridiculous. You were being unnecessarily cruel. But I didn’t. I was tired and water logged. I had finally given up.

You ran your hands through your hair, “No–it’s–we we aren’t over Y/N. I’m just saying that it’s gonna take more than love to fix us.”

“Well maybe if you were ever home, we could actually try. But you aren’t. You’re always gone! So explain to me how we’re going to fix this. What’s it gonna take Spencer? What do you want from me?”

You took a deep breath, uttering words I was so sick of hearing, “We need space and time.”

“Space? Time? It’s been a month Spencer! I let you go to work. I let you spend every day at your damn apartment. I stopped calling. I stopped checking in. How much more space and time do you want?”

“Thirty-four days,” you mumbled, just so I could barely hear. The thunder rolled, mostly drowning it out.

“What was that?”

“It’s been THIRTY-FOUR days, Y/N. Thirty-four. I don’t know how you expect me to be okay after only thirty-four days.”

“I don’t expect you to be fine! I expect you to speak to me! To look at me! I want to go to bed crying and have you there next to me. I want to be there for you when you’re crying. The only way we get better is if we do this TOGETHER!”

The anger looked like it melted off of you, and I took that as my opportunity to approach. I threw my arms around your soaked body as you shook with sobs into my shoulder. I held you like my life depended on it, because in a way it did. You wrapped your arms around me too, and everything felt okay. We were standing in the pouring rain, holding each other as we cried, and somehow I felt more okay than I had in the thirty-four days prior. It felt like maybe you were coming back to me.

You weren’t.

We stood like that for what felt like hours, and eventually I pulled you inside. I wish I didn’t. I wish we stayed there, holding each other in the rain until the sun came up and dried us off. I foolishly thought the rain washed our sins away.

“It’s going to be okay,” I said, my head on your shoulder as we wrapped ourselves in towels, “I promise.”

You shrugged me off of you, going back to packing your bag.

“Spencer, stop packing, please,” I begged, grabbing the items you were putting in and taking them back out.

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” you said plainly, taking a shirt and putting it back in.

“I-I thought—“

“Thought what, Y/N? That because I cried to you and told you I loved you that we were magically okay?”

I stammered, “No. No! But I thought it meant we were in this together now.”

“You just accused me of relapsing an hour ago.”

“And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, but that’s not a reason you should go,” I pleaded, reaching for you again. I thought if you walked away I’d never see you again.

“You don’t trust me,” your voice cracked.

“No, Love, I—“

“Don’t call me that.”

The pain in my chest bloomed, sending a wave of heartache through my entire body. A heartache I still haven’t been able to shake. It’s still there. Some days it's a thunder crack and sometimes it's a low grumble, but it’s always there. The rain hasn't stopped.

I hadn’t even realized that you were completely packed until you zipped the suitcase shut.

“You’re really leaving?”

You stopped at the door, hand on the handle, to turn and face me. I didn’t need to use my profiling skills to see how much pain you were in, and my pain doubled at the sight. I’ve always been an empath when it comes to you, feeling what you feel like it’s my own.

“I am.”

I crossed the room and threw my arms around you, sobbing into your chest. To my surprise, you wrapped your arms around me lightly.

“I understand,” I said, looking into your eyes, “We can’t be there for each other the way we need to.”

You nodded into my shoulder, “Stay. When you get home from this we’ll talk. I just need a few more days.”

I shook my head, finally coming to the realization that we didn’t work anymore. We weren’t healthy anymore.

“Don’t bother. The writing’s on the wall, Spence,” my voice wavered, and I regretted every word as they left my mouth, “I’ve been waiting for that person from the hospital to come home to me. I’ve been waiting for the Spencer who lends me his shirts and fact dumps and eats IHOP and ice cream with me to come home.”

I felt your breath stop under my arms, “But that Spencer, the Spencer I love, isn’t here anymore. We need to be alone.”

I felt you shake with tears under me, and that triggered mine, “We have to break up.”

I wish I never said it. I wish I gave you those few days, but we both know those few days would’ve turned into weeks and months and we would’ve ended up here anyway. I wish you didn’t let me say them. I wish you kissed me to shut me up and told me I was being stupid. I wish I didn’t watch you go down that elevator, tears on your cheeks. I wish I didn’t spend the other four days in an empty king sized bed, crying for you.

I realize now that you changed. I did too. Instead of wishing for the old you, I should’ve learned to love the new you. I think I would’ve, if I had given it a chance. Actually, I know I would’ve. I think I’d fall in love with every version of you that could ever exist or has ever existed. You and I, we’re meant to be together.

I know you probably don’t believe in it, but I like to think that we’re twin flames; we’re two halves of one soul that somehow ended up in two bodies and constantly pull to find each other again. I’ve read a lot about them recently. Twin flames don’t necessarily end up together. They can even just be two people with an intense friendship. They’re people who help each other grow, even if that means they’re only in your life for a short time. I like to think that we are that case, and that in some parallel universe I’m with you and we have our daughter and we’re happy. I just wish that I was in that universe now.

I know it’s for the best that we went to the damn Crystal Cove and broke up. I’m sure someday in the future I’ll be pleased with that decision, but for now, I still regret it.”

Spencer stared at the notepad, eyes flicking between that in his left hand and the ring box in his right. He took the ring out and admired it in the light. It glinted and glimmered, delicately refracting light onto the cabinets. He slid it halfway down his ring finger because that’s as far as it would go. He imagined it was on your slender, perfectly manicured hand instead of his, but an ache formed where his heart was when he realized it’d never end up here.

Spencer grabbed the notebook. It was unlined and the paper felt flimsy and thin. He got up from the floor to find a pencil in the drawer the ring had been hidden in, and took it out to scrawl his own letter to go with his own memento. A sixteenth letter for a sixteenth item you had no idea even existed.

“Y/N,

I’d like to consider this letter sixteen, to go with the engagement ring that’s in my palm. I bought this ring the day after we ate dinner at Rossi’s and showed everyone tiny FBI onesies. I have your perfect ring here in my hand, a plain silver band with a lab-grown diamond in a four-prong setting in the center, just like you told Garcia you wanted. I should’ve given it to you the day I bought it, but I waited until the perfect opportunity presented itself.

What you didn’t know about the trip to the Crystal Cove was that I was going to propose to you there. I was going to get down on one knee in the sand at sunset after dinner. I even had a whole speech planned. I was going to tell you that I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love you, or that anyone would ever love me the way that you do. I was going to say that it amazes me how everyday, I wake up and love you more than I did the night before. And everyday I think it’s be impossible to love you and our daughter more than I do right now. I wanted to tell you that I want to wake up every morning and feel that for the rest of my life. I want the good, the bad, the ugly, I want it all. I want Korean film festivals and IHOP breakfasts and to talk to the moon. I want tubs of ice cream and overly sentimental flowers hanging from the wall. Most of all I wanted to say that I want to spend every day of my life making you happy.

That speech still applies today. I still love you enough to ask you, but I don’t think you love me enough to say yes.

It’s okay. It really is. I haven’t decided what to do yet, but if you do read this, just know that it’s okay. I promise you, it’s okay. I’m not the bitter, angry man I was at the Crystal Cove anymore. I changed again, and I hope you’re right. I hope we are twin flames and your soul will come looking for mine, and I hope it happens in this universe, not the infinite parallels that may or may not exist. I miss you and I want nothing more than for you to come back. Come home, Love, please come home.

-SR”

He stared at the notebook page, before tearing it off and folding it in half, placing it in his pocket for safekeeping. He went on his computer and bought the cheapest one-way ticket to Seattle that he could find. He needed to see you. He needed you to see this letter, see this ring. He needed to make this right.

The flight was a red eye, leaving at midnight, so he’d get to the Seattle field office by eight. He looked at the leather watch and saw that it was nearly nine. He decided had to finish, and he had to finish now, as he grabbed letter #14.

PART 14

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Taglist!

@l0ve-0f-my-life @aperrywilliams @helloniallslovelies @random-ravings @ajwantsapancake @andiebeaword @boiled-onionrings @frnks-stuff @icantevenanymore1 @mellifluouswildbluebells @rottenearly @sammypotato67 @blushingwueen @peaxhyjaes @justanotherfangurlz @juniorgman187 @mbowles23-blog @blameitonthenight21 @goldentournesol @rainsong01 @thelifeofadumbbitch @swimmingtrashwobblersludge @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @eldahae

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer x you #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #cm #matthew gray gubler #mgg #dr spencer reid

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ren1327 · 4 years

Text

Pretty Boy ch.1

“Come on, Girl.”

If you asked Ben Pincus-Masrani to describe himself, he would respond that he was thin, pale, not very extraordinary. Not even normal. Forgettable wallflower was he.

And he liked it that way.

He smiled down at his little corgi with her extra stubby tail.

Bad tail docking and a “defected ear” had made her less valuable to her owner, but more loveable to him. He remembered when his stepfather had told him about one of his business associates giving her away. Ben had cooed at her picture and the very next day, Simon had acquired her.

She was a year old now, her tail a little bump and left ear still folded halfway down. He knew it could pop up one day or stay folded over.

He’d love her as is.

She had been his constant companion since he had started University last year.

Bumpy wore little green and white booties and a matching vest for her leash, excitedly sniffing at whatever she found on the pavement of the city street they walked down. Ben smiled at her as she waved her whole back half, barking at a dandelion that broke through the sidewalk.

He thought yellow would be cute on her. It was quickly approaching autumn and he was due to buy her some more little jackets and boots.

Ben groaned as they passed an overfilled dumpster in a large open alley, the smell of spoiled milk making him gag. Bumpy led him away, as if sensing his discomfort.

He made his way to a one story building, Bumpy jumping up the steps one at a time to join him by the wood and glass door. He opened the door for her and she excitedly waddled in, sitting by the counter as an old Latino man with his grey and black hair in a ponytail came over.

“Hey, Santi.” Ben said.

“Morning, Benito.” He said with a smile. “Morning, Bumpy.”

Bumpy barked and stood, her hips waving back in forth excitedly.

Santi’s husband poked his head out, curly blond hair held back by a headband and his glasses a little smudged.

“Oh, Ben! You just missed Sammy.” He said.

“Billy Brennan-Gutierrez.” Santi scolded playfully. “Sammy said he changed his shift. Twice, remember?”

“Right!” He said. “Sorry, Honey. Must’ve been distracted by that new exhibit Alan promised to invite us to.”

Santi rolled his eyes good naturedly and smiled at Ben. “This man.”

“It’s fine. Dad was getting ready to fly over to New York for some party, so I was video chatting with him and totally forgot to text her on the bus.”

“Bus?” Billy asked, walking to the counter. “How did you like it?”

“I took the green line.” Ben said. “More…clean.”

“Ah. The public access line your father is funding?” Santi said. “It’s been an amazing help around the community. City planning is really a gift.”

“Yeah. Dad cares more about customer satisfaction. He even asked if the animals at the zoo were happy.” Ben said as Billy laughed. “And right now I know he’s gonna charm new investors.”

“I get it. It’s always go, go, go.” Santi said. “Billy and I will take care of your pretty girl. Go on to work.”

Ben kneeled and kissed his dog on her forehead. She wigged and liked his cheek.

“Bye, Bumpy. I’ll come get you later, okay?” He said and gave her leash to Santi.

He waved as he walked out and set out to a nearby bus stop with a green leaf, taking a breath as he looked at a message from his parents saying they arrived safely, his mother resting in the hotel room and his father already in a meeting.

“You got this, Dad.” He text back.

Brew-tiful Roast was the only refurbished building not owned by the college but funded independently by several of the first alumni and John Hammond himself. It was a brick and glass building with a brick and iron barred wall around it, where a garden area and several outdoor tables with wooden benches under a thick iron and heavy waterproof tarp Professor Carr of the physics department had donated almost a decade ago. Several other alumni donated money to modernize the area for student comfort and relaxation when the library and cafeteria were too much stimulation.

The inside was open with many well spaced tables, cushioned booths and a back wall lined with tinted muffled noise square privacy pods in the back. Many plants and flowers decorated tables, soft slow blinking white and blue LED lights showing where charging stations were and orb shaped hanging lamps that lit the café up.

Finally was a large refrigerated black glass top counter and display where many sandwiches, pastries, packs of baked chips and crackers, packaged fruit and several salads were displayed along with bottled lemonade, teas, sodas and waters that were always sold at a quarter. They could be taken to the counter and warmed after they were bought or warmed in one of the three communal microwaves.

“One banana avocado smoothie with fiber and whey!” Sammy called, smiling as she handed back change.

Ben’s finger and hands flew over the ingredients as he chopped, scooped and mixed the fruit before throwing it into a clean blender with ice and cold cream, and letting it run. Mixing it a final time, he poured the cold thick mixture in large cup with a star drawn on by Sammy. He put it on the counter where a young Latina woman with large glasses waited.

“No whip, just how you like.” He said with a smile.

“Thanks Benji.” She said with a wink.

Her best friend, Franklyn smiled nervously from next to her.

“What brings you to the front?” He asked as Zia sipped her smoothie with a pleased hum. “I thought you didn’t like being up here where there are so many—too many in fact, people.”

“Professor Malcom said it’d be best for me to get a few months exposed to more people.” He said and mixed caramel into Franklyn’s sugar free French vanilla ice coffee. “So I got low traffic shifts after morning classes.”

“How’s going clean treating you?” Zia asked, eyes softening on her younger classmate.

“Ah…” He looked to the side. “Got a bit of a no sleeping issue some nights, but hey. More time to think up new smoothies and teas.”

“You are aware this is Brew-Tiful Roast.” Zia asked with a smile. “As in, coffee?”

“Good thing Mr. Van Owen and Gray love it. Plus,” He smiled and put a hand to his hip in pride. “Yours truly has helped increase sells with my smoothies and tea mixes.”

“Way to go, Plant Nerd.” Zia said and slipped a five in his pocket. “For Bumpy. Get her some of those yummy carob biscuits.”

Ben handed Franklyn his cup. “Thanks. But you know I’m fine for money. With Dad and everything, honestly, this is just so I...”

Franklyn nodded. “We get it, Ben. Normalcy is…admirable.”

“Besides. I get to use my earnings to get my own place. With my own money.” He said excitedly.

Franklyn’s watch beeped. “Oh, shoot! I got to get to my Mathematical Theory class. Professor Murphy invited Ian Malcom today!”

“Get me an autograph?”

“He’s got five of the same damn book in his bag. We’ll get ya one, Benji.” Zia said with a sigh. “If you need anything—”

“I’m okay, Zia.” Ben said. “But thanks.”

She smiled as Franklyn sped out with a wave.

“Man, seems like forever since she took you under her wing.” Sammy said as the line slowed, leaving only a few people at tables typing away at laptops or talking among themselves.

“Yeah. Both Malcoms at Hammond University. Bet you he’ll crash Professor Malcom’s class.”

“He’s a Dad.” Sammy giggled as she wiped down the counter. “He kinda has an obligation to check in.”

As if on cue, her phone vibrated and she smiled at a picture of Bumpy sleeping on her back, showing it to Ben.

“Aw~” He cooed. “Send it?”

“Already done.” She giggled.

The door chimed and Sammy smiled at the newcomers before her face fell.

“Hi Darius. Kenji.” She said.

“Hey, Sammy. Got anything good today?” Darius, a paleo-researcher and Sammy’s classmate in zoological studies said.

“I got donuts.” She said. “And chicken pesto sandwiches.”

“I’ll take two of each.” Darius said as his taller Asian friend sauntered over to Ben.

“Huh, never seen you around here, Pretty Boy.” He said.

Ben looked up and froze.

Tall, tan, muscular and very, oh so very handsome.

Ben could feel his cheeks heating. “Um, what?”

Sammy’s hands came on his shoulders and pulled him a bit away from Kenji.

“Ben here usually works in the back.”

“That’s a shame. I guess you’re why this place is called Brew-tiful.” He said with a wink.

“Ben.” Sammy said. “Can you do me a favor and get more cups before the lunch rush?”

“Oh.” Ben said, snapping out of his trance. “Sure.”

As soon as Ben went through the kitchen door, Sammy slammed a hand down on the counter.

“No.” She said sternly.

“What?” Kenji asked.

“Brooklynn told me what happened with your last three girlfriends and boyfriend. All in a week!” She hissed.

“What?” Kenji asked. “There wasn’t a connection.”

“Here’s a connection. Don’t just date people cause their cute!” Sammy said.

Darius looked between the two.

“Kenji. Come on, Man. Ben looks…fragile.” He said.

“He works in a coffee shop, Darius. You gotta be pretty tough to work in food service.”

“Kenji.” Sammy said. “Not Ben.”

Before Kenji could respond, his phone rang. He looked at his phone and sighed.

“I’ll be back another time.” He said. “Looks like Dad needs to see me in person.”

“I’ll get back okay.” Darius said. “You go ahead.”

Kenji took the bag Sammy held out, slipping a $20 on the counter.

“Tell Ben I said bye.”

“No.” Sammy said with a deadpanned expression.

Kenji saw Ben look through the door of the kitchen window. He smirked and winked at him, enjoying how Ben ducked his head and reddened.

Kenji left and got into his car, sitting for a moment to watch Ben come out and shake hands with Darius.

“Damn. He really is pretty.” He said as he started the engine, big pine green eyes haunting his thoughts as he drove home.

-------

feat. from JP - Ian Malcolm, Tim Murphy and John Hammond

JP2 - Kelly Malcom, Eddie Carr and Nick Van Owen

JP3 - Billy Brennan

JW- Zia, Franklyn and Gray

Love me some side characters. Thanks for reading!

Stay Sweet~

#jw benji #ben pincus #kenji kon #jw bumpy #sammy gutierrez #darius bowman #jw brooklynn #yaz fadoula #jurassic world camp cretaceous #camp cretaceous #jw fanfic #jwcc #camp cretaceous pretty boy #camp cretaceous fanfic

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thedancefloorsilly · 3 years

Note

For the 300 Follower Event

f/o: [Romantically and Separately] Illumi and Uvogin

Pronouns: She/Her

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius

Appearance: I have brown skin and dark brown eyes. My hair is very curly and dark brown and reaches toward my mid-back. I’m 5’2” in height.

Likes: Chocolate, Writing, Watching tv, Reading, & Exercising

Dislikes: People that lie a lot, Peanut Butter, Peanuts, Pecans, Almonds, & Avocados

Hobbies: Writing, Reading, Drawing, and Singing

Personality: I tend to be quiet and just observe people. If anyone comes up to talk to me, I usually just introduce myself and listen to what the person has to say. Once I’m comfortable/friends with the person, I tend to show my goofy side, and depending on the person it can increase or decrease in weirdness. I don’t really tell jokes but my friends and family tend to laugh when I tell them stories/situations I’ve been in. I’m very good at listening, especially when it comes to people talking about their passions. I also don’t really touch people, the most I really do regularly is either is put my hand/elbow on the person’s shoulder(Doesn’t matter if they’re tall or short) or begin poking them in odd places. I don’t really know how to give emotional support. I tend to just stare at them while they cry their eyes out. I also don’t know how to take compliments, anytime anyone compliments me I either just stare at them or say thank you very slowly.

Reference: Since I’ve never been in a romantic relationship I can only imagine what I would do. My love language is usually giving people gifts, quality time, making sure the person I’m with is overall healthy, and sometimes annoying people(But only if they don’t get too mad). If I really want some type of physical affection/attention, I will never ask for it (I don’t really know why). I will usually just put my head on the person’s shoulder or just overall mess with the person. For example, if I want a hug or want to hold hands, I’ll just put my head on the person’s shoulder or begin poking them. I also don’t know when people are flirting with me, it would be weeks later before I realise that the person was actually flirting.

I hope this was enough info and also congrats on reaching 300 Followers!

This was enough dw!! thank you so much and I hope you like these :) 💞

Event: Closed

Illumi

- Illumi loves listening to you sing!! One time he overheard you faintly singing in the shower, and though it was a little low, Illumi was entranced by your nice voice. He then leaned in closely on the door to listen to it more, and that’s how he found out that you were a good singer!! The minute you stepped out, the first question Illumi immediately asked was “I didn’t know you could sing like that.”

- Well after that, he questions if you can sing for him so that Illumi could hear it clearer. Even if it might have been a little awkward with the blank stare he gave the whole time, little did you know that this assassin was enjoying it the whole time!! He was so soothed by your voice, and overall found it very relaxing. Once you’re done and after you ask him what he thinks, Illumi’s pretty straight to the point with it (”Oh, I thought it was pretty nice”). In reality though, he would definitely love to hear you sing more!

- When it comes to flirting, don’t expect Illumi to be good at giving hints to a person he takes interest in. With that being said, it might’ve taken you guys a while to finally understand that you and Illumi shared feelings for one another. Illumi has no idea how to flirt, and if he tries, they come across as very specific compliments. Not only that, but with him never experiencing how it feels to like someone, it’s going to take a while for him to finally understand these feelings he has around you.

- One thing you guys both like: chocolate!! (Just like Killua) Illumi also has an obsession with chocolate robots, as it was one of his candy as a kid. You guys could be sitting on the couch together, watching t.v. all while eating a bunchh of chocolate robots that Illumi bought using his money. Just saying though, don’t expect for Illumi to share them, since he’s very possessive with his candy. Right as you try and grab for more, the majority of the candy is already gone from him eating almost all of them!!

Uvogin

- With Uvogins very loud personality, he found it very easy trying to talk to you, even if you were more on the quieter side when you first met. Now, Uvo isn’t shy with anyone, so he was already very loud-mouthed and open with you when you guys only first met. While you were listening to him the whole time, Uvogin was leading the conversation, telling you a bunch of jokes that made you crack up, and a bunch of stories as well.

- Uvogin’s boisterous personality then started to rub off of you, which lead you to show more of your goofier side!! You then started to tell him your own stories that started to make Uvo crack up! He didn’t realize you were this funny from before, but he was a glad to know he now had someone to now joke around with!!

- Speaking of jokes, you and Uvogin have a bunch a inside jokes with each other. You guys will have those moments where you’ll throw one in a conversation, and the two of you will just randomly bust out laughing (making literally everyone else around you confused). You and Uvo also are the type where you guys will just simply look at each, smile, and then all of a sudden start laughing at nothing.

- If you ever want to exercise with him, then Uvogin is your go-to exercise buddy! He loves to exercise (as you can tell from him being ripped..), and what’s better than doing the hobby that Uvogin love’s with his girlfriend!! You guys are like your own motivators when working out, Uvo especially. He definitely won’t be afraid to try and cheer you on if you ever need it.

- Uvogin might be a little confused by your way of showing affection, since it definitely wasn’t his own way of showing affection. For example, If he wants a hug from the person, he’ll give them a hug! Then again, if you ever show that you might be uncomfortable by it, Uvogin will take the hint and back off (sometimes he might still be a little affectionate, though because thats just him).

- Now, during those times where you’re wanting that attention, Uvogin will kindd of understand what you’re trying to say. Whenever you lay your head on top of his shoulder, he’ll automatically be a little affectionate back (like placing an arm around your shoulder and such). The more he gets used to your little signs of wanting affection, the faster Uvogin is able to take the hint!

#300 followers event #working on requests woopwoop #one left! I didnt forget bout u ;D #queue

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sazzafraz · 3 years

Text

dropped a cup of coffee on myself at breakfast lets gooo

nodus tollens is my favourite chapter its not even close

like i actually LIKED writing it. i like writing in general but its about being someone represented with all the scary sword cards in tarot readings not actual fun. still annoyed i didn’t think of anything better than fucking HEMMINGWAY

A year and a half into working for Giri and Sasuke is sitting cross legged on top of a boulder looking out at a clear blue sky. They’re sitting by the edge of a huge cliff in Fire Country resting between assassinating some small time village leader and their next mission which promises to be heavy on full contact fighting. The sun is dipping towards the horizon, warm air ruffling their hair. Yumi is trying to throw Hiki off the cliff into the lake below, Haru is defleaing his dog and Sasuke is debating his next move in the long distance tactical game he’s playing with Juugo and Karin. It’s an Uzushio classic, like shogi but the board is made of three interlocked spirals and the movements of the pieces are based on the tides. Karin is slaughtering him.

fun fact: literally started designing that uzushio game because i’m a psychopath. it’s also the first of three references, two in the same chapter, of sasuke and his teams, and then one at the end where everyone gets together. to make fun of sasuke. as they should.

There are seven graves by the edge of the sea with a bright blooming flowers planted in the centre spilling over the cliff. Tall markers stand as high as three metres in the air wreathed with ribbons in the colours of dawn and day... Sasuke spares a look back as he enters and sees those graves and flowers. The flowers have colonised the side of the cliff, growing strong and sure halfway down the rocks, slipping into crevices and tangling around each other as they race towards the ocean. Huge blooms of colour, bright reds, light pinks and creamy yellows are knocked about by the waves crashing against the cliff.

if fuyuki even knew how much this colours sasukes opinion of her she’d beat the shit out of him. i think this was the second bit i wrote for her, after a few pieces of her and itachi. actually if she knew how much both of them are coloured by knowing her past she’d commit a crime. its pretty apparent to sasuke that these are memorials to children/those that died young and unfair. how would he know haha. i always intended the hashira and the uchiha as parallels. i think the lack of depth given to other clans sucks, especially when they have literally a thousand years of interaction. the only other one we have are the hyuuga which might have been an intended one but like. i’ve never bought it.

anyway, back to sasuke. dude loves kids. he doesn’t figure it out until he has nine of ‘em, but he has a view of children that’s incredibly sincere. i pretty much decided that on my own cause: a) its funny, b) he was fucking SWEET as a kid and i’ll kill you before i let you tell me that kid went away, c) he’s from a huge close knit family/community and liking kids is the only way to get through that,

oh. also fuyuki does cotton on to his emotional compromise and IMMEDIATELY lies so he likes her more. morals who?

“It seems,” Fuyuki says into the silence, “that Sunagakure has decided we have a problem. I sent Mamoru as a goodwill ambassador to Wind a few months ago. It went well, and as Suna is a largely neutral player in most conflicts I did not see the problem in allowing a small ambassadorial group into Oto to further the relationship. At the fourth meeting one of the Suna delegation proved themselves to be a puppet and assassinated Mamoru. They were in the process of trying to loot us when they were killed.”

haha oh my god gaara fucks himself so hard here. we’re gonna talk about it.

Now it’s leaving time and Sasuke is walking fast downtown, faces passing him as he’s bound for home base.

only two people ever commented on this. vip behaviour.

Shikamaru raises a hand and waves.

Sasuke waves back.

Shikamaru looks at him expectantly across the crowd. Distantly Sasuke notes that he’s the taller of the two. Head’s bob and weave around the marketplace, someone drops an avocado which is swept up a child and her friends, the scent of cooking spices drift down from the top of one of the buildings. Sasuke and Shikamaru stare at eachother.

i never wrote the short for this but this is shikamaru’s nightmare scenario. finding sasuke when naruto is not with you is the k12′s personal hell. because konoha and giri are tentative allies it would be poaching to bring him back and thats something people still take seriously. shikamaru goes and gets FUCKED UP so no one trusts his report and he can claim that it was ONLY MAYBE THE PRETTIEST MAN IN THE FLEA MARKET. naruto finds out like a decade later and is extremely pissed even if he gets it.

It’s a tale as old as the dust of the desert or the mountains that divide the nations. There is a boy who loses something. His honour, a cow, a sword. He has to leave his home to find it. He has to grow strong enough to do what has to be done. In the Son of Nobody the titular Son has to journey to the city to meet the princess and while he is away his family is murdered by a group of wandering bandits. Along the way he meets a beggar girl, the princess in disguise, and he allows her to tag along. There are many twists and turns, the Son becomes a noble shinobi protecting the princess and falls in love with the beggar. He finds the bandits that destroyed his home and avenges his family. But! Disaster strikes! The samurai have been told a lie about the princess and feel that their honour must be avenged. A group sneak into the princess’ room one night and defile her. One of the samurai is late to the scene and feeling so sick and ashamed of their actions kills them and ignites a real war between samurai and ninja. The disgraced samurai takes his own life in front of the princess as appeasement. When this doesn’t work the Son goes on to win the war and marry the girl.

this is just hatake sakumo. some creative liberty but its just the story of how he died embellished. i think some shinobi stories filter out and become like folk tales? like we’re gonna get to it. but there's no way they can have that kind of presence and no cultural impact.

‘Heart, liver, eyes ’ Kabuto says when he’s done, ‘and put the rest in the garbage.’

for sensible reasons kabuto is the scary one.

. Illuminated in the light of the lone flickering candle, bundled in odd cloth and grime, Kabuto looks faceless and formless. His skin has no color, his hair is limp, his eyes are turned completely inward searching himself for an some answer, some lodestone for the next leg of his journey. He looks like an orphaned version of himself. Sasuke has a brief moment of complete self-awareness. He stands above himself and looks down at the length of his hair, the uneven tan on his hands. His own eyes look at his boots, his non-descript travelling coat, the way he is never carrying more than enough money to carry him to the next town. He recognises nothing original, nothing remarkable. He’s as interchangeable as any soldier capable of swapping hands at a moment's notice. Many tools, many masks, many uses. He realises that that shifting formlessness is as much a part of him as his burning rage. It forms him just as fully.

i remember having a moment like this and it was so shocking it took me years to write about it. this nearly got cut, even though i now think its important. becoming ‘just a knife’ is important to sasuke’s development towards being just a guy. relating to kabuto is so personally disturbing that its sort of his turn towards leaving giri. kabuto actually disgusts him. unlike orochimaru.

“We called her the Fruit Eater after the foul seeds she planted in others which grew into giant poisonous fruit trees. When they’d plundered and destroyed the world enough for her foul tastes she’d eat the fruit from the trees and crush them to bone and blood under her feet. Her own children plucked out her organs one by one and cut them up into pieces. What they couldn’t eat they threw to the animals who turned into nine ravenous demons. They brought the demons together and sealed them into the form of a beautiful princess who was coveted by all.”

goddamn space aliens. i hate it less than most. i think i was still deciding if they’d show up at the end. either way i thought i’d just put them in in case i did. again, there SHOULD be a cultural footprint.

The problem is that the Uchiha are predisposed to have thick hair and the main branch, the one that descends directly from Madara’s betrayed brother Izuna, comes with a tendency for...unruliness that Sasuke has gotten threefold. At this length it seems to be largely growing up and out, gravity be damned.

aww my loving rendition of his stupid duck butt. i have unruly hair so his maintenance is essentially mine. its such a distinctive thing i think people should take more advantage of. i wrote in crashing tides that he’s just an awful fashionista and i think that holds true. he tries new hair oils ALL THE TIME.

#the author is present #part one part one

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eastertag · 4 years

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@hodgehegposts gift for @cookidoughlilac

Surfing prompt for @cookiedoughlilac

Gravity had never been John’s friend. As a kid, he had been the slowest of the five Tracy boys to learn to stand and subsequently walk, despite being the fastest to learn other, arguably more complex, skills such as reading and talking. Once he had picked up on those skills that required basic motor function, he set about mastering them in true John-esque fashion, not resting until he could stand, walk, run perfectly. Of course, this had been when he was still an infant, before two of his brothers had even been born, and it was rare now that he had any trouble with… well, anything. Sure, he was often wobbly on his legs when coming back to Earth from space, but when you spent most of your time floating around in zero gravity, such instability was to be expected.

His brothers- specifically Alan and Gordon- used to tease him about his sudden faceplants into the floor during the first few days of any trip back home, but such teasing had ceased the moment they had gone up to Five to complete their first training rotation with him. The experience of floating through air had been so disconcerting, and the grace with which John moved through the space station seemed so miraculous compared to their flailing limbs, that they had relented on the merciless ribbing John would receive each and every trip back to Earth, much to the astronaut’s relief. It wasn’t that he minded it, per se, but he had a much quieter nature compared to his siblings and the combination of hurricane Alan and Gordon could be extremely overwhelming after the quiet and solitude of space. Lucy Tracy had been the most understanding of John’s need for solitude within such a boisterous family, and it had been generally accepted that he would be the only one of the five brothers to have their own room as opposed to sharing before the move to the island had made any potential room-sharing redundant.

John was desperately wishing for that solitude now. He was at the island visiting, International Rescue having been shut down for two weeks to allow its members some much needed rest and recuperation. It was a difficult feat to suspend operations for that long, with various meteorological and geological calculations taking place to ensure that there was an absolute minimal possibility of a natural disaster occurring whilst they were offline, which also had to coincide with the GDF stepping up and taking over any human-made disasters. There was something slightly unnerving about the absence of alarms that usually punctuated every waking- and unwaking- moment. However, it was currently the fourth day of the family’s ‘staycation’- because honestly, they lived on their own tropical island, where would they vacation to?- and John had finally started to relax.

Until now.

The Gruesome Twosome had managed to cook up a plot that seemed essentially to be a method with which to mock poor John. It was hot, swelteringly hot, and it had been decided, unanimously yet without discussion, that the whole family- Kayo, Brains, Lady Penelope and Parker included- would take a day trip to the tiny stretch of soft white sand that made up the island’s only beach on the northern most point. A picnic had been packed, and between the ten of them enough blankets, deckchairs, umbrellas, frisbees, volleyballs, boogie boards and spades had been ferried down to the beach that John was sure that if money ever started to run low, they’d be able to sustain themselves for several years selling beach related paraphernalia in some coastal town or village. Not that they would ever get to that point, of course; Scott was remarkably good at finance administration and all five of them had inherited their grandmother’s frugality that characterised her generation. Tales of skyrocketing house prices and claims that avocado toast led to debt and poverty had seared themselves into the minds of the young and impressionable Tracy boys, regardless as to how true such claims actually were. As a result, despite Jeff Tracy becoming a billionaire following his retirement from NASA, the Tracy family continued to live much the same as they had before their mother died- that is, comfortably well off- with the added bonus of incredible machinery and their own island home that had only been bought in the first place to provide cover for their operations. But all the money in the world would not be able to save John from his younger brothers. He wasn’t sure how, or where from, but somehow two surfboards had been unearthed and Alan and Gordon were currently dragging an increasingly reluctant John to the sea’s edge, despite John’s increasingly frantic resistance.

“Come on, John, it’s fun!” claimed Gordon from one side of the frogmarch.

“But-”

“And it’s too hot to be sitting reading your book all day,” chimed in Alan from John’s other side. “Plus, it’s supposed to be a vacation, you can’t just sit around doing stuff you do all the time on Five anyway.”

“I don’t spend all my time reading on Five,” John protested. “I have a lot of work to do up there.”

“Yeah, like programme evil AIs who like to torment your younger brothers,” Gordon grumbled.

“EOS is not ‘evil’ Gordon, she’s just… highly spirited, that’s all. Once she gets to know you properly she’s delightful company. And a bit too good at chess,” John added suddenly, face frowning. Alan snorted.

“Yeah, that’s ‘cos she plays against MAX when everyone goes to bed.”

John didn’t even know how to respond to that, but it didn’t really matter because Gordon had dropped his vice like grip and was clapping his hands together.

“Alright! Surfing time! We only have two boards so I figured that you could use the body board, John, until you’ve got the hang of it and then we can take it in turns.”

“I still can’t believe you’re making me do this” John mumbled, even as he fastened the Velcro strip around his wrist to avoid the board drifting out to sea.

“Oh quit complaining, it’s fun. Now, we’ll have to go in pretty far because the waves are better out there,” Gordon explained, and the three of them waded more deeply into the ocean until it was up to John’s shoulders, the buoyancy and waves causing them to rock up and down in the water.

“Now, you want to face the beach… yeah, like that, and hold the board here… good, now on the next big wave, jump onto the board and it should take you back to shore.”

“Hmm…” John remained unconvinced, but narrowed his eyes at the shore in concentration. There was silence as the three of them waited and John could feel the hot sun on his bare shoulders, causing him to fret over whether he had put enough sun-cream on them. It wasn’t really fair that he burned with SPF 50 whilst his brothers got away with SPF 20 and a nice golden tan, but before he could pursue that line of thought any further Gordon shouted, prompting John to jump onto his board as instructed.

It did not go well. John didn’t jump far enough onto the board and it slipped, the buoyancy causing it to rear up and smack John in the face. As John opened his mouth in shock and pain the wave crashed over him, and he came up spluttering, his hair plastered down by water. Ahead of him Alan had managed to get upright on his board, the same balance and core strength needed for his space board on display. Gordon was not as close to the shore as Alan now was and was facing John, speechless with laughter. John shook his hand and attempted to wipe the sea water from his eyes, taking the time to catch his breath whilst Gordon waded back over to him.

“Yeah… you might want to try jumping a bit further onto the board,” Gordon suggested, his laughter mostly under control save for the odd chuckle here and there. John glowered at him. “Ah, come on John, everyone is like that the first time. Look, another wave is coming, if we’re quick we can catch it.” They faced the shore again and this time John jumped high enough that the wave caught the board, washing it up towards the shore, Gordon whooping in his ear in delight.

The cycle continued until John was able to get it right every time, finally relaxing into the activity and allowing a broad grin to grace his face, before Alan approached with his surfboard.

“What do you say, John? Fancy proper surfing?”

John cast his mind back to all the times that he had had difficulty with remaining upright whilst on Earth and his grievance with gravity, before shaking his head.

“…no. I think I’ll leave the surfing up to you guys.”

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2004 #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds tos #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #alan tracy #submission

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lilibetts · 5 years

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for Tricks and Treats of Riverdale Theme # whichever freaking one involves spooky shit like possession or whatever.

“So, what are you going to be for Halloween, Jughead?”

It was the question Jughead dreaded the most, especially coming from Betty.

He had just gotten an afterschool job at the Twilight Drive-In and he’d been working as many hours as he possibly could on top of school and babysitting Jellybean to afford costumes for both of them. But then it turned out they were behind on the phone bill, so he spent most of his money to make sure it was paid up through the next month.

“Uh, it’s a surprise. What about you, Betty? Are you going as Nancy Drew again this year?”

She bit her lip and looked down at her shoes. “No, I decided to change things up now that we’re in high school. So I’m going as a medieval princess, kind of like Game of Thrones but not character-specific.”

Jughead was sure her choice had absolutely nothing to do with how last month Archie had announced he was going as a medieval knight. Then their indecisive friend had changed his mind and picked Spider-Man after Veronica Lodge wouldn’t stop waxing poetic about how yummy Tom Holland was.

“Cool. I guess I’ll see you later tonight?”

“You’d better!” Betty chirped, pontytail swishing violently as she skipped away. She didn’t mean that as anything more than her usual staunch commitment to kindness and friendship. And Betty was friendly with virtually everyone. Jughead sighed miserably as he watched her turn off towards her home.

Ah, the pangs of unrequited love.

He had been living with his crush on Betty Cooper for the better part of four months, which was an eternity in the timespan of a fourteen-slash-fifteen year old boy. And he’d keep living with his crush until it granted him mercy and faded. Or he died of old age.

Whichever came first.

******************************

Betty stood before her bed, staring down at the costume she’d bought when she thought she would complement Archie’s own, and felt monumentally stupid. What if Archie hadn’t changed his mind and she showed up in this medieval princess gown? She’d look obvious. Everyone would be snickering behind her back about Betty Cooper and her pathetic crush on Archie Andrews.

There was no way she could do this.

Pulling down the ladder, Betty headed up into the attic and started going through the boxes, looking for something radically different that she could pull together at the last minute. It was in an old trunk of her mom’s that she found it: a black leather jacket. It was the last thing she expected her mom to have ever owned but her curiosity was dashed by the figurative lightbulb going off above her head.

“Yes!”

Back there, on the clothes rack, there’d been...yes, Polly’s Homecoming dress from last year! It was long, just a shade off-white, and perfect.

Crushes made teenage girls do stupid things, that was true, but that only made moments of determined defiance like this all the more sweeter.

**********************************

“That...is not a medieval princess.”

Jughead took in her outfit with raised eyebrows.

“Well spotted, Jughead.” She smiled even as she rolled her eyes at him. “For your information I am Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It’s actually perfect because her name is Buffy Anne and Buffy is a variation of Elizabeth and—”

“—and your middle name is Ann.”

“I didn’t think you remembered my middle name, Juggie.”

“Well I do. Not much escapes this steel trap here.” He rapped his knuckles against his forehead. “Interesting prop you have there, Buffy Cooper.”

She held the wooden stake aloft. “I didn’t have a crossbow lying around, but I did find enough in the garage to fashion myself a stake.” Then she looked him up and down. “You do look rather dashing, Sir Juggie.”

She didn’t mention that his costume had been Archie’s first, one of the many acts of charity from the Andrews family. He was mostly grateful that Betty had changed hers, so that he didn’t seem obviously, pathetically in love with her by matching.

They were two years too young for couples costumes.

And y’know...not actually together.

************************************

Betty wasn’t entirely aware of it happening. One moment, she was laughing and crossing the street with Jughead, Archie, and Veronica, surrounded by dozens of other trick-or-treaters, the next she was holding her stake at the ready and keeping a careful eye on the four year-old vampire hissing as he ran at a shrieking fairy.

She managed to fly away and the baby vamp’s mother grabbed ahold of him. “I VANT TO SUCK YOUR BLOOD! I VANT! I VANT!” He screeched as he kicked and struggled in vain to free himself.

A woman stood in the middle of the street, hysterically crying as she cradled a giant halved avocado.

Demons, small skeletons, and ghouls of all sorts were running after confused and terrified adults, only for their attacks to be thwarted by a legion of mini superheros. A tiny Captain America with a star-spangled tutu flung her shield at a troll and knocked it out cold.

A bear wearing a blue-and-gold letterman jacket charged down the street and the strange boy crouched next to her...who was apparently Spider-Man...leaped away, slinging webs at the houses as he went. The bear continued to chase him and so Buffy shrugged and turned her attention to the zombies lumbering at a group of scared parents.

No sooner had she slammed one down into the concrete than a dashing knight with a black and gold cape and a sword came to her rescue and dispatched the second zombie. The third found himself floating in the air helplessly while a raven-haired girl with glasses, some kind of private-school uniform, and a purple/black tie pointed a wand at it.

Buffy spun her stake with her fingers and addressed the dark-haired knight wearing, of all things, a gray crown beanie. “Thanks. I’m not usually the damsel type, even if I’m frequently distressed. But if knights in shining armor look like you, then feel free to rescue me anytime.”

“You wouldn’t need to ask, my lady.” The knight bowed low. “If I may ask, what are you called?”

“Me? I’m Buffy Summers.”

“I wouldn’t dare be so familiar. I shall call you Lady Elizabeth.”

Buffy shrugged. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me a lady, but sure, let’s go with that. And what do they call you, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Delicious?”

“Prince Forsythe Pendleton Jones, the third.”

She whistled. “Sounds like a mouthful.”

He sheathed his sword and gave her a wink and a charming smile. Butterflies erupted in Buffy’s stomach, and for once, it wasn’t monster-related cramps.

********************

Prince Forsythe could hardly tear his eyes away from the strange woman who looked like a princess and yet fought the droves of warped creatures at his side like a warrior. She was clever and very forward.

“You know,” she said after sending a werewolf flying into some nearby bushes. “It’s kind of a thing around these parts for two warriors to share a kiss after emerging victorious in battle.”

Very forward.

After growing up around the palace and the constraints upon behavior between men and women, Forsythe found Buf- Lady Elizabeth refreshing. “That could be arranged, my lady.”

He tapped the pommel of his sword against the mangled gray skull of...hell, he didn’t have the faintest clue what that being was. But small as it was, it kept growling and trying to eat someone’s pet dog.

The witch with the indecent dress length stuck her finger in the air. “Merlin’s Beard, I’ve got it! I know who the Dark Lord is that’s casted a spell on all of us! You two, hold them off while I duel with Mr. Honey. You! Ginger girl with the candelabra? Keep on running across the lawns, lead the rest of them away!”

Forsythe twisted around and spotted the lady with flowing red locks and an elaborate nightrail, rushing across the green holding a three-pronged candlestick aloft.

Lady Elizabeth turned back to him. “FYI, I better be the only one you’re My Lady-ing, because I’m definitely a one-prince woman.” She executed a peculiar spinning kick that was all lethal grace and a sinister red-horned devil became entangled in an enormous spider’s web.

“Of course!” He shot back, insulted that she would think so low of him. “I’m no scoundrel!”

When Lady Elizabeth smiled at him then, it was as if the dark clouds that always followed him had parted, and there shone the sun.

They dispatched the last of the hostile creatures, with the assistance of other tiny, brightly colored warriors, and one very small princess with no qualms about using her scepter as a hammer.

The battle finished, Forsythe drove his sword into the ground and curled his arms around his Lady Buffy, dipping her backwards in a hard and exuberant kiss.

*****************************

Buffy curled her arms around her prince in gray beanie and kissed him back just as enthusiastically. Had she ever had a kiss like this before? Maybe it’d just been so long because of the pressures of being a Slayer. It was hard to have a normal dating life when you had to vanquish the forces of evil every other week, and then pass pop quizzes.

His lips were so soft against hers, and she felt the tingling all the way down to her toes. Betty gasped against Jughead’s lips, her head feeling strangely fuzzy all of the sudden.

She froze.

Jughead’s lips?

Her eyes flew open, only to see equally startled blue ones staring back at her.

They sprang apart, gaping at each other as they tried to make sense of what had just happened. Betty wasn’t sure how to feel about this development—maybe she was still half in love with Archie, but right now she didn’t exactly feel horrified that she’d kissed Jughead Jones and liked it. A lot.

Jughead didn’t look grossed out either.

They were still staring at each other when Veronica came storming out of a yellow craftsman house down the street, fuming. “Honestly, if you’re going to go around calling yourself ‘Mr. Honey’ that’s pretty much a giant advertisement that the one thing that’ll defeat you is summoning a spray of vinegar!”

Archie limped over to them, mask in hand and his costume torn in several spots. An embarrassed Moose Mason, shirtless save for his ripped jeans and letterman jacket, was a few paces behind.

**********************************

Jughead was doing his best to not be too hopeful about the shy smiles Betty was shooting his way even as they were joined by their friends. Even Cheryl, who glared at them as she stomped past.

“Oh, Bettykins,” Veronica murmured, hugging her best friend. “I’ll never make fun of you and your love of sleuthing ever again.”

“Vindication!” Betty playfully hissed out.

Archie groaned. “I don’t know about you guys, but I think I’ve had enough of tricks. Let’s go back to mine and treat ourselves to more greasy pizza and fizzy pop.”

Everyone else readily agreed and they started the trek back to the Andrewses. Jughead fished his cell phone out of his pocket and called his mom to check in on her and Jellybean. Both were fine, but his mom was exhausted from chasing ‘Jelly-cat’ all over the Southside.

One block away from Elm street, Betty dropped behind the other three and linked arms with him. Something fluttered in his chest when she grinned over at him.

“So, Prince Forsythe, any regrets about your choice of costume?”

“You know, all things considered, I have to say none at all, Lady Buffy. And you?”

“I don’t know, I have a feeling I’d still have kicked ass as Princess Elizabeth of House Cooper,” she mused.

“No question about it. Shall we, my badass lady? I’ll share a cheese pizza with you.”

“Have more romantic words ever been spoken?” Betty giggled, her arm tightening in his. “Lead on, my brave prince.”

All in all, it wasn’t that bad of a Halloween. Everyone was mad at the Daeneryses who had ordered their tiny dragons to burn a bunch of the candy (and some houses). The mayor blamed the incident on hallucinogenic drugs being leaked into the water system. Veronica did not handle the lack of recognition for her efforts well. Archie and Moose winced whenever the word ‘bear’ were so much as mentioned.

And Betty? Starting the following Monday at school, she started waiting at the corner of Dillon and Main for him, so they could walk the rest of the way together.

Maybe hope wasn’t just for fools after all, even ones named Jughead Jones.

#bughead fanfiction #bughead #riverdaleevents #avarosier writes

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wanderlustlanguages · 5 years

Text

Brazil study abroad roundup

So since I failed at posting during my study abroad I am going to attempt to sum everything up here. I hope this might be helpful for people who want to study abroad in Brazil in the future.

Disclaimer: This is written based on my personal experience which is of course affected by who I am (20-year-old, female, Austrian, introverted, straight, white,...) and the people I happened to meet and a million other small factors.

If you have any specific questions don’t hesitate to inbox me or send me a message.

Rio de Janeiro

I spent my exchange semester in Brazil or more precisely in Rio de Janeiro. Rio de Janeiro is without a doubt a city unlike any other (I have ever seen at least). My favourite thing about Rio is its diversity in both its population and the landscape. Rio really has it all amazing beaches, lush-greenness and a buzzing city. The city itself was probably my favorite thing about my exchange. I remember the first day I arrived and drove through the city to get to my apartment. I was fascinated by how the rich and the poor lived so close to each other and how there were 15 story buildings right in front of green hills and corporate office next to a beach.

Culture and People

The culture is completely different from anything I have ever experienced before. People in Brazil are so friendly it is shocking. Everyone seems to be open to have a chat and help you out. The one downside I found to this (as an introvert) while everyone is open to having a chat it can be hard to find real, solid friends. People tend to talk about hanging out or doing something but as you are talking about it both of you already know that it will never happen. So while in general, I cannot complain about people since they are very friendly to foreigners I have not made any real friends.

Language

However, not making friends might also have something to do with the fact that my Portuguese wasn’t really good enough to speak much when I arrived here and most people don’t really speak English. While it has improved greatly (especially my understanding of native speakers) I am still missing the practice to come up with words quickly enough to have a fluent conversation. Also, slang is still an issue while I have learned some of it there seems to be an endless amount of slang terms that I will probably never know (the fact that Brazilian Portuguese slang changes quickly and varies by region isn’t helping either):

Food

I have a love-hate relationship with Brazilian food. There’s some food I really enjoy but then there is even more food that I don’t particularly like. The food that I did enjoy seemed to get too monotonous quickly. In general Brazilian cuisine tends to be very much meat-based (being a vegetarian is still somewhat rare here) with carbs also playing a big role. As someone who prefers to eat a bit more plant-based and lighter it was a bit difficult to imagine eating a typical Brazilian diet every day. But of course, this wasn’t really an issue I just bought my vegetables in the supermarket and prepared them the same way I would have at home. But I did miss typical dishes from home and also Maki with avocado or cucumber (for some reason they only have sushi with actual fish here).

Money

Brazil is not as cheap as some other Latin American countries, especially Rio is quite expensive. I would say on average the living expenses here are as much as in other European cities (not London or Paris). The prices for food are pretty moderate with imported goods, of course, being more expensive. The metro is cheap compared to European standards and while it does cover much less area than the underground systems in most other major cities it really does take you pretty much everywhere that you’ll need to go. Uber is also surprisingly cheap. If you can split the ride it might just end up being cheaper than the metro ticket. My monthly living expenses without trips and rent were around: €500.

Housing

The rent prices vary greatly depending on the area you live in, however, in general, the standard of living is lower so even if you pay €500 a month the apartment might have all the necessities but often just doesn’t look as pretty (not an issue just something to keep in mind). I personally chose to live in an apartment in Ipanema which I shared with another girl from my university we paid about €500/month each. When choosing an area to live in you should keep in mind that there are areas that are not so safe. Personally, we booked our apartment on Airbnb but many people find theirs on facebook or upon arrival.

Trips

I managed to go on quite a few trips but getting around Brazil can quickly get complicated and expensive since it is such a huge country. If you have a place you already know you would like to visit I recommend booking the airplane ticket as early as possible the closer you get to the date the more expensive they tend to get. The cheapest airplane ticket I managed to get was about €70 (one hour flight, no checked bags). There are buses almost everywhere and they can be significantly cheaper however it is debatable whether you would rather pay €60 and drive for 14 hours or pay €150 - 200 and fly for 2 to 3 hours. For shorther distances buses are of course completely fine and you can book most of them online or buy a ticket directly at the central bus station.

Personally, I visited:

Paraty Salvador Belo Horizonte Ouro Preto Buzios Blumenau Curitiba Porto Alegre São Paulo Petropolis

Education system

Like in many countries getting a good education in Brazil means getting a private education. Since my university had a contract with a private university that’s the kind of educational environment I experienced. Personally, education is a topic I feel quite passionate about or more specifically I feel quite passionate about the belief that education should be as accessible as possible to as many people as possible (I am not going to go in-depth here about why..). The Brazilian education system is built in a way that greatly advantages people who are more well off than the average Brazilian. I personally was not a fan of my university since I felt the entire thing was just this bubble that didn’t in any way mirror the Rio that I experienced outside of university.

Society

I touched upon this briefly in the previous section. One of the most interesting dynamics about Brazil is the society. There seems to be this strange dichotomy were Brazilians are proud of the diversity of their population yet there is some kind of deeply ingrained, probably to a large degree unconscious (like in many countries), racism going on. People who are noticeably darker in complexion are mostly still part of the poorest of the population while the richest look astonishingly European and nothing is done to change this. Brazilians are proud of their diversity yet the order of their society still reflects one of the colonial times. (I am in no way saying that every Brazilian supports the way things are. This is more a reflection of the politics going on in the country which are unfortunately corrupt to a large degree so we cannot exactly consolidate the current societal state with the actual opinion of people)

Touristy things + Leisure time

Now for a lighter topic. There is plenty to see in Rio and when I say plenty I mean a lot as in I didn’t even manage to see everything that I wanted to see. I plan to make a more comprehensive post on places to see in Rio (well-known ones and some not so well known). Leisure time is to a large degree spent outdoors on the beach, hiking, or at parties. One disadvantage of Rio is that it is a quite outdoorsy city so when it rains there aren’t many options for entertainment.

Party and dating culture

Parties here are a lot more spontaneous often happening on the street in front of university buildings. They are also a bit wilder it is quite common for one person to make out with several different people a night and it is almost unheard of that someone doesn’t drink alcohol. Dating culture from what I experienced (which is admittedly somewhat limited) is very relaxed. Casual relationships are extremely common and break-ups are usually quite pragmatic. At the same time, the macho culture is still a bit more prevalent than in many European countries. As someone who is introverted and doesn’t really enjoy casual relationships or just dating for the sake of dating it wasn’t my thing but each to their own.

Conclusion

Would I want to live here forever? No. Did I really like the experience? Yes. Brazil is what I like to refer to as an “extrovert country”. So as an introvert it can be quite exhausting to navigate the social life here even more so than in european countries since people here are very talkative and open. However, this was a thing I was prepared for and since it was a dream of mine to got to Brazil one day despite that I can’t say that I didn’t have a great time and that it wasn’t worth it. I definitely see myself coming back to see more of the country. I simply personally enjoy the openness for a short period of time but it would probably be too much for me to live like this for the rest of my life. I am also quite thankful to have been born in a european country with free education, pretty good public health care, less corruption and overall more stability. Still I would not ever tell anyone NOT to go to Brazil, or Rio especially. I like to think of Rio as the bad boy of cities. It might be a little dangerous or more uncomfortable than others but it’s just so pretty, fascinating and mysterious you can’t help but fall in love.

#BrazilExchange #study abroad #exchange student #semester abroad #Exchange Semester #travelling #brazil #travel #rio de janeiro #portuguese #university #student #study french #study languages

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aggresivelyfriendly · 5 years

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Summer’s Child

Summer’s Child Chapter 5- Angel of The Morning

Hey doll’s, its been a little break from all the gorgeous content, and im withering on the vine! Where oh where is the music. (Just Kidding, Jeff, take your time Harry-not really, but ok....) Special thanks to @emulateharry, and my true loves- @dirtystyles and @bleedinglove4h

May 1969

He just wanted to wear his dad's good suit. That's all he wanted. It would have made this simpler and definitely lessen the humiliation he was feeling.

Harry was stood in the Sears suit department watching Jillian make ugly faces at all the drab suits.

"Not one of them can be a color?" She'd looked at Harry standing there holding several checked jackets and sighed.

"I'm really fine with grey or blue." He'd shrugged. Those were colors. And as for the plaid in his hand, his dad had several tweed coats he was pretty sure he'd grown into. He was as tall as him now, maybe a hair taller. Or his hair ''twas taller. And a little broader. His posture was just band, mostly because he wanted to fold in on himself like a dinner napkin a lot of the time. Like right now. Not only was he going to Prom as her and Will's third wheel. He was going to stand out like the star in a play if Jillian got her way about his attire. He was really more of a background character.

Harry was elated when Jillian just huffed and took all the jackets out of his hand and gave him the blue suit. He'd been eyeing it for a while now. It was not navy, decidedly, but it was blue. Blue was safe, but it had small details he liked, the lapels and the flares leg. It was, well, groovy would be Jillian's description, was.

"You sure your don't want to try on the green suit?" She picked up the mossy suit one more time.

Harry wasn't sure what the difference was between a blue suit and a green one, the green just seemed, loud. "I think it's a little much." He narrowed his eyes behind his glasses at the fabric.

"But it's corduroy." She smiled like that made the difference. It did, just not the way she thought it did.

"Maybe that's why I think it's a little much." He inclined his forehead at her.

"I think you play it too safe." She shrugged.

He very much did play it safe. Not just with clothes. But, "the pants of the blue one are belled." That seemed relevant and like she needed a reminder.

Jillian trilled her musical laugh. "Oh, alright, I dig it. We have reached your limit on cool. Go try it on." He walked into the dressing room and could hear her giggling outside.

"What are you plotting?" He nearly tripped over his own pants, thankfully since he couldn't afford a suit and extra pants, when the corduroy hit his head.

"I wanna see you in it. You're gonna look groovy. Your eyes will be green like jade man!" His heart soared. "Trina Lewis said she's just noticed how pretty the color was the other day, when you were cleaning your glasses." And it sunk.

"Who's Trini Lewis?"

"She's in English with us. And Trina, doof." She laughed. "She moved here last year. Kinda quiet really curly blonde hair, brown eyes."

"Where does she sit?" He didn't care, he was simply stalling.

"She sits one back and two over from me, so three from you." That's why he'd never noticed, he looked forward in class, certainly no further back than Jillian.

"Why are we talking about Trini—"

"Trina." She giggled.

"Trina, any how?" He stepped out in the blue suit expecting to continue sparring with her.

She was quiet. It was strange, so Harry only caught a glimpse of himself before he redirected his attention to her. Jillian's eyes always took up a bit more than their fair share of her face, or he focused on them most to avoid looking at her mouth.

Sitting on the round tufted avocado stool, they were shooter marble big. And her mouth was caught on whatever explanation she was gonna give about the blonde in their English class. Trini? It was hard to remember anyone else's name when she was looking up at him, especially like that.

Something broke when she blinked, the moment, his heart, it was hard to say. "What?" He finally asked to break the tension. The hairs on his arm were standing on end.

"Nothing," she swallowed loud. "where are your glasses?"

"Oh, I took them off to get my sweater over my head, forgot to pop them back on."

"Your hair looks different too. I um," She fidgeted with her hair, "I, um, didn't know it had gotten so long." It sounded like a compliment, though the words weren't complimentary exactly. He'd take it. He wasn't sure about the way she was gazing at him; it looked like she'd been staring at the sun, like when you see black spots because you stared too directly.

Seemed fair, he often felt like he watched her like the moon through a telescope trying to map her geography.

His hair was longer than normal. It seemed fashionable, though he still did it in his usual fashion, so no one had noticed, he just pushed it back after showers. He wasn't sure it was worth it, the growth. Plus, his hair was getting hard to pomade so he was just about ready to cut it.

Harry was pretty sure he'd let it go until it touched his shoulders now.

Jillian loved long hair, he knew it. It was a very uncommon sight still in their small town. It might have been his unnamed motivation.

"Yeah, I thought I'd try it." For California. But he still hadn't had time to share with her. They hung out, not as much as they used to, and her mom was having a long stitch of singleness, so Jillian slept at home. He hoped to tell her. He'd hoped to continue planning together. He wondered if he hadn't been able to get it out because he was afraid she'd changed her mind. Time had passed, and well, Will. Will was still around, but Harry still hoped for forever. And that meant California, just the two Of them. Her eyes said maybe

He had a little hope, maybe they could find some sweet romance after all.

"It looks really nice." Jillian finally said. Her voice a little higher than normal. There was a pause. "You know, I thought you'd grown out of your curls." She gestured to the mirror and rushed through the next question. "Do you like the blue?"

Harry realized the mirror was still there and looked at himself. He looked really tall in these bell bottoms. He supposed he was kind of taller than most of the boys at school. He'd need a boot, maybe with a bit of a heel, he may have a loafer that would work. The shirt was a bit ruffly. "I like the blue, maybe not the shirt. The pants are groovy." He put his leg up to let the flare open. "Do people grow out of their curls?" He ran his hand through his hair, ruffled it up. He could feel her eyes and it was such a nice boomerang of his feelings and attention on her; he preened a little.

"Should I try the green?" He walked a few steps closer to peer at his eyes. He never really thought about their color, he supposed they were really green. He was partial to blue, blue eyes and the blue sight. He hunkered down next to her, sitting on his heels, and bumped her shoulder. "Or have we found the one? Though I'd prefer a different shirt."

She kept her head forward and he was slightly miffed she didn't slide her forehead over his. He thought about breathing her condensed breath on his bench seat in January a lot. That was a sense memory, it smarted that it was coupled with silently committing to friendship for life. If she would just turn to him now, maybe....

"I think the shirt makes it, but the flares are far out enough for me. You should try the green, at least see how it looks." He rolled his head to the light and stood up. She wasn't gonna breathe on him, despite their earlier moment.

He sighed. "Ok." Once he got in the room he looked at his choices. He was already exhausted, and this was his first suit. "How many dresses did you have to try on?"

"Oh, I'm gonna wear the dress you bought me. The pink one?" She sounded nonchalant on purpose, it didn't quite work.

"Are you supposed to do that? Rewear dresses to big events?" He had money from his dad for the suit. Started checking price tags. The blue was more than the brown. But the green was most expensive.

"I just really like the dress."

He barely had the shirt on when he stepped out. And Jillian swallowed once her gaze reached his face while he was buttoning up. It had started at his navel where his fingers had fumbled. He needed to see her face. He felt like there were things she wasn't saying. He knew there were, but if she bit her lip or cut her eyes away quick, he'd know she was lying.

She did the second when he got the jacket on. "Listen, go get some dresses. Look at the sale racks, or we can try Mel's again."

"The pink was a treasure find, Harry."

"There's gotta be a better thrift shop here in Syracuse. We could try another one. I'll get the blue instead of the green, then I can use the difference in cash to pick it up for you?" He just felt like she needed a new dress.

"I don't care if people notice Harry." Did he? Maybe. He already heard troubling things about her. The high school rumor mill was very busy trying to figure out what Will was doing with Jillian 8 months on. They figured he hadn't gotten what he was after. What Jillian was trying to get outta Will was less discussed. Everyone assumed his family's money and social status, but Harry confused them further.

Jillian still rode to school with Harry often, or had since they'd made up, and she occasionally ate with him in the library. The supposed triangle made people feel sorry, for him.

He'd heard back up boyfriend a time or two again. It always felt like a slap. May always feel that way.

But that wasn't Jillian, that was just high school dicks.

"Don't you wanna look? It couldn't hurt."

"I'll look, if you wear the ruffled shirt." She turned her face sideways, her cheekbones shone fetchingly, even in the harsh department store lighting.

"You drive a hard bargain. But I'll do it." He wanted to reverse their positions of the last hour. It seemed like she saw him anew today. He looked at her new with each day. In pretty dresses couldn't hurt, they were memories he could hoard up like treasure. Her in her prom dress, his date or not, smiling at him and pleased with herself.

"That's not the whole bargain. I also want you to ask Trina to the dance."

"The dance is in a week!" He squawked and was getting back into his own clothes. He forewent the sweater vest. He was hot from all the changing so much his hair was definitely curling up from the damp, so he just pushed it back and over. "Won't that offend her?"

He had no excuses for why he left the glasses off. He'd never even realized how green his eyes were, either.

"Nah, she's not got a date, it'll give her a reason to buy a dress. She wants to go. She wants to go with you." They were walking out by now. The line had been minimal and they'd only done quick pleasantries while they were embroiled in their current debate.

He opened her car door. And she slid in and reached over to unlock his. Harry thought about it as he walked around. He was sure Trini was nice, Trina, and it would save him from an awkward dynamic. When they were all around each other, Will mostly ignored him, but Prom was long compared to moments at Dairy Barn or in the halls. That may be nice.

The problem was, he wanted to go with Jillian. Even as the strange tripod that she, he and Will had developed. She was changing their dynamic. It was disappointing, but he was sure she envisioned some double date scenario. A partner of his own may distract him from her and Will kissing. Or whatever. He could see the merits of the idea more and more. Harry was ready to agree, but needed to confirm the terms.

"So," he looked at her across the bench seat. He felt taller when she looked him in the eye today. He was gonna have to put the glasses on to drive, but he was gonna wait until the engine purred to life. "If I ask Trina to the dance and wear that ever so slightly cheaper suit with the ruffled blouse."

"It's not a blouse." She insisted.

"It's a blouse." He kept talking, over her interruption and through his grinning teeth. "Then we can search some thrift shops and find you a dress? A new one?"

She chewed her lip. Jillian wanted to say no, but she also wanted him to go with Trina, or she really liked the blouse. He wasn't sure which. "Yes." She said and screwed up her mouth like she'd eaten a load of salt and vinegar chips, which he loved and she tolerated. She'd liked the Worcester chips his dad got when he went to New York and found a specialty shop much better. They could get them next month before or after The Beach Boys show.

He'd also heard there was gonna be a big music show nearby this summer. Maybe they could go? He'd ask her after he got her in a dress. Though questions usually preceded gowns.

"I would shake your hand, but I'm driving." He looked at her grinning. "Can you be trusted?"

She just stared at him and he was confused by her mood.

"Can we listen to the radio?" She leaned forward without him saying yes. That was the obvious answer. They sang together, always. He headed to the area around the university. He remembered there being a charity shop there with good stuff.

She was singing softly to "The Zombies." He got caught up in the moment of it, and his voice dropped off the chorus. She could carry it. The lyrics carried his away. This was a season; winter was ending and they were headed for years long spring. He was just about to tell her. All his plans. He wasn't sure why he hadn't yet. Every time he went to share, he found himself saying something else. Like he was sure that forever didn't extend past August and she was really just shining him on until she could leave. That she was gonna marry Will in a year and have a baby, like so many girls they knew, or the worst. That she wanted California on her own, and only faux planned with him to placate him. He hated being placated.

He really hated thinking these thoughts.

Maybe that's why he said, "what color dress you gonna get?" Instead of anything important, everything important.

She looked at him then, in that way she had. Like he was made of glass, but she'd only reply to the reflection, blurry on top. Not what she saw deeper. He appreciated that she didn't force candor, it seemed she always knew without him saying.

"When you thrift shop, you can't be as picky. It'll do if we find something that fits and is somewhat appropriate."

"Appropriate?" He laughed.

She rolled her eyes. "For a dance."

"I feel like it's the only time they let you guys dress in anything remotely inappropriate." He glanced quick to catch her expression. He had the mirror, but in motion was better. "Remember last year when they got you for that mini skirt?"

"Ugh, it was not that short."

He bit his laugh off. It was pretty short. He zigged to a new subject. "How's this place look?" He gestured at the store he had in mind. The front window was full of shawls and bell bottoms, a tie dye tapestry peaking out behind.

"Far Out, Hardy!"

"You haven't called me that in forever." He jumped down and lit up further when she slipped her arm through his. She was touchy like when they were younger today. After her dad left, well, it was nice for it to be back.

"You haven't earned it! When was the last time you found me pretty Beetles?"

"I find you Beatles albums."

"Not as good," She shook her head and bowed like the Hare Krishnas in Central Park when he opened the door for her.

"That's not what you said when I found Sgt.Pepper early for you."

"Well, maybe that one should have gotten a Hardy."

"Your giddy scream was enough." They'd made it to the dress section while they were bantering.

It looked like a pastel bomb went off. There were a lot of flounces. Jillian stayed away from the most complicated pieces and chose darker colors. It surprised him.

The black dress was drab and everything was so low cut, she'd claimed even on prom night they'd kick her out.

She might have even been right, he was almost hyperventilating and shifting his erection to his waistband after that dark blue one shift dress. He didn't know people who weren't Cher wore necklines like that. Jillian was not shaped like Cher. Harry had wandered to distract himself from seeing her in anything else that would make him feel like he ran the hurdles in gym. It was in a random spot he found her dress. It was white, with ruffled cap sleeves and little hippie flowers. The front wouldn't get her kicked out, but it would set his heart to racing.

Will's too.

But it was too beautiful to not bring it to her.

Jillian's eyes widened, it was his favorite face, when he surprised her with something she loved. She was the great gift giver and he tried to get on her level every birthday and Christmas. He'd succeeded a few times, The Beach Boys tickets, the headband that looked just like the one the girl on the cover of Life had worn when they put out the issue on hippies. Her bike when he'd fixed it after she thought it was broken for good at 11.

This was better. Because she slipped the dress from his fingers like it was worth rubies, not $4 as the tag said. She held it lightly, but immediately walked into the dressing room. His eyes widened in a mirror image of her in Sears when she walked out of the dressing room.

"Wow." Was all he could muster. "You look....."

"Yeah?" It's groovy?" She looked like she believed it, and just needed him to back her, like he always did.

"It's far out, Jill." He called her that when he was overcome. Or she was crying. She looked a little misty. He swallowed over the lump in his throat. "You can wear some flowers in your hair too. You'll look so pretty. I'll go look for some."

He found some fake potted plant for .25 and took off buds. He wasn't sure how she'd do it. But he could see the halo of white flowers around her face. It was a window to his future. This dress, flowers in her hair, the alameda county court house.

"How's this?" He held out the handful of flowers and she looked up. He wanted to receive that benediction again and again. Harry didn't know she liked getting flowers, he'd never given her a living thing as a gift. He would now. He'd bring her real flowers home when they had a place. He liked learning new things about her.

"Perfect, they're perfect." She took the buds and pulled her hair up messily, the silky tresses falling through her fingers and the band she had. The hard green parts of the fake petals stuck in between and stayed for put for enough seconds to get an idea of what she'd look like Saturday. Harry stood behind her and gazed in the glass with her.

His heart pounded, and if she was facing him, he was sure he wouldn't be able to keep from kissing her.

"Do you think Will will like it?"

The bubble filling where his heart should be burst. He rubbed over his chest to warm the ice that comment induced, and did what best friends do, "How could he not? You look like an angel."

"An angel of the morning?" She grinned. He wanted to return it. They'd sung it en route. Before the suits. It was hard to smile back though. She always looked like an angel in the morning, especially in the morning. But, was she asking because of Will? Because he might see her just after dawn?

"An angel at anytime." He assured her. Will was staying in New York. And they were going to California. He was gonna give her the dream, he reminded himself. God he loved her and was so scared she was gonna spend the night with Will. Like really spend the night, not just share a bed, no matter how small.

It was prom. There was a strange expectation. Lots of the boys had been talking about the hotel rooms they'd gotten. The dance was all the way in Syracuse, at the college. A couple groups were staying in the dorms or frats with older siblings. He hadn't heard Will talking about hotel rooms, but Steve was, and his plans for it. Though to hear him tell it, he'd had his girlfriend in his truck many a time.

It always made Harry grit his teeth.

Especially when Steve talked about Jillian's tits and Will smiled and laughed. He'd seen Will give an approximation with the cupped palms of his hands and say, "She goes crazy," and lick his lips that time.

Harry couldn't tell that to Jillian, about Will talking about her like that, not without ulterior motives. It was her decision anyhow. And he couldn't bring himself to ask about it. They didn't talk about her and Will, not really, just surface stuff. Though he spent plenty of time worrying about it, and loathing himself for it. Fear and loathing in New York.

"Um, I think this is the one. I'll go pay." He reached to the top of her back and took the tag off. His finger tips coasted over her skin for just a pleasant second. He ignored the chill bumps that rose. He must have startled her. "You look beautiful." He said as he left.

He was blinded by her smile and nearly crushed the little handwritten tag on his way to pay for that dress for her to go to a dance with someone else.

But he dreamed of her wearing it with real flowers in her hair and saying loving words and long term vows to him as sunlight broke through fog.

The week was a bit of a blur. Trini, no Trina, said yes, she squealed and hugged him. There were tests and end of year activities, and it felt like the ending of a movie you knew had a sequel. He was really excited for the next chapter.

He felt like a new man. Looked it, too. He was only wearing his glasses in class and had let his growing hair loose. His physics teacher didn't recognize him on Wednesday. Which made him both really confused and a little smug.

His da had stopped him on Saturday. "You lost your glasses then?"

Harry'd quirked his head to the side and pulled them from his jean's pocket and slipped them up his nose.

"No?"

"Good. You wear them to drive?"

Harry had nodded.

"Good. It's nice to see your mother's eyes." And he'd taken his mug of tea and hid out from all the emotion in his study.

That was when he was leaving to get Jillian from the early shift at work. They were getting ready at his house, he'd drop her at Will's and then find Trina's house on the way. Shouldn't be too hard, their town only had one stop light.

He gave her the bathroom. The spicy smells coming from under the bathroom door where new and altogether pleasant. He knocked. "New perfume?"

"Um, yeah. Will bought it for me. Its Opium."

"It's nice." He complimented and leaned his forehead as softly as possible against the wood grain.

"It's alright. I miss my Love's." He'd bought that one birthday, liked the powdery scent . It just seemed like Jillian to him. He missed it too.

She'd been in the bathroom, long after he was in his suit. The new look was easier, he didn't have to pomade his hair and try to subdue it. He just let it curl around his ears and neck and forehead. He needed to get in to splash on some after shave, for scent, he'd never really needed to shave. Harry didn't want to rush her, but..... He listened to small movement and soft sighs. He was just about to say something, then.

For a second, he thought he heard a sob. "You ok?"

"Yeah, yeah." Her voice was thick. "I keep having to redo my eyeliner. I wanted to try that Sharon Tate thing. It's hard. I'm frustrated."

Over explaining, not a good sign. "Can I come in."

"Um no, I'm in my underwear."

Harry groaned, but bit off the sound. "Did something happen?"

"My um, my mom, she didn't come home last night. I guess I'm a little worried." Her voice sounded close. Like they were both speaking through the hinges.

"Do you want to go by and check on her? Or.." he squared his shoulders. "Or we can drive by the bar?"

"That's, that would be really good, Harry." She opened the door and he almost fell in. Jillian peeked at him, and their faces were so close. "Thanks." She kissed his cheek and her breath smelled sweet. Even over the strong perfume that didn't fit her.

"We need to hurry then. I don't want to be late to Trina, seems rude." His voice was sheer, thin as the overlay of her dress.

"K, I'll hurry."

"Leave the eyes alone." They were misty, it would run. "You look perfect."

She nodded and smiled. Then closed the door softly. He could feel the grain of the wood on the heel of his hand when he placed it there.

She came out 10 minutes later. He wee'd and splashed on his scent. Well, His dad's.

He was trying to push down the ruffles when he came out.

"Stop that!" Her laugh tickled his ears like questing fingers under blankets. She re ruffled him.

They needed to get out of here, all her casual affection was affecting him. He couldn't take it.

It was worse when his dad insisted on pictures, like they were going together, like she was his date. Like it was his dream.Standing behind her, with his arms around her waist, her unfamiliar smell going to his head and her bum resting too close for comfort on his pelvis, he focused on his anguish, and the periodic table, so he wouldn't embarrass himself.

"You guys look lovely. That will be a framer." He swore his dad was crying, in a very British way. He was fussing about behind him with the camera at his desk.

"We're going da." He tried to get his attention. Get him to turn around. So he could check his hunch.

"Oh, quite right. Wouldn't want you to be late. Have a good time. Don't worry about curfew." Harry's mouth dropped open. "Enjoy yourselves."

He was keeping his eyes firmly on the road. Though he could feel Jillian's on him. His dad looked, funny. He had never seen him so emotional. He let his mind run on that while the seat he'd for her parent. Jillian got uncomfortable and quiet when her mom let her down. He let her feel it. He'd snap her out of it after they figured out what exactly was going in. He kinda knew where she was.

Jillian's mom wasn't at their house.

But her beat up pick up was outside the VFW she sometimes called work.

"Look, she's just down the pub. It's ok. Do you want to go in so she can see you?" She really should. If only to shame the devil for probably not even knowing it was prom.

Jillian scanned parking lot. Her gaze stuttered over a black camaro at the end. It looked very familiar, but Harry couldn't place it.

He went to switch off the engine. Jillian grabbed Harry's wrist to stop his motion. Another casual touch that felt committed, and said, "no, I don't want to be late for Will."

"You don't think your mom would want to see you?" She didn't deserve it, but it would be merciful.

"If it was important to her, she would have helped me get ready, instead of not even coming home." Her face had the blank look it got when she shut down. Jillian wasn't always merciful.

He knew better but, "But."

"No, Harry. Let's go." He eased his foot off the break and obeyed.

She didn't touch him again, just kept her hands folded on her lap. There was a corsage on the seat. It wasn't for her.

He watched her walk into Will's, but didn't see the corsage, a pink set of carnations, until he and Trina arrived at the dance.

He wasn't sure why he was surprised, but Jillian and Will sat at another table altogether than him and Trina. At first, embarrassingly, he felt close to tears over it. Suddenly, his dad's reaction made sense. He wished he had a desk and camera to fuss with. He consoles himself with reason.

It made sense, both Will and Jillian on court, it was closer to the stage, he reminded himself. He told himself this while he put a smile on like a kid pastes cut outs on a test page.

They didn't win, and he didn't like who he was that he felt a swelling in his chest at it. Despite Jillian's crestfallen face. It was one of the few moments he was surprised about one of her reactions. A few months ago he would have been surprised she cared to win at all.

It was the second to last dance when he saw Jillian coming towards him. He had to admit, he had had a lovely time with Trina. They could be good friends, even if he hadn't been in love with someone else, he believed he would have felt the same.

He hoped.

"Trina, do you mind if I cut in." She'd tapped his date's shoulder. He'd kept turning his date from 'take time to know her' to 'angel of the morning.'

Both described Jillian to him. But he was glad she got to dance with him to the latter.

He spared a second's thought for Trina, but he was pretty sure she felt the same, about them being better suited as friends. She was chatting with Simon, from history, he thought. Then dancing.

He had tunnel vision he guessed. For lessons at school. For Jillian now. For California in three months. "You having fun?" He opened with, as formal as his ruffled shirt.

"Yeah, I guess. I'm a little sad we lost." She screwed up her face in a way that told him she was as surprised as him.

"I saw that!" He made a face at her.

"I know. I'm surprised too. I didn't even know I wanted to win."

"Well, I've won. Since I get to dance with the prettiest girl here. Real prom queen."

She blushed. She rarely did that near him. It somehow changed the color of the lights above and her dress below. Everything glowing a soft pink.

"What's going on after this?" Harry wasn't really sure of after dance procedures. This was only his second. The last one she'd left separately, and this time they hadn't attended together.

"Oh, some party upstairs." Jillian explained.

"Here? At the hotel?" Wow, some people lived completely different lives.

"Yeah, I'll bet you can come. I'll ask Will." She offered.

He wanted to go, just to extend this night, with her and that dress and the rose glow. Even if it was with two other people between them.

"Yeah, ok."

Which was how he found himself watching Steven Adler get increasingly drunk and obnoxious.

"Hey, what's your name?" He'd asked about an hour into hotel time.

"Harry, Harry Styles."

"Who invited you?" He said like the words meant nothing to him. Although he'd suggested at one point they, meaning the football team, tape Harry's butt cheeks together, to see if he lived up to his name. Apparently it would hurt a lot more if he was hairy Harry.

They'd surrounded him in the shower. He hadn't been Hairy enough to bother, and the dick jokes had run to awe. He didn't have a comparison.

Steven has known his name two weeks ago.

After that, Harry kept himself to himself. He hadn't seen much of Jillian. But Trina seemed happy, hanging on the couch with a beer in her hands and chuckles in her mouth.

An hour later, Trina was ready to go. And truly, Harry was too. But, he needed to see Jillian first. To make sure she wanted to stay, here, at the hotel, with Will. Where everybody had an agenda for after the dance.

He was going from room to room in the hallway the athletes had seemed to have planned to take up. All the doors were opened and people spilled out. None of them Jillian.

It took him 20 minutes of panic to find her. She was coming out of the last room. Her cheeks were tear stained, and her eyes were bloodshot. Grass maybe was his first thought. He knew she'd been experimenting, that they had talked about.

"Harry!" Her voice broke with relief and over a sob like wave.

"Jillian!bWhat's wrong?"

She just shook her head. There were too many people around.

"Where's Will?"

Her chin lifted then. "In his room, alone." The last word was so final he just paused, and moved into a new paragraph.

"Let's find Trina. So we can get out of here?"

Jillian bit her nails near the elevator bank, looking toward the end of the hallway and back to the room across from it where Harry had left Trina. He could feel her eyes on him as he searched.

Luckily, his date was where he had left her. Talking to classmates and smiling drunkenly.

"Hey, you ready?"

"Yeah, let me grab my purse. Everything cool, man?"

"Yeah, fine. Just late." He demurred.

The ride home nobody spoke. Too tired or caught up in their emotions. It was half an hour and the girls were drooping on each other's shoulders when he reached Trina's.

She was past the turn off for Jillian's, and he hoped nobody noticed. He tried not to think much about it. But, he wanted to ask his best girl where she wanted to go. And he wanted to know why she'd not been in the party rooms, why she left Will, and most importantly why she'd been crying?

He hugged Trina at the door, and they decided to go bowling together the week after. "You should ask Jillian." Trina had said as he headed down the walk.

"Yeah, if she's off, and not with Will." He'd shrugged as he turned back with his hands in his pockets.

"No, Harry." She leveled sober eyes on him. "You should ask Jillian, whatever it is you need to ask her. Forget Will." She suggested and grinned drunkenly before swaying through her door and closing it too loud for 2 am.

Ask Jillian. Forget Will.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #summer’s child #chapter 5 #angel of the morning #tripod writing #cult fic #vintage #retro fic #1960’s #1970’s

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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900

1. What’s the last thing you ate? Shawarma. It was a usual meal of mine at school so I’ve been missing it a lot during this quarantine, and I was happy when my dad got me a couple ones yesterday.

2. What’s your favourite cheese? I haven’t been super experimental when it comes to cheese mainly because the better ones are a little expensive and I’m more willing to spend my money on other foods...but the best one I’ve had is feta.

3. What’s your favourite fish? My favorite cooked or grilled fish is tilapia and eel; as for raw fish I love tuna.

4. What’s your favourite fruit? I don’t really like fruit but I’m open to eating avocado-flavored things like shakes and cheesecake; and I’m okay with strawberry-flavored candy hahaha.

5. When, if ever, did you start liking olives? I’ve never liked olives. I take them out of my pizza and such.

6. When, if ever, did you start liking beer? I never *liked* beer but sometimes I’ll have a bottle if and only if it’s to socialize at a party. I just keep the grimace to myself lol because I personally never found it good. I had my first beer at Marielle’s debut, four years ago.

7. When, if ever, did you start liking shellfish? High school. That was when my palate started to expand and I wanted to try being more adventurous with food. I got into shellfish pretty early on and my mom even used to buy a kilo of mussels just for me.

8. What was the best thing your mum/dad/guardian used to make? I love my dad’s laksa, risotto, curries, and chicken wings. My mom doesn’t cook much but I do like her spaghetti.

9. What’s the native specialty of your hometown? My city doesn’t have native food of its own; and I’m not sure about my province’s specialtes either only because cuisines from other provinces are far more popular. I can say though that most visitors who come to the country often try adobo, sinigang, kare-kare, and bulalo.

10. What’s your comfort food? Cheeseburgers, samgyeopsal, pad thai, and chicken wings.

11. What’s your favourite type of chocolate? Milk chocolate. And it gets a lot of flak because it’s not actually chocolate, but I do enjoy the flavor of white chocolate too.

12. How do you like your steak? Rare.

13. How do you like your burger? I like mine with caramelized onions, a mayo-based sauce, and brioche buns; barbecue sauce or jalapeños are add-ons I have no problem being put in my burger. I don’t like tomatoes, pickles, and lettuce.

14. How do you like your eggs? Scrambled if on toast; omelette with cheese, tomatoes, mushrooms, and bell peppers if with rice; and obviously, poached if on top of an Eggs Benedict. I don’t have a preferred style for eggs.

15. How do you like your potatoes? As French fries or mojos.

16. How do you take your coffee? If someone is making the coffee for me, I request for lots of cream and sugar. I’d drink any kind of coffee but black. If I’m at a coffee shop I typically get caramel macchiato.

17. How do you take your tea? I enjoy lemonade iced tea. I don’t really like hot tea.

18. What’s your favourite mug? I suppose my favorite is the only mug I own, which is a white mug that changes colors depending on the temperature of the drink inside.

19. What’s your biscuit or cookie of choice? I can’t stand biscuits anymore because those are what my grandma/mom packed for my recess nearly everyday throughout grade school. I don’t like store-brought cookies either because they taste super processed, but my favorite as a kid were the Presto peanut butter cookies.

20. What’s your ideal breakfast? Garlic rice, a packed omelette, and hashbrowns if I’m somewhere fancy. Scrambled eggs and hotdogs when I’m at home.

21. What’s your ideal sandwich? Monte Cristo or banh mi.

22. What’s your ideal pizza: Quattro formaggi. If we’re talking more experimental pizzas, barbecue pizza is a guilty pleasure.

23. What’s your ideal pie (sweet or savoury)? I’m not a big pie person but I do love savory a lot more, like chicken pot pie. I think most of the sweet pies out there are fruit-based anyway.

24. What’s your ideal salad? Spicy tuna salad. I’ve been having such a craving for it :(

25. What food do you always like to have in the fridge? We always have white bread, eggs, my mom’s cranberry juice, and veggies.

26. What food do you always like to have in the freezer? In the freezer we never run out of various meats and frozen meal packs, like frozen bangus, hotdogs, chicken nuggets, French fries, etc. We also often have ice cream, but it’s not a must-have for us obviously.

27. What food do you always like to have in the cupboard? Pasta, canned food like luncheon meat and corned beef, cup noodles, various condiments like soy sauce and fish sauce, 3-in-1 coffee.

28. What spices can you not live without? I can’t cook but I do know I like salt, pepper, paprika, and cumin. I’m sure I’m missing other essential ones lol

29. What sauces can you not live without? Sriracha, bagoong, banana ketchup, gochujang, peanut sauce, gravy, barbecue sauce, aioli, mayonnaise.

30. Where do you buy most of your food? My parents don’t have a supermarket preference; they just go to wherever is most convenient for them at the moment. Once I start doing my own grocery shopping though I would rather go to a supermarket where they’d have a wider selection for foreign foods, like those that would have Pop-Tarts and sriracha sauce. Just the foodie in me that constantly has to have food from other cultures.

31. How often do you go food shopping? My parents do the groceries once every two or three weeks, I think.

33. What’s the most expensive piece of kitchen equipment you own? Aside from the obvious ref or cooking range, probably the coffee maker. Not sure how much it cost my parents but it’s supposed to be branded haha.

34. What’s the last piece of equipment you bought for your kitchen? Dad bought a couple of pans because he didn’t like how our old ones were starting to get too many scratches.

35. What piece of kitchen equipment could you not live without? Refrigerator. So many things would spoil without it...that’s why when we get blackouts the first thing we worry about is how long the ref would stay cold.

36. How many times a week/month do you cook from raw ingredients? I’ve only done it once.

37. What’s the last thing you cooked from raw ingredients?

38. What meats have you eaten besides cow, pig and poultry? Crocodile, carabao, lamb.

39. What’s the last time you ate something that had fallen on the floor? Don’t remember exactly when but it has to be sometime recently. I’m not too grossed out by this.

40. What’s the last time you ate something you’d picked in the wild? I have never done this.

41. Arrange the following in order of preference: Italian, Mexican, Chinese, Indian, Thai, Sushi – Indian, Thai, Italian, Japanese, Chinese, Mexican. This question is a teeny bit annoying and a little offensive. How would you like it if I referred to American food as ‘ribs’ lol

42. Arrange the following in order of preference: Vodka, Whiskey, Brandy, Rum – Vodka, rum, (some) whiskey. I don’t drink brandy because that’s what my grandpa, who had alcohol issues, used to drink.

43. Arrange the following in order of preference: Garlic, Basil, Lime, Mint, Ginger, Aniseed – Aniseed, garlic, basil, ginger, lime, mint.

44. Arrange the following in order of preference: Pineapple, Orange, Apple, Strawberry, Cherry, Watermelon, Banana. –

45. Bread and spread: I don’t really munch on this particular food. Toast and butter is enough for me.

46. What’s your fast food restaurant of choice, and what do you usually order? It’s either KFC or Jollibee. In KFC I get a Zinger and a brownie; in Jollibee, I usually order the chicken-spaghetti set, large fries, and a Yum Burger. If they have tuna pie on the menu I’d get that too. My appetite gets exceptionally large when it comes to Jollibee hahahaha.

47. Pick a city. What are the best dining experiences you’ve had in that city? I no longer remember what exactly I ate but I had a blaaaast eating in Bali. I also had a sushi platter in Fukuoka that I’ll never forget.

48. What’s your choice of tipple at the end of a long day? I don’t drink regularly but if I’m out with friends and we want to chill after a tiring day, we get a pitcher of a mixed drink.

49. What’s the next thing you’ll eat? Eggs and hotdogs for breakfast. Probably with bread.

50. Are you hungry now? A little bit, considering it’s nearly 10 and I still haven’t had breakfast.

51. Do you eat your breakfast everyday? I’ve been having it everyday now because I’ve been home for...most of the year...sigh. But I skipped it all the time when I was in school because getting to class on time and having a clean attendance record mattered to me more than filling up my stomach. 52. At what time do you have breakfast? On weekdays I have it between 9-10 AM. On weekends when my parents are home, we have brunch instead at around 10:30-11 AM because they wake up late.

53. At what time do you have lunch? I normally skip lunch now. In school I just had tiny eating breaks throughout the day, but I didn’t have lunch per se.

54. What do you have for lunch? My usual purchases were instant noodles/kwek-kwek, tapsilog from Rodic’s, or shawarma rice. Thrived on these three for my entire college life.

55. At what time do you have dinner? 7-8 PM, depending on whenever my dad is finished cooking.

56. What do you have for dinner? My dad likes changing up our dishes everyday :) It’s one of my favorite things about quarantine. Outside of the quarantine, I’ve never had a main dinner dish.

57. Do you light candles during dinner? No.

58. How many chairs are there in your dining room and who sits in the main chair? 6 chairs. We don’t have a ‘main’ chair that’s larger than the rest, but my dad is the one who sits on the chair on one end of the dining table, or what we call the kabisera in Filipino. My mom, siblings, and I sit on either side of him.

59. Do you eat and drink using your right hand or the left one? I use my right hand for the spoon and my left hand for the fork. I drink with my right hand most of the time.

61. Mention the veggies that you like most: Broccoli, cauliflower, lettuce, cabbage, spinach, asparagus, string beans. Idk what eggplants and bell peppers are but I like those too.

62. What fruit and vegetable do you like the least? Cucumber and ampalaya. 63. You like your fruit salad to have more: Air. Hahahaha I do not like fruit salads.

64. You prefer your vegetable salad to contain more: I love vegetables but don’t really eat vegetable salads? I don’t think I’ve even heard of those.

65. What’s your favourite sandwich spread? Whatever goes on banh mi.

66. What’s your favourite chocolate bar? Whittaker’s peanut butter chocolate.

67. What’s your favourite dessert? I really love macarons, cupcakes, and cheesecake.

68. What’s your favourite drink? Just water. Other drinks make me fuller more quickly.

69. What’s your favourite snack? Pringles, French fries, corndogs...anything deep-fried, really.

70. What’s your favourite bubble gum flavour? Strawberry, or just the original bubblegum flavor.

71. What’s your favourite ice cream flavour? Salted caramel, queso real, or cookies and cream.

72. What’s your favourite potato chip flavour? Original or sour cream and onion.

73. What’s your favourite soup? Miso. Have to have it whenever I have Japanese food.

74. What’s your favourite pizza? Already answered this, but I will always order quattro formaggi if I see it on a menu.

75. What’s your favourite type of dish? I have lots of favorites, but I think chicken curry takes the cake for me.

76. What food do you hate? Fruits, any dessert with fruits.

77. What’s your favourite restaurant? Yabu. It’s a Japanese restaurant that doesn’t even serve sushi (because I’m still ticked off by that sushi question lol).

78. Do you eat homemade food, or food delivered from outside? These days I eat food cooked by either parent. But when I’m on my own, I buy my food.

80. Who cooks at home? My dad does most of the time. My mom will make breakfast on the weekends.

81. What kind of diet (e.g. low-fat, high-fiber, high-carbohydrate, balanced diet etc.) do you have? I’m not on any.

82. How do you keep yourself fit? I just moderate my food intake in general and make sure I stop eating once I feel full. I don’t work out or count calories and stuff.

#survey #surveys

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thesustainableswap · 5 years

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Plant Based Eating in Disney World.

So leading on from my last post we talked about trying to stay zero waste in Disney World and Universal and we uncovered: it’s bloomin’ hard. But how hard is it to follow a vegan or vegetarian diet in the parks and on the go? Now it’s not too hard, you’ll always find options (I’ll correct that to ‘you’ll always find one option’), they just might not be good quality. Especially if, like me, you’re used to eating organic, locally grown produce as close to the season that the food would naturally grow in (i.e endives in December!) America doesn’t have the same laws as the UK or EU when it comes to food quality but a lot of the products in Disney do boast ‘no GMO’ on their packaging which is good, as I already avoid unnecessary preservatives and chemicals in my food so I wouldn’t want to be eating anything genetically modified.

I will quickly say I was on a dining plan for my time in Disney World which means when you book the holiday you pay for your meals up front and receive credits. The amount of credits changes depending on what plan you are on. It’s a really good thing to do if you can, as it means any money you bring can be either spending money or tips for your servers. If you can’t do this and don’t have a huge amount of spending money you’ll most likely be dining at ‘quick service’ locations rather than ‘table service’ locations. If I wasn’t on the dining plan there is no way I would have been able to afford the ‘table service’ options. It’s all about weighing up what is important to you on a trip. If you’re a foodie and willing to spend the extra, try and eat at table service locations whenever possible, they are so worth it. If you’d rather spend money on souvenirs then quick service will get you through the trip, it just might not be a great time for your stomach.

In Universal breakfast was always spent at a Starbucks. While I have spoken already on how much packaging they use for their porridge (oatmeal), this meal was a really great start to the day. Oats, nuts and berries, mixed together with warm coconut milk... it was such a nice get up and go item filled with goodness. Me and my partner liked it so much that we bought a fruit and nut mix from our local bulk store to add to our porridge now. The only downside to this meal was the packaging, but porridge is always a safe, go to healthy option to give you energy in the morning. (Future Jess editing: They would only let us substitute the milk in our porridge at a Starbucks location. When we asked in Disney World at our hotel, they said no).

Moving into the parks, we had lunch one day at Krusty Burger (Krusty Land, Universal Studios) in Universal. My partner had a plant based black bean burger with avocado, tomato, lettuce, some kind of burger sauce and chips. I really wanted this option, but unfortunately avocado is a food that hates me. My face goes red and I’ll usually be sick a few minutes later. Not fun. Instead I settled with a cheese pizza, because the pizza was served on a paper plate. It was average. I would have chosen a salad but there was lots of plastic involved there. So, if you dined here I’d recommend the burger, my partner said it tasted great even if it looked a little sad.

Three much better options were found in Universal’s City Walk, and if you’re looking for good food with more choice you’ll definitely find it there. The Toothsome Chocolate Emporium & Savory Feast Kitchen was brilliant and definitely up there on my ‘highly recommend’ list. I had pasta with tomatoes and artichokes in a white wine sauce and my partner had a superfood salad (which I tried, and I was a little bit jealous that I didn’t choose it because it was not only amazing but huge). Both these were solid choices, though I think mine was only vegetarian while my partners was vegan. Our second restaurant was Hard Rock Cafe and it is a great place due to the memorabilia. I love looking around at all the instruments and costume pieces. The food here is good (I’m certain I had an impossible burger which is generally something you can’t go wrong with!), but out of this and Toothsome, the Chocolate Factory just has a bit more wow factor. For something quick, Panda Express was a winner in my book, though it is much more cafeteria style dining so don’t expect anything fancy here. Just some gooooood noodles.

Moving over to Disney World - I won’t touch on everything I ate here because this post would go on forever but I will give a shout out to the best of the best and also my least favourite item so you know what to avoid. Let’s start with my least favourite so that we can focus on the good stuff after. I ordered a rice bowl from Pecos Bill (Magic Kingdom, Frontier Land) and it was terrible. A plate of unattractive looking, definitely just-been-zapped-in-a-microwave, mushy black beans, rice and a yellow and green courgette mix appeared before me. This was the most bland thing I ate the whole holiday. If you see this in Pecos Bill, avoid avoid avoid. Especially when Pecos Bill have a really great plant based burger and super tasty trio of tacos (where you can instead ask that your three tacos be filled with cauliflower instead of meat). No to the mushy rice bowl.

Yak & Yeti (Animal Kingdom, Asia) is a definite go to spot for all veggies and vegans alike and this restaurant is amazing because not only is it a table service location, but it is also a quick service location! Expect lots of spicy noodles, perfectly cooked veg and curries. On our visit to the table service location of Yak & Yeti I ordered the Vegetable Lo Mien. It’s important to note that despite no animal products being listed in the ingredients I noticed it didn’t have the customary green leaf printed next to it (which is Disney’s way of showing you if an item is plant based.) I asked my server this and she explained that the noodles were cooked in an oyster sauce, but that it could be changed to create a vegetarian dish. She even asked whether I wanted my noodles changed from egg noodles to rice noodles so this could even be made into a vegan dish - you just have to ask. My partner ordered the Roasted Vegetable Bowl which was out of this world. It was everything I wanted the rice bowl from Pecos Bill to be and more, spicy and sweet with a ton of veggies. Yak & Yeti’s quick service menu is good too, though there is only one plant based option: a Vegetable Tikka Masala. Still, it was super tasty, so regardless of your budget Yak & Yeti is a sure place to visit.

The Brown Derby (Hollywood Studios, Hollywood Boulevard) is pricey, I’ll be honest. Saying that, this was the best table service meal of the entire holiday. Whoever the chef was who came up with the Ginger-Lemon Grass Pho has my tummy’s eternal gratitude. I’d honestly wager to say this was one of the best things I’ve eaten in my entire life. On top of that, the portion was huge. This is always a bonus for me, because sometimes vegan and vegetarian options can look a little sad, and be a little small. But my oh my this pho really packed a punch. It came with three spring rolls, and a selection of chilli’s, jalapenos and coriander so you could have some fun customising it to your tastes. If you can spare some dollars this is 100% the place to visit. Such a lovely atmosphere, and incredible food.

Finally, Docking Bay 7 (Hollywood Studios, Galaxy’s Edge) has my heart as the biggest surprise of the holiday and best quick service location. Myself and my partner loved Galaxy’s Edge and decided to see what options they had when it came to food. At first we were disappointed, because the initial quick service location we ended up in (a circular room with a fake Star Wars-esque pig being spit roasted) didn’t have a plant based option. We continued our journey expecting to be left hungry but happened upon Docking Bay 7. We checked out the menu and ordered their only plant based option - the Felucian Kefta and Hummus Garden Spread. We initially ordered one to share and after the first bite my partner went back up to the till to order himself his own portion. It was that good. We even came back a few days later to have it again. Essentially it is made up of three plant based meatballs, hummus blended with herbs, a tomato and cucumber relish and two pieces of what to me was like a thin naan bread. If you’re in Hollywood Studios and you need a quick bite to eat, this is the location for you.

A few small shout outs now: Teppan Edo in Japan serves amazing food with a show from the chef and, in general, Epcot does have some good options around their Food & Wine festival. My only niggly thing is that most plant based options at the festival were desserts. My highest festival praise goes to the booth in Africa, lowest festival praise goes to the booth in India (which surprised me as I perceive India as a country which eats lots of vegetables so, maybe the dishes decided on were not the best to reflect their country.)

Have you eaten at any of these locations in Disney World? Are there any plant based favourites of yours that you think I missed? Let me know!

Until next time,

The Sustainable Swap.

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