#and he feels so guilty when he goes grocery shopping and sees all these men in business suits while you’re out working :(
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but wait! work wife!reader x house husband!yuushi totsumoto…
#prattles ━ ☁️#let me cook#he gets up early to make you breakfast and he handles all the chores while you’re gone!!#and he feels so guilty when he goes grocery shopping and sees all these men in business suits while you’re out working :(#but he’s so proud of you and meets you at the train station to walk you home!!#he’s your 1 supporter fr#*sighs deeply*#thirsty thursday giving me all kinds of thoughts#totsumoto yuushi#are we seeing the vision#am i coo coo
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buut one more thing, Jupiter women trying to be the dad they never had is so true, I've definitely noticed that. My MIL is Vishakha Moon & she's kinda like, the man of the house. She had a very abusive upbringing with super incompetent parents & she ended up having to take a lot of responsibility for her siblings even as a child.
Of course she ended up with a partner who is- lowkey incompetent. He has some good qualities and he does work and all that, but he is a menacee. He expects her to do eeeverything and acts like a big man baby- he gets mad at her if she doesn't untie his shoes for him when he gets home from work. She gets up every morning at 2am with him without fail, gets his lunch ready, makes him breakfast before he goes to work. She makes him coffee and tea at his whim. He will go to the bathroom to have a shower, not bring his towel, then yell her name out incessantly until she comes and gets it for him.
Tmi but he also has no uh, aim in the bathroom- it's really gross, like, really really gross. I had a word with MIL about it, and I was kinda just like 'yeah I'm sure he doesn't mean to do it but maybe you should have a word with him' and she looked scared and kept trying to change the subject and kinda just went 'I'll make sure I clean it up after he goes in'. Like bro is scared to tell her man child ass husband to clean up after himself 😭 poor girl.. I mean I think she's content with how things are because she grew up with so much worse, so in her mind he's the best, but I did read that Vishakha Moon women in particular can absolutely worship their husbands.
She is veryyy generous but to the point that it's a bit overbearing and I feel bad but like, I live with them all currently and I'm very grateful but sometimes she's doing too much. Like she will come home with a bunch of treats and knick knacks and I'm like- thankyou but where do I even put this?? I have no space because of all of the other things you already gave me 😭💟
Also @makingspiritualityreal made a really good post on here about how in Vishakha, the feminine is debilitated so she finds herself constantly in her masculine and never able to simply rest and be the receiver.
It definitely makes sense that this situation created two children with Venusian Moons.
your MIL's relationship triggered me so much, i've grown up seeing my mom be that way and its always disgusted me 🤮🤮🤮🤢and made me mad 😡😠😠
Vishaka women worshipping their partners is so true. Look at Beyonce, Vishaka Moon and how she seems to blindly love that crusty ass cheating man 🤮🤮
I also think it applies to Vishaka men because Will Smith, Vishaka Moon is also like that with Jada, even though she's literally an energy vampire
Generous to the point of being overbearing is soooo true about Jupiter women,, they be doing TOO much and it lowkey makes you feel guilty because you know that you could never be as giving or endure what they have and still come out without any resentment or bitterness
My friend's mom is Vishaka Moon (and her dad is Bharani Moon but idk his other placements but he seems like a Solar guy tbh) and her parents have a similarly toxic marriage. Her mom packs lunch AND puts it in his car??? before he leaves for work??? she also makes separate meals for her, her dad, her sister, their dog etc :// and everytime she spoke of her mom, it felt like her whole existence revolved around just serving everyone and it always made me sick to my stomach
I'll try to find that post you mentioned <333 tysm for letting me know <33
SKSJDJJDJDK "this situation created 2 children with Venus moons" IS SO REAL IM SHAKINGGG
ive mentioned him before but my Purvaphalguni Moon friend from college was a stereotypical Venusian man (he also had many Swati placements 🥰) and his dad was an alcoholic/generally incompetent guy who never did anything and quit working??? a long time ago??? (his elder brother provided for the family) and I remember how he often went grocery shopping or ran errands in the afternoon and sometimes rushed to go home bc his mom was waiting for him 😭😭🥺everytime he spoke to his mom on the phone, he became the softest guy ever and it made me feel so 🥺🥺🥺
unlike Lunar men who are complete mama's boys (prime example, Ranbir Kapoor, Shravana Moon),, Venusian men are more mama's little helper type dudes. The difference between Lunar and Venusian men (I'm mentioning these two specifically bc they're both Yin and benefic planets and known for being devoted to their mom) is that Lunar men kind of become extremely passive and dependent on their mom and Venusian men bend over backwards to provide for her and take care of her.
Two different reactions to having a loving mom
I once knew a Rohini Moon man who told me he hasn't been eating right for a few weeks because his mom had gone to stay with her family overseas 💀💀💀and I was like??? do you just not eat then??? and he was like "yeah I have no appetite without her feeding me" 💀💀💀and mind you he was 24 years old lmao and ik some of you will say "aww thats so cute" blah blah ITS NOT CUTE, a grown ass man starving himself (all he ate was bread apparently bc he didn't like eating out 💀💀) bc his mommy wont feed him IS INSANE EWWW. i ghosted him after that conversation lmfao bc i cannot stand that passive raja beta behaviour
In India, we have something called "raja beta syndrome" which is rooted in son preference (unfortunately sex selective abortions and female foeticide/infanticide is vvvv common in india) and most men grow up being treated like royalty (raja= king, beta = son). This is why Indian men are losers lmao because they've been spoonfed their whole lives by their moms/families and they expect their wives to also be doormats and serve them for the rest of their lives.
Lunar men give me raja beta vibes :///
I like my Venus men who grew up trying to make their moms lives easier and trying to give HER royal treatment because they want to be the one who treats her right<333 these are the only kind of mommy issues I'll accept <333 like oh you dont want me to run errands or pay the bills because your mom had to work so hard and it gives you trauma to think ill have to do that and make you feel like you've failed as a man?? dw king i gotchu <333 go get those errands done.🥰🤪😜
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“You notice how wine makes people wanna feel, like sexy?”
Pairing: idol! Mark Lee x female reader
Plot: Lonesome creeps into everyone's mind, even those who seem to have it all.
Genre: fluff mostly, angst.
Warnings: mentions of alcohol, extremely painful for me to write this since I feel lonely idk if that triggers you too.
A.N: inspired by the first draft of too drunk to fuck and my bff's dependence of wine to exist 😳 this took me 10 hours to write but it might still be pretty shit. And yeah Clueless some how
After a long, long week of continuous recordings, dance practices, re-recordings and photo sessions, all he wanted to do, was sleep for twenty hours straight. He knew that he was a very lucky man, he was really living the dream. Not everyone was able to do what they loved, with people they genuinely liked, and still get payed for it, but he was. He had always been grateful, he knew the real value of things in real life, and sometimes he felt like he didn't even deserve it.
An insane amount of people knew his name, knew him, and constantly made sure that he knew how appreciated he was, but he couldn’t understand it at all. Sure, he proved himself over and over again how great he could be, and he was proud too, but why did people really loved him? Sometimes it's easy to lose yourself, but lately he was struggling even more, he felt lost and unworthy, he felt guilty, even, because he shouldn't feel this way.
Mark was home alone, after his friends went out to have dinner and drinks. He excused himself out of the reunion saying that he would call his parents and then heading straight to the bed. He wasn't lying at all, he did have a small call with his family, and then went to his room, expecting that he'd fall asleep soon and forget about what he was feeling, he was done with that for today.
He played a movie in his computer, knowing that whatever it was, he wasn't paying attention anyway. He hated to admit it, but he felt like he was missing something, rather, someone. He felt ridiculous, knowing how much people loved him, how many friends he had, but he couldn’t help it, he would be lying if he didn't say he could use a little company. Mark was busy most of the time, which, although tiring, was an escape from his loneliness, it was moments like this where he'd have enough time to sink in this small puddle of angsty feelings, that just grew until it was as big as an ocean. He couldn't explain why he felt so bad, he had enough friends to count on, and even when he considered he was only in need of a physical affect, it turned out to not be the answer, even when he masturbated, when he was finished, those feelings were still there. As the movie went on without him noticing, he turned his head to the side, and imagined someone next to him, wearing his clothes and stealing his blanket. He giggles, imagining cuddling someone to sleep, their heat making him feel home. He finally closes his tired eyes with a smile, hoping his dreams will be sweet and last long.
He wakes up in a bad mood, and doesn't really want to talk to anyone, his older friends notice, and decide to let him be, they know that if something is really wrong, he'll come to them eventually. After a quick shower, he decided he needed some privacy, some time alone, despite being scared of being stuck with himself, and went out on his own, ignoring the texts on the group chat, where everyone wondered where he was going. He had breakfast in a small Cafe, went to a movie matinee, an art gallery, a theater play, and then to a mall to buy himself expensive clothes. He had an okay day, and he grew a little bit of joy, finding himself alone and still almost enjoying his time, but mostly, ignoring his mind when he saw a couple, and wished he could have that too. He enters a restaurant, intending to order something take out for his friends, as an apology for being moody and worrying them. He waits stand up next to the door, with a cup of coffee they offered him, until he suddenly turns around after hearing his order being ready, and ceashes with someone as he does. He spilled his drink over his and their clothes. He starts apologizing, but all he gets as a response is a soft, sweet giggle. He looks to the stranger's face, and is met with a fond smile.
“It's okay, go get your food, I can fix myself”
He's caught off guard, and all he can do is shake his head yes and do as he is told, coming back to them, apologizing again.
“I'm such an idiot, I'm so sorry” he's totally embarrassed, and he feels a blush running through his face.
“It's alright, it wasn't your fault”
The stranger walks inside to take a table, and he rushes out, walking back home. That giggle makes its way to his mind a couple times as he arrives.
After eating, he goes to bed, feeling somehow full with himself, but he doesn't know if it was after forcing himself to like him, or if he was so desperate for someone that a small interaction like that would get him sleepless thinking this person would be his person.
On that same week, he founds himself running into that same stranger everywhere. When he goes get coffee with his friends, when they go to buy groceries, when he heads to the studio, and he wonders if he should be worrying, but decides not to.
Surprisingly, he founds her again, when he is entering a new coffee shop, and she walks her way out. He opens the door for her, and is met with her fond smile again, that grows larger as she recalls his face. She mumbles a sweet 'thank you' and keeps walking. Some courage grows inside Mark, and blurts out whatever his brain was fast enough to say.
“Thanks for not spilling that coffee back” the young lady finds the sentence, although awkward, funny, and turns back to him to reply.
“Maybe I should pay for your coffee, though, you were enjoying it until I crashed into you” Her melodic voice is enough to put Mark in a trance, and loses control of what he's doing, disconnecting from his awkward self.
“Actually it was my fault” he giggles remembering how sweet she was, even after Mark probably just ruined her day “Did you get a horrible stain?”
She walks closer to him, small steps that make his heart beat faster.
“It wasn't horrible, I wouldn't say that, it was just, slightly bad”
“I don't want to be a weirdo, are you busy right now? I could use some chatting, and I really owe your laundry money”
She was never an outgoing person, but she was flattered by his proposal. She was meeting someone, but she figured it wouldn't be important enough to not cancel.
“I would love that, but you owe me nothing” she giggles and walks beside him into an empty table.
“I'm Mark, by the way”
“I know that” she laughs it off, attempting for things not to be awkward “My name is Y/N”
It was only after several months, that Mark found himself, again, over thinking about how lonely he was, and how desperate he was for it to end. Whenever he had the chance, he'd spend time with his new friend, and for some weeks, thats was enough, until he realized that, all she wanted from him, was a friendship. His friends noticed, too, how after a while, that wasn't enough for him, but he was terrified he'd lose her, but they'd often try to help him out in whatever way other men would think was best, teasing her when she was at the dorms, insinuating how cute of a couple they'd be, and shamelessly asking if by any chance, she'd have feelings for him, never really giving away Mark's crush on her, not explicitly at least.
One afternoon, when they were all watching a movie together, when suddenly, Johnny and Taeyong convinced everyone to go out and have dinner, even after Mark suggested they just called the restaurant, because he was too tired to go out.
“Oh” Taeyong said, grabbing his keys and putting on a hat “then you can stay here with Y/N and order something and we can take our time”
The girl was a little disappointed, she loved spending time with the other guys two, but she agreed, knowing that Mark wouldn't want be convinced to leave the couch.
She sees then leave, and turns around to look at her friend, somehow aware of what his friends were trying to do; leave them alone, after last night they discussed Mark should just accept the reject, and confess. The boy asked, pleaded and begged them not to leave them alone, after he opened up about his feelings, but of course, his friends thought they'd know better.
“Can you order pizza while I take a shower?” his attention called back to where he was, as the sweet woman walked into the living room, with a bottle of wine and two cups. Mark chocked in his spit, when the thought of her showering, and how much he'd love to enter the scene, crossed his mind.
“Yeah, sure” he watched her walking away “Do you want some clothes?”
“Well, if I could steal one of your hodies tonight, I wouldn't mind”
He does as he's asked, calling a pizzeria and taking off his hoodie, hoping that she'd appreciate the smell of his cologne, that he wears only when she's coming around.
When she comes out, wearing her jeans and tank top, he throws the sweater at her, she puts it on and sits in the couch next to him, ready to start eating, reaching out for the bottle to serve them a cup after the first bite.
“I don't want to drink that” he'd never been a fan of alcohol, he knew he could use a boost, but he was still afraid of it.
“Huh? Why is that?”
“I don't drink wine” She recalled how he'd often drink with Johnny and her, whenever Johnny wanted to open a bottle, which happened quite often, but decided not to insist, although she did pour a cup for herself.
Mark, and any other men, really, always wondered what could she be thinking about, she was wild, energetic, but calmed and peaceful, she was always kind, but wouldn't hesitate to start a fight if to defend herself or someone else, she was never scared, but she was sensitive and fragile. He couldn't help the sigh that left his body, remembering why he had feelings for her in the first place. He knew how much she'd hate to be in a relationship, they had already discussed it, after some girl confessed to Mark, and she mentioned how relationships to her were useless, since she got all the love she wanted from her friends, and that way, she made sure that all the love she gave was reciprocal. When he told his manager about his feelings, expecting him to give him helpful advice, he just told him to forget about her. “women like her are too complicated, it's not worth it”. He wondered then, how many other guys would think the same, and refused to be one of those.
They were both full, and cuddling in the couch, she was sipping her second cup, when Mark suddenly poured a cup for himself too, and drank it in one large sip. He felt a rush through his body, his face flustered, and a numb sensation in his limbs. He was trying to keep himself still, but the sudden alcohol in his body made him bubbly and the woman next to him realized. The cheesy romcom that was playing on the back made him giggle in every other scene, and with every minute that went by, he felt looser and looser. He served another cup and drank it just as fast as the first one. Soon, he found himself leaning towards the body that sat next to him. Y/N pat her thigh, inviting Mark to rest his head there, which he did, while fidgeting with his fingers.
“You notice how wine makes people wanna feel, like sexy” he lets out in a serious tone.
Giggly, his friend shakes her head no, and places her cup in the table in front of them. “Do you feel like sexy?”
He sits himself back, eyes wide open, same serious expression in his face.
“I guess so?” he laughs at how dumb he must sound “I feel... Jiggly”
Her sweet, loud laugh fills the room, and Mark is proud of himself for making her so happy.
“Love, you should go to sleep already” he feels his face hotter and hotter, and can only imagine how red he must be “you were already tired, I'll clean up and meet you in your room-”
Mark bursts out of his bubble and speaks
“Don't do that” he says softly, as if he was genuinely hurt by her words “Please, don't do that”
Worried, Y/N walks closer to him, “Do what?”
He looks down to his feet, feeling tears forming in his eyeballs, product of his low alcohol tolerance, and his overall emotional state. “Dont call me love. You don't love me”
She reaches for his hands, attempting to make him look straight at her eyes “Of course I love you Mark”
“Not the way I want you to”
She had never been good with other people's feelings, especially romantic feelings, she had a hard time catching indirects.
“In which way is that?” hesitant, Mark stares at her for a couple seconds, before staring at her lips, too numb to do better, he grabes her chin and pulls her closer to him, a sweet, slow kiss surprising her as much as himself. When he pulls away and expects a response of any kind, all she can do is try to look at him.
“Oh, Mark” she finally manages to say “is this the way you feel?” he nods, still nervous but hopeful that she'll feel the same “You're drunk, go to sleep” she turns around as she cleans as quick as she can, as mark makes his way to his room, or to the first room he sees open.
Before the other men living in the dorms arrive and ask questions that she doesn't want to answer, she leaves, leaving a post it note in the fridge for Mark”
“Drink water and have a painkiller,
I had to go home. Thanks for the wine
-Y/N”
Too many weeks after, Mark calls her phone one more time before he enters the dorms, wondering if he had really done the worst thing in the world, for her to ghost him like that. He let a tired sigh out, grateful that he was home alone again. He goes to his room, ready to sleep for as long as he can, but when he opens the door, the lights are on, and in his bed sits what could be only described as an angel, beautiful as always, smiling and kind Y/N, with a cup of wine in her delicate hands, and another one on his nightstand, that she offers him as he's taking off his shoes and sweater.
With pain and regret in her eyes, as he's taking the first sip, she attempts to break the silence. “You ever notice how wine makes people feel sexy?”
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Fox isn’t surprised when he finds someone inside his shitty apartment when he opens the door, not when that someone is Thorn, since he had insisted he gave him and the rest of the Guard - or former Guard you should say - squad a key to it, just as a security measure since he insists on living alone and barely contacts them.
He just went out that day to get some groceries - yes, now instead of guarding assholes for life he just does mundane things like that one - but still, he could’ve warned him that he was going to come.
“Hey, Fox!” he says, smiling warmly at him. Even as the war went on, that smile has never lost its particular shine. How he managed is still a mystery to Fox.
“Thorn,” the other greets him, stepping inside. Despite everything he can’t help an amused huff seeing Thorn all comfortable on his couch. “I see you’ve made yourself at home already.”
“Well, you know, since I was all alone in here…” Thorn replies, before getting up and dragging Fox into a hug. “I’ve missed you, vod.”
Fox doesn’t like how easily he melts at the contact, but by now he’s gotten used to it. He receives so little physical affection that when he actually does it’s so intense that he almost cries - almost.
“I’ve missed you too.”
Since he’s there, Thorn makes himself useful by helping him with the groceries, putting them in the places they belong to.
“So… wanna come to 79’s later?” he asks, closing the fridge but not before taking a bottle of water and drink it like this was his home and he could do anything he wants with no repercussions. It’s all Fox’s fault: he let him get away with it at first in the name of hospitality, and now it’s gotten out of control. Oh well, it’s not like he can order him to stop now - he doesn’t have a rank anymore.
A sigh leaves his lips then. This isn’t the first time Thorn has attempted something like this, but by now he should know how it’s going to end.
“No.”
If his dry answer fazes Thorn at all, he doesn’t show any sign of it.
“Okay. How about tomorrow?”
Fox shakes his head. “No.”
Now Thorn’s enthusiasm begins to look a bit deflated, but he still doesn’t lose hope.
“Would you like to come any day this week?”
“No.”
This time a sigh leaves Thorn’s lips.
“Alright maybe let’s not go to 79’s,” he says, “How about somewhere else? Dex? You used to love Dex! Or we could go to this nice place Thire told me about--”
“Thorn.”
“Yes?”
“I’m not coming.” Fox gestures to the other. “If you want to have fun go, I’m not stopping you. Just leave me out of it.”
Thorn takes a deep breath.
“Why are you so determined to be stuck in your little hole?!” he asks, exasperation overflowing at every word, “You have the right to have a life! Nobody’s going to deny you that anymore!”
Unlike Thorn, Fox isn’t a fool; he knows that his situation is not as easy as he makes it out to be: even if the Clones Rights Bill has been approved, it’ll take some time before the rest of the galaxy will see them as actual people, and Fox himself isn’t also exactly loved by his vode.
He doesn’t blame them: he was the one who raised his blaster against one of his own; he didn’t kill him only because he had missed his heart by a small margin.
If he wasn’t exactly well-loved before - it goes with being a Corrie, as they called it - from that point on he became absolutely hated. He doesn’t blame them nor he tries to justify himself, even as he has to admit he doesn’t have many memories of that day in the first place; still, he’s not a coward and he refuses to hide behind such a pathetic excuse.
The thing is this: Fox doesn’t belong anywhere anymore; he knows there isn’t a place in which he’s welcome.
It’s fine, solitude isn’t that bad, even if it wasn’t supposed to be part of any of their lives, but he’s gotten used to it.
Besides…
“I do get out. In fact, I just came home after I got out.” It’s a weak retort, but someone has to make that point. As expected in fact, Thorn’s completely unimpressed with that comeback.
“Grocery shopping doesn’t count.”
“Not just that,” Fox weakly mutters.
He’s not lying though! Two days ago he got out to meet with Bly! Sure, they have avoided going to 79’s or any other clone created space, but they still saw each other, they still went for a walk, they still talked, they still acted like friends.
Of his old batch, Bly is the one Fox sees most; it used to be Ponds, but then… Fox doesn’t want to think about that. Apparently Bly has forgotten that his brothers can take care of themselves and has the need to be act like a mother even when that’s totally unnecessary - nevermind how relieved Fox feels when he comes visiting, that’s totally unrelated.
With Wolffe he mostly speaks via comms; they guy is still so busy trying to find a place for the Wolfpack, and although Fox doesn’t blame him - he would’ve done the same for the Guard - he’s glad that his men managed to find it on their own.
Hell, even Cody makes himself known from time to time, even though it’s mostly by sending holos from his most recent travels - yes, he always said that he wanted to explore the galaxy after the war, and now the son of a bantha is truly doing it.
Excluding his batch, the only people that remember his existence are Stone and Thire, who make a point to visit when they can, and Thorn, who is the one who bothers him most often.
No matter how you put it, in the end Fox is very much alone.
It’s just self-preservation, nothing more nothing less, really: the Coruscant Guard has always been in a weird spot, because they’ve been looked down by the majority of the vode for not fighting frontline.
Now, with the discovery of Palpatine’s true identity, things have only gotten worse because they’ve been suspected of working with him, as if they haven’t been simply other pawns for him to manipulate. Not that they have ever been accused directly - except from some drunk vod at 79’s - but it was easy drawing conclusions with the way they were looked at, or the general distrust that the vode reserved them, like they could still be working against them.
At least Fox has managed to shift the blame around so that instead of “the Guard worked with Palpatine” people go around saying that only Fox did. His reputation is already damaged beyond repair, so why not? At least the others will get that second chance at life that he knows he wouldn’t get either way.
Deep down, very deep down, he envies them, because they truly are free, unlike him, who will be chained to his past crimes until the day he dies and probably even after - he shivers just thinking about how he’ll be remembered by the future generation, if he’ll be remembered at all.
Still, it all becomes meaningless in front of the pure joy he feels when they narrate him the last shenanigans they get themselves involved in. They are truly free and happy now, and Fox is happy for them.
… If sometimes he wishes their places were switched, that he was the one who could live freely as his heart desires, well, that’s something only for him to know and keep secret.
Sometimes he thought about confiding in Thorn, the only one he’d ever consider burdening with this stuff, but every time he decides to do he quickly changes his mind; it’s not worth it.
Now more than ever he wants to scream, not even at Thorn in particular, just scream, as if all his anguish and problems would disappear just with that. It would be too good to be true
It’s not that he doesn’t want to get out, it’s just that he can’t. It’s not safe, it’s not…
He’s afraid of all the stares he’d get, of all the words that would be thrown at him. Normally it wouldn’t phase him - he’s used to it - but day by day he’s becoming more susceptible to his emotions again; it almost makes him miss that time when he was so detached to seem almost a droid. At least he could get things done back then, not like now that he has to mentally prepare himself to go out at least one day before.
At least now he’s free, however, isn’t he?
Technically he could go wherever he wants, could do whatever he wants, if only… No, he can’t. People wouldn’t be happy to have him around.
Thorn tries again. He’s gotten so close to Fox that if he was someone else Fox would’ve already tried to put some distance between them, but with Thorn he’s used to it.
“Fox, what’s wrong?”
“I can’t. I--” Kark, his voice is breaking.
“Nobody’s stopping you. In fact, the only one stopping you is yourself, trust me,” Thorn reassures him. “I know you still feel guilty, but most vode have gotten over it. In the end we were all in a shitty situation. Besides, you did hesitate in the end, didn’t you? That’s why Fives is still alive and why we discovered who the Sith Lord was.”
What Thorn is saying makes sense, but this doesn’t mean that it’s easy for Fox to accept it; after so much time spent with self-hatred as his only constant companion, he can’t act like he never thought any bad things about himself. Besides, he doubts the rest of the vode really have forgiven him.
Still, Thorn wouldn’t lie about this, because as much as the fool still insists on wanting to cheer him up, he knows that he won’t accomplish anything by telling lies - actually, he’d make things even worse - and there’s still the fact that deep down Fox wants to leave his place, wants to do something with his life, but… it’s scary.
“Even if I decide to leave, it’ll take time before I can organize anything,” he says, because it’s so much easier saying that rather than to admit that he’s the one who needs time.
These last months have been hard for everybody, but nobody talks about how especially hard they’ve been for Fox. He’s just so tired of everything.
Yes, that’s it, he’s tired. If he could he’d disappear without leaving any trace, but he knows that if he does someone would come searching for him; in the end there are some people that care about him, but at this point Fox wishes they didn’t because it would make his situation easier: he wouldn’t hold onto that love he still scarcely receives anymore, he wouldn’t suffer because it’s still so little.
Whose fault is that anyway? It’s his. It’s him the one who keeps pushing people away. It’s just that he craves and hates the attention at the same time, a contradiction that he still hasn’t sorted out.
He’s so focused on trying not to lose it in front of Thorn that he barely notices him moving them to the couch. He does feel it however when he closes his arms around him, when he kisses his forehead, when he says that it’s fine, that it’s ok, that he’s safe.
Fox has gone so long without allowing this kind of softness in his life, but damn he missed it. If he began to let people closer again it might happen more often, but how is he supposed to do it?
He doesn’t know how much time passes before he gathers enough strength to speak. He won’t lie: staying like this almost makes him want to curl into a ball and fall asleep in the security of Thorn’s arms, but it’s something that Fox would rather avoid, at least for now. Maybe in the future he might be able to let go and actually do it.
“I want to leave,” he eventually says.
“Leave to where?” Thorn asks.
“I don’t know, but I want to travel.”
“We can do that,” Thorn replies, smiling at Fox, “We can do whatever we want.”
Yes it’s true, they can…
“You think Thire and Stone would want to come? It would be nice having the squad back together.”
“I’m sure they’d love it.”
Fox doesn’t know if Thorn’s actually right, but it’s reassuring to hear him say that.
For now he’ll bask in his brother’s warmth for a bit longer. They can plan another time - there’s no rush after all.
The idea of the outside isn’t something he’s still entirely comfortable with, but Fox would also be lying if he said that he isn’t looking forward to exploring it. Coruscant is pretty and all… but he’s grown tired of it.
He might still not have found his place in the new word, but who knows, maybe there’s hope for him yet.
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Run To You - Chpt.1
Summary: Bucky has had the day from hell and all he wants is to buy what he needs and get home to his sick kid. Enter Steve Rogers in the wrong place at the wrong time and Bucky’s day goes from bad to mortifying. Master list is HERE :)
Content Warnings: A smidge of bad language, but really ya’ll should expect that from me by now lol
Word Count: 2.3k
Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Who’s ready to start a new adventure with me? I knew I wanted to write a kid!fic with Bucky and Steve but I didn’t expect it to go quite this way until I jokingly called a friend “Captain Clueless” and then couldn’t get that name out of my head in relation to Steve. I fell completely in love with this little universe as I went and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. XOXO - Ash
Chapter One
Bucky Barnes is not at his finest. He just got off a sixteen hour shift from his job as an ER nurse and can barely keep his eyes open. The shift should have ended four hours earlier, but a tour bus accident had them overwhelmed on what had already been a busy night. Bucky was looking forward to catching a few hours of sleep while Becca was at preschool but nope, he came home to a frazzled best friend/ babysitter and a sick four year old. It was always something with Becca, her immune system just wasn’t what it needed to be. Bucky couldn’t fault her for that, she had been born premature and that unfortunately resulted in a whole host of health issues for the little girl. He would never regret adopting her, it was the best decision he’d ever made, but some days parenthood wore on him.
Bucky moves the load of laundry Natasha had started for him into the dryer. It smells clean but there will forever be a slight stain from puke on the ladybug print sheets. He can try his heavy duty stain remover on it later, but he knows there is only so much that can be done for white fabric and bodily fluids. There’s a reason most of his scrubs are black. After checking in on Becca, Bucky begs Natasha to stay a little longer so he can run down to the bodega to pick up a few things for when Becca wakes up. He would have sworn they had an extra bottle of Pedialyte, but apparently they’d used it up during Becca’s last bout with the flu.
Natasha waits patiently, listening to Bucky complain about his shift while he quickly changes out of his scrubs into a pair of soft grey sweats and an old Blink 182 tshirt. She’s been his best friend since their first year of college when they met in Intro to Biology. The two of them have been inseparable ever since, both even choosing to stay in Brooklyn after college instead of going back to where they were from. Natasha’s family was from Russia but traveled a lot so she was happy staying in the city that felt like home to her, and Bucky would have done just about anything to avoid going back to the tiny town in Indiana where his parents were still selling drugs out of their trailer and making each other miserable.
Bucky had thought he was free of his family forever when NYU accepted him into their nursing program. It was his way out of a poverty stricken little town that people rarely escaped from. Bucky had left home at eighteen with no intentions of returning, and he probably never would have, but during his last year of nursing school he found out through Facebook that his thirty eight year old mother was pregnant. To no one’s surprise, his mom was still dealing, still with his deadbeat dad, and was too far along when she found out she was pregnant to have any other option than having the baby. It was a repeat of the situation she’d found herself in at sixteen when she had Bucky. Knowing what it was like to grow up in that house, Bucky couldn’t allow another child to be brought into such a toxic environment. As soon as his mom confirmed the news was true, he hopped on the next flight out to Indiana and started the process to legally adopt his sister once she was born.
When Rebecca Grace Barnes came into the world nine weeks early the doctors said it was a miracle she survived. She was so small, just barely three pounds, and needed to stay in the NICU for just over a month. Bucky had made arrangements with his professors to turn in exams and papers online, barely managing to finish up his nursing degree while biding his time before he could go back to Brooklyn with his baby sister. It had been a wild ride trying to get his nursing career started while caring for a newborn but Natasha had been a life saver. She and their other friend Clint had stepped up in a huge way, helping to watch Becca when he needed to work and daycare wasn’t open. Their schedules had gotten even messier recently when Becca started preschool. Bucky is counting down the days until kindergarten starts so their schedules will align enough for him to only lean on Nat and Clint one or two days a week at most.
“Are you even listening to me?” Natasha throws a balled up Minnie Mouse sock at Bucky who’s too tired to dodge and instead gets a face full of pink fleece.
“Yeah, Nat,” Bucky sighs, wishing he could take off his aching prosthetic but knowing he’ll need both hands for shopping bags. “I’m getting you a choco taco and a red bull this time. I got you.”
Natasha nods happily, completely unphased by Bucky’s eye roll. She’s getting her wake up juice and her crunchy chocolatey sugar, and that is all that matters.
Bucky rushes around the bodega grabbing everything he’ll need to deal with a sick kid, throwing things in the basket without even bothering to check price tags. His bank account will hate him, but he doesn’t exactly have time or options to find the best deals. Grabbing Nat’s items and an iced coffee for himself, he waits in line as an older man chats with the clerk while the teenager rings up his order. The television in the corner is playing the local news, apparently Captain America visited a rec center in Brooklyn recently. There are sound bites from elderly residents and young kids fawning over him, and one of the Captain himself extolling the importance of community and keeping kids off the streets.
Bucky thinks his eyes will get stuck in the back of his head with how hard he rolls them. “This fucking guy.” Bucky grumbles as he places his basket on the counter, unloading his stuff.
The clerk nods in silent agreement.
“I’m sure he was a ‘bright shining beacon of hope’ back in WWII but he has no clue what’s going on in the real word nowadays.” Bucky continues.
The clerk nods once again and Bucky, feeling particularly exhausted and grumpy, yells over at the TV, “It’s not all rainbows and sunshine Captain Clueless!”
“Captain Clueless?” A deep voice rumbles from behind him, “I’ve been called a lot of things over the years, but that’s a new one.”
Bucky sees the clerk's face go pale and the kid freezes, confirming what Bucky feared when he heard that rich baritone behind him. Oh fuck.
Turning around, Bucky prepares himself for the worst. Instead, he finds an extremely amused looking Captain America holding a bottle of water and a bag of swedish fish.
“I’m… I… I didn’t mean…” Bucky stammers. He doesn’t know how to politely explain I meant every word but never meant for you to hear it.
The register pings as the clerk frantically finishes ringing up Bucky’s order, trying to get both men out of the shop before the situation can get any worse. The sound startles Bucky and he turns around to see the green blinking $58.79 on the little box. His stomach sinks, there went grocery shopping for the week. But, he reasons, Becca won’t want much for a few days while she recovers and he’s no stranger to a ramen-only diet. They’ll get by, just like they always do.
Before Bucky can hand over his last three twenties, a sleek black card taps against the card reader and the machine starts blinking, processing it. Bucky spins around in surprise only to literally face plant into a solid wall of muscle. Muscle that smells like tea tree and mint, yum. Bucky moves backwards in surprise, bumping into the counter but getting himself away from the giant of man who’s also moving backwards after their collision.
“It’s on me.” Steve tells him with a shrug.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Bucky insists, “I insulted you.”
“You were just being honest.” Steve reasons, “I don’t get to hear people’s honest opinions all that much.”
“That has to be weird.”
Steve chuckles, “Pal, you got no idea.”
“Well, thank you. And I am sorry you heard that.” Bucky collects his bags, still dumbfounded by the whole experience.
“I’d like to hear more about why you said it. Whatever you think it is I’m missing about the twenty-first century. I’m just out for a run so if you don’t mind company on your way back to wherever, maybe we could talk?”
Bucky shakes his head. The man actually wants to learn how to be a better person after being insulted by a random grungey stranger in a bodega. “You really are Captain America.” Bucky murmurs, still stunned.
Steve chuckles again; a deep, throaty sound. “Yeah, guilty as charged. But you can just call me Steve.” Steve winks conspiratorially and Bucky thinks he might actually combust. No one should be allowed to be that good looking.
Bucky waits as the cashier rings Steve up for his things and Steve taps his card again to pay. “I thought it was weird enough getting a card that swiped when I came out of the ice, but now this one doesn’t even swipe. It just taps and poof, done.” Steve says with a faint tone of awe.
Bucky can’t imagine how many things Steve needed to adjust to after waking up from the ice. “Far cry from what you were used to, huh?”
“Well, it sure beats keeping coins in old coffee cans.”
Bucky glances over at Steve as they leave the bodega together, “You do that whole ‘awe shucks, man out of time’ thing really well. Is it real though? No offense, you can’t really be that well adjusted. You’re still human.”
Steve meets Bucky’s eyes for a moment, crystalline blue piercing into smoke grey-blue, assessing him. After a few beats he decides Bucky is someone who can handle the truth. “It’s a lot easier to do that than to curse up a storm every time some piece of tech pisses me off. Plays out a lot better with the whole Captain America image too.”
“I didn’t think Captain America even knew how to swear.” Bucky teases.
“He doesn’t, but Steve Rogers does. I grew up in Brooklyn, I know how to curse.”
Bucky laughs, swinging his bags idly as they walk in silence for a few steps.
Steve breaks the silence, reminding him of why they’re walking down the street together in the first place, “So really, why do you think I’m so out of touch? Because I thought SHIELD did a bang up job teaching me about the world and what I missed while I was out.”
“I’m sure they did, but SHIELD is still an agency with their own ideas and agendas. I promise you, you got a watered down version of real life. Do me a favor; when you get home look up what they say about The Great Depression and WWII. Do a little research on how we look back at those times. Then think about how it really was back then when you were living it. I would bet you lunch that the two don’t line up.”
“I never thought about it that way.” Steve admits. “I’ll look it up today, promise.”
They arrive on Bucky’s stoop and he climbs up a step, looking down at Steve instead of up at him. He wants to know what Steve thinks once he does some research but doesn’t know how to ask. Luckily, Steve beats him to it.
“I’m going to need your number if you’re taking me out to lunch.” Steve says casually, a light hint of teasing.
Bucky blushes, trying to remind himself that he was the one who threw the lunch bet out there. Steve Rogers would never just ask him out like that. “I… uh… um…” he fumbles anyway.
Steve takes a step back in retreat, his own cheeks flaming. “I’m sorry, that was. I’m sorry. You clearly have a sick kid to get back to, and I’m sure a lovely wife waiting for you too.” he motions at Bucky’s bags. “Thank you, for being honest with me.” Steve turns to hurry off and, thankfully, Bucky’s brain catches up with him.
“Steve, no.” he blurts out. “No wife. Sick kid, yes. But no, um, no one else. If you want my number, I’ll give it to you. My schedule is a little weird because of my job but I do want to know what you think when you get done looking things up.”
Steve smiles up at Bucky, soft and hopeful and genuine. It isn’t the All American facade grin he uses for the cameras, and it feels all the more special to Bucky because of it. Steve hands over his phone to Bucky so he can enter in his contact info and then sends him a quick text so Bucky has his number too. “So, I’ll call you later then?” Steve tries, sounding a little unsure still.
“Yeah, I’ll look forward to it, Steve.” Bucky looks up at his doorway, knowing he needs to get back to Becca but not wanting Steve to leave quite yet.
Steve takes the hint and gives him another soft smile and a small wave as he turns and heads off down the bustling city sidewalk.
Bucky stands there a moment, collecting himself and trying to process it all, before hurrying back upstairs to his little apartment to relieve Natasha of babysitting duty.
*** New chapters will be posted on Sunday and Wednesday nights until the fic is complete ***
#stucky#stucky fanfic#shrunkyclunks#modern au#modern day au#steve rogers#captain america#non winter soldier bucky barnes#nurse!bucky#parent!bucky#becca barnes#kid!becca barnes#adopted child#marvel#steve rogers x bucky barnes
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Hey, everyone!! This is my first time sharing my work with others. It’s an original story, so I hope you like it. Please note that it’s about an abuse victim, so it may be triggering for some readers.
I would also like to thank @elailin for your support and encouragement to share this with the world!
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I watch the wheels in the recorder as they rotate.
Is this real or another scene? I need to be careful or he’ll strike me by surprise.
The man sitting across from me sips his coffee as he writes in his folder. He looks familiar but I can’t place him.
“Why don’t we start from the beginning.” He says with a soft voice like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he talks to loud. “Please state your name and tell us what happened.”
Inhaling, I wrap my jacket closer to me feeling cold through my bones.
The beginning… they want me to go to the beginning.
Clearing my throat, I start, “My name is Delta Pennway, and I have been his prisoner for four years.”
****
Without a doubt, spring is my favorite time of year. I love the way the air smells of flowers blooming and how the trees sprout. My favorite sent is the smell of roses, it’s calming… reassuring. My mom used to say that spring is the season for awakening. The trees sprout new leaves; The bugs come out of their homes to pollinate the plants, and people begin their journey for the perfect summer body. We rekindle friendships that went dormant during the cold months, while children play in the park no longer bundled in their layers.
As a little girl, me and my mom started a tradition where we go to the local pastry shop and pick out way too many sweets, then eat them in the park. I always picked these little pink cupcakes that had cream cheese frosting with slices of glazed strawberries on top. My mom always chose anything with lemon. Lemon tarts, or lemon meringue pie with more whipped cream than pie. Then we spend the day sitting on our little quilt that my mom made from old baby clothes and watch the people in the park.
Even now, with my mom being gone two years, I still keep to our tradition. That’s where I met William. He was one of those runners in the park.
I was eating a slice of my mom’s favorite pie and watching a little toddler play with his puppy. The little boy could not be older than 3 and shouldn’t be tending to the puppy on his own. His mom, on the phone a few feet away, wasn’t paying enough attention to them. The puppy had the attention span of a little butterfly, in fact, it was a little butterfly that he was running after, leaving the boy behind. But the little boy was determined he would not lose his puppy. He ran after the dog as fast as his stumbling steps could carry him, and like every little kid, he paid no attention to his surroundings. His puppy was now on the other side of the park, leading him across the runners’ path. Like any typical male, William was running but instead of watching where he was going, he was staring at the toddler’s mom who still wasn’t paying attention to her kid.
Shooting up without thinking, I sprint across the grass. In hindsight, there were a couple different ways I could have intercepted the toddler—Calling out to get his attention, or maybe running for the kid. Unfortunately, those ideas never occurred to me. Instead, I ran straight for the man and tackled him. He might have sued me for twisting his ankle if I hadn’t shared my pastries with him. He wasn’t strikingly handsome, but he had a softness about his eyes that drew me in, and I enjoyed his company.
Our relationship progressed typically from there. It started with the occasional coffee dates, which eventually turned into dinners. He was the guy that girls could only dream of meeting. He would often surprise me with flowers and picnics. He was easy to talk to and listened to anything without judging or getting board. He was even there for me the day I put my cat, Bugs, down. If I ever needed to cry, he would be there with a box of tissues and a gallon of ice cream.
But do men like that really exist? Everyone’s true colors have to come out… eventually.
After six months of dating, William started to get clingy. Anytime I tried to make plans with friends, William would override them claiming it would be better if we stay in that night, or surprise me with dinner plans that we can’t get out of. My friends tried talking to me about it frequently, saying that William was too demanding, and it isn’t healthy to spend all my time with one person. But before they could convince me they were right; William would show up. Even if they made a surprise visit, it was like William always knew what I was doing and who I was with.
It didn’t take long before I had ostracized myself from my friends. They became people that I saw by happenstance at the grocery. Texts were sporadic and the phone calls nonexistent. But I had the perfect man, and I thought that was enough.
****
I hear my name being called as if it is trying to reach me through water.
“Miss Pennway. Delta.”
I know that voice. It belongs to the kind policeman. But those eyes… I’m still in that room.
Panic rises through me. I have to get out.
“Delta.” The officer’s eyes are before me now. They’re kind, but I’m still freezing.
He speaks again in that soothing voice. “Delta, I know that this is hard for you, but I need you to recount everything that happened. How did he take you? What happened in that warehouse?”
I try to focus on his words to tether me to this moment.
You’re fine, Delta. He’s not here. You’re finally safe.
I take a sip of the water in front of me and try to focus on the buttons of the officer’s jacket.
Safe.
****
William’s greatest passion in life is his job as a screenwriter. He started out as a bank teller while doing screenwriting on the side. Until six years ago, he wrote a hit film called The Flame on Sunday. It was some kind of science fiction crap that I never understood and found boring. But I was the only one who held that opinion. That year, they awarded him the AACTA, Award for Best Adapted Screenplay, along with being nominated for the International Award for Best Screenplay and an Oscar nomination.
Despite his love for screenwriting, William never liked to talk about his job. But that doesn’t stop me from being curious. However, any time I ask how he writes his scripts, or where he gets his inspiration, all things I thought I should know being his girlfriend; William mumbles something about an interview, research, or visualization and changes the subject. I learn early on not to push the subject. If I did, it would end in some long argument with me feeling bad. Will always makes me feel guilty like everything is my fault… and maybe it is. If I don’t push him, we don’t fight.
Mid - October, I get a strange text from William asking me to come to a warehouse to help him with work. He says the girl who normally assists him is out of town and he needs someone he can trust to help him. Ever the dutiful girlfriend, I rush over without thinking twice. When I get there, I find William pacing outside. He has been working hard the last few months on a new story and is furious with his assistant. I think it odd that he has never mentioned having an assistant but push the thought to the back of my mind.
William quickly ushers me inside to what he calls the staging room. It could be the size of a studio apartment. The walls are plaster with a concrete floor. This is the room that he uses to visualize the scenes he writes. All writers have different ways of creating and the screenwriter’s job is to create the blueprint to a film. But William feels it’s important to visualize the scene before adding it to the script to decide if it’s worth having.
He is the screenwriter, so who am I to question his methods?
I start coming frequently to help. After the first week, it’s clear that Will’s assistant will not be returning and Will convinces me to quit my teller job and come work for him. At first, I’m heavily against quitting my job, but like always, Will gets his way and I help him full time. Besides, this is his dream, so why shouldn’t I help him chase it… right?
This is the worst job I’ve ever had, and I had some awful experiences as a store teller. Will always makes me feel uncomfortable. When we are working, he becomes a different person. He becomes cold and detached. I try not to think on it too much; Maybe he’s just trying to keep things professional. But his eyes, normally a warm brown color, become bleak. They make me feel like I’m floating, lost in space, cold and alone. This version of Will is not the one I fell in love with. This person scares me.
There are many characters I play; a school teacher, a mom, sometimes even playing a young girl and her best friend. But there are some parts that not even I am prepared for.
One evening, William walks in with a friend of his I’ve never seen before. Without so much as an introduction, Will tells me to take my clothes off and sleep with this man. Shocked is not the correct word to describe what goes through me. Confusion, rage, disbelief—all better ways to describe the storm inside me.
How could he possibly be okay with me sleeping with another man? This has to be some kind of sick joke.
The look that Will gives me clarifies that this is no joke. Those dark eyes stare me down, making me shiver. Finally, snapping into reality and the truth of what he’s asking, I turn and storm out of the room, with a seething Will at my heals. He spews something about me doing this for him because it’s his passion and if I really love him, I shouldn’t have a problem. But I’ve had enough of this Will. I’m tired of never seeing my friends, tired of Will making me feel inadequate, and tired of the person he is while in that room. Surly if he loves me, he wouldn’t ask this. I make the only decision he leaves me with; I decide it’s time for me to leave.
Turning slowly, I tell him I can’t take this anymore and that I’m leaving. We need to take some time apart, and I tell him he needs to find a new assistant because I can’t be around the man he is in that warehouse. I didn’t think it possible but Will’s eyes grew colder as the words came out of my mouth. This time they make me feel as though I’m stranded on Neptune, the coldest planet of our solar system.
Without saying a word, Will walks back inside. Turning away, I walk home using the time to think through what just happened. Even with the hour walk, I am no closer to understanding. By the time I reach my house, I’m still cold, despite the subtle warmth still in the air, and my mind whirls from what happened. Hoping to feel better in the morning, I settle into my bed and fall asleep.
Slowly, the corpse of sleep falls away. Still feeling cold, I pull the blanket closer to me, noticing for the first time that this blanket is scratchy. I hate scratchy blankets and refuse to buy them—this can’t be mine. Opening me eyes to examine further, I realize this is not my room. The walls, which are a light pink color, are now plaster white. The bed, normally soft and fluffy, is now two wood pallets with a thin pillow on top. And sitting in the corner are those eyes—eyes so cold, I feel like a corpse abandoned in the snowy streets.
“Hello, Delta.” His voice, which used to be like a warm blanket to my soul, now feels as though it immerses me in an icy bathtub.
“What’s going on? Where are we, Will?” my voice comes out as a child who thinks a monster lives in the closet.
The rat of a man stands and starts slowly making his way toward me. “You see, my love, you walked away from me… and we can’t have that right now.” He stops mere inches from touching the pallets. “I’ve thought about what you said, and frankly, I need you…” He pauses as if to consider his next words. “You are here because I need you to be my scene girl. But you treated me poorly by walking out on me. I needed you to do that scene so I can finish this script, but you left. Do you know how that makes me feel?”
“Look, Will,” I try to whisper out, “I’m sorr—”
“Shh,” Will says as he places his finger on my lips. “If you’re sorry for your behavior, then you will do as I ask.”
“Will,” I try again to speak this time getting to my feet, forcing Will to take a step back. “I don’t understand what’s going on. Just let me go home and we can talk about this after I’ve had time to think.”
Rage blooms across his face. William grips my arm and throws me toward the door. Storming across the room, he says, “Do you honestly think that I’m going to let you go home?” Grabbing me by the hair, he forces me to my feet and drags me through the door. “You will finish the scene.”
As we walk down a hallway, I notice five doors with padlocks on them. Noticing my staring, Will tells me they are for the other people he will bring in. I can’t believe that there will be more!
How did you not see this coming, Delta? All the signs are there; convincing me to quit my job, ostracizing me from my friends, and I have no family that will come looking for me. I’m on my own… alone.
As we pass through another door, he leads me into his staging room with a makeshift bedroom. The room is sparsely decorated, but what I see shocks me further. This is my bedroom. There is a Queen-sized bed covered in my favorite duvet with tiny yellow lilies on it. The walls are a light pink color, and on the bedside table is a picture of me and my mom at the park the spring before she passed away.
Will continues to pull me toward the fake bedroom. Just as we reach it, a man turns the corner. It’s Will’s friend from last night. Nausea mixed with panic settles in my stomach.
I turn to Will to plead one last time, but before I can speak, Will pushes me into the arms of his friend.
Grabbing his laptop, Will sits in a chair on the edge of the makeshift room. “Proceed.”
This world quickly becomes my life. Each day is a new scene sometimes with a new stage. William puts together different makeshift rooms around the warehouse, and new people slowly become prisoners alongside me. I don’t try to learn their names anymore. Few people live long after getting here. Either they kill themselves, or Will gets sick of them and kills them. That’s what happened to the assistant before me. Will claims she wasn’t a good enough actress. Most of the time, I forget what the others look like ‘cause they aren’t here long. Whenever I’m around them, I focus more on making sure I’m being good. William has various ways of punishing us if he thinks we don’t do a scene well enough, and if we don’t improve, he doesn't waste any more time with us.
Punishments were usually by taking away food and water, but Will also enjoys beating us. If something breaks during a scene, he strikes. Usually with his fist, foot, or even a riding crop. Sometimes he’ll grab a prop, like a chair, or one dish, and use that.
After the first year, I started to lose hope of escaping. There are no windows in my room or in the staging room, so that option is out. I tried to pry the door open, but there are two padlocks on it. By the end of the second year, William had to start hand cuffing and blindfolding me when I’m escorted between rooms. The blindfold isn’t really necessary, but the handcuffs are. Once, and only once, I tried to strangle him when he came to collect me. But Will is too strong for my weakened state, and it ended with me being choked till I passed out. He took away my water for two days as punishment.
This is my life... void of hope. Empty.
****
The cold is back. It’s sweeping through the room as if in search of me. Will I ever be warm again?
“Miss Pennway, are you okay to continue?” It’s the voice of the officer again. “Are you cold? I could send for a blanket.”
I’m back with the officer.
Safe. You’re safe now, Delta.
“Um, no. Thank you.”
This has been harder than I thought it would be, but now they know he’s a monster.
“Then if you would, please explain how you escaped.”
Escaped?
“I… Um. Well…” I trail off.
I can’t remember. How did I get here? When did I make it out?
That cold feeling hits me as a wall enclosing around me and making the room smaller.
I didn’t… I didn’t escape!
The door behind the officer slams open and I’m hit by those cold dark eyes. This was another scene.
Will, stalks over to me clapping slowly. “Well done, Delta. You really made me believe this one. It was your best work yet.”
When he reaches me, he puts on my blindfold and handcuffs. Forcing me to stand, he leads me toward my room.
“I have a little surprise waiting in your room for doing such great work today.” He says leaning close to my ear.
My mind is racing. Why didn’t I notice that the officer looked like one of the others? I believed him to be truly caring. I was safe.
We reach my room and Will takes off the handcuffs and blindfold. Leaning in, he gives me a kiss on my cheek and without a word, turns and leaves, locking my door.
Stunned, I stand staring at the door for what must have been hours. I wanted it to be true… That’s why it was so believable. I want to be free and safe. I want to feel the sun coming out after a long winter. I want to smell the flowers as I pass by the flower shops. I want to taste one of those little strawberry cupcakes from the bakery. But I didn’t escape. I’m still his prisoner.
Turning to my bed I spot the present Will left for me. It’s a piece of lemon meringue pie and one rose… The mark of a new spring.
The start of the fifth year.
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If you’ve made it this far, thank you so much!!! I know this is a pretty sad ending. If you would like to see it ended differently or maybe a part two, please comment below. Again, thank you for reading!
#fic#my writing#whump#oc#writing#for the world to see#love of reading#book worm#booklover#fction#love each other#sharethelove#made for you#16+#16 and over#sixteen and over#short story#short#love to read#oc whump#oc writing
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Dawn and Twilight’s Social Media Accounts
Kuya
@NevermoreButSnore.
1230 followers.
Yes, I copied Edgar Allan Poe. Yes, I’m not sorry about the rhyme. Or calling him out.
Not that he really cares.
Insists that he is a headcanon creator on Twitter
Everyone who follows him knows that he is lying.
If we really had to classify him as a writer, it would one who posts those way-too-accurate posts about writers complaining about writing.
Like the notebook hoarding one. Not that anyone here in the fandom is guilty of that, haha... haha... ha.
Ironically is one of the more popular ones out of the whole group.
His flat responses and laziness are way too prominent to NOT be noticed.
If you actually tentatively sneak into his DMs though, for writing tips, he will patiently listen and... rather bluntly advise you.
It’s still advice though and is always the type to check out and reblog any short fanfics.
It just has to be weird, sporadic hours because he is the type to fall asleep with the phone on his face.
Koga Kitamikado
1230 followers.
@CapitalKayKay
Listen, there is a reason why a lot of successful businesses chose Instagram as their social media so Koga is no exception.
What makes his account stand out, as you can see from his rather cheeky username, is that he is willing to be an open book.
So he isn’t constantly shoving down any products he is sponsoring or whatever piece he is endorsing.
It’s more of genuinely wanting to hang out and explore what the world has to offer.
Whenever he posts a picture of the gang together, he’s the one tagging all of them, even the ones with hard usernames.
And there’s always a nice comment thanking whoever hosted the fun time or being appreciative of the area and the locals.
It helps that he has a sense of humour so the memes are always just the right amount of teasing but nothing too bad that will deter potential clients.
Because of his down-to-earth nature, he reels everyone in.
Uses the space to invite everyone following him on any celebration/casual outing.
The thing is... he has a lot of followers.
So... good luck.
Aoi
1150 followers.
@DeredArtTooTsun
Look, even he knows he is a Tsundere. It’s a small victory getting him to acknowledge that, let alone use it to brand himself here.
But god, he’s the man I’m most jealous of on Tumblr.
PERFECT BULLET JOURNALS AND SKETCHES.
Got the spreads that literally define ‘aesthetic’, a perfect lineup of art materials even with pencils that have their numbers faded, and somehow, the emotions can pass through the paper and screen.
Even does tutorials on perspectives, positions with cute annotations. Just don’t praise them for being adorable though and focus on improving your skills, dummy.
Ironically though, it’s his mindless vents that get the most number of notes.
It helps that the pics include him, a very cute... I mean... manly boy screaming at very, very hot men.
A bit baffled but whatever it takes to get commissions.
That’s right, he takes them. At least there is a back-up option should the restaurant ever go out of business.
Spoiler Alert: Still doesn’t get paid as much. People, have you seen the number of talented artists here? Aoi might be in the rankings but it’s still hard attracting business.
Support your fandom artists, everyone!
Ginnojo
1000 followers. Just nice.
Ginnojoz
Poor grandpa didn’t intend to put that extra ‘z’ letter, it was a typo because scales don’t get along with haptic touch.
And unfortunately, doesn’t understand how to change it.
Once, he was huge on Vine before it died. The end of an era that he has to witness again. RIP.
Gin-Gin, it is RIGHT. THERE.
Expect to find his super short self-defence videos and Book Club Readings on YouTube.
Girls actually appreciate his instructions and attempts to provide help even if they are alone.
He did try to respond to the nice ones and actually succeeds.
It’s always easier getting to know the language of women when you don’t really see/touch them.
A deep baritone is perfect for some sexy excerpt of a historical novel...
Until he corrects the setting.
In fact, he sometimes rage-quits and rewrites it.
Unlike Kuya, him doing those established ideas actually catches on.
Yura and Gaku
1500 followers.
MelodyandTheBeat.
... Tik-tokers. Tik-Tok people?
WTH do you call them?
As you can see, they are the most popular since it’s combined stardom.
Look, their covers and music mixes are beautiful.
They always have their own version that somehow combines traditional Japanese music... with k-pop.
And of course, food porn.
Just be grateful there isn’t that awful squelching sound you hear when you consume jelly or the breaking of chilli seeds.
Listen, I usually separate them because it’s never nice to be grouped as having the same activity as your twin.
But in this case, being both equally beautiful AND talented sells their uploads.
Even the cringy ones made because Yura is such a Luddite.
Like just turning his head and being amazed his hair can turn so many colours, being impressed with each tilt until he gets to a black shade.
Suddenly hurls the phone away. Gee, wonder why? Guess black isn’t the new... black for him?
Gaku sometimes even introduces new filters he created based on Yura’s random requests that strangely get circulated on the site.
Oji
550 followers all know Oji-Sanz
Unlike Ginnojo, he deliberately adds the ‘z’ letter to sound cool.
You wanna know what’s worse?
He actually uses Facebook.
Aoi decides to give up on him. Nobody blames the poor student.
It’s apparently some old form of social media? Never used it, no sirree.
Always changing his relationship status but at the end of the day, he’s single and ready...
To post about all the lovely ladies destined to enter his restaurant.
He thinks it’s great publicity.
It really isn’t but one good thing about Oji is he includes EVERYONE.
This man respects his customers and always helps advertise their wares, especially if their connections lead to more resources.
And less grocery shopping on his part.
Does post the recipes he and Aoi created but will never use because the Milk Hall had a certain style to follow.
Officially makes Aoi his son... on Facebook at least.
Aoi now tolerates the account.
Barely.
Toichiro Yuri
WhatheMeSay has 1231 followers!
In your face @CapitalKayKay and @NevermorebutSnore!!
You know, I’m so glad that there aren’t any users with those names because I’d be so scared of accidentally tagging them.
Also, geddit? Because... What the fox say?
Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding... yeah, I’ll stop.
Pinterest Guy. And actually does spend on his ‘hobby’ to show off to everyone.
It does boost you and your father’s sales so there is nothing to complain about.
His boards are always alliterated just to sound super catchy and it works so long as he gets the right emoji.
Kabuki plays better be promoted or else.
Filled with candid pictures of his victims all taken at different angles you didn’t know were possible and in varying degrees of hilariously misunderstood positions.
He even supplies a donation link, heavily leveraged by his followers, since there are incentives tied to it like early access.
A bit suspicious the photos look like cropped out parts from Koga’s posts and some of the text resembles Kuya’s... er... wisdom?
He takes an unholy amount of selfies when he thinks no one is looking and so they are always surprised upon finding them on the Selfie Board.
There is a locked board that no one can access, even his followers who are his comrades in real life.
It’s actually just one picture in there.
It’s you smiling and giggling at a joke of his. Not even you know it’s been taken. Guess he is as soft as his fur, eh? He better come out soon or else.
Kuro
Kuroruohtumbling
Ginnojo is unfortunately just old enough to have grown up with Scooby-Doo to understand the reference.
Snapchat, like a snapping snake! Hiss!
Unironically loves the puppy face.
Ok, but the glimpses of his stunts help show snippets of the circus life.
He and his whole troupe family will even don costumes best suited for certain filters.
Sometimes ropes in Ginnojo... and by sometimes, I mean enough for everyone to start wondering if the stoic man is part of the act.
To be fair, he randomly hugs people and ranks them here.
You, of course, were number 1.
Now, if only he didn’t use the bloody song to announce it but you forgive him.
Maybe even risks revealing his ayakashi form before deleting the message to you.
Loves making international fans and learning various languages through each post, sort of like flashcards but animated and more fun!
And with 1200 followers, he might become a polyglot like Koga.
Shizuki
Everyone bans him from creating one.
Because they know the power of his roasts is too great.
Little do they know he goes undercover.
Underground.
And under their noses.
That’s right. His rant town on... MySpace.
Unapologetically uses a good chunk of his salary from serving the House of Yuri just to get nifty themes that help with the whole burning process.
Look, there’s a reason he and Oji are friends.
This is why.
Their taste in women seems fine but we really have got to do something about their affinity towards DEAD PLACES.
To be fair, he made the whole thing drunk but that doesn’t mean he should maintain it SOBER.
He just feels that it is a waste of space if he doesn’t utilize it.
And it also becomes kind of cathartic. From the intrusive hugs to his master and Sir Gaku irking each other to no end, he needs it.
Zero followers... but only because it’s super private.
It becomes 1 the moment you jokingly create an account.
#ayakashi romance reborn#ayakashi rr#ayakashi aoi#Ayakashi: Romance Reborn#AyakashiRR#ayakashi ginnojo#ayakashi kuro#arr kuro#kuya#gaku#ayakashi kuya#kuro#arr kuya#kuya the tengu#ayakashi koga#koga kitamikado#arr koga#toichiro yuri#arr toichiro#ayakashi toichiro#toichiro the kitsune#arr shizuki#shizuki#ayakashi shizuki#arr aoi#aoi#ginnojo#ayakashi oji#arr ginnojo#Oji
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— PEER INTO MY MUSE’S MEMORIES
❤️- A happy memory that makes them smile
💙- A sad memory that makes them cry
💛- A memory that makes them feel angry
💚- A memory that makes them feel guilty
💜- A memory about one of their loved ones, happy or sad
💔- A memory that leaves them feeling lonely
❣- A memory that leaves them laughing
featuring @evcravens & @dukemassetti
💓- A memory about their friends
featuring @julianaxcapulet & @stlapin
💗- A memory about a good deed they did
💖- A memory that made them feel special
💝- A memory that made them feel loved
💘- A memory that gets their heart pounding
featuring @dukemassetti
❤️- A happy memory that makes them smile
the sun clinging to her lashes. a dirt path surrounded by blossoms. a woman’s hand in hers. she is not maeve’s mother, but she is the closest thing maeve has. signora fiore guides maeve through her secret garden. all these years, maeve thought it was only a backyard. she did not expect to find flowers blooming from the earth everywhere. she learns the name of each bud and helps signora fiore take care of them all. when she asks if she can sleep in the garden, signora fiore laughs and says maybe one day. before she runs home, signora fiore gives her a single sunflower. to bring joy to your home, she tells maeve. maeve tucks it under her pillow.
💙- A sad memory that makes them cry
amalia is her first girlfriend — or at least, the first thing to come close to being a girlfriend. the two hold hands on their way to school and come close to kissing once in awhile, until maeve begins giggling or her ears turn bright red with embarrassment. one night, amalia doesn’t call, but maeve doesn’t mind; she’s been busy with bunny, making flower crowns and finding the sweetest treat in the city. in the morning, she waits for amalia in front of their usual spot to walk to school together; amalia doesn’t show. at school, maeve goes to school to find amalia kissing another girl, who she does not recognize. when confronted, amalia says plainly: “you love without being asked, and that’s why it’s hard to want you. you’re too easy, maeve. it’s just not fun.”
💛- A memory that makes them feel angry
when she asks her papa why he became a capulet, he tells her that it’s for her mamma. to avenge her. to make the montagues pay. when maeve tells him, with anger and love joined in her voice, of the rot it has birthed inside of him and their hometown, he laughs. “you are a child. what do you know? the capulets would eat you alive and spit your bones out after. you will never understand.” she promises him then, that she will prove him wrong.
💚- A memory that makes them feel guilty
what is stronger: a full heart or an empty stomach? maeve learns the answer when a neighbor invites her inside after seeing her wandering around alone in the neighborhood. she lost her house keys, and she’s waiting for her papa to come home and let her in. sitting at her neighbor’s dining room table, maeve is supposed to do her homework but it’s boring. she hates numbers. as she stares at her multiplication tables, her stomach yowls with anger and need. the neighbor is taking a nap. with frequent glances towards the bedroom door, maeve opens the fridge and yelps softly.
so many sweets! and fruit! and juice! what starts off as just one strawberry turns into the whole carton. one piece of a cupcake turns into three. by the end of the afternoon, maeve has demolished every sweet thing in her neighbor’s fridge. the neighbor doesn’t realize as she waves goodbye from her doorstep, and maeve blushes bright red when she tells her papa she doesn’t want dinner. she avoids walking on that part of town for years after.
💜- A memory about one of their loved ones, happy or sad
when her papa comes to her bedroom in the middle of the night, he thinks she’s asleep. maeve pretends she is, but she smiles when he presses a kiss to her temple. she can tell he’s been drinking; the stench sticks to him like putty or glue. “stella mia, my sweet girl,” he tells her. then he hugs her so tight that only a drunk man would believe it wouldn’t wake a little girl. in the dark, maeve smiles and holds the moment close. it’s when he calls her stella mia that she hears what he can’t bring himself to ever say: i love you.
💔- A memory that leaves them feeling lonely
her papa is loud when he comes home. he curses loudly and slurs so much that she’s not sure she completely understands him. she peeks out of her bedroom door, and just barely catches the sight of him grabbing a vase of violets and throwing it to the ground. maeve cries out, a mewling kitten in sudden agony. her papa doesn’t hear over the sound of his yelling, so she waits until he’s gone into his room to start picking up the ceramic pieces. she does not cry, though she can’t help but sniffle. in the morning, he doesn’t remember much and apologizes for the mess after maeve asks a neighbor to come help. he doesn’t notice that the violets are nowhere to be found, saved in a small box of the other flowers her papa killed.
❣- A memory that leaves them laughing
everett and orion are arguing again, and maeve munches on popcorn as she watches. literally — she just bought some popcorn from the grocery store on her way to everett’s home and they’re too busy fighting to notice her snacking. but when orion starts imitating everett, she has to cut in. “that’s not what everett sounds like!” uncurling from her spot on the couch, maeve stands with her spine so erect that she’s almost bending backwards. “listen here young man, you are not to use that foul, young-people language around me ever again!” she says sternly, wagging her finger at orion for emphasis.
it spirals from there. the look on everett’s face — so offended and horrified at the behavior of the soldier who just joined his borgata a few days prior — makes her and orion laugh until they’re crying. then he joins in on the fun, mimicking orion. when it’s clear he’s too kind to mock maeve, orion decides to do so instead. suddenly, the three of them are taking turns and doubling over, breathless with laughter.
she wishes she had taken a picture of that moment, when they went from a team to a family.
💕- A memory about their significant other
N/A
💞- A memory about their children
N/A
💓- A memory about their friends
juliana, bunny and maeve are having a picnic. the clouds drift lazily along in the sky, and juliana points out the interesting shapes they make in the sky. bunny dips a chocolate-covered strawberry onto her tongue. maeve sits with her back against the tree that gives them shade, watching them both without a word. her heart swells with love for her friends. the girls who have known her her entire life, the girls who have come to define all that maeve is. when bunny asks what maeve is thinking about, she answers honestly: “how much i love you both.” with a private glance between the two of them, juliana and bunny creep closer until finally, they tackle maeve to the ground and begin tickling her until she’s gasping and begging for a break.
“serves you right for being cute,” juliana says.
“it’s what you deserve,” bunny agrees.
then it’s maeve’s turn to tackle them with a sweeping hug, stretching her arms as far as they’ll go. “i don’t care, i’d do it again.”
“now you’re really asking for it,” bunny smiles with a wicked gleam in her eye. and so the cycle repeats. it’s the perfect afternoon.
💗- A memory about a good deed they did
on the anniversary of her mother’s death, maeve spends her entire paycheck on flowers — whatever is in season and fully bloomed. she spends the rest of the day passing them out to children. boys and girls who she sees without a parent. whether it’s because their guardians have passed or are just not there at that exact moment, maeve spends her entire afternoon passing out small gifts. she hopes it makes them happy. she knows it would have made her happy when she was their age.
💖- A memory that made them feel special
this entire thread okay
💝- A memory that made them feel loved
it’s her sixteenth birthday, and her papa remembered. he takes the day off work (even capulet work, which she finds out later). he makes breakfast, simple but still homemade. he tries to make a cake for her, although she ends up finding out and babysitting him through the entire process. he watches her favorite movies with her, goes shopping at the flea market with her. he listens to her stories and even shares a few of his own: what it was like growing up, how he met her mother, how her mother cried and cried when she found out she was pregnant. at the end of the day, she kisses him on the cheek as she says goodnight and he pulls her close for the rare hug. “you are the best thing in my life, stella mia.” he doesn’t say i love you, but he doesn’t have to.
“i love you too, papa. more than life.”
it’s her best birthday yet.
💘- A memory that gets their heart pounding
it’s a deal gone wrong, and there are four men closing in on her and orion.
she pulls out her knife, but her hand is shaking; she’s never used it against anything but a practice dummy before.
she ends up using hand-to-hand combat more often, using only the hilt of the blade against her opponents. she and orion manage to knock them unconscious by themselves, and she’s breathing hard with her heart almost ripping out of her throat every time it beats.
“nice, i almost thought — hey, hey, what are you doing!”
one by one, orion methodically slits their throats with a knife of his own. “just look away. or close your eyes.”
“but i—”
“miranda.” his voice is a warning.
“okay. fine.” she closes her eyes. she doesn’t forget what orion is doing, but it does help her heart calm down and her breathing to return to normal. she decides, then, that if orion knows her well enough to give her sound advice, she’ll trust him. even if he’s killing someone as she’s deciding that she likes him, after all.
#alcoholism tw#ask meme (answered)#I KNOW THE SPECIAL ONE IS A COP OUT i couldn't think of anyTHING#i want to tell you everything; i want you to love me for it (everett)#i kissed each bullet; simply because i loved the person who was holding the gun (orion)#what am i if not yours (juliana)#love isn't soft like those poets say; love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close (bunny)
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BTS Reaction » When you meet them for the first time.
Authors note » Aaah this is my first reaction ever (it was not requested but my request are open!) and i’m kinda new to the fandom and I am trying something new! (Pls give me feedback or something) Just wanna let you know english is not my first language so I’m sorry for grammar mistakes or something! Please let me know what you think? Credit goes to the rightful gif owners :)
Kim Seokjin » Your parents are coming over for dinner last minute so you are stressing out because today normally was your day to eat take out so hadn’t done any groceries and your fridge was empty. So now you have to go grocery shopping but you still don’t know what you want to cook for your parents. You hoped walking in the store would give you some ideas. You grab your keys from the kitchen counter and walk to the store. After a while you decide you are going to cook spaghetti, it was easy and delicious. So now you are walking around the store trying to find the right ingredients. You are so focused on finding the right ingredients you don’t notice the tall stranger standing in the same aisle, doing the exact same thing. You bite your lip while reading something on the back of the tomato sauce package you are holding. You feel something or someone bump into you. You let out a shriek and you drop the tomato sauce package on the ground. The tomato sauce package pops open and there is sauce everywhere “Oh god I-I’m so sorry” you hear a voice apologize. You look in the direction where the voice came from. You make eye contact with the most beautiful man you have ever seen and for a minute you forget how to talk, you realize you’re staring at the man and you start to blush “uhm it’s okay, I’m fine” you smile softly at the man standing in front of you. You realize the sauce is everywhere “oh shoot, look at the mess I made” you mumble shy. The man laughs “well I kind of helped you make that mess didn’t I? Again I am so sorry” he apologizes again “it’s fine” you reassure him with a soft smile “But I probably should find someone and tell them about the mess we made” you laugh “You probably should, but maybe I should join you? Because after all i helped you create this mess ” he smiles cheekily “Uh yeah, sure...” you wait for him to tell you his name “I’m Seokjin” he introduces himself, a beautiful name for a beautiful man “I’m y/n, nice to meet you” you smile. After telling a staffmember about the mess you two made, Seokjin helped you find the right ingredients for the spaghetti, he even gave you some tips on how to make the spaghetti even more delicious.
Min Yoongi » It’s two am, you just finished studying for your midterms. You totally lost track of time while studying and you forgot to eat so you were hungry for some good food, luckily the store near campus is open 24 hrs a day. You walk into the store causing a bell to ring. The man sitting behind the counter looks up from his phone and frowns, he probably isn’t used to people shopping this late. You smile sofly to the man and you make your way to the right aisle. Yoongi needed the money, that’s why he took this stupid boring job, he only worked night shifts. He didn’t mind the night shifts to be honest because there were fewer people doing their groceries and that meant fewer social encounters. He frowned when he saw you walking in the store at this time. He studies your features, you look tired, your hair is in a messy bun and you were wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. But he still thought you looked beautiful. You noticted the boy staring at you and you start to blush, grabbing the things you need quickly. You walk to the counter to pay the stuff. “Rough evening, huh?” the man asks. You look up and you make eye contact with the man. You only realize now how beautiful the man in front of you is. “Uh... I- I’ve been studying for my midterms” you tell the man and he nods “must be stressing you out?” you only nod, being to tired to have a normal conversation. “I’m Yoongi” introduces the man himself “oh uhm my name is y/n” you say, still not breaking eye contact with Yoongi. He shows you the most adorable gummy smile you have ever seen and you can’t help but smile back at him. “I get off in a few hours, do you maybe wanna grab a cup of coffee after my shift ends?” He asks and you nod “I’d like that”
Jung Hoseok » Today was another stressful day at work, your boss keeps yelling at you and pointing out all the things you are doing wrong and it was making you feel nauseous and you were one the verge of crying so you were in desperate need of a break. So when your boss told you to get her a coffee, from the coffee shop she loved so much, you obliged happily. A sigh of relief leaves your lips when you walk out of the building. You start walking towards the coffee shop thinking about how your boss was behaving towards you, you don’t really see what you are doing wrong, you do everything she ask from you and still it’s not enough. You reach the coffee shop and you wait in line to make your order. You are focused on your phone when a loud laugh fills your ears, you look around the shop to see where the sound comes from. You focus on a group of young men sitting in the back of the coffee shop, one man draws your attention, he is smiling bright and he actually looks like a ray of sunshine. You didn’t notice you were staring at the man until you make eye contact, you quickly look away from him and focus back on your phone. You don’t look up from your phone until you order the coffee for your boss. After ordering the coffee you wait patiently, still focusing on your phone. Your name is called and you walk up to the counter to pick up your order. When you turn around to go back to work you bump into someone and you spill all the hot coffee on the ground. A small scream leaves your mouth and you look at the mess on the ground “Oh god, I am so so sorry! Are you okay? Here let me help you” you look up to see the boy you made eye contact with earlier. The boy keeps rambling and apologizing and you just look at him. Tears are forming in your eyes and as soon as he notices he feels even more guilty “oh god please don’t cry” he begs “it’s not your fault, I’m just having a really bad day” you mumble. He whipes your tears away “I’m sorry to hear that, let me make it up to you and buy you a new coffee” he offers and you smile “thank you, that is very sweet of you” you smile weakly “don’t worry about it, it’s the least I can do for you” he smiles brightly “you have a cute smile” you didn’t even realize the words leaving your mouth “oh god I am sorry” you apologize ashamed “well...” “y/n” you say “well y/n I think you look really cute” you blush smiling at the man “I’m Hoseok but you can call me Hobi” he introduces himself with a wink.
Kim Namjoon » You were in desperate need of a new book to read. All the books you owned were old and most of them you already read twice or more. You walk in to your local bookstore, you greet the woman behind the counter, she just smiles at you. You walk to the aisle where they keep the crime/thriller books, your favourite genre. You notice a tall man standing in the same aisle but you don’t really pay much attention to him. You are focused on reading the back of a book that seems interesting when you hear a loud noise followed by a curse. You look to your right to see what happened. One of the bookshelves broke down and all the books that were standing on that shelf fell down. The man looks embarrassed as he starts picking up the books that lay on the floor, you decide to help the man. You kneel beside the man and you start picking up different books “thank you” says the handsome stranger, you just smile at him. You want to pick up the last book but so does the man, so instead of the book you touch his fingers, he quickly moves his hand away and you pick up the last remaining book. You get up again but so does the man, causing your heads to bump into each other and a painful growl leaves your mouth. “Oh god I am so sorry” he apologizes quickly “it’s okay, I’m fine. Are you okay?” You ask the man. He nods “I am, I just get so clumsy sometimes” he explains with a shy smile “Yeah I noticed” you giggle. “I’m y/n” you introduce yourself “I’m Namjoon” he smiles. “Maybe I could buy you dinner? To apologize for my clumsy behaviour” he ask nervously. “I told you I’m fine, but how can I say no to you buying me dinner” you say cheekily and Namjoon laughs.
Park Jimin » It is two o’clock in the morning and you are still practicing your dance choreography. You are getting more and more frustrated by the second. There is this particular dance move and you just couldn’t get the hang of it. It’s making you want to cry. After many attempts and many failures you decide you need to take a break. You lay down on the ground and a frustrated sigh leaves your mouth and you close your eyes for just a few seconds. A few seconds turn into fifteen minutes but a loud noise wakes you up, you look around but you there is no one here. You stand up again and you start practicing again. You are so focused on getting the choreography right you don’t even notice the tears coming out of your eyes. After your fifth attempt and also your fifth failure you just let out a loud scream and you start crying. You look in the big mirror in front of you and you stop crying when you notice someone standing in the doorway, you quickly turn around and he smiles at you. “Please leave me alone” you mumble to the stranger “I heard you scream and I just wanted to check if you are okay” he tells you shyly “well I’m fucking great, can’t you see?” You snap at him, you start dancing again hoping that the man takes a hint and leaves but he doesn’t and it makes you even more frustrated. You make a mistake but this time you trip over your own feet and you fall to the ground. The man that was standing in the doorway was now sitting beside you “Oh god, are you okay?” He asks worried “no, I am not okay” you cry. The man kind of looks uncomfortable and he really doesn’t know what to do so he just pats your back. “You dont have to comfort me” you mumble wiping away your own tears. “I’m sorry for being rude, I’m just really stressed because this one part of the choreography is really hard and I just can’t get the hang of it and it’s so frustrating. I’ve been practicing all day” you explain to him “you don’t have to apologize, I totally understand how frustrating it must be” he smiles “how would you know?” You ask with a frown “I’m also a dancer, why don’t you show me the choreography and maybe I can help you?” He offers with a soft smile which makes you blush “I’d like that” “I’m jimin by the way” he introduces himself “my name is y/n” you tell Jimin. You show Jimin the dance and he actually has some very useful tips that really help you master the dance. It’s morning when you two are finally done and you both exchange phone numbers because you quite enjoyed his company.
Kim Taehyung » You were enjoying yourself with some beautiful art in a local museum near your house. It was you day of and you were feeling really stressed because of work and just looking at art made you feel relaxed. You stand in front of your favourite piece just taking every detail in. You decide to sit down and enjoy the painting. You notice someone sitting down next to you. You don’t bother looking up because you are to focused on the painting in front of you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” A husky voice ask, you look up and you look in the direction where the voice came from, it’s the person sitting next to you. “yes it is, it’s my favourite painting in this museum actually” you tell the stranger. “It makes me feel relaxed, I can look at it for ages and every time i look at the painting I discover a new detail, pretty amazing to be honest” you explain smiling at the man, he nods in agreement. “Do you have a favourite painter?” He ask curiously and you nod “I really like Monet but Van Gogh is also pretty good” “I totally agree, so you’re a pretty big fan of art?” He asks “yes but not just paintings, I like all kinds of art, music, poetry and photography” you tell him shyly noticing how beautiful the man sitting next to you actually is. He just looks like a piece of art, and you can’t stop staring at him. Luckily he doesn’t notice it because he is looking at the painting but you think the man next to you is way more interesting than that painting hanging on the wall. “You shouldn’t be staring that much it’s rude” the man smiles cheekily and you feel your cheeks turn red “I-I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself” you blush “it’s okay, I’ve been staring at you for like ten minutes before I had the courage to sit next to you” he confesses. “Oh really?” You ask raising an eyebrow “my name is y/n” “nice to meet you y/n, my name is Taehyung” he introduces himself with a boxy smile, the most beautiful smile you have ever seen and it makes you want to squeeze his cheeks. “Is it okay if I take you out for some coffee, or something?” He ask nervously “I’d love that” you smile
Jeon Jungkook » You were bored so you decided you might as well log back into your old gaming account, due your busy work schedule you barely had time to game and you kind of missed it. You had finished all your work so you had finally time to pick up where you left. You start up Overwatch, getting pretty excited to start playing again. Once the game is loaded you start gaming and it feels like you never left. After the game is finished you get an invite from someone to play again, you frown but accept. Obviously you keep beating his ass and your not even sorry, you are enjoying this way to much. After a few hours you decide it’s been enough, you’re about to close the game when you receive a direct message from the person who keeps inviting you to play again. To curious to wait, you open the message and read it. “Hey there, you are really good! Do you might wanna game while talking over headset? If you don’t mind of course :)” you reply that you don’t mind. You search for your headset and you connect it with your computer. Your connection is really crappy and it takes a while but after a few minutes you hear a manly voice coming through your headset. “Hey there” you greet the man. It stays quiet for a while, you frown for a second but you keep your attention focused on the game. “Hello? Are you still there?” You ask a bit annoyed “U-Uh yes I’m still here” the man replies softly. “Are you alright?” You ask the man. “Yes I am, I just didn’t realize you were a girl” you roll your eyes “Is that a problem for you?” “No! It’s not” he yells “I-I was just debating with myself whether i’m disappointed that i got by ass kicked by a girl or if I’m really turned on because of how good you are” you roll your eyes but you can’t help but giggle “well I see both options as an compliment, so thank you. And I really hope you’re not an old pervert” you smile. “No I’m not old, and I’m Jungkook by the way” “I’m Y/n” you introduce yourself “well Jungkook get ready to get your ass kicked again” you giggle “I was going to be soft on you, but now get ready to get your ass kicked” he threatens “pffft, I’ve been kicking your ass almost every game, are you sure you’re not gonna cry?” You tease him. After beating him in many more games, you still keep in touch and after a while you both decided it’s time you two meet in real life, and you couldn’t be more nervous because you had no idea what he looked like, you only know him by his voice. You decided to meet up in a local coffee shop. So now fifteen minutes early you are waiting for him. After a while you see someone walking into the coffee shop, he looks nervous and he keeps looking around, after a while you make eye contact and you smile, his eyes grow wide and you blush. He slowly walks towards you. “Y/n?” He asks when he stops in front of you, you can only nod because you are captivated by his beauty, you can’t stop staring at him. “It’s really nice to meet you” he smiles shyly. You nod and stand up to give him a hug. “It really is” you agree with a big smile.
#bts#bts reactions#bts scenarios#bts texts#jin#kim seokjin#seokjin#BTS jin#bts seokjin#yoongi#min yoongi#bts yoongi#BTS suga#suga#bts jhope#jung hoseok#bts hosoek#bts hobi#kim namjoon#namjoon#bts kim namjoon#bts namjoon#bts rm#park jimin#jimin#bts jimin#bts park jimin#kim taehyung#bts v#bts taehyung
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MSA shorts (Lewis and Arthur)
Summary: Arthur gets into trouble. Lewis gets him out again. (Lewis and Arthur friendship piece)
Context: So this is a discarded scene from the ‘msa time travel idea.’ It’s set before canon and was originally going to be a flashback. You don’t have to read the ‘ msa time travel idea’ to enjoy it.
...
Arthur immediately notices the motorbike when it pulls off the highway, engine revving, ties squeaking across the pavement. It slides right into the only vacant spot outside Pepper's Paradiso, taking up all the space, leaving no room for additional vehicles.
Though the muscle-bike is impressive, heavy, built for long distance travel, it’s not that which draws his interest. As the bike's leather-clad rider kills the excessively loud engine, Arthur’s attention is pulled to an incongruent rattle, signalling a loose bolt or screw. Not immediately noticeable, drowned out by other motor noises, Arthur strains to place the potential fault. He squints up at the engine, scanning the bike's frame. He can’t tell from where he’s sitting, but the impressive array of exhaust piping seams off.
The staring earns him a harsh glare from the bike’s owner who stalks past. Arthur averts his gaze down to the pavement, unwilling to provoke someone who’s either in a bad mood or generally spoiling for a fight. A familiar bell chime, the diner doors open, and the man disappears inside. Casually, Arthur stands, pauses for a beat, then meanders away from the entry in the direction of the bike.
He is in the middle of waiting for Lewis to finish his shift. It’s taking longer than usual, the dinner seeing an abnormal increase in customers for this time of day. Of course, Lewis has to hang back and help his parents deal with the sudden rush. It has left Arthur with little to do but loiter in the carpark, watching patrons come and go. Despite his friend’s insistence that he take a table inside, Arthur’s not a fan of crowds or noise and doesn’t want to occupy any space or attention when they’re so busy. Thus, outside, sitting on the curb, fiddling with his phone, is where Arthur’s been.
The bike is the first exciting thing to happen in the last thirty minutes. Nonchalantly, Arthur glances over his shoulder, but there is no sign of Lewis or the bike’s owner. He really should leave this alone, that leather-guy looks like a person he doesn't want to piss off. Arthur circles the bike, ignoring his better judgment. He’ll make this quick. After he confirms his suspicions, he’ll resume his patient sitting.
The bike is doubly impressive up close.
One of the band-clamps, connecting the exhaust piping to the collector, is loose. Arthur eyes it critically, crouching down to get a proper view. Shoddy maintenance work, he concludes quickly. Someone has obviously taken the whole bike apart, replaced several pieces, then rushed putting it back together. The error, not something immediately noticeable, will inevitably screw things up in the long term. It’s a shame because the bike is really nice. He stands and takes a step back. Okay. Suspicion confirmed. Time to bug out and mind his own business.
Quickly, Arthur powerwalks over to his van on the opposite side of the parking lot, pulls out his toolbox, snatches the correct wrench and powerwalks back, crouching back down. If he quickly tightens that bolt there and moves this a bit here, it’ll shore-up the pipe’s integrity and prevent a major failure.
“Oi. What the fuck are you doing.”
Arthur doesn’t even manage to tighten the first bolt. A hand grabs the back of his vest and yanks him away hard. He goes sprawling across the concrete, getting his arms under him, so he narrowly avoids hitting his head. On his back, Arthur squints up at a bulky, leather wearing, very angry, bike owner.
Rattled from hitting the ground, Arthur blurts, “Nothing!” An angry scowl is his unfavourable response.
“I mean,” He rushes to clarify, holding up his incriminating wrench, “I’m obviously doing something, but it’s nothing bad. I swear. “
“Sure kid,” Knuckles are cracked, “and I’m a priest spreading the good word.”
Damnit, why couldn’t he have just left well enough alone? Quick, talk fast, explain the situation.
“The exhaust pipe is super screwy. Whoever put it together is an idiot, they obviously don’t know what they are doing…ah…”
“What did you say…” The man steps over him, casting a threatening shadow. Okay. That was the wrong thing to say. The guy is probably friends with the mechanic or is the mechanic. Arthur is very aware of how his downed position places him in a precarious spot. Regret. He regrets everything!
Before the taller man can take a proper swing a foreign hand flashes out from behind, catching his arm.
“Is there a problem?” Lewis steps around into view, still dressed in his chef uniform, shooting Arthur a puzzled glance. Arthur shrugs helplessly, having no excuse for the current situation.
“Fuck off, this isn’t none of your business,” The leather-guy continues to scowl at Arthur, yanking at the grip.
“I work for this diner. And that’s a friend of mine,” Lewis steps forward, so he’s hovering near Arthur’s head. Slowly, he releases the other’s arm. The leather-wearing bike owner shifts in response, giving Lewis a critical once over. Unlike Arthur, who is wiry, athletic and generally unthreatening, Lewis is tall, heavy-set, and very intimidating when he wants to be. Usually, that’s enough to deter a fight, and deterring is important because Lewis hates physical confrontation.
There are a tense few moments while leather-guy considers Lewis like he’s weighing up the pros and cons of starting a brawl right then and there. Luckily, the guy’s not a complete nut-job and, after some inaudible grumbling, steps away.
“Little punk insulted my baby,” Is groused as the guy stomps back towards his bike, dismissing both him and Lewis.
“Ah, your exhaust pipe is loose. I was trying to fix it,” Arthur calls after him, sitting upright now he’s not in danger of being punched. Lewis, who is in the process of helping Arthur up, gives him a withering look.
The leather guy turns slowly, growling, “Like I believe that shit.”
“Arthur’s a mechanic,” Lewis explains diplomatically, pushing Arthur behind him and out of sight, “A good mechanic. If he says there is something wrong with your engine, then there probably is.”
A disbelieving grunt, but the other man doesn’t come back towards them, “Whatever kid.”
The leather-guy mounts his bike, calling, “A word of advice. Don’t start fights when ya can’t follow through.” The engine roars and both rider and bike tear out the car park and onto the highway. A second later and they are gone. Lewis breaths out a sigh and turns to give Arthur an exasperated frown. He is tense, not entirely happy.
“What was that about?”
Arthur grimaces, feeling a bit guilty for dragging Lewis into a potentially dangerous situation, “Yeah. Okay. So that wasn’t my brightest moment, but there really was something wrong with the exhaust pipe.”
“And what. You just decided to fix it without informing the possessive owner?” Lewis gestures at the wrench he’s still holding. Now the adrenaline is fading, Lewis is relaxing, sounding a mix of amused and exasperated.
“It was a nice bike,” Arthur defends, “and I thought he would be in the diner for longer.”
Lewis shakes his head, “Nope. Only here for the restrooms. Saw him leave one as I was finishing.”
“I sort of figured,” Arthur mutters, examining the grazes running up both his elbows. Blood is pooling just under displaced skin. Probably a result of hitting the pavement. Lewis watches, wincing in sympathy.
“Do you want…”
“I’ve got gauze in the van,” Arthur anticipates the question, “Ugh. Some people have zero chill. What do you think? A gang member or something.”
“Not sure. He’s staying in the Tempo Motor Inn. So, we at least we know where to avoid for a while.”
Arthur pauses his inspection, glancing at Lewis, a question on his lips.
“The perks of grocery shopping multiple times a week. Mrs Burton mentioned seeing an ‘unpleasant man in leather around the motel.’ How many men in leather can there be?” Lewis elaborates, walking over to pick up his bag, which lying discarded near the diner’s entrance.
“Lots. If it’s a gang.” Arthur jokes, adding, “And Vivi says there are no benefits to gossiping.”
Lewis laughs, finally losing the last vestiges of tension, his shoulders relaxing. He slings his bag over a shoulder. Likewise, Arthur also lets himself relax, thankful his dumb idea hadn’t caused irreparable harm. They both start walking towards his van. Vivi’s still needs to be picked up. Arthur has already texted her, but he doesn’t want her to wait any longer than necessary. While Arthur pulls out his first aid kit, Lewis pulls off his work clothes, messing around with his hair till it sits right.
“At least it’ll make an interesting story,” Arthur remarks, wincing as he applies disinfectant to the injury. Lewis takes the driver’s seat, Arthur being preoccupied. Not long after they hit the town proper, quickly navigating the sparse streets. Vivi is easily spotted, a blue blob, sitting on the steps outside her workplace, eyes glued to a thick book. Lewis sounds the horn to get her attention, causing her to glance up, frown quickly turning to a grin.
NOTE: Hey look I wrote something that’s not angsty
#MSA#mystery skulls animated#fanfiction#fanfic#arthur kingsmen#Lewis pepper#friendship#outtakes#pre-canon#coarse language
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I Really Should Just Invest In Naps + TMI: HEALTH STUFF (x-posted DW/PF)
I'm so tired. I really need to think of a better way of starting these beyond, "hi hello. i am tired. ONCE A FUCKING GAIN."
My parents came Thursday evening to help my brother move on Friday. He's moving apartments and i'm lowkey jealous because he has
TWO ROOMS!!!
A REAL BATHROOM!!
a fucking washer and dryer in unit
all utilities covered except for internet
for fucking 950/month. T___T
The only con is that he's farther from things compared to his, now, prior apartment. Also it's carpeted which is a downside for me (and probably him). But ughhhhh.
But he did most of the movie on his own before they showed up on Friday? So they didn't have a lot left to move.
Mama brought me pillows?? Which are Nice and Lovely and I like the Color but it was also just weird to go downstairs to let them in and have the exchange of
Me: SALAAM MOM
Mother: Salaam, I have your pillows. *thrusts garbage bag filled with pillows at moi*
Me:*blinks* (thinking....when....did I....ask....for pillows??? In retrospect, it was probably one of those things I like claimed when grandma posted stuff to the family WhatsApp group?? And I probably?? Forgot???) Mother: *squints* you just woke up didn't you. Me, who got dressed in like 3 minutes immediately after she called saying they were here: *takes pillows* =__= (I had Not Just Woken Up. I had woken up and then rolled over. VAST DIFFERENCE!! ....there is no difference.) (In my defense, my period has literally Just Started and I'm like Not Happy By This. T_T) They ask if I want to come to my brother's place to move stuff and I'm like, "i'll go on the second round." (also known as attempt to clean my apartment, haahhahaha) I help with the second round of stuff and we all pile into the mini-van to go my brother's place and it's NICE and I am Not Envious but I'm Not Not Envious. =___=
He has Actual Windows. T__T (my bedroom does not. my apartment...has A Lot of Flaws but It's Walking Distance From Many Things So I'm Paying for Convenience) (is this my current mantra? MAYBE.) Anyway, afterwards we go to Costco because like That Is What I Care About. And we Costco'd up. And had minor rage that a pack of 3, clinical strength "lady" deodorants were 12.99 vs 10.99 for 5 pack of "men" clinical deodorant. My brother concurred and has like also read up on the "pink tax" before and like if he ends up marrying a lady, I'M JUST LIKE??? CONGRATS?? WE HAVE TRAINED SOME SEMBLANCE OF A WOKE BLACK MALE. PLEASE DIRECT PRAISE TO MY MOTHER AND MY SISTERS. (no really, he can cook, clean, grocery shop, basically function as a decent human being and like LISTENS WHEN WOMEN TALK IN A THOUGHTFUL MANNER. He also is willing to openly weep during movies, so like congrats.) Anyway, then we went to Sprouts?? Which is like the Large Hippie Grocery Store in Durham and I uhhhh had never been there properly and now I understand why little brother sometimes grocery shops there. There were So Many Types of Almond Milk I Was In Heaven. (update: have discovered that Sprouts....instacarts to my area......as does Sur la Table. This Is Dangerous Information.) Then we went to the hardware store to acquire somethings for little bro's apartment and then we popped back to my place and my mother was like LET ME HELP YOU WITH THINGS. Me, aware my apartment is still disastrous: "That's....not....necessary." Narrator: The mother was undeterred. She did not have a conniption but she did go into Deep Maternal Worry Mode with Bonus Overbearing and Meddling Steamrolling. Internal Me: She means well. She means well. She feels guilty that she's not Around More Often Even Though I Made The Choice To Move Down South. Mother: are you okay? I know you have the anxiety and depression but has anything else happened?? You know?? You'd feel better if this place was cleaner. Me: *pained nods* Mother: Has anything else happened that you haven't told us??? I know you have the health things but anything else? Me: ...no??? (Beyond health and like my inability to like sleep properly, nothing else has happened but stress of my grad life. =_=_ Mother: LETS TAKE JUST 5 MINUTES AND TIDY THINGS UP A LITTLE
Me, who's hungry and still Has Not Eaten In Spite of It Being 5pm: mother Mother, with broom and dustpan and trashbag: COME ALONG. Internal Me: She means Well. At Least She Is Here And Alive. Appreciate The Time You Have With Her. She Means Well. *grits teeth* We clean. WE ALMOST THROW AWAY ONE OF MY ROTHYS BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T LOOK INSIDE BOXES BEFORE THROW SHIT OUT!!! And then we go to the restaurant for dinner....where the kitchen messes up my little brother's order and has chapati on the plate and he has a severe wheat allergy. So he takes Benadryl and my mother....goes into....deep worry mode Again. SHOULD WE LEAVE HIM AT HIS APARTMENT BY HIMSELF???? SHOULD WE TAKE HIM TO THEIR HOTEL??
my mother, once again, making plans without idk ASKING EITHER PARTY INVOLVED: MNEME, YOU SHOULD STAY AT HIS PLACE OVERNIGHT!! HE HAS A WASHER AND DRYER SO YOU CAN DO YOUR LAUNDRY THERE FOR FREE!!! me, a known cheap but is fucking exhausted and trying desperately to Not Snap At My Mother Because That Is Not Respectful But Also Looking Forward to Flopping on Her Fucking Couch and Maybe Even Getting A Waterbottle for my tummy: ....yes mother. =___= My dad upon seeing my mother and I exiting the apartment complex with my laundry: ???? Me, wordlessly pleading for salvation: o__o My mother, once we get to my brother's apartment: ....you know I probably should have asked before making this plan... My brother and I having Just Accepted Our Fate: *crickets* I give my brother the air mattress to blow up until he gets a Real Bed, (the place came unfurnished--which is the other reason I haven't moved because i'd need to like Get Furniture And At This Stage of My PhD, It's Just Not Worth It--so he has No Furniture At All). I sleep on the floor instead of telling my brother to just scoot over and let me ALSO SLEEP on the mattress which is a Queen-sized mattress. Nor does it occur to him to offer it to me. *stares into the void at my back* (In her defense, she did message us apologizing and I know she wasn't doing it maliciously and she's over zealous at times because she feels bad that like I'm a few hundred miles away. Alone. By myself. Single and thus don't have like anyone who's there for emotional support which like does suck but also I AM DOING... Not Amazing But Not As Bad As Undergrad? So...yeah.) I do all my laundry except for like One set that I do in the morning because my father is slow as molasses for Anything and I Know That While My Mother Wants To Leave Early they will not be here early and I have accepted this reality. Mother: WE'RE GOING TO BE THERE By 7:30 AT THE LATEST Narrator: They arrived around 10ish. We still managed to get to the farmers markets though? WHICH IS WHAT I WANTED HER TO EXPERIENCE. NC may not have Many Good Things but The Farmer Markets are So So Nice?? And big??? I have also realized if you wear a shirt that says "Ask me, I'm a scientist!" Shockingly, people read it and like ASK. Me, who slept in this shirt and threw a cardigan on because I was Too Lazy To Put On A Real Adult Shirt: ????? ! oooohhhhh... i do science. yes. yes, i do. Also got my brother to change his address because the voter registration folks were there and like IT'S EASIER TO DO IT THERE then like Figure Out Where To Go, so like We Did Our Civic Duty Today. *finger guns* Got some loaves of GF bread from the bread seller that sells Actual Edible GF bread. Sadly, they were out of raisin because it was 11am and like they open at 7am. T___T
Then we grabbed my dad, who went to the coffee shop....to work. It's been almost a full year since his open-heart surgery and he's back to being a Workaholic. =___=
Then we went to Lowes because he needed something and my parents FAILED TO COMMUNICATE PLANS and he was like...."oh I thought we were going to do it on the way back to MD??". Either way, I now have an adapter to make a three pronged plug into a two pronged one? So yay?
Then we took me, and my laundry, back to my place. My mother gave yet more instructions. I just smiled and nodded and reminded that she meant well.
And then ran back to the car because SHE WAS SO INSISTENT ON LIKE MOVING MY LAUNDRY BASKETS THAT SHE ALMOST LEFT HER MEDS BEHIND!! Me, ....this...is why....i said.... i could do it.......
But they are now back safely in MD, along with my brother because he has an orhto appointment. I was debating going back with them but I uh can't because I have a meeting with my PI on wednesday. And thus, I stay here. But I have a lot of article revisions and analyses to do so it sadly makes sense.
Maybe I'll try to go NY in Aug or mid-July?
IN FUN HEALTH THINGS, new game that I hate; "is this blood from my period or from my ass?" Spoiler: It's both~~~." Which now makes me regretting uh telling the gastro office that "no, I don't have symptoms so I don't think the steroid is necessary??" But in my defense, I DIDN'T HAVE SYMPTOMS ON WEDNESDAY WHEN THEY CALLED. Also they uh, usually are 3-6 months apart not 1.5 months...apart. So that was an unpleasant surprise which led to me pass out in bed when my parents left because ahhahahaha blood loss is v v exhausting and I forgot to pack my iron pills last night.
-____-
So, my mother is coming down again in July to take me to my sigmoidscopy. In which, they'll see things. Or they won't. I hope they see something? Anything? I don't want UC but I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW
- why i've been constantly inflamed since 2015?
- i know what hemorrhoidal bleeding looks like and uhhhhh i'm sorry but I shouldn't be dropping Actual Clots Out Of My Ass
*lies down*
i just want to not be tired and my intestines to not hate me as much. =_=
Okay, I am Going To Actually Sleep After I Knock Back Some Licorice Tea for my throat. (it's....super sore for some reason which is Not Great since I have D&D tomorrow most likely.)
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petals 009#: diaper trouble
#009 - When Daddy forgot the diapers
➽ Character/Genre/words: Min Yoongi x occasional OC | Parenthood!au, Fluff | 2,250 words
➽ a/n: based on my Baby Min headcanons
"Did you get everything? You're writing them down, aren't you?"
Yoongi hums as he writes down the list that his wife had just given him by the phone on one of the papers he had found on his desk. "I have them, I'm writing them down now. Is there anything else you need?"
"No, I don't think so," she answers after contemplating for a while. "Is it really okay though? I know you're busy today, I can just go out with the baby or leave the baby at my parents if it's going to take some time."
Yoongi listens to his wife speaking on the phone while he compiled the scattered notes which he had been working on in his studio, placing the scribbled down shopping list his wife had just given on the top right after he is done with it. "It's okay, really. I will pass by the supermarket on my way there anyway, so I can grab the things you need quickly before the meeting. I won't be finished until later, so as long as you're okay waiting for me to return then it's going to be fine."
He listens to his wife repeating the instructions, adding another reminder of, "Don't forget the diapers," before they bid goodbyes. Of course, also not forgetting to say "I love you" while blowing air kisses on the phone―which Yoongi returns secretly without caring that his cheeks might be blushing as he is doing it since he is perfectly hidden inside his studio anyway―right before ending the phone call. Someone comes knocking on the door just as he puts his phone away with his manager's voice calling for him to quickly make his leave. So Yoongi immediately puts the papers and notes into his bag in a rush and runs out to head out to his production meeting right away.
It's around an hour drive to where the meeting is held, and he doesn't forget to make the quick stop at the supermarket just like he promised. The only problem he is having right now is finding the shopping list.
"Where the fuck is it?" he curses while he rummages the contents of his bag, flipping through the papers and notes yet the shopping list seems nowhere to be found. He spends the next five minutes or more to try and find them, only giving up when he realizes that he would be wasting his time doing so, and he can't be late for the meeting. He tries to recall the list in his head when he steps out of the car, repeating everything by whispering them out to himself as he makes his way into the supermarket. The thought of calling his wife to ask her to repeat all the list again comes into mind as he walks through the alleyways, yet he also remembers that the reason why she couldn't go and do this herself is that both she and the baby are still recovering from being sick the past week.
"Nah, I got this," he tells himself when he is sure that he remembers everything, refusing to disturb his wife when he can tell that she is probably resting with the baby already, and starts on his way to find everything he needs.
He goes for the food supplies first, grabbing some oatmeals and cereals before heading to the daily care station. He takes his time grabbing some of the basic needs for him and his wife before he finally makes his way to the baby station. Yoongi feels proud of himself by this moment, knowing that he has managed to get most of the things he knows his wife wanted him to get.
Until he finds the baby supplies corridor, and that's when he feels lost. "Baby oil and talc, right?" he asks himself, reaching for the said items to add to his cart before pushing it forward. "Okay, what else?" he looks around, finding some other stuff he knows his baby needs, but there is something missing in the back of his mind.
Yoongi reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone to make a quick call to his wife to make sure, just in time for it to ring for an incoming call. "Namjoon? What is it?" he speaks to his device moments after he receives the call.
"Where are you? Are you here yet?"
"No, I'm making a quick stop. Why? Is everyone there already?" he asks his buddy while he keeps on walking with his shopping cart and his eyes scanning the racks.
"Not yet, but the new producer called and told me that he is almost here. How much longer will you get here?"
Yoongi curses as he looks down at his watch, realizing by now how much time have passed since he got here. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Wait for me," he says in a rush, putting his phone away after ending the call. He glances around one last time before deciding that he has gotten everything he needs, reaching to grab a small box of baby snacks before he makes his way to the cashier.
"Are you on your way home yet?"
Yoongi gives out a quick wave at his friends and the producers he just had a meeting with while he walks out of the building, making his way to his car with his phone placed on his ear. "The meeting just ended, I'm heading straight home now," he answers to the phone while sliding his free hand into his coat pocket to retrieve his keys.
"Oh, good," he hears his wife letting out a relieved sigh. "I miscalculated the diapers we have at home. I thought we still have at least one, but it turns out that I had used the last one today. Which means we might be needing the new one soon. You don't have to rush, though. The baby is still asleep so we don't have to worry about changing yet. You have the diapers, don't you?"
Yoongi stands still beside his car, his hand that is holding the key stops mid-air when his wife's words struck him. He can feel the blood in his body running chill when it dawns him.
The diapers.
"Yoongi?"
"Uh, yes― of course, I got them, don't worry," he chuckles, clearing his throat immediately to hold his voice from cracking. "I'm on my way now, wait for me at home, okay?"
He jumps into his car immediately as the phone call is cut off, rushing to the grocery bags and starts rummaging its contents. He can feel his skin growing paler when he can't find the item he needs.
He had forgotten the diapers.
"She is going to fucking kill me," he curses, hitting his head on the steering wheel. He goes silent for a brief moment before an idea comes into his head.
Yoongi sits straight in the driver's seat as he makes another phone call, his eyes are locked on the time showing on his watch as he waits for the call to come through. The other end of the call only answers at the fourth dial tone.
"Jin? I need your help."
Jin is already standing in his doorway when Yoongi parks his car in the driveway of his home. His toddler daughter is standing next to him, clinging to his long legs while holding her storybook on her side and with a huge smile on her face as she spots her favourite uncle coming.
"Uncle Yoongi!!" she calls out to him as he steps out of the car, earning both men to smile fondly at the small girl.
"Somi, why are you still awake?" Yoongi greets the child first, messing up her hair before looking at her father who is staring at him with squinted eyes.
"I was reading her a story when you called," he said while placing his hand on the child's shoulder. "She's been bugging her baby brother so I had to get her away from him to let him sleep."
Yoongi lets out a chuckle. "Well, sorry to interrupt your story time," he said.
"It’s alright," Jin only shrugs as he hands a pack of diapers to Yoongi. "The pack is already opened but it's actually a fresh one. My wife only took one for an emergency we had this morning. We still have some supplies so you don't have to worry about anything."
"Thanks, Jin," Yoongi sighs, taking the diapers in his hand with relief. "Sorry for troubling you this late at night."
"No problem," Jin smiles at him, before giving him a teasing wink. "Good luck on dodging your wife."
"Oh, right on time," Yoongi's wife greets the man as he walks past the front door. "The baby just woke up and I think it's time to change the diaper," she grins before giving her husband a soft kiss to welcome him home.
"Hmmm―" Yoongi leans down to return the affection he is missing so much, deepening the kiss with a soft sigh escaping him and a smile creeping on his lips. "How are you feeling?" he asks her as he pulls away.
"I'm feeling good, actually. Still a bit lethargic but I think that's what I get from sleeping all day," she chuckles. "Where is it? Let me put the groceries and change the baby's diaper so you can rest."
"Actually―" he stops her from reaching into the grocery bags in his hands. "Why don't you just sit tight and let me do all the work. I'll put away the groceries and change the diapers for you."
He watches his wife pouting her lips and nearly feels guilty for lying to her. "But I'm bored," she complains at him. "I have been doing nothing but resting and playing with the dumpling all day. Besides, aren't you tired?"
Yoongi shakes his head and kisses his wife's temple to convince her to let him go. "I am, but I miss the baby too. Let me do it, please?"
She finally nods after a moment and gives another offer. "Then I'll prepare some food and beer for you while you tend the baby, okay?"
"Sure," he sighs, trying to hold back from showing how relieved he is for being able to get away. He makes his way straight into the bedroom where the baby is after leaving the bags filled with food and other supplies in the living room, making sure that he is carrying the bag containing the baby supplies and the diaper―yes, the one he got from Jin earlier―with him, and away from his wife's sight.
The baby is wide awake when he enters the room, cooing lightly with their eyes staring at the hanging toys circling above them and their hands waving around.
"Hey there, Min dumpling," he greets the baby softly, as he looks over at the crib. Now that he has a better look at his baby, he can see the frown appearing on his baby, quite possibly a result of wearing a dirty diaper for too long. Thankfully, only moments later, their face lights up at the sight of their father, allowing a huge smile to take over Yoongi's face immediately out of relief. He reaches for the baby and carries them to the changing pad, while softly humming at the angel in his hands, "Are we ready to change? Looks like someone has filled up the nasty diaper, huh?"
The baby only laughs at him, of course, their eyes seem to widen at their father's deep voice, enjoying the soft hum as if he is cooing them to sleep. He lays the baby on the pad as he reaches for the diaper, glancing out the doorway to make sure that he won't get caught of grabbing an already opened pack of diaper by his wife before turning back to face the baby. Yet for some reason, he still feels like getting caught by the way his little child is now staring at him with squinted eyes.
"What? Don't judge me," he scoffs lightly. "Daddy is a busy man, okay? He forgets things sometimes."
He acts as if the baby understands him, and with the way the child mumbles with a deep frown on their face as if they are responding to him, scolding him for lying to their mother, he feels like he is being judged by his little one. "I'm sorry, I'll make sure to get you a new one first thing in the morning. Meanwhile, we'll just use what your uncle Jin gave us, okay?"
Yoongi starts changing his baby's diaper, tending the child gently as if he is already well-trained on the task. The child keeps mumbling as he does the task, earning the man to continue cooing with assuring words until the child's face grows brighter.
"There you go," he says as he is done changing them into their fresh new diaper. "Feeling better and refreshed already, aren't we?"
He chuckles when the child starts giggling in glee as he lifts them into his hold. "Promise me one thing, okay?" he asks his child before they head back to their mother in the kitchen, "Please don't tell Mom."
The baby goes still for a brief moment, glancing back at their father before letting out a loud giggle as if they are agreeing to his plea.
MINISERIES | PETALS
Disclaimer: All works are written by myself. Any copyright infringement, reposting on any other social media or website, and any act of plagiarism will be dealt with legal action
#bts writing squad#kkreationsnet#bangtan bookclub#bangtanwriters-net#noonanet#sugaslutsociety#cmbnetwork#yoonminseok-net#suga scenarios#bts scenarios#yoongi scenarios#suga fluff#yoongi fluff#bts fluff#suga fanfic#bts fanfic#yoongi fanfic#baby min drabble series#parenthood! au#dad! yoongi#dad!bts#dad!yoongi
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A Bonding Chat (Part 2)
There still was no answer when ka-yu finally got home in the evening. He wondered if maybe he had made a mistake.
Did I say something wrong?, he asked. I’m sorry.
Still, he didn’t get a reply. He didn’t want to look like a creep who kept sending desperate messages, so he just left it at that. It was bothering him, though.
He liked this guy and he felt sorry for maybe having fucked it up. He didn’t know what was up with him when he was online anyway. Ka-yu didn’t think of himself as a very sexual person. He wasn’t like yasu. But he had surprised himself those last days.
The best thing would be to just go to sleep early. If he stayed up, it only left him more time for worrying.
So, he got ready for sleep, already climbing into bed as his mobile finally buzzed.
No, it wasn’t about you. Work just went crazy this afternoon. I only came home an hour ago and still needed to eat first and stuff. I’m sorry to have you worried. In fact, I really enjoyed talking to you today…
Ka-yu stared at the … It seemed to hold a lot of meaning. He wasn’t sure if it was okay to dig into it, though.
So, you did what I told you?, he asked anyway.
Yes. I locked myself in a cabin in the men’s room and touched myself while thinking of you.
Great. Ka-yu was growing hard again. Was it always like that when you first met someone?
How did it make you feel?
This time he had to wait for the answer a little while.
I felt embarrassed by it, a little ashamed even to be so under your control. But it also turned me on that you were the only one knowing what a lewd slut I am. I got really excited obeying to you. Are you pleased with me?
Yes, ka-yu typed. You did really good today. What else turns you on? Tell me something you fantasize about that is so kinky you feel embarrassed by it.
Once more, he had to wait for a bit. Probably the other one had to think about his answer first. Ka-yu’s heart fluttered when the reply finally came. He was curious and also weirdly excited by making him tell a secret. It seemed to grant him power, made him feel strong and in control.
I want you to put me on the leash like a dog.
Ka-yu blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected that, but he had to admit that there was something about the idea, though.
So, you enjoy being down on all fours? Taking my orders?
Yes.
It was only one word, but it made ka-yu have a lot of feelings. None of them were pure.
I’m gonna have you down on the floor, he wrote. And I’m gonna take you right there, like the little whore you are.
He wondered if he sounded too insulting, but once again he got carried away by the mood.
Make me your whore then. I want to be yours.
Ka-yu groaned. His dick was throbbing already. The last bit of restraint seemed to shatter and he decided not to hold back any longer. Finally, he could write down all the things he had never dared to say upfront to anybody. It did not matter, because they did not have to look each other in the eyes and they both wanted the same. In this chat he did not have to be afraid of being judged.
I want to cum in your face. I want to make you beg for it on your knees. I want to stretch you out so much, you can still feel how I fucked you for days.
Please, give it to me. That’s exactly how I need it.
Ka-yu gave in to his body and started touching himself under the blankets.
The thought that there was someone out there who was okay with all those things, who wanted just the same as ka-yu, was almost too good to be true.
He closed his eyes and allowed himself to get carried away by the feeling. There was a chance all of his dirty fantasies might come true soon. He was a very lucky guy.
Only after the last waves of a small orgasm had faded, did he take up his mobile again.
You are a devil, he wrote. If it goes on like that you’re gonna cause me a tendinitis.
I really wish I was there to help you out with that :( But I think I’ll go to sleep now instead, sorry.
The apology made ka-yu feel a little weird. Somehow, it felt sad although he couldn’t quite name why. It seemed a little too eager to please, a little too afraid to do something wrong.
Would you like to go on a date on Saturday?
He had written the words at the spur of the moment but realized immediately that they might have sounded wrong. They were meant to be nice.
I mean, an online date. Don’t worry, we’ll stay anonymous for a bit longer, he added.
I don’t really understand how that is supposed to work.
Nervously, ka-yu licked his lips. The idea had been spontaneous, and it was probably very stupid.
I thought we could just get some tasty food, dress up nicely and maybe light a candle next to the computer screen. I’ll meet you online at eight? We could just eat and chat. Pretty much like a real date, but with texting.
Without meaning to he held his breath. Hopefully, he hadn’t made a fool of himself.
That sounds stupid and ridiculous … And you better put on a suit for our first date!
Ka-yu laughed as he read the message.
I’m a gentleman after all!
A gentleman who wants to fuck me on the floor and calls me a whore?
The message did not sound reproachful, but rather teasing. He was still grinning.
Yes. I’m a gentleman because I treat you to dinner first before doing those things.
Okay, I’m looking forward to both then. (PS: I’m flexible about the order, though …)
Ka-yu chuckled and felt weirdly giddy all of a sudden. The last date he had been serious about had been ages ago and now he felt almost nervous, although they wouldn’t even meet in person. Obviously, his crush was only getting worse.
***
Ka-yu was home from the studio early today, but although he had sent a friendly Hey, how was your day? His mobile stayed silent.
So, he did a bit of cleaning and grocery shopping, getting everything ready for the perfect date at his place tomorrow. He knew it was ridiculous, because his partner would never even see his apartment, but he wanted it to be nice anyway. His plan depended all on creating the right atmosphere and he would do his part at least.
The last time he had done something really romantic had been years ago and he was so excited, he had almost told yasu. But then he had realized his best friend would probably just laugh at him. Yasu wasn’t the type for sentimental gestures, especially if they were stupid and pointless and would not result in real life sex. Yasu would never have agreed to something like an online date.
Ka-yu started to wonder why he kept comparing everyone he met to yasu all the time, as his mobile buzzed. Hastily he grabbed it to look at the screen. He smiled at the message and went to switch on the computer as it was more convenient for typing. He was a little too eager, he admitted, but he had waited all afternoon.
Work was okay. I went shopping afterwards to prepare for our date tomorrow ;D
Great, ka-yu wrote. I also got groceries for cooking already.
I didn’t do that yet.
Ka-yu furrowed his brow.
What else was there to prepare for?
The next message told him and it caused his breath to catch.
I went to buy new underwear.
Oh, ka-yu replied.
He didn’t know what else to say. His whole mind was a giant Oh! And suddenly he also wondered why the date had to be online.
Want to see?
Ka-yu wanted nothing more than that.
Of course!
The file arrived almost immediately, so the picture had probably been taken beforehand already.
Ka-yu licked his lips, before opening it. It was most likely just underwear, he told himself. He had seen underwear before. No reason to get excited.
Well, it wasn’t just underwear, although underwear was definitely involved. In fact, the picture showed a pair of shorts with the cheapest leopard print he had ever seen. The fabric was clinging tightly to the full curve of a perfect butt.
Ka-yu swore. Loudly.
He had been a little worried that his chat partner would not be as attractive as he imagined him to be. But that butt was nothing but fine.
Wow, looks so sexy, he stated honestly.
So, you like the pants?
Your butt looks great in those. Fuck, the things I would do to you if I was there now …
Like what?
Like spanking your sexy butt until the cheeks turn all red. Or bury my face in it, pull down those pants and eat your ass.
It felt weird to say those things so directly, but it was exactly how that picture made ka-yu feel.
Sounds like it was a good investment either way ;D
Ka-yu smirked at the message, knowing full well that he would masturbate over this picture tonight. Usually, he would have felt guilty about that, but in this specific case he was quite sure that this had been exactly the intention.
Will you wear them for our date tomorrow then?, he asked.
I will since they seem to get you so excited.
Now, I’m looking forward to it even more.
He wasn’t lying.
I didn’t want to feel sexy for someone in a while. Thank you for that.
Ka-yu thought about the message. There seemed to be an implication he didn’t quite understand.
Heart-broken?, he guessed.
Sort of. Feeling unwanted, because the right person didn’t notice.
They must be an idiot then.
He couldn’t believe anyone would be able to not notice that butt.
They are. But I’m getting over it. It feels safe to be myself with you.
Please, be yourself. I want to know everything about that person, ka-yu wrote.
It made him sad and angry that there might be people out there who made other people feel like they couldn’t be themselves. He would never give that feeling to anyone close to him, he was absolute sure about that.
***
Good evening, I hope you like our table.
Ka-yu had sat down in front of the computer, candles and plates set up around himself. He had put in a serious effort and hoped that the other one had done the same.
Yes, it’s a very nice place you picked, the other one agreed.
They had chatted during the day already, so it felt a bit weird now to just switch, but it seemed to go off well.
And they are very fast with cooking. My dinner is already there.
Mine, too. By the way, that is a very nice tie you are wearing there.
Ka-yu looked down on himself. He had dressed up and was wearing a button-down shirt indeed, but no tie. He decided to play along anyway.
Glad you like it. I’m planning to use it to tie your wrists to the bed later on.
Such sweet promises so early at the evening? ;D
Ka-yu smirked.
Just because you are looking so handsome yourself in that outfit.
Thanks. I bought this suit for a friend’s wedding.
Ka-yu had picked up his chopsticks by now to start eating. Their replies were coming slow therefore, but it was a nice atmosphere. He liked eating in company and this was close enough already. The flames of the candles were flickering lightly and if he concentrated he could almost imagine a good-looking guy in a suit just doing the same.
Getting closer to 30 means everyone is starting to get married, right?
Yeah. I’m happy for them, but it also makes me feel like a failure. Still single, always busy. Maybe I’ll never manage to lead a stable relationship.
You are still young, ka-yu typed between two bites.
He knew this feeling all too well himself, though. The person he was spending most of his time with was his best friend he knew since childhood. It didn’t sound like much of an achievement, or even personal growth.
I guess, I’m just lonely sometimes. I spend most of my time with my best friend, but I can’t expect him to be there all the time. He has a life on his own.
Is he the one …?
A tight knot was forming in ka-yu’s stomach. It sounded somehow familiar and at the same time he felt jealous over a guy he had never met. It was a surprising feeling.
Yes, but it was entirely one-sided. I’m done wasting my time. I want someone who returns my feelings.
So, I don’t need to feel jealous?
No, I’m here on a date with you after all and no one else.
Ka-yu smiled, because the other one had actually called it a date.
I’m relieved. I saw your butt and I don’t want to share it.
He received a smiley that seemed to indicate the other one was laughing at him.
Is there someone in your life I need to be worried about?
This time, ka-yu hesitated. The plate in front of him was empty by now, but he still paused a moment before replying. Yasu’s face flashed up behind his eyes, the way he looked when he laughed, all wrinkles and teeth.
No one, he wrote.
Good. Are we ordering dessert?
If this is supposed to work out between us, there is one thing you need to know about me: When I go out to a nice restaurant I will always – always – order dessert.
Again, the laughing smiley popped up in the chat.
You like sweets then?
I live for sweets, ka-yu explained seriously.
To him, sweets were a very serious matter.
He got up to put the dirty dishes in the kitchen and get the chocolates he had put in the fridge earlier. Ka-yu was a slut for those.
Will you have more shootings this week?, ka-yu wanted to know when he came back.
No, I actually have the week off, more or less.
For ka-yu it was the same. The studio wasn’t booked for another week, so they would have to work at home a bit, thinking about how songs could be improved or changed in the meantime.
Me too, more or less, he joked.
Any plans?
Ka-yu thought about the plans he had made. They weren’t really anything special. Working on some songs, taking the opportunity to do some of the stuff alone that yasu would never join him on.
Well, there is this exhibition at Tokyo Gallery, he admitted. It only runs for two more weeks. It’s about modern art and I’d like to see it, so I’m probably going to do that.
Really? That sounds very interesting! I love going to museums, although I don’t look like the type xD
A sudden rush of joy went through ka-yu. A kinky guy, who liked to visit museums. What was there more to ask for?
We could go together, he suggested. It could be our second date.
Another date idea as great as this one?
There was a slight irony behind the words, but ka-yu chose to ignore it.
I know you don’t want to meet yet. We could agree on a day for each of us to visit, so we don’t run into each other by accident. I promise, I won’t show up to stalk you or something. And even if you are scared of that, it’s a public space so I might not even recognize you. Afterwards we could talk about the exhibition and it will feel as if we went together.
… You are either hopelessly romantic or really stupid xD Which day did you want to go?
I planned to go on Monday, ka-yu wrote.
Great, I’m free on Tuesday. I always wanted to have a date at the museum.
Ka-yu was grinning like an idiot again. He probably was stupid, and also a little romantic. He was glad to have found someone who didn’t laugh at him but agreed to his spontaneous ideas instead.
I’m already looking forward to seeing you again.
Why in such a hurry? Our first date isn’t even over yet. Why don’t you take me home now?
Should I call a cab?
No, it’s not far, we can walk.
Again, ka-yu’s grin felt slightly stupid on his face. He enjoyed this game. He enjoyed to be silly with someone.
Here, let me help you into the jacket.
Thanks, you are indeed a gentleman xD
So, you live in this area of Tokyo? Do you like the neighbourhood?, ka-yu asked.
It’s pretty alright, for Tokyo. I sometimes miss home, though.
You are not from here?
No. Hardly anyone in the entertainment business is, right? Everyone moves here.
Yes, I came here, too.
And do you like it?
Ka-yu bit his lower lip. It was a difficult question.
I do, but I still miss home as well. Several friends of mine have moved here, too, though. Being around them feels like home.
Again, he thought of yasu without meaning to.
It’s the same for me. It’s good to be around people who remind you where you came from. It can be difficult to show them you’ve changed, though. Matured, I mean.
Ka-yu wasn’t sure if he agreed, but then the other one probably had a point. With yasu he could never discuss books or go to a museum. It was frustrating sometimes that he would just make fun of him. He never seemed to view ka-yu as an adult but only as the kid he used to be. He always acted as if ka-yu was a child playing grown-up.
I guess you are right, he finally agreed.
Oh, and this is my apartment, we’re already here.
That’s a nice building, ka-yu stated.
I just have to look for my keys, wait.
Ka-yu waited, but the chat stayed silent.
He tried to imagine the situation; standing outside someone’s front door, waiting for them to vanish inside.
May I kiss you?, he wrote.
Idiot, I’ve been waiting for it the whole time.
Suddenly feeling shy, ka-yu smiled to himself. He wasn’t really kissing him of course, but he still felt scared to do something wrong.
That was really nice, he typed.
Do you want to come in for a moment?
And again, he felt excited although he wasn’t physically in the situation. He could imagine it as long as both of them pretended it was real, and that was enough to make his stomach flutter anxiously.
Is that alright? I already kissed you good night after all …
Then come here and do it again.
Ka-yu inhaled deeply.
I would like to do that.
Please, I’m a little slow sometimes. Tell me, what you are doing.
Ka-yu swallowed hard.
I’m walking towards you until I’m standing very close. I raise my hand and run it through your hair, cupping the back of your head as I lean in to kiss you again. I part my lips against yours, so I can taste you.
Anxiously, he waited for the reply.
He had never led a conversation like this and he was afraid of doing something wrong. Was he being too tender, taking it too slow? More description? Less description?
I’m returning your kiss, leaning into you. My hand is on your hip, the other one taking hold of your tie to pull you down a little closer.
Ka-yu wished he had actually put on a tie, but he assumed it didn’t matter much.
I’m pushing the jacket over your shoulders, so it falls to the floor. I stop kissing you to start unbuttoning your shirt slowly, while I make eye-contact.
Ka-yu’s heartbeat was picking up pace now, as he waited for the reply.
I reach up to stop your hands undressing me. I take hold of your wrist gently and pull you after me into the bedroom. I start kissing you again and tear at the buttons of your shirt impatiently.
With his fingers he drummed a quick rhythm on the keyboard before writing back. He tried to imagine what he would do next, tried to figure out the current mood between them.
I help you take off my shirt completely. Then I undo the last buttons of yours and strip it off as well. I push you onto the bed and get on top of you.
I’m pulling down your neck to kiss you again, the reply said. I’m caressing your chest, running my hand down your body until I reach the waistband of your pants.
I’m placing kisses on your neck now, ka-yu wrote. Going down your chest. I use both hands to unbutton your pants and pull them down; my mouth is still on your body.
I run my hands over your back, my fingers are digging into your spine. I push my hips up against you. I’m already hard and need you to hurry.
Ka-yu took in several deep breaths before replying once again.
I pull down your pants completely now, so you are naked in front of me. I take up one of the pillows to push it under your butt. Then I spread your legs, grabbing the back of your knee to force up one of them. I lower my head, licking over the inside of your thigh and up to your butt. I circle your hole with my tongue, pushing forward teasingly.
My hands are buried in your hair, holding on to you while I moan loudly under your lips. My body is trembling and I’m begging you to fuck me already.
Ka-yu gave a quiet moan himself while reading. How he wished to really be in this situation right now.
I’m getting up to take off my pants as well. I’m so hard by now, I can wait no longer. I slip in between your legs again, my dick pushing up against your butt.
I wrap my legs around you to pull you closer. I need you inside already.
I start thrusting into you, gasping for air because you make me feel so good and looking right at your face.
I return your gaze, my moans turning louder. I’m holding on to you, clenching your dick tightly with my body.
I go on fucking you, ka-yu wrote. My thrusts are coming hard and fast, but I make sure you’re alright with it.
Fuck, I’m coming.
I’ll cum inside of you, ka-yu typed.
Only then did he allow himself to unbuckle his pants and take hold of his hard dick. He started to stroke himself firmly and his excitement was so big already that it didn’t take long, before the orgasm finally hit him.
Ka-yu sighed with relieve, closing his eyes for a brief minute.
Are we cuddling now?, the last message on the screen asked.
Yes, ka-yu wrote. I’m holding you in my arms closely until you fall asleep.
That feels nice.
Ka-yu thought that, indeed, it did.
***
He had slept in late, but now ka-yu was bored. His internet connection was extraordinary slow today and he was already fed up with his own company.
By now, he regretted declining yasu’s offer to go out. He had seemed a little offended and he wondered if it was too late to change his mind.
Since he couldn’t think of anything better to do, he decided to give it a try anyway. Ka-yu picked up his phone and dialled yasu’s number.
It didn’t take long for him to pick up.
“Hey, ka-yu, what’s up?”
Without meaning to ka-yu started smiling. It was good to hear yasu’s voice. He sounded cheerful.
“Just wondering about your plans for the evening.”
Through the speaker he could hear a long yawn.
“No one wants to hang out, so I thought I’d stay at home lazily and maybe send people pictures of my dick or something.”
Ka-yu rolled his eyes, although he knew that yasu was joking. At least, he hoped he was.
“If you still want to see those newcomers, I’d be up for it”, he said.
For a moment yasu stayed silent as if he had to consider it first. Ka-yu imagined him with ponytail and loose clothes, ready to stay at home. He stopped imagining it when he noticed it was slightly turning him on.
“Yeah, alright”, he agreed. “I’ll send you the address of the club and we’ll meet there, okay?”
***
Yasu had dressed up. If you considered really, really tight leather pants as dressing up. Ka-yu surely did.
He watched his friend jumping up and down, blonde hair flying all around him.
They were standing at the very back, far off from the stage and the crazy fans shouting in front of it. It did not stop yasu from headbanging, though. It did not stop him at all.
“They are awful!”, ka-yu shouted at him.
The bands were all young and – indeed – all awful.
“They are not so bad!”, yasu shouted back and grabbed his arm, pulling him over to the counter of the bar.
He looked sweaty and out of breath from dancing. The wet sheen on his dark eyes told ka-yu it was the beer that made him dance; not the music.
Yasu leaned over the counter, waving the bartender over.
“Two vodkas!”, he shouted and held up two fingers.
Ka-yu tried to pull down his hand again to stop him from making reckless orders. Behind him the vocalist missed a note by several octaves it seemed. Ka-yu winced.
“They are awful!”, he repeated.
This time yasu nodded.
“Yes, they are”, he agreed and turned back to the bartender. “Better make it four then!”
Ka-yu groaned as the bartender filled four glasses with the clear liquid. It would taste disgusting and get them drunk fast. He really wasn’t up for it.
“I’m not gonna drink this”, he told yasu.
“Yes, you will”, yasu said.
The vocalist behind them started growling.
Ka-yu took up the first glass.
“Wait”, yasu interrupted him and extended his hand. “Give me your mobile first.”
Annoyed ka-yu rolled his eyes.
“That’s not necessary, yasu”, he pointed out.
Yasu did not move.
“You know the rules. You don’t let a drunk friend use their mobile.”
Ka-yu sighed again and handed his mobile over to yasu. He grinned as he changed ka-yu’s pin and handed it back.
“I’ll tell you the combination tomorrow”, he said and lifted the first glass to empty it in one gulp.
Ka-yu followed his example, a hot burn in his throat telling him that he would be able to feel the liquor soon.
“If you forget it, I’ll kill you”, he said as they both lifted their second glass.
Yasu was already tipsy from the beer and ka-yu knew that it would take only minutes for the world around them to start spinning.
“What about you? Shouldn’t I change your pin as well, to keep you from doing something stupid?”
Yasu laughed out loud, his teeth showing with amusement, the hair falling into his face.
“I never do stupid things when I’m drunk”, he said.
Then he grabbed ka-yu’s collar, pulled him down and kissed him on the lips. The touch lingered a little too long, ka-yu thought. He could feel the warmth and softness of yasu’s lips clearly, could almost taste the alcohol in his breath. He was just about to open his mouth against him as yasu pulled back.
“Well, hardly ever”, he corrected himself.
Both of them giggled.
And then the world did start to spin.
***
Ka-yu woke dizzy and without orientation. He was glad to find himself in his own bedroom, but less glad about the giant headache pounding behind his forehead.
He remembered jumping to bad music and how nice yasu’s butt had looked in those leather pants. Everything else was more or less gone.
After some fumbling he found his mobile underneath his pillow. He also needed a painkiller very urgently, but his phone was more important right now.
With a slow blink he stared at the screen. The mobile was still locked. At least that meant he hadn’t made any embarrassing calls. It also meant he didn’t know his current pin code. Yasu had changed it last night and not told him since.
“6969”, he typed as a wild guess.
The mobile unlocked immediately.
Ka-yu rolled his eyes.
His messenger told him that he had one message waiting for him.
He ignored it and called yasu.
Today, he had to wait for a long time, but he stayed on the line patiently. Each signal made his head buzz. He gritted his teeth.
“Morning”, yasu’s voice finally groaned into the speaker.
“Are you alive?”, ka-yu asked.
“Honestly, I have no idea.”
Ka-yu nearly laughed but stopped himself in time. Just grinning seemed to hurt.
“I just woke up and my head feels awful.”
“Mine, too”, ka-yu agreed.
“Are you home?”
Ka-yu checked the room. This was definitely his apartment.
“Yes. Where are you?”
Another long groan from the phone.
“I think I had sex with someone last night. I’m at a hotel room and I think I’m … oh, yes, I’m definitely naked.”
Ka-yu made a face.
He tried not to bother, but the thought that yasu had had sex with someone else last night did bother him.
“Is someone there?”
“No, I’m all alone. I have no memory about it whatsoever.”
Yasu added a little laugh, but it sounded forced.
“Are you okay?”, ka-yu wanted to know.
“No, idiot. I told you my head is killing me.”
Ka-yu hesitated.
“I don’t mean that. It’s scary to wake up like that when you don’t know what happened.”
Yasu laughed again.
“Why would it be? I probably had sex. That’s good. Sex is good, I like it. I’m glad.”
Ka-yu exhaled gravely.
That was exactly the reason why sometimes it seemed impossible to talk to yasu. Whenever he wanted an honest answer – whenever there was the chance he might seem vulnerable – yasu shut down and started joking. He wondered why that was. They were best friends after all.
“Yasu”, he said softly. “How are you?”
He could hear yasu inhale shakily.
“I’m freaking out a bit”, he admitted.
“Want me to come and get you? Tell me where you are and I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
For a while, yasu just stayed silent.
“No”, he said in the end. “I will be alright. I will get home on my own. If you feel like I do, you should take a couple of painkillers and go back to sleep. But thank you.”
Once again, ka-yu hesitated.
“Okay”, he sighed. “But message me when you get home. I want to know you got there safely.”
“I will”, yasu promised before hanging up on him.
Only then did ka-yu get up to get some painkillers from the bathroom. He swallowed two at once and went back to bed.
Before closing his eyes again, he checked the message that waited on his phone. It wasn’t a really long one.
His first thought was to curse yasu. If he hadn’t handed over his phone to him, if he hadn’t gone out with him in the first place, he would have read that message yesterday. The whole evening would have turned out differently. Thanks to him he had missed the opportunity to meet with this gorgeous guy he had been texting with.
His second thought was worse, and he brushed it aside fast.
Come here and fuck me, was all the message said. And underneath an address and the room number of a hotel.
***
It was already late afternoon when ka-yu woke again.
His head was better, but he felt dehydrated and he had a weird taste on his tongue.
He got himself a huge bottle of water from the kitchen and also a sandwich, although he wasn’t hungry at all.
Then he checked his mobile.
Yasu had sent him a text that he had made it home without problems and that he had talked to the staff at the hotel. Obviously, he had spent the night alone, so now he could sleep peacefully.
Ka-yu smiled.
It sounded as if yasu had went straight back to bed as well. It had been a tough night.
He hadn’t replied to the ominous message with the hotel address yet, but he had received a new one anyway.
Hey, I’m really sorry. No idea what has gotten into me. I hope you don’t think badly of me now? It was a mistake, please, let’s just forget about it. Did you go to the museum today anyway?
Loudly, ka-yu swore. It made his headache come back on.
The exhibition. He had completely forgotten about it. After last night all he had wanted to do was sleep. But if he told the other one that it might seem like he had cancelled their “date” because of what he had written that night.
Ka-yu didn’t want him to think he was judging him. If he had read it, he would have been there for sure. If he had had his phone, he might have done the same, actually.
Please, don’t worry about it. I just didn’t read your message yesterday, I wasn’t ignoring you on purpose. In fact, I would have loved to be there. But if you think it was a mistake, let’s not mention it until the timing is right to meet properly. And yes, I did go to the museum. But I don’t want to spoil you. Let’s talk about the exhibition after you saw for yourself :)
He hoped that he wouldn’t regret that lie, but it still seemed better than admitting the truth.
Thank you, he got as a reply. I’m already looking forward to tomorrow then.
Ka-yu wanted to curse himself.
Tomorrow, right. The other one would go to the exhibition tomorrow, so ka-yu wasn’t allowed to go. If they recognized each other by chance it would mean he had broken the rules. But at the same time, he had no idea how he was supposed to talk about an exhibition he hadn’t seen.
He would have to figure out something by tomorrow evening.
***
Tuesday had been reserved for getting some work done. But ka-yu was having trouble being productive.
His thoughts were still circling around the message he had received Sunday night. They also circled around yasu waking up in a hotel room.
Currently, he was sitting over a song. Something about the bass lines he was supposed to play felt weird there, but he couldn’t quite name why. He could need help with it; a second opinion.
It was yasu who had written the song and talking it through with him would have been reasonable.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see him, though. He wasn’t sure if yasu would be busy today. It was their week off and he shouldn’t bother him.
Before the doubts started to get overwhelming, he picked up his phone and called his best friend.
“Hey, yasu. Are you free today by any chance?”, he asked.
“Hi, ka-yu.”
After the greeting yasu stayed silent for a moment.
“Actually, I do have plans for today. What is it?”
Ka-yu bit his lip.
Yasu had plans. He could work on the song alone. He could meet with him another time.
“It’s not important. I could need your help with a song, but it does not have to be today.”
There was another short pause.
“I’ll be over in twenty minutes”, yasu said.
Ka-yu’s heart skipped a beat without reason. Was he glad yasu came over? Frightened? Or just confused?
“Okay, twenty minutes”, he repeated.
It took yasu thirty minutes, but with the traffic it wasn’t really a surprise.
His blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail and ka-yu thought he still looked a little sleepy.
He gave ka-yu a small smile.
“How are you feeling?”, ka-yu asked.
Yasu shrugged as he went straight to ka-yu’s working place.
“Okay, I guess. Yesterday was hell, though.”
“I’m sorry you had to cancel your plans today.”
Yasu made a small noise that could have meant anything.
“It’s not important”, he waved it off. “So, which song is troubling you?”
Ka-yu sat down next to him and watched yasu closely.
He was still smiling, but it wasn’t his usual goofy smile. He was in working mood.
“Well, here. The bass line is off. I have some ideas how to improve it, but I need your opinion.”
He handed over the headphones, so yasu could listen to the recording. The vocalist placed them over his ears, his expression serious. A small line appeared at the root of his nose as he listened closely. He was not fooling around now, just listening very earnestly.
Ka-yu liked this version of yasu. He was a dork, but when it was about work he could switch off his inner goof completely. It was a mature yasu he was watching right now and he was always very impressed by it. This yasu was an adult, a real musician with talent and ambition. He wasn’t the boy that copied his homework from ka-yu last minute, because he had spent all night playing video games anymore.
“What?”, yasu chuckled as he caught him staring and pulled down the headphones again.
Ka-yu shook his head lightly.
“You’re sexy when you’re serious”, he admitted.
“Good luck that doesn’t happen too often, or you’d fall in love with me”, yasu joked, but turned serious again almost immediately. “And yes, I can hear what’s your problem with that. What do you suggest?”
He looked right at ka-yu in a way that made him feel very warm inside all of a sudden.
Yasu had cancelled his plans for him without a second thought. He was here today to help him. He was hard-working and for a change did sound like he had actually outgrown puberty.
Lately, ka-yu had thought a lot about what his online acquaintance had said about the difficulty of maturing around your childhood friends. He hadn’t really allowed yasu to mature, because he had always viewed him as a boy, but in the meantime, he had turned into a very attractive man nonetheless. Well, at least had turned very attractive.
“I thought we could change it like that …”
***
When yasu finally left, ka-yu was tired to his bones.
They had spent all afternoon working on the song and afterwards ordered some cheap take-out food. It felt a lot like music had felt to them in the beginning.
The difference of course was that they had actually been productive today.
Working with yasu was always great. Sometimes his pervy jokes made him forget how creative he indeed was and what an amazing sense for melodies he had.
What ka-yu really needed right now was a nap, but he decided against it and switched on his computer instead.
It was this weird feeling that had stayed with him ever since he had seen the address of that hotel on his mobile screen. He had to make sure. He had to proof himself wrong.
Hey there, he wrote. Have you been to the exhibition today?
Without meaning to he held his breath. He wasn’t sure what he wanted the answer to be.
Luckily, it came almost immediately.
Yes, I was! It was really great, thanks for suggesting it. My favourite painting was number 36. 11 and 24 were good as well, though.
Gravely, ka-yu exhaled.
Whatever his assumption had been, it was stupid. It was a coincidence yasu and that guy had spent one night at a hotel at the same time. Yasu had been with him for the entire day. That guy had been to the art museum. Yasu wasn’t the type to go to the museum at all. Surely, he wasn’t the type who had an opinion he was able to discuss afterwards, moreover.
Fact was, that ka-yu also didn’t have an opinion he was able to discuss, but he knew enough people who had never let that stop them. It was too late for admitting he hadn’t been to the exhibition at all.
I really liked 24, too! Great use of colour.
Yes, I agree. The colour scheme was really powerful. Personally, I like the minimalistic stuff, too. Most of the artists managed to capture a lot with very few expressions. I always liked that about modern art.
Ka-yu thought of yasu again. He had showed him a modern painting he liked once. Yasu hadn’t stopped laughing for the rest of the day.
Yes. I think 21 was no good, though. The artist totally overdid it.
He had picked the number randomly and hoped he wouldn’t go off too far.
I know! Hardly any feeling at all. How did you feel about the sculptures?
Ka-yu sighed. Of course, there had been sculptures. There were always sculptures. He couldn’t just name a number now, in case the other one remembered. It would be embarrassing if he picked that of a painting.
They were overall alright. But I usually prefer paintings.
Really? I liked the second one a lot. Sculptures always add another dimension to art and I love to see how they interact with the space around them.
Ka-yu had to admit that he was impressed. He had always longed for a person whom he could talk to about things like that. And who had their own opinion, too. This guy wasn’t just kinky, he was also smart and interesting. Now, he felt almost guilty for the way he had watched yasu today.
He was smart about music, but in the end, he couldn’t compete to someone who was truly sophisticated.
If there is an exhibition on sculptures around here someday, we should go then :), ka-yu offered.
Maybe, we can go together for real then…
Something inside his chest fluttered weirdly. The thought of going to a museum together in real life was pretty exciting to him already.
Also, he decided that he would definitely go see that exhibition tomorrow. He was curious about what the other one liked specifically. Maybe, he could still catch up on their date after all.
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Angels do exist | Sungwoon
genre: fluff
member: sungwoon
requested: no
summary: never have you thought that you will be meeting an angel on street and saving his life instead.
side note: so recently, I was hearing the old kpop songs and miss you from sm ballad gave me a little aspiration to write this (this song is so good, that’s one of my favourite jam back in 2010)
- you just recently turned 23 and at this age, this is when people start their working career
- it goes the same for you
- you already got a job and you have moved out from your parent's house
- staying alone feels good because you could do whatever you want
- leave your clothes anywhere and no one would care
- singing as loud as you want and nobody would stop you
- but at times where you are resting on your off days, it would get kinda lonely
- so you decided to head to the supermarket to grab some groceries since your house is almost empty
- it's coming close to 9 and you know that the mart only closes at 11 so you quickly make your way there
- but as you are on your way while you're passing through alleys, you heard rustling sounds and a voice that sounded in pain
- so you followed to where that sound came from
- and you saw a guy.... with wings?
- but as soon as he sees you, he kept his wings
- you could sense that he is somehow injured which leaves him in this state
- you know you would feel guilty as hell if you are to leave him like this so you decided to ditch grocery shopping and bring this guy back home instead
- “don’t worry, I will take care of you.” you gave me a warm smile
- you guided him carefully because you didn't want him to get any more hurt as soon as you get home, you asked him to make himself comfortable while you get that first aid kit
- you slowly mend his wounds
- his wounds look so bad as if someone hit him with a wooden plank
- you continuously asked if it's okay for him and he nodded with a smile
- "t-thank you... it's really nice of you to take care of me" he stuttered
- "I'm sungwoon by the way"
- you introduced yourself to him but you could kinda sense how scared he is so you didn't want to ask about everything that happened
- like where did he get his wings from
- or is he from another planet
- you decided to just ask him if he's hungry
- since ramen is the only food left in your house, so you cooked that for him
- "I'm sorry I had to serve you noodles because that is all I have"
- "no no that's alright"
- he flashed an angelic smile and you wonder if that is how angels look like
- seems like someone straight out of the fairy tale
- realizing you have been staring at him, you broke the eye contact and apologized
- you showed him to the extra room and give him extra clothes that your brother left overnight
- afterwards, you went to shower and before you know it, you have fallen asleep
- when the next day arrives, you realized that you have to go for grocery shopping because you can’t possibly let sungwoon eat ramen again
- but before you could get out of the house
- people started banging on your door
- sungwoon and you started panicking
- and your first instinct is tell him to stay in the room, just in case there is danger
- you stayed calm and open the door
- 2 mysterious man wearing shades when it is clearly raining outside, stood in front of your door
- “where is ha sungwoon?”
- that immediately caught you off guard and you obviously have to lie
-“w-who is that?”
- “stop lying, we know he’s in there.”
- “I don’t know who is sungwoon and stop bothering me.” without hearing their replies, you shut the door in their faces and pray that they would go away
- what did you just do? lying on behalf of someone that you barely knew
- all of a sudden, you could feel a force from behind which made you fly into your living room
- seeing that those 2 men actually blew up your door made you sacred
- "FIND HIM.”
- with that, you stopped them from coming any closer
- once again, they pushed you hard
- although you wanted to stop them from entering the room, but you no longer have any more strength to do so
- and eventually, they found sungwoon
- but the moment sungwoon sees you lying on the floor, he started beating up those guys
- since there are 2 of them, the both of them eventually controlled sungwoon
- you got up and tried to get sungwoon out but they are too strong for you
- “stop hurting y/n!” with that, sungwoon spread his wings once more
- he looks so different from the first time you saw him back in the alley
- looking at how his wings are open, the guys seemed shocked and quickly took the chance to run away
- “are you okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you like you did for me.” sungwoon sighed
- “as long as you are okay, I’m alright.” you gave me a weak smile
- just like what you did to him, he started treating your wounds too
- as compared to the first time, the atmosphere is much more comfortable
- while treating you, sungwoon also told you the truth
- he said that those guys are devils in disguise where they could track where angels go to using their senses
- and if they find angels, they would transform them into devils too
- which is their main motive of finding sungwoon
- you sighed in relief, knowing that sungwoon isn’t taken away
- without thinking much, you hugged him and said, “I’m so thankful you’re still here.”
- “me too. I want to be here forever, especially by your side.” he kissed your forehead and you have never expected to meet an angel in your life
#wanna one scenarios#wanna one imagines#produce 101 scenarios#wanna one#wannaone#ha sungwoon#sungwoon#wanna one sungwoon#sungwoon scenarios#sungwoon imagines
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If you get the time can you please post a quick summary of Jealousy .Kat Division posted the raw of the last chapter .I'm just curious about what's going on with Rogi and Akitora are they now official lovers since it seems like he is visiting the house (and making out) and the wife and asoda knows .
First of all, I do not read the raws of jealousy, I just look through without reading it and wait for the chapter. And I have no idea what happened in chapter 7, so.. :|But, I’ll post a quick summary just this once. I’m so sorry but I’ve got so much work to do, and trying to read the kanji from photographs is incredibly difficult 。・゚・(ノД`)・゚・。 I can work on one (Given) but I can’t handle more _| ̄|○Thank you, @kat-division ! (๑´ڡ`๑)
I apologize in advance for the mistakes. (I was in a hurry)_____SPOILER ALERT_____
This is only a brief summary as there are pages and pages of complex stuff being discussed in this chapter (which i did not read through)
Continuing from where chapter 7 ended,-Asoda wakes up to find Asami (Akitora’s wife) sitting beside a sleeping Akitora, wiping his brow (his fever broke)-Asami wonders aloud if Akitora would die from the pain if he didn’t get his medication (she is DEFINITELY JEALOUS)-Asoda is shocked. Asami laughs saying it was a “joke”
~~next morning(?)~~-Rogi asks Akitora about Asami being too accepting of the situation-The pair (Rogi & Akitora) bicker like kids discussing doppelgangers.-Asami serves the food. Rogi asks Asami if the food has been poisoned. She says shes got friends at the pharmacy who can help with that if he wants it-Rogi asks her if she is plotting something but she tells him he should take a bath cz he stinks~~scene change~~-Some complex Yakuza stuff, Shareholders meeting, Asoda puts an old man in hot water (“chairman” appprently). Shit goes down. Chaos. Asoda gets kicked out of the meeting somehow. He catches a glimpse of some old dude (I couldn’t see who)~~back to Akitora’s place~~-Asoda and Akitora discuss business (more complicated shit)-Akitora tells Asoda that he “wants to kill” his dad(?) [he uses the word “oyaji”]-Asoda agrees and they continue with their discussion. Akitora asks Asoda if his ways are wrong and wants his honest opinion. Asoda then pours his heart out to his “waka”-A pretty nice conversation ending comically with Asoda displaying his enthusiasm wielding a paper cutting knife(?)
-Asami and Rogi return from grocery shopping-Rogi immediately runs to Akitora -Asoda is shocked and follows Asami and asks her if Rogi did anything to her-Asami: “He carried the bags” “I bought him sweets to thank him” (poor Asoda LOL)
-Rogi is chattering away to Akitora about the “Moai” and “Nazca”-Then asks Akitora what his wife is planning. That she’s really chilled out about her husband and the man he slept with, staying together-Akitora defends her saying shes not “that kind of a woman”-Rogi says he will be troubled if she is not. He’s irriated that she is too cool and he wants her to say something mean-He also admits that he thought he could win if they had sex but it didn’t work-Akitora changes the topic. Tells him there is something Rogi can do which Asami cant. And quizzes him about stocks and shares-He takes the bait. (apparently Rogi’s hunches are always spot-on) So, he lures Rogi into helping make more money “together”-Rogi jumps Tora (well, almost)-Akitora continues talking and finds out Rogi made a lot of money for Mr.Handa-He asks Rogi to help HIM make more money and not the family. And they talk some more.-Rogi leaves immediately “to strike while the iron is hot”-Tora tells him not to sell his body-Rogi kisses his forehead before he leaves. He is ecstatic because he thinks Akitora needs him~scene change~-Asoda tells Asami she doesn’t have to take care of Rogi-She says it cant be helped because Tora brought him. She thinks they’re like kids “even though they had sex”. Not that she isn’t irritated, but she’s being the dutiful wife and she’s going to see how things go, for a while.-But if “Uichi” were to replace her and become the “woman”, there will be no need of two females. She chops the cabbage savagely as she says that (yup, definitely jealous)~scene change~-Asoda’s monologue, he feels guilty for being so small-minded when “ane-san” is performing her role perfectly. He wonders if she cries when no one is around.-Tora calls for him to inform him that he has asked “Uichi” to help them with their work-(Asoda, feeling shocked and jealous) thinks the plan they both knitted together and his place (?) is being stolen by Rogi ~scene change~-Rogi is messing around with three homeless men-He helps them out by jumping in front of passing cars, and conning the drivers out of their money for medical fees-The last car he jumped in front of belongs to Psycho-Yakuza-Mads-Mikkelsen look-alike-scary dude-He steps out of the car and asks Rogi “what are you doing?”, “are you okay?” (the dude is CREEPY AF)
Thaaat’s it. Did I say “brief”? Well, I tried (°ー°〃)“Jealousy” is a fitting title for this series 0_0
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The Unfashionable era of couture models
By Michael Bench, MEP, GCERT
Unrealisitic images of thin runways models pinned to the edges of grocery isle magazine racks are more than an insult to the senses.A Celebrity wrinkle cream on every other page, guaranteed good sex advice despite no guarantee of sex, and top abdominal exercises are constant. Its like the fashion and womens media are as ineffective in personal guidance as the Congresspersons in WashingtonDc.
Year in and year out: the same rhetoric interrupted by new empty nutrient comfort food and new diets.If the female public of America and Europe find the abandonment of credit limits a peachy reckless therapy; they abided the trickery. Retail therapy they call it; and out in the malls they went. Loyal to their sense of fashion, not reason.Their closets brim full of clothes they don't wear.Sometimes they don't fit by excuse and othertimes;
most other times; the fad diet fed to them on the glossy paper of Cosmopolitan or Vogue; Womans World or Tabloids have them binging exercise one day and clung to the bed in PJs the next. Diuretics and stimulants all in one. The wealthy mix in the cocaine and the poor find their sack of crack or meth. Women face media manufactured body dissatisfaction as though it should be a norm. Media told them as much in the 80s and 90s' . Female teen body dissatisfaction was so frequent it was considered a norm according to the mainstream media.(Brumberg) As frequent were Macy's ads for overpriced couture and the latest synthetic body odors from France. Jacques love jism: Odore Mi Spoog'.
People are as lame to buy fitness as they will buy love or sex. Americans throw money at problems and the french are
more than happy to catch the funds; sans ethics. Sans concerns the fashion models ; gullible and or idiotic; will falsely norm small emaciated females the preferential look. We can skip all past the debate whether fashion models instruct eating disorders. They do. It’s a fact. Fashion models of couture and their handlers and designers expect a size no matter the female. Is it not the talent agent determining function and looks already?. The designer designs around the living being. To be alive she will be alotted her figure, not his. Dare he not say he designs clothes for females and instead for Douglas Fir 2x4s. Lumber has consistent linear physique; Not humans. Are we hearing each other Hedi Slimane and That Corpsy Pilgrim figure.. Whats his name? Oh yeh. Karl Lagerfeld. The guy who achieved a corpse's body to die for before he actually died. I stress a typical rhetoric we hear of models. The young girls say their role models on the runway have a body to die for; and in small ways that model really is dying for it.
Little has the united states government done to end the predatory consumer defining of gender roles of women. Women stay botched in their comfort with self.From religion to fashion. Did I mind if gays were able to be married? No. Did I mind if gays were in the military. Not at all. The evangelical, white and rapist male constituency in the military is far more a concern than gays could ever be as threats of morality against other personnel.
Still, homosexuality had a concealed secret for the sake of clothing sales and legitimacy not even they would address. GLAAD hasn't raised a finger to denounce haute couture female emaciation. The haute couture upscale fashion have skeletons in their closet; for 3-4 hours a day. Then the skeletons came out of the closet and design dresses for anorexics they credit themselves for . "Vickie'deSpewdin-Ateagain by Phillipe So'ure". I suppose a dress could be named in the same way a guitarist names his instrument. Taking credit for a whole person as if to be owned is a distorted sense of identity. A practiced sense of distortion by fashion's stars mad under the hat. Designers favorite anorexics are the fit-models. A real coveted secret stored in hospital rooms when out at shows or shopping. Skeletons, these gay skeleton fashion designers have poor sight as expected. Inside and out neither france or united states wanted to correct. Foolish. Very.
I knew from the start it was OSHA sitting on its ass. Since 2007 I tirelessly addressed it to Edwin Foulke Jr and his successors. At that point, the private sector was continually referred control under the GW Bush administration OSHA; and US LABOR OIG guilty by association; refused to update its occupational roles and regulations to meet with the technological and arts products of the time. The predominently homosexual male fashion designer has a 'vision' of beauty with as excessive a reacharound as Kevin Spacey to child actors. Dresses are built around a model, she doesn't make your expectations .. for a gay male, of a female with a sexual and physical ambivalence toward wellbeing in parallel. Who knew? In the most extreme cases, being objectified keeps females fed? Legitimately of course. I'm not suggesting a life lived on cum is a nutrition better than starving to death.
Fashion models have made a mockery of women of their offseason size and many other sizes. When not living to be on camera, the females were born to have a particular frame. The brain in the frame has an excessive loyalty to her fame that she will allow the public to endure unreasonable envy; the waif is a face of shame. She's the idol for industry: generic Adam Venits, Ed Westwicks, and Weinsteins want her for coerced female. A puny sex object I can't at all suggest Weinstein&Co effect the fashion industry. A lobby or more is out there that are and have legal liability for endangered minors and onsite work abuse.. Back to the puny sex object: We're talking about the ease of intimidation and making an ideal of her miniscule frame as a supermodel of sex symbols. And smaller still. She goes along with it; She feels important with little effort except long hours, smirking and getting dressed. Women who live like Barbie dolls. Except; I can't call living at the whim of hair dressers, seamstresses and cosmetics techs personal growth at all. Toxically pampered adults are what fashion models seek employment.For reward, become industry loyal liars.
In Protection of their fame, we all read the same excuses in the interviews. Regulation can't happen because the Body Mass Index is unreliable, they claim Did you know that's a lie? In detecting underweight pathology the the Body Mass Index is absolutely appropriate. The Body Mass Index Scale errs only in athletic hypertrophy. It can't guess if excessive mass is from fat or muscle if a persona is of a conditioned state with sufficient strength. A fashion model determined normal or underweight is likely still to have under conditioned her muscular strength. The role of traditional classism mocks a strong female. Being strong and having tone are two separate matters. A distorted concept of waif is as distant to healthy fit female as strongman is from male pornstar or male runway model. We're not talking about body building at all. Having a sixpack abs and good muscular definition says nothing about cardio endurance, functional strength or proprioreceptive balance. All three factors make for a good preparation toward competition and survival. No, what we see to be called models are very small specimens of people that require a minimum of resistance exercise for the tone they have'. Good tone under ectomorph low adiposity looks more impressive than the work put into it. But will it save his core in a car accident?
With the designers, these models are the industry's skeletons from the closet. A small body with small muscles will have noticeable yet limited small results. Males of the actual mesomorph and endo mesomorph ( powerlifting) are very big but they don't have lasting tone beyond a week. The methods to achieve that tone are askew from fitness eating and conditioning especially. Most of the people seeking fitness advice are broken people in their goals. They want an athletes' respect before knowing to do the work of merely the active adult promised no assurance of professional sports aspirations.
Models represent a broken truth with advertising health. They aren't it. Media doesn't sell fitness; They sell sex from what was believed a harlequin novel physique. The large burly barbarian soon became a more realistic size, and beyond reasonably anatomical. Remember, our first photographs of what sexual men and women looked like were distorted by the artists illustration. Because of the artists of the model these days, womens and mens senses of normal fitness are still inaccurately portrayed in the wants of the camera. Magazine covers and any other body in a photograph specialize conditioning as a model. Ss specialized as a body builder for different reasons. As specialized as a downhill mogul skier doing standing vertical box jumps and sprints up stadium stairs. If a fashion model cared about the masochistic effort she put into a runway show, a sensible female with values would be training for marathons some other sport and at least able to fuel fully each day. We see the corrupt gamble of fame without the competition for functional skill. Walking in a straight line with a cold pout is dimwittery. Life cannot be lived in front of the camera as an ideal. The public are being lied to.
The fashion model's body as prepared for the photographer is only sustainable for days and hours. It's not a daily sustainable body even for the very smallest and leanest of body types. To say otherwise is at most a prospecter of an unreasonable disciplined regiment likely to fail eventually. Definitely more than a young person self identifying a fashionista can manage without advanced study in physiology and biochemistry. Remember, the real miracle stories are driven by compensation.An unusual unhealthy brain chemistry. Active people are active because of their brain reward system. Lazy on the outside starts with lazy on the inside. The fat brain is a primary affliction slowing weightloss and weightloss can only remain a goal until such time as an active lifestyle is fulfilled going through the motions til a fit weight. Then starts training or personal dissatisfaction in the truthful letdown.
In short if there is a point of prospecting a body sculpting supplement for profitable venture, I would expect the entrepreneur would eventually be arrested. The temptations to dabble in modified methamphetamine derivatives and steroids would run the gamut of possession with intent to deliver charges to practicing medicine without a license from a motel room loaded with synthol-plus in syringes. The quest to make money becomes a desperate need of money during long searches. Desperation sacrifices ethics and without ethics a freelancer takes advantage of any sucker for better or worse. Habits of easy money die hard even among the best of downtrodden researchers.
An inactive United States government has allowed antidepressant/anxiolytic sales, ambiguous sport supplements , suicide risks , unvetted child endangerment in fashion media, ambivalence of New York state's ill functioning labor department and completely unconcerned with the ongoing pharmaceutical pollution. Such antidepressants leaving 28-37 % of females enter the water table after excreted from the body resulting in triggered autism genes in frogs and sterility in fish. To purposely alarm you: those frogs and fish are very much the embryo stages that anti abortion zealots honk about while passing Planned Parenthood clinics. I'm not saying some antidepressants aren't necessary. Causing their need with a deadbeat OSHA, NIOSH, CDC, and private sector's invalid CFDA indoctrinating children to fraudulent fashion images is gross negligence. The United States government has been deliberately void of ethics since 1998 in the regulation of the fashion model industry.
The Body mass index is appropriate for regulating fashion with the additional caveat of restricting the waif from industry as a liability of her size to be convinced of loyal industry silence. Cara Delevingne knows all about that. By my evaluation 19.2 BMI is the only sufficient low limit at a frame size of US 8. Since we haven't seen OSHA make a move on regulating the fashion industry, we know that Dorothy Dougherty either doesn't know anything about current topics or has her hands tied by congress or the president. Since either branch doing something would evidence a competent government, both parties need to be sorted out. Obama was useless on the matter and so was GW Bush and Clinton.. I'd certainly eject Bob Casey and Pat Toomey. I know those two have no interest in legitimate incumbent clout. Bob Casey has been stagnant since I called on him in 2007. Ask him how much effort his staff put forth researching OSHA and the regulation of fashion model anorexia from February 2014 to July. He didn't even have his secretary's file a GAO research request.
The Executive branch defends anorexic fashion ideology. Neither David Michaels or Edwin Foulke Jr moved on it. Infact. David Michaels wouldn't respond to me at all. How about that? Hey, well, inturn , my turn of disrespect on the united states government and the parties within calls to exempts the entirety of Pennsylvania and Oregon from federal income taxes for ten years. To be subsidized by the democrats and republican House and Senate reelection funds. Don't waste my 10 years, us gov. Disrespect will follow promptly. My disrespect will rewrite the flag. My title has been robbed at the time before France's regulation to put United States in the Free World leader role it taunts now emptily. There's no leaders in that government; Pray do Jong Un cull the garbage in congress dancing about their sugar plums and incumbency dreams for all they only serve themselves. Whether a healthcare bill could come from Democrats or not, they're a compromised source too stupid to know not to involve republicans. Conservatives can't be salvaged and certainly not while the need for single payer was the only legitimate option. Lets look toward today.
Trump wants America to be great again. Ok, Regulate fashion immediately per my regulations. Regulate fashion because at a much earlier age this Donald Trump already knew fashion modeling was dangerous for Ivanka. In cowardice or favor he refused to damn the couture gay designers at the same time he damned transgender Americans in the military. What is the protection purpose boundary here with anorexia? Its Obvious: the Deliberate oppression of female health with negligent nonfeasance to eliminate a domestic and foreign threat in textile consumerism.
Big Macy's and Nordstrom's Lobby has a big endangerment-of-minors class action lawsuit whether intending to speak up for themselves or not. France's snail is cooked whether they got to regulation before United States or not. Dr Bryn Austin and Katherine Record may be my cohorts of demanding reasonability. They aren't up to being my peers I won't accept merely copy and pasting France's late and ineffective regulation. The models aren't only being hired as undersized. They're being coaxed to remain and become undersized. Haute Couture and any other form of disordered eating or exercise addiction in fashion is the vision of the designer. It's his dysmorphia. Anorexia can occur for other reasons such as over strict-abusive guardianships, distrust, and over religious parenting. In cases where the minor or young adult doesn't have a sense of secure habitat, she might opt to stop eating. Sexual abuse can cause anorexia and concurrent depression. We have to consider in each case of anorexia nervosa a coresident matter of Narcissist Personality Disorder and Stimulant addiction issues before all else. Without prejudice this differs with Dr. Austin and Katherine Record. They might presume a nonvictim blaming course of approach with statistics presuming a probability of rape or family abuse.
What is fashion modeling but a pageant. The methods of body modification are as old as the corset but the result is still anti anatomical health. Mothers with unhealthy perspectives of body perfection cause eating disorders in their daughters surrounding the pageant circuit. One girl was fed tapeworm eggs by her mother, in Mexico, to cause her to lose weight. The hospital staff delivered all her babies despite finding none of them were human and the pregnancy was a bad case of constipation.
In no way am I saying fashion causes all cases of disordered eating. What Is being charged is in the past 40+ years fashion media and fashion models have engaged in unhealthy behavior and delivered recommendations in interviews for any reader and especially minors to expect of a fictional body. Why would the model lie to her fans? That so not nice.
Coin a term "Pretty Little Liars" for prime time , and I retort. Pretty? Couture models and Victoria Secret Angels? On the inside: ugly enough to put a bag on their head and banish from the universe. Expect the same from Las Vegas showgirls vying for top dancer. Prostitutes and well dressed couch surfers short on appetite for intellectual work or its tedious lessons of modesty till and after success. Where competition and vanity intersect, you'll find damaged goods overwrapped.
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Michael Bench is an author, athlete, and researcher actively staying abreast of
case law of Gender Anthropology and Sports Medicine.//
(forward to editor)
Dear editor, enclosed is a sour editorial by a premier exercise physiologist demanding the heads of the most recent three
OSHA directors, Elaine Chao , and George Washington University's Milken School for not pressuring David Michaels to promptly
invest time regulation at the time France addressed fashion model thinness. At this time.The parity of France's Ministry of Health would be
The US Health and Human services Department Secretary. Former Secretary Price did not respond to me nor has OSHA secretary Dorothy Dougherty since April. During the Obama administration, NIOSH, GAO, New York Department of Health, New York Department of Labor, Pennsylvania FBI , Governor Wolf , Pennsylvania, AG Kathleen Kane's Office, Eric Schneiderman and Tom Perez made no effort to clarify if in doubt what regulations were being discussed. The matter of FBI being inept is telling of their own corruption. The Newark FBI were involved in addressing the Johnson and Johnson Morcellator case ; a cancer removal device that actually accidentally circulated cancerous material in the bloodstream after severing it from its original growth area. The FBI's refusal to address the fashion anorexia matter is a clear matter of New York and federal conservative politics allowed to abuse and profiteer on subtle womens abuse.
I consider by the text enclosed the United States government to be a dormant fixture while republicans and democrats prove incapable the basic functions of cabinet duty per the times at hand. I've been addressing OSHA since 2007. Obama's administration will be indicted for negligence for their victims of duty refusal are still victims as can be said of New York State. M Patricia Smith deliberate circumvented regulation of the fashion industry of 2009 and was promoted to US Labor Solicitor where such calls to regulate likewise were ignored. Without a doubt the terms of promotion rewarded an insider for the abuse of children and exploitation of their appeal to be called ' the next sex symbol' or analog in their superstar models shadow. M Bench
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