#but What do I do with them mashing two romance languages together

[midnightwind]

I really want to change my Crow Rook's name to fit being from Treviso more, but they really made Antiva a freak mash up of Italy and Spain and I simply do not know what to do with that

[readingsrantsrambles]

Taylor Swift and the Sad Dads

by Spencer Kornhaber

theatlantic.com

The indie-rock band The National has long served as a mascot for a certain type of guy: literary, self-effacing, mordantly cool. With cryptic lyrics and brooding instrumentation, the quintet of scruffy brothers and schoolmates from Ohio conveys the yearnings of the sensitive male psyche. The band’s lead singer, Matt Berninger, has a voice so doleful and deep that it seems to emanate from a cavern. His typical narrator is a wallflower pining for validation from the life of the party—the romantic swooning of a man in need of rescue.

In the mid-to-late aughts, as The National was gathering acclaim with darkly experimental albums, another artist was rising to prominence: Taylor Swift. On the surface, these two acts are starkly different. Where The National’s songwriting is impressionistic, Swift’s is diaristic—built on personal stories that typically forgo abstraction or even difficult metaphor. Where The National’s charisma lies in its mysteriousness, Swift earnestly says just what she means. The National is known for somber dude-rock; Swift found fame with anthems of heartbroken but upbeat young-womanhood. (In her 2012 hit “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together,” she even jabbed at pretentious guys who are obsessed with dude-rock, like the ex who ran off to listen to “some indie record that’s much cooler than mine.”) The National became the house band for a certain segment of Millennial yuppies; Swift became one of the biggest stars in the world.

Read: The National further complicates its sadness

So some listeners have been surprised to see the two emerge, in recent years, as close collaborators. After the pandemic interrupted Swift’s promotional plans for her 2019 album, Lover, she reached out to the multi-instrumentalist Aaron Dessner to help produce two new albums, Folklore and Evermore, the latter of which featured all five members of The National—whom she called her “favorite band”—in some capacity. The albums easily could have amounted to a credibility-chasing costume change: pop star goes coffee shop. Instead, they refreshed Swift’s style by pairing sophisticated, moody arrangements with a new lyrical approach. Rather than once again mine her own life for lyrics, she imagined fictional scenarios: a teenage love triangle, a murder conspiracy among friends, a romance between two con artists. Swift was availing herself of the freedoms, even imperatives, that men in rock and roll had long enjoyed—projecting moral ambiguity rather than wholesomeness and virtue.

Now it appears that Swift may have pushed the men of The National in new directions too. On the band’s latest album, First Two Pages of Frankenstein, out in April, Swift’s influence feels pervasive. It’s not just her voice, which she lends to the lilting track “The Alcott”; she seems to have taught them something about the mode of candid self-expression that she has mastered. In so doing, The National and Taylor Swift have become one of the unlikeliest and most productive synergies in contemporary music—the cross-pollination of a gloomy indie-rock fraternity and proudly sentimental, stadium-charming pop.

Murky, male-driven art rock tends to encourage the confession of flaws without hope for absolution. Think of Leonard Cohen in “Famous Blue Raincoat,” a self-lacerating mash note to the man who cuckolded him. Or take the mealymouthed misery of R.E.M.’s Michael Stipe on “Losing My Religion”: “Oh no, I’ve said too much / I haven’t said enough.” Like his predecessors, Berninger tends to use oblique, figurative language to evoke his own shame and humiliation. “I know you put in the hours to keep me in sunglasses,” he sang on “Secret Meeting” (2005), possibly alluding to the tears he’d shed over a lover and the ways he’d tried to hide them.

But in First Two Pages of Frankenstein, the songwriting is tighter and often brighter, and Berninger’s meanings are remarkably direct. On the hopeful-sounding “New Order T-Shirt,” Berninger collages images with his trademark flair, and then, atypically, explains himself in a chorus that Swift herself might have written: “I keep what I can of you / Split-second glimpses and snapshots and sounds.” Over the danceable beat of “Tropic Morning News,” Berninger even tells a tale about learning to share his inner life: “There’s nothing stopping me now / From saying all the painful parts out loud.”

The changes in style reflect a change in substance. Many old National songs are character studies of a morose, hapless man getting nurtured—or dumped—by a competent woman. The trope of wife or girlfriend as mothering savior looms perpetually, even as Berninger’s humor, grounded in the mundane realities of adult relationships, usually undercuts it. “Carin at the Liquor Store”—a 2017 track whose title refers to Berninger’s wife and lyrical co-writer, Carin Besser—sees him mocking his own abjection: “I was a worm, I was a creature … I was walking around like I was the one who found dead John Cheever.”Taylor Swift seems to have taught The National something about the mode of candid self-expression that she has mastered.

But if The National’s signature narrator used to be a lonely mope, here he’s no longer wallowing quite so helplessly. On the new album, Berninger sings about being useful to his romantic partners. In the gentle, kind closing track, “Send for Me,” he offers: “Send for me whenever wherever / Send for me I’ll come and get you.” Even the breakup songs are a bit rebalanced. The thundering “Eucalyptus,” for example, depicts a couple dividing their belongings. Listening to it is like watching a bout of arm wrestling that’s closely matched and oddly poignant. And on the plaintive ballad “Your Mind Is Not Your Friend,” he’s the one consoling someone whose interior world is—as has been the case for so many of The National’s past narrators—an “awful place.” The new lucidity of the lyrics thus has a constructive purpose. As Swift’s songs have always shown, reaching out to connect with others requires openhearted, straightforward communication—from her outright plea “Baby, just say yes” on the 2008 classic “Love Story” to her simple admission “I’m the problem, it’s me” on 2022’s “Anti-Hero.”

Berninger does seem a little bashful about now acting as a healer. On “Alien,” he wryly suggests, “I can be your nurse or something.” Nursing, as that “or something” acknowledges, is a role that our culture hasn’t exactly shown men how to play. Those who try, in music, tend to overshoot into messianic territory (see Coldplay’s “Fix You” or U2’s past few albums). In dialing back the misery and adding Swiftian uplift, the new album sometimes flirts with this kind of sappiness. One can almost imagine “Send for Me” as the first dance at a wedding or “Your Mind Is Not Your Friend” in a touching insurance ad.

Read: The real Taylor Swift would never

But the band guards against cheap inspirationalism by relying on the idiosyncrasies that have defined it all along. Its old motifs—romantic death and rebirth, sad saps saved by realists, drums that burst like flak cannons—now serve a new aim by acting as a reminder that empathy doesn’t come easily. Rescuing people can mean coaxing them to share how they really feel—and that process requires psychological struggle. On “Alien,” Berninger urges someone to “drop down out of the clouds you’re in.” A hint of conflict lurks in the line, acknowledging just how bracing such conversations can be. Real breakthroughs, these artists have shown in their work together, come from blunt and open exchange. As Swift and Berninger sing on “The Alcott”: “I tell you my problems / You tell me the truth … You tell me your problems / And I tell you the truth.”

This article appears in the May 2023 print edition with the headline “How Taylor Swift Infiltrated Dude Rock.”

[atlafan]

Je T’aime - One Shot

a/n: Bonsoir! I’m back on my French bullshit! Harry is the head chef at a five start restaurant, and he unfortunately has a new manager coming in: Ariel Bardin. They don’t start off on the right foot, and it just gets worse from there. How will they learn to work together? Read to find out! (not proofread) Support me here if you’re able! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY PLEASE REBLOG, DON’T JUST LIKE, REBLOG REBLOG REBLOG! LEAVE ME LITTLE NOTES IN THE TAGS, GIVE ME FEEDBACK! I’M BEGGING YALL PLEASE THROW A BITCH A BONE I DO THIS ALL FOR YOU!

Warnings: light soft dom/sub themes within the smut, hate fucking (light degradation, but not really???) lots of swearing, plenty of angst, and a tiny bit of fluff, mild choking

Words: 12.9K

Pairing: Harry Styles x OC (Ariel Bardin)

Managing a five-star restaurant was no easy task. Ariel had to make sure all of the schedules for the waitstaff were up to date, double check that the cleaning crew left everything spotless, and make sure those that came in early had set up the tables as beautiful as can be. There were many headaches that came with all of it: drama with the waitstaff, customers trying to get in without reservations, large parties that couldn’t be turned away because it was for someone famous – it’s what made the previous lead manager of Je T’aime quit. The owner, who lived far away, was not happy about this news since the previous lead manager had been there for years. So, he sent in the only person he trusted to get the job done – his daughter, Ariel Bardin.

Ariel was only twenty-seven, but she was honored when her father asked her to take over. She had plenty of experience in the food service industry, and she watched her father run the place for years. It was always her dream to manage Je T’aime, and now she finally had the chance. Being a lead manager meant giving up a lot of personal time, having to step in when the kitchen got busy, running food, and a lot more. Ariel was more than up to the task.

The head chef of the restaurant wasn’t so thrilled with the change in personnel, though. He had a good relationship with the previous manager in that the manager let him run the kitchen how he liked. Chef Harry had never met Ariel, but he had a feeling things would be a lot different. He was very particular, and ran a tight ship. He didn’t want someone else coming in and thinking they could take command. He knew he needed to get ahead of things. He had emailed her to see if she wanted to meet for dinner to discuss things before her first day, but she declined. Ariel appreciated the initiative, but she explained that she wanted to meet the entire kitchen crew at the same time. Harry was already annoyed that his efforts were thwarted.

Ariel was excited for her first day. She made sure to get a new pair of no slip grip shoes that weren’t totally ugly. She put on a pair of black slacks and paired it with a baby blue blouse. Lastly, she put her hair up in a cute ponytail, and put on a little eye makeup before heading out. She had requested a tasting at the restaurant before it opened for dinner, and she wanted to leave the cooks plenty of time to get their prepping done. She also wanted to get their early enough to set up her new office.

Before entering the restaurant, she takes a deep breath. She smiles and waves to the people setting up the dining tables as she makes her way towards the kitchen. She remembers being a little girl and going to work with her father. She loved it when he’d sit her up on one of the counters because the cooks would always let her taste test their latest creations. They figured if a child liked the cuisine, then adults would too. Ariel goes right to her new office, and smiles. Arthur had kept up the family photo of Ariel’s parents. Her mother was pregnant with her when they opened Je T’aime. In fact, her father named it that because Ariel’s mother was French, and her father learned the language just for her. Ariel’s mother passed a few years back, and it was pretty devastating. She was a wonderful woman, and Ariel always hoped to have a romance like theirs.

She snaps herself out of her thoughts, and starts taking out the things she brought with her from the box she was carrying. This was going to be a great day, she could feel it. She takes out a notepad and pen, and heads back out to the kitchen towards the chef’s office. She taps on the door frame when she sees two men sitting inside chatting.

“Hello?” She says to them, and they both turn in their chairs to look at her. “I’m Ariel, the new lead manager. Which one of you is Chef Harry?”

“That would be me.” Harry stands up to shake her hand.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. So, that makes you Chef Garrett, right?” She says to the other man.

“Correct, I’m the sous chef, it’s nice to meet you, Ariel.” He shakes her hand as well.

“Wonderful, is everything ready for the tasting? The menu’s changed a lot over the years, and I want to see if it needs anymore.”

“With all due respect,” Harry starts, “the menu’s more than perfect. It changes seasonally as is.” He crosses his arms.

“With all due respect, Chef, I don’t particularly care.” She smirks and crosses her own arms. “I’ve worked hard to get here, and my father finally trusts me to take care of this place. I’m not going to make him regret it. Now, if I like everything, then nothing will need to change. But I’ve got a couple of ideas I may like to try out, and you’ll have to deal with it when the time comes.” She smiles and leaves the office.

Harry and Garrett share a look, and follow her out. A few of the other cooks had already set up the plates for the tasting. Ariel greeted all of them warmly, and started tasting the food. She was impressed, for the most part, but she definitely had notes.

“These mashed potatoes could be whipped a bit more…possibly with more sour cream?” She says. “And this chicken…more seasoning could do it some good. The salmon is excellent, though, just delicious.”

“Chef Harry prepared that.” One of the cooks says, and Ariel looks back at Harry who had a smirk on his face.

Ariel narrows her eyes at him, and then turns her attention back to the food. She enjoyed the pasta dishes, but she makes a face when she gets to the steak frites.

“What…what are these?” Ariel asks as she points at the fries.

“French fries.” Garrett says.

“Mhm, yeah, they should be steak fries, freshly made. These look like they were frozen before.”

“Because they are.” Harry says. “They’re more cost effective. We season them after they’re fried, and they’re great for when kids come in.”

“Kids like steak fries just the same. I want fresh cut potatoes used. They’re more authentic. This isn’t a fast food restaurant. You already have to order potatoes for the mashed potatoes, right? I bet we’d get a discount if we order a larger quantity. We can talk it about it later.”

After tasting a few more things, and thanking the cooks, Ariel heads into the dining room to start greeting the waitstaff. Things felt a lot less hostile with them. Harry was fuming in his office with Garrett.

“It’s her first day and she already wants to change things! And the worst part is, she’s completely right about the bloody fries.” Harry huffs. “Steak fries would be ten times better!”

“Chill, Harry. She just needs to see how well you run things while it’s busy, and she’ll understand her place here. This is your kitchen.”  

“Right, good idea. Her real job is to manage the waitstaff.”

Ariel was on fire. It was a busy night because blackened salmon was the special. She was helping run food, and the waitstaff was extremely impressed. The previous manager rarely helped liked that. She was even running bread and water to tables, starting off orders, and helping seat. She even went behind the bar to help get drinks to tables, and help the bartenders catch up. It was a great first impression. She was exhausted by the time she got to sit in her office at the end of the night. She sat with the head hostess to go over the receipts before cutting her for the night. Her last task was to make sure the kitchen was closed down properly after locking up the safe.

“Ariel?” One of the cooks asks her as she steps out. “Would like anything for dinner before start to throw things away?”

“Throw things away?” She furrows her brows. “I have food at home, thank you, but don’t throw anything out. Surely we can start up a makeshift compost before getting a real one.”

“Oh, well, we don’t throw everything away, just-“

“Can you let me see all of the leftovers that usually get put in the trash?”

The cook nods, and she follows him. Harry was in his office checking over what the most popular orders of the night was, and getting some paperwork done. He notices Ariel speaking with Eddy, and he sighs. He gets up, and makes his way to where they are.

“Is there any particular reason your keeping Eddy from his sidework?” Harry asks her.

“I asked him to show me what usually gets thrown out. This could easily be donated or used for compost. I’ll be coming in early tomorrow to set up a new compost area, and I’ll be talking with the local food kitchens to see what they need. This is good food, and it shouldn’t be wasted.” She crosses her arms. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Why,” he sucks his teeth, “Come to my office when you’re done telling my staff what to do, we need to talk.” Harry turns on his heel and goes into his office, nearly slamming the door.

Ariel helps the kitchen and dish crew clean a few things up, earning herself even more brownie points, before going into Harry’s office. He doesn’t look up at her until she clears her throat.

“You wanted to talk?” She says.

“Yeah, have a seat.”

“I’d prefer to stand, thanks.”

Harry turns in his seat, and looks up at her.

“Are you and I going to have a problem?” He asks, standing up, towering over her, but she stands her ground.

“I don’t know, are we? Are you seriously going to tell me that you never thought of composting?”

“It’s expensive. We find other ways to stay green, though. You would have known that if you had gone to dinner with me. I could have told you everything you needed to know. But no, you blew me off, and decided to find every possible way to embarrass me and undermine me in front of my staff.”

“Look, Chef, I’m sorry if you feel disrespected, that wasn’t my intention. I just think a lot of changes need to be made. I spoke with the dining staff just the same, it wasn’t just your staff. This place means a lot to me, and I just want to make sure it’s being run well. I…I didn’t think a dinner would be appropriate for us.”

“Why? It’s not like I was asking you out on a date.” He scoffs.

“No, but I just assumed you were going to try to schmooze me or something, and I didn’t want to deal with it. Am I wrong in thinking you were going to try to work me over?”

“It wasn’t to work you over, but the last manager and I sort of had an understanding.”

“Which was what?”

“I do my thing, he does his, and we don’t get into each other’s hair.”

“Well, that’s not how this is going to work.” She gestures between the two of them. “I don’t want things getting hostile between us, for the sake of the staff. I didn’t think we’d be best friends or anything…but I was hoping we’d at least get along.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen. Not a great first impression.” He crosses his arms.

“Same could be said to you.” She scoffs. “If you start doing things better, then I won’t have a reason to talk to you. So, do better, Chef.” She looks him up and down, and then leaves his office.

Harry wanted to pull his hair out. This woman was going to make his life a living hell, he could feel it.

//

“What kind of a name is Ariel, anyways?” Garrett scoffs a week or so later. He was in charge of the new composter, and he wasn’t thrilled about it.

“I know! We her parents big fans of The Little Mermaid?” Harry chuckles.

“It’s French.” Ariel says, entering Harry’s office. “And it’s a family name. My grandmother’s name was Ariel, and my mother named me after her.” She looks at both of them and smirks. “And, Ariel just so happens to be my favorite Disney princess, so it’s an honor on many accounts.”

“Did you need something?” Garrett asks her.

“Yes, actually. I wanted to talk about Passover, it’s coming up and we need to talk about a kosher menu.”

“Seems like something for just the two of you to discuss.” Garrett says, and leaves quickly. Ariel takes his seat.

“A kosher menu, huh? Don’t you need a separate kitchen for that?”

“Not necessarily. I was just sort of thinking we could offer some different specials throughout the week.”

“Like what?”

“I’ve got a killer brisket recipe, we could offer a matzah ball soup too. There’s lots of stuff we could whip up. Oh! Macaroons would be good, and maybe some matzah bark as well. I’ve got recipes for all of it if you’re game.”

“When’s Passover?” He sighs and looks at the calendar on the wall.

“At the end of March, plenty of time to order what we need.”

“You know we do a brunch on Easter, right?”

“Yes, I’m aware.” She nods. “If we do for one, we should do for others.”

“If you email me the recipes, I can work on them.”

“Alright, I can do that. I ask that you don’t tweak them. They’re family recipes and I promise they’re golden.”

“One of our cooks is Jewish, he can work on them. I’ll be focused on the brunch food.”

“Oh…well, great, okay.” She stands up. “Thanks for hearing me out. I think a lot of our customers will be excited, and it’ll being good attention.”

“Listen, uh…I’m sorry about Garrett and I before. We were just-“

“Don’t.” She shakes her head. “I know you both don’t like me. I’m a bossy bitch that’s come in and made things difficult, I get it. This isn’t my first male-led restaurant that I’ve managed.”

“Hey, I’ve got no problem with women in charge.” Harry stands up. “You just came in like a bull.”

“Aw, would you have preferred if I pouted my lips and batted my eyes at you, and asked pretty please?” She pouts her lips and bats her eyes at him, making his mouth fall open. She smirks at him and shakes her head. “It’s too easy.” She laughs and leaves his office.

If he couldn’t stand her before, he definitely couldn’t stand her now.

//

It really pissed Harry off at how much the Passover food was liked. The restaurant had never been busier, getting completely booked with reservations from patrons that had never been before, but heard about the diverse specials. Then there was the Easter brunch. Ariel walked in with her hair half pulled up, and the rest of it flowing. She was wearing this gorgeous pastel pink blouse along with some navy slacks. She was dolled up for the holiday. She pumped up the staff during the pre-meal chat, and then she started running around with coffee carafes to help out the busy staff.

It was an elegant brunch, and Harry was also dressed up because the head chef usually went around the dining room checking in with the patrons. He wore his nicest chef’s jacket, and made sure his hair wasn’t too out of sorts before he went into the dining room. Ariel had never seen him be so personable. He was genuinely laughing with people at their tables, she couldn’t believe it.

Ariel was tired, but her customers were happy, and she got to go home around four, which was a blessing in disguise. She couldn’t wait to get home and flop herself onto her bed. She just needed to put the cash in the safe, and check the receipts.

“Is there any lobster mac ‘n cheese left?” She asks as she walks over to the line.

“Got a pan of it right here.” Eddy smiles at her.

“Amazing, I’ve been looking forward to it all day.” She scoops some into a to-go container, and adds a couple of other things she wanted.

“Why is that you always like the food I make the best?” Harry smirks as he also fills up a container for himself.  

“I’m not too big to admit you’re a very talented chef, Harry.” She says and looks at him. “It’s your personality that could use some work, Happy Easter.” She smiles at him. “Great job today, everyone!” She exclaims before making her way back to her office.

“Man, did you see Ari’s tits in that shirt today?” One cook says to another.

“Her tits? I was too busy sneaking a peek at that ass of hers. Wouldn’t mind tapping it.”

“Oi.” Harry says to them. “None of that, alright? It’s rude.”

“C’mon, Chef.” One of the cooks says. “I know you don’t like her, but even you can admit she’s hot.”

“Do you all want to get out of here on time to see your families?!” Harry shouts. “Finish cleaning up.” He huffs, and goes back to his own office.

“He’s not wrong.” Garrett says to the cooks. “Don’t be disrespectful.”

“Yeah.” Eddy chimes in. “Don’t think your girlfriends would appreciate it very much if they knew you were talking about another woman like that.”

Harry was about to head out for the day. He was going to go home and cuddle up with cat, Luna, and veg out. He walks by Ariel’s office, and he stops short. He sees her sitting with her face in her hands. He looks around behind him, they were the last two people there.

“Hey, are you alright?” He says as he opens the door, and she jumps in her chair a bit, obviously startled.

“Yeah.” She wipes under eyes. “I’m fine, why?”

“You just…were you crying?”

“No, don’t be silly.” She wipes under eyes again. “I’m just a little sweaty, I ran around a ton today.”

“How was the mac ‘n cheese?”

“I haven’t eaten it yet, I’m bringing it home…”

“When are you headed out?”

“Soon.”

“I can wait for you, if you want…”

“I’m all set.”

“Ariel, if something’s wrong-“

“Nothing’s wrong! Go home, Harry! I��m just finishing some things up.”

“You know something, you are a bitch.” He puts his hands on his hips. “I was just trying to be nice, and you have to be so nasty about it!”

“Right, because I need a fuckwad like you checking on me.” She rolls her eyes. She takes her leftovers and puts them in the trash.

“What are you doing?!”

“I’ve lost my appetite.” She says, standing up, grabbing her purse, and brushing by him on her way out.

Harry was shocked Ariel hadn’t turned his hair white with how much she stressed him out. The interaction they had pissed him off to no end. He had defended her, told his staff not to talk about her a certain way. Then, when he sees her in distress, she’s as ungrateful as ever. He tried calming down in the shower, but that didn’t work. He tried watching TV with Luna, but he just wanted to know what she had been so upset about in the first place.

He takes out his phone, and searches her on Facebook. He figured she must have one, if not he would search Instagram. He rolls his eyes when he sees how gorgeous she looks in her profile picture. She had most of her privacy settings on, but his eyes widen when he sees her tagged in a post. It was written in French.

Il y a quinze ans aujourd'hui, nous avons perdu notre Nana Ariel. Comme elle nous manque tellement, et nos étés avec elle sur les plages françaises.

Harry only understood a few words, so he taps the translate button: Fifteen years ago today, we lost our Nana Ariel. How we miss her so, and our summers with her on the French beaches. He furrows his eyebrows at the photos. It must have been a cousin that tagged Ariel. Her nana looked like a lovely woman.

“Shit.” Harry sighs. Ariel was probably putting on a brave face all day. He knew her mother had passed, but he wasn’t sure about her grandmother. Her female figures were gone, and he called her a bitch to her face. He felt terrible. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Harry gets off his couch and goes into his kitchen. An hour or so later, he’s driving to Ariel’s house to deliver a fresh lobster mac n’ cheese. He was lucky he knew her address. She lived in a quaint neighborhood. He pulls up out front, and goes up to her door, ringing the bell. After a few moments she opens the door. She was in a long robe, and slippers. Her hair was up in a bun on the top of her head.

“Harry?”

“Here, feel better.” He practically shoves the casserole dish into her arms. “And…I’m sorry I said that to you, okay?”

“What is this?”

“Lobster mac n’ cheese. You threw yours out because I was being an ass…but to be fair you snapped at me first.”

“What made you do this?”

“The Easter bunny came to me in a dream, alright? It doesn’t matter, just take it and eat it. M’sure you don’t feel like cooking after such a long day.”

“Well, you’re right.” She raises an eyebrow at him. “I’ll take it, thank you. I shouldn’t have been so short with you.”

“I shouldn’t have tried to pry. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

“Yeah….” She almost invited him to have some with her, but as nice as the gesture was, she didn’t really feel like spending anymore time with him today. So she lets him leave.

Harry was back on his couch in no time with Luna, feeling much better than he did before. He feels his phone buzz, and he looks down to check his notifications.

Ariel Bardin: I don’t know what makes me more furious, the fact that you’re an incredible cook, or the fact that such a simple dish could make me feel ten times better

Harry smirks down at the message. This didn’t change anything between the two of them, but Harry felt a little better knowing there was a bit of a common ground between them now. They didn’t have to like one another, but maybe there would be a bit more respect.

//

There was a respect between them, but the two still bickered and argued and made things difficult for one another. He’d call her a spoiled brat, and she’d call him a fat headed fuck, it was just their thing. No one in the kitchen seemed to mind, especially because if Harry was yelling at her, then he wasn’t yelling at them. Garrett had warmed up to Ariel considerably over the last few months. He was starting to see that she really did mean well, and over time the changes she made were for the better.

A lot of people understood why Ariel and Harry butted heads so much. They both had dominant personalities, and kitchens were hot. Usually one of them would go into the walk-in fridge, and come out much more cooled down. As the summer months started, it just got worse.

“I’m not sending out wilted lettuce!” Harry screamed at her.

“It’s not wilted!” Ariel screamed back.

“Did you go to culinary school?! You’re not the fucking expert, I am!”

“So, you’re just going to chuck perfectly good lettuce because you think it’s wilted! Put your fucking glasses on!”

“Enough!” Garrett yells. “We’ll double check the lettuce and make sure none of the dingier looking pieces get sent out. Take a break, the kids are getting scared.” He was referring to the kitchen staff, and to the few waitstaff that were in the kitchen.

They both growl and walk away from one another. They stayed away from each other for the rest of the night. Ariel was there late catching up on some paperwork. She jumped when she heard something fall on the ground. She thought everyone had gone home for the night. When she goes out to the kitchen to see Harry, she sighs with relief.

“Scared the shit out of me, what are you still doing here?” She storms over to him.

“Prepping the dinner roll dough so it’s ready to go for tomorrow. It’s been too hot to make it in the morning. The prep cooks can just come in and use the ovens while it’s still cool if the dough’s already set and proofed.” He says as he continues to knead the dough on the counter.

“Why not have someone else do it?”

“Why should I make someone else stay late?” He scoffs.

“Well…here, I’ll get an apron so I can help.”

“I’m all set.”

“Don’t be silly, it’ll help you get out of here faster.”

“What do you care about that?”

“God, you’re so stubborn.” She goes to wash her hands, and steps over to the dough, but he swats her hand away when she goes to reach for it.

“Go home, Ariel.”

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“You! You’re my fucking problem! Cooking is supposed to be relaxing, this is my me time, and you’re ruining it!”

“Well, excuse me for offering to help!”

“I don’t need your help!” He slams a fist down on the counter, causing flour to splatter onto her chest and face. “Oops.” He smirks.

Ariel wipes her face off, gathers a bit of flour, and flicks it into Harry’s face. He takes a deep breath and looks at her.

“Oops.” She says in the same mocking tone he had.

“You know, for someone who hates wasting food, I’d think you’d be more careful.” He says, wiping his face off. “It was an accident when I did it.”

“Oh well.” She shrugs.

“You,” he starts walking towards her, backing her up to the opposite counter, “are one of the most infuriating people I have ever met.” They were practically chest to chest. She could feel his breath fanning over her face. “I wish you never started working here.”

“You know what they say, can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.” She says, looking up at him with a searing gaze.

“It’s my kitchen, you get out.”

“Make me.”

Harry’s eyes widen, and his nostrils flare. He was about ready to boil over. He’s not sure what comes over him, but his flour covered hands reach up to cup her cheeks, and he leans down to kiss her roughly, pressing her further against the counter. She gasps as he does it, but she doesn’t fight him. She doesn’t push him away, she doesn’t do a thing to get him to stop. In fact, she reaches to tug at his shirt so he could be even closer to her. She could taste the mint from his gum, and his lips were insanely soft. He breaks the kiss first, but doesn’t move her hands from her face.

She opens her mouth to speak, possibly to question him on why he kissed her, but she doesn’t get the chance because he’s kissing her again, this time licking into her mouth. She pushes against him, backing him up to the opposite counter, and he grunts against her. Her arms move to wrap around his neck, and her fingers tug at his hair. Just as she was sucking on his tongue, he shoves her up against a nearby wall, and lifts her up. She wraps her legs around his waist, and he carries her over to a counter to sit her on.

Their lips hadn’t parted, and they both needed air, but neither could stop. Harry kisses sloppily towards her neck, and she bites on her bottom lip to suppress a whimper. She reaches down to untie the apron he had on, and she tugs it off. His hands work to undo her pants just as he bites down on the crook of her neck, making her gasp.

“Lift your hips ups.” He says into her ear before nibbling onto her lobe. She does as he says so he can tug her pants down. He places his hands on her thighs, and scratches his nails down them before looking at her. “You want this?” She nods yes at him. “Need you to actually say it. I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want.”

“I want it.” Her cheeks flush. “Happy now?”

“Very.” He growls, and bites down on her bottom lip before letting it snap back. He reaches between her legs, and he groans. “You’re soaked, did yelling at me rile you up?”

“No.” She blushes, and then tugs at his hair. “Stop talking before I change my mind.”

He tugs her panties to the side so he can get a real feel for how wet she is. He plunges two fingers inside of her, and her mouth falls open. Her head rolls back as he pumps them in and out of her.

“Christ, when was the last time someone fucked you?” He grunts. “You’re so tight.”

“Harry, please, shut the fuck up.” She grits her teeth and reaches for the button on his pants.

“Only cause you said please.” He smirks, and she flicks his forehead.

He sucks his teeth and reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, pulling out a condom. She rolls her eyes at the fact that he’s one of those guys that kept a condom in his wallet, but she wasn’t going to complain too much. She was glad he had one. He takes himself out of his pants, getting them down just enough, and rolls the condom on. He looks at her, just to make sure one more time that it was alright and she nods. He splays his hands on her back, pulling her closer as he pushes inside.

“Fucking, shit.” He grunts.

“Try to last longer than a minute there, sport.” She says, trying desperately not to wince at the stretch he was giving her.

“God, I fucking hate you so much.” He says as he starts to thrust in and out of her. She grips his shoulders to hold onto him.

“The feeling’s, ngh, mutual.” She bites down into his shoulder to suppress her moans, but he yanks her head back by her ponytail.

“If I’m gonna fuck you, you’re gonna let out every single little sound, do you understand?”

“You really like telling me what to do.” She grunts.

“And you’re shit at listening.”

“So are you!”

“Weren’t you just telling me to shut up?! Take your own fucking advice!”

She lets out an exasperated noise, and crashes her mouth back to his. He grips her hips as he pounds into her. Her legs wrap tighter around him to get him even closer. They’re both moaning into the other’s mouths. One of his hands leaves her hip, and he brings it over to rub at her clit. She whimpers, and starts panting. He nips at her lips, and works his way back to her neck.

“Fuck, ugh, that’s it.” She mewls. “I’m close, don’t stop.”

“Can feel you squeezing me, like the way I feel?” He licks up her neck back to her ear, and then slots his mouth over hers, not even giving her a chance to answer him before she’s crying out.

She lets her body rest against his as he picks up the pace. He was close himself, but he was trying to savor how good she felt. She was soaked between her legs because of him. He’d never let her live this down. A few more thrusts, and he’s spilling into the condom.

He rests his forehead against hers for a few moments as he catches his breath. He pulls out of her, and tugs her panties back into place before helping her off the counter. They both wordlessly work to get their clothes back on properly.

“So, uh, do you really not want help with the dough?” She asks, smoothing some hair away from her face.

“No, it shouldn’t take me too much longer…thank you.” He chews on his bottom lip. “Why don’t you wait, though, I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Sure…I was in the middle of some paperwork anyways. Just come get me when you’re done.”

Harry nods and goes to wash his hands before getting back to what he was doing. Ariel makes her way to the bathroom to properly clean herself up. They walk to the parking lot together later in silence. He makes sure her car starts before driving off and heading home to Luna.

//

Work was…awkward after that. Everyone was confused because the kitchen had never been more quiet. Ariel had mostly kept to herself and if she had something to say, she was less brash. Harry was the same towards her.

“Do you think we could add pudding pie to the summer dessert menu?” She asks him. “Like an Oreo thing?”

“Um, sure, yeah…should be easy enough to work into the rotation.” He says. “Good, uh, good suggestion.” He swallows.

“Thanks, Chef.” She nods and walks away from him.

“Dude, not that I’m complaining, but what’s up with you two?” Garrett whispers to him as they both work to chop vegetables.

“Nothing.” Harry shrugs a shoulder. “We’ve just…reached an understanding, is all. We, uh, hashed things out a week or so ago.” He clears his throat. “Just focus on the your beets for the borsht. I need to get started on that chilled melon soup.”

Harry heads into the walk-in fridge to grab the cantaloupe he had already cut up to make the soup with. He was essentially making a creamy smoothie, but this was one of their summer best sellers. He stops short when he sees Ariel trying to reach for something on the top shelf.

“Need a hand?” He asks, and it startles her.

“Y-yeah, could you get the, uh, shredded Brussels down for me?”

Harry nods and reaches above her to grab the pan. He hands it to her, and she thanks him before making her way towards the door.

“Ariel?”

“Yes?”

“How…how have you been since-“

“We can’t talk about it now.” She shakes her head. “Find me later if you want.”

And that’s what he does. At the end of the night, Harry goes into Ariel’s office and sits down at the spare chair she had.

“So…what’s up?” She asks him.

“I just wanted to see how you were since we, you know…” He looks away from her for a moment. “We haven’t talked about it.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to.” She shrugs. “It’s really not that big of a deal, it was a heat of the moment thing.”

“Yeah.” He swallows. “Nothing more to it than that. I can’t help but notice that things have been a tad more civil between us over the last week.”

“I just haven’t wanted to make waves, I guess. Sort of hard to yell at the guy that made me come as hard as I did.” She says shyly, and he smiles.

“Glad I could finally be of some use to you.” He smirks.

“Don’t get too cocky. I have things at home that make me feel even better.” She smirks and his face falls.

“It was good, though, right?”

“Yeah…nice way to get some frustration out.”

“I think…I think that’s how we make things work here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, think of how peaceful everything’s been this week with us being nicer to each other. I think when we’re starting to get on each other’s nerves we should just fuck because clearly talking shit out doesn’t work too well.”

“Are you asking me to be your fuck buddy?”

“The word buddy implies that we’re friends, and we’re not. I still can’t stand you, Ariel.”

“Likewise.”

“But you’ve got a tight cunt that I wouldn’t mind fucking into again, so what do you say?”

“Harry, this is a five star restaurant. We can’t just fuck in the kitchen every time we get on each other’s nerves. That’s a major health code violation.”

“So we wait.” He shrugs. “We both have cars and houses. Lots of places to let out our frustrations.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You do that.” He says, and stands up to leave.

“You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

“Might have mentioned to my cat, but only because she was mad at me for getting home so late. I’m not one for bragging about intimate details.”

“Good.” She nods. “Thank you.”

Harry leaves her office and she sighs heavily. She wasn’t expecting the conversation to go that way at all. Ariel thought for sure Harry was going to say that it was a mistake and it never should have happened, but he didn’t. He wanted to fuck her s again, he said it himself. And he wasn’t wrong, the kitchen had been a much happier place to be over the last week. The only thing was, she didn’t know if she wanted to give into his request so easily. He was the one who admitted to wanting to do it again, not her. The ball was totally in her court! She also wasn’t too sure how smart it would be to start fucking her chef on the regular. It could do more harm than good.

//

“What do you mean you let a party of fifteen come in?!” Harry shouts at Ariel, who was now putting on an apron and gloves to help the cooks out.

“You heard me! We can either waste time arguing about it, or we can get to preparing their meals! It’s not you who’s gonna have to stay late, it’s me and my dining staff.”

“Why would you let a group of fifteen come in right before closing?!”

“Because they paid up front with cash for four bottles of $500 wine!”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit. They already gave us their order, so we just need to get everything out to them, and then everyone can clean up. Let’s move!”

Harry sighs heavily, but does as she says. He and Garrett get to work on the entrees while the cooks work with Ariel on the appetizers. She runs the food out so she can help out her dining staff that were trying to wrap up their sidework. Two hours after closing, the large party left, and luckily they left a huge tip. They apologized over and over again about coming in so late. Apparently they were in a production for something, and it closed so they wanted to celebrate. Ariel assured them it was fine. She sighs when she’s finally able to go back into her office. She still needed to go over all the receipts for the night.

“Need any help with that? I know your hostess usually gets this done with you…” Harry says as he walks into her office.

“No, thank you.” She says without looking at him. “You can go, I don’t need you to wait for me.”

“You’re such a hypocrite.” He shakes his head and sits down. “You tried to force yourself two weeks ago into helping me make some bread dough, and now here I am offering up some help and you won’t take it.”

“Guess the shoe’s on the other foot.” She still wouldn’t look at him, so he reaches forward to grab her chin, and turns her head in his direction.

“You’re, quite literally, the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah? Then why are you trying to fuck me right now?”

“Who said I was trying to do that?” He says, letting go of her and sitting back in the chair.

“Please, it’s so obvious.” She scoffs. “We’re the last two people here, you’re coming in here offering help. What’s wrong, hm? None of my waitresses wanted to suck you off?” She pouts at him, and his face hardens.

“I have never done anything like that with a member of the dining staff.”  

“No? They sure talk about you like you have.”

“You sound a little jealous.” He smirks.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She deadpans.

“You know, when my cooks make crude remarks about you, I tell them it’s wrong and to stop. Do you even try to defend me when you hear them talking out there?”

“Sure I do, I tell them that this neither the time nor the place for any of that, and that they should have more respect for you. One of the bartenders, Jess, she seems to have a thing for you. Her eyes are glued to you every time you come out into the dining room. Why not go be her fuck buddy?”

“Because I don’t want to fuck her.”

“And you want to fuck me?” He nods yes at her. “Why?”

“Because despite how much I can’t stand you, it was a good fuck and I’d like to do it again. This isn’t news, we’ve talked about this already.”

“I smell like food.” She mutters as she gets back to checking the receipts.

“So do I.”

“So, go home and shower and meet me at my place in a little while. I’ll text you when I’m ready.” She looks at him. “Go feed your cat or whatever, I’m sure she’s missing you.”

Harry tries his best to bite back the smug look that was growing on his face. Wordlessly, he stands up and leaves her office. Ariel shakes her head and continues with their work.

“Far too easy.” She says to herself with a smirk.

//

Harry didn’t end up at Ariel’s place until nearly midnight. It took her a while to finish things up at work, and then she wanted to shower so she didn’t smell like food anymore. Her rings her doorbell, and she opens it wearing the same robe she had been wearing the first time he showed up at her place, only this time she wasn’t wearing her cute little slippers, and her eyes weren’t puffy from crying. She doesn’t say anything to him, she just steps aside to let him in.

He doesn’t look around, he doesn’t compliment her place, all he does is kick his sneakers off, cup her jaw, and shove her up against the wall. His mouth crashes to hers, and she sinks into it. She almost wanted to sigh with relief. It was amazing how simply kissing someone could make you forget all your troubles. She tugs him closer to her, and his hands brush down her body to lift her up.

“Where do you want it?” He breathes as she wraps her limbs around him.

“Bedroom, upstairs.” She says before kissing on his neck.

He grunts as he finds his way to the staircase, and carries her up. Of course, he makes a few pit stops to kiss her, smoosh her up against the wall and lick into her mouth. When he finally does make it to her room, he practically tosses her on the bed. He starts to rid himself of his clothes while she sits and watches.

“Aren’t you going to take yours off?” He asks after getting his shirt off.

“M’only wearing this.” She shrugs. “Thought you might like to take it off yourself.”

“Stand up.” He tells her and she does so, walking over to him.

His hands reach for the tie on her robe, and he undoes it. He pushes it off her shoulders, and licks his lips when he sees her naked body, the robe pooling at her feet. He wraps his arms around her waist, and pulls her close so he can kiss on her chest. He licks between the valley of her breasts before pulling one of her nipples into his mouth with his teeth. He sucks on it harshly, eliciting a soft moan from her. He walks them back towards the bed, and he pushes her onto it. He climbs on top of her, and goes back to kissing on her chest. He works his way down her stomach, nipping where he pleases, before he’s able to lay comfortably between her legs.

“You…you don’t have to.” She says to him, and he looks up at with a confused look.

“I know I don’t, I want to. Didn’t get to do it last time.” He rubs circles into her thighs with his thumbs. “Do you not want me to?”

“No, I just…I don’t know, it’s sort of intimate for what this is.” She chews on her already swollen bottom lip. “You really want to?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t wanna suck your dick.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Okay.” She takes a deep breath and opens her legs for him.

He uses his thumbs to open her folds up a little more so he could better see what he was working with. Ariel always hated this part when a guy would go down on her. She always felt like she was at the doctor’s office getting a checkup. She stopped feeling like that the second his tongue licked around her clit. She sits up on her elbows to watch him. He continues to lick around her clit, watching it get a little more swollen each time and then he sucks on it.

“Ah!” She gasps, reaching for his hair to tug on.

His fingers soon replace his tongue on her clit so he lick around where she’s wet for him. He moans into her after he finally gets a real taste. She smelled sort of like cocoa butter, he assumed she moisturized after her shower. For a woman that couldn’t stand him, she sure was considerate. He licks into her, and she squeaks out a noise that she had never heard come out of her own mouth. Ariel tries to wrack her brain, but she can’t seem to recall a time where a guy had ever actually licked into her before, teasing her in such a way with their tongue. Harry was licking and sucking on her while his fingers were working magic on her clit. She had tears in her eyes from how good it felt. Her thighs were squeezing against his head, and her heels were digging into his back, but he didn’t care. He was too caught up with fucking her with his tongue.

“Shit, I…fuck, Harry, I’m gonna come!” She warns him, and all he does his moan into her, encouraging her to do so.

She tugs on his hair a little harder as she cries out, back arching and head rolling back. He sits up and licks his lips. She was speechless, she had no words. He reaches into his back pocket to pull out a condom before standing up to get his pants off. His cock slaps back against his stomach once it’s free, and her eyes widen. His tip was already leaking.

“You got that turned on just from eating me out?” She wasn’t being condescending, in fact, her tone was full of shock.

“Yeah.” He says as he rolls the condom on. He knees back onto the bed, and shuffles to sit up against the headboard. “Since you’re not gonna suck me off, the least you could do is ride me for a bit.”

Her mouth falls open at that. She wasn’t quite sure how he expected her to have the energy to ride his dick after what he just did to her. She furrows her brows, and moves herself onto his lap. When they make eye contact, she realizes that she doesn’t want to look at him, so she turns herself around to ride him reverse. She guides him in, and sighs into her ear once he hits bottom. She takes a moment just to get reacquainted with him before she starts to swivel her hips in little circles. He gets an arm around her, securing it between her breasts, and gripping her shoulder to help keep her close and steady. He nibbles on her earlobe, and she whimpers. He carefully thrusts up into her as she grinds on him. She couldn’t believe the restraint he had. Most guys would thrust up too far when she was on top and it would hurt. But this…this felt heavenly. She almost hated him more because he was so good.

His mouth moves to the crook of her neck, sucking a bruise into her skin. Her head rolls back, and his other hand snakes around to rub at her clit. She picks up the pace, bouncing a little more on him. The way he was grunting and moaning was giving her goosebumps, which was an odd sensation to feel while her skin also felt extremely hot. His tip starts to hit her g-spot in just the right away, and she loses all control of the noises she’s letting out.

“That’s it.” He groans. “Come all over my cock.”

“Oh my god.” She mewls.

Her fingernails sink into the meat of his thighs as she cries out. She arches into him, and looks up at him, almost distressed, so he licks into her mouth. One of her arms hooks around his head to tug at his hair as she rides out her orgasm. She squeezes around him so tightly that after one more thrust he’s spilling into the condom. She lets her body go slack against him as they both catch their breaths. He sponges open mouth kisses to her neck and jaw before lifting her off of him. She whimpers from the abrupt change.

“Sorry.” He says. “Know that stings a little.”

“Yeah, just a little.” She swallows.

She watches him get off the bed and throw the condom away. He walks right into her bathroom, he didn’t even ask first, and she wasn’t sure why that annoyed her so much, but it did. When he comes out, he grabs his clothes to put back on. She goes to the bathroom next and puts her robe back on when she comes out. She walks him down the stairs and to the door.

“Well, uh, have a good night.” He says, running his hand through his hair.

“You too.” She opens the door for him, and he quickly steps out. She closes it and sighs, resting her forehead against it. She hated him, she really did.

//

A pattern had started between them. After hooking up, things were usually cool for about a week, until they’d eventually fight over something. The cooks almost wanted to set up a bingo card of things they fought over.

“Why can’t we offer lentil pasta instead of just gluten free?!” She yells one day.

“Because lentil pasta is more expensive than standard gluten free pasta!”

“You’re such a cheap prick!”

“I’m sorry, I’m trying to save this restaurant some money!”

“We can splurge on some different options! It’s what the people want!”

“Oh, did your bloody survey results tell you that!”

“Yes, as a matter of fact!” His eyes were full of rage. They were both in his office going over the order sheet.  “Why can’t we just order it, try it out, and see how many people order it? If it’s a flop then we don’t have to order it again!”

“Fine!” He throws the clipboard with the order sheet onto his desk. “You’re coming to my place tonight.” He says lowly.

“M’allergic to cats.”

“Take a decongestant then.” He brushes by her to open his door, and he slams it behind him, leaving her standing in there.

Despite her gut telling her not to go, she follows him to his house after work. They say nothing to each other as they walk in. Luna comes over to greet Harry, and he picks her up. Ariel grimaces at the cat.

“You seriously don’t think she’s cute?” Harry asks.

“I’m not a cat person, they’re no fun.”

“You just haven’t met the right cat, then.” He snuggles Luna to his cheek for a moment before setting her down. “My room’s this way.” He nods towards the hall on the right, and she follows him. He walks straight into his bathroom and turns the shower on.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re doing this in the shower, I smell like steak.” He says, already taking his clothes off. She crosses her arms and huffs. “What?”

“I don’t want to shower right now. Just rinse off quick.”

“Ariel, I wasn’t asking. Get your ass in the bathroom, now.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? What do you think this is? You can’t just – mmph!”

He had yanked her into him, kissing her to shut her up. She doesn’t fight him on it at all, and he walks them both into the now steamy bathroom, kicking the door closed. They both work quickly to get the other naked before stepping into the warm water.

“You better have a fucking spare towel.” She mumbles against his lips.

“Obviously.” He bites her bottom lip and then steps back from her. He reaches to grab his body wash.

“You’re seriously taking a shower?”

“Yeah.” He says as he lathers his body up. “I was balls deep in au jus today.” He steps in the water to rinse himself off. “Much rather be balls deep in something else, though.” He tugs her to him, licking into her mouth, and reaching between her legs to rub at her folds. His middle finger slips inside her, and she gasps. “Always so ready for me.” He grunts, and backs her up against one of the tile walls. “Can I hit it raw?”

“Are you, um, are you clean?” She asks.

“Yeah, are you?”

“Yeah.”

He grins, and hooks one of his arms under one of her legs to lift it up enough for him to have the room to thrust up into her. She grips his shoulders as he rocks in and out of her. He slots his mouth over hers and they both moan. Her nails rake down his torso and she grabs onto his love handles for dear life as he pounds in and out of her.

“You really fucking pissed me off today.” She says to him. “It’s just pasta.”

“You like spending money left and right.” He grunts.

“If people like it, then it’ll bring in more business. It could pay for itself.”

“The more people that want it, the more we’ll have to, shit, buy.”

“I’m aware of how supply and demand works, you asshole.”

Harry growls at her and presses his other hand to her throat.

“Do us both a favor, and just shut the fuck up, yeah?”

She nods at him and he lets go of her throat, but she pulls his hand back to keep it there. He groans because, quite frankly, it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen someone do. He wasn’t going to last very long, and he had no way of rubbing her clit.

“Touch yourself, rub your clit.” He says into her ear, his breath hot on her.

She snakes a hand between the two of them, and she whimpers when she touches her throbbing clit. She presses on it and rubs circles into the little bud.

“Ah, oh fuck.” She starts panting. “Just like that, Harry, shit.” She wanted to cry she was so close. She bites down on his shoulder as she comes to her release. She didn’t want her noises to scare his cat.

He pulls out of her quickly and comes on her stomach. He steps away from her and grabs his shampoo. She stands there awkwardly while he scrubs his head.

“You can use my body wash if you want.” He says, nodding to it. Ariel doesn’t say anything. She starts to tear up. “Hey, whoa, are you alright?”

“I…um…” She blinks a few times, but can’t really form a sentence.

He’s not sure what’s going on, but it he takes it upon himself to guide her back into the water to rinse her off. He gets his body wash on a spare cloth to wash her with, and then he turns the water off. He grabs a towel to wrap around her, and then gets one around himself. He picks her up and sits her on the sink counter to get a better looks at her.

“Talk to me, what happened?”

“I’ve never, um, let someone, uh…choke me before.” She looks up at him, and he sighs.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks softly.

“No.” She shakes her head. “Just felt a little…floaty for a second, like, lightheaded.” She swallows. “M’fine, I think it was just the steam. I have asthma and it can act up after a particularly hot shower.”

“If I had known I wouldn’t have-“

“I put your hand back on me, it’s okay.” She takes a deep breath and hops off your counter.

“Do you…wanna just crash here?”

“No.” She laughs. “Not at all.”

“You can’t drive if you’re all lightheaded.”

“I’m fine now.” She says as she puts her clothes back on. “I need to get going, I have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s your day off.”

“Yeah, and I have things to do.” She leaves his bathroom, and he follows her out to his front door.

“Just…could you at least text me when you get home?”

“Sure.” She nods. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

She’s out the door in a flash. Harry didn’t quite understand why things were always so awkward with them afterwards. It was like neither of them ever knew what to say because they just didn’t really know how to be soft with one another. Harry scoops up Luna and brings her to bed with him. About twenty minutes later his phone buzzes.

Ariel Bardin: I’m home

Harry Styles: thanks for letting me know, you made me nervous for a second there

Ariel Bardin: I’m fine, you can go back to not giving a fuck now

Harry Styles: will do, goodnight!

Every time he was nice to her, she had to reject it. He hated her, he really did.

//

“You’re really liking it, you’re not just saying that?” Ariel’s father, Frank, says to her.

“Yes, Papa, I swear.” She smiles. “It’s better than I thought.”

“Good.” He sips on some lemonade. “You look awfully tired.”

“It was a long night.” She shrugs.

“How are things going with the head chef, Harry is it?”

“Yeah, um, I mean, we butt heads from time to time, but it’s fine.”

“It wouldn’t be a normal kitchen if the manager and chef didn’t butt heads.” He chuckles. “I used to fight with the chef all the time.”

“Papa…Uncle Matthew was the head chef when you were there.”

“Don’t I know it. We fought constantly, stubborn old bastard.” He shakes his head. “We still argue about recipes to this day.” He laughs. “Tell me, are you still planning to do the staff appreciation shindig at the end of the summer?”

“Course I am. Hotel’s booked and everything. It’s going to be a fabulous evening.” Ariel smiles. “The dining staff are really excited.”

“Good, good.” He nods. “Do you think you’ll bring a date?”

“Papa.” She groans. “I’d have to be seeing someone in order to bring a date.”

“You work too much, you don’t make time for yourself. Your mother and I were married with a kid by the time we were your age, you know?”

“Yeah, I’m the kid.” Ariel laughs. “I just have other priorities right now.”

“There’s really no one you’re talking to? No one that you like?”

“No.” She takes a sip of her own lemonade. “Don’t worry about me so much, I’m perfectly content, alright?”

“Okay, okay.” He raises his hands in defense. “I won’t ever stop worrying about you, though, that’s the curse of being a parent. At least let me pay for a new dress for the party, hm?”

“You know your money’s no good. I’ll send you pictures, though.”

“Please do, you always look so pretty when you get all dressed up. Spitting image of Mama.” He smiles.

“Thanks, Papa.” She gives his hand a squeeze. “Maybe, um, when I feel like I can take a vacation we can go to France? We haven’t been in so long, and I think it would be good to see our cousins.”

“If you plan the whole thing, sure.” He shrugs. “I think it would be a blast.”

//

Ariel was feeling a little nervous for the staff party. Not only was the restaurant closed for the weekend, but her staff had never seen her in a dress before. She was second guessing everything. Her hair was down and wavy, and she had on this gorgeous navy blue, lace mini dress paired with white heels. When she walked down the hall to the elevators she heard someone suck their teeth. She turns to see it’s Harry.

“Oh, hi.” She blushes.

“Hi.” He looks her up and down. “You look nice.”

“Thank you, so do you.” She swallows and steps inside the elevator once the doors open. Harry steps inside as well, and presses the button for the floor they need to get to with the small ballroom. “Should be a fun night, huh?”

“I’m hoping so.”

“It’s usually a good time.”

“I remember coming with my parents when I was little, it was great. They let me drink all the Shirley Temples I could stomach.”

Harry chuckles slightly at that. In that moment she wasn’t sure if she had ever genuinely made him laugh before. They had hooked up a few more times since the night in his shower. It was always the same, hot and heavy, and then awkward when they were done.

“Wait until you see Garrett on the dancefloor after a few drinks, he can breakdance.”

“No shit, really? I’ll have to keep an eye out.” The elevator dings and they both get off and head towards the ballroom. They both could hear the music the DJ was playing. “Well, have a good time tonight.” Ariel makes her way over to some of the dining staff members that were closer to her age. She had become friendly with a few of them.

Harry migrates over to where his staff was, and buys them all a round of drinks. Ariel stayed nursing on the same vodka-tonic for a bit. She didn’t want to get trashed. She was talking with a couple of the hostesses, having a good time.

“Alright, ladies, I’ve had a couple of drinks, I’m gonna go talk to Harry.” Erica says to them. “My mistake last year was waiting until the end of the night to talk to him. I’m starting earlier this year.”

“And what’s the end goal here, exactly?” Ariel smirks.

“To see what his hotel room looks like, of course.” Erica winks and walks over to where Harry was. “Evening, Chef.” She smiles.

“Hi, uh…”

“Erica.”

“Erica! Right, I knew that. You still working behind the bar?”

“I hostess too.” She smiles.

“Good for you.”

“Are you having a good time?”

“I am.” He nods, and sips from his drink. His eyes flash to Ariel and then back to Erica. “Are you?”

“Yeah. Must be nice that you have the whole weekend off for a change.”

“It’s definitely a nice break.” He smiles, and looks at Ariel again. “Could you excuse me for a moment? I just remembered something I needed to tell Ariel, and I don’t wanna forget again.”

“Oh, um, sure.”

Harry walks away from Erica, and she pouts.

“Don’t take it personally.” Garrett says to her. “Personally, I think he has a thing for Ari, but I have very little proof.”

“Are you kidding? They can’t stand each other.”

“Maybe so.” Garrett shrugs.

Harry makes his way over to Ariel, and clears his throat to get her attention.

“Yes?” She asks, eyebrows raised.

“Come dance with me.”

“Very funny.” She scoffs.

“M’serious. I think it would be good if everyone saw us palling around. Show them the squabbles we have are purely work related.”

“Harry, I have a feeling I’d hate your guts no matter the setting.”

“Just humor me, will you?” He says, visibly annoyed.

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes, and finishes her drinks before following him to the dance floor. A slower song was playing, so she figured it wouldn’t kill her to dance with him.

Once they’re on the dancefloor, his hands go on her waist, and she puts her hands on his shoulders. They sway back and forth for a bit, and it just feels awkward��

“This is weird.” She giggles, and he can’t help but laugh too.

“Why is that the only things we’re good at doing with each other is fighting and fucking?” He smirks.

“Been wondering the same thing myself.” She smirks back at him. “Things would be so much easier if you didn’t question every little thing I wanted to do.”

“Someone’s gotta play Devil’s advocate.”

“You’re not the advocate, you’re the Devil himself.” She rolls her eyes, and it makes him laugh.

“I happen to be a very nice person, you just tend to bring out the worst in me.”

“I suppose a guy who named his cat Luna has to have a soft side.”

“Oi, leave her out of this.” He pouts at her. “You’ve warmed up to her.”

“She’s alright.” Ariel shrugs.

“Those are, uh, really beautiful earrings you’re wearing.” He blushes slightly.

“Oh! Thanks, they were my mother’s. She left me all her good stuff.”

“You must miss her a lot.”

“Yeah.” Ariel sighs. “But it’s nice having these little pieces of her.”

“You know, I’ve never asked, can you speak French fluently, like, are you bilingual?”

“Je ne sais pas, dites-moi.” I don't know, you tell me. She grins at him.

“Okay, I know you said I don’t know…something…me…” He narrows his eyes in thought.

“Dites is tell, it’s the past tense of ditre, which is say.”

“Ah, right, it’s been a while since I conjugated a French verb.” He chuckles. “Remind me, how do you say fuck in French?”

“Merde.”

“I thought that was shit.”

“It works for both.” Ariel shrugs. “There are a lot of variations and translations, like, if I wanted to say I want to fuck you, I’d say Je veux te baiser, but baiser translates to kiss.”

“French is so confusing.” Harry shakes his head. “But it sounds nice while you’re speaking it.” The song ends and she tries to step back from him, but he keeps his grip on her waist. He leans in to whisper in her ear, “Tu veux coucher avec moi ce soir?” Do you want to sleep with me tonight?

“You could have at least used the formal voulez-vous.” She sighs.

“Just answer the question.” He rolls his eyes.

“Oui.” She nods. “But I wanna do it in my room so I can hang my dress up. I don’t want it getting wrinkled.”

“Do you wanna head up now? Think I’m done hanging out with everyone else.”

“Yeah, let’s go. Uh…go ahead of me, I’ll meet you at the elevator.”

Harry nods and makes his way off the dancefloor. Ariel counts to ten Mississippi before making her way out. Harry was leaning up against the wall waiting for her. The elevator dings and they both head inside. Before she knows it, she’s being shoved against the wall, and Harry’s tongue is down her throat. She wraps her arms around his neck, and she groans when he presses himself against her hip. When the elevator dings on their floor, he steps back from her, and they both quickly walk to her room. The second she’s inside, she kicks her heels off, and jumps up for Harry. He carries her over to the bed, and they both fall onto it. They’re both being sloppy with their kisses, but neither cares. The need to be close is overpowering. She starts unbuttoning his shirt while his lips stay on hers. She imagines they’ll still be red and puffy by morning.

He flips them both over so he’s on his back, and she grinds herself against his growing erection. He grips her hips and helps her rock back and forth. She kisses on his neck, and sucks on the area just below his ear. His hands squeeze and knead her ass as a bruise starts to form where her lips are.

“Fuck, need you naked.” He grunts, sitting up to tug on the hem of her dress.

“Hold on, you’re gonna rip it! There’s a fucking zipper on the back.” She huffs.

In the next second, he’s shoving her down onto her stomach so he can undo the zipper of her dress. He pulls her up by the hips so she can free her arms, and then she’s being moved into her back so he can get it the rest of the way off.

“Take your underwear off.” He says as he undoes his pants.

“No.” She smirks at him.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“You do it.”

“Ariel.” He says firmly. “Have you not learned how this works by now?” He moves to hover over her, kissing her slowly. “I talk, and you listen.” She shakes her head no, and his eyebrows raise.

“What makes you think you’re always in charge, hm? I let you do all of these things, you know?” Her smiles grows wider. She pecks his lips before speaking again. “Now, tell me you hate me and take my bra off.”

He sits back, and yanks her into his lap. He works to undo her bra, and tosses it across the room. He kisses on her chest, and sucks on the plushier areas before taking a nipple into his mouth. He pops off with a smirk.

“I don’t just hate you, Ariel, I absolutely loathe you.” He pushes her down onto her back and yanks her underwear off. He finishes taking his own clothes off, and he reaches for a condom, but she grabs his wrist. She shakes her head no. “You sure?” She nods her head yes, and he moves back over her.

He kisses on her neck while one of his hands roams down her body and between her legs. He slides two fingers inside her, and she moans softly. He pumps them in and out slowly before curling them up inside her, and rubbing his thumb on her clit. She grips at the comforter on the bed.

“Like that?” He says into her ear.

“Yes, fuck.” She bucks her hips up to grind against his fingers easier. He pulls them out and she whines.

“Would you relax, I was just gonna flip you over.”

“Oh.” She blushes and rolls onto her stomach. Harry yanks to her to her knees, and slides his fingers back in. Ariel sighs with relief.

“There we go.” He rubs his other hand up her back, and scratches back down before giving her ass a smack. He squeezes the supple flesh and leaves his hand there as he continues to work his fingers in and out of her.

“Oh, oh! Right there!” She gasps and starts rubbing her clit.

“M’I hitting it?” He grunts.

“Y-yeah, you’re right on it, don’t stop, please!”

She can hear him grunting and groaning behind her. He got so much pleasure making sure she got off, it astounded her. She cries out as she comes around his fingers, and he pulls them out slowly. He rubs her back as she catches her breath, and he sucks her slick off his fingers.

“Good?” He asks.

“Yeah, thanks.” She turns onto her side. “Wanna hit it from the side?” She wiggles her eyebrows at him, and he chuckles.

“Sure, if that’s how you want it.”

“It is…for now.”

He gets into position, and gets one of her legs over his shoulder. He pushes inside and watch as her mouth falls open. That was always his favorite part. She’d had him so many times at this point, and she still seemed so shocked at how he stretched her out. He rocks in and out of her slowly before really getting a groove going.

“H-Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you like, go behind me, like, we’re both on our sides? Do you know what I mean?”

He nods and pulls out of her so he can lay down behind her on his side. He lifts one of her legs a little so he can slide back inside of her. She hooks one of her arms around his head so she can get her fingers in his hair, and he kisses on her shoulder while his hand presses on her lower tummy. They were grinding against each other in the most perfect way. His fingers start to work her clit and she whines.

“Sensitive?” He asks her.

“Mhm.”

“Fight through it, know you can come again.”

“Need something to bite on.” She pants.

He gets his other arm around her neck so he can get his fingers in his mouth. She moans around them, and her eyes roll back.

“M’not gonna last, Ariel.” He rubs her clit harder, and she just moans louder around his fingers. “I’m gonna have to pull out soon.”

“No! Come inside me!” She shouts around his fingers.

“Fuck!” He cries out as he comes inside her. It pushes her over the edge, and she comes with him, milking him for everything he’s got. She kisses the palm of his hand before he pulls out of her.

“Could you, uh, bring me to the bathroom?” She asks, looking over her shoulder. “I don’t wanna sleep on sticky sheets.”

“Yeah.” He breathes, and scoops her up, bringing her into the bathroom. He sits her down on the toilet, and leaves to give her some privacy. When she comes out, he’s laying in his boxers on the bed.

“What are you doing?” She asks, going to her suitcase to look for her nightshirt.

“Figured we could fuck again in a bit, it’s not like we have to worry about getting up early, right?” He says, not looking up from his phone. “Or did I tucker you out.”

“No, um, we could…we could do it again in a little while.” She knees onto the bed and lays down. “I just need some time to cool down.”

“Yeah, no worries.”

“Harry?” She asks, turning on her side to face him.

“Hm?”

“Do you really loathe me?”

He looks up from his phone at that and turns on his side to face her.

“No…just sort of said it to keep us in the mood.”

“Do you think, like, we keep fighting as an excuse to fuck?”

“No, I mean, I genuinely can’t fucking stand you sometimes and doing this helps.”

“But what happens when one of us meets someone and we can’t just fuck it out?”

“Oh, please.” He scoffs. “Do you have time to meet someone else?”

“No, I’m just saying-“

“Besides that, who’s gonna fuck you better than me? Gimme a break, Ariel.” He laughs and rolls onto his back again, going back to his phone.

“Harry…eventually I’m going to want more than just fucking someone on the down low. I want certain things.”

“Yeah? So do I. You act like I’m going somewhere.”

“I’m…very confused right now.”

“Come here.” He pats his thighs and she shifts to straddle him. He tucks her hair behind her ears, and then pulls her down to kiss him. “You really think I’d like you run off to be with someone else? If that’s what you think, then you’re even crazier than I thought.”

“Harry, you don’t want me, stop messing around.”

“I’m being completely serious. I’ll get you the big house, the white picket fence, we’ll fill it with babies, and then they’ll have a romantic story to think about just like you did with your parents.” He kisses her again. “What’s cuter than mum and dad meeting in the kitchen at work, right? We can leave out the rest.”

“What makes you think that I…that I want any of that with you?” She was trembling.

“Because you wouldn’t have fucked me a second time if you didn’t like me, Ariel.”

“Harry, stop it, you’re gonna make me cry.” Her bottom lip quivers. “This isn’t funny.”

“I know it’s not, I’m not joking around.”

“But I don’t want us…I don’t want us to always be at each other’s throats. I don’t want that to be the only reason there’s a passion between us.”

He caresses her cheek and rub away a stray tear.

“It won’t be like that. I mean, I certainly know how to make you shut the fuck up, but I think we really have this weird connection. Things always get so awkward after we hook up because I think we’re both sort of soft people, and we don’t know if it’s okay to be soft with one another, but…I wanna be soft with you, I think. I want to sleep over, and cuddle, and all that other shit.” She blinks at him. “Do you want all of that…with me?” She nods yes at him. “Alright then, quit your blubbering and come here.” He tugs her down to him all the way so he can hold her properly. “Je t’aime.” He says softly as he strokes her hair.

“Je t’aime aussi.” I love you too.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Can you give pointers on how to write smut properly?

The Ultimate Guide to Writing Smut Fic is a great resource! I’ll try giving some of my own, too, tho!

#1 Tip: The key to writing smut is be yourself & have fun!

OK, that’s a joke, but it’s true. Write smut that you enjoy. If you are turned on by what you’re writing, it’s good. Smut is tricky because everyone has different preferences. 

For example, some people will hate Dom/sub, while others go out of their way looking for it. Stuff like dubcon, noncon, omorashi, etc. will be more divisive, but even vanilla blowjobs will turn some readers off. So just accept that you can’t please everyone and write for yourself! 

Word Choice

Do you call a penis: a cock? shaft? manhood? member? What about lady parts? Some readers will click that back button the minute they see “pussy,” while others won’t read smut that uses any other term. 

Some word choices are safer than others. Generally speaking, no one enjoys clinical terms like ���penis” or “vagina.” And no one objects to “him” or “her” (i.e. “He entered her”). 

If in doubt, the vaguer you are, the less likely it is to turn someone off. I am fond of overusing “warmth” and “heat” for everything (i.e. “He entered her warm depths”). Plus, what is a “heat” anyway? When I write gender-neutral smut, the POV character is always getting their heat or sex stroked, and their entrance penetrated. Vague terms are quite useful! 

Here’s a little “smut thesaurus” I made of terms I use or at least don’t find objectionable. Again, you never know what someone might find cringey, and some of them I consider borderline, but there’s nothing on the list that’s universally seen as bad. Like “orbs” for eyes. 

Filthiness level

Not all porn is as porny as other porn! Take for example, the same blowjob:

She took him in her mouth, bobbing up and down in his lap. 

Or... 

Her lips parted around his thick, veiny cock, tasting the salt of his precum on her tongue. Sliding down his shaft until her nose was buried in his dark hairs and his crown struck the back of her throat, she... etc!! 

If you’re not sure how to start, it’s OK to do lighter smut that doesn’t get quite so explicit! A lot of people prefer smut that’s more focused on the emotions and less on the graphic details. I definitely started out writing cleaner smut.  

Your word choices will also affect the filthiness/tone of a fic. Not everyone wants cocks and cunts everywhere! I’d recommend saving your naughtiest words for your naughtiest, most graphic fics, and fluffier language for fluffier, cleaner fics. 

Inspiration!

If you can’t just churn out sexy scenarios on demand...

Read other smutfics/romance novels. I have a whole “smut thesaurus” google doc that I add to every time I see some phrasing that I like. Do not plagiarize entire sentences word for word. But when I see my favorite author use “laving” I’m like... yes. That is a good word for licking. Let me add that to my list of licking words. 

Fantasize. Not to get TMI but if you’re stuck on a smut scene... you know. Consider getting the ol’ vibrator out. Or have sex with someone if that’s an option. Cuddle a pillow. Stop stressing over the keyboard and just imagine what would feel good. THEN WRITE IT DOWN SUPER QUICK BEFORE YOU FORGET. I’m always taking notes on my phone. 

Porn. Just. Straight-up watch some porn. You’re still responsible for the emotional component, but you’re allowed to steal all of the physical acts from a porn video if you want. 

Don’t forget the emotions!!! 

Character development and a strong emotional basis are what separates smut fic from porn. The physical act of two people mashing their body parts together in different configurations loses its interest after awhile. For me anyway. I need a STORY! 

Why are they having sex? How do they feel about the sex they’re having? Tell me how the sex is an expression of how much they care about each other! Or show me how their sexual connection is what makes them start to fall in love! Show me they’re afraid they’re not good enough, but the way their lover moans their name fills them with such a warm, trembling feeling! Tell me how reassured they are when their partner holds their hand! Or how safe they feel with their solid weight pressing them down into the mattress. Or how wild and arousing it is to be with such a fiendish villain! How powerful it feels to have an arrogant, wealthy man begging for you on his knees! How all your insecurity slips away when you give up all control to a trusted partner. How amazing it feels to be that partner, and be trusted. Slow, comforting “you had a bad day and I’m taking care of you” sex where they comb their fingers through your hair. Awkward first times! 

There are so many different feelings to be explored with sex! 

(Ex. Trope-and-Tales devastated me with a smut scene where the arrogant jerk guy desperately wanted affection and kept trying to have sensual, loving sex, but she was angry at him and wanted rough hate-sex, and it was disappointing for both of them and heartbreaking. I’m still not over it. I’ll never be over it. So, you know. Kudos to what you can convey with sex.)

So really, if you put the emotions front and center, you can’t go wrong. Smut is like any other part of writing... just with more body parts mashing together.

[nihilnovisubsole]

@queenlua​ replied to your post:

finished first two chapter of a three-chapter thing; said two chapters were basically Character Having A Nervous Breakdown; handed it to a beta reader and they were like "this voice is hella compelling and i'm into it but i'm also not super-clear why the breakdown's happening, you know?" so then i had a metaphorical meditation session in the mountains, *think* i figured out the character's Deal and how to communicate that, BUT then i had migraines for like a week so i've only been poking at it tepidly like cold chicken and mashed potatoes. rip

HOW ABOUT YOURS

actually? honestly? slowly, but not bad, in that i like where i’m going and it’s now a question of plugging along. i still have a fair few plot problems to hash out, but they’re not load-bearing, unstable fault lines the way they were before.

sometime in the past couple of years, i had a sobering moment. i realized that a lot of the story’s early setup accidentally mirrored the playbook of hallmark enemies-to-lovers beats. i mean, more power to the people who enjoy those movies, but it wasn’t the kind of story that i was trying to tell. and i wasn’t trying to tell that kind of story because that playbook tends to rest on a lot of suspension of disbeliefs that war espionage stories can’t get away with. when you watch a christmas romance tv movie, you accept that the heroine and love interest will be stuck in the mountain cabin together even though they don’t like each other. why? the story needs them to. if they hated each other’s guts that much, they could leave, provided a magic snowstorm-ex-machina didn’t come along. but they don’t, because they’re stubborn and they have unacknowledged physical chemistry, and soon the whole town full of quirky locals starts conspiring to get them together, and you just kind of roll with it. it’s cool. that’s the accepted genre language, so to speak.

that doesn’t work in a story where the worldbuilding rests on martial law and dire, potentially lethal consequences. i’m not trying to swerve to the other extreme and go all cinemasins, but some of the story’s initial contrivances were too big to shrug off. you can’t say, “A needs to become a guest in B’s cabin for plot reasons, and B isn’t happy about it, but it’s just kind of allowed to happen after some grumbling and wringing of hands that she doesn’t have anywhere else to go.” A and B are literally on opposite sides of a war. A would be arrested for even setting foot in B’s country, and vice versa. even if she’s not arrested, B would kick her out of the house. if he’s not allowed to kick her out... now we’re getting somewhere. why not? who came up with that rule? does that mean A is also not allowed to leave? what ramifications do these two things have for the story’s world?

can’t think of answers? either the story dies, or you roll up your sleeves and dig through the muck until you find ones that are both possible and plausible. if these aren’t normal circumstances, why are they abnormal? does that explanation hold water? you can’t proceed until it does.

so that’s most of what i’ve been dealing with. cutting open the more far-fetched aspects of the story and building in [what i hope is] a scaffolding of plausibility. some people might argue that some ideas aren’t worth the effort. i want to think this one is, and i want to see it through.

[queenofdenest]

Prompt: letters | denmark Series: apheeweek 2k21 Fandom: Hetalia. Warnings/Tags: purple prose. very lightly implied bad things Characters: APH Est.onia. APH Den.mark. Pairings: denest Summary: sometimes you look at the letters your boyfriend wrote to you and you fall a little bit more in love with him.

A/N: my blog is literally titled queen of this ship, of course I was going to write it at some point. I saw the prompt ‘letters’ and was like, time to bust out a headcanon that I have never talked about before but would love to write about. Honestly, there isn’t much to say. This is just soft and sweet. The most important thing I do want to say is happy birthday esto.nia. may the light of your future outshine the darkness in your past, may what hurt your citizens be nothing more than a nightmare that easily fades one day.

                                                                                                                                 I hope this reaches you well, the letter began, fancy script curling around itself on the page. It’s all in a mix of Esto.nian and Dan.ish, besides that one line which is – at least on this letter – written in Pol.ish. Est.onia has dozens of these letters, ones that begin with that one sentence written in several languages before eventually becoming the strange, yet oddly charming mix of the two languages.

“A secret language,” Den.mark had once said, a moment before Esto.nia had been handed over to the Livo.nian Order. “Look for a letter from me.”

Eduard, who at that time was nameless, excepting when he answered to the name Maast, had not believed that there’d be any letters. He was angry then; about being sold, about having to leave, about it being to Livonia and Prussia. Of course, by time he was being handed over to Poland and Lithuania, he had amassed dozens of letters, written in Denmark’s “secret language”, holding onto them as if they were his only lifeline as he was swapped as if he was a possession.

Tere! Hemmelig keel.*

Barely understandable, Eduard thought as he read one of the first letters ever sent to him. The secret language was just their languages mashed together, one word after another. It didn’t exactly work in the beginning as Taani had very little understanding of the Estonian language and that during Eduard’s time as his vassal, they never really worked on teaching it to him.

Hidden kisses, soft moments stolen during times when Denmark had to be somewhere else but wanted nothing more than to stay with him for the entire time – they fell into a chaste whirlwind romance as quick as they managed to realize that it was wanted in both side.

Another letter, the Swedish beginning before falling into a pattern that worked better with a vocabulary showcasing to Estonia that Taani had been working on learning his language even with them being separated.

A blush formed on his face slightly. The words, while for the most part a simple poem speaking about Denmark’s love of the Estonian lands he held, took a less than innocent turn as it continued.

He stifled a laugh. He forgot how corny some of these letters were. He barely interacted with them, after all the bad that had happened, he had kept them hidden in hopes of protecting them, never bringing them out in fear someone would take them and destroy them. Yet, they brought him the biggest smiles, seeing how Taani’s understanding of his language go from bad to considerably better to native level, all without Eduard’s help.

It was… something for him, knowing that someone had decided to teach themselves a language no one really saw as important besides Eduard and his people.

You’re face – I miss it, I dream about it, I wish I could wrap you into my arms and never let you go, one of the letters said somewhere near the end.

“What are you laughing at?”

Eduard jumped slightly at the sound of Taani’s voice, shaking his head as he turned to face him. “What are you doing?”

Nikolaj gave him a smile, “That was my question,” he said as he moved to sit with him, making sure to not accidentally bump into anything. He made a motion towards one of the letters, asking permission.

“Of course,” Eduard said, “These are kind of yours as well.”

The look on the other’s face was confused as he touched the first yellowed page, eyebrows furrowed as he seemed to read the words. It took less than a minute for a bright red to cover his face, embarrassment evident.

“I can’t believe you kept them.” The letter was placed down softly, another one picked up in the same soft manner. “Oof, this one is just me comparing your eyes to the sky and the sea and to flowers – these are so bad.”

Eduard laughed lightly. “I love them.” He looked at the pages, their little protective box laying nearby. He didn’t have a lot – so much got destroyed with every new regime change; the last one had almost broke him – yet the little knick-knacks that he managed to keep helped him maintain a bit of himself. “They used to help remind me of good things whenever I was having a bad time.”

Taani seemed to think on that, his face pensive as they sat in silence. Perhaps it was too dark a thing to say; it was Eduard’s birthday, a day of celebration, not one to sit and reminisce on the bad things that had happened to him, but at the same time, it seemed insincere to not acknowledge it. Of course, he could’ve said it differently – soften the blow so the meaning behind it wasn’t so harsh.

“I-”

“I guess I have to start writing you more letters than,” Taani interrupted, bright blue eyes shining as he looked up.

Eduard flustered. “What?”

A shrug. “If they make you happy, then every free second I have, I will write you a letter, secret code and all.”

“It’s not really a secret code,” he said, trying to distract himself from the butterfly feelings in his throat. “It’s just our languages.”

“Exactly, our languages.”

Oh.  

Oh.

“Jeg elsker dig,” Eduard said after a second. The words were easy to say, the language one he had learned long ago. Not one he said often though.

“Ma armastan sind,” Nikolaj repeated, the smile growing on his face. “Come on, birthday boy, it’s time to celebrate you.”

The letters, with their yellow paper, honeyed words, nonsensical meanings, and near magical properties, were gently placed back in their envelopes, then the box, and finally placed on the nearest shelving unit. Eduard felt a surge, wanting to instead hide them away to keep them safe, yet knowing – trusting that they’d be so.

Plus, if they weren’t in storage, it’d make it easier to add any new letters to it. Perhaps, with time, he could help Denmark create his own letter box by actually answering back to all of them – something he had neglected to do back then as he was always terrified of the idea of telling Taani about what was going on with him.

He felt an arm wrap around his waist, a soft hug from Taani always grounded him. Yes, after dinner, after the celebration, he’d get started on writing letters, writing answers, and ultimately, telling stories.

                                                                                                                                a.n: *there’s not much to add. i always headcanoned that throughout their separation, taani would send eduard letters while eduard would just sequester them away as a means to protect them, never writing back. i feel like that probably worried the crap out of nikolaj while at the same time, he understood.  * i hope this reaches you well is probably my favourite meme rn so of course i was adding it. *taani = estonian for denmark, i will forever use it as a nickname.  *tere! hemmelig keel! = this is quite literally hello (estonian), secret/hidden (danish), language (estonian) - at least according to google translate which is as reliable as my city’s weather which can go from below freezing to 50 degrees Fahrenheit in less than a day and then right back to freezing should it feel like it.  *very (very) simplified version: estonia was a duchy under danish rule, the teutonic knights showed up on estonia, the estonians had st. george’s night uprising, the danish king sold the land to the teutonic knights/livonian order. [authors note within an authors note: this is a very very very very simplified version of it, please know it’s a little more nuanced than this.] *lastly, estonia as a country has always fascinated me. for one, my maternal grandmother might’ve had family from there from before ww2, and for two, even though hetalia introduced me to the country, the research i have proceeded to do have kept me far more interested. it’s a country of hardships, of a shitty hand dealt and forcibly played, yet throughout it, they’ve maintained a sense of self that is much stronger than any of the harm done to it. it’s a country i hope to one day visit, to actually get to see these places i have dreamt of seeing since i first started to delve deeper into the history. it’s a country that i truly do enjoy learning about, regardless of what i’m learning. so again. happy birthday. happy national day. 

[shaonsim]

Catch up with me

Tagged by the wonderful @annlillyjose, thank you so much for thinking about me !!!!

Last song: Amar mukti aloe aloe from Muktodhara. The song has always been a favorite, and something about this particular rendition makes me feel the song.

Last movie: Goynar baksho. I love the first half and despise the second, Aparna nicely effed up by mashing together Goynar Baksho and Rashmonir Sonadana, resulting in a big jump in the mood of the film. I don't entirely blame her, the original second half of Goynar Baksho is also trash, and she needed to do something to stretch the story and fit it into the time frame for a movie.

Currently reading: Saving Francesca by Melina Marchetta (it is a slow progress, the book is kind of dry and the main character sounds whiny when I think she is supposed to come across as lost); The Winning Element by Shannon Greenland (smooth progression, easy language and simple plot line, a slushy book with a romance angle I do not care for - thankfully this one has little mention of their relationship); Kailashe kelenkari by Satyajit Ray (rereading because I need a healthy dose of childhood nostalgia) - wait, what do you mean by I need to name only one book? I am reading multiple books all at once like the chaotic mess I am and all of them will get a mention.

Currently writing: Bad question. Invalid. Pass. Okay, I'll answer this, truthfully, simply because I am feeling nice. There are two (we don't focus on one thing and one thing only, not in this house at least) self-indulgent fanfictions I am working on. Self-indulgent to the point where these are gifts, for myself (self care, yeah, I know her).

Currently craving: You scream, I scream, we all scream, for ICE CREAM !!!! Where is my cold, soft, creamy delight? Chocolate, or maybe vanilla, or strawberry, or some other flavour 🍦😋

Not tagging anyone in particular, if you see this and feel like doing it, then go do it ❤️

[thebiasrekkers]

Breathe: Hope In Isolation | PJM

For the @bangtanscenery​ - April Showers Bring May Flowers Project in celebration of the Spring Season!

Plot: For as long as Jimin can remember, the house is all he’s ever known. His only companion, a calico cat. Neither of them age as the house pulls them through time and space. He can neither interact with people nor stray far from the house. He is cursed to watch the world pass by every year and never be a part of it. But one day, someone not only is able to see the house, but they can finally see him as well.

Rating: PG-13 // SFW

Genre: time-slip!au | modern fantasy!au | angst | romance | drama

Pairing: Park Jimin x Female OC (Brianna Larkins)

Warnings: Strong language, extreme angst, anxiety, implication of curses/magic

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 11.4K

AN: This idea came from a mash-up song of Billie Eilish and BTS. Specifically the song "Serendipity". I have been told that this story is the epitome of what Serendipity stands for and to me, that is the greatest compliment I could ever hope to receive. In a time of isolation, like what we are experiencing now, it's always important to remember the things that matter the most to us. Which are often the things we take for granted. So for those of you who are feeling lonely, sad, or even a little anxious, this is for you. Remember that you are loved.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Jimin’s grip tightened around the handle of the water pitcher as the house began to shake violently. The water sloshed from the pitcher, spilling onto the floor around his feet. The little calico cat that kept him company hopped onto the couch and curled itself into a ball of fluff. The few dishes he had trembled on top of the coffee table, all but threatening to fall to the floor. Craning his neck, he peeked out of the small kitchen window and sighed as the universe swirled in a kaleidoscope of colors and stars. The sheer curtains in the house fluttered with the speed of how fast everything was moving, causing his own blonde hair to fly back off his forehead.

Closing his eyes, Jimin held his breath and waited for the tremors to cease. He could never stare at the seemingly endless galaxies for too long. It always made him feel a little nauseous, even after all these years.

When the shaking finally ceased, he released the breath he held and opened his eyes when aggravated meows of protest reached his ears. Sighing, he turned to see the cat was now moving around on the couch in circles, kneading the cushions in determination before plopping its rump back down. The calico flicked its tail back and forth, patiently waiting for Jimin to open the window to let it roam about.

He poured the water into a glass, setting the pitcher down on the counter, and made his way over to the cat. Jimin stroked its head lovingly before leaning across the couch to unlatch the locks and pushed the window open. The cat wasted no time hopping outside to begin exploring. Shielding his eyes with his forearm, Jimin peered out to see where he’d landed this time.

When he’d landed this time.

The cat rolled happily in the bed of flowers, chasing after a butterfly. Wherever Jimin was, it was quiet and seemingly barren for as far as the eye could see. There were forests to one side and a rolling set of hills on the other. In the very center, separating both landmarks, was a wide open field of countless flowers in varying colors and breeds. A breeze pushed against his face and he smiled, savoring the smell and taste of the ocean winds. He was by the sea.

The weather was nice and calm. He wouldn’t need to dress warm, but he stripped out of his white t-shirt and slid on a long-sleeved one instead; also white. He kept his white linen trousers on and didn’t bother with shoes. It would be nice to feel the grass between his toes. His last location was a desert and sand got old very quickly, as did the heat. He rarely went outside during that year.

As his feet touched the grass, he was immediately filled with the fragrant smell of the flowers. He made sure not to inhale too much, or the aroma would overwhelm him. His little feline companion was long gone - seemingly off to explore and hunt whatever she wanted. Jimin didn’t mind. His friend always came back.

He walked around the entire radius of the house to get a good idea of his surroundings and tried to figure out the layout. Whatever time he was in, he couldn’t quite determine it. Not without notable landmarks and people to gauge their clothing or the latest technology of that era. Once he saw anything remotely familiar, he would figure out the rest. 

He’d lost count of how many times he’d moved through time and space like this.

Spinning on his heels, he spread his arms out and flopped into the bed of flowers. Petals fluttered in the air around him, some falling into his hair and on his face. He smiled widely and even laughed. How he’d missed the clean air and the feel of cool grass on his skin. Jimin made a note to savor every moment he had in this time before he was forced to leave it again.

The sun felt warm on his face, lulling him into a serene state until he felt his lids growing heavy. He would have drifted off to sleep had it not been for his furry companion feeling the need to hop onto his stomach at that moment. The cat purred as he laughed and stroked the cat’s back. 

“Did you find anything interesting?” he asked. The cat meowed in response, but not really giving him an answer. Jimin smiled, petting its head. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Sitting up, he gathered the cat into his arms and stood up from the ground. “Let’s do a bit more exploring, hm?”

The two of them wandered around where they could. An invisible wall prevented Jimin from going further than two hundred meters in any direction. As he pressed his hand against the barrier, he gave a dejected sigh before returning back to the house. On the outside, it looked like a Tudor cottage with natural brick and molding. Everything else was white or a soft yellow color for the trimming, the roof tiles a rich cobalt blue. It was the strangest house he’d ever seen and it was probably the reason he was drawn to it in the first place.

Truth be told, Jimin couldn’t recall how long he’d been in that house. He didn’t even remember how old he was supposed to be or what time period he hailed from originally. All the clothing, food, and other necessities were replenished on their own. If the climate he was transported to was cold, all of his clothing was suited for the temperature drop. If it was hot, humid or dry, his clothes changed to match it as well. The house provided it all. He stopped questioning how and why a long long time ago.

Everything he owned was white, save for the bedding, which was just a simple yellow blanket. The couch was slate in color. There were a few plants in the house but they were all green and simple to take care of. Namely the cactus that sat on his coffee table.

He set the cat down and opened the door, waiting for the calico to prance inside. The house had enough natural light streaming from outside that the lack of actual lighting fixtures made little difference to Jimin. If he needed a light source, he would always light a candle or burn some oil in the lantern.

It would be just another year for Jimin. One year of many.

After he finished showering, he changed into some fresh garments and began scrounging up something together for a modest meal. The scent of flowers overwhelmed him to the point where he needed to come inside and lay down for a few hours. After smelling the acrid air of the desert, it was a stark contrast but one that he knew wouldn’t take long for him to acclimate.

For the first time in a while, he was actually excited to discover more of his new environment.

The first few weeks were uneventful. They always were. 

Once he was used to the floral aroma that wafted in through his windows, he made it a point to gather up fresh flowers and placed them throughout the house. The interior in its entirety was white, so the bursts of color that the flowers provided were a welcome change. Jimin could hardly remember a time where he was able to be surrounded by nature in its colorful bountifulness. 

He’d been from place to place and from one time to the next. He jumped from the past where architecture was still done by hand to the future where machines did most of the heavy labor. Some skies were clear and blue, others were dark and overcast. Rain, sleet, snow, high winds and desert storms. Jimin was able to experience them all thanks to the power of the house that moved him in and out of existence through an ethereal portal he couldn’t begin to hope to understand.

Strangely enough, he didn’t age. He assumed it was from the power of the house. There was no other explanation. He stopped questioning it years ago because he forgot the reason he was in the house in the first place, or how he’d gotten there. 

Certain things were made clear from his travels through time, however, and it made coping with his isolation a little bit difficult. The invisible barrier was one. His inability to grow old was another. He couldn’t destroy the house either. He tried many years ago in a fit of anger and didn’t leave a scratch on the surface. He couldn’t even burn it down. He tried that too. 

Jimin only stayed in one place and time for a year. Then the house would jump through time. The house would never leave without him, because the house and he were connected. Even if Jimin was outside after the year was over, he would get pulled back inside for the journey. 

The one that struck him the hardest, however, was the fact that no one could see him or the house. This made interacting with people impossible. 

No matter how much he screamed, no one could hear him. No matter how hard he tried to touch someone, they could not feel him. His hand would pass straight through their bodies, as though he were little more than a ghost to them. But he wasn’t dead, of that he was most certain. 

He couldn’t recall, exactly, how far back it was he’d learned these things, but they were lessons that stuck with him for a very long time. Since then, he simply flitted in and out of existence, watching the world and the people in it pass him by. So far, the only being he could actually interact with was the calico cat that lived in the house with him and as far as Jimin could tell, the cat was always by his side.

The months rolled on in an even keel and there was still no sign of a single person in sight. The weather was getting warmer, breaching into summer. From what Jimin could gather, he arrived at the onset of spring. It wouldn’t be long before autumn was upon him and he would no longer be able to relish in the lovely landscape as things began to die. The thought of it caused a pained expression to form on his face. He didn’t like to witness things wilting before his eyes, but what choice did he have?

It rained for a few days straight, cooling the air and giving it a refresher of sorts. The rain always made Jimin sleepy and he often napped for hours at a time before getting up to feed himself, shower, and then return to bed. The cat enjoyed rainy days because it gave her an excuse to cuddle with Jimin as he spent the days lazily lying in bed.

The sound of laughter pulled Jimin from deep sleep, causing him to rouse from bed. Bleary eyed and a little groggy, he shuffled around from his room and out to the kitchen. The laughter was louder now and it was more than one set of tones from what he could gather. Pouring himself a glass of water, he drained it in a few gulps and then splashed some water on his face to fully rid himself of the sleepy haze still settled on the backs of his eyelids. 

Pulling back the sheer curtains, he peeked out of the kitchen window and blinked rapidly. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing, but he knew he wasn’t dreaming. There in the fields of flowers were several people; young men and women. They were sprawled out on a blanket, laughing and talking as a small radio sat at their side. Jazz peeled from the speakers and he could tell from the model that it was a mid to late 80s radio. There was a large picnic basket between them and one girl with red hair began pulling out things from inside of it. Two of the three boys scrambled off the blanket and started tossing a baseball between each other, the sound of the ball hitting the leather gloves like whip cracks to Jimin’s ears. 

The boy who remained was sitting with the two girls who were chatting it up while putting things on paper plates. Confident they couldn’t see him, Jimin poured himself another glass of water and stepped outside so he could hear them better. They were just within the two hundred meter barrier, but just barely.

“When’s Brianna comin’?” asked the boy with dirty blonde hair as bit into a sandwich.

The red-haired girl shrugged as she poured some orange juice into a cup and handed it to the blonde-haired girl beside her. “I dunno. She said she’d be here soon.”

The blonde scoffed as she leaned back on one hand. “She’s always late to these things. We only have a month and a half of summer vacation left before the new school year starts.”

The two boys tossing the ball back and forth looked at them. One of them had jet black hair that fell around his ears and the other was mousy and in a bowl cut. “Then we’ll officially be college students.”

The red-haired girl groaned, falling onto her side. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I’m dreading it already.”

The boy on the blanket chuckled. “Yeah right, Miss ‘I’m moving to New York to be a famous fashion designer’ Maxine.”

Maxine pouted, shifting to lay on her stomach. “Shut-up, Eddie. You all know how hard I worked to get that scholarship.”

“Aw, come on, Max,” teased the blonde, “you know he’s only teasing. Eddie’s just sad to see you leave our little circle of friendship.”

Eddie puffed out one of his cheeks and bit into the sandwich in annoyance. “Psh, whatever. No one asked you, Stephanie .”

The blonde, Stephanie, glared at him. “It’s Stevie. Call me Stephanie again and I’ll knock your fuckin’ block off.”

“Language, Stevie,” called the boy with black hair as he flashed her a grin.

“Oh, fuck you, James.” Stevie flipped her middle finger at him, which only caused him to dissolve into a small fit of laughter. 

The mousy-haired boy laughed as he tossed the ball to James. “You two should just get married already.”

James missed the ball, balking at his friend. “You’re out of your fuckin’ gourd, Marcus.”

Marcus rolled his eyes and motioned for James to toss the ball back to him. When he did, instead of it falling into his glove like it had been, it was caught in a bare hand. Jimin looked up to see a young girl with light brown skin and dark brown curls holding the ball. Dressed in a pair of distressed denim overall shorts, she wore a hunter green t-shirt underneath; a black and white flannel shirt tied around her waist. On her feet, instead of sandals, were a pair of combat boots. 

This ensemble had Jimin canting his head slightly. It wasn’t exactly a summer-type outfit, but what did he know about fashion? Everything he owned was white.

“Well look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” called Max as she sat up on her elbows, “we were beginning to think you were gonna be a no-show.”

“Yeah, Bree,” said Stevie, “where’ve you been?”

“Got held up at work,” Bree said as she tossed the ball back to James. She took a few steps and paused, her eyes meeting Jimin’s. The action was so sudden that he nearly dropped the glass of water he was holding. She pointed a finger at him. “Who’s the new guy?”

“Huh?” Eddie looked in the direction she was pointing, blinked as Jimin looked back at him, then faced Bree again. “Who’re you talkin’ about?”

This time she extended her arm, still pointing at Jimin. He took a step back, unsure of what to make of this new development. He could feel the heat rising up his neck and creeping over his face. 

“Him. Who is he?” Bree looked at the others as she placed a hand on her hip. “And did you guys actually ask him if we could hang out in the front yard of his house?”

Stevie’s brows furrowed as she stood up from the blanket. “What the hell are you talkin’ about, girl?” She turned her head in either direction. “What house? What guy?”

Bree rolled her eyes. “I swear to God, if you guys are tryin’ to play some game with me, I’m going to make your lives hell for the next hour.” She looked back at Jimin and his lips parted in both surprise and fear. “Hey you! Are you in on this too?”

“Bree, have you been smokin’ again?” Marcus teased as he gently pushed her back. “Told you about tokin’ it up so much during vacay.”

For a moment, all she did was look at Jimin; seemingly boring holes through his own sockets. He licked his lips, contemplating on responding, but was soon pulled from his shock after James moved to pick Bree up and spun her around as he hefted her stomach-first onto his shoulder. She kicked and smacked his back, turning her away from Jimin so that she could no longer catch him in her line of sight.

But that didn’t keep her from shouting.

“Yo! I’m talkin’ to you! Hey!” 

Jimin didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to answer. Someone was actually looking at him and speaking to him. This was the first time it’d happened in all the years he’d moved in and out of time. As much as he wanted to respond to her, he knew that she would only look like a raving lunatic if he tried to speak or interact with her in any way. So Jimin did the only thing he could at that moment.

He ran back into the house, slamming the door closed behind him.

Hours passed and the people still remained. Even as the sun was setting, they showed no signs of vacating the premises. They’d spent so much time out there that James managed to change the batteries on the portable radio in the midst of all their fun and games. Jimin was both confused and entranced. He longed to sit beside them as they turned on their flashlights and shared stories about their school year.

The one called “Bree” kept Jimin from even entertaining the idea of getting closer.

After the initial chaos from her outburst died down, he secretly hoped that she would merely view both the house and him as mere figments of her imagination. Clearly she was the more rebellious one of the group, partaking in recreational drugs as well as managing a part-time job. But that also made her a bit skeptical, at least from Jimin’s perspective. For a while, he believed she’d forgotten about him, as well as the house. But every so often, when he would peek out the window to be part of their little world, she would cast her umber hues in his direction, forcing Jimin to retreat back into the safety of his home.

Why was he so afraid? Wasn’t this what he’d always wanted? What he’d yearned for?

Hiding like this seemed silly and pointless.

When will I be able to speak to someone again? 

The thought weighed on his heart like a heavy anvil, threatening to sink all the way down to the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t remember how many years he traveled through the universe. But he could remember the loneliness he felt during that time. What was it like to have a normal conversation with someone? To be able to laugh and share memories together, no matter how exciting or dull they might have been? To cherish the small moments like the people were outside?

When would another opportunity like this come again for Jimin?

He knew this to be true. There was no sense in denying it or even ignoring it. There was no other truth. But it couldn’t shake the fear that lurked in the darkest recesses of his own heart.

He feared rejection. He was afraid of being turned away from anyone who could see him. So detached and far from the realm of normal, Jimin knew that anyone would find his circumstances both unreasonable and unbelievable. 

Being invisible was better than being ignored.

“So, we callin’ it a night or what?” It was Marcus. 

The sound of a yawn being stifled was heard. “Yeah, I think so.” Now it was Stevie.

There was a distinct rustling noise of things being gathered. Jimin, while locked away in the house, hadn’t strayed too far from the window. He made sure to keep himself hidden in case Bree had any urges to look in his direction. But in those hours, he’d grown accustomed to whose voice belonged to which person and enjoyed being able to get to know them despite the lack of interaction. It made him sad to know that they would be leaving; even more so that he didn’t know when they would be back. If they would be back.

He took a chance to peek out the window and saw the group rolling up their things. They all laughed, chatted more, and promised to get together again later in the week when they were all free. Something about hitting the mall or maybe going to watch a movie. Jimin pressed his back to the wall as the sounds of their footsteps faded off in the distance.

A movie. Jimin tried hard to think back on when he last saw a movie. His earliest memory was so fuzzy and he couldn’t be sure if it was accurate.

The calico cat meowed as she rubbed her body in between each of his legs, bringing him out of his thoughts. Crouching down, he began to stroke the cat’s spine and tail before rubbing her head lovingly. She purred happily to the attention and he smiled. “You wanted to play with them too, huh? I’m sorry, but it was too risky to let you out.” The cat meowed again, as if understanding his words, and he gathered her up into his arms. “Maybe I’ll read a book tonight…”

Jimin managed to take a few steps into the main living area when the sound of the door knocking caused him to drop his friend. The cat landed softly on her paws and scampered away to the couch, leaving him seemingly frozen in time. He couldn’t ignore the cold sweat dripping from his neck or the heavy ache in his chest from how hard his heart was thudding against it.

Craning his neck, he peered at the door. 

Again, three knocks hit from the other side.

“Hello?” 

It had to be her. It couldn’t have been anyone else. But clearly she’d left with the others. What reason would she have to turn back?

“Hey, I know you’re in there.” In most cases, that phrase would have been threatening. But her voice belied something else. “Look, I just wanna talk, okay?”

This was it. This was the moment Jimin wanted. He wanted it more than anything he’d ever wanted in his entire life.

Yet all he could do was stare at the door. His body refused to move. He wanted to, but his feet were rooted in place. There was a lump forming in his throat and he wasn’t sure if he could swallow it down enough to speak. To tell this person to go away, even though he secretly yearned for them to stay.

“J-Just a minute,” came his weak response. 

He wasn’t sure if she’d heard him, but he took a moment to gather his courage before forcing himself to cross the short distance to the front door. It wasn’t locked. She could have just waltzed in if she pleased. Jimin was thankful she hadn’t, though. He wasn’t sure how he would have responded if she’d barged in unannounced.

When he opened the door, Jimin felt his heart skip a beat as he looked at Bree. He shouldn’t have been surprised. It wasn’t like this was the first time she was seeing him. But this time they were less than three feet from each other. She stood with her hands folded across her chest, giving him the once over with a glance. Jimin flushed, averting his gaze for half a second before moving back to her. 

She’s pretty, he thought suddenly, causing another rush of heat to stain his cheeks. It was unexpected but was also still his own opinion.

“Good evening.” 

It was the only thing Jimin could come up with that didn’t sound stupid.

“You too,” she said almost dismissively. It wasn’t offensive, but it was clear that Bree had her own priorities. “So what’s your deal?”

He nervously placed a hand on the back of his neck. “What do you mean?”

“You. This house.” Bree looked to her left, right, then back to him. “How come no one else can see it but I can?”

Biting his lower lip, he felt his brows knit in worry. He couldn’t very well lie to her. So he chose to tell her the truth. “I honestly don’t know.”

A single brow lifted on Bree’s face. “You don’t know or you won’t tell me?” 

Jimin shook his head. “I really don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

He winced slightly. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

Sighing, she brushed a hand through her dark curls. “Okay, well what do you know?”

“That you’re the first person who’s been able to see me and this house.” The cat meowed, moving between Jimin’s feet to rub her body against Bree’s leg. She looked down and blinked at the feline, then looked back at Jimin. “And the cat.”

The calico continued to weave in and out from between Bree’s legs until she finally relented, leaning down to pick up the cat. His companion seemed to appreciate being able to interact with someone other than him and he felt a little offended. Bree petted the cat for a moment, then held her hand out toward him. For a while, all he did was stare at her hand.

“I’m Brianna Larkins. Friends call me Bree.”

Slowly, he reached for her hand. But just as he was about to touch her, he hesitated. Part of him still couldn’t believe this was happening. Jimin was afraid that his hand would pass straight through hers like he were a mere apparition. 

Bree took the initiative, grabbing his hand with her own. It caused him to jump slightly, the sensation of touching another person a seemingly foreign concept to him. He’d well and truly forgotten what it was like to feel the skin of another human being. All he could do was watch, dumbfounded, as she shook their hands up and down.

“I’m Jimin.”

She canted her head slightly. “No last name?”

“I can’t remember it.”

She didn’t bother hiding her scoff as she let his hand go. Already he was mourning the absence of her touch. “Figures.” Bree lifted herself onto the balls of her feet to peek inside the house just over his shoulder. “So, can I come in or what?”

Again, another question he didn’t know the answer to. Surely if she could see both the house and him, as well as touch him, then she should have been able to cross the threshold into the house. But that was just a theory. One he’d never had the pleasure of putting into practice.

“S-Sure,” Jimin managed to stammer out as he stood to the side, giving her room to step through the entrance. 

And just like that, she stepped past the door frame and into his main living area like it was the most natural thing on earth. Jimin stood speechless while still holding the door open. Bree pulled off her combat boots, the calico still held delicately in her arms as she moved in and out of the space he alone occupied for so long. Well, him and his little furry friend. It was too strange and his mind was having a difficult time processing everything that was happening. 

If he could describe the sensation accurately, Jimin felt like he was walking through water that was a mile deep and he was on the verge of drowning.

“Little lacking in the interior decorating department, don’t you think?” she asked while slowly turning as she walked. 

Jimin rubbed at the back of his head. “That’s not something I can really control, unfortunately.” 

And it was true. Even if he could paint the walls, they would just turn white again after a matter of minutes. 

Bree shrugged as she turned to face him. “Better than some awful wallpaper or something.”

“Yeah,” was all he could say. 

Why was talking to another person so hard? It shouldn’t have been this difficult, should it?

He watched her head to the sitting area where only his gray sofa was, along with the coffee table. She flopped down on the cushions, the cat wriggling out of her arms to crawl onto the windowsill. Bree looked at Jimin expectantly and for a moment, he didn’t understand what was supposed to happen next. She suddenly patted the empty seat next to her. 

“Well?”

“Uh, right…” Jimin took a step, then stopped himself. “Oh, I didn’t even offer you anything to drink.” He turned to head back to the kitchen.

“It’s fine, seriously, dude.” When he looked back at Bree, he saw her smiling, clearly amused with his flustered behavior. “I said I wanted to talk and I meant it. So c’mere.”

Deciding to just go along with whatever was happening, Jimin crossed the short space and slowly sank onto the couch beside her. His heartbeat thundered like war drums in his ear and he started closing and opening his hands by his knees. This was unreal and he couldn’t figure out what he was supposed to do next.

“So,” she said while clapping her hands together, “let’s try to figure some shit out.”

He whipped his head to look at her, half his vision obscured by his blonde fringe. “H-Huh?”

Bree shrugged while raising her brows. “I mean, don’t you think it’s a little weird that I can see you and the house and no one else can?”

“Well, yeah…” Though Jimin wouldn’t have necessarily called it weird as he would uncircumstantial. 

“There’s got to be some kinda puzzle behind this.” He watched her bite into her lower lip as her brows furrowed in thought this time. Bree gave a low hum, as if she were trying to piece something together in her head. “You’re obviously not a ghost.” She reached out and poked his cheek for good measure, causing Jimin to lean back a bit as his eyes widened in shock. Again, sensations he wasn’t used to feeling. “You look human, but that doesn’t mean you’re not an alien.”

He pouted. “I’m not an alien.”

Bree blinked at him, then laughed at his reaction. “Okay, fine. You’re not an alien then.” She gave her head a slight tilt while placing a hand on her chin. “Are you some kind of angel?”

Jimin relaxed a little. Her teasing nature eased some of the tension that was weighing on his shoulders. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, as stupid as this might sound, it’s because you’re wearing all white.” She gestured to the rest of the house. “The entire house is white.”

“Not all of it.”

“No, you’re right.” Bree leaned back, folding her arms across her chest. “But I can’t think of anything else.”

He sighed a little. Jimin couldn’t help himself, but it happened anyway. “Why can’t I just be human?”

For a while, a small stretch of silence managed to lurk between them. Suddenly, Bree sat up straight and punched her fist into her hand. It startled Jimin, causing him to lean back slightly. Her eyes were shining brightly, like she’d just had an idea.

“That’s it!” 

Bree jumped from the couch and Jimin felt himself standing on impulse. He watched her scrambling to put on her shoes and as he was about to call out to her, she turned to face him. Whatever popped into her head suddenly, she was hellbent on leaving to figure it out. 

“Where are you going?” 

Jimin hadn’t meant to ask. It just slipped out. Part of him worried that if she left, he’d never see her again. This was his one opportunity to be able to actually interact with another person and he didn’t want it taken away from him. The moment felt far too short. 

“I need to get home.” She held up a finger, still smiling. “But don’t worry. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

And before he could ask her what she meant, the girl turned and ran out the door. There was a heaviness that sank over him as the latch clicked. While he didn’t doubt her words, Jimin couldn’t ignore the overwhelming sense of loneliness clinging to him in her absence.

In just a few short minutes, his house felt emptier.

Bree returned the next day.

And the day after that.

And the day after that. 

Until Summer slowly came to an end, yielding into Fall.

Every day that she left and returned, Jimin was both sad and elated. He understood the meaning behind the phrase “welcome back”, even though he never said it out loud. The power of “goodbye” was heavier than he could even begin to fathom. He knew the steps that it took to truly get to know someone, because knowing a person meant cherishing every single feeling and interaction that came with it.

Bree brought over tons of books. Some were reference texts and others were compilations of fairy tales. He didn’t understand the latter until she explained it. And what she managed to divulge actually made a lot of sense.

“See here,” she said, pointing to a paragraph in the tale of Beauty and the Beast, “the Beast wasn’t allowed to leave the castle. There was a spell cast on him, a curse, and the only way the curse would be broken is if a person could see past the beast on the outside and into the heart of the man on the inside.”

Jimin furrowed his brows. “But it says that he was cursed because of his arrogance.” He met Bree’s gaze. “He turned the old woman away who wanted shelter from the storm and that’s why she cursed him.”

“So?”

“So you think I’m cursed?”

Bree sat up straight. “Don’t you?”

He frowned. “What makes you think I’m cursed?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe because no one can see this house or you, but you can see everyone else? Or maybe because you’ve been in isolation so long that that you lost your memories? Or maybe because you can’t go more than two hundred meters in any given direction?” Defiantly, she folded her arms across her chest. “Or maybe because you can’t age and your house is a literal fucking time machine that moves you back and forth from the past, to the present, to the future? Or MAYBE--”

Jimin held his hands up in defeat, not even realizing that he was smiling. “Okay, okay! I get it. Enough already.” He let his hands settle back into his lap. “Okay. Maybe you’re right.”

“Jesus, I wish you would listen to me,” she muttered while brushing her thick curls off her shoulders. Her attention returned to the book and she leaned forward, resting her elbows onto her knees as she scanned the pages again. Jimin came to learn of her sarcastic nature and was often on the receiving end of her tongue lashes. “All of it points to you being cursed, but it doesn’t help that you can’t even remember why you’re here or where you originally came from.” Chin still propped in her hands, she craned her neck to look up at him. “You sure you don’t remember anything?”

A pained expression formed and before he could hide it, Bree was already sitting up again. He could see the apologetic look on her face, and he felt guilty instantly. He hadn’t meant to be so expressive, but the more he interacted with her, the more free he was with his emotions. 

“I’m sorry, Jimin. I didn’t mean it that way--”

“I know,” he said softly, “it’s okay.”

She threaded her fingers through her hair, groaning in aggravation. “God, this is so frustrating!” Again, her attention returned to the book. “What are we missing?”

“A miracle,” Jimin said flatly, to which Bree cuffed him on the shoulder. He laughed from surprise more than actual pain. 

“I’m serious.” She pouted. “There’s gotta be something we’re not paying attention to.”

Jimin couldn’t figure out what the missing piece to the puzzle was. Part of him honestly didn’t care. He was enjoying the time he got to spend with Bree and there was no guarantee that he would be able to return to his original time. It was all just theories and hypothetical possibilities at this point. If it was one thing he learned during all of his travel through various eras in history, it was to value the present. The past and the future were inconsequential.

“Does it really matter?” 

He didn’t miss the look on Bree’s face at his question. But he wondered if it did, in fact, matter? He’d been living his life this way for so long. Interacting with Bree was a variable he hadn’t accounted for. He just wanted to focus on the here and now. 

She sat up a little straighter, then sighed. “Aren’t you tired of living like this?”

Yes, I’m tired of it.

But he knew the truth. She knew it too. When his year was up, Jimin was going to have to leave this place. He would leave it behind just like he did all the others; with no hope of ever returning. Regardless of what he may have wanted, the end result would always be the same.

A lump formed in his throat, making it impossible to respond. He parted his lips to speak, but then gave up. Averting his gaze, he stared at the open book on the table. His vision blurred momentarily as he fought back oncoming tears. A sad smile formed on his lips.

“...does it really matter?”

Jimin saw Bree less and less as the Fall season hit full force. School was back in session and she worked part-time. But she made a point to always come by on her off days or when she finished up with her classes. He was able to glean that she must have lived nearby. Was the area he was in a rural township of sorts? He thought about asking her to bring a magazine or newspaper the next time she decided to pay him a visit, but they were usually caught up with various other conversations and he only remembered long after she was gone.

Her absences weighed heavily on Jimin. They’d been so engrossed in fairy tales and folklore that he often compared himself to Rapunzel, trapped in isolation and waiting for his one true destined one to save him from his prison. It was safe, comfortable, and he wasn’t in chains, but it was a prison just the same. 

The leaves changed color and fell from the branches. Vibrant greens transformed into browns and beige. The flowers were long dead. Jimin could tell from the area that he was in that it would snow and while it was something he was looking forward to, he wondered if it would be safe for Bree to trek around the mountainous area in the dead of night. It wasn’t like he could walk her home like he wanted to. 

He was stuck.

The front door opened, pulling Jimin from his thoughts. He was wrapped up in a blanket on the couch with a book in his lap. The cat, now named Juno thanks to Bree, looked up from her perch on the armrest. Bree stopped knocking on the door months back and there was never a need to lock it. Jimin remembered winning an argument they had about his safety with keeping the door unlocked. There was really no point. No one else could see the house to break in and it wasn’t like he had a key he could give her.

Bree quickly unraveled the scarf from around her neck. She was carrying something in her arms and it smelled sweet. Untangling himself from the blanket, he made his way into the kitchen as Bree busied herself with the dishes. Peering out the window, he saw how dark it was and frowned. 

“It’s late.” 

She pulled out some chocolate chip cookies from the bag and plated them. “Yeah, I know. I got held up at work again.”

“It’s not safe for you to be wandering around up here by yourself so late at night.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You could have just come first thing in the morning.”

Jimin was reprimanding her, but it’d been several days since their last meeting. Secretly, he was happy she was there. 

“Can’t. I have class in the morning.” She handed the plate to him.

The worry lines on his brow deepened. “Then you definitely shouldn’t have come out here.”

Bree rolled her eyes. It was only then that he noticed her bookbag. “Psh, you’d go stir crazy if I didn’t show up today. Besides, I brought cookies as a bribe.”

He’d hardly call that a bribe, but he was happy for the present. 

She poured them both a glass of milk each. He carried the plate to the living room and they both flopped on the couch at the same time. Bree skillfully didn’t spill a single drop of milk before setting the glasses on the table.

“Don’t you have homework?” Jimin nibbled on a cookie as he cast a sideways glance at her.

Rifling through her book bag, she dropped a few notebooks and pencils on top. “I finished it during break at work.” 

He raised his brows as she pulled out extra clothes and set them on the floor by the couch. “Uh, what are you--”

“I’m sleeping over,” she interjected, reaching down to pick up Juno and cuddle her into her lap.

For a while, Jimin said nothing. All he did was stare as she pulled her thick curls back into a low ponytail. 

Finally, it registered.

“W-What?” He turned to fully face her. “You’re staying here?!”

She cut her gaze at him. “Did I stutter?” He was about to ask why, but instead a cookie was pushed into his open mouth. “Besides, I had an idea I wanted to run by you and it couldn’t wait another day.”

Attempting to swallow the cookie, he grabbed the glass of milk and washed most of it down. The awkwardness of her staying over was overshadowed by his curiosity. “What idea?”

Biting into a cookie, she quickly opened one of her notebooks up and showed it to him. “The conditions.” She pointed to a series of bullet markings. “All the folk legends and fairy tales state that certain conditions have to be met in order to break the curse.”

“Okay,” he said while nodding, “but those conditions all stem from knowing what the curse entails, doesn’t it?” Jimin sighed. “So we’re still back at square one.”

Bree set the notebook down suddenly, leaned into his space and soon her face was inches from his own. Blinking rapidly, his heart suddenly thundered heavily against his chest. Jimin’s eyes momentarily crossed when he felt the velvet texture of Bree’s lips brushing against his own. The contact was swift enough that he couldn’t savor it, but long enough for him to get a taste of her cherry lip balm. 

When she finally pulled back, Jimin just stared open-mouthed at Bree. He almost missed the rose tint on her cheeks. Her dark skin tone made it a little bit more difficult to notice it, but the moonlight outside seemed to illuminate her face radiantly. 

Reality sank down on Jimin’s chest as he remembered to breathe. “W-W-Wh-What was that for?!”

“Do you feel any different?” Bree leaned back a little more. “Did it work?”

The absurdity of the question helped Jimin to collect himself. “Does it look like I’m back in my own time?”

“Who says this time isn’t your time?” she countered.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure it would be obvious if it actually worked.” Jimin pointed to a line in her notes. “Something phenomenal always happens soon after a curse is broken. That’s how you know.”

Bree snapped her fingers with a scoff. “Damn!”

Jimin couldn’t keep himself from laughing. “Next you’re gonna tell me to go slay some dragon.”

“If there was a dragon around, you bet your ass I would.” Jimin was thankful she turned away from him so he could focus on steadying his racing heartbeat. She bit her thumb in thought. “A kiss is usually a surefire way to break a curse. Since I’m the first person who’s seen the house and you, I figured that was the answer.”

Brushing his hair out of his eyes, he reached for another cookie. “There are probably more conditions that go along with that.”

Bree tilted her head slightly as she looked back at him. “So you think that I’m a variable in all of this?”

“It wouldn’t make sense for you not to be.” He furrowed his brows and looked back at her notes. “Everything points to you being a part of it. We just have to figure out how.”

Groaning, she flung herself against the couch and began kicking the heels of her feet on the floor in frustration. “This is annoying!” She covered her eyes with her forearm. “I don’t know how people in research and development go through all this trial and error nonsense.”

He flashed her a reassuring smile. “It’s kinda their job, Bree.” 

He watched her slip her arm off her face and flop down beside while she stared up at the ceiling. “Conditions need to be met…”

Jimin lightly poked her forehead to get her attention. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up too much. I’m just thankful for all the help and effort you’ve been putting in on my account.”

She gently moved his hand out the way before sitting up again. “I was so sure we were getting close.”

“We probably are. We just don’t know.” But that also brought up another curious thought. “Why are you so adamant about helping me anyway?”

“Huh?” Her expression clearly stated that she didn’t understand why Jimin would even ask such an obvious question. “I mean, don’t you want to go back to where your friends and family are? They’re probably freakin’ worried out of their heads, y’know?”

He smirked. “I doubt it.” 

There was no cynicism in his tone. Jimin believed that everything happened for a reason. 

He met Bree’s gaze and was surprised to see a tiny flicker of sadness in her umber hues. “I just want to get you home. That’s all.”

Kindness to a complete stranger. It was something archaic to Jimin because he wasn’t able to interact with people for quite some time. He knew that the people he cared about more than likely moved on with their lives after his disappearance. But Jimin also knew that if he miraculously wound up getting back to his original timeline, then it would settle all the other paradoxes surrounding his involvement. Things would go back to normal, in theory. Whoever placed this curse on him must have realized this, hence why he was unable to interact with people until now.

Leaning forward, he reached out to Bree and pulled her into his arms. He heard her gasp softly, his motions completely unexpected even to him. But he couldn’t think of any other way to express his gratitude. In the months he’d gotten to know her, he knew that Bree was rough around the edge but was genuinely a good person. Her determination to get him home, to the place where he belonged, more than evident in her actions. They weren’t just empty words. 

Jimin could perceive that now after having been denied human interaction for many years.

“Thank you…” 

When he pulled back, their noses were just barely touching. Then he leaned in to press his lips against hers. He tasted the sweetness of the cookies and her cherry lip balm all over again. Jimin slowly urged her lips apart with his tongue, silently asking for entrance. When she complied, he slid his tongue across her teeth and over her own pink muscle. 

The sigh mingled with the moan Bree managed to push out from her chest and he pulled her even closer so he would be able to hear her heartbeat. Bree’s hands slowly slid up his torso, resting her palms on his chest. Jimin took his time pulling and nipping at her full lips, enjoying the sweet taste of her mouth. Part of it was the cookie. Part of it was her lip balm. The rest was just simply how she tasted naturally.

As their lips parted, he smiled and bumped his forehead against her own. Even though his shadow covered half of her face, he could feel the warmth simmering along the surface of her skin. Jimin closed her notebook with one hand, still smiling as he stared into her face.

“I know as the host, I should be nice and offer you my bed while I take the couch. But would you be against us both using the bed?”

Bree blinked a few times, then flashed a devious grin. “I wouldn’t be against it, no.”

Jimin immediately scooped Bree into his arms, carrying her like a new bride. There wouldn’t be any mischief. At least, that wouldn’t be the plan. All he wanted was to savor this moment, the sound of Bree’s laughter as he carted her off to the bedroom, Juno hot on their heels. 

The house didn’t feel so big anymore and the joy Jimin felt was indescribable. 

Fall was fleeting and Winter swept in faster than Jimin could have anticipated. The house was warm as per the conditions it needed for him to remain comfortable. His clothes changed to suit the shift in temperature. He had to be thankful for all that the house was able to provide for him. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle actually having to do everything on his own outside of the normal things. 

As much as he fussed at Bree for wanting to continue to trek up the mountain to see him, Jimin relished in the closeness that blossomed even further between them. 

True to his word, they didn’t actually do anything that night. He had a sense of morals and a conscience, not wanting to seem like he was trying to take advantage of Bree’s kindness and affection toward him. Outside of kissing, they just cuddled and slept in the bed. He wouldn’t go further than that and Bree seemed to pick up on his need to not press things too far.

Jimin was just glad that Bree took everything surrounding his circumstances in stride. She was understanding, open-minded, and willing to help. He couldn’t imagine what it would have been like between them if she’d been a full-blown skeptic. 

They never put a label on what they were to each other. He didn’t know about her, but Jimin felt there wasn’t a need. In six months’ time, he would disappear from her life like a passing dream. Maybe she would come to forget him. She would move on as if nothing changed and continue to strive towards her own aspirations. Jimin would remain in his proverbial prison, clinging to the memories that he’d made with her; hoping to seek solace on the more lonely nights when he knew he would inevitably miss her.

It was getting even colder out. He didn’t want Juno going out and getting frostbite in the snow that was slowly starting to pile up outside. The cat made a fuss about it initially, but after walking around just by the window, she understood that her little paws weren’t going to like being wet and cold. 

Despite the biting chill of the air, Jimin admired how picturesque everything looked. The floral landscape was completely covered in a blanket of fresh powder. Even if he hadn’t met Bree, he was still lucky to be able to enjoy scenery like this. Traveling through time helped him to appreciate all forms of nature, but he couldn’t get enough of these images. 

He had a pot of coffee brewing and the aroma filtered throughout the house. He wasn’t big on coffee. Not usually. Jimin slept when he felt like it and was awake when he wanted to be. Having coffee seemed almost a little pointless. But ever since he met Bree, he’d indulged here and there. It was more for her sake than his own since it was apparent that she didn’t get much sleep. Even less since having met him.

His brows furrowed slightly, shaking off the guilt that tried to sit on the forefront of his mind. Jimin knew it was her own choice that kept her coming back. No one else’s. She would have smacked him for trying to shoulder the responsibility all on his own and it wasn’t fair for him to take it.

As he poured himself a cup of coffee, he noticed the small clock on the counter. It was a present from Bree. There was nothing fancy about it. Just a simple clock that only needed batteries changed out every so often. She left said batteries in a drawer. Jimin scoffed about not needing to know the time, his predicament making it obvious as to why. 

“Just because you never know where you wind up doesn’t mean you should ignore what time it is while you’re there.”

Jimin’s lips pulled into a small smile. She was right. This, and many things, were the small lessons that he was beginning to finally learn. As if it was Bree’s purpose to teach them to him. 

It would make leaving her that much harder. 

He entered the living room after checking the time, his free hand reaching out to unlatch the window. Despite the cold, Jimin still wanted to get a bit of fresh air circulating inside of the house. The sun had long since set and Bree would be battling through the cold to see him. He saw a few flurries starting to float from the sky, his brows furrowing at the thought of the snow falling heavier and further impeding Bree’s trek up the mountain.

I hope she takes it slow…

The worry didn’t start setting in until several hours passed by. Initially, he simply shrugged it off as nothing. It wasn’t unheard of for Bree to be late. She could’ve easily gotten caught up with her job or even hanging out with her friends from school. The group she came up there with seemed close. 

But as the night pushed onward with no sign of Bree in sight, Jimin began to get a little concerned.

Unlatching the window, he pushed it open and a rush of cold air whipped across his body. The chill shot down his spine, causing his skin to pepper out in goosebumps. The muscles in his shoulder grew taut as he fought back the urge to shiver. Juno meowed in protest to the cold, hopping down onto the couch to curl herself against one of the throw pillows. The full moon hung like a pearl in the sky, illuminating the world around him. 

In the distance, he heard several howls. Their cries filled the night air, indicating that they were gathering together. Possibly for a hunt. The prospect of food in the area seemed a little slim, but Jimin didn’t think it was impossible. Especially if they were making rounds in preparation to stalk their prey. 

Fear suddenly gripped at Jimin’s chest. Juno’s mewling snapped him out of his trance and he hopped out of the window. The cold nipped at his feet, but he didn’t care. He could barely feel it. The snow crunched under his feet as the wind continued to push around him, the flurries falling heavier than they had a few hours earlier. 

He cupped his hands around his mouth. “BREE!” His voice echoed over the wide expanse of the landscape. “WHERE ARE YOU?”

There was nothing. Nothing save for the sound of his voice bouncing back at him. 

And then he heard a scream.

Jimin trounced forward, wading through several feet of snow. Desperation pushed him forward, forcing him to start running. He pumped his legs into the ground as hard as he could until he slammed into the invisible wall. The force of impact knocked him back-first into the snow and the cold clung to every inch of his skin. Not wasting a single second, he scrambled back onto his feet and began kicking and punching the wall, clawing at the barrier with his bare hands. At some point he started to scream, but he couldn’t remember when. The burning sensation rippling down his throat kept him alert until something snapped inside of him.

The sound of glass shattering echoed in his head. It was loud, like an explosion. Before he’d realized what’d happened, he was taking off at a dead run toward the cluster of trees near the base of the mountain. The world was a blur around him as he sped off toward his destination, following the howls of the wolves as his need to find Bree overshadowed all other rational thoughts that made vain attempts to come to the surface.

Pain registered in the back of his mind as he ran. The dying branches from trees and bushes seemed to reach out in their need to snatch him in the darkness. Jimin used the moonlight to guide him as twigs snapped against his body and dying leaves crunched under his bare feet.

Predatory snarls loomed around him, spurning him forward. Bree’s scream tore through the night, signaling where her location was. Slipping on wet grass, he crashed to his knees and rolled through the snow. The momentum helped him to get back up, making a quick right through the forest as the barks of wolves became louder. 

Bursting through a thicket of trees, he entered a clearing and saw half a dozen wolves in a semicircle advancing toward their prey. They turned in sync with one another in his direction as they bared their fangs at him. Bree was on the ground and holding her ankle while trying to shuffle back as much as she could. Jimin’s eyes met hers for a split second and he saw her face was red, splotchy,  and slick with tears.

“J-Jimin!”

Rage flared across Jimin’s chest as he picked up a broken tree branch. One of the wolves launched forward, his jet claws and pearl fangs gleaming in the moonlight. Jimin roared and swung with all the strength he could muster, the branch striking true as he slammed into the side of the wolf’s head. A sharp cry of pain came from the wild animal as it fell into the snow. The other wolves raised their hackles and moved toward him, snarling heavily as the clouds from their breath puffed in front of their snouts. 

Jimin took a second to glance at the branch in his hands and quickly assessed that he would be able to get one or two more hits in before it completely snapped. Splinters were lodged into his palms, stinging along his skin. He pushed the pain back as far as he could manage, taking a step forward as his grip tightened around the branch. 

“Bree, are you alright?” he asked. He sighed quickly at her nod. When he saw her about to stand, Jimin held his hand out to her. “Stay there!”

The wolves took this as their opportunity to attack and two of them leaped at Jimin. He swung out and hit one of their forelegs, causing the animal to hop back on three legs as it whined. The other wolf went for Jimin’s calf, forcing him to lift his leg up and out of the snow. The injured wolf launched himself from the snow and snapped his jaws. Jimin barely had time to react, using the branch as a shield and watching with horror as it snapped between the wolf’s teeth. 

A sharp pain registered on Jimin’s shoulder and he fell forward as another wolf’s weight smacked into his back. Claws dug into his skin beneath his sweater and the white fabric instantly stained crimson as the wolf bit mercilessly down into the meat of his shoulder. Crying out, he struggled to move out of the way as more of the wolves advanced on him. 

Bree’s scream brought him out back from nearly drowning in his agony and he looked up in time to see her throwing rocks at the wolves. One of them hit the wolf that was biting him, forcing him to release his grip. They snarled, making their way toward her. Jimin pushed himself up and ran at the wolf closest to her, kicking up a spray of white powder in its face. Without wasting another second, he snatched Bree’s wrist in his bleeding hand and pulled her onto her feet.

They ran like their lives depended on it.

The wolves kicked up snow as they gave chase, barking and snapping their jaws menacingly. Jimin’s vision blurred every so often, but the ensuing stumble quickly brought him back into focus. He tried to maintain his speed while also being conscientious of Bree as he pulled her along. Jimin could just barely hear their heavy breathing over the pounding of his heart. 

Jimin believed it was instinct that led him back to the house. Or was it the house itself pulling him by an invisible string? He didn’t question his surroundings and continued to run, his only concern for Bree’s safety. He was ready to force her to leave him behind if necessary.

Bursting through the treeline, they continued to run from their pursuers. The wolves gave chase only so far, however, and stopped completely as they rushed in through the front door. Jimin crashed onto the floor and Bree hurriedly slammed it shut. His breathing was labored as he lay there, his vision coming in and out of focus as he tried to stabilize his racing heartbeat. 

“Jimin!”

He could only just barely hear Bree’s voice. It felt so far away. Why did it feel so far away from him?

Something warm touched his back and he instantly took comfort in it. And then his body began to turn over. The sounds of wolf howls echoed through the night, announcing their retreat. They would not indulge in a meal tonight, forced to make due with empty stomachs.

“Are you crazy?!” Bree’s hand swept over his brow, brushing his bangs off his forehead. He couldn’t tell what her expression was, only that it was a mixture of fear and anger. “What were you thinking?!”

Her voice cracked a few times. Jimin could tell she was fighting back against something. But what, he couldn’t be sure. She cupped his cheek with her palm, sending more warm sensations across his entire body.

A hand’s warmth. 

It was something that people so often took for granted. 

Reaching up, he grasped at Bree’s wrist. “I’m so glad…”

Her face came into focus and he could see the tears sliding down her cheeks. She blinked down at him in confusion. “W-What?”

Jimin smiled. “I’m so glad...I was able to keep your hands...from getting cold.”

Bree sobbed, pulling him closer to her chest while burying her face into the juncture of his neck. “No! Please stop talking! Just...please stop…”

Letting her hand go, he started to pet her wild, curly hair. Bree gasped, pulling back a measure so she could look at him. He was happy she did so. Now he could see her beautiful face.

A strange sensation tingled over his skin, all the way down to the tips of his toes. He shouldn’t have been able to feel anything near his feet. They were more than likely frostbitten by now. But he wiggled them just to be sure, and the tingling feeling continued to increase. 

His body started to feel light, the sensation moving around in his stomach, through his lungs, and swirled around the center of his chest. Blinking, he shifted his gaze toward the window and felt his lips part slowly as he watched an aurora paint itself over the darkness. 

What? Jimin thought, confusion settling over his heart, What is happening?

The aurora transformed into a pink and purple nebula, the stars swirling from the center until they fanned out in strange, ethereal tendrils. Jimin tried to sit up, but felt he had no control over his body. Only that it was getting lighter and lighter for some reason. 

Was the house preparing to jump again? But it was too soon! He still had several more months before it was time. 

“What’s going on?” Bree asked, and he looked down to see what she was talking about. Gasping, he could only stare in shock as her body was now visible through his own. “What’s happening?!”

“I...I don’t know.” 

Lifting his hands up to his face, he saw the tingling sensation now manifested into tiny glowing particles along his skin. With each passing second, his body grew lighter and more transparent, until he started to float off the ground. Bree tried to grab for him, but to her horror and his own, her hands passed right through him. Jimin moved to touch her, and while he could feel her body, the physical sensation was absent. 

Was the curse finally broken?

“No!” he yelled suddenly. The distance between them started to increase and they both attempted to reach for the other in vain, their hands dissolving into one another. “Not yet!”

Jimin’s body lifted higher off the ground and the glowing particles brightened. Bree quickly stood on her feet and he saw Juno appear in between her ankles. The cat meowed in protest as they seemed to get further and further away from him.

“Don’t go!” shouted Bree as she tried to jump and reach for him, but he was too far away.

Was this really the end?

“I love you!” Jimin yelled suddenly, causing Bree to stop her attempts to pull him back. 

She blinked up at him. “J-Jimin…”

A sad smile formed on his lips. This was inevitable. There was nothing they could do to stop this. He was going back to his own time now; to his own world.

“I love you so much…”

Bree gasped, covering her mouth. But when it seemed he would pass through the ceiling, she lowered her hands and flashed the same sad smile back up to him.

“...I love you too.”

And as though those were the magic words, everything quickly disappeared around him. The house, Bree, the cat. Everything was replaced with a swirling galaxy of stars and a colorful galaxy. A harsh wind pushed through his body, pulsing over the plane of his skin, and he felt his tears spilling from his eyes. Time slowed and sped up simultaneously and he curled himself into a ball, burying his face in his hands as he sobbed.

Jimin should have been elated. He was going back to his time. Things were going to finally fit themselves into the right place. All the pieces of the puzzle were found.

But at that moment, Jimin felt more alone than he had in all the years he’d spent in that house.

Because he’d loved and lost in what felt like a single snapshot of time.

His curse was lifted, but he felt emptier than he’d ever been.

To Jimin, his true curse was only just beginning.

[ad-write-it]

FanFiction:

Laughable or Legitimate?

For anyone who’s spent more than 15 minutes at a time on the internet, the concept and practice of fanfiction is all too familiar. And, depending entirely upon prior experience, the assumptions that word summons can be vastly different. Some view fanfiction as nothing more than pathetic self-insert smut for the perverse satisfaction of lonely teens and incredibly disturbed adults, while others view it as an introductory exercise in creative writing with the generous boost of being handed preexisting characters and an already established world. Both of these assumptions have strong arguments behind them, but first I feel like I need to define by what I’ll be referring to when I use the term ‘fanfiction.’

Fanfiction is, by commonly accepted definition, written content directly based on an established work of fiction. Fanmade animations, animatics, art, short films and songs do not qualify as fanfiction through this definition, despite being functionally identical. Fanfiction is explicitly limited to the writing, occasionally also being represented through readings, an on even rarer instanes being portrayed through audio dramas (a critically underrated medium, though that’s a topic for another time).

With that established, let’s dive into addressing the negative connotations that the term ‘fanfiction’ brings up in a lot of people’s minds.

Starting with the mindlessly lewd (is there any other kind?) content that is pushed out by the metric ton online. No matter how vehemently you defend fanfiction, there is absolutely no denying how oversaturated the medium is with the perverse imitation of romance. Though a minute number of ‘adult’ works can and have been written as a joke to varying degrees of success, an overwhelming majority are disturbingly unironic. If two or more characters have shared as much as a glance, for some psychological reason that probably hints at a cry for help more than anything, the hormonal teenagers and touch-starved adults of the internet will put them in bed together. Sometimes all it takes is for two characters from completely separate multiverses to glint across the same computer screen and people will attempt to combine them sexually as quickly and as passionately as possible.

However, it is a fallacy to blame this phenomenon primarily on fanfiction. Appealing to the lowest common denominator of human nature is unfortunately a staple of the romance genre in general, and is such an infectious practice that you’ll find examples of it in every nation that has produced a large amount of fiction. Sexualization in general is heavily linked to this practice, and is part of why I heavily and vehemently advocate for minimum sexualization of any character regardless of gender. Combine that with the freedom to mash two characters from separate IPs together in the same story, and is it any wonder that we end up with so many bizarre and disturbing fanfictions?

Another commonly raised criticism against fanfiction is the low quality of writing, which is one I myself have raised a lot and have had leveled against me. For good reason, because once again the vast majority of fanfictions are written by the same generations that decided Harry Potter was the peak of cinema. Needless to say most stories’ grasp on the English language, proper story structure, objective writing quality, prose and human dialogue is about as firm as the soil in a swamp. And, just as in the previous example, this is not something limited to fanfiction. Anyone who has spent any amount of time reading more than 5 books (or has watched more than 2 movies) will know that the problem of poor grammar and talentless attempts at constructing anything resembling a coherent narrative is something that plagues the writing industry. I won’t throw stones from glass houses either; a lot of my previous and current attempts at writing are disgusting to read, and I imagine I’ve made several punctuation errors in this post alone. But my point still stands, and I hold myself to the exact same standards I hold others to. Bad writing is bad writing, and it has nothing to do with genre or medium. It is entirely dependant upon the skill, drive and passion of the writer.

Something that should also be taken into account is that fanfiction is most often written by inexperienced and/or young authors. That is not to say that criticism against fanfictions are immediately rendered invalid because of this, which they aren’t, my sole reason in pointing that out is to temper the expectations acordingly. These aren’t aspiring young adults fresh out of college with an English major, these are kids and adults that do it for fun. Constructive criticism can and should be offered, but only if it’s genuinely constructive and tailored to its intended purpose. Take as much care in crafting your criticism as you expect them to put into crafting their stories.

The one drawback I feel is inherent to fanfiction is that a large portion of it relies upon you being at least casually familiar with the source material it’s based off of. A lot of the times it will contain references to events that people outside a specific fanbase will not know about, or it will be laced with in-jokes and labelled a comedy where to an outsider it’s only a passable slice of life. This is one of the primary reasons I ceased writing fanfiction, since I feel it inherently limits your growth once you reach a high enough skill level. At some point you have to branch out and attempt to define your own characters and worlds, expanding into writing your own original tales.

In conclusion, fanfiction is no worse or better than any other writing medium. It fosters the same amount of creativity and talent as anything else, as well as falls victim to the same number of shortcomings and human errors. It’s great for writers new and old to experiment with characters and worlds they know, while at the same time enabling the worst of the worst when it comes to smut and incoherent stories. I’ve read phenomenally moving fanfictions as much as I’ve seen the English language be grotesquely mutilated in officially published books, and vice versa.

[a-skirmish-of-wit-and-lit]

Book Review: The Midnight Bargain by C.L. Polk

Categorically speaking, were I to compare this book to others I've read, I'd say it's the romance equivalent of The Selection meets the power, sorcery, and ambitious yearning of The Folk of the Air series.

The result was an intriguing mash-up of genre, of theme. It was one where fantasy waltzes with feminism, with magical agency, then tangos with the restrictions of a regency-era patriarchy.

The story itself follows two young sorceresses, Beatrice and Ysbeta, through a coming out year called the Bargaining Season where they're expected to attend parties, attract suitors, and marry well. However, a major caveat arises when that expectation clashes with their mutual desire to continue developing their powers like men do, and become a Magus. The problem is that married women in their society aren't allowed to practice magic. They're collared. Meaning that magic is zapped from them at 'I do' in order to protect their unborn children.

(Can I get a collective BOOOO at that or what? Hear, hear!)

Since neither Beatrice nor Ysbeta wishes to suffer this fate or sacrifice the sorceress part of their identities, there's only one thing to do: avoid marriage. And to accomplish that, to keep their magic, they must not only learn how to summon a Greater Spirit to help them but find a way to navigate the matchmaking trials and triumphs of the season together.

Things become a little hairy once family, love, grimoires, and spirits come into the fray. But you know what they say...

Magic always comes with a price.

The book was enjoyable overall. Just not hit-it-out-of-the-park outstanding.

I found the world-building to be immersive yet also lacking in detail. I would've liked to have a better understanding of the world the characters were inhabiting - the kingdoms/countries, the languages, the chapterhouses etc- because you're thrown into the middle of it all without a tether. Without any kind of explanation as to where these places are or how they've come to exist. It would've been nice to be able to picture some of the locations better. Imagine the varying cultures and customs.

Ianthe and Beatrice were a tad too instalove-y for my taste as well. They converse for two seconds in a bookshop and PLING! Cupid's arrow strikes! That said, I did appreciate the way he listened to her charges about the injustices women face with regards to magic later on, taking the time to evaluate her arguments, giving them serious thought and consideration. I like a man who fights for his lady to be free and happy, to have agency. That's the way it should be!

Harriet, Beatrice's younger sister, also reminded me so much of Taryn Duarte. Not the duplicitous side of her, mind you, but the part of her that was rule and honor-bound to follow Father's/society's mores. There are times you want to slap her because she's so preachy bordering on condescending.

Nadi was my favorite character by far, though. She was such an infectious little spirit--so vivacious and gleeful, so "carpe diem" in attitude. I particularly loved that she was always hex-ready to defend her friend from meanies. In fact, I think Casper may have a new rival for the Cutest Spirit Award!

Though I wished the magical system had been explored more and that the romance had been more dynamic, I still found a lot to enchant here. It's definitely worth a bargain. So read it, why don't you?

Thanks so much to NetGalley, Edelweiss, and Erewhon Books for the ARC! 3/5 stars

[da-chi]

Let me tell you something...

Possible triggers: Internalized aphobia, non-explicit sex mentions, mentions of anxiety.

Excuse my grammar/wording/spelling/sentence placement problems. English isn't my first language and I tried my best.

So. I’m usually not one to talk about personal stuff with friend or family, much less online, but I felt the need to write AND share the story about how I dealt with being a-spec and just finding out recently (today) that it is ok to not have all the answers right at this moment, and that I’m not the only one who felt like didn’t belong, like something in her didn’t fit in “normalcy”. So here it is, I hope you don’t get bored. 

All my life (or as far as I can remember) I’ve always felt off. Off like something was missing in me, or the way I viewed things.

 I was a kid who liked “boys” stuff for a while, and then I started liking “girls” stuff, and then it was all a mash-up of both, which my mother always accepted and supported, so I felt like that “off thing” wasn’t my tastes or my gender identity. I always got along with boys better than with girls when younger and that was never questioned either, not by my family nor myself, so that wasn’t “it” either. When growing up I started getting along with older people better than kids/teenagers my own age, and I started having a better relationship with girls than with boys. Mind you, I thought all of this was normal, and it is, but I never stopped and asked myself “Why am I going around trying to fit in? What am I looking for? What ‘s missing?”.

I had a few crushes when I was a teenager, all of them were boys who looked a certain type of way, all of them impossible to have: one of them liked my best friend, the other was too old for me, and the other liked the most popular girl. The interesting thing was that I never felt the “urge” to be with them, or the pain from not being able to be in a relationship with them. I was content with just being their friend, even helping them get together with their own crushes. The thought of being in a romantic relationship never crossed my mind. I never once thought that me not having any sort of interest in love and even sex while my peers were already experiencing all of that was “unordinary”. 

During the time I was 16 I thought for a while that maybe my lack of interest was probably because I just didn’t like boys, so in my last year of high school with the help of alcohol (pls kids don’t do this, drinking underage is illegal) I had my first kiss, ever. With a girl. And I didn't like it. Nope, it wasn’t because it was with a girl or just because she didn’t kiss well, because she did, I think ( I was inexperienced, ok?). It was because the act of kissing struck me like nothing more than just a very long exchange of saliva and an awkward tongue swords play. Me being me ignored that fact by just thinking “probably it’ll feel different when I actually like someone.” 

2 of my 3 best friends had never had any sort of relationship and were not in a rush to be in one, so I thought I was just the same as them.

……………………….

Brief pause to pat my young, innocent, oblivious, and confused 16 yo self.

*pats*

Ok let’s continue

……………………... 

Didn’t really think about the matter again until I was 17, moved to another country with a different language and the family I hadn’t seen for 14 years started asking the questions people asked my mom instead of me “Any boyfriend? Do you like someone? How many boyfriends have you had? None? Why? Are your standards that high? What’s wrong?”

And then I remembered. I remembered never wanting a boyfriend. I remembered never really liking someone. I remembered craving friendship with multiple and all sorts of people, but never craving something that should be normal to crave for at my age. I remembered always thinking that something in me felt like was “turned off”, and never really thinking about it (Now I know it was because I was scared of what I would find if I looked into it, scared that I wasn’t “normal”). I remember my mother being asked about me and my lack of any type of interest in the matter and her saying “there’s no rush. It’ll come when it has to come.” 

.

.

.

I did not, in fact, know what was wrong with me. 

The anxiety I’d had since the age of 14 started getting worse and worse and the voice inside of my head wouldn’t stop asking what was wrong with us. That voice started attacking me, calling me names like “heart of ice” or “ice queen” (as cliche as it sounds), would never shut up about how I would end up alone because no one ever could love someone who couldn’t love. “How can you love romance books and not like someone real? Are you nuts? You probably are. You are broken.”

I got scared of myself and others too.

I always was a bright, outgoing yet shy person; my friendly nature always making me want to be close to people, but after my anxiety became a bottomless pit I started pushing people away in an unusual way. I would get close to them enough to call them friends but after a while, I would distance myself from them, never replying to texts or always canceling on them, for instance. I made sure I kept myself close enough to never feel lonely but the moment I felt too close I would take 2 steps back. (This, sadly, is something I still have to deal with and am trying to change, not only with friends but family too.)

……………………………..

Months after I felt my first “like” for someone (which honestly it was just me being completely dazed by his kindness, nothing more). It was fast and stupid and didn’t make sense, I was learning a new language and starting a new job and we just got close and I knew it had no future but I didn’t care because I had hope again, hope that I wasn’t broken and could finally talk about butterflies and fireworks and even heartbreak. 

He liked me back (surprise!!), but I remember not being happy, nor excited, nor…. Disappointed. 

“Probably if I kiss him I’ll know if I really like him. Perhaps, if I kiss him, I will feel something again.”

After a very, very uncomfortable and wet and too long for my liking kiss, I remember feeling nothingness, emptiness, the kind you feel when you aren’t hungry nor full. Like when you listen to a song you used to love but feel nothing and think nothing, just an “Oh. Cool. That’s a nice song.”

 It didn’t work out of course.

“Probably he just wasn’t the right one.”

 I lost a friend and a little bit of myself after that.

……………………………..

At the age of 18, my best friend confessed to me, he told me he had liked me for a long time. Of course, my oblivious self didn’t notice and hurt him, hard. 

Worst part, I didn’t like him back. I was so afraid because I knew what that meant. My best friend would leave me because broken me couldn’t make herself feel something for him. (I was in a dark place guys, pls bare with my drama.)

And yet, I would never lie about something so serious, so I didn’t. And I was right, he said he couldn’t deal with just being my friend, and he was completely right. I could not ask him to still be friends when he felt so much for me. I just didn’t understand (because how could I?), but I agreed and respected his feelings. He was several years older than me and had had past serious relationships, so I trusted his experience. 

After several days of no communication whatsoever, he texted me again and devoted all his free time to win me over, no kidding.

(Later I would find out it was my mother who convinced him that he had to fight for me, that I was just, for some reason, scared and closed off to the idea of having a relationship. She blamed my dad, whom I didn’t have a good relationship with for a good chunk of my life, for being the reason why I never let any man get close enough to me. How could I blame her? She never suspected I was different because I never told her anything.)

And a month later, I started liking him. Like, really, really, liking him. We started going out and eventually, I fell in love. I loved the way he would make me feel. I loved how much he accepted me and how open-minded he was. I loved we liked most of the same stuff and that our hobbies were so alike. I loved how different he was to my dad. I loved how gentlemanly he was. I loved many things about him; I loved him in my own, different way. Different, because kisses for him were butterflies and summer and oceans and to me never felt any different than just two mouths moving against each other; they weren’t disgusting, they weren’t meaningless, they just were kisses. Different, because he needed sexual affection, and I didn’t. Different, because sex was such an important thing for him, that I would do it just to make him happy. Different, because to me, joining hands and cuddling were more than enough to show my love. It was different, not less or more, even if he believed until the last day that he loved me more.

I broke up with him two years later and it was painful and ugly and illuminating.

Heartbreak meant that my dependency on him needed to be replaced with dependency on myself. I needed to trust and listen to myself more than ever. I needed to stop looking for validation and assurance that “yes, you are normal, you just take your time.” 

I needed to stop listening to the voice that repeated “you will always hurt whoever approaches you because you can’t give them what they need” over and over again.

Being alone trying to find answers made me join a talented community that welcomed me with open arms and a lot of love and acceptance. A community that gave me the gift of meeting extraordinary people who, in their own way, felt the same as me and never rejected/judged me for that. Made me realize that my taste in stuff is broader than I thought and that it was ok to like certain stuff. It made me accept myself and others. Made me take pride in who I was and never, ever, feel bad about it.

Thanks to this community, and these people, I got to understand I was Demiromantic Asexual (with gray areas).

That not wanting kids is not some crazy millennial nonsense like my family kindly (haha) makes sure to let me know every time I bring the topic up. 

That being indifferent to kisses and sex but needing affection and hugs and touches is not contradicting.

That being open to being with someone but also being happy alone is normal.

In my 20s I wholly comprehend I still have a lot to learn about myself, that I might not fall fully under one label but many and I don’t know yet, but that’s what growing up means. And for the first time in my whole life, I’m excited to see what more I have to offer.

……………………………..

Notes: Special thanks to @kkazulwolf because they were kind and awesome enough to listen to me, let me ask questions and reassure me It is ok.

[zephyrises]

character sheet.

full name.  ventus pronunciation.  ven-tuhs (which is not at all how the latin word is actually pronounced but don’t worry about it) nicknames.  venty-wenty

height.  5′5″ age.  verse dependent. 12 in ux, 16 in bbs and going on 17 in post-kh3. zodiac.  taurus, with his new birthday. original unknown. languages.  japanese. everyone understands everyone else in kingdom hearts anyway, though?? doesn’t matter which world they’re on. it’s that Disney Magic(tm), ig.

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour.  golden blonde that edges towards platinum. eye colour.  forest green. skin tone.  pale with yellow undertones. body type.  slight, but athletic. accent.  none, per se, but he will shorten words, mash words together and use some slang. dominant hand.  ambidextrous. he tends to stick with his right, though. posture.  very lax and casual. in battle, he uses a unique and antiquated, backhanded stance. tattoos.  none in any of my canon or canon based verses, even though he likes the idea of it! but in my collegeverse, he’s saving up to get lines drawn between the birthmarks on his back so they look like constellations. most noticeable features.  definitely his eyes, freckles, smile and the armor he wears on his feet, upper arm and abdomen. i’d say that the way he moves around is pretty attention catching in and of itself, considering how speedy, floaty and bouncy he is even without necessarily needing or intending to be. he’s also a bit small for his age, both in terms of height and weight.

CHILDHOOD.

place of “birth.”  daybreak town. hometown.  likely daybreak town. birth weight / height.  unknown.. manner of birth.  as weird as it sounds, necromancy. first words.  unfortunately, “yes, master.” siblings.  luxu could technically constitute in uxverse, depending upon how the both of them would view their situation. otherwise, he starts to think of terra and aqua as his older siblings sometime before the events of birth by sleep and then forever onward. parents.  in a terrihorrible way, the master of masters. if he had any parents before his body was re-animated, then it would be impossible to trace them now. he thinks of eraqus as a father figure, but his feelings on the matter are a big ol’ can of worms. parental involvement.  mom locked him up and used him for experiments. eraqus locked him up, good intentions notwithstanding, and tried to kill him. in other words, not the best!

ADULT LIFE

occupation.  post-kh3, he’s a guardian of light and keyblade master in training. the way aqua and yen sid have it slated, he’ll be taking his mark of mastery exam when he turns 18! current residence.  the land of departure, for now. even though he wouldn’t say it aloud to terra or aqua, he’d really like to leave and live somewhere new someday. close friends.  based off current canon, terra, aqua, lea, isa, sora, minnie, stitch, lilo, cinderella, jaq, hercules and peter pan. i see him having really good chemistry with vanitas, kairi, naminé, roxas, xion, ienzo, riku and demyx too, barring some development and circumstances! relationship status.  i don’t portray ven as having been in any romantic relationship or harboring romantic feelings towards anyone up until post-kh3. what happens from then on is a toss up depending on who i’m interacting with. i.e., right now, he’s dating @midnightpapllion​​ and has a budding crush on @rxcusant​​‘s vanitas! he’s a good-natured cutie, though, so other teenagers have flirted with him plenty during his travels. he’s just inexperienced and completely oblivious to the intent unless it’s spelled out for him, which tends to discourage most. financial status.  eraqus left a small fortune that he, aqua and terra use exclusively for groceries and supplies for missions. otherwise, he’s got a modest amount of spending money from traversing the worlds. he just doesn’t spend it on much aside from snacks and souvenirs. driver’s license.  cars are Completely nonexistent in his world. he only rides a keyblade glider and, even though there prrrrrobably should be, there’s no actual license required for that. criminal record.  this one time, he harassed some old men in the woods and beat up a cat about twenty times his size. those instances aside, he’s not necessarily above crime or violence as long as it isn’t Too uncouth and serves a purpose, so he’s probably got at least a little more on his rap sheet.

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation.  pansexual. romantic orientation.  demi and panromantic. preferred emotional role. submissive | dominant | switch |  unsure preferred sexual role.  submissive |  dominant  |  switch |  sex repulsed libido. turn on’s. turn off’s. love language.  even though he’d fail to notice a lot of the patterns himself, ven’s would consist predominantly of physical touch, acts of service and gift giving. as of terra and aqua’s involvement in his life, he’s become a huge touchy feely type. shoulder, arm and back touches, hugging and hand holding are all pretty normal for him in any sort of relationship, but lingering touches would be the big cue where romantic attraction is present. longer or more common hugs as opposed to just short lived hugs of greeting, parting or comfort. increasingly consistent tapping, leaning, nudging or hand holding for no particular reason other than because he gets a random urge to instigate it. acts of service would mostly just boil down to doing a lot of cooking or baking, but if he was in a position to and it wouldn’t be Weird to do so, he’d happily tidy up for someone or do their laundry, too! since the person in question would be on his mind a lot, he’d feel inclined to grab something up if it reminds him of them. probably stuff like flowers, pretty rocks or shells, accessories, snacks, things they’ve mentioned/he’s Noticed they enjoy, etc. etc. relationship tendencies.  mileage may vary for all of this depending on his partner’s personality and boundaries, obviously, but i’m willing to bet he’d be doting and clingy. he’s clingy with pretty much everyone once they give him an inch anyway, so i don’t think anybody would be too surprised or put off if they’ve already been hanging around long enough for him to develop feelings. definitely a little shy when it comes time to say i love you, kiss, go out or snuggle non-platonically, but not awkward or uncertain. the friendship that came before would be the foundation, after all, and he wouldn’t view a romance as something separate from that. more like another layer on top that they can navigate and define together. baseline, his flirting style is a combination of undisguised adoration and big time teasing. aaaand generally, he’d also be very attentive! he accounts for the tinier details, even if he can’t always make sense of them without posing a question or two.

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song.  i love the canon version of his theme, but i’m linking project destati’s version in particular because it’s orchestrated and extended and kills me dead. hobbies to pass the time.  adventures, walks, star gazing, star charting, flower pressing, bird watching, cooking, ukulele, and the biggie.... NAPPING. mental illnesses.  depression and ptsd. physical illnesses.  you could definitely argue that having his darkness stripped from him is more of a spiritual or mental condition, but to me, it’s a physical one. i think of it like having an organ removed from your body (say, a chunk of your goddamn HEART) or being on the receiving end of blunt trauma. there are mental and spiritual effects, sure. it contributed to his ptsd, depression, and an amnesiac episode, but xehanort stabbed him to make it happen and he’s got the scar and near death experience to prove it, so we’re calling it a physical illness in my house. a reaaaally strange, completely unparalleled, chronic fantasy illness. left or right brained.  right brained for sure. he’s really imaginative and artsy. fears.  being abandoned, especially by those he holds dear. not being smart or strong enough to prevent someone from getting hurt or worse. being deprived of control over his own body or decisions.  self confidence level.  veeeeeery low. when he acts confident, he’s just faking it until he makes it,.which, unless he addresses the root of the problem, won’t be anytime soon. but i’m behind the wheel so this kid’s not going to let being abused define him forever. mark my words. vulnerabilities.  impulsive and bad decision prone. he’s not very physically strong or durable, either. fast, sure. definitely determined to stick it out until the very end. but once you get a couple of good hits in, he’s down. he’ll also undermine his own value and throw his life and safety away on the off chance that it could help someone else, so jot that one down.

tagged by: @kissafist​​ THANK YOU!! ♥ i had so much fun with this. tagging: in addition to livi and sammi who i already pinged above, let’s do @localmagicalboi​​, @feraliix​​, @galaxycrxss​​, @blackasteriia​​ and YOU! but only if you feel like it!

[ahgaseda]

the hot tea || chapter 04

⇥ synopsis : your best friend, Jackson, never fails to argue against your apathy toward love and romance, but his plan to confess his true feelings toward you is rudely interrupted when you start a blog chronicling your past relationships...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, recurring alcohol or drug use, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

Drumming your nails on the table, you stared at the screen and the words written in the document. This was it; your first foray into novelizing your relationships. Your teeth sank into your lip and truth be told, you lingered the cursor over the delete button.

Rising from the desk with a frustrated groan, you flopped onto your bed and grabbed your phone, scrolling through your contacts. When you landed on his name, you hesitated. It had been quite a while since the two of you talked, but part of you needed to get this off your chest.

The phone rang three times before he answered, “Hello?”

Slightly taken aback by his voice, which seemed much deeper than you remembered, you stammered, “Hey, um, it’s me.”

Your ex didn’t sound fazed in the least. “What’s up?”

Vaguely you could hear the mashing of buttons in the background followed by the untimely death of some computer-generated creature and a smirk tugged at your lips. With a snicker, you rambled, “I know this is really random and it’s late. Sorry about that.”

“You know I don’t go to bed until, like, the crack of dawn,” he retorted. “What’s bothering you?”

As if you could tell him what you were up to, you mused with a shake of your head. Guilt crept up your spine and you murmured, “Nothing. I just… I don’t know.”

“Spit it out, babe.”

You asked, “Are we okay?”

That was clearly the last thing he expected you to say. “Huh?”

“You and me,” you trailed, memories filling your mind. “Are we alright? No bad blood or any hard feelings.”

He replied without missing a beat, “None at all.”

“Okay. Good. I needed to be sure.”

“Feel better?” he asked and you just knew he was smiling with amusement.

“Yes, I’m sorry. You know my brain does most of its work in the middle of the night,” you quipped for an attempt at some levity to break the tension.

He chuckled. “Some things never change.”

You simpered, warmth gathering behind your cheeks. “Take care, Mark.”

“You, too.”

Macchiato at its core is just coffee and cream. Simple, but if you think about it, a collision of complete opposites. Boyfriend number one was like that. He was a polarizing force that blew hot then cold and I never knew whether to bring a coat or a bikini. Nevertheless, he was the First Love and the story begins with him.

We met during my senior year of high school, when I had transferred to a foreign place and knew absolutely no one. Turned out, we had that in common...

Approaching the table in the corner, your voice began to quiver as you spoke, “I, um, I’m sorry to do this, but…”

Mark glanced up, saying nothing as he chewed his food.

“Can I sit here?” you asked innocently.

Mark lifted his brow, seemingly waiting for an explanation. No one ever sat with him. Barely anyone even spoke to him or acknowledged his presence since he arrived only a few months earlier.

“It’s just… those boys keep bothering me and I noticed everyone gives you space,” you said, feeling the telltales of anxiety as you heard the chatter growing louder behind you. “I thought, maybe…”

Mark nonchalantly motioned to the seat across from him with a nod of his head.

You breathed in relief and thanked him, sitting down and running a hand through your hair. The last thing you anticipated when arriving to this new school was dealing with a pack of boys that felt they were entitled to your attention and were rather offended you didn’t readily give it to them.

For a moment, Mark studied you as he took another mouthful of food. You looked petrified and part of him felt a rush of instincts to defend you. Clearly a foreigner like himself, he immediately decided he wouldn’t allow any nonsense where you were concerned.

Having finally calmed, you proceeded to eat your lunch.

A few minutes later, Mark’s expression faltered as he glanced at something past you. You furrowed your brow until you heard the patter of footsteps at your back.

“Hey, new girl,” one of the boys jeered, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “Where did you scurry off to?”

You exhaled in defeat, resisting the urge to cry at the loss of some peace you had ached for.

“What’s up, Mark?” the guy called to the loner, roughly tugging on your sweater as he did so.

Mark set down his fork and slowly rose to his feet, not uttering a word as he began rolling up his sleeves.

The display made your eyes widen, realizing this boy you had just met was ready to square up on your behalf.

The bully chuckled, promptly releasing his grip on your coat and taking a wary step back. “Hey, bro, there’s no problem here, right?” he asked nervously.

Mark shrugged, noncommittal, but more than ready to handle his business.

“We were just gonna get this new girl out of your way.”

Mark shook his head, now proceeding to unfasten his school vest.

The boys shuffled behind you, but you didn’t dare turn to look.

“Whoa, Americano. It’s cool,” another guy said hurriedly, trying to diffuse the situation and steering his trouble-making friend away. “We’ll see you at class, alright?”

Mark bobbed his head and waved them away, waiting for them to be gone before he plopped back into his seat with an annoyed sigh.

You watched him, wanting to smile, and joked, “I wish I could do that.”

Mark grabbed his fork and glanced at you, saying, “You shouldn’t have to.”

It was the first time you had ever heard his voice and you had to admit, you liked the way it sounded. It made sense such a stoic, formidable personality would be accompanied by a low timbre voice.

“Thank you,” you whispered shyly.

Mark smiled and said, “Sit with me whenever you want.”

“You won’t mind?”

He shook his head and you were slightly disappointed at not hearing his voice again.

Lunch with Macchiato became an everyday routine. And little by little, we found some kind of camaraderie. We were both lonely, that was for certain, and we gravitated to each other for a sense of belonging. Soon, it wasn’t just lunch. Turned out we had a few classes together and even the ones we didn’t share he always walked me to and from. Sure, we bonded over being the weird foreign kids, but it was more than that...

“Hey,” Mark said as you began to enter your class.

Turning around, you asked, “Yes?”

Taking your hand gently, he pulled you closer and whispered in your ear, “Let’s ditch.”

“What?” you exclaimed, eyes going wide.

Mark shushed you and continued levelly, “I hate bio and you hate math.”

“True, but that won’t make the tests we’re prepping for magically go away,” you said, grimacing at the thought of exams on the horizon.

Mark tilted his head and whined, “Come on. It’s just one day.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you teased under your breath, “And here I thought you were a good boy.”

“I’ve got news for you,” he quipped, sticking out his tongue at the corner of his mouth and wiggling his eyebrows.

Your gaze flitted from your only companion to the rapidly filling classroom. With a sigh of defeat, you grumbled, “Alright, where are we going and what trouble are we getting into?”

Mark squeezed your hand and began dragging you with him down the hall. “I wanna show you my happy place.”

Rolling your eyes, you followed dutifully, stealing a glance over your shoulder to make sure no one saw the daring escape.

Mark brought you outside and kept going, over the paved paths until they became gravel and pebbles. You passed between lush trees and grass, spotting a lake just beyond.

“Full of surprises, Mark Tuan,” you deadpanned when he finally released your hand and dropped his backpack beneath the largest of the trees.

At the top of a gentle slope that led to the water, Mark sat down and leaned back against his bag, overlapping his arms behind his head.

“Sometimes I just come here and think about everything,” he told you, closing his eyes.

Standing next to him, you glanced around and teased, “Is that so?”

The light trickled through the branches ever so delicately and you stopped still for a moment to simply take in the peace and quiet of your surroundings. Placing your backpack neatly next to his, you copied Mark’s position, resting on your back alongside him. Though you neatly laced your fingers over your stomach rather than behind your head.

A moment of silence later, Mark said, “I think about you, you know.”

Turning to look at him, your heart fluttered. “You do?”

Mark opened his eyes and met your gaze. “Yeah.”

You bit your lip to hide a smile, heat flushing your cheeks.

Playful, Mark suddenly glared and chided, “Don’t look at me like that.”

You retorted, “It’s your own fault for being sweet.”

“Never again,” Mark said, relaxing again and closing his eyes.

Giggling, you whispered, “Whatever you say, Tuan,” and settled in comfortably beside him, losing yourself for a few precious moments of contentment and realizing that Mark was the first boy to make your heart race.

chapter 03 ⇤ chapter 04 ⇥ chapter 05

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{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[kuronekonerochan]

Very messy thoughts about a very messy kdrama: Melting Me Softly

Overall:

I loved the premise...it looked like the kind of ridiculous over the top kdrama that could make for an interesting entertaining watch...unfortunately it is just badly executed. It doesn't know what it wants to be. The action syfy part is confusing, there is no emotional weigh over the tragedy of losing 20 years of life on the part of the Male Lead, although we feel it with the FL(who, by the way, is the only good part of the drama as far as acting goes, despite having little to work with), and even the jokes don't land because the supposed funny side characters are either too annoying and terrible people or they are too pathetic and I pity them instead of finding any of it funny (like the scenes with his family).

Melting me softly is a mess. Honestly with only just how all over the place the pilot was most ppl would have drop it then, but ji chang wook is soooo pretty and it's his comeback after military, still.... lord, is the drama bad. 

The syfy element is a mess, the characters are all shallow and unlikable in the few scenes we had with them so far (except the FL who seems nice enough but hasn't had that much to do yet).

The Characters:

 JCW is surprisingly unlikable for me and it's not even that he's the cliche jerk. Surprisingly it’s even worse because he’s just boring as a character. He’s not nice, but he doesn’t go out of his way to be cruel so that he can be redeemable later.

Nope, he’s just arrogant and entitled and he interacts with everyone mostly by casting judgmental side eye and being kind of uninterested in anyone else. Not in a charming megalo centric  way (like the Lead from What’s Wrong With Secretary Kim, who was a good person despite his ego), but in a dismissive everyday style that makes him all the more unlikable. What’s worse is that it’s even more evident with his family, who are problematic and a bit clingly and “golddigging/leaching” but still they seem to like each other enough in their own weird way. The lead though, treats his family coldly, like a disgusted spectator and it’s hard to watch. There is no chemistry between him and the rest of the cast because the character treats everyone like they’re not worthy of his respect.

That scene where the leads meet and she’s upset over losing 20 years of her life? -  I automatically went: *eyeroll Ugh, Men... It's not all about you everytime. You convinced her, effed up her life, own it and stop making excuses! The right thing to do is apologize and shut the f up!

The side characters, as I said are all either pathetic or terrible people, with the exception of the female lead’s family, who seem to be in a different, better acted drama. The shift in tone is jarring.

The Plot:

The plot is a complete mess and the main conflict so far is stupid. His producing team (that ended up convincing his gf) decided to hush things up in the past because outrage, audience ratings, yada yada and that's it! Yet it’s super confusing bc it seems like they are hiding what they did from him and scheming behind his back, while at the same time it's obvious he knows they threw him under the bus back them, so where’s the conflict? Also it's petty and the real villains involved with the cryoproject and the attack on the scientist are still just a vague concept that the drama clearly wont go into anytime soon, so it all seems like filler. 

To top it all, last episode's cliffhanger is about their previous romantic interests (who are now in their 40s) reconnecting when one of them is married and the other cover up the ML's disappearance, so it's all just more annoying filler I have no interest in watching...

The production design/ technical aspects:

The technical aspects are also bad, especially the editing...scenes are chopped off and put together and seem cut short or pointless. Time is also weird, they mix office scenes with home scenes from ML and random FL scenes without parallels and it's impossible to make out when the days start and end. It's been a while since I saw such messy execution from the production. Usually it's stuff like plot or characters or acting that bothers me, at most camera work, but here it really is the production as a whole. 

What I meant by parallels is that when you are starting to tell a narrative with two leads from their separate povs before they are onscreen together, there's usually an editing order:

Both leads wake up, both leads wander away. Ok so far. Both leads reconnect with family. Scene of FL at home with family followed by scene with ML with family. New day starts. Day 1: looking for answers: contacting the police, talking to the last ppl involved in the experience, etc. Sequencial scenes showing how each go about finding answers in their own way (the method helps to start establishing character and  personality differences between the leads). ML does that, but for some reason the FL doesn't?  (Maybe here a nightime scene each with the family to further develop feelings/angst and exposition of changes in family dinamics and events that happened while they were gone.) Next is trying to get back the life they left behind. Again, sequencial scenes of his workplace and in this case her university.

And with that we get the feeling a few days have passed and they went around on their parallel journeys. But here it's all jumbled and mashed together. He keeps talking to the people from his network in random chopped talks where it feels like he doesn't ask everything logically just so the drama can have another different scene with them later, he is home, his family is a mess but that isn't even edited in contrast to the scenes of her family for juxtaposition...and he seems to have more scenes than her and hers fall randomly out of nowhere and without logic. After being discharged from the hospital and talking to her family, why wouldn't her first reaction be trying to find him and ask what the hell happened? Instead she goes around, even returns to college before going to him?  The drama and the leads seem to walk around in circles without purpose. The transitions are also lowsy...usually all the driving in kdramas is too much but here it is lacking. The ML jumping around from the hospital, to the network, to the (most baffling) secret patient room where the scientist is without us knowing how he got there is distracting. Besides, those small driving scenes are important for character interaction and development: either with phone calls that allow us to see a more intimate side of the characters, how he takes things when nobody is watching, or with another person in the car communicating, or even just silent rides with body language and expression giving us a glimpse of their state of mind....  without any of this, by just appearing in places and doing things, the characters seem shallow and incomplete.

Minor complaints: 

They made the choice to make the 2nd Female lead kind of bitchy, greedy and backstabbing by having her agree to the cover up and her decision of not telling him immediately  what she had done now and apologize (when her younger self seemed much sweeter than that). I feel like the drama has barely begun and they already did her dirty by choosing to go that way with her character after her introduction on the pilot. Also, typecast of the actress playing her older self... she always plays a bitch (she's very good at it but I wanted to see her on a softer role). I wouldn’t mind  if this were a noona romance, since so far the leads have zero chemistry together. To be fair, there wasn’t any with the 2nd female lead, or JCW and any other character in a non romatic way either, in fact, except for the kid niece who actually seems to get a genuine reaction out of him.

 Plus we know from K2 that JCW and noonas have better chemistry ;)

At least I wish they had given her a better arc, for example, the girlfriend who was left behind, because of how it went down, never got over her love for him. They could have a romantic interest for her who she met after the lead was frozen, and the two had become very close over the years but she couldn't move on... they could give her closure so she'd finally realize in her heart how she felt about her own romantic interest without it being clouded with guilt and unresolved feelings for the lead. 

@kdramaxoxo

[gummibearyoongi]

hold on, we’re going home | 3

part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4

pairings: yoongi x reader

words: 3.4k

genre: smut, angst, fluff, romance

summary: After a night to celebrate the reclamation of Daegu from the hands of a rival mafia Jo-pok, Yoongi comes back to find that his wife has been kidnapped by them and held ransom for a very sinister and personal reason

a.k.a the mafia!au no one asked for

warnings: manic behavior, Jackson being crazy, Namjoon’s slightly an ass, partial nudity, violence, language

part 3: Let’s Go Home

Yoongi gazed at the screen with such intense concentration, that Jin, his teammate, gave him a confused look.

“Yoongi-ah, are you trying to absorb yourself into the video feed?” he asked, attempting to break the tension with a joking observation. Yoongi flashed him a dark glare, and Jin fell quiet. Yoongi was with Jin and his younger brother, Jungkook, in the main headquarters of the transport divisions. The security guard for the night was out ‘taking a walk’, enjoying the extra pocket money he now had. 500,000 won exactly.  

If the police found a member of the Jo-pok meddling in government headquarters, they would use it as an excuse to crack down on the gangs. Yoongi had to play his cards right.

Jin squinted at the grainy camera feed and exclaimed at something. “Suga, look!”

Yoongi was startled, and took a closer look at the screen. Jin jabbed his finger at something in the corner, and he caught it. A car and a license plate.

 He mentally exhaled a sigh of relief. They had finally found a lead.

 Jungkook leaned forward, head tilting to the side. Yoongi could smell the cologne the two brothers wore, and it made his nose crinkle. He always thought Jin went overboard with his fashion choices, but he clearly hadn’t met his younger brother. Just shy out for college, Jungkook was nearly the same height as Jin, and held a magnetic presence like his brother. The truth was, they weren’t brothers by blood. Jungkook was adopted by the Kim family when he was only a baby, having lost his parents in a car crash. Jin’s mother took one look at him and decided that she couldn’t let him go. Jin had an older brother as well, but he was estranged from their activities. Jungkook filled the position as a little brother perfectly, and with the way how they both looked similar, no one could doubt that they weren’t real family.

They were both clad in long trench coats with turtlenecks. To anyone else, they would have appeared like rich students or classy young bankers; no one would suspect that they held body counts and blood on their hands. The only thing that marked them as Jo-pok was the small tattoo of a cross they sported under their left ear, easily hidden with a lock of hair. Yoongi had the same tattoo as well, prickling uncomfortably as a reminder of what was to come. 

“Jin-hyung, run the car plate and see if we can come up with any matches,” Yoongi ordered, and Jin nodded, conversing in low tones with Jungkook as the younger man brought out a laptop from the side of his carry-on bag, setting it on the table and typing quickly. Yoongi waited, counting the broken tiles under his feet as he held his breath.

A pair of footsteps outside alerted the three men that they had company, and Yoongi thrusted his hand into the pocket of his coat, fingers gripping the handle of his .45. He saw from the corner of his eye the brothers following suit, their gazes locked on the door, anticipating bloodshed. It was only Namjoon who appeared, uncharacteristic frown deepening when he saw them in the room.

Yoongi exhaled and released his grip on the gun, rocking back on his heels slightly. “Joon. What are you doing here?”

Namjoon raised a brow. “I could ask you the same thing.” He sounded royally pissed. “I was expecting this to be on the low. Did you know I had to bribe Inspector Chae to get him to shut up? Some officers were starting to suspect when they saw our cars out here.”

“We already have a lead,” Yoongi argued, unperturbed by his leader’s stoic expression.

“You better watch your mouth, Min Yoongi,” Namjoon said coolly. To anyone, it would sound like a statement, but Yoongi knew it was a threat. He snapped his mouth shut and directed his glare to the floor.

“I’m sorry, leader.”

Namjoon sighed. For the second time tonight, he had to make a choice. “Yoongi, I know how much Y/N means to you, but I can’t have the Wang Jo-pok and the police on our tail. We just took back Daegu and I don’t want this distraction to make us lose that foothold.”

Namjoon was no longer that kind friend he met on the street who told him to be careful; he was the hardened young Jo-pok leader now. 

Yoongi understood where his leader was coming from, but he couldn’t just abandon you. He folded his arms and leveled a surly look to Namjoon. “Leader, with all due respect, Y/N means more than that. If you were in my position, what would you do?”

“Yoongi, you misunderstand me,” Namjoon reiterated forcefully. “I’m not saying that Y/N isn’t worth it, I’m telling you to watch your fucking back. I can’t be the one to always save you–”

“Really, Namjoon?” Yoongi growled, taking everyone in the room by surprise. “I took care of you when your father passed away. I was by your side the whole time in Daegu. I sacrificed so much for you and you can’t even help me get my wife back?”

Namjoon narrowed his eyes, and Yoongi immediately regretted his outburst. Pin drop silence enveloped the four men, and he could sense Jin and Jungkook share a look. They weren’t as close to Namjoon as he was. Yoongi was more than just the young Kim leader’s right-hand man – he was his best friend. He could tell that the two brothers were uncomfortable and if it came to their leader’s orders, they couldn’t – wouldn’t – hesitate to put a bullet in his head.

The leader in question inhaled deeply, as if centering himself before he spoke. “I’m sorry, I forgot how much you’ve helped me. But, I wash my hands from this mission. It’s all on you. I can’t expand anymore manpower on this when I have the police and the Wangs to handle.”

He made to leave, but turned, looking as if he was struggling to say something. Instead, Namjoon shook his head and stalked out from the room, leaving the three men in stark silence, and his words unsaid. 

Jungkook cleared his throat, breaking the ice, as he swiveled the laptop screen towards Yoongi. “Hyung, I managed to track the car plate to a place in Gyeongju. It just passed the toll and shouldn’t be too far from here. If we leave now, we could still catch the interception signal.”

Yoongi nodded curtly. “Thanks, Jungkook.”

Jin shrugged. “Well, if you ever need backup, we don’t have anything to do.” The older brother looked towards the younger, and he just nodded.

“I’d rather fight than play Overwatch,” Jungkook admitted.

“Aish Kook, that’s cause your account got suspended again,” Jin jabbed, and his younger brother flushed.

“I could use the help,” Yoongi accepted, cutting short their bickering and gestured with his chin towards the door. “Load up and I’ll meet you at the park and ride before the highway.”

Jin seemed to be ruminating on something, and he surrendered to the curiosity. “Yoongi-ah. What about Namjoon?”

Yoongi’s jaw tightened in annoyance. “You heard him. He doesn’t care what happens as long as we don’t alert the police and directly fight the Wangs.”

Jungkook pursed his lips. “But, we will be fighting the Wangs. We don’t know how many men are in this abduction case.”

“We won’t attack yet,” Yoongi said. “We’ll check their fortifications and see how many men they have. Strategy is the key here.” He noted how quiet Jungkook was and took pity on the kid. He had just turned twenty, and Yoongi remembered how lost he had been at that age. That was before he met you, a serendipitous meeting in Ikea when you accidentally bumped into him and he fell in love with you the moment you bowed in mortification at your clumsiness.

“You could always go back and play Overwatch,” Yoongi commented, giving him an out.

Jin agreed with the younger man. “Yah. You don’t have to if you don’t want, Kookie.”

To their combined surprise, Jungkook scoffed. “Overwatch ain’t got nothing on the real thing.”

Yoongi spared him a smirk, and walked out the room, making sure to avoid any wandering eyes that could be lingering around. Jin and Jungkook followed behind, closing the door inconspicuously, as they made their way to the car park.

He entered the car with purpose, determined to find you. I’m coming, baby.

 “Are you sure this is where her signal ended?” Yoongi demanded.

“I’m pretty sure,” Jungkook said, as he peered back at the computer screen, making sure that he had pinpointed the right place where he suspected you were being kept. Forty minutes of driving had led them to this unspecified area. Yoongi glanced at the warehouse looming in front of him, a dull grey that blended ominously with its surroundings. The quiet was starting to unnerve him, and he kept his attention peeled at the front door, as if anticipating that someone might walk through. The wind whistled through the crack of the car window in a high pitch, whipping the front of his bangs into casual disarray.

Jin was patting himself down, checking on his guns and ammo. Jungkook was peering through a pair of binoculars, documenting every bit of movement he could find under his breath.

“I see two people. One’s on a chair and the other’s standing.”

Yoongi swiped the binoculars from him as he trained his eyes on the scene. He could only make out the silhouette of those two people, and it appeared that the younger man was right. “It could be anyone,” he mumbled, and darted his gaze above the floors, but there didn’t seem to be any other signs of life.

“It looks like there’s only those two,” he announced, and Jin snorted.

“Two people? Sounds like a piece of cake.”

Yoongi mashed his lips together. He knew two people was a lucky shot, but he had to be careful. One of those could be you, and he didn’t want to accidentally maim his own wife.

“Hyung, there are three exits around the perimeter,” Jungkook informed. “We can each take one and go in at the same time. It would lead us to the main unit where we saw those two figures.”

“Good call.” The youngest man was proving to be an asset, and even Jin was impressed.

Yoongi loaded his pockets with ammo and clutched his trusty .45 Glock close, determined not to make a sound as he let the car door close on itself. The two brothers kept near to him, each of them taking one route. Yoongi tested the door he was assigned to, and noticed that the locks were rusted and old. It didn’t take much to break it, the chains slithering down to the ground with a dull thud, coiling around his feet like a dead snake. 

Through the shared feed, he heard Jungkook muttering that he was in, with Jin giving his second confirmation.

“The locks are pretty old,” Jin mumbled.

“No kidding,” Jungkook scoffed. “This whole place looks like it’s going to collapse on itself.”

Yoongi stayed alert for a sign of you, and when he heard a stuttering cough from behind the corner, he knew he had found you.

“I hear someone,” he said.

“I do, too,” Jin whispered, “Someone’s coughing.”

“…Y-yes.”

Yoongi’s blood boiled, and he almost burst from his hiding place, the sound of your hoarse voice filling him with dread and anger so potent that he wanted to attack instantly; damn all consequences.

“I found her,” he breathed. You choked back a sob, and the sound pierced through his chest, breaking his heart.

“…please…”

The young Jo-pok member couldn’t take it anymore. He switched his safety off, the clicking sound loud in the cavernous room and emerged from his hiding place, wearing a terrifying glare like an angel of destruction.

It wasn’t a pleasant experience being under Jackson’s care. Your ex was pushy, hovering over you as he forced you to drink, his reasoning being that your lips looked ‘a little too dry’. He sighed for the third time this evening and fixed you with a glare.

“I swear Y/N, it’s like you’re trying to make this intentionally hard for yourself,” he murmured, eyes flashing dangerously.

He shoved the bottle into your mouth and clamped down on your throat, forcing you to drink until you choked, head jerking forward and sputtering water onto the cement floor, coughing violently to expel the water from your lungs. You wheezed and blinked tears from your eyes, attempting to keep him in sight in case he tries another time.

Jackson kneeled and gently wiped the water from your upper lip. “See? It wasn’t that bad, wasn’t it, jagi?”

You narrowed your eyes, throat raw and voice hollow as you said, “Y-yes.”

A satisfied smile broke across his face, and he stood up, pleased. “We’re getting on well. Are you hungry?”

Afraid that he was going to shove food down your throat, you nodded, eyes wide and beseeching.

“Okay,” he chuckled, and walked behind you, where you heard a bag unzipping and the sound of a wrapper crunching. He appeared once more, and fed you bits of a sweet muffin, making sure to wipe your lips after each bite. You kept your eyes down, trying not to let the tears fall as you swallowed every bitter morsel of food he placed in your mouth.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, leaning in close. You shut your eyes when he pressed a kiss onto your lips. It made you feel nothing, and all you wanted was to lash out at him, but you kept your anger under wraps. There wasn’t any use making him angry only to put yourself in danger.

He released your lips and your whispered, “please,” sounded pathetic even to your own ears.

A loud clicking sound ricocheted across the room, and you flinched. Jackson snapped to his feet, and you glanced up to find a familiar figure making his way across the floor to you, gaze blazing with anger.

Your mouth fell open and a relieved cry escaped your throat. “Yoongi!”

It was a flurry of movement that left you disorientated, before you felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed to your head. Jackson moved like the snake his Jo-pok represented, and turned the tides quickly.

Yoongi lowered his weapon, throwing Jackson a glare that could incinerate him from that distance. You whimpered when the barrel dug deeper into your temple, and your breath stuttered when he switched the safety off.

“Take one more step close, and I’ll blow her brains out,” he warned.

“Jackson Wang,” Yoongi grunted.

He looked to your husband, and back to you, eyes widening in shock. “Fuck Y/N, you didn’t tell me you were married to another Jo-pok member.”

You merely leveled him a glare.

“Well, isn’t this just perfect,” Jackson said, with a grin on the verge of a maniacal breakdown. He jerked his gaze back to Yoongi, who was muttering something under his breath. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, instead of replying to Jackson.

Jackson clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “One more time you talk to her like I’m not here and I’ll have you licking her blood from the floor.”

The threat was enough for Yoongi to pay him attention. “What the fuck do you want?”

Jackson seemed to be placing Yoongi from somewhere, and his gaze sparked with recognition. “Ah, yes. I know why you look so familiar. You’re Namjoon’s bitch, aren’t you? The one that asks, ‘how high?’ when he tells you to jump. Suga.”

Yoongi bristled, raising his gun. “You talk big yourself for a bastard who doesn’t have a leader.”

Jackson’s eyes flashed. “I quite remember your leader decapitating his head. But, if you ever make it out alive, let Namjoon know that I give him my thanks. It was the fastest promotion I have ever gotten in my life.”

Yoongi’s listless gaze narrowed with surprise. “You’re the new Jo-pok leader?”

The other man’s grin grew lazy. “Killing my brother wasn’t really the best idea, huh?”

You understood that this was big news. It was no secret that the second Wang brother was a little unhinged, and that Jackson’s older brother was the diplomat who wouldn’t shed blood if territories were respected. Now with his death, it was a war brewing. One wrong move would bring the two Jo-poks to a head. You prayed that Yoongi would make a calculated decision.

“Why my wife?” he growled.

“Oh, didn’t she tell you?” Jackson drawled, sounding comically surprised. “She was married to me before. I’m merely recollecting what was mine.”

You could hear Yoongi’s breath stuttering, and you quickly shook your head. “N-No! It’s not—he’s not telling the truth—”

The sharp dig of the barrel rendered you mute, and you communicated with your eyes, hoping that your husband would understand.

“You know what they say, Suga,” he started, with a cocky smirk. “One man should never touch another man’s whore.”

That seemed to be the signal, as two more figures appeared on the scene. A click of a gun and there was a loud explosion, Jackson’s body crumpling to the ground, as warm blood splattered onto your face, hot and steaming, copper scent filling your nose. You screamed, eyes squeezing shut instinctively, as you heard a scuffle in front of you. 

Yoongi was the first to reach you, as he cupped your face, wiping the blood from your cheek. “Baby, baby, it’s me,” he breathed, and you opened your eyes, whimpering when you saw that he was unharmed.

He worked quickly on the ropes binding you, and the moment you were free, you launched yourself into his arms.

“B-baby, you can’t b-believe him. W-we broke up ages ago and h-he was lying,” you tried to explain between sobs. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing his face in your hair.

“Jagi, jagi,” he whispered repeatedly, running his hands down your back, trying to absorb as much of you as possible.

You lifted his face and smash your mouth on his, the kiss as desperate as it was jubilant. Yoongi held you like you were a porcelain doll, careful not to break you into pieces.

A cough came from behind, and you were both reminded that you weren’t alone. You pulled back first, caressing his face, as you drew in a shuddering breath.

Yoongi glanced past your shoulders, and you turned your head. You only recognized Jin from your husband’s group of friends, but you didn’t know who the other man was.

He helped you up, and when he saw that you were almost half naked, unzipped his bomber jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. The two other men turned their gazes away out of respect, and when you were decently dressed, they looked towards you, assessing you for any injuries.

“Y/N,” Jin said with a bright smile, like there wasn’t a man bleeding on the ground in front of him. “Have you met my younger brother? Jungkook, this is Y/N. Y/N, Jungkook.”

You meet the younger man’s gaze and nodded your greetings. He gave you an awkward wave.

“Okay, now back to the task at hand – is he dead?” Jin said, bracing himself on one knee as he pressed two fingers onto Jackson’s pulse. There was a ghastly wound on his right shoulder where the bullet had pierced through, leaking blood onto the floor.

“He’s still alive,” Jin grunted, rolling his eyes. “Great shot, Yoongi.”

Your husband raised a brow. “You heard Namjoon. We don’t want a turf war on our hands.”

“I think it was a good shot,” Jungkook commented, shrugging.

“Should we call the police?” you asked, pensively gazing at your ex.

“No,” Yoongi said, a little too quickly. “We should just leave him here. He’ll survive on his own.”

Jin pursed his lips and nodded. “Sounds like a good plan.”

“Should we let them know that it was us?”

Yoongi rummaged in his jeans pocket until he found a crumpled piece of paper, smoothing it out and placing it on Jackson’s rising chest. It was the Wang clan’s insignia, placed into an almost comical way on their leader’s unconscious body.

You pressed yourself closer to Yoongi, and he drew you into his side.

“Come on, jagi,” he said, sounding utterly exhausted. “Let’s go home.”

You have never been more relieved in your whole life at the word ‘home.’

A/N: Things will be heating up in the next chapter, so stay tuned 😉😉

[phoenixfeatherquillwriting]

Name Game!

I was tagged by @no-url-ideas-tho and @micastarsandmirrors! Thank you so much friends and sorry it took me 30 years to get to this ahhhh!

ANYWAY, my naming style is very....eclectic? Sometimes I make them up, sometimes I take existing names and tweak them, sometimes I take an existing name and add it to the language I’m making with a different meaning, and sometimes I conduct an exhaustive search for a name that’s JUST RIGHT (meaning and sound and all that.) I make it way more difficult than it needs to be. Sigh.

I have way way way too many OCs so I’ll just list the ones I usually post about here, but if anyone wants to, you can tag me again becuase I certainly have way more.

The OCS

Liz Desslin-I always start my lists with her and I have no idea why. She’s been with me for a few years now, I would say since 8th grade~freshman year. At that time I was really into the TV show Victorious and the earliest iteration of Liz’s character was inspired by one of my favorite characters, Jade. The actress who played her is Liz Gillies so I took her name and gave it to Liz. I then lengthened it to a longer made-up name for my language, but she doesn’t like it and doesn’t let anyone call her that, so I won’t mention it. My surnames usuallly don’t mean anything, I usually just mash together sounds until I get something I like or use a generator.

Beth Pemmer-She’s been around a little longer than Liz and has had about 3 name changes so far, poor thing. I think “Beth” came up because some of my favorite book characters as a kid were named Elizabeth and I just looked into variants. Like Liz, I extended Beth’s name a little to fit my language, so her full name is actually Bethki, but everybody just calls her Beth.

Tavi Simorian-I actually made up the name Tavi, only to discover years later that it’s a real name sometimes used as a diminutive of Octavia. By then it was too late to change it, so she’s just stayed “Tavi.”

Jewels (J) von Delmont-J is my oldest OC in terms of creation date. Becuase she’s ~10-sh years old or more, I don’t really remember where her name came from. At that time, I did have a couple of other OCs with gem related names, so I think Little Dove was trying to continue the theme and didn’t like “Jewel” by itself and added an s. I later rationalized my dumb decision to myself by saying her parents named her after the Crown Jewels of England. Most of her friends just call her J. The prefix “von” in her last name is the prefix of nobility in her country.

Rose Angelle-I wanted this utter sweetheart of a character to have a sweet name. She’s a true romantic at heart, and approaches all she does with love. Roses are traditionally associated with love and romance, so that’s what I chose. Her surname is a reference to the fact that I killed her off in one of my early drafts and I wanted to foreshadow that she was destined to be an “angel.” (Her last name is pronounced slightly differently than the word angel but I don’t know how to phonetically convey it so...*shrug emoticon.*)

Azura Jackson-I knew a girl named Azure when I was in like 6th grade, when my fascination with names and their meanings was beginning. I always thought her name was pretty, so I looked into variants and found this. Since Azure is a shade of blue, it’s also a refernce to the fact that her favorite color is indigo and she loves being out under the blue sky in her garden. (The fact that Rose has a flower name and is her best friend was an unexpected bonus.)

Ash Gutierrez-Ash is my newest OC, and from the start I knew I wanted them to be nonbinary. This lead to an extensive search of names for nonbinary folks, and this is what I settled on. I believe that Aris helped Ash pick their name when they fully came out and wanted a less feminine name. It proved to be a useful jumping off point for their character, as I promptly gave them pyrokenetic magic right after I named them.

Katri Newsome-Also relatively new to my brain, Katri got her name for its meaning: the translation to English is “knowing.” The English version is usually considered to be Kendra, and although her family calls her that (as is common in the region she’s from), she prefers Katri. Until recently, only Aris knew this and abused by her wishes. Her name is somewhat ironic becuase for a good portion of the story, she doesn’t know about the illegal activities her mentor Aris is up to. But in another way, it describes her character because she’s ever-curious and understands Aris in a way that the vast majority of people do not.

Aris Portokalos-Aris went through a name change or two as well, and I finally settled on this one becuase I liked the sound of it. It sounds similar to Ares, Greek god of war, and Aris is a fighter through and through. I heard her surname in a movie once and just randomly decided that was the one for her.

Thank you again for asking and sorry for this extremely long post!