#debating tossing the head back in blender today actually

[prismbearer]

Dark Urge Experience is going.

[greycappedjester]

If it’s ok, could we get a small clip of the next chapter?

Sure!....which story?

Um, here’s one for all of them. It’s long (very, very long) so I’m putting it under “Read More”

(All story segments are not fully edited and may change)

Tooru Oikawa and the Triwizard Tournament

Yamaguchi squinted towards the other side of the Great Hall. “So have they….made up now?”

A few tables down, Kageyama and Hinata seemed to be in the middle of a very loud and very spirited argument on whether condiments could ever count as side dishes. Grievous insults to intelligence had been made and threats of murder were likewise issued.

“I think so.” Ennoshita didn’t sound confident.

Hinata attempted to tackle Kageyama off of his bench.

“But, they’re still not playing together for Quidditch,” Yamaguchi confirmed

Kageyama shoved an apple in Hinata’s face.

Asahi watched wide-eyed. “They said they couldn’t yet.”

A resulting debate over the term 'breakfast fruit’ emerged. It was somehow even more heated.

“But, they’re not fighting?” Yamaguchi had to confirm.

“Suga says they aren’t,” Daichi said.

They had now decided to share the apple. Yachi beamed from beside them. Lev booed.

Yamaguchi decided there and then. “I’m never going to understand their relationship.”

“They’re idiots,’ Tsukishima concluded.

And, thus, the most watched and highly contentious fight of the entire school year--Tournament included--finally came to its baffling end.

--------

After the Fall of Olympus

(Sorry, it’s a depressing one--partly because I can’t take out much from the chapter without giving away a really major spoiler that’s revealed in the first scene)

Dick and Donna have this thing they do. 

It started maybe three years after the invasion, before Kory’s ship landed, and when everything was still raw but finally slowly trying to get better. 

They’d been in the tower alone, both on monitor duty, when Donna had turned to him and out of the blue asked, “Dick, tell me about Wally West?”

“What,” Dick had asked, too surprised even to feel the pain that sharply.

“You and Roy mention him every now and then. He was your best friend, right? I want to know more about him.”

Dick had just stared. Stared until Donna had admitted in a too quiet voice. “I’m tired of not being able to talk about them.”

So Dick had talked. At the start, it wasn’t even about anything important. Just about what a huge chemistry nerd Wally was. How he flirted with girls non-stop. The time he’d tried to phase through a wall and got half way through before panicking. And then, slowly, Dick moved on to important things. When Dick first told him his secret identity. How Wally had wanted to grow up to be just like his uncle. What Dick had felt when he saw his body.

Donna talked, too. About her sister. About growing up with Diana, about the numb shock watching her death on the news, about wondering if her sister would be proud of her and the a million and one times she was scared of living up to the reputation.

It became a routine. Not every day. Not even every few months. But, now and again, one of them would seek the other out and Donna would talk about Diana or some of her other Amazonian teachers lost in the invasion and Dick would talk about Wally and M’gann and Artemis and Connor and Kaldur and….and Bruce. One time, Dick even talked about Superman.

They talked and the pain didn’t go away--not fully, not ever--but eased until they felt like they could breathe again, until they could remember a past that was colored by more than just the pain of their deaths.

-------

Walking With My Eyes Open

Gen wasn’t a kind man; he was pragmatic.  And he’d long decided he’d do absolutely anything, sink to any kind of low, be however ruthless he needed if it meant saving Senkuu’s life. 

So….

Decisions, decisions.

He shredded a petal under his nails and tossed it down.

“Gen?” A blonde head popped up beside him. “What are you doing?”

He smiled, making sure it was a soft one despite his mood. Because he absolutely believed in playing favorites and when it came to the village--to his entire life, actually--it wasn’t hard to guess the people that rested on top.

Suika smiled back, a glimpse of bright blue eyes shining through the shadows of her mask. Then, she tilted her head and lowered her voice. “Are you hiding from work?”

Gen laughed, pressing a finger to his lips. “Maybe a bit. Don’t tell on me, okay?” He winked. “Besides, I was considering some options. Thinking counts as work, too, doesn’t it?”

Suika nodded, glancing down at the growing pile of mangled petals then to the daisy Gen was still steadily demolishing. “And the flowers are helping you think?”

Actually, Gen had just been feeling murderous towards flowers lately. Call it enacting justice vicariously.

“Not particularly.” He picked up another flower from beside him and instead of shredding it, started to fold. “You’re right. I think there’s a better use for these.”

A few more quick movements and he wove a flower bracelet, just small enough to slip over Suika’s wrist. 

Her grin brightened, looking at it like it was the next great marvel--so, at least Gen had accomplished one thing today.

“It’s so pretty,” Suika said, looking up to see it closer. “And the flowers are so close together. Can you teach me?”

“Sure, once we get some more flowers.” He picked up the last one, winding his fingers around the stem. “You know, now that you mention it. There is an old game about flowers and decisions. Want to hear it?”

Suika sat patiently in front of him, eyes fixed on the daisy because of course, she wanted to learn. What other village could this be?

“It’s very simple.” Gen counted off with one hand, flower in the other. “Two phrases, you pick a petal on each and the one you land on is your answer.” Gen picked a petal. “He loves me.” Another petal. “He loves me not….” 

Suika gave a small gasp. “Flowers can tell you if someone’s in love?”

Gen didn’t laugh because he knew it would be bitter.

“No,” he said quietly. “It’s just a game. Back before--ah, before even me and Senkuu, that is--ladies would play it to see if their beloved would ever return their affections. It’s silly.”

“So…,” Suika thought a bit, “it’s like a wish, then?”

“I think I’m using it more as a hex,” Gen muttered as he got to the last petal and glared.

He loves me.

Well, fuck. 

Gen supposed that’s what he deserved for trusting flowers.

He gave his largest, most theatrical sigh for Suika’s sake. “Ahhh, Suika-chan, look at that! It seems like I lost. More’s the pity for me!”

Suika grinned up at him, hopping to her feet and wrapping her arms around his hips. “It’s okay! I still love you.”

Gen patted her head, smiling despite himself.

“Maybe you were using the wrong flower,” Suika told him.

“Could be.”

“I’ll go get more,” Suika promised. “Then, you can find one that’ll work.”

“More flowers is a good idea,” Gen agreed. “But, I think I’m tired of this game. Why don’t I teach you how to make the best flower crowns in the entire stone world? Then, we’ll both have to be the most beloved people in the whole village, won’t we?”

Immediately, Suika ran off to the woods and Gen watched her go.

At least, flowers could do good somewhere. 

He looked down at the mangled flowers. A daisy, purity and innocence.

With a shift of his heel, he ground them a little further into the ground..

Flowers were an awfully pointless thing to blame; but, Gen was petty and they were easier than the alternative.

Still. He taught Suika how to make flower crowns and when she pressed one last bloom into his hand, so excited to find the last one of the season, he took it like his heart hadn’t plunged to his feet.

It was hard to look at black nightshade and forget it was a poison.

-------

Call Me Your Home At Night

(Note: very, very subject to edit. Part of the reason this one has taken awhile is rewrites while I work on tone)

Atsumu was shouting--voice tinny over the phone speakers--and Hinata’s blender was doing its best impressions of death throes while Hinata frantically tried to keep both the chord at the one angle it worked and hold the blender’s lid down so the entire kitchen didn’t end up coated in a weird grey mix of protein shake and bananas. Again. For the fifth time. 

In other words, it was a normal morning. 

From the part of his mind that noticed these things, Hinata thought it was kinda funny that Atsumu had learned to time his complaining to coordinate with the aggressive disaster that was Hinata’s morning routine.

Like the world’s weirdest symphony, the opposite of harmonizing. A disharmony! That was it!

“Seriously, what the fuck is a ward court and how is it different than a family court? Why do we even need two courts for divorce? Huh? Why not just shove a paper at us and have it done!” Atsumu’s voice got increasingly petulant. “Shouyou, it’s like the entire country is trying to keep good, decent people married! Why does it hate us?”

It was a close call; but, in a competition between one aggravated setter on speaker phone and the relentless whirring of the cheapest blender Hinata could find on the internet, Atsumu still managed to fight his way through.

Hinata gave the phone a sympathetic look even if he knew Atsumu couldn’t see it. He turned off the defeated foe and mentally crowned Atsumu the winner of Disharmony 2016: Blender vs. Atsumu edition. Not that he had much doubt. 

“Find anything you like with grounds for divorce?”

Atsumu grumbled which meant no.

Then, Atsumu huffed which meant no and the world wasn’t fair!

So, apparently, divorce was harder than it looked. Actually, a lot of things about this “being married” thing were more complicated than they thought and, in the month since they’d been technically married, Hinata had frequently and strongly fantasized about grabbing his past self by the shoulders and shaking him while screaming ‘WHY?!’ right at his face.

Like taxes!

Who knew how to do taxes? Who knew that taxes were apparently due this month? Including married people taxes which apparently were more complicated and had things like joint filing or separate and dependants and a bunch of other words that Hinata still didn’t understand completely. It wasn’t like he could ask his Mom for help after everything or even beg Yachi or Kenma like usual because that would bring up the whole marriage thing and, ugh, no, no, no, no.

Hinata was pretty sure he and Atsumu had figured it out. Enough, at least. Getting arrested for tax evasion seemed like something that only happened on the news so it was probably fine.

Uh, so, yeah, between the whole moving to Brazil thing and figuring out stuff like rent and utilities and meeting the indoor volleyball team he’d be working with plus some of the beach volleyball players and trying to get his new roommate Pedro to talk to him about things other than laundry and groceries and trying to remember the difference between bolo and bola and finding a job and Atsumu dealing with MSBY promotion stuff and interviews and getting ready for pro-volleyball next season and then them both having to deal with stuff like taxes and still being weirded out about all the accidental wedding stuff in general, they…..well, they hadn’t gotten much done about the whole divorce thing.

Okay, more like they’d gotten exactly one thing done and that was figuring out a time to freak out about all the things they hadn’t gotten done. The good news was that the exactly twelve hour time difference was sorta perfect since it meant Hinata got back from his morning jog about the same time Atsumu came home for dinner, which meant that quickly became their agreed time to call with updates.

….which usually tailed off into both of them talking about volleyball instead because volleyball was a whole lot more fun.

Hinata very carefully pushed aside the resulting mental montage of sand scraping along his arms on a missed receive and feet sinking into the ground and landing face first in burning sand that was happening way more than he’d expected.

Hinata shook his head, scraping the not-very-blended protein shake out of his blender. “I’ll try to look some stuff up this afternoon.”

“Isn’t your laptop still being screwy?”

“...Maybe.” It was more like Hinata’s ancient laptop had given a sudden death kneel--complete with hisses and the screen flashing--and Hinata was sorta scared he’d get electrocuted if he even touched it. “I’ll use my phone.”

“I could just buy you a laptop, you know,” Atsumu muttered. It wasn’t the first time; Hinata even knew his next line.

Hinata grinned. “That’s really sweet, Atsumu. Absolutely not, you’re already doing enough of the research anyway.”

“Shut up,” Atsumu grumbled. “I am not sweet, this is a trade. Your laptop’s a piece of crap, like actually the worst and I--like any normal human being--am doing my part in putting it out of its misery. Basic compassion right here.”

“But, I don’t need a new laptop,” Hinata insisted like he always did. “I’ve got my phone. That’ll work until I get a job.”

Which he was totally going to get. Soon, too. It was just a little harder than he thought when he didn’t really have a great grip on the language yet.

“Hinata, I’m begging you as a friend here, please don’t resort to selling your organs on the black market.”

Hinata rolled his eyes. “I would never do that. I need them for volleyball.”

“Is that seriously the only reason?”

“Think about how long surgery recovery would take,” Hinata teased. “I only have two years here.”

“I worry about you. Like fundamentally.”

Hinata tilted his head. “But what if I could get like super organs instead.”

“Like Terminator?”

“Yeah! I’m pretty sure I read a manga where that happened once.” He paused. “Oh my gosh, Atsumu, imagine how amazing volleyball would be with superpowers!”

“There’s no way the V.League would approve that.” Atsumu breathed in. “But, what if…”

“I’d get super speed,” Hinata broke in excitedly, “or maybe flying. Oh, or super strength! Imagine hitting a spike with super strength!”

“Awesome!” Atsumu’s voice was speeding up. “What if I had one of those specialty powers like super precision or something! It could get around so many blockers; Suna would be so pissed off! I could set the ball anywhere!”

Hinata huffed. “You already do that.”

Atsumu broke off, sounding pleased. “Really?”

“Of course,” Hinata said. “Hey, wait, how was practice? You got to meet the new libero, right?”

“Yeah, Inunaki--he’s pretty cool. He was mainly working with--” Atsumu cut off, “Fuck, Shou, I gotta tell you about this thing Barnes and I did!”

Atsumu started rambling--words choppy and quick as he got deeper into the retelling of practice in a way that had Hinata hanging off every word. In an abstract sense, Hinata knew that he himself was a people person; he’d always been good at making friends and deeply appreciated every single one he was able to hang onto.

He’d never had a friend like Atsumu.

-------

Shuffling the Deck

(Since it’s late, have an entire opening scene)

ooooooo- 30 Years Prior -ooooooo

Once there was a girl who grew up with her grandmother in a barely patched house, closed in by cliffs.

She was a quiet girl, a pretty face and delicate hands always kept clean despite the threadbare clothes that hung more like rags. The girl did not like to play with the other children which was fitting as they didn’t much like to play with her either.

Instead, she liked to read.

And, more than that, she liked to watch the garden.

Which is what she chose to do, one day at eight years old on the same morning a prominent merchant staggered in to see her grandmother--a terrible illness spreading through his veins and blood in his cough.

The girl was fine with blood but didn’t care for coughing so she stayed exactly where she was, laying on her stomach with head propped in hands while she took in the delicate threads of a spider web.

She always thought the webs were the prettiest part of the garden. They were so very thin and frail that one could barely notice them until they got up close. And, then, once they saw them, they could see the patterns and shapes so carefully woven as if by an artisan.

Sometimes, she even saw the spider. 

Sometimes, she tried to get it to crawl to her hand.

 It never did though. No matter what she did. The spider was too cautious, too scared of what it believed had power over it.

That was how spiders worked, really. They spun their masterpieces with so much care and precision and, then, they waited patiently for the art to be observed.

The girl was not the only one who found the spider web this morning.

A fly had come across the threads first--likely by accident but the girl liked to imagine that it was the beauty that had drawn the fly in the same as it had done her.

She wondered if the fly still appreciated the art of the web.

It was still alive.

She watched it struggle. Its wings beat uselessly, its many legs trapped in the delicate threads, and a buzzing cry sounding so frantic for such a small creature.

For a moment, she debated on saving it.

She could, of course.

But, that would mean tearing down the gorgeous web that she adored.

But, that would mean the spider may starve and there would be no new web tomorrow.

And, besides, why did she care about dirtying her hands for the sake of a dying fly.

The door of the cottage opened and the girl glanced up idly.

The merchant was stumbling out, gratitude and lavish promises on his breath and a healthy glow back in his cheeks. Her grandmother was smiling kindly, accepting the praise yet turning down the offers same as she always did until eventually the merchant went away.

The girl looked back to the web.

The fly was dead, quickly being wrapped up by the spider to save for later.

She turned back to her grandmother. “He was rich, you know? I heard the other kids talking about him in town. His shipping business goes all the way up to the wealthy islands in the north. If you let him do even half the things he offered, we could live in a mansion and you wouldn’t have to hurt your fingers so much mending clothes.” The tone wasn’t accusing, merely curious. “Why did you say no?”

“Oh, my dear,” Her grandmother leaned down to kiss her hair and the girl allowed it, “because our powers are a gift. They’re not meant to be hoarded and offered for a price. They’re meant to be shared. Besides,” the woman sighed as she watched the road, “what kind of price would that be? Who would I be to demand it? Those who are desperate--for their lives, for those they love--would pay anything. They’d do anything. Who could ever put a price on such a weight? It’s beyond human measure.” 

She smiled down at her granddaughter. “Do you understand, my darling Mimi?”

Maemi frowned before nodding, looking down at the spider web. 

“Yes, I understand.”

There was no way to know what would have happened if the old woman took up the merchant’s offer. Likely she never would have. She was not that type of person. All that there was to know is that the grandmother and the little girl remained at the patched up cottage, just like they had the girl’s whole life and her grandmother’s life before hers.

They were there six months later when the oceans swelled and brought the waves into shore. 

They were not both there after.

Six months later, a man and a girl waded through water as they searched a broken down cottage for survivors.

Well, the man searched at least.

The girl had stopped beside a tree, tall and strong enough to survive a tsunami.

On the bottom branch, at the lowest hanging twig, was a spider’s web just barely managing not to be swept into the water.

The spider was still alive.

But, it wouldn’t be for long.

It struggled, trying to climb up faster even as the bottom of its beautiful web was destroyed by the current.

For a moment, she debated on saving it.

She could, of course.

So, she did.

She snapped a twig from another branch and held it out for the spider to crawl, too. It did willingly, anything to avoid the water below.

It had never crawled to her hand before.

Not like it did now when it was desperate for life.

Maemi watched her dear spider crawl into her open hand.

And, then, she plunged her hand into the water and watched her dear spider drown.

“Yes, grandmother, I understand completely.”

[taexual]

HOLIC - 4 | jb x reader

Strangers, united by their big dreams, try to learn to live together and lift each other up to reach their goals without losing themselves or their relationship on the way to the top.

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: strong language

words: 1.9k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

          prev / next

You were beyond outraged that Jaebum was enough of a child about this to actually break your bed just so he’d win the bet. You truly considered breaking his neck in revenge – especially after he dared to ask for your help – but instead of that, you glared at him and walked back to your room, deciding that the best kind of revenge would be to somehow fix the damage he’s done and win the bet despite his attempts to sabotage your hard work.

However, the side board he had broken was hanging off its hinges and it only took you a moment to conclude that you couldn’t actually fix this unless you had proper industrial glue. Upon closer inspection, however, you realized that not even the strongest adhesive would have helped you fix this properly – Jaebum had even managed to break a piece of the wood off, so the sideboard was now about five centimeters shorter than it should have been and, thus, you could no longer attach it to the baseboard.

Gritting your teeth together, you understood that you’d have to pay money to replace it and there was nothing that you wanted more than to rip the broken board off and just hit Jaebum right on the—okay, violence wasn’t the answer. He’d acted like a child but that didn’t mean that you had to act like one, too.

And yet you couldn’t help but be petty as you purposefully turned off all the lights in the apartment – Jaebum kept tripping whenever he walked out to get himself a glass of water – and, after grabbing your laptop, sat down in the kitchen. Every time Jaebum walked past you, you refused to look up at him and, he had to admit, the way your laptop screen illuminated your face really made you look vicious. He almost regretted breaking your bed.

Then, four hours later, he strolled into the kitchen again, yawning and stretching – this time you refused to admire the way his body looked – as he stopped next to the kitchen island, watching you for a moment.

“Guess I won the bet then,” he announced, not mentioning that it literally took him five hours to finish assembling his bed and it was now two in the morning. “Are you going to ignore me? What are you doing?”

“Looking up knives.”

Jaebum opened his mouth to speak but he wasn’t sure if you were serious or just annoyed with him. He admitted that it could’ve also been both.

His hesitation didn’t go unnoticed by you, though.

“You stink,” you spoke again, even though you couldn’t really smell him. You just needed to express your pent-up aggression with words. “Go take a shower.”

Jaebum grinned. “Alright. I’ll go do that. And then I’ll get a fantastic night’s sleep on my brand new bed.”

You told him to fuck off under your breath but the echo of his laughter as he walked towards the bathroom let you know that he still heard you.

Suddenly frustrated again, you leaned back in your chair and glanced into his room through the gap he had left in the door. His bed had indeed been built. He even put the mattress on and had the sheets ready.

An idea hit you then.

Jaebum had literally broken your bed because he was childish like that. You may not have wanted to drop to his level, but sometimes, certain sacrifices had to be made.

Taking your phone and your laptop with you, – just to be sure he wouldn’t break your other valuable stuff while you were doing this, – you sneaked into his room, your bravery fueled by the sound of the shower running in the bathroom; you knew he wasn’t going to catch you. Then, you placed your electronics under the blanket, crawled under it as well, and spread out in the very middle of his bed.

This was your bed now. Jaebum could sleep on the mattress – or on the broken bed frame – in your room. Call it revenge.

Naturally, when Jaebum returned to his room thirty minutes later, he had no idea you were there since you were lying flat against the mattress. He calmly changed into new clothes – all while you stayed with your head under the blanket so you wouldn’t have to watch – and, after tossing the blanket aside, he took a leap back, yelping in shock as his back hit the wall.

“Jesus—fuck! Shit!” swear words spilled from his lips as you continued to lay peacefully in the middle of the bed, trying to act as if you were completely unbothered even though his reaction certainly made you want to giggle. You perservered, though. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“I’m sleeping,” you shot back in a purposefully quiet tone. “This is my bed.”

“No, it isn’t,” Jaebum replied matter-of-factly. “I built this.”

“Technically, you broke the bed frame that I built,” you responded. “It’s only fair I take this one. You can sleep on the mattress in my room.”

“That’s now how this works!” he insisted, although, a small part in his mind recognized that you were right. He would have done the exact same thing had your roles been switched.

“It is now,” you countered. “I’m sleeping here.”

“No—what the fuck?” he continued to protest even though, at this point, it was clear that you weren’t going to budge. “You can’t just sleep in my room.”

He made this too easy for you as you countered, without missing a beat, “you can’t just break people’s beds.”

“Really?” Jaebum retorted. “This is how we’re going to do this? What are we, twelve?”

“You tell me,” you said, snuggling your face into the pillow to tease him further. “You’re the one who broke—”

“Alright, I got it!” he shouted defeatedly, and you heard footsteps which had to mean that he was walking closer to the door. You were so close to winning. “Just for the record, I’m not giving up. You might sleep here tonight but it’s a one-time thing.”

“I’m staying here until you fix my bed,” you said. “If it takes you one night, then I’ll gladly leave tomorrow.”

Groaning instead of replying, Jaebum slammed the door of his bedroom shut and headed to your room. You could hear the floor tiles creak as he walked around, probably trying to decide what to do with the broken bed frame that occupied half of the room, and the mattress that occupied the other half.

Smiling a little to yourself, you opened your eyes and took in Jaebum’s room, even though you couldn’t see anything due to the darkness. You didn’t really want to see anything specific, you just glanced at the few details that differentiated Jaebum’s room from yours – like the soft light on his wireless router blinking on the floor in the corner of the room – simply to prove to yourself that you had just defeated him in however petty of an argument the two of you had had.

You may have technically lost the bet, but taking over Jaebum’s bed was certainly a winning move.

You had a free day on Monday because the gallery you worked in wasn’t open today, so, after falling asleep at three last night, you expected to stay in bed until midday at the very least. That was not what happened at all, however, and less than five hours after you had fallen asleep, you were woken up by a jarring noise coming from the kitchen.

At first, you tried to ignore it, flipping to your other side and even covering your head with the blanket, but the sound didn’t seem to stop and the more you anticipated its ending, the louder it seemed to get. It was starting to feel as if someone was drilling a hole inside of your brain.

Groaning, you tossed the blanket off of yourself and got out of the bed, throwing the door of the room open.

Right as you glanced at the source of the noise – both of the blenders you had were whirring loudly on the counter in the kitchen – you also noticed Jaebum’s wide smile.

“Morning!” he called out, his smile widening when he saw your sour features.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you yelled, your voice rough with irritation.

“I’m off for a run. I always run before work on Monday mornings,” he said, stepping around the kitchen island to reveal the athletic attire he was wearing. Actually, it was the same outfit he had slept with since he couldn’t exactly change into anything else, but he was still gloating. “I need a smoothie before I go.”

“Why the two blenders, then?” you asked even though you knew very well why he was using two blenders. This was clearly his payback for you kicking him out of his bed last night.

“I didn’t know which one was mine,” he explained, an expression of exactly zero remorse decorating his face. “We have identical ones, you see, so I just figured I’d turn them both on at the same time and check if I can tell them apart.”

“You fucking asshole.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, still smiling. “Did it wake you up?”

“Fuck you, Jaebum.”

You could hear his laughter as you turned around and you had to talk yourself out of hurling the first thing you saw at him. Powering through it, you walked back to his bedroom, slamming the door shut.

Grumpy and irritated, you sat down on the bed. You listened to him keep the blenders going for another few minutes – no doubt wanting to ensure you didn’t go back to sleep – and then prepared to wait until he got out of the apartment so you could leave the room. However, it was the door of this room that Jaebum opened in a few minutes instead.

“I came for my sneakers,” he explained and then headed for one of the boxes at the far end of the room. You debated throwing the contents of it out of the window when he left. “You can go back to sleep, I won’t disturb you anymore.”

“Fuck off, asshole,” you shot back, swear words becoming your sword and your shield of armor whenever you were angry.

Jaebum didn’t feel offended by your words in the slightest, though. If anything, he found your comments endearing.

“Alright,” he said, sneakers in hand. “I’m going now. I should be back in about forty-five minutes unless it’s impossible to jog here with all the puddles from yesterday’s rain.”

“I hope you fall into the biggest one,” you said, your ill-humored wish amusing him further. “Hopefully you know how to swim.”

“Don’t worry if I don’t. I’ll be sure to give you a call so you can come save me,” he teased, giving you a wink. “A little lifeguard roleplay, hmm?”

His wink had already made you livid but the last comment is what got you to stand up from the bed and glare at him.

“Get out before I start throwing things,” you threatened, meaning every word.

Your whole overreaction entertained him to no end – that, and the fact that there weren’t many heavy things you could have thrown – and he laughed one more time before finally leaving the room.

A few minutes later, you finally heard the apartment door close; Jaebum had left.

He was truly testing your patience today but he had started a war by waking you up this morning and there was no way you were going to go down easy now. Childish or not, this was a game that two could play.

             chapter directory

[canaryatlaw]

OKAY so today was a good day. in a strange twist of fate I actually woke up at like, 9:30 am and couldn’t really fall back asleep, so I got up early and made myself an actually like, nice breakfast and chilled out for a bit which was nice, then got changed and got ready to go on my Target trip. I was all prepared to take public transit there, then I stepped outside to discover it was raining. And I mean it would be one thing if it was just one bus I needed to get there, but there aren’t any buses taking me all the way there so I either have to coordinate multiple buses or walk for a fairly long stretch, neither of which are terrible conducive to doing in the rain. So I basically said fuck it and got an uber pool to at least save a little money. That was fine, we ended up picking up this funny guy who I’m like 95% sure was gay because I’ve never met a straight man who wore a fishnet shirt before and he referred to me several times as “sweetheart” but not in like a creepy guy way but more of a gay way I guess (don’t really know how to phrase that). but he was super funny and we were laughing, he had ubered home last night and left his bike at his friend’s house, so he was now ubering to his friends house to pick up the bike and then have to ride it back in the rain lol, so I gave him my sympathies and wished him luck on his quest. Made it to Target after that, pretty productive shopping trip, I had been collecting a list of like little things I needed to grab so this was a good trip. I got sandals for summer that I’m looking forward to wearing, and I was able to get my Xanax prescription renewed which I wasn’t sure was going to happen because they have weird rules about refills since it’s a controlled substance, so I was happy about that. I then grabbed a few ingredients for dinner tonight and grabbed Jess a few snacks before heading out. It was still raining by the time I got out so I uber pooled back to my house which was fine. Put everything away once I got home, and then started the task of cleaning the kitchen, since it’s been a while since I’ve done so and things were starting to pile up. That’s the thing about setting your own hours, there’s no such thing as free time anymore, there’s just time I could be working, so tasks like cleaning tend to get ignored. so that took a while to get everything washed and good to go, but once that was done I moved on to the first baking project which was to finally use the two very brown bananas I’ve had in my fridge for like two weeks now and make some banana bread. the recipe called for creaming the butter and sugar together in a mixer, then combining some ingredients in the blender. WELL. guess whose blender didn’t want to cooperate. At some point there was a chip in the glass towards the bottom on the blender jar that didn’t actually affect the glass or anything, no cracks, but apparently it now let things seep out the bottom, so I ended up with a massive mess on my hands from that, I was lucky enough to save the bananas at least but had to toss the rest of the ingredients I’d put in so far. So, being down a blender, I painstakingly got all the butter/sugar mixture out of the mixer, washed the bowl, put the ingredients in there, and then mixed them until they were hopefully smooth. The next part involved introducing the banana blend to the butter/sugar with flour one cup at a time, but I just said fuck it and threw it all in the mixer and it seemed to work without much of a problem so I was pleased with that. Got that in the pan and cooked for 45 minutes while I prepped our bubble tea for tonight and then started on dinner. I was trying this recipe for a taco pizza which looked promising, where I basically had to prepare all the ingredients separately and then put them all together. Jess messaged me when she got off work that it was pouring rain by her so I got anxious it was going to start raining here (because it hadn’t been doing so yet) and she wouldn’t be able to come over, but thankfully she did otherwise I would’ve been stuck with a hella lot of food for just me, lol. So when she got here we ate dinner and then debated what we wanted to watch, ultimately deciding on “the chef show” which the trailer for had auto-played when we opened netflix and we saw it had Tom Holland and RDJ in it so we said sure why not and watched that, it was pretty good but definitely just became background noise at some point, but oh well. Eventually Jess headed home and I finished the episode we were watching before switching over to Anthony Bourdain. I wasn’t paying all that much attention to his show either though because I wa finally reading the report from the investigation at my parents church about sexual abuse allegations against a former pastor/current missionary and oh man, the report was so damn good, it had so many quotes that were just absolutely perfect and I wanted to steal (it is of course confidential, but I may have copied one or two just for my own personal reference). So I felt very good about that. Once I was done with that I showered and started getting ready for bed, and now I’m here, and I just got hit with my tiredness like a fucking freight train, so I’m gonna take that as a sign that I should end this here. Goodnight dearies. Almost Friday....so close.