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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years ago

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Don’t Treat My Love Like a Habit Part Fourteen

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Pairing: Santiago Garcia x Reader Rating: Mature (this may change) Warnings: Cursing; angst... And well.... Y’all will see Notes: Set before the movie. Not beta-read. Reina is Spanish for Queen. I hope everyone’s having a good week! 💜 Summary: You’d spent the last few days checking all of the cameras we had available for Hernandez, but you hadn’t been able to get another fix on the man.

The tracker stopped giving off a signal somewhere around El Eden, outside Jericó. There was no way for you to know if it had been knocked loose, or if it had been found, but it gave you a direction. It also put Hernandez in range of one of the last in-person sightings of Lorea, down by Las Minas. “So I’ll drive down--” “I don’t know if you should be driving anywhere. You haven’t even gotten your stitches out yet,” You gave the phone a withering look, willing Alex to feel the power of the stare from the other end. You and Pope were at the office, looking down at a readout of all of the places the tracker had given off a signal before cutting. You’d spent the last few days checking all of the cameras we had available for Hernandez, but you hadn’t been able to get another fix on the man. Pope told you that he hadn’t gotten anything else about Hernandeze’s whereabouts from his informant, either, and that she hadn’t even expected him to be in the car that night.

The two of you had taken to calling Alex when we were in the office and having him on speakerphone when we were talking over status updates that day. You tended to go by his apartment at least once a day to check on him, make sure he was eating properly and helping out if he needed it. Pope had gone with you a couple of times, and they had been… Amiable. “Fine, you drive,” Alex retorted. You shook your head. “I’m still looking through these feeds. I get that we may get something closer to where the tracker cut, but-- I don’t want anyone going anywhere until we have something more firm. If the tech just shat the bed, or they found it and broke it, going down to El Eden isn’t going to solve anything, it’s just going to waste time.”

“Pope, your informant doesn’t have anything?” “She didn’t the last time I spoke to her,” Pope turned his head toward the phone to answer, his eyes still set firmly on the map, “But I have a check-in with her in a couple of hours.” A check-in. You were pointedly not thinking about what that might entail. “Look, soon as we get something that looks like Hernandez--” “What if we don’t?” Alex asked. You went quiet. It was a fair question. The man had slipped up once; he’d be raising his guard, making sure nothing like that happened again. You and Pope had both been twice as cautious that week, double- and triple-checking that the door was locked before we went to bed. “We will,” Pope answered. You turned to look at him, taking in the set of his brow, the way his lips were pulling down. He meant, ‘We have to’.

You hadn’t had a quiet night alone without Pope since the office had been broken into. It was… Odd. Not eerie or anything, but just like something was missing. You’d briefly, stupidly, wondered if Pope felt like this when you’d stayed with Alex at the hospital. It was Pope’s apartment, he was used to being there alone. Well maybe not alone, but at least without you there-- You huffed, closing the fridge door for what had to be the fifth time that evening. Pope hadn’t told you when he’d be home back when he’d left to meet with his informant. “You gonna tell me what her name is, or should I call her Isabella 2.0?” You’d tried to tease. He’d cast you a dour look as he’d tugged jacket. “What’s it matter what her name is?” He’d asked, and the words had left him with such tired irritation that you immediately felt stupid for saying anything. “No, it… It doesn’t,” You’d mumbled. He’d just grunted, said he’d let you and ‘Brano know if he got anything, and left.

Maybe he hadn’t sounded that irritated? Maybe you’d just been thinking about it too long. Being in the apartment alone gave you a lot of time and silence in which to overthink things. You’d texted Frankie and the guys to see how they were doing, but Benny had a fight that night, so you wouldn’t be able to distract yourself with them for at least another few hours, and by then, Santiago would be home. Hopefully. Hopefully Santiago would be home. Back. Hopefully Santiago would be back.

Hernandez is hunkered down in Las Minas. You’d jumped at the sound of your phone, and now you were just staring at the text that had come through from Santiago. Lorea? Was Alex’s answering text. Unclear, Pope’s response came through in seconds.

Las Minas, you could work with that. First thing in the morning, you’d go in and start working through the camera feeds that you could access from Diego’s office. You opened your separate texts with Santiago. Coming back soon?

You watched the screen for a few moments before setting the phone aside. A few more minutes, nothing. He’d answered Alex so quickly. You looked around the apartment, stomach churning. Maybe you wouldn’t wait until morning to head into the office and start combing through those camera feeds.

You left him a post-it, of course.

“So I’ve got five possible targets, there are like three that I’m ready to rule out, but I wanted to get your read on them before I dropped them completely,” You said, not even bothering with a ‘hello’, instead pointing to a map on the wall with printed-out imagery from the cameras you’d been able to access pinned to it, “The red tacks are the ones I think are the most likely, blue are the ones I wanna ditch.” “Have you been here all night?” Pope didn’t bother with a ‘hello’, either. “Where else would I be?” You returned your hand to the keyboard, eyes still on the monitor. “I don’t know, with Zambrano?” He said it like it was obvious, like you were over there all the time, beyond helping the guy since he was wounded. “Just stopped by after work for a bit.” “And then?” “Would you look at the map, please?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as snappy as it had, but you were… Tired, and annoyed - more annoyed than tired. Santiago had never answered your text, nor had he texted you when he got in, which you’d asked him to do on the post-it. To top it all off, he was asking if you had been at the office all night. So, presumably, he hadn’t gotten in, had spent the night elsewhere, and… And you’d gotten a tip out of it. Anything else that happened didn’t matter, and you didn’t care anyway, and this game of emotional whack-a-mole was really starting to take it out of you.

You didn’t dare look at Pope, didn’t want to know whether he was looking at you or the map in the stilted silence that followed. But after a few moments, you heard his footsteps trail away from your desk, over to the wall, and you let yourself glance over your shoulder. Same jacket as yesterday - but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. You lowered your head back to your work, shaking your head a little. What he was wearing, what he did last night or didn’t do, none of that mattered, none of it-- “Ditch the blue.” Pope’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you grabbed the pen you’d set aside hours ago, crossing them off of the list that you’d compiled. “Too conspicuous?” You asked. “Yep.” You tossed the pen back onto the desk and glanced over at Pope, watching him look at the two remaining targets. They weren’t terribly far from one another, but they couldn’t be monitored by one person. “I’ll get Zambrano, drive down, hit them today,” Pope said, pulling his jacket sleeve back and glancing back down at his wrist, “He can drive. We won’t engage if we see anything, it’ll be strictly recon,” He added, glancing back at you. You turned back to your computer, nodding and wordless. You didn’t like the idea, but you knew that the tip that Pope had gotten would need to be moved on quickly. “You should go back to the apartment, get some rest,” Pope added, heading for the door of your small office space. “I’ve got some stuff to wrap up here,” You shook your head. “Reina.” You looked up at Pope then, raising a brow and waiting for him to speak. He hesitated before he sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll grab walkie-talkies, Zambrano and I will radio when we’re in position.” “Fine,” You nodded, and were on your way to adding, “Be careful,” When you found yourself speaking to the door.

“How was the fight?” You asked, leaning back from your monitor and stretching your back over your chair as you spoke into your chair. “What fight?” Alex’s voice crackled through your headset. “Mic,” Pope’s sighed over Alex’s question. “Shit, hang on, ‘Fish-- Sorry, guys,” You apologized before tapping the mute button on your headset - the controls were so damn sensitive. You’d already accidentally knocked them half a dozen times. You raised your phone back to the ear you’d pushed your headset back from. “Sorry, Fish.” “Late night?” Frankie chuckled. “... So how was the fight?” You repeated, not in the mood to touch that just yet. “It was great. Benny kicked the guy’s ass.” “Atta boy,” You grinned, pushing yourself out of your seat, “How’ve you been?” You listened to Frankie catch you up on what you’d missed the last couple of weeks, checking your phone screen now and again for any texts from Santiago or Alex, just in case. “You okay, Q?” “Fine, why?” “You sound a little...Dead.” “Forgot what a sweet-talker you were, chulo.” “You know I don’t mean it like that--” “I’m teasing, Frankie,” You smiled a little, grabbing your mug and walking over to where you’d set up the coffee maker in the back office that Diego had allotted you and Pope, “I’m fine, just… Yeah, late night. Work, you know.” You hesitated as you set your mug down, thinking. “...Frank?” “Yeah?” “Let’s say… Hypothetically… That there was a, like… Snowball’s chance in hell that there was some truth to all the teasing you’ve done about me and Pope.” “How big a snowball?” “You know that boulder that chases Indiana Jones in Raiders of the Lost Ark?” “Oh, no!” Frankie laughed, and you couldn’t help but smile a little bit at the sound of it -- it was so light, and after the mental hell you’d been putting yourself through, it was nice to hear someone laughing about it. “What’s going on?” He asked. You looked down at the coffee pot, trying to cobble your thoughts together. “It’s just-- Ugh, hang on,” You reached up, adjusting your headset as it began to slip, your hand brushing the controls as you did, “It’s just that-- I don’t know if it’s because I’m staying with the guy, or-- Or what, but I can’t get him out of my head. It’s bad, Frankie. And I mean, it’s not new, either, I’ve had feelings for Santiago since… Since before I took this job. I mean they weren’t always serious, not like they are now, but there’s always been something there for me--” Now that you were admitting it, you couldn’t get the words to stop; they were spilling out like unorganized tupperware from a hastily shut cupboard, “But fuck, it’s just been so much-- Worse isn’t the word, I mean, noticeable, maybe. Fuck, I’ve been living with the guy, we sleep in the same bed, and he’s cuddly, and I like it way too much. I spent half the night looking for new apartments because I just… I can’t do it anymore. If I don’t get out of there, I think I’m gonna fall in lo--” “Hey Q?” Alex’s voice crackled in through your earpiece. “Hang on ‘Fish--” You sighed, raising your hand to your headset. But before you could even touch it-- “Your mic is on,” Santiago’s voice was quiet, almost regretful. Your heart slammed into your rib cage with the force of a freight train. You reached up with a shaking hand, tapping the mic button on your headset again to mute it. “...Francisco, I’m going to need to call you back.” Tag list: @justanotherblonde23 ; @revolution-starter ; @emurlemur ; @badbitxhbuckybarnes ; @supernaturalcat7 ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo

#Don't Treat My Love Like a Habit #Santiago Garcia x Reader #Santiago Garcia #Santiago Garcia/Reader #Santiago Garcia/You #Santiago Garcia x You #Santiago Pope Garcia x Reader #Santiago Pope Garcia x You #Santiago Pope Garcia Imagine #santiago pope garcia #Santiago Garcia Imagine

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yoontopia · 4 years ago

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sobremesa | kth

pairing: kim taehyung x (f) reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers(?). tiny amounts of smut in the form of grinding, heavy makeout sessions in a car, mostly fluff, microscopic amounts of angst HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAE!!!!

rating: M

word count: 9.1k

sobremesa: a spanish word for that time spent after a meal, hanging out with family or friends, enjoying each others’ company

summary: you’ve known Kim Taehyung practically all your life – your parents are best friends and that inevitably leads to the two of you being forced to hang out at family gatherings – being the same age and all. But you don’t really know Kim Taehyung beyond cramped bedrooms, family potlucks, and annual New Year’s Eve parties. He’s never been a part of your picture and you’ve never been a part of his. You know Kim Taehyung in snapshots, periodic glimpses into his life over shared meals that will never overlap with yours outside these little moments. Or so you think.

-2006-

“This is my boy – Taehyung – he’s twelve too!” Mr. Kim announces, with a wide smile on his face. You stare curiously at the little boy hiding behind his father. He’s got a tuft of dark hair and he looks over at you curiously, like you’re a specimen at a museum. Your dad pats you on your back and one look at his face tells you that you’re meant to entertain this Taehyung kid.

“Oh, um,” you say, stepping forward. “We can just hang out in my room, I guess.”

“We’ll call you when dinner’s ready,” your mom tells you, smiling encouragingly. You nod and beckon Kim Taehyung upstairs. He follows you wordlessly and you usher him into your bedroom. He looks around, that same curious expression on his face before making himself comfortable on the beanbag chair you keep in your room.

“So, do you wanna like—watch a movie or something?” You don’t have a lot of experience with boys. Taehyung is small for his age though, and you can look at him in the eye if he stands up. He’s a lot smaller than the boys you’re used to at school, and so you find yourself more comfortable with him. He shrugs in response and you heave out your beloved laptop your dad had so kindly let you use for the night. Taehyung’s eyes flicker towards your bookshelf and his expression visibly brightens.

“You like Cardcaptor Sakura?” he asks, and you hear his voice for the first time. You look at him in surprise. No boy at your school likes Cardcaptor Sakura, but you love the series and your parents bought you a couple of volumes for your birthday.

“Yeah! It’s really cute. Uhm… do you wanna watch that instead? I have the DVD set.” Taehyung nods, looking far more enthusiastic than before and the two of you binge the entire first season, sitting shoulder to shoulder on your double bed.

-2007-

You don’t know anyone here. It’s somebody’s birthday, but they’re an adult and you don’t really care. These kids are unfamiliar and rowdy and honestly all you want to do is go home and read Harry Potter until you fall asleep. You’d hang out with your parents, but they’d ushered you to go play with the other kids. Looking through the various bedrooms in this ridiculously large house you hear voices coming from behind a shut door.

Knocking before opening it slowly, you peek in only to find Kim Taehyung with his arm around some kid’s neck. They’re on the floor, wrestling. Boys, you sigh mentally. Taehyung looks up, hair in his eyes, a sheen of sweat covering him.

“My phone—get my phone!” He’s yelling your name and you’re surprised he even remembers you. You’d only hung out a handful of times after your first, fateful meeting after all. You glance down and pick up the small black device the other boy is trying to reach for. Taehyung lets the other kid go and he’s gasping for air as you hand the phone back to its rightful owner.

“I’m Jungkook,” the boy introduces, voice high. “Junghyun’s younger brother,” You have no idea who Junghyun is, but you nod and introduce yourself anyway. “Are you Tae’s age?” Your eyes travel to Taehyung, who’s scrolling on his phone now.

“Yeah,” he answers for you, and you’re surprised to hear how his voice has deepened. “She’s my age. Close the door, will you? We’re watching Claymore and Kook’s mom will have a stroke if she finds out—he’s only ten.” You shut the door behind you cautiously. At least he hadn’t demanded you leave.

Feeling weirdly accepted and elated, you sit down to join the boys.

-2008-

Jungkook becomes a part of your small family-friends group. None of you even go to the same schools, but you see each other occasionally when your parents want to spend time with their friends. You like Jungkook, even though he’s younger. He’s friendly and bubbly and likes manga as much as you do. You’re still scared of his older brother though, but Junghyun is old (three whole years older than you!) and he’s allowed to stay home alone when his parents leave so he never comes anyway. Rumor has it that he even has a girlfriend.

You’re making it through life like any middle-schooler would. You have two close friends at school that you do everything with and it’s the year your dad presents you with your first phone. It’s got a full keyboard and you can text Jiyeon and Solhee whenever you want. You spend hours into the night talking about Jung Hoseok, who’s a ninth grader, and how cool he is. You have the tiniest crush on Hoseok – he’s the dance team captain, and he always smiles at you in the hallways even though he doesn’t know you. Hoseok smiles at everyone, it’s just how amazing he is. You’re too shy to talk to him though, envying the girls he speaks to on the daily. You think you and Hoseok would be good friends if you were braver.

-2009-

“You’re going to a French immersion high school? Seriously?” You don’t know if you’re more impressed or exasperated. Maybe both. Taehyung nods and accepts the cup of tea you offer him. You can hear your parents heartily belting out to some 80’s pop song in the basement – it seems the karaoke session is going well.

“Figured its never too late to learn,” he shrugs, taking a sip of the drink and wincing because its piping hot. His voice has deepened now that the two of you are fourteen, sounding like it’s dipped in honey. “Plus, all my friends are going there, and I don’t wanna be that guy who knows no one at his high school on the first day.” You try to laugh along, but it comes out all awkward—you don’t want to admit that that’s going to be you at your new school. Taehyung eyes you suspiciously.

“But of course,” he continues, in that same airy tone. “I think it’d be cool to start over somewhere where no one knows you. A clean slate.” You smile privately at his tact.

“It’s nerve-wracking though. What if I don’t make friends?” you sound small as you voice out the one fear you’ve been too scared to admit. Taehyung hums and sips his tea again.

“You will,” he says easily. “But if you don’t you always have me and Jungkook. We’re practically forced to hang out with you.”

You throw your wet teabag at him. He laughs, the sound rich and deep and you find your mind cleared of your anxiety.

-2010-

“Ay here comes the Frenchie,” Jungkook wolf-whistles and you turn around to see Taehyung making his way toward you. “Are you fluent yet?”

“No, but I can tell you to fuck off in more than one language now,” Taehyung grins, giving you a one-armed hug in greeting. He smells like vanilla and clean laundry – a refreshing contrast from the boys at school that drown in Old Spice. You want to bury your nose in his sweatshirt.

“Wow, school fees well spent,” Jungkook nods sagely. “I can’t believe I’m the only middle-schooler left.” Taehyung is taking his seat in the chair next to you, your hand still grasped in his, much larger and warmer one. Taehyung has always been physical – not just with you, but with everyone. You’re all at a restaurant this time, celebrating the fact that Junghyun not only got into his dream university, but managed to survive without flunking his first semester. You don’t know why you had to squeeze into a dress for this occasion, but alright. You barely even know Junghyun – he doesn’t fraternize with his kid brother’s best friends. “Oy, here’s Jimin.” The two of you look up to see another boy making his way towards you. “My mom’s best friend’s kid,” Jungkook whispers to you two, rather like he’s divulging the nation’s greatest secrets.

Jimin sits down next to Jungkook and you mutter polite hellos at each other. As it turns out, he’s the same age as you and Taehyung.

“So, this is the kid’s end of the table, huh?” Taehyung murmurs in your ear and you laugh.

“Don’t complain – would you rather sit next to my dad and have him clap you on the back hard every minute?” Taehyung winces at that, clearly having multiple war flashbacks. Jimin stares at you two.

“So how do you all know each other?” has asks. Taehyung blinks.

“Oh me? I’ve known her—since when—? We were like twelve,” you nod. Has it really been that long? You’re sixteen now. “And I met Jungkook not long after, I think.”

“The three musketeers,” Jungkook cheers, raising his glass as if its not full of just orange juice. Jimin nods. Taehyung rolls his eyes

As the dinner progresses, you find out you like Jimin too. He’s friendly and before you know it, you have each other on Facebook. Jungkook proclaims that all of you need a way to keep in touch and that’s how you find yourself in a group chat with three noisy boys.

-2011-

“Uno motherfucker!” Jungkook dramatically throws down his second-last card onto the pile. You groan. How is this boy so ridiculously good at literally every game?

“Not so fast, Jeon,” Taehyung is next to you, wearing pajama bottoms with ducklings on them. Throwing down his only wild card, he’s changing the color of cards up. You laugh delightedly because thank-you-Tae-you-lifesaver. He gives you a hearty fist bump. Jimin is on your other side, and as always, the man is more action than words because he quietly puts down a +4 that has Jungkook screaming into his pillow.

You’re all cooped up in your bedroom. Taehyung’s parents have already told him he could stay over, and he’s promptly changed into his sleeping clothes. It isn’t a rare occurrence for him to crash in your guest bedroom every time your parents hang out late into the night. Jimin and Jungkook are still in their jeans getting more and more uncomfortable by the hour. It’s past midnight and the parents downstairs have no intention of ending the party any time soon.

“You should’ve just stayed over too,” Taehyung says, watching Jungkook trying to change his sitting position for the third time in the last twenty minutes.

“I live literally down the block,” Jungkook snaps. It’s true – Jungkook’s family had moved onto your street only last year. “I’ll sleep in my own bed thanks.”

“Besides, is Jooyoung okay with you staying over at another girl’s house?” Jimin mutters, picking up a card and frowning. “Won’t she have a fit?”

“Who?” you and Jungkook ask at the same time.

“His girlfriend,” Jimin giggles next to you, and Jungkook is practically yodeling. Taehyung’s ears go slightly red. You look at him in surprise.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” you tell him and his ears, if possible, go even redder.

“He’s been with her for a whole month,” Jimin proclaims proudly and you’re looking at Taehyung again because wow—that seems serious.

You have no expertise in dating. There’s a cute boy in your English class called Choi Seungcheol that you like to look at. He’s got a nice smile and really long eyelashes over eyes that look like they hold galaxies in them. One time, he lent you his dictionary and you almost melted into a puddle of goo. But Seungcheol runs with the popular kids, even though he’s always been sweet to you, and you’re still somewhat of a recluse. All of a sudden, Taehyung seems really grown up and faraway.

“She already knows,” Taehyung says testily, and gestures wildly at you, “Plus it’s not like the two of us are even remotely close enough for her to care too much.”

You find you’ve suddenly lost all interest in the card game.

-2012-

“Can’t believe you’re leaving us,” Jungkook pouts as he stares at you and Taehyung. “Can’t believe I only have Jimin from now on.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Jimin quips. It’s your graduation party – the third graduation party you’ve attended in the last two weeks – Taehyung had his first, then Jimin, and now you. You’ve chosen a university that’s three hours away. Jimin chose to attend college in town.

Taehyung, surprising you all, is moving a whopping six hours away, across the country. The art program he’s chosen is super elite and you’d all had a potluck at his house with your families when he’d gotten accepted. You sip on your wine, still getting used to the taste of alcohol. You turned eighteen only last month, but Jimin and Taehyung are still minors, and are both sporting matching cups of sparkling apple juice.

“We’ll be back for the holidays,” you tell Jungkook. “I can even drive back on some weekends!”

“Yeah, but when our families hang out, I’ll be the only one there,” Jungkook continues, looking genuinely upset. “Gonna just stay home from now on.”

“What about me?” Jimin asks indignantly. “I’m still here!”

“You have, like, a billion friends,” Jungkook huffs. “And a girlfriend.”

“Good point.” Jimin agrees. You and Taehyung laugh.

“Well, we still have all summer,” you say. “The four of us should find some time to hang out before I move at the end of August.” Jimin nods at that, reaching forward to eat the chips off the plate in front of him.

The four of you look at each other. Your lives really don’t overlap outside the confines of your bedroom and while Jungkook is upset, you know he’s got his own horde of friends back at school. He’s on the football team, and in the multimedia club. Your best friend’s little sister goes to his school and you’ve heard through her that he’s basically the school’s heartthrob. A little hard for you to believe though – Jungkook will always be that small child who Taehyung tackled to the ground for trying to steal his phone back when you were twelve.

You look around your room. You only have around ninety days left in these four walls, in this particular life, before all of you move into the next chapter.

-2013-

You’re shut up in a bathroom stall at your dorm, tears threatening to spill. Your first year as an engineering undergraduate is almost over, but your mother’s voice over the phone has opened all the flood gates you’d been so carefully keeping close these past few months.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you’re bumbling, and your mother can hardly make sense of you. You know that it’s probably coming as a huge surprise to them. You’ve spent so long pretending you’ve been fine all year that your family hasn’t had a clue how rough things really had been for you. “I want to drop out, mom, my grades are so bad, I’m so close to flunking out.”

Your mother is comforting you over the phone, but you continue to sob, months and months of tears and anxiety finally getting their chance to flow freely. You don’t care if your dormmates hear you – they were never really your friends anyway.

Weeks later, when your parents have picked you up, and have driven you back home, you know you’ll never go back to that place. You lie in your bed staring up at the ceiling, feeling void of any emotion. You’d always done fairly well in school so the significant drop in your grades at university had taken a toll on your mental health. The sun shines outside, the first signs of summer peeking through, but you can’t bring yourself to push open your curtains. You feel like a failure. You are a failure.

At some point during the day, Taehyung comes into your room, knocking quietly. He doesn’t speak, and you haven’t seen him for a whole year. Contact was few and far between and seeing Jimin and Tae do so well in their respective programs had made you put up a front with them too. He probably had no idea that anything was ever wrong.

Even if he had, you tell yourself, there was nothing he would really do. You find you barely know Taehyung, are only obligated to spend time with him because your parents are friends with his folks. But he’s here, in your room now, and you can’t hear Mr. Kim’s booming voice downstairs. You selfishly wonder if he came to see you by himself. Only for you, and not because of his parents.

He quietly lies down next to you, and the two of you lie there, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the ceiling.

He stays like that until you finally fall asleep.

-2014-

You scream when you open the mail and Jimin jumps next to you, spilling milk all over the kitchen island.

“I got in!” you scream and Jimin blinks owlishly up at you. “Chim, I got in!”

“Oh my god that’s amazing!” Now Jimin is screaming, grabbing you out of joy and pulling you in. The two of you are jumping up and down in your kitchen and your parents are here wondering what the ruckus is. You’re merely shoving the letter towards them, too overjoyed to speak.

After taking the summer off, and pulling out of your old university, you’d applied to the college in your town – the same one Jimin attends. You figured you were better off in a program that genuinely excites you and come September, you and Jimin would be attending the same school.

“We gotta party,” your dad exclaims, a big grin on his face. You know your parents had partially blamed themselves for everything that had happened last year. For maybe forcing you towards a program you weren’t really interested in, only because the employment opportunities were higher, and you had the grades to get in. You’re pleased to see them so proud and happy for you. You’re in a better place now, have gotten the support you needed to help you get through that rough patch. Last year feels like a fever dream, like it belongs to someone else, someone that’s not you.

Your dad is calling the usual crowd up to celebrate, and you can’t wait to see Jungkook and Junghyun. It’s been months since you saw them last and you know Jungkook is a senior and is swamped with college admissions and his football games.

Taehyung doesn’t come home this year – working at an internship somewhere on the other end of the country that’s been keeping him busy. You don’t hear from him much at all.

-2015-

You gratefully accept the glass of wine from Jimin and glance over at the giant Christmas tree in his living room. The Parks have decorated it up to the nines, a real step-up from last year.

“Your ugly sweater is so not ugly,” Jimin groans from next to you, and you look down. It’s a simple grey sweater with a giant ornament on it, the baubles are three-dimensional.

“It was the only one I had,” you sigh, leaning back into his couch. “Where is everyone?”

“Jungkook is spending Christmas at his girlfriend’s,” Jimin tells you and you roll your eyes. “But he says he’ll see us for New Years. Tae’s family just arrived actually – he’s in the kitchen saying hello to everyone.”

“Bet all the moms flocked to him,” you mutter. Taehyung is the group’s golden boy – the success story. He’d secured himself a fancy internship and was pretty much guaranteed a job straight out of university when he graduated in a couple years. Jimin nods sleepily next to you. You cozy up next to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Taehyung arrives in the living room then, his eyes travelling from the giant Christmas tree to the two of you folded onto the couch. You wonder if you’ve had too much wine already because you’re definitely imagining the strange look that crosses his face when he sees Jimin lean into you. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him in person – Instagram pictures really don’t do him justice. For some reason, Jimin quickly pulls away from your embrace.

He’s grown taller, and his hair is dyed a soft honey blonde falling into his eyes, a piece tucked behind one ear. He’s wearing a sweater that’s literally the same color as the Grinch but he manages to effortlessly pull it off. Taehyung has always been pretty, you tell yourself, but somehow, he’s managed to get even prettier. He’s half-tucked his ugly sweater into black slacks and looks more like a runway model than someone you’ve known since you were twelve.

He fist-bumps Jimin before collapsing into the couch on your other side.

“What’s the plan tonight Park?” he asks, taking a sip of his wine.

“I brought my poker kit,” Jimin says over your head. “Thought we could play.”

“Poker,” you sigh amusedly. “When only yesterday Jungkook was beating our asses at Uno.” Jimin laughs with his whole body and you giggle sleepily next to him.

“And, how are you?” It takes you a while to notice that Taehyung is talking to you. You straighten up, letting go of Jimin

“M’fine,” you murmur. Taehyung hums. There’s a strange sort of silence that befalls you. You and Taehyung never had a chatty relationship, but it was never like this either. Taehyung feels more and more like a stranger these days. You know facts about his childhood that you’re sure no one else does – the time he broke his arm falling off a bike you had dared him to get on, or the time he’d accidentally eaten a cookie with hazelnuts in it despite being allergic to them – but you don’t know this Taehyung. You don’t know the first thing about him. And it makes you sad.

The two of you make small talk – the weather, Taehyung’s internship, your finals – but it just doesn’t feel the same.

-2016-

It’s really been a whole year since you’ve seen any of these people – except Jimin, you see his ass on campus every damn day. The music is in full swing and your parents are laughing at something Taehyung’s mom is saying.

You’re sitting in a chair next to Jungkook, fresh off his first semester of university. His hair is longer, he’s inked up his right arm and smells like expensive cologne. Despite that, he’s still the lovable goofball you’ve known practically all your life. He lets you tease him about his ink, good-naturedly pulling at your cheek. He towers over you now, has for a few years.

Taehyung sits directly across from you. His hair is back to black, curling and long. He’s wearing thick black-framed glasses today, complaining about leaving his contacts back at university. Jimin isn’t here, having made plans with his dancer friends. It feels like every year, the only constant at these end-of-the-year parties, is you. The only one who makes a conscious effort to attend, who doesn’t treat these family gatherings like back-up plans.

“Jieun said she wants to meet you,” Jungkook is saying. He’s been dating this girl for six months now. “She’s gone home for the holidays, obviously, but maybe in the New Year. When do you go back Tae?”

“The twelfth,” Taehyung answers, mouth full of mashed potato.

“That’s later than usual,” you say in surprise. Taehyung shrugs.

“Didn’t come home for the summer, so figured I’d stay for winter break longer,” he answers, and you nod. You’re still on the “kids” end of the table, despite all of you now being full-grown adults. Some things really never change.

“Y’know we really should hang out,” Jungkook is saying. “I haven’t seen Jimin in two years – isn’t that crazy? Hey, remember when our parents would hang out and drag us with them. At least that meant we saw each other constantly. Now that we have our own lives, I don’t even go when our families hang out.”

You ruffle Jungkook’s hair and he gives you an adoring smile.

“I miss you guys,” he pouts, and something warm floods through you.

“I miss you guys too,” you answer, a little melancholy, a little sad, and Jungkook gives you a dopey grin, completely clueless. But Taehyung doesn’t return your smile, only surveying you quietly through his glasses.

-2017-

Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung said they weren’t going to attend this year’s annual New Year’s bash. You can’t say you aren’t crestfallen at the news. It’s clear they all have lives outside their family. Taehyung and Jimin have graduated already. Taehyung doesn’t have enough time off to come home, and Jimin has plans with some guy he’s been seeing lately. Jungkook is going home with Jieun this year to meet her family.

You make plans with your friends from college, and the four of you end up at a bar. It’s fun – you sing karaoke and drink copious amounts of alcohol. You even makeout with strangers.

But somewhere deep down, you know you rather be sitting at the kids end of the table, stuffing your face with food.

-2018-

Taehyung hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you walked into his house. You’re wearing a dress and some heels because Jimin insisted that the four of you dress up for the occasion, considering you hadn’t been able to get together last year. It’s been a while since the gang was back in town at the same time, and you’d just graduated and secured a decent job right away. Jimin claimed it was a cause to celebrate.

The four of you are at the usual family party this winter, because where else would you be?

Taehyung is very obviously drunk. He isn’t rowdy like Jimin or Jungkook, but you can tell. He sways faintly to the music and his eyes are dark.

At the end of the night Jimin goes home to his boyfriend, and Jungkook to his girlfriend, leaving you and Taehyung to clean up the messes they leave behind. Your parents have long gone home, no longer caring if you stay a little longer, or stay over. Taehyung’s family is practically your family.

You eye him subtly as you’re putting away the board games – his hands are in the pockets of his burgundy trousers. A cream dress shirt is tucked into his pants. As always, he looks good. Taehyung suddenly turns to look at you and you feel your face go warm at his stare.

Before you know it, he’s reaching over to kiss you, large hand cupping your face, head tilting so he can slot himself better against your lips. Your hand grasps at the front of his shirt as you pull him closer and you don’t hesitate to intertwine your free hands.

He wordlessly pulls you towards his bedroom in the basement, careful not to wake his parents. He pushes you down on his bed before climbing on top of you to continue where you’d left off in the living room.

That night, you fall asleep in his arms, naked and satisfied.

-2019-

Kim Seokjin whispers in a terrible joke in your ear, making you giggle. He’s your date for the night – but the two of you aren’t actually dating. Seokjin was a friend from college, albeit your senior, but you’d asked him to accompany you to this year’s New Year’s party and by some miracle he’d said yes.

You know Jin doesn’t think about you in that way – you’re at most like a baby sister to him – but he plays his part and holds your hand and sits next to you and brings you refills whenever he sees your drink is running low. A part of you thinks he knows what the deal is, if the soft way he looks at you is any indication. You owe Jin a big one.

You didn’t want to be the only one in the group without a date. Jimin has brought Min Yoongi, his boyfriend of two years and Jieun is here with Jungkook.

And then there’s the pretty girl on Taehyung’s arm.

You bite your lip. After spending that one night together last year, you and Taehyung had woken up with smiles on your faces. It had been a happy moment, until you’d had to sneak out of his house without his parents noticing. He’d laughed, kissed you on the lips and you’d left. When you’d seen him next, you’d been with Jimin, Jungkook, and all your families. The two of you had shared secret smiles but hadn’t got a moment to yourselves and before you knew it, Taehyung had had to head back across the country – back to his life without you in it.

You hadn’t even gotten a chance to discuss whatever had happened between you, and you didn’t think it would be appropriate to discuss over the phone. You’d carried on talking to him like normal, assuming that you’d discuss this whenever he came back home next, and he never brought it up either. You hadn’t realized then that Taehyung only ever came home once a year – for Christmas.

Your heart sinks now, watching as he leans in quietly to talk to her over the loud bass of whatever rap beat Yoongi has chosen. You hadn’t told anyone, not even your college friends, about what had happened. You feel used – that whatever the two of you had, was maybe just a drunken one-night stand. But it hadn’t felt like that to you. It had felt… right. Like the conclusion to something that had been building up for many years now. But looking back, maybe it’s just you that thinks that.

Taehyung has never shown any interest in you in that manner, and you’ve known him for years. He’s dated in that time – even had relationships (Jooyoung from high school comes to mind, and you rack your brain trying to think of other serious girlfriends, but you only come up with girls he’s mentioned once or twice and then never again). Jimin already lives with Yoongi and Jungkook and Jieun are discussing moving in together. In your little group, only you and Taehyung have no strings when it comes to relationships.

You’ve dated too – of course – but never seriously. Your longest relationship lasted three months.

“Is he the one?” Seokjin leans over to ask you in a low voice. You turn to look at him nestled comfortably on the couch next to you, long limbs spread out. “The one you like?”

“Like...huh?” you take a large gulp of your wine. “I’ve never thought about him that way.”

“Then pray tell me why your face has longing written all over it?” Seokjin is astute.

“Thanks for coming today,” you say instead. Jin smiles lazily, long lashes casting shadows on his elegant cheekbones.

“I’ll even peck you on the lips at midnight if you want me to,” he says cheekily, and you slap his face away laughing.

“Aren’t you two adorable!” Jimin collapses on the couch next to Jin and offers him a friendly fist bump. Jimin knows Jin isn’t your boyfriend but is smart enough to not say anything.

“Are we?” Jin grins, throwing his arm around your neck to pull you towards him, your cheeks smushing together. “You hear that babe?”

“Oof,” you groan against him and he lets go of you to stand up. Motioning towards the bathroom, he flashes one of his infamous grins before making his way through the living room. Jimin slides over towards you, neatly taking your drink from your hand before taking a sip.

“Where’s Yoongi?”

“His parents called, he’s talking to them out on the deck,” Jimin looks at you. You look at him and raise your eyebrows. “You okay?”

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“I dunno, you always get this look on your face when you’re not,” he hums, sipping your wine again. “How long do you think I’ve known you?” You roll your eyes. You’re eyeing Taehyung again. He came to the party late and hadn’t as much as introduced his lady friend to you. He hadn’t even looked at you. Was this how your friendship with Taehyung was going to end?

“Who’s the girl?” you can’t help but ask, jutting your chin in the direction of the pair. A knowing look crosses Jimin’s features.

“Yoona something,” he says. “They work together, I think. Her flight home got cancelled so Tae brought her back here.” Jimin looks at you again. “They’re not dating – if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Fucking, then.”

“Well, probably,” Jimin laughs. “It’s Taehyung,” Of course. It’s Taehyung. You huff sarcastically. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

“You do,” You groan. What is with your friends today. “When will you admit it to yourself?”

“Admit what?”

Jimin gives out a short laugh and stands up.

“You’re both so painfully alike, I’m going to get frustrated,” he mutters, half under his breath. You tilt your head curiously at his wording, but he doesn’t elaborate. “One is horrible with making a move and the other too dense to realize what’s staring at them in their face.” You watch Jimin head off, muttering to himself and shake your head.

When Jin returns with another bad joke about the toilet and pinches your cheek adoringly, taking up his spot next to you on the couch, you’re far too busy laughing to notice the way Taehyung’s eyes flash across the room.

-The Present-

“Tae’s coming home this year, isn’t he?” you mother casually asks. You’re in the middle of putting the cakes in the oven and you pause.

“Is he? I haven’t asked,” you answer, schooling your voice carefully.

“His mother mentioned that he doesn’t seem too happy lately,” you mom continues on from the other end of the kitchen. “They want him to move back here, or somewhere closer to here.”

“Good luck with that,” you snort. There’s three feet of snow that arrived last night and you’re not looking forward to shoveling it all by yourself. You haven’t seen Taehyung properly since the two of you had… fooled around some two years ago. Whatever idea you’d entertained about the two of you after that, it had all just been clearly in your head. Taehyung was barely home long enough for you to hang out as a group and if the rumors amongst the parents were anything to go by, you weren’t surprised he wanted to avoid the gossiping small town feel of this place.

Frankly, you’re dreading seeing Taehyung this year. This year’s party is definitely more exclusive than last year’s. It’ll just be the four of you this year. Like the old days. And Jieun and Yoongi, but you’ve known those two for years now.

“He’s such a good-looking boy,” Oh god, your mother is still talking. “I’m surprised he hasn’t thought about settling down yet. Of course, how can he think about settling down without a stable career first – freelance photography was it?”

“Mom, it’s none of our business,” you mutter.

“Oh, I know,” she says quickly. “But I’d always thought he’d go places, you know? He did so well at one of the country’s best universities, got that amazing job right after. And now what? He quit it after all this time and that Jimin who only did community college is earning twice the amount Tae is!”

“Mom!” you snap. “Let. It. Go.” Your mother stares at you in disbelief, closing her mouth quickly, and thankfully shutting up. “I’m gonna go shovel the driveway,” you mutter, taking your apron off, and shoving it onto its usual hook by the pantry.

You’re just opening up the garage and grabbing the big purple shovel when you see Jungkook floundering through the snow towards your house.

“When did you get home?” You ask, forgetting about your mother for a second.

“Two days ago—look,” Jungkook’s face is serious. “We need to throw Taehyung a totally bitchin’ birthday party.”

“What?! Why?” You begin shoveling while Jungkook stands there. You’ve never thrown Taehyung a party before – usually that goes hand in hand with the annual New Year’s Eve bash and the two are celebrated together, even though Tae’s birthday is the day before.

“Because he’s been weird ever since he came home – he never says anything, but I know, alright?”

“What? He’s back?” You stop shoveling and stare at the younger man.

“He didn’t tell you?” Jungkook asks, after hesitating. You bite your lip. You’ve always been the first to know whenever Taehyung decides to visit. “Is everything okay?” You sigh.

“Yes… I don’t know… probably not,” you groan. Jungkook blinks down at you, utterly clueless. “We…fooled around, alright?”

“When?!” Jungkook’s voice has gone up three octaves. “Oh, holy fuck.”

“Two years ago,” you hiss, motioning him to pipe down. “After that party at his house. We never spoke about it and I just assumed he wanted an easy fuck.”

“You’re an idiot,” Jungkook says and you wonder at his wording. “A blind idiot.”

“What?” you’re so confused. Jimin had mumbled something similar last year. Jungkook shakes his head, bits of snow falling off his beanie.

“Aside from that, I think the dude is just going through an overall rough time,” he says. “And no, it’s not because you two fucked. You in?”

“What—yeah fine,” you give in.

“Cool – then my house on the 30th. Bring your own booze. Wear something cute but comfortable.”

“Who else is coming?” You yell after him, watching Jungkook shuffling back down the street. He turns to look at you questioningly.

“It’s just us,” he says, surprise evident in his voice. “Who else?”

“Right.” You say, sighing inwardly.

That night, you run straight into Taehyung outside Jungkook’s door.

“Uh,” you say, wincing at yourself for sounding so horribly awkward. Taehyung stands in front of you, readying himself to knock on. You’d hoped to avoid him for a little bit longer but here you were, running into him right as you arrive. You grip your bottle of Merlot tightly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says back, raising an eyebrow at you. Taehyung is intimidating – has always been. You vaguely remember a time when he didn’t scare you, when you were both young and Taehyung was this small scrawny kid with big eyes and a mop of hair. “How’ve you been?” He towers over you now, all broad shoulders and long legs.

“Good,” you clear your throat. “You?” A ghost of a smile flits across his features.

“I’m sure you’ve already heard,” he says, almost bitterly.

“That you quit your fancy job? Yeah, I heard.” Maybe it’s your offhanded tone that throws him off but he’s gawking down at you before chuckling to himself. “What?”

“Nothing,” his face breaks into a bigger smile. “Should’ve known that you of all people wouldn’t give a shit if I quit my job or not,” You’re rushing to correct him that that was not how you intended to come off but he’s grinning, raising a hand to stop you. “No, it’s a good thing. I’m sick of people pitying me for something that was so obviously the correct decision.”

“Pity, huh?” you grin back at that. “Do they give you the sad head-tilt too?” You tilt your head mockingly to the side to demonstrate.

“Oh my god yes,” he snorts. “I’ve been getting those all week.”

“Welcome to the world of failures Kim,” you grin, holding out your hand in an honorary handshake. “We hate it here, but at least the expectations are now at a rock bottom. You can only go up from here.” Taehyung is about to reach for your hand when the door opens.

“Can you two quit flirting out here and come in?” Jungkook is indignant, holding a bottle of beer in each hand. Taehyung gives you a look you can’t quite decipher before heading in. You follow in after him, setting your wine down on Jungkook’s kitchen island. His apartment is small – only one bedroom – but it’s so Jungkook that you smile.

You hug Jieun as she comes out of their shared bedroom before moving on to join Jimin in the kitchen. Jieun is hugging Taehyung, wishing him a Happy Birthday. You watch them as you open your wine and reach for a glass from one of Jungkook’s cabinets.

“Not drinking tonight?” you ask Jimin. He’s dyed his hair blonde and it curls slightly. You think you like this look on him.

“I drove here,” he says easily. “What about you?”

“I’ll figure it out,” you grin. Taehyung comes up to dump the cheesecake you hadn’t noticed he’d been holding earlier on the counter. “Want me to put that in the fridge?” You address him.

“Yes please,”

“Not drinking tonight Tae?” Jimin throws your question at the dark-haired boy, as you shove the cake into Jungkook’s fridge. Taehyung’s eyes quickly glance at you before he speaks up

“I drove here,” he mutters and Jimin snorts.

“It’s your birthday party and you’re gonna stay stone cold sober? That’s sad man. Not to mention you brought your own cake,” he says, chin resting on his hand as he leans on the counter. Taehyung shrugs.

“Where’s Yoongi?” you ask and Jimin motions towards the living room where Jungkook and Yoongi are deeply immersed in what looks like Super Smash Bros Brawl. Judging by the way Yoongi is yelling, you assume he’s already tipsy. Taehyung comes up behind the counter to stand next to you to observe their game. You’re only faintly wary of his presence next to you as you sip on your drink. You don’t even realize Jimin has left the two of you to yourselves to go join Yoongi and Jungkook.

“Why’d you quit?” you ask, still staring at the TV. If Taehyung is surprised at your question, he doesn’t show it. “Your job, I mean.”

“It’s not what I went to school for,” he answers, hands in his pockets. “It became less about the art and more about kissing the asses of big corporations so they would fund us. I took the job because it paid well but at what cost?”

“Yeah, I understand,” you say softly. Taehyung looks at you.

“I know you do,” He says after a while, and your heart blooms at the honest faith in his voice. “My parents are disappointed. They don’t say it out loud, but I know they are. They think I’m going through something when the truth is that I know exactly what I want to do.”

“And that is?” you’re looking at him now and things suddenly fall into place. It’s as though the last few years never happened, that there was never a distance between the two of you. It reminds you of a different time – a time when you and Taehyung would tell each other everything even if you didn’t see him every day.

“Photography,” he answers. “My own studio. Maybe even sell my work – I don’t know. Just me, and art.” You smile.

“That sounds nice,” you say. “You know, Jungkook threw this party thinking you’re going through a quarter-life crisis,” Taehyung snorts at that and you can’t help but giggle along. “I wanted to tell him that he was crazy, but I didn’t have the heart to.” Taehyung is looking at you, questions evident on his face. “Call me crazy, I don’t know, but there has never been a day where you’ve been lost in your life. You’ve always known what you want, and you’ve made sure you get it,” You look down at your wine. The words unlike me are at the tip of your tongue but you don’t voice them. You know what—who you want, but you’re a coward.

You weren’t lying. Taehyung had always been ambitious – a go-getter. If he wanted you, he would’ve made it clear. The realization is heart-breaking.

Taehyung doesn’t reply to your statement, and only hums in response.

The night gets rowdier after that – Jungkook and Yoongi are a deadly combination when drunk and you’ve made it through your bottle of wine by yourself so you’re not doing too badly either.

Jimin and Yoongi leave first – Jimin basically dragging the older boy out. You’re scrolling through the train schedule when you notice Taehyung come up to you.

“I’ll drop you off,” he says. “You’re on the way to my parents house anyway.” You can only nod at that before he’s helping you stand up. The two of you bid a goodbye to Jieun (Jungkook has long since been put to bed and she’s collecting the myriad of beer bottles for recycling), and before you know it, you’re comfortably seated in Taehyung’s car.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to your place,” he says at last, sounding only slightly guilty. You laugh and tell him your address and watch as he plugs it into the car’s GPS system. You had moved out only last year, finally in a place to be able to afford. The two of you drive in silence, with you watching Taehyung.

He’s wearing a dark button down, tucked into equally dark jeans, hair falling over his forehead. Rings adorn his fingers that are gripping the steering wheel, and you swallow as you eye his thighs in those pants.

The wine was a bad idea.

“Something on my face?” he asks lightly, eyes still on the road. You start in your seat. The wine has lowered your inhibitions considerably.

“No, just admiring how pretty you are,” you say and Taehyung chokes on air. “Did you know you’re pretty? You always have been,”

“Is that so?” There’s a wry smile on Taehyung’s face. You prop your elbow up on his window, chin resting in your hand as you look outside.

“Yeah, since the fucking beginning,” you snort. “Even when you were scrawny and twelve, you were this pretty little thing. Next to you I looked like a drowned rat.”

Taehyung scoffs, running one hand through his hair, pushing it back.

“The day you wake up and realize your self-worth,” he mutters. “You’re far too intelligent and beautiful to belittle yourself like this,” You freeze and turn to look at him. “What? I’m telling you a truth. Stop undermining yourself – you’ve done it all your life.”

“Do you want me to pull up photos from that one trip our families took in 2010? Your puberty kicked in and turned you into a teenage model. My puberty kicked in and I looked like Phineas and Ferb’s long lost sibling.”

“Chat shit all you want, but Jungkook and I spent that trip sneaking glances of you in that bathing suit.”

“You two did what?”

“And I told Jungkook to back off,” Taehyung says it so easily. He pulls up in front of your building and turns off the car. The two of you sit there in silence. “Do you know how hard it is for me to control myself around you?”

You’re dimly aware that Taehyung hasn’t had a single sip of alcohol tonight – that he’s completely himself.

“Then why are you controlling yourself?” you whisper. Taehyung gives you another one of his wry smiles, this one rather sad.

“Because you’ve never seen me the way I’ve seen you,” he says, voice just as hushed. “And for a while, I didn’t mind. It was just a little crush – and I only saw you once or twice in a year so how could it mean anything? I had an entire life outside of you that you weren’t even a part of. So how could any of this be real?” He pauses, and you wait for him to continue.

“But then… That Night happened,” and you know what he’s talking about. “And I thought ‘finally’ and once I’d had a taste, I wanted to keep coming back for more.” He looks up at you now, eyes distant. “And because you never brought it up again, I just thought that it didn’t mean anything—”

“Wait,” you interrupt him, heart racing so fast you can hear it thrum through your ears. “I thought you wanted nothing more.”

“Why would you ever think that?” he whispers. “When I never heard from you, I tried to move on—I had to move on, y’know? And this year I told myself that when I saw you, I’d be content with being your friend. I know I’ve been distant these past few years, but I needed that time to pick myself up—it was too hard to see you and know nothing could come of it.”

“Wait wait wait,” you wave your hands in front of your face, eyes tightly shut. “B-but you never mentioned that night again! I-I just assumed it was a one-night thing!” Taehyung blinks.

“A guy would have to be completely blind to only want you for one night,” he says quietly, and your heart soars. He’s reaching over for you and you shyly intertwine your fingers with his.

“You’re going to have to spell it out for me,” you whisper, tracing patterns on the back of his hand with your thumb. “Because I’m stupid and I won’t believe it until I’ve heard it—”

But Taehyung is reaching over to your seat and pressing his lips to yours. You’ve missed this taste and you reciprocate almost instantly. He tastes like the strawberries that were topped on his birthday cake and you lean into the kiss, sighing in pleasure.

Before you know it, he’s undoing your seatbelt and pulling you over to his side. It’s uncomfortable and you almost ram your head against the rear-view mirror, but eventually you find yourself comfortably straddling his lap, back to the steering wheel. Taehyung’s large hands span the width of your back as he holds you in place.

“I think I like you,” he says. You smile down at him, running a hand along his cheekbone, jaw, finally resting it on his shoulder.

“I think I like you too,” you say back. You lean down to capture his lips in yours one more time and this time he doesn’t hesitate in sliding his tongue into your mouth. You grasp at his shirt on his shoulders, while his hands travel down to rest on your thighs where they travel under the flowy dress you’re wearing, moving over your thighs and finally resting on your ass. You whimper into the kiss and Taehyung doesn’t miss the opportunity to explore more of your mouth.

It’s when you let yourself sit down on his lap completely that you feel it – the hardness in his pants. You gasp before straightening up, but he pushes you back down onto his crotch. You pull away from the kiss, lips swollen.

“T-Tae!” you’re gripping his shirt almost painfully right and he smirks up at you.

“See what you do to me?” he whispers. “We’ve barely done anything except swap spit and I’m already so hard it hurts.” Your ears go warm at his dirty words and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. You squirm on top of him and he groans in pleasure. “Any more of you moving that cute little ass on top of me and I’m going to cream my pants right here and right now.”

His lips latch onto your exposed collarbone where the strap of your dress has slid off and he sucks a bruise there. Your hips are swirling on top of him of their own volition and Taehyung has to throw back his head to let out a deep moan of pleasure. You stare at him in wonder – he looks so beautiful like this, dark hair clinging to his forehead, eyes blown out, lips swollen – and at your complete mercy. You kiss up his neck, biting his earlobe, before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“I’m soaked,” you say, blushing. Your hand reaches down to tease your clit and you whimper before bringing your slick fingers up to show him. “See?”

Like a man starved, Taehyung is wordlessly reaching over to take your fingers into his mouth, and you watch in awe as his tongue swirls around them, licking up your juices instantly. His gaze doesn’t leave you for even a second and you’re so mesmerized. When you kiss him again, you taste yourself on him.

“You’re gonna have to stop here,” he puts a hand on your thigh to halt your ministrations. “I’ll seriously cream my pants.”

“I’m okay with that,” you mutter, leaning in to kiss him again, but he pulls back, a sly smile on his face.

“No, I’d much rather cream your pussy,” his grin is so wolfish that you feel a new wave of juices flow through you.

“Lucky for us we’re at my place though isn’t it,” you smile against his mouth. He laughs, a low, comforting sound before opening the door. You climb off him and out onto the sidewalk and straighten your dress. Taehyung gets off after you, hair mussed (thanks to you), and shirt half unbuttoned (also thanks to you). He reaches for your hand, which you take with a smile. This time, there is no hesitation, no hidden meaning.

-Sometime in the (not-so) distant future-

“Will you hurry up?” You hiss at Jungkook, but he’s too busy brushing his hair to pay any attention to you. “We’re so gonna be late!”

“You’re trampling on my mojo,” Jungkook tells you, straightening his tie and staring at himself in the mirror. Taehyung is next to you, tapping his foot in impatience.

“Okay, Jeon, that’s enough, you are not going to be late for your own wedding.” He says, face impassive and Jungkook sighs.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll be right out – you two go take your positions. Tae – you got the rings?” Taehyung rolls his eyes and pats his front coat pocket pointedly. Jungkook grins, face guilty and Taehyung is opening his mouth, probably to tell Jungkook off once and for all.

You laugh, knowing this is your cue to interrupt the fight before it actually happens, and pull Taehyung away from his best friend and push him out of Jungkook’s dressing room.

“Let’s go – if he’s late that’s on him but I don’t want us to be late either and you’re in the wedding you need to be up there.” You push Taehyung towards the main church towards the altar.

“God,” Taehyung is grumbling. “Promise me, our day won’t be so anxiety inducing.”

“How can it be when you’re such a micromanager,” you smile. “I expect our day to run like a German train schedule.” Taehyung rolls his eyes and glances at a dainty ring on your left hand. He does that often, as if to reassure himself that this is the reality, that you’re here and present and beside him. It makes you unbearably fond. Because even now, years later, Kim Taehyung still can’t believe he has you.

“Honestly, we could do it at city hall and I wouldn’t mind,” Taehyung hums. “Without all these clowns present.”

“Fine,” you play along. “Wanna go this weekend?” You’re not expecting the raised eyebrow he gives you, or the coy answer that follows – but it does make your heart race in a way only Kim Taehyung has ever been capable of.

#kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #kim taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung #tae #bts v #bts #bts fic

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kiirokero · 4 years ago

Text

Emacity (PJM)

Emacity: The desire or fondness of buying

Part of the “Protect the Village!” Oneshot Series!

Masterlist

Pairing: DeliveryBoy!Jimin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Romance, mutual pining (kinda)

Note: April will be my hibernation month lol

Summary: Whoever invented online shopping? A genius. Whoever hired Park Jimin to be the town’s delivery boy? An even bigger genius.

Word Count: 2.2k

You wouldn’t call yourself a shopaholic. It’s not like you had an addiction to the point of needing an intervention. You knew what was a dumb purchase and what was a personal purchase. You actively searched high and low for coupons and discounts. You never bought something that you knew would end up in the garbage after one use. You were a responsible shopper. But shopping was like a hobby.

You were lucky enough to have the money to spoil yourself. You worked a well-paying job as a translator for businesses that are trying to branch out to new countries while also offering online language classes to international students. Switching between Korean, English, Spanish, AND French usually gave you a headache. And trying to translate a word that didn’t really exist in other languages was exhausting, but it paid well.

And it gave you opportunities to see Jimin.

Park Jimin, Bangtan Village’s delivery boy. Worked at the post office seemingly 24/7 and is always voted employee of the month. Has a smile that’s permanently painted on his face and is as kind as a saint. What’s not to love about him? Besides that fact that his eyes sparkle with the same elegance as polished amber. Or the fact that his skin is perfectly smooth. Or that he emits an aura of confidence and stability.

Not that you know, but you can feel it. You and Jimin exchanged few words on the occasions when you get to see him. Simple, “Hey! How are you?” ’s and “Long time no see!” ‘s. But each word that reaches your ears are pieces of gold to you. You and Jimin didn’t really know each other, but you’d like to say that if you waved to him out in town, he’d wave back.

Your friend, Namjoon, liked to call you a lovesick idiot. Whenever you gushed to him about how Jimin smiled at you, he’d shake his head and say, “You’re a hopeless romantic and it’s tiring to me,” And today was like no other.

“I’m telling you, Namjoon! He has the cutest smile,” You sighed, watching your best friend work on his current project, Yoongi’s car. “I know, you’ve told me several times before,” He groaned, lifting his head from the machinery under the hood and looking at you with an unimpressed look. Absentmindedly wiping off his oily hands on his black stained hand towel.

“Why don’t you just talk to the dude? You know several languages yet you can’t communicate to a boy who speaks your native language?” He pointed out, leaning his hip up against the black car. “I may be able to chew you out in French, but I don’t speak ‘extrovert’” You argued back, a sly smirk on your face.

Namjoon rolled his eyes with a small smile, “You’re impossible,” He chuckled, “But you really should talk to him. You never know~ He may think you’re cute too~” He teased, dodging the spare hand towel you threw at him. “Stop teasing!” You whined, “You know I can’t, I’ll make a fool of myself and end up confessing to him in Spanish or something,” You groaned, slumping in your seat.

Namjoon tilted his head in confusion, “How do you accidentally switch to a whole other language,” He asked. “Trust me... It’s happened before...” You cringed, shivering at the less-than flattering memory. “Well... Maybe you should express it non-verbally?” He suggested, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as he went back to tampering with Yoongi’s car.

“I appreciate your advice, Joon, but I don’t think I can even work up the courage to confess, verbally or not.” You sighed, giving Namjoon a somber look to which he responded with a comforting smile. Namjoon went back to work and you checked the time on your phone. 2:22pm.

“Shoot, I gotta go,” You said, standing up and grabbing your bag. “Why? I thought you didn’t teach on Wednesdays?” Namjoon asked, still working on the car. “I don’t but, I’m expecting a package,” You smiled to yourself. “You memorized when Jimin comes to deliver your packages? That’s kinda creepy Y/n,” Namjoon insinuated, squinting his eyes at you.

You gasped, “Is not! I’ve just noticed that he always comes around 3pm... and I want to be there when my new keyboard comes.” You crossed your arms in defence. “Mhmm, go on then,” Namjoon chuckled, and you stomped your way out of his workshop back to your house.

You wait anxiously for a knock on your door. You sit on the couch, fiddling with the blanket that was draped over your lap. If you were being honest with yourself, you were more excited about seeing Jimin than getting your new peach-pink keyboard to complete your soft pastel desk setup.

You knew Namjoon was right about you being a lovesick idiot; you were in deep, and you haven’t even hung out with the man! You scoffed to yourself, shaking your head at the way his smile made your heart rate pick up and palms clammy. Maybe you could take Namjoon’s advice and invite him on a date. Not necessarily come completely clean and admit you were head over heels, but ease your way in instead.

Only problem is, you didn’t quite know how to do that...

The long awaited knock finally sounded through your tiny house, and you stood up quicker than you should as blood rushed to your head, making you feel dizzy. Shaking it off, you go over to your door, opening it to reveal the very man you’ve been wanting to see all day. “Hey! What’s up Y/n?” Jimin greeted you with a smile, a small brown package under his arm.

“Hi Jimin, I’m doing good... What about you?” You asked, leaning up against the doorway. “I’m good, it’s a nice day out today,” He sighed, handing the package out for you, “Here you go! Your weekly package,” He joked, making you give him a lovesick smile that made you look like the woozy emoji. “T-Thanks,” You chuckled nervously.

�� “No problem,” Jimin said. “Hey um Jimin...” You called before he could walk away. “Yes?” Jimin inquired, raising an eyebrow. Shoot, what do you say? You didn’t think this through you.. You can’t just invite him out like a normal human, what if he says no? “I um- What’s your... favorite food...?” You asked, cringing at how pathetically shy you sounded. Jimin’s eyebrows knit together in confusion and he chuckled. “I like strawberry Pocky’s a lot,” He stressed, licking his lips at the thought.

You nodded, writing that down in your head for later. Maybe you could do something with this. “Cool, cool. Well, um, have a nice day!” You said, walking back into your house, package in hand, leaving Jimin confused and amused. “What a girl...” He whispers to himself, smile, like always, never leaving his face.

You continue to buy little things online just as an excuse to talk to Jimin. Who needs a mini cactus? You, apparently. And that chick plush you saw on Instagram? Boom, it now lives on your bed. Whenever he comes around, you take the opportunity to ask him questions like what his favorite color was or if he was allergic to anything.

You were planning something for him, and he was catching on. Sure, your questions were usually unprompted, but he’d humor you any day of the week. He may not know exactly what you were planning, but all he hoped was that it would change his life forever. And it would.

You were almost done with Jimin’s mini basket of favorites. A blue basket that held his favorite snack foods, stickers from his favorite shows, and some of those chunky rings he likes. Sure, maybe it was a bit excessive. Maybe this was teetering the line of weird and sweet, and you knew that bribing your way into a relationship was definitely not the way to go. But you just wanted to be nice.

Maybe buying things for others was your love language, or maybe Jimin was just worth spoiling. It was probably both. Whatever the real answer was, it didn’t matter to you. You just wanted Jimin to be happy.

Even if meticulously fiddling with the basket made you want to pull your hair out as the bow never looked quite right. Realistically you know it wouldn’t matter in the end and that Jimin would likely take the bow off after he received it, but you still adjusted it until it was perfect.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, Joon,” You sighed as you heard Namjoon hysterically laughing on the other side of the phone. “You’re going to bribe him into going on a date with you?” He asked, out of breath. “No! I just want to be nice,” You bit back, rolling your eyes even if Namjoon couldn’t see you. “Wow, the irony of Jimin delivering the gifts that your going to end up giving back,” Namjoon chuckled, finally calming down.

“Look, I’m just trying to follow your advice,” You whined, finally giving up on the navy blue bow and leaving it be. “True, I was thinking about a banner or something though. Like a cheesy promposal,” Namjoon said, and you could hear the undertones in his words. What he really wanted to say was, “How dramatic could you be? This is too much honey,”

Groaning, you flopped down on your couch, mumbling into the cushions. “I think I’m going to give it to him today, I have another mini cactus coming today,” You said, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness swirl in your stomach at the thought of finally asking the man you’ve been pining over out on a date. “That’s great! He’ll definitely say yes,” Namjoon said excitedly, trying to keep your fragile spirits intact. Knowing that if anything goes wrong, you’ll chicken out immediately.

“Yeah, I can do this,” You smiled, looking at the clock on your oven. “It’s 2:30, I have to go prepare. I’ll call you after!” You said, exchanging your goodbyes with Namjoon and hanging up the phone to go clean yourself up a little bit.

You weren’t terribly worried about your appearance. Jimin had seen you in coffee stained sweats and hoodies. There wasn’t anything worse than that. So you opted for a simple t-shirt and legging combo, washing your face and touching up your hair a bit. “Now to wait,” You whispered to yourself as you sat on the couch with the basket in your lap.

While you waited on the couch for Jimin to arrive, you looked at the mini cactus that sat on your coffee table and chuckled. Usually you bought things that may seem random to an outside person. A mouse that looks like a cat's paw, a throw pillow that doubles as a blanket, random earrings. But never a mini cactus.

After you asked all the questions you could think of and bought everything that you thought Jimin would like, you didn’t have an excuse to keep seeing Jimin. So, like a normal person, you bought little knickknacks. Hence the mini cactus and it’s new friend that’s on the way today.

Knock knock knock

“Well, your new buddy’s here lil’ cactus dude,”

Taking a deep breath, you stood up and walked over to the door, hiding the basket behind your back. “Hello, Y/n,” Jimin smiled as you opened the door for him. “Hey,” You smiled back, tightening your grip on the basket behind you. “Here you go, another odd stationary?” Jimin guessed as he held out the package for you and you took it with one hand, placing it down behind the door.

“I guess you could say that,” You chuckled, nervously shifting on your feet. “Speaking of... I have something for you,” You mumbled, but loud enough for Jimin to hear. “Is it another impromptu question? You haven’t asked one in awhile,” He chuckled, his cute eyes upturning into crescents.

“Close your eyes to find out,” You said.

“Close my eyes? Is this the part where you murder me?” Jimin teased, causing you to playfully roll your eyes.

“No... just close them,” You whined.

“Alright, I’ll close them,” Jimin relented, closing his eyes at your request. Taking another shaky deep breath, you took the basket out from behind your back and held it in front of you. “Open...” You whispered.

Once Jimin opened his eyes, he let out a cute gasp, eyes lighting up at the sign of the gift. “W-What’s this?” He asked, looking up at you with a huge smile on his face. “It’s um, all your favorites. Jimin’s basket of favorites,” You declared, holding the basket out for Jimin to take, which he happily did. “Y/n, this is amazing. What’s the special occasion?” He asked, looking down at the assorted gifts and snacks.

“You’re always making me smile, so I wanted to return the favor,” You shrugged in an attempt to look casual about it. “Really? I make you smile?” Jimin smirked, making your cheeks heat up. “Y-Yeah you do...” You admitted, kicking at the rocks on your porch. “You’re such a sweet girl, Y/n, cute too,” Jimin whispered to you, causing your breath to hitch.

“C-Cute?”

“Yep, you’re a cutie,” Jimin said, booping your nose.

“Would you um... Let this cutie ask you out to lunch?” You asked.

“Most definitely,”

“Park Jimin, do you want to grab lunch sometime?”

“It’s a date, cutie,”

#jimin #park jimin #jimin x reader #bts jimin #bts oneshot #bts #jimin fic

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giowritess · 4 years ago

Text

straight to my head [henry cavill]

masterlist

Pairing: Henry Cavill x bestfriend!female!reader

Request: “Hi! May you please write a Henry Cavill one where you’re hanging out with him and you have feelings for him but haven’t had the guts to tell him but that day your sister called you and you started speaking in Spanish to her about Henry but little did you know that he actually knew Spanish and he teased you about it. Happy ending please, thank you!”

Warnings: cursing, some angst, fluff

Word-count: 2,697

Author’s note: HEY GUYS! I can’t believe I’m finally posting my first writing piece here on Tumblr! It’s my first attempt at writing this kind of fanfiction (well, the second, actually), and I truly hope you like it, especially you, dear anon, who requested this. I did some changes, hope you don’t mind. This one was based on the song Straight to My Head, by You Me At Six, and I’d really like if you listened to it. A big thank you to my best friend, @naturiz for the Spanish part, and a big shoutout to my amazing beta/daughter/friend/love of my life @amirahiddleston <3333 I’d be lost without you!

gif credit goes to @b-n-a-o

Straight to My Head

You had never been the kind of person to enjoy dancing.

Yet, here you were, jumping, moving and swaying your hips to the beat of your favorite song in the middle of an empty dance floor. A little tequila-and-other-alcoholic-beverages-induced, yes — but you were happy, not even minding the glances you were getting. All the stress that had built up in the past few weeks had finally left your body, and you had your friends to thank for that. They were the ones who’d dragged you down here, to a cosy small pub. It had been way too long since the last time all of you had spent time together, and everyone seemed to benefit from a bit of fun and forgetting the real world.

Exactly as you were doing right now, completely oblivious to everything and everyone else. How good it felt to be trapped in your bubble, with nothing but your fuzzy mind and your favourite song.

“Didn’t know you could dance, y/n,” Henry teased, not far from you. You could even hear the smirk in his deep voice.

“Shut up, idiot,” you replied, snapping out of your bubble and walking closer to your friends.

“Seriously, though,” he insisted, grinning like a kid, “those were amazing dance moves. You should teach me.”

You just rolled your eyes, making him laugh, and tried to hide your smile. Your relationship with Henry had always been playful like this, ever since you met a couple of years ago. You two had been through a lot together — it was quite a fun and exciting journey to follow his success as an amazing actor that close, which meant celebrations, parties, even a few premieres.

As the boys got ready to play some pool, you stood in the back with a beer in hand, watching him — always him and no one else. You sighed as you watched him move with the ease and gracefulness of a cat. A big, fluffy cat who seemed to be serious and almost dangerous on the outside, but was nothing more than a playful little kitten on the inside.

The dim lighting in that corner of the room sent shadows over his godly features, the sight sending warmth up your core. He was always the most handsome man in the room. And in your head.

That was where he was. He’d taken over your thoughts ever since you met, and there was nothing you could do to take him out; he was already at home and wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. You tried as hard as you could, even dated other people, but it was pointless. You still fell hard for him anyway.

But Henry was your best friend, and you were his. You talked about everything, helped each other with everything — even his own love life. It hurt you. Like hell, but there was nothing you could do about it but listen and be there for him when he needed, just like he did for you. His friendship is one of the most precious things on Earth to you, but that is all you were meant to be. He was yours, but not in the way you truly wanted.

Which was why sometimes it got too hard for you. Sometimes you had to step back and pull yourself together when it was too much for your heart. Seeing him with other women, especially when you knew he was happy, was far more than you could take, a pain you couldn’t avoid.

You straightened yourself up and dropped the bottle on the table. You needed to sober up. Being drunk around Henry was always a dangerous idea — you were a complete mess. Crazy, unpredictable and suddenly brave. The possibility that you’d end up saying or making anything that could lead to regrets and ruining your friendship was a giant risk — one you couldn’t take. So, you always tried your best to be as sober as possible, but tonight you desperately needed the freedom and release that only alcohol could give you. And he happened to be around.

“Be right back,” you muttered to no one in particular, making your way towards the ladies room. They were too entertained in their game to miss you, anyway.

Thankfully, the bathroom wasn’t crowded, just a few girls who seemed half your age, many who had probably got in with a fake ID. You went straight to the sink and splattered the cold water in your face one, two, three times. But it was the girls’ conversation that caught your attention.

“Did you see Henry Cavill playing pool by the back? Jesus fucking Christ, that’s Heaven made of flesh,” one of them said.

“Can you believe our luck? Gotta be fate,” the one applying mascara in front of the mirror replied.

They laughed together and started to make their way outside.

“I think I’m gonna try my luck, who knows,” you heard one of them say as they left the bathroom, and you gripped the sink with both hands, taking a deep breath.

You had no right to be angry with their words. In fact, you understood a-hundred-per cent how they felt — you felt that way almost all the time, too. But fuck. There was no way in controlling the anger that was taking over you, as well as the few lonely tears that escaped the corner of your eyes. There was nothing you could do about it but simply accept it. That was your job as his best friend.

After a few deep breaths, you pulled yourself together, and finally mustered the courage to leave the bathroom. Your anger alone, still tingling through your face, your arms, your fingers, had sobered you up some seventy-per cent by now. You stopped by the bar to buy some chocolate and was met with one of your friends.

“Hey y/n, wanna play some pool? We need someone,” he asked.

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, eating the chocolate before you walked back to the pool table.

You grunted at the scene in front of you. The girls from the bathroom, one sitting in the back with her arms wrapped around one of your friends and the other one — the prettiest one, with long, dark hair and a beautiful black dress that hugged her body in the best way — tangled up with Henry, laughing and touching him whenever��(and wherever) she could. Which meant all the time (and everywhere).

It wasn’t that this kind of thing didn’t happen often — it did, in fact; of course it would, when your group of friends had you as the only woman. And you didn’t care for your other friends, they could do whatever they wanted if it’d bring them a bit of happiness, even if momentary. But Henry was… Henry. He would never be like everyone else, and you couldn’t fool yourself or your heart to believe that.

“Girls, this is y/n,” your friend said, and the girls smiled at you.

You tried your best to look sympathetic.

“Hey, I’m Devon,” the one in the back waved at you.

“And this is Julia,” Henry told you and motioned at the girl beside him.

With another deep breath, you smiled and hoped it looked real enough.

You didn’t know what happened to you. You’d never been this jealous, you’d always been able to control your emotions and prevent them from rising to surface. But that night felt completely different. Probably because of all the alcohol, but there was no way you’d be able to look unaffected.

“Ready to kick some asses?” your pair asked, handing you the stick.

“Born ready, baby,” you replied, applying chalk to the end of the poolstick.

Julia was Henry’s partner, of course. He had to show her how to properly hold the stick and how to play, but you had your doubts if she truly didn’t know or was just pretending. Well, you’d pretend if you were in her shoes.

It was no surprise when you made the first ball — you had a natural talent for the pool. Especially when drunk. And angry.

The chocolate in your mouth felt bitter because you kept hearing Julia’s giggles and saw the way Henry touched her. Every fucking time she was going to play, he had to be glued to her back, lingering touches on her hand, her arms. It began to piss you off way more than you imagined.

You made a ball. And another, and another, and another. Four in a row, leaving only two of your balls on the table.

“Fuck, y/n,” your partner said, and laughed, clearly a bit shocked. “Where did that come from?”

“What can I say,” you replied, “the effects of anger.”

The game soon came to an end, you made the victory hit. You started another, trying your best to focus on the game and nothing else. But it was hard. It was so fucking hard when Julia and Henry didn’t even pretend to play properly, due to their drunken stupor and lust for one another. When his lips went closer to her ear, you finally snapped. There was no way in fucking hell you were going to endure that. No. Enough.

“I’m through,” you stated before dropping the stick on the table.

You didn’t care about the stupid game. All you wanted was to leave the pub, to get away, and cry and scream and fill up your sister’s inbox with countless messages rambling about it.

That was exactly what you did the instant you crossed the door, drinking in the cold night air and fishing for your phone. After finding her contact, your fingers started to fly across the keyboard, but you realized that wasn’t enough for how angry you were.

“No puedo creer lo enojada que estoy por eso [I can’t believe how mad I am],” you started. Of course, it’d be in Spanish, your mother tongue: it was the only way you truly could express your anger.

You weren’t even sure what you wanted to say, but you had to say something, to get it out. There was a pressure in your chest that’d only be alleviated after you opened your heart to someone, obviously your sister.

“Tú no creerías lo tan enojada que estoy. ¡Pero ugh! ¡Simplemente no puedo controlarlo y no mames eso me deja demasiada enojada! [You wouldn’t believe how mad I am. But ugh! I just can’t control it and that makes me so fucking angry!]”

You sent that first audio message to her. You didn’t even have an internet connection, so she’d only receive it after you connected to wifi or something, but it didn’t matter. You just had to speak. Get it out of your system.

“Dios, desearía que pudieras verlo con tus propios ojos todos los toques y coqueteos. Simplemente me mandaron por un tubo y no sé cómo enfrentarlo, sabes? No hay ninguna explicación más allá de la verdad, que él debe haber entendido, de todos modos. O no, apuesto que Julia lo mantiene demasiado ocupado para que yo ocupe su mente [God, I wish you could see for yourself! All those touches and flirting. It just pushed me off the edge and now I don’t even know how to face him, you know? There’s no explanation besides the truth. Which he must have already figured it out, anyway. Or not. I bet Julia is keeping him too busy for me to occupy his mind at all],” you said in a single breath. There. Now you felt as if the weight was off your chest.

After pressing the “send” button, you took a much needed deep breath. The cold weather had a calm, soothing effect on you as you breathed in the night air; you could feel yourself getting calmer. Still angry, yes, but a bit calmer.

So trapped in your own space, you almost jumped when you heard his voice.

“No hay nada que nunca pueda sacarte de mi mente [There’s nothing that can ever keep you off my mind].”

Even in a perfect Spanish, his deep British accent was still present.

Oh, my, god. There he was, behind you, and you wanted to bury yourself six feet under and never, ever come out.

“Henry!” Your voice was a shriek. “I… I’m… I sh…” you stuttered, not knowing what to say. You could feel your heart pounding violently against your chest.

What to say, what to do, how to act. You had no idea Henry even spoke Spanish, and you sure as hell hadn’t expected him to follow you outside. Díos mio. Had he heard every single word you just said? You were glad that it was dark, ‘cause your face must’ve definitely been on fire.

“I’m sorry,” he said, making you look at him with a visible question mark on your face. “For making you feel like that. I did want to affect you, though, and I’m quite glad I did.”

“What? Henr—”

“See, y/n,” he interrupted you, “I had a theory, and you just proved it.”

He came closer, his beautiful face stepping under the thin lightning which made his baby blue eyes to shine. He hovered above you, like a lion over his prey, but you weren’t intimidated at all. Though confused and with your head spinning as fuck.

“My theory was that you and I feel the same way about each other,” he continued, getting closer and closer at each word that left his lips.

Díos. Were your dreams coming true? Was this real? Were you dreaming, or even seeing properly? You could hear your speeding heart, and you wondered if he could hear it, too.

“Henry, I… I’m… I’m lost in translation here,” you replied, your weak voice almost a whisper.

He had to say it. You needed to hear the words coming out of his very own lips, otherwise, it wouldn’t be real.

A low chuckle came from him. He left very little space between your faces when he got even closer and cupped your face with both hands.

“I’ve been falling in love with you ever since you entered my life, love,” he said. Your knees were weak, and you felt as if you were going to fall dead on the ground. “But you never gave me any signal that you felt the same. Until I started to notice the small details. Your face, your eyes, your hands. Your words, your expressions. The little things gave you away, y/n.”

The warm touch of his big hands on your face, all the love and tenderness with which he spoke every single word made your heart swell. No one had ever spoken with that much affection towards you, no one had ever held you that gently as he did. Your best friend. Your soulmate.

“So? Am I right then? He asked playfully, chuckling because you hadn’t said anything yet.

You felt as if a lightning bolt had just gone through you, your skin prickling.

“Yes!” You instantly said, feeling some tears on your eyes. “Yes, Henry, yes. You are. I don’t even know for how long I’ve loved you. I was… I was scared of ruining our friendship. I’m sorry, if I’d kno—”

He shushed you with a gentle kiss, timidly placing one of his hands in the back of your neck. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders.

“No regrets or apologies,” he murmured, touching your forehead with his. “Though I do regret the method I used to prove my point,” he said, chuckling. “I’m sorry. I was getting desperate and running out of options. I just couldn’t bear to spend another entire day being nothing more than friends with you,” he explained, his eyes locked with yours. One of his hands started tracing the line of your bottom lip. “Not being able to touch you, to kiss you… God knows how torture it was to be around you all this time.”

It was your turn to laugh. He felt exactly like you did, then.

“Henry?” You whispered. “Come home with me?”

An affirmation, an invitation, an order? You didn’t know. But all that mattered was his answer.

“Yes.”

A/N: I hope from the depths of my heart that you enjoyed it! For now I do not have a taglist, but if you’d like to be tagged in my future works, let me know <3

xoxo, Gio

#writing #fanfiction #gio writess #FIRST REQUEST #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill smut #fandom #dc

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kittysuicoffee · 4 years ago

Text

Octonauts high (human au)

The new kid in an ocean of fish

“Peso! Get up or going to be late for school!” Peso’s mother called from down stairs. Peso covered his head with his pillow he was too tired to even think about getting up. Petrona tapped her feet down the stairs signing that you’re her second oldest son is refusing to get up for his first day of school! She turned from the stairs and went into the kitchen where her youngest son was at pinto was sitting at the kitchen table eating some breakfast that his mother made, he was wearing school clothes. He looked up as his mother was walking in, he smiled at her “Buenos Dias mama!” pinto exclaimed happily. Petrona smiled at her son “Buenos Dias hijo.” She cooed “Pinto dear could you be a dear and wake up your brother so he can eat and to be early for the bus?” Petrona asked sweetly pinto nodded getting up from his sit to get his brother. When pinto made it to his brother’s door and tried to open it to find out it was locked pinto shook his head walking away from his brother’s room door to go to his room instead he opened his room door and walked in there was a few boxes in his room that he had yet to unpack going over to his dresser that was right next to his bed “now where did I put that key?” he asked himself opening the second drawer he turned over a few books until he found what he was looking for he pulled out a small sliver key. He smiled closing the drawer and walking out of his room and back to his brothers using the key he opened up his big brother room he peak his head in to see a dark room he turn his head to face his brother’s bed. Peso was currently sleeping on his bed Pinto quietly walked into Peso’s room he went over to bed peso “hermano mayor.” Pinto said quietly lifting up peso’s blanket pinto saw peso long messes black and white hair was covering his face and he was still sleeping he tried again louder this time “hermano mayor it’s time to get up for school. Come on.” Peso mumbled something under his breath turning away his back facing his brother. Pinto pouted signing desperate times called for desperate measures…

Petrona was quietly humming to herself sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee and reading a book than she heard a screaming and the sound of laughing and then running and yelling she smile getting up from the table and walking to the foot of the stairs she saw pinto running down the stairs he jumped a few stairs and stand behind her giggles she saw peso next running down the stairs she had to keep herself from laughing seeing her son was covered in water. He stopped facing his mother “Buenos Dias hijo” she cooed slyly peso looked at her his eyes narrowed at his little brother who currently standing behind their mother he signed knowing he won’t be able to get his little brother back until later that day “Buenos Dias mama…” “now go up stairs fix your hair and get dress for school you’re going to be late for the bus!” she exclaimed clapping her hand Peso nodded going up stairs to get ready.

When he came back down stairs, he noticed that his brother and his mother was already gone he walked into the kitchen he saw a note on the table besides a plate of food and coffee. He read the note ate his breakfast and drink his coffee after that he grabbed his house keys and his bookbag and ran out the door locking it behind him.

Peso was panting hard when he made it to the bus stop, he saw the bus pull up taking a deep breath he walked up the stairs of the bus “good morning you must be the new student am I correct?” the bus driver asked peso nodded she smiled “well it’s nice to meet you. What is your name?”

“Peso. Peso Hernandez.” “well nice to meet you Mr. Hernandez my name is April. Right now, you don’t have an assigned seat yet, so you made have to sit next to Brian for now.” Peso nodded “Brain can you stand up please?” April called a boy with short blue-gray hair stood up his blue eyes show curiosity “yes Ms. April?”

Ms. April turn to Peso than to Brian “Brian Mr. Hernandez will be your seat buddy is that alright with you?” Brian smiled “no I don’t mind at all!” with that being said Ms. April smiled “go ahead Mr. Hernandez.” With that Peso walked to his new seat and sat down Peso turn to face Brain who was smiling at him “its nice to meet you Mr. Hernandez! The name is Brian Barnacles!” Brian exclaimed Peso looked at him than said “you can call me Peso Barnacles…” Brain blinked but nodded “and you can call me Brian!” “no, I just call you Barnacles.” Peso said turning to face the front of the bus Brain furrowed his brow at Peso “can I ask why?” Peso turn to face Brian again “I find your last name to be cute and silly.” Brian opened his mouth than shut it blushing a deep red “we-well thank you.” Brian turned away scratching the back of his head than he stopped and turn to face him again “silly?”

“yes, quite silly. It the fact that your last name is literally a sea animal name.” Peso said giggles Brian was about to said something but stopped and looked away he blushed again. “well why are you named after a coin?” Brian said smugly Peso looked at him bored “la razón por la que tus padres te nombran percebes porque es lindo y tonto.” Brian looked at him he opened and closed his mouth then face the front of the bus mumbling to himself about he should had pay more attention in Spanish class.

When Peso made it to school he was taken aback how big it was he gulped walking into the school he looked around trying to find the front deck he saw nothing but class rooms he continued though the hallways unit he reach the a big area of the school to seem to be the schools common area their was around hallway it him to be going by letters and number the hallway right in front of him was label G1 he turned around to looked at the letter and number behind him it was label H2 so is the halls going in order or not in order he shook his turning to face the other way there were a lot of students here some of them are going into another room that was right next to G1 hallway he guess to be the cafeteria. He tried asking for help but some of the students ignore him which annoyed “hey there little guy are you lost?” a female voice asked “pequeñin?” Peso said turning around to face the feminine voice standing right in front of him was a tall female no taller than him she had dirty blonde hair at the end of her hair was dyed green. She looked confused “pequeñin? Hey jr. what does that mean?” she asked turning to a tall boy with messy brown his face was current in a book if Peso looked closer to see the title of the book it read ‘and then there were none’ the boy named jr. looked up from his book then mumbled “little guy.” then want back to his book “little guy… so that was that mean.” She mumbled to herself, but she smiled turning to look back at Peso who took a step back she held out her hand and gave Peso a little wink “the name is Tweak Turner, and this bookworm is Shellington Vadini jr.!” Shellington not looking up from his book gave a little wave to Peso. Who wave back “what’s yours?” Peso looked at her then smiled “my name is Peso Hernandez.” He took her hand into his and shake he pulled away “umm do you know where the front office is?” “of course, I do just follow me!” with that Peso followed Tweak and Shellington to the far end of the hall they turn a corner Peso saw that the hall name was G2 and continued down the hall they stop by some stairs that was on the right side of the hallway and went up them when they made up the stairs they turn left and walked a few more steps until they stop at a set of double tweak knocked on them and they waited they heard walking and the doors opened a young woman with dark green that looks like she in her early twenties was standing inside of the room looking at both Tweak and Shellington she didn’t even noticed Peso “what do you two want?” she asked with annoyed tone of voice Tweak smiled than pointed at Peso “we’re here to drop of the new student!” Tweak happily exclaimed the woman eyes turn to Peso who looked nervous “name.” she ordered Peso stammered over his words he cleared his throats before speaking “m-my name is Peso Hernandez.” The woman nodded stepping aside “come on in Mr. Hernandez.” Peso nodded walking into the office he gasped when he walked in the office was huge the front desk was big in had a one computer and few TVs he assume it was for security purposes behind the desk was a big set of double door looking up it read “head master” he than turn to his right there was other set of double doors but it was not as big as the head master and it read “counselor office” “having fun?” a voice said behind him he jumped and turn to be face with the nameless woman “umm yes I mean! no its very big room.” Peso said with a nervous chuckle the woman hummed she walked to her desk Peso followed when she got behind it she point to the left of Peso he turned his head to see six chairs that was near the walls “take a sit over there and wait I have to get you someone to show you around the school and to your classes…” Peso nodded “thank you Ms…” the woman looked at Peso and he got the hint and sat in one of the chair.

Peso sat silently in his chair the only sound was the typing of the keyboard and the sound of the clock that was ticking the bell ring a few minutes ago and the unnamed woman told him it was the first bell meaning it was time for them to head to class Peso nodded in understanding. He sighed becoming inpatient he heard a phone ringing and he turned to face the desk where the woman was at, she put up the phone and begin speaking to whoever was on the other line. She nodded and put the phone back onto the holder than she went to the speaker that was right next to it can click a button “Dashi Yamamura please come to the head master office.” With that being down she got up and went to counselor office she knocked, and Peso heard a muffed “come in” and she walked in it was a few second when she walked back out holding a price of paper she went back down behind the desk.

Then there was a knock at the door “come in” she called the door opened a girl with brown hair and brownish- purple eyes walked she was a bit on the chubby side, and she was very pretty Peso blushed a little when he saw her walk in. “yes Ms. Griffin?” the girl named Dashi asked Ms. Griffin hand Dashi a price of paper and then pointed to Peso who was watching them. “see that student over there. I need you to show him around the school and where his classes are. If you looked at his schedule you and him have the same three classes and he had two class with your friend Mr. Stephenson, can you asked him to show where Mr. Hernandez last class is.” Dashi nodded “yes ma’am I can asked him.” “good.” Then she turn to Peso “your free to go Mr. Hernandez.” Peso nodded he got up picking up his bookbag to follow Dashi to his class.

“so, Mr. Hernandez…” Dashi said looking at Peso who in turn looked back at her “yes?” “umm so I wanted to say welcome to octo high. I hope you enjoy the school year with us and umm…” Dashi took out her phone to look at something real quick “and umm just remember we’re here to help you meet your goals…” “yo-you can stop now I think I got it…” Peso said putting his hand on Dashi shoulder to stop her “oh thank god! I am really sorry when we get a new students, we have to read this god awful speaks.” “its fine I heard worse also you can call me Peso.” Dashi smiled “okay Peso so our first class is math 2-1 which is down stairs to the right!” Peso nodded following Dashi down the stairs they turned right and continued they stop at a door that read 2-1 math Dashi opened the door and walked in with Peso right behind her there was up to eighteen students in the class if he count him and Dashi would make twenty Dashi lead him to his new teacher desk “Mrs. Peach?” a woman with reddish-blonde hair turned to face Dashi “yes miss. Yamamura?” “we have a new student! His name is Peso Hernandez!” Dashi step aside Peso waved at his teacher who smiled “well its nice to meet you Mr. Hernandez my name is Mrs. Peach I am glad to have you in my class you can sit with miss. Yamamura and Mr. Stephenson.” Peso gave a nervous smile and said, “thank you Mrs. Peach.” With that Peso followed Dashi to their seat a boy with braided hair sat in this seat playing idly on his phone he blue-green eye looked up from his phone to see his best friend coming to their table he also noticed someone else he hadn’t seen before he was now curious “Kwazii!” Dashi said with the biggest smile that he had ever seen “Kwazii this is Peso he’s new here and were going to the bestest friend we have the same three classes with him! You two will have the same class as well! I was also wondering if you can show him to his last class and I can show him the clubs after school. Are you okay with that?” “hon I had no idea what you just said but I am down with it” Kwazii said eyeing Peso who looked nervous Dashi pouted little bit crossing her arms “what your name?” Kwazii asked Peso looked extremely nervous “m-my name is Peso.” “Peso like the coin?” Peso nodded “that adorable!” “th-thank you…” Kwazii smiled than turn to Dashi “now repeat what you said but slower hon.” Dashi nodded and began to explain again but slower Kwazii nodded after she was done explaining “okay let me see his schedule.” Dashi showed him and he nodded than he turn back to Peso “you’re in good hands matey.” Peso nodded “so um when do class start?” “ten.” Kwazii said Peso eyes went wide “ten minutes?!” “no ten seconds but it starts now.” Kwazii showed Peso his phone where there was a green check mark on its Peso was confused by this “Mr. Hernandez?” Peso looked away from Kwazii phone to look at his teacher “may I see your phone?” Peso went into his bag to pull out his phone he handed it to Mrs. Peach she told it and started to type on it in a few minute she handed Peso his phone back and smile at him “now you are in my class. Miss Yamamura, can you explain the octopod app to him please?” “yes ma’am!” with that Mrs. Peach walked back up front to start class.

“so, the octopod app pretty much let the teacher check you into class?” peso asked as they walked out of there math class Dashi nodded “there also a cool little feature on its as well.” Kwazii said “what the feature?” “you noticed how there is only one bell during the day and then at the end of class and there is no warning bell.” “yeah?” “well, you see matey when the first bell ring the app send you a notification a timer to, yet you know how long you have before you class starts.” Peso looked at Kwazii in awe. Kwazii smirk “yea know Peso has anyone told you how cute you are?” Dashi shook her head putting her hand on her face Peso looked at him than said “I been called cute by everyone my mom, my older brother and sister, my little brother, my dad, my ex’s yeah pretty much everyone… why?” Kwazii and Dashi was taken aback for a moment than Dashi began to laugh Kwazii looked away embarrassed Peso looked at both Dashi and Kwazii in confusion.

Dashi hummed to herself as she waited for Peso the final bell just let out a few minute ago she looked at her phone see how long before the bus leave lucky for her they only got about six minute which could be enough time to show him where the clubs are. Dashi wanted to show in and explain the clubs in detail to Peso so he could pick his own, but she just have to settle down and just show him she turned her head when she heard the class room door was opening, she saw a few students walking out most of them looking pissed Peso was the last one out “Peso?” Peso stopped and turned to Dashi “oh hello Dashi were you waiting for me?” Dashi nodded with a smile Peso didn’t smile but frowned “what happened?” Peso looked at her and moved his head to the said to say, “follow me” she obliged following Peso when they were a couple feet away from his class he turn to Dashi and said, “that teacher is an ass!” Dashi blinked “really? How come?” “the first thing when I got there, he give me two weeks of homework and then said have this done by next Monday. Like how the hell does that! And what make it even worse he doesn’t go over what this is! And he wanted it done by Monday! Dashi its Friday I only have today and the weekend to finish this! And it thirtieth pages long!” Dashi watch quietly as Peso went on his little rent ‘is that why everyone is that class looked upset?’ she thought than she took out her phone to look at the time her eyes went wide they only have two-minute left before the bus leaves she panicked grabbing Peso arm and running to the nearest stairs.

Peso walked into his home with a deep sigh him and Dashi missed the bus he had to apologized to her multiple times, but Dashi didn’t accepted his apologizes not because she was mad at him, but she told him that she understand lucky for them Kwazii was walking out of the school to head to his car Dashi asked him if they could get a ride home which he agreed to. “Hola gran hermano!” Pinto exclaimed from the couch Peso looked at him than said “Hola hermanito.” He walked into the kitchen to see if his mother was in, she sometime listen to her programs or music when she in the kitchen, but he saw that she wasn’t there “Pinto where is mama?” “she at the store.” Peso nodded then want over to the couch “here.” Pinto looked up from the tv to see a piece of candy in Peso hand Pinto gasped grabbing the candy before he opened it, he looked at Peso with suspicion “what did you do to this candy?” Peso was taken back by this accusation “Pinto! How could you say that!” “well, I pour water on you this morning… and you have a track record of being petty...?” “well rest assured you that there is nothing wrong with that candy!” Pinto hesitated but nodded “okay I trust you Peso.” Peso smiled “great now I am going upstairs to procrastinate on my homework later!” with that Peso went upstairs to his room Pinto watch him go looking at the candy with greedy eyes.

When peso made it to his room, he looked the door and went straight to bed his bed was still damp from this morning he closed his eyes than smiled when he heard Pinto screamed Peso chuckled glad he asked Kwazii if he can take one of his pieces of his spicy candy with him he knew that Pinto would not pay attention to the type of candy he eats and the fact that didn’t is not a big fun of hot stuff with that Peso yawned and went to sleep…

Aftermath

Petrona walked into her home to see her youngest son drinking a cup of milk and she noticed a piece of red candy on the floor near the couch she walked over to her son “what happened.” “Peso gave me spicy candy!” Pinto exclaimed Petrona hummed in understanding she went into the store bag and pulled out a candy bar Pinto hesitated “don’t worry love the sweetness of the candy well dull the spice in your mouth.” Pinto took the candy and started to eat it “is it helping?” Pinto nodded “well then its time to get your brother back don’t you say mi hijo?” Pinto hummed in approval.

fuck I am finally done with chapter one of this! lol so here is the octokids in high school don't know when I'll start on chapter two but hope ya like it! reread proofread it and a little rewrite here and there I will be also uploading this to my Wattpad and my AO3 I also well be drawing the cover for this story so stay tone for that. and can you give me feedback on this if I need to change or fix somethings thanks for reading!

translations:

Buenos Dias mama-Good morning mom

Buenos Dias hijo-Good morning son

hermano mayor-eldest brother

pequeñin-little guy

la razón por la que tus padres te nombran percebes porque es lindo y tonto-the reason why your parents name you barnacles because it cute and silly

Hola gran hermano-Hello big brother

Hola hermanito-Hello Brother

mi hijo-my son

#octonauts #octonauts peso #octonauts shellington #octonauts au #octonauts dashi #octonauts tweak #octonauts kwazii #octonauts captain barnacles #octonauts professor inkling #octonauts oc #my writing #long reads #long post

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kingluvsyou · 4 years ago

Text

He was doubting himself. Was this even the right building? Would they even like his work? God, what if someone gave him issues because he hated mess. His grip on the leather steering wheel tightened though it made no difference with the fabric enclosing his slender hands. While resting his head on the steering wheel, he left out a quiet sigh that quickly devolved into a noise of frustration. He sat up,

"You're a grown man, Tomo. You can do this. Are you really going to let the possibility of mess affect you?"

He knew talking to himself was weird but it didn't matter. At last, he got out of the speckless car with his bag in one hand and phone in the other.

He tried to tune out any excessive noise, only hearing his own footsteps until the increasingly loud clicks of heels could be heard from behind him. Tomo slowed down, intending to turn around but the small woman ran passed him. A faint saint of roses intruded his nose. He quickly recognised her as his next door neighbour. She slowed down and swung open the glass door quickly but was polite enough to keep it open for the tall Japanese man behind her. He said nothing, sure that if he did, it wouldn't be acknowledged. However, he did get to hear the tail end of the receptionist greeting the young woman.

"...Duckie!"

Was all that he heard. So that was her name? It suited her though. It seemed that she hadn't gotten a car yet, instead walking to make up for the difference though this time she had been sprinting - showing through her clothes and hair being ruffled. It was his turn to talk to the receptionist,

"H-hey"

Damn it. He stuttered. Clearing his throat, he tried again,

"Hello, I'm Tomo Suzuki. I was hired here recently, is there somewhere Im supposed to be specifically?"

All he got in return was a blank stare from the woman in front of him. Pressing his lips together briefly, almost ready to speak once more but he was interrupted by her finally speaking.

"Ah.. New hire from Japan?"

She asked then nodded, seemingly answering her own question. Even if she sounded bored, he took no offence. Silence fell between the pair before she said something.

"Third floor. Door with the director on the name plate, should have your boss inside."

The loud clacks of her lengthy nails hitting the keyboard started up. Her unenthusiastic tone suited to bleak reception area. There wasn't much too it, a desk for her to work at, a couple couches that looked rather uncomfortable and firm.

He took a step back then stopped, staring at the double doors leading to the staircase then at the elevator. Which was cleaner? Elevators or stairs? Checking the stairs first resulted in the man scrunching up his nose. There were more overflowing rubbish bins that made him visibly cringe. The smell unsettled him too. Elevator it was, it seemed.

It was definitely smaller than he had expected but at least it he didn't have to slouch so much to avoid hitting the top of his head. Tomo fiddled with the hem of his silk glove again, repeating a small mantra for himself.

"Things are okay. I am okay. I have gloves. Things are okay. I am okay. I have gloves."

He muttered under his breath up until he heard the last ding, indicating that he arrived at the third floor. He stopped fiddling with the glove and let his hand drop to his side. Tomo fixed up his posture as he got out of the elevator, hoping that he hadn't just embarrassed himself by ending on the wrong floor. Despite it taking a while due to his constant hesitance, it didn't take him long to knock on the wooden door.

By the second knock, the door swung open. Tomo was met with a large black man, slightly shorter than he is with long locs tied back. He looked like the epitome of kindness despite his face being aged by stress. Tomo couldn't figure out his age but it's not like he was going to ask regardless. That would've been rude of him especially if he was his boss.

The room was somewhat cramped but fit in two mahogany desks, a midsized bookshelf and various drawers seemingly filled with various physical files. One desk was littered with flower themed stationery. The other desk was quite plain, not much taking up the space aside from the black stationary and a couple small family photos. Sitting at the flower desk was Duckie.

'Hm. Coincidence'

He thought to himself then turned his attention back to the man in front of him.

"Salutations!"

The black man first said. His voice was deep and sounded friendly too. It made him relax slightly but it wasn't visible.

"You're Mr Suzuki, yes? I remember your interview"

He held out his calloused hand for Tomo to shake. Hesitance filled him again but he shook his hand anyway. He was wearing gloves, it should be fine, right? The man had a firm grip, opposing his gentle smile. Lucio! That was his name. It was buried deep in his mind, seemingly buried underneath the piles of things he stressed over. The name on the plate helped too, with the mans first and last name.

"This is Ti-"

Lucio was cut off by the intense stare coming from Duckie.

"Duckie. My apologies"

"I've been here for as long as you have, Luci, and you still can't ge-"

It was her turn to be cut off but it was cut off by her short squeak as her head fell towards.

"-Get it right"

She continued. Her head tilted to the side as she got back to what she was doing.

"As I was saying, this is Duckie. We'll both be your boss but she won't always be in this room. It's temporary until the person she is replacing is completely gone"

Lucio explained. A noise of disgust came from Duckie,

"Replacing sounds mean. I didn't do it intentionally"

"T- Duckie. You gave him flowers as an apology"

She rolled her eyes. It wasn't one of her tics and Lucio could tell.

"Don't roll your eyes at me. We may be at the same level but I am still older than you"

Lucio scolded. He headed out with Tomo, taking him to his new desk. Lucio went through what he had to do to get set up properly, going on about training videos that he could access and where he could go for help.

The walk to his desk wasn't long but the tall duo manage to lengthen it with Lucio taking the time to explain things. The desk was bare aside from the basics; a computer with a keyboard, pot of pencils and a company notebook.

"Have fun!"

Lucio said and patted his back. Tomo suppressed expressing his cringe from the touch to try not offend his new boss. He could hear the man retreating to his office. After briefly staring at his other coworkers, he spent a couple minutes to sanitise his area then pushed the notebook into one of the equally bare drawers underneath his desk to collect dust. The minutes he spent lightly cleaning garnered a couple stares from his colleagues.

Work wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Aside from his constant rearrangement of his desk, wanting to keep it speckless like he tried to keep everything else. Throughout the hours up until his lunch hour, he hadn't been bothered by anyone and he hadn't bothered others. Tomo was fully prepared to skip out on eating at lunch to avoid the massive crowd but that plan fell through when he heard the familiar sound of the Duckie's boots come towards him. He stared at her, saying nothing.

"You're my neighbour, aren't you? I remember seeing you three this morning, with your girls. They're both cute"

Duckie started out, earning a quiet thanks from him. Her hand hit the side of her hip then her collarbone.

"Well, want to have lunch with me? It'll be fun to be friends with a neighbour!"

The blonde offered.

'Miki did say I needed friends... hopefully this is a good start'

He thought then nodded in response. Tomo got out of his seat, easily towering over the girl.

"Dios mio, eres alto"

She stared up at him in surprise. They hadn't gotten so close to each other to really understand the difference between them. The midsized woman turned on her heel and headed towards the cafeteria, making sure he was coming with. Tomo had to slow down repeatedly after overtaking the woman.

The cafeteria was crowded, definitely more than he could handle. He should've brought his mask with him. His body tensed up at the thought of being so close to so many people at once, especially since they were all strangers.

"I'll pay! What would you like?"

She chirped before walking confidently into the crowd. He opened up his mouth to say something but she was gone as soon as her sentence finished. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he mustered up the courage to head into the mass to get her. He gingerly took small steps which eventually lead to the woman who was happily chatting away with a coworker like she hadn't essentially ditched him. It really didn't take her long to be spotted with her fruity blouse and black blindfold that matched her high waisted black pants and boots. Even if it wasn't his intention, he had intimidated the coworker into cutting their conversation short and leaving.

"There you are! Why didn't you come with me?"

She spun around to face the Japanese man.

"I.. don't like crowds"

He admitted with a mild blush dusting his cheeks. It was almost unnoticeable, enough that she didn't mention it. Confusion etched itself onto her face before it turned into recognition.

"Oh! Are you a germaphobe?"

She asked, earning a shrug from him. Tomo changed the subject and picked out some food for himself. He didn't want to pick too much i. case it turned out to be expensive.

"Wait over by the entrance. I'll meet you there"

She directed after counting her money in Spanish. Tomo felt relieved that he could finally escape from the lines. Too many people for him. 10 minutes later, Duckie joined him and handed the food over. She took the lead again to find a quiet spot for them to eat at. The pair ended up by a wooden bench with various flower beds along the bath. There was the occasional passer by that neither acknowledged.

"Is this place okay?"

He simply nodded.

"A man of few words, hm? That's fine!"

Tomo let her talk. It was easier than doing it himself. While he was eating, he mostly listened to her talk about flowers. It was rather interesting even if he wasn't going to use the information. Maybe his kids will like the facts?

Duckie was frequently interrupted by her squeaks or the sound of her hand hitting parts of her body. He was certainly curious but he couldn't tell what to ask in case it was too rude. Thankfully, she noticed the blatant staring.

"Is it about what I'm doing?"

"Yes. Are you sick?"

"I'm not sick.. probably. It's just tics but no proper diagnosis. To be honest, I'm afraid of going in case I get immediately dismissed by the specialist."

"What are tics?"

"Hmm.."

She started, trying to figure out how to explain it.

"Chronic, involuntary movements or noises. I think that's part of the definition. I've had it since I was 14 so many years of this"

She shrugged and threw her rubbish away.

Lunch wasn't long but it was enough for Duckie to consider him a friend. Tomo didn't often contribute to the conversation but he did listen.

"Thanks for staying with me!"

She happily exclaimed, followed up by a squeak.

"We should hang out outside of work! There's a cafe I like going to, it's not too crowded during the morning and afternoon"

He stared at her in return as she got up, heading off to wherever she was needed. Duckie seemed to speed walk wherever she wanted to go. Tomo didn't rush, not like he needed to anyway with his long legs. He threw away his trash in the emptiest bin he could find to avoid touching anything he deemed gross.

He was a little late when he got back to his desk. A minute or two at most. He wasn't as tense as he was this morning but there seemed to be no change in how he carried himself.

It was inching closer to the end of his daughters' school and the start of an after school club each joined. They were used to doing after school activities and they wanted to keep it up but Tomo let them choose the club this time. Kyoko chose for them, picking the ones that gave them the best option to be out of the house the longest. It meant nothing since Tomo had to pick them up to come home to an empty home and missing cash.

Once he checked the time, he stood up - fast enough for the chair to roll back a metre or two. He apologised and moved the chair back then collected his things. He notified his bosses anyway, even if he had talked about it during the online interview. He was more than thankful that the job was flexible with his timings.

The drive over to the school wasn't too far and he managed to arrive on time. Tomo decided on parking further away to avoid any crowd. His kids were understanding enough to not question him about it yet. He joined the group of parents, talking in between themselves as they waited for their kids to come out. Aoi came first since her club was shorter.

"Hi daddy! My teacher is really nice! I like the club. I think I made a friend too!'

She started to talk, lightly tugging on his pant leg. It usually meant that she wanted a piggy back. Tomo crouched down and let her climb up while holding onto her bag in his hand. Aoi continued to talk about her day while they waited for Miki to come. The next club was let out, his other daughter in the crowd of children. She was quiet and held out her hand, wanting it to be held. His concern wasn't too obvious though it did start to grow when she stood close by with her grip on his hand tightening. Miki usually wasn't that affectionate in public while Aoi was the complete opposite. Aoi's talking filled up the silence on the walk back to the car. It was nice to hear her happy chatter instead of silence from her.

He carefully placed them down and made sure they were both buckled up before he was starting to drive home.

"Do either of you have homework to do?"

A 'No' came from the both of them.

"Mmm, wanna help daddy cook tonight?"

Another no.

"Can we play hair dresser?"

Miki meekly asked. Tomo thought for a moment then nodded. He was going to move any sharp objects further from them so neither child decided to give him a physical haircut. Despite his hatred of messes, it was common to see him putting up with it for the sake of having fun with his kids.

#oc story #single father #ocs #my ocs #original work #fluff #domestic #twin girls #father daughter relationship

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years ago

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Is your nose stuffed up at the moment? Nope.

Do you like apples? Not especially. I couldn’t even tell you the last time I had one.

Do you ever read the newspaper? No. I read my news online for the most part and catch some on TV.

Is anyone in your house sick? No.

Someday do you ever want to go and see the Egyptian pyramids? Damn, it’s almost a 16 hour flight to Egypt from California.

Have you ever seen the Statue of Liberty? No. I’ve never even been to New York.

When’s the last time you got your hair cut? Back in February.

When’s the last time you rode a bike? Never.

Spring or summer? Spring out of the two, but meh. It means summer is next and that I don’t like.

Do you like to go sledding in the winter? I’ve never done it.

Do any of your friends’ boyfriend/girlfriends annoy you? I don’t have friends.

What time is it? 5:24AM.

Will you be calling someone tomorrow? No.

Have you smiled today? Yeah.

Do you wish you could start over with anyone? Sometimes.

Do you like Kid Cudi? I liked Day ‘n’ Nite. Whatever happened to him?

Or, who is your favorite rapper? Some that I listen to are Megan Thee Stallion, Cardi B, Nicki Minaj, Drake, Post Malone, Travis Scott, DaBaby, Roddy Ricch, Bryson Tiller, Tory Lanez...

Have you ever created a survey? Once, a longggg time ago. Like, during the Xanga days sometime.

Where were you today? I’m at home and that’s where I’ll stay.

When was the last time you had to give bad news? I’m usually the one receiving the bad news.

Were you sad today? Sad is one of my personality traits.

Do you take any foreign language classes? I’m not in school anymore, but I did in high school and one semester in college.

When’s the last time you received bad news? My doctor wanting me to do ridiculous xrays that aren’t necessary and then throwing in the possibility of doing a spinal cord stimulator and I’m like yeah, absolutely not.

Are your parents together or divorced? They’re still together.

Is there one person you look at and automatically smile? My doggo.

Who are you texting? No one.

What are you doing later on? My Bible study.

Do you wish anyone in particular was still in your life? Yeah, a few people.

Who was the last person you were on the phone with? My mom.

What makes you happy? My doggo, trips to the beach, Disneyland, binging a show with my mom, that first sip of coffee, when it rains, fall, the holidays.

Ever liked someone older than you? Only by a couple years.

Which did you discover first, myspace or Facebook? Myspace. I’m old.

Have you kissed a: A, B, C, D, E, G, K, U, Q, V, T ? D and G.

What was the last thing you ate and why? Ramen. I like having my nightly bowl of ramen, it’s my thing.

What was the last thing you drank and why? Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink cause I like ‘em.

How many tabs do you have open and what are they? 10: 2 are Tumblr related (1 is my dash and the other is my likes), YouTube, Pinterest, 2 LiveJournal survey blogs, Facebook, a Christian radio website page relating to something my church is doing, a website with different prayers and scriptures related to them, and Spotify.

What browser do you prefer to use? I only use Chrome.

What’re five random things on your desk besides any computer-related items? I don’t have a desk.

What room are you in right now? Mine.

What color are the walls and floor in that room? White walls, tan carpet.

What’re the items closest to you that’re red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, pink, white, gray, brown, black, silver and gold? Red: Red and black plaid throw pillow. Orange: Orange highlighter. Yellow: Yellow highlighter. Green: Baby Yoda plushie. Blue: Mist fan. Purple: There’s some purple on one of my pillows. Pink: Bottle of Pepto Bismol. White: There’s white on my Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink can. Grey: My remote. Brown: My Baby Yoda plushie is wearing brown. Black: Laptop keyboard. Silver: My laptop. Gold: A gold garland strand across my dresser from last Christmas. :X

Out of all the things you listed above, which is your favorite? Baby Yoda plushie!

What kind of chair are you sitting in? I’m sitting on my bed.

Where would you prefer to be right now? I want to be right here.

Do you have any plans this weekend? No.

Are you excited for anything this month? This month is just about over, so I’m hoping it starts to cool down soon.

What’s the date today? It’s September 28th.

Is there anything special about today? No.

How’re you physically feeling right now? Tired and my stomach is messing with me.

How’re you emotionally feeling right now? Blah.

Have you ever traveled outside of your home country? I’ve been to Mexico once.

Can you speak, read and/or write in another language besides English? Some Spanish.

What language course did you take in school, if any? Four years of Spanish in high school and one semester in college.

What language would you most like to learn? I’d like to be fluent in Spanish.

What grade are you in right now? I’m done with school.

What would you like to get a degree in? I have my BA in psych.

What was you dream job when you were a little kid? I wanted to be a teacher.

What happened to that dream? I decided it wasn’t what I wanted to do anymore when I got older. I didn’t feel cut out to teach.

Speaking of dreams, when was the last time you had a sleeping dream and what was it about? I always have the most random, weirdest dreams.

Do you have more nightmares or good dreams? Mostly just random and weird.

Do you wake up a lot in the middle of the night? I’m always up all night, so no.

Can you sleep comfortably in another bed besides your own? I can sleep fine in hotel beds. Those are the only other beds I sleep in.

What book are you reading, what genre is it and do you like it so far? “Say You Love Me” by Willow Rose. It’s a murder-mystery and thriller. It’s the 4th book in a series and I’ve really enjoyed them all so far. They’ve all had a really crazy twist I didn’t see coming.

Are you a shorts wearing kind of person? Nope. I never wear shorts.

Is your grandparents’ house obsessively tidy? Yeah.

About how much can you bench press? I can’t at all.

Do you get embarrassed easily? Yes.

Is dinner done yet? It’s 7 in the morning.

Have you ever had your phone die on you in the middle of a conversation? I’m sure it’s happened before.

Is anybody in your family a carpenter? No.

Are you avoiding someone? You could say that.

How social are you? I don’t have a social life at all anymore.

What’s your favorite primary color? Yellow.

What were you for Halloween? I stopped dressing up a few years ago.

Do you like hot chocolate? Yeah.

What do you have pierced? Just my earlobes.

What’s your favorite type of tea? Mint or chamomile.

Do you have any clothes from Walmart? I have a couple shirts.

Are you hungry? Kind of, but my stomach is feeling a little meh.

When did you get a Facebook? Back in 2008.

What color are your eyes? Brown.

How’re you feeling? Tired and blah.

What motivates you? I haven’t felt motivated in a long time...

Can you walk in heels? No.

When was the last time someone asked you your age? I get asked often in surveys.

Why are you taking this survey? I want to.

Do you ever sing in the shower? Yeah.

Do you keep a journal? This is my journal. I share a lot in these surveys.

When is your favorite time of day? When I have my first cup of coffee and the late and early hours when I do my usual routine of surveys and ASMR videos.

How often do you get headaches? Often.

Have you ever tried a weird flavor of vodka? I had caramel vodka before. I don’t think that’s weird, though.

Do you wear a ring on your finger? Nope.

What are you doing? Besides the obvious, I’m listening to an ASMR video.

What’s the last kind of soup you ate? Ramen.

Do you currently have a sunburn? No. I wasn’t able to have my beach trips this year, which is the only time I spend a significant amount of time outdoors. I’ve hardly been out of the house at all since March.

Could you eat nothing but grilled cheese for a week straight? No.

Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? Nah.

Who did you last text? My mom.

Who’d you last call? About what? My mom to ask her something.

Are you currently frustrated with someone? No one but myself.

Have you graduated from high school? Yeah, back in 2008...

Did you receive a good morning text today? I don’t receive those.

Will you be having sex tonight? No.

Do you drink hard liquor? No, I don’t drink anymore.

Have you met anyone new yet today? No. I highly doubt I will.

Do you drink water or soda more often? Water.

Do you straighten your hair? No.

When did you last talk to your brother or sister? Last night.

If you have younger siblings, how old were you when your siblings were born? I was 9 when my brother was born.

Do you watch the Big Bang Theory? No, I never could get into it.

Would you ever pick up gum from the ground and eat it? What in the actual.... NO. Ew, who the hell would do that???

Have you ever gotten stitches? Yeah, several times.

Do you pluck your eyebrows? Yeah.

Think back to the last thing you drank. Did you drink it using a straw? Yeah, I always use a straw.

Do you ever listen to country music? Sometimes.

This time last year were you happier then or now? Neither then or now.

Does your bathroom have a theme to it? No.

From inside of your house, how many doors lead outside? Two.

Do you sometimes use your music player to help you fall asleep? No.

What’s your favorite music video at the moment? I don’t watch music videos anymore. I miss the TRL days, I always looked forward to the top countdown and new video releases.

Can you play the violin? No. I took violin in 4th grade, but I just didn’t enjoy it. Me and the violin didn’t vibe like the piano and I did. I stuck it out for the year and then I was done.

Is the sun shining? Yeah.

Where did you go today? Nowhere.

Have you ever taken a survey while under the influence of drugs or alcohol? Yeah.

Where will you be in an hour? Right here in bed.

Is anyone irritating you? No.

Did you wake up in the middle of the night last night? I haven’t gone to bed, yet.

The last time you burned your tongue or mouth, what were you eating? Probably ramen.

Have your parents ever threatened to throw your things away because your room was messy? No.

Is there any one food you constantly find yourself craving? Boneless wings from Wingstop.

What’s the longest time you’ve ever spent in front of the computer doing surveys? Well, my nightly routine consists of doing surveys. It’s usually between the hours of like 3AM to 7AM. Some of that time is also spent scrolling through my dash, but for the most part it’s doing surveys.

Name someone with big eyes. *shrug*

Do you like the humidity? Nooo.

Who will you hang out with next? My family.

Is your shirt pink? No.

What’s something fuzzy near you? Giraffe stuffed animal.

Are you going to do more surveys? Maybe. I should be going to bed, though...

Who is the most complicated person in your life right now? Me.

Are there a lot of trees in your yard? No, just one.

Did the last type of shoes you wore have laces? Yeah.

How much money do you have on you right now? Some.

Are you CPR certified? No.

What genre is your favorite movie? I have several favorite movies that fall under the horror, psychological thriller, drama, romantic comedy, comedy, fantasy, and sci-fi genres.

Are you texting anybody right now? No.

Who was the last person you were in a car with? My mom.

Do you like the picture on your license/I.D. card? No.

What’s your favorite thing to snack on while watching a movie? If I go to the theater then I gotta have popcorn.

When was the last time somebody hit on you? It’s been years.

Was the last person you met a male or female? Female.

Which one of your friends do you feel most comfortable around?

Do you own a map of the world? No.

What brand is your underwear? They’re from JCP.

What’s your favorite Thanksgiving food? Mashed potatoes and gravy and the stuffing.

Is the light on in the room you’re in? Nope.

Who did you last spoon with? I haven’t spooned with anyone.

Are you currently watching TV? It’s on, but I’m not watching it at the moment cause I’m watching/listening to an ASMR video.

Have you ever had surgery ? I’ve had several.

Do you own any clothing that has animal print? No.

Does your family eat dinner together? Sometimes.

Where do you work? I don’t.

Are you in high school? No. I’ve been out of high school for well over a decade now.

Do you have a TV in your room? Yep.

Are any of your electronics charging right now? My phone, laptop, and Nintendo Switch.

What was the last video game you played? Animal Crossings: New Horizons.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #long survey

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perogipoj · 4 years ago

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all this before coffee

Dedicated to my black sheep family, who will always be golden.

Barbed wire, blank walls and an empty sky. Cocoa Beach. Brevard County, FL. Jail. Also known as SHARPS. Tammy walked into the classroom with an air of bravado coupled with the eyes of a child. I never met a teacher before she said shyly, glancing at her handcuffs on the uncomfortable chair. Even … I hesitated, even in school, I asked gently. I adjusted my own hips to adjust for the cold hard beneath me. I mean, a teacher for real. Her eyes looked down, and I implored with my eyes this time to the corrections officer to remove the handcuffs. Her shoulder length hair was marred by black roots and mustard colored ends. There were scars on her arm from cutting. Her teeth were perfect when she decided to smile. Opening the GRE materials, I joked that I am useless at math but fairly good at grammar. Tammy looked beautiful.

Some of us take many things too far. That has seemed to be my pattern. Even healthy habits turned into obsessions. Jogging turned into running which became marathons and a cruel treatment of my body. Some can run into their seventies without injury as some people live to a hundred while smoking and drinking whiskey to the end. Mindful eating became anorexia and bulimia. Going organic made me broke with the kombucha and hemp that flowed through my veins. Being tidy led me to compulsive house cleaning, often with bleach scouring my hands and my eyes colored in pink tears. Personal grooming turned to hours and dollars of hair coloring, clothes I could not afford, Botox, and breast augmentation. Wanting affirmation led to dangerous and toxic sexual situations.

Jaylen, I was warned, was “special.” I would normally groan inward, used to so many parents highlighting their children as such, usually to explain poor grades. The volunteer walked all twelve years of Jaylen, his mannerisms large and chaotic, into the room in which all toys and colors were removed. I hate reading, he said, standing with his arms crossed in front of him like a knight. Why? It’s stupid. Can you read, I asked, opening the second-grade reader I was given. I don’t need to read, I can dance.

I met The Peruvian on a last minute, pathetic online date. I was at a job expo to acquire my first teaching job after finishing my master’s degree at a world-famous university. I almost flunked out. I could not focus. I cried over social histories in German, a language I lacked grammatical skill in, dreading the meetings with just my professor and another grad student. Black tea, discussions of Marx I got lost in, his approval nodding at the stout Russian girl I already had difficulty understanding in English, never mind in German. In college, I was stellar. On time to each class, writing papers late into the night with a gusto of my fingers and a smile on my face. The world looked bright. On a sweltering day with an incompressible and unimportant commencement speaker, we burnt in the sun and passed around a flask of vodka under our graduation gowns. Life is beginning. I held the parchment color graduation schedule. My name had a star next to it.

I saw that Tammy was no longer shackled when she entered the gray room. Since the week I met with her, she had elevated herself to the trusted inmates who could clean, deliver meals, and hand out the dog-eared pages of books on a squeaky cart. So, you scored extremely high on many levels, Tammy. Let’s take a look at the reading comprehension packet I assigned on The Scarlet Letter. She smiled more brightly. I pressed her for intrigue. Ma’am, she said glowing, my commissary is so lit now I don’t have to eat the garbage they give us. They try to pass off expired food when I deliver it. I wanted to call them out on those pistachios. I don’t have time to answer these packets you give me. But I read the book. What did you read, according to you? We clasped hands. Of course, the minster got off and Hester had to wear the giant A over her pilgrim costume. I dipped my head. Of course. She could read Hawthorne.

I will be the gladdest thing

Under the sun!

I will touch a hundred flowers

And not pick one.

I will look at cliffs and clouds

With quiet eyes,

Watch the wind bow down the grass,

And the grass rise.

And when the lights begin to show

Up from the town,

I will mark which much be mine,

And then start down.

- Edna St. Vincent Millay

Jaylen came running into the room from the play center and basketball court which I assumed was a courtesy to me. He needed to get the wiggles out.

Nassau Point in the summer at Aunt Tillie’s, driving the Long Island Expressway until it ended to countless grey and white mottled roads. Passing vineyards that used to be potato fields, cramming my mouth with the last bit of contraband Doritos which were called a Special Treat to nullify us on the vast expanse from New Jersey to the tiny white house. Decorated in “Early American” with a front glass porch smelling oddly pleasant of moth balls and sunlight. The huge lawn rolling into the bay with a dock that appeared and disappeared with the tide. Kids took showers in the dank basement, carved out of a space teeming of a hoarder. A crusted bottle of prell shampoo and a withered sliver of ivory soap. I met Man-Boy With Very Hairy Legs for the first and last time. Stroking my legs up and down, he asked if I had a boyfriend. I was ten, and smug that I could run through poison ivy and never get a rash. Do you want to fool around, like do stuff? He whispered into my ear everything I did not know yet. That’s what married people do! With his laughter, I leapt my long legs and ran, up the hill, to the driveway where my father was shucking corn. I got away. This time.

I was so excited to see Tammy. But she was not in attendance. I left the CO the beat-up copy of Antigone for her. I never saw Tammy again. “All men make mistakes, but a good man yields when his course is wrong and repairs the evil. The only evil is pride.” This quote was for my betterment, not for Tammy’s.

A time of reckoning, and a time of complete growth. A time of a schedule not placed by us. A journey into us through the connection of others, who became best friends. Vitamin fusions, lining up for medication in ribbed short paper cups, and Group. Totally released from responsibility, my linens and clothes were washed, returned the same afternoon in compact squares surrounded by plastic wrap. Jokes of communal constipation. So, this is my brain mapped. Here is what displays depression, here anxiety, this is insomnia, that part shows a lack of memory and concentration. What is that big blue of the Pacific Ocean? She looked at me, clicked her keyboard. PTSD.

I want to draw a Parrot! P-A-R-R-O-T and speak like one! Wordless, I handed him the blue and black expo markers for the old white board. With precision, he drew the bird. I need more colors, he explained in one breath can I talk like a parrot. I smiled at him at led him to his desk. Let’s try to pay attention today, and I will get you more colors and you can show me how a parrot talks. I began my lesson, and his eyes drifted into imagination. I needed to get him more colors.

I told The Peruvian I was pregnant. Now I can never afford to divorce you he muttered, enraged. Married two months earlier, I realized our honeymoon baby was not welcome. The protesters were angry, and I felt sick. Him on his laptop, me crying to a social worker. Do not sedate me, I plead, I need to feel this sin. Sliding my shoes off in the car, my trunk grinding with mountain rolls of cramps and uncontrollable sobbing coming from a divine place, I declined lunch in West Palm. I never want to do anything fun. Changing my pad alone in a car beneath the ceiling of the parking garage in City Place, I then tilted my head and fell asleep again. My birthday came and went. You didn’t remember my birthday. With that evil glint in his eyes, he turned his head and told me that was because he did not love me.

I purchased a ream of paper and a new box of 42 colors Crayola, legit, sharpener in the box, for Jaylen. He immediately sat down and drew and drew. Can we put some words to these if we use the colors you want? He looked up at me shyly and wrote down five words from the fifth-grade reader. How did you know that? Easy, my Grammy teaches me.

I did not smoke to fit in. I smoked because it felt good out in the parking lot, vying for shade, with the Tech supplying communal cigarettes and a light. The wave went through me and my lips burned with the dirt and smoky taste. You look like Strawberry Shortcake trying to smoke a cigarette! My mother was a sophisticated Virginia Slims smoker, sitting on the brick steps in her tennis skirt, so beautiful, watching my brother play in the backyard waiting for my father to return from work. I sat next to her in awe, breathing in the sprinkler water and counting its pattern, hum hum-hum-hum, hum hum-hum-hum.

I took a cigarette break on my Uber ride home. I knew I would not smoke much when I got home. However, I did not consume much except cigarettes and black coffee. I felt Parisian. The house got messy, and my thighs grew softer. Investing only in ponds cold cream and drugstore mascara, I laughed deeper and threw myself into work more than ever, with determined concentration, forgetting my posture, hunched over in zeal working sixty hours a week. Anxiety attacks did not make my head and hands shake while driving. I binged watched Law and Order. Being unhealthy never felt so healthy.

I called the jail to let them know I am available for other inmates if they needed me. I went the next day to help a young man learn English as a second language. All went well until he stood up screaming asking for a guard then switching to Spanish.

Here is your key, you can find your mailbox in the teacher lounge. Here is the form to join the union, Mr. Pescatelli will most certainly find you about that. Do you know what a block schedule is? In the morning you will be teaching Advanced Placement European History to our magnet students. After lunch, you have sophomore World History in the fourth wing. The afternoon will have different challenges. If you ever need assistance, security is just down the hall. Welcome to Ft. Lauderdale High School. Welcome to my first year of teaching.

…

I met the Sophisticated Scandinavian Man in Boston in the Spring. A PhD candidate from a social democracy intrigued me. I was twenty-two and he was twenty-eight. I felt like a puppy taken in from the cold. There is a long story for this, maybe later. The times in which he devoured me, lavished upon me, he loved a short story I wrote, “All this before coffee.”

Sonya met me in the prison classroom. In anticipation of a new student, I posted Jaylen’s parrots, travel posters, pictures of presidents listing their failures before they took office. Hello, she said, reaching her cuffed wrists out to me. I am Jaylen’s mother.

All this before coffee. All this after a DUI.

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pokemonsimp · 4 years ago

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Hi okay so i found this website called Hello Japan through the last post i reblogged (with the Leon Doll) and please do enjoy me going through it- if not feel free to scroll on by!

first off, some starter boys— and SCORBUNNY ARE YOU OKAY?? sweetie i will save u i swear ALSO THAT FURRET CUSHION??? L O V E it i understand why it’s out of stock—

these Switch covers have caught my eye— 👀 they have Leon and Raihan too- but the reason this is here is bc they have a lot of Gloria/Yuuri merch but it’s all with Sobble, please give us some Scorbunny and Grookey for us fire users and the grass users—

hEres the Leon plush and also Raihan?? THEY DO BE LOOKING ✨✨F I N E✨✨ Piers is so angry i love it. very sad they don’t have any Hop or Bede stuff tho :((( they have marnie and she’s absolute adorable but would love my wooloo childhood bff and angry fairy boy.

i’m assuming these are phone cases— and did they make these for me?? cuz i swear i am L O V I N G THE SUN AND MOON VERSION!! (left) they even have my baby Muku on it 🥺🥺🥺 (Muku is the name of my Rowlet, which is my starter for Sun & Moon)

The KEYCHARMS I CANT AND I WANT- also this one toel of Raboot makes me love him. Also rlly off topic- but i just heard this Spanish ad while typing this and it was super sad sounding with the music and everything (cant speak spanish YET) and all i could do was laugh when i imagined Raboot having an internal dialogue.

socks? yeah pretty ace BUT PLEASE GIVE ME THAT SCORBUNNY KEYCHAIN- LIKE I REALLY NEED THAT. and i will be asking bc i really bet they won’t last till christmas, JUDT LIKE THE SOBBLE KEYCHAIN

this is here only because ball guy is a plush. i question why, and who would want to buy since he is pretty terrifying to me- but if he your type go buy him then lolol

how did i not expect snom to be sold out?? also that hatenna is adorable. wish they had a wooloo plush- i really love wooloo :((

Hey hey! thanks for reading till the end lolol. there is so much text and photos on this post that my keyboard is legitimately lagging. Anyways i hope you enjoy the mini rant, and i hope this helped you find a new pokémon store lolol. anyways plantonic love to you all and sayonara! <3

#pkmn

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bolbianddolanhouse · 4 years ago

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Book 2 FAQ!

Book 1 FAQ Beginning of Book 2

Dang y’all, 14 chapters done for Book 2! It’s been a little bit of a struggle to hash them out on time BUT I deliver. I’ve asked, y’all keyboard smashed in my inbox...let’s get INTO IT!

4 KIDS?!

Yep. And all 4 of them are full of personality! I guess I dreamt them up to convey all of the unspoken parts of the My Hero universe (canon or not).

Are the kid’s names in relation to their abilities?

No unfortunately, they’re names are based on their personalities/the major event that happened around the time they were born (no spoilers about it tho! Gotta read book 3 to know why!). Lili Perla is based off of Pearl from Steven Universe and their character type. Iwata El Roca is a nod to Luchador’s names and a character that passed away in the AU to honor them. Tensei Oro is a play on their family position, Tensei was the first born twin and his uncle was the first born, Oro is spanish for ‘gold’ and it’s a play on being first (ya know, because they give gold medals for 1st place!). Hanaka Rosa is a double trope name, Hanaka (Japanese: hana- flower, ka- power) is a nod to the tough girls with flower names in anime and Rosa (spanish: Rose) is a name used in telenovelas as the woman that causes all the romantic tension. I did the whole Japanese first name, Spanish middle name because thats what I want to do when I do have kids.

Why did Mineta have to be in this AU?

I hear you! The thing is that I DREAMT it like this. He’s the slightly incompetent teacher that gets dunked on by the parents. Good news is that he’s single and isn’t as gross in this part of the AU. He’s this AU’s punching bag if you will.

It was weird when you wrote in hate-crime/dorm incident bc I didn’t think about it that way...Why did you decide to explore it?

That part felt important to me to write. Yes the canon shows like actual crimes of different intensities, but not nessatreily hate-crimes done in schools. As you know, being LGBTQA+ in grade school is a terrifying thing to express if don’t want to stand out. The constant fear of peers judging you, bullies hurting you and teachers that seemingly don’t care about you if you come out is enough to silence anybody. Imagine that but in a hero school?! The hate-crime would be a villainous act and the culprit would have to do desperate measures to make sure nobody rats on them to maintain a clean image/record. Plus on the flip side, any ally that stands up for their oppressed peer is hailed the hero but they wouldn’t have to stand up for them if there were real consequences and punishment for the bullies. So in the AU, I wrote it how I’d want such hate-crimes to be handled. Not only justice but also accommodations for the victim.

The Mcdonalds order cracks me up! What is your Mcdonalds order?

I throughly enjoyed the Mcdonalds order part too. It’s a nod to the proposal in Book 1 when they went to Mcdonalds before the peer over. I wrote it to show that the family goes every now and then. My order is: Triple Cheeseburger, Large fries, Large sweet tea, 2 sausage and egg McMuffins & a cone. And yes, there will be a Mcdonalds order for every child because it drives the plot.

Will there be more interactions with the pro heroes from the canon series?

YES! Though old, theres more interactions planned with them. Of course, it’s all in Book 3 (trying not to spoil anything!).

Is it spoiler if you tell us if your kids (or one of them) becomes a villain?

I’ll tell y’all right now....NONE of my kids becomes a villain. It might look like one or two of them might from the way I wrote them but they’re just latina.

Will one of your kids be the next Ingenium?

Yes but I won’t tell you which one. But I can’t wait to reveal it to y'all!

I see all the call-backs to your self insert character’s past...Is it alluding to the conclusion?

I dreamt it as such and I fixed it in writing as a way to come full circle. Notice that Lili didn’t get any of her mom’s past from her mom? It wasn’t until when she confronted her on the couch in chapter 13. Even then, it wasn’t the full story nor did it fill in all the cracks and time skips after her mom’s time at UA. In Book 3, we explore more of the past. The conclusion is yet to be revealed.

How big is that house?!

It’s a little hard to explain? I want to say its big but parts of the house are disproportionate. It’s a two story house with no attic nor basement, 3 bath room, Master bedroom, 2 large bedrooms, office space, guest room, full kitchen, dining room, large living room, three car garage and a decent size backyard. What I’m trying to say that it’s big enough for that chaotic ass family.

Where’s Aizawa?!

Let the mans rest! He’s alive but he’s busy being a grandpa and taking naps.

Canon villains OwO?

Y’all ate UP the Dabi surrender in Book 1 and his little mention in Book 2. But in this AU (not to spoil anything to anime only and manga dabblers) the League of Villains are still rampant but dispersed. In Book 3 (and part of Book 4) they pop in to drive the plot from a canon storyline. In the series, the rookie Hawks has been seen as a double agent and exposes a corrupt Hero Society. Same concept but in this AU, Hawks has gone missing when he failed to kill Best Jeanist. Here’s where the kids go into play BUT more on that as the plot progresses!

I really want to see art of these OCs! I wanna see how Iida’s genes transferred over to his kids!

I hear y'all! I’ve slid into DM during commission windows and have the means to pay for some line art at least...but with no responses. I’ve got my self insert character done in this post if you wanna check it out plus the artist was super sweet during the whole process. I may commission them again when they got a window of commissions open. But I may do a lineart of the kid’s faces in the near future.

What if....hypothetically....Shinso stayed?

Oh boy, okay so the Shinso stans have BOMBARDED my asks since the last arc of Book 1. So what if Shinso stayed...obviously I wouldn’t have 4 kids, just the one that we were gonna have. We wouldn’t be married and overall just be loveless the more we see our friends get married and start families. The company would still be there but delayed by 5 years or so. Our son would grow up to convince me and Shinso to separate when they get at around High school age. Tenya still wouldn’t have said anything but done the reunited part differently. I would’ve considered cheating but morals would’ve stopped me. Eventually, when our son decides to move out, we’d stay as housemates and basically die alone....aren’t you glad this AU isn’t such a downer?! Luckily things are patched up with my self insert and Shinso, because he comes into play in Book 3!

Eri Nurse! In your AU!

Yup! I’ve actually read some NurseEri! AUs on twitter and Tumblr (btw, some of y’all that like my posts have good taste in fics!) and it manifested in my dreams and created UA Nurse Eri. She shows up a few more times in the AU, so don’t fret if Eri is your fave.

Is it okay if I follow you on a different platform? Do you have another social media that I can follow you on?

You can follow me on Twitter (@oketsusama). It’s my personal twitter that I repost memes and get my news from. So it’s not as poppin as my Tumblr, but at least it’s AU free over there lmao.

What’s you favorite rare pair in the My Hero canon storyline?

Oh! and DON’T hate me, but I stan the Sero x Iida rare pair! There’s crumbs of the pair on twitter and here but the ones that I did read got me in tears. If you haven’t seen this tag on twitter and Tumblr, DO IT! The one on twitter had a lot of angst in it and it got me HOOKED on some of that goofball with their geeky partner energy.

Not a question, but I like your //Palma-sama Speaks in the tags. They’re funny and makes your posts that much more personalized.

I will cry! Thanks for reading that far! I like doing the ‘talking in the tags’ thing to basically point out the callbacks to new readers that stumbled upon that chapter of the AU.

How long is this AU?!

It’s quite long BUT the ending is marvelous, trust.

============================================

Thanks for reading! That’s all the asks for now, keep asking them! I love reading them. Next is the finale of Book 2! Everything will still come out 2-3 days of each other until further notice. Stay safe, drink water!

-Palma-Sama

#bnha #mha #faq 2 #self insert au #not canon #will update regularly #ask me anything #Book 2

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somekeepsakes · 5 years ago

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German interview with Peter (May 20, 2019) on drugs, love and new beginnings

I noticed that another version of the interview with Peter which @koidivisions translated some weeks back has emerged. The newer, longer, and presumably full(?) version can be found here. I’m only adding the translation for the bits that were missing in the earlier version. Since there are quite a few of them, maybe some of you are interested in reading the entire thing.

cut cut cut and off you go

Why did Hamburg change you so much? I felt privileged that Johann Scheerer opened his door for me. He trusted me.

He said: "You may live in the apartment and use the studio." He gave me his house key at a time when not even my own family would have trusted me with a key. Yes, it was a wonderful time in Hamburg! It was a shame that there was such resentment between my management at that time and the people from Clouds Hill as, much to the dismay of my management, there was someone who trusted me; that I stayed in Germany, recorded music, and took more control.

Did you feel something close to freedom? Yes, I believe so, there were no paparazzi lurking around every corner. And doing spontaneous gigs in the Golem, this wickedly expensive place, was great. I loved it there.

For some people, you’re a gifted song poet, whereas others tend to associate you with your drug antics. Yes, they believe me to be a caricature. There are even people who are disappointed when they meet me and I’m not all fucked up. This is really sad. But, then, it used to be like that for a long time. There used to be all these negative stories about me that had a nasty pic of me attached to them all the time.

And on the few days where I was alright, they manipulated the picture, or took one of me sneezing. This really killed me. It inwardly killed me.

And everything went hand in hand… The police were obsessed with getting hold of me. They arrested me repeatedly. That made me feel as if I was a dangerous person or a threat to society. That was sheer insanity.

But you’re out of the woods now? That’d be wonderful. But addiction is an illness – a mental illness. It’s self-destructive…

How safe are you feeling right now? Difficult to say. I’m feeling safe. But if I think about it, I don’t actually know what feeling safe means. At least I don’t want to go back to where I was.

[Regarding Margate] But why did you buy a hotel there? Because it was so cheap, so incredibly cheap!

It was said to be the most rundown hotel in Kent or even in England. That’s not entirely fair. The Nigerian woman who ran it had a bad reputation because she used to kick people out of the hotel whenever they complained. But saying that it was the worst hotel… No, I went to one in Aberdeen once which was worse!

And you invested money in yours? Sure, the whole thing was Carl’s idea. He decided that The Libertines needed headquarters. He then found this old five-storey townhouse. He didn’t pay me for five festival gigs for he knows I’m prone to wasting money. The others saved their share. And now I’m one of six investors.

Our studio has already been finished, and the hotel is supposed to come about bit by bit. The liquor licence is also there already so that Carl is able to open a bar beneath the hotel. The bar is going to be called "Wasteland" like the book by T.S. Eliot who lived four doors away. His father owned a bed and breakfast in Margate 100 years ago.

It’s supposed to become something similar to Andy Warhol’s "Factory". The Margate version of it. Carl wants to gradually set it up in a way so that different artists will be able to live and work under the same roof.

You’re said to have started a company for that business. I’ve read that article, too. What a load of bollocks! It said that I was worth 5.3 million pounds – crazy! Carl was really angry when he read that since he’s the businessman among the two of us. I would be completely unfit for a thing like that.

[Regarding the cat incident] There’ve been worse stories about you. And still, you were angry about it? Sure, because it was this incident that brought paparazzi to my doorstep again. That was the first time in two years, prior to that, everything was peaceful. There were no negative stories about me. And even on this day, I was kind towards the photographers. But they didn’t like that.

They claimed that I stood there in the doorway laughing. It broke my heart cause I love animals. And I love cats.

Does the sea inspire you? Tremendously! Every morning when I step outside. The light is unbelievable and the dark, wild sea – it’s calling for me. Sometimes, that’s dangerous. I’d like to run naked into the sea.

But so far you haven’t answered the call? I will do so in summer. Due to their arctic background, my dogs are used to freezing temperatures. They can step into the water when it’s cold, and they love it. But it’s not as nice as it may sound for humans in Margate.

In what way? We get these weird weather fronts. Every ten years, über-storms are causing serious damage. Just last week, the roof of the huge Tesco market got blown away, just like that. The buildings can take a lot but there are also lots of tunnels beneath the bases of the houses which were constructed in old smuggler times. That’s why the whole thing is unstable and causes buildings to collapse. It really is a weird place, Margate.

[Regarding the Puta Madres album] It probably won’t make you rich. That’s the reason why Drew isn’t part of the band. He preferred to make money while touring with Liam Gallagher. But it’s not always about money even if I’m not less greedy than others.

But I also know what damage money can cause. I need to take care of myself so that I’m not going to suffer from tunnel vision and therefore miss the genuine things that inspired me at a time when I didn’t have any money. If we make any money with that, which would be great for us, we’re going to build our own studio.

You’ve recorded the album overlooking a fishing village in the municipality of Étretat in the Normandy. Why not in Margate? Because Carl insisted that the new studio would be Libertines only. So we went to France where the family of our keyboarder Katia lives. That was great because we were able to record the album within a few days. Just like the Beatles did with their first album: one microphone in the room, press record, play the songs, and go back home.

[Regarding Someone Else To Be] Why do you quote Oasis in this particular song? "Please don’t put your life in the hands of a rock’n’roll band" has always been one of my favourite lines from a song. The warning it includes is probably justified.

[Regarding his stance on relationships] As complicated as Brexit? That is indeed complicated for the Puta Madres as so many nationalities come together in this band! We need to move freely, otherwise the knell will sound for us. But we’ll somehow find our way to France, Spain and Germany.

Where does the funny "Puta Madres" band name which literally translates as "goddamn mothers" come from by the way ? "Ah, it’s the puta madre!" – our drummer Rafa used to say that very often in the beginning when he referred to something positive as well as to something negative or something inbetween.

I didn’t really know what it meant but thought we might use that as our band name. Everyone says that in Spain and South America and it means "fucking hell".

It’s a casual curse word like "motherfuckers". It means everything and nothing. Technically speaking, it refers to the mother of a prostitute.

Do you speak Spanish? Sí. There’s a bit of German, a bit of Spanish, and a bit of French on the album.

How are your German skills? (in German) Not that good.

Do you have a favourite German word? Radiergummi! And I also like Creutzfeldt-Jakob and Methadon.

You presumably were given the latter as a substitute during rehab? Yeah, sure, horrible stuff. Sickly sweet. I call it the bad absinth.

Do you still think about Amy Winehouse? Yes, often. Constantly, actually. I met a girl called Jade Goldsworthy, an incredible singer. She reminds me so much of Amy. She hasn’t recorded anything yet, we’ve only met. But I’m planning to release something with her. We’re working on it. Amy would’ve loved her. I’m sure of that.

And The Libertines will continue as well? Of course, forever! Carl and I are stronger than ever.

Are you working on the new Libertines record at the moment? Yeah, but it was all a bit tragic. Ollie, The Prodigy’s guitarist, came round and wanted to help Carl and me with writing and producing. The next day, the news of Keith’s death – who was also a friend of Carl’s – broke. He committed suicide. The last thing Ollie texted Keith was a picture of my dogs as Keith was a fellow husky lover. And Keith replied saying how beautiful they were. And the next day, he hanged himself. We haven’t seen Ollie since.

How did you react to Flint’s death? I listened to all the old Prodigy records. There’s unbelievably good stuff among them, sometimes scaringly sinister.

Given the many deaths surrounding you, do you ask yourself why you’re still alive? No, I don’t think about that.

There are lots of discussions going on at the moment about whether it’s appropriate for radio stations to still play Michael Jackson songs or not. How do you see it: Should we separate an artist’s work from the artist? Wow – that’s a damn good question! His songs are being played every few seconds somewhere in the world. It’s amazing music, some of the best songs ever written. It’d be a fucked-up situation if he’s guilty… A part of me would die – a major part of my childhood. I loved his music.

Did you see the documentary? No, the film might have a significant impact on me – I can’t bring myself to watch it at the moment. I need to be careful with it, it’s too important. Michael Jackson used to be such an important factor in my life. It’s similar to Woody Allen: He’s a great filmmaker, he’s got a good sense of humour. It would annihilate so much culture if we didn’t separate an artist’s work from the private individual. But it’s tricky.

#Pete Doherty #The Libertines

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alwayschoosechocolate · 6 years ago

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Are we even speaking the same language? (Part 1)

Sophie moves to Seoul to become a language assistant at one of Seouls biggest music companies. Even though her Korean is far from perfect, she quickly seems to get along with some of the biggest stars in the company. But the language might not be the only barrier, she has to overcome.

Characters: All seven members of BTS, paring between Namjoon x main character, short mention of the members of TxT

Word count: 2,944

Genre: romance, angst, (idk yet)

Comments: When the dialog is written in cursive, it’s in Korean.

This is my very first time ever posting anything I’ve written. I don’t even know how to describe it, but this story has been rummaging in my head for a few days now, and I just had to get it out somewhere, so here you go!

If it gets a good response, I’ll post more - it might get long though! You have been warned!

Masterpost with the other parts of the story, can be found here (x)

After giving her the meeting and practicing schedules, he paused for a moment, as if to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.

“That should be everything.” He smiled at her. “Have you gotten a tour of the building yet?”

“No, I’ve only seen the foyer and this floor.” She said sheepishly, still taken aback by the size of the company, whose CEO she was currently speaking to.

“Ah, I’ll get someone to give you a tour – you need to know where the studios and the meeting rooms are.” He rose from his chair and led her out of his office. The open floor working space was buzzing with phone conversations, clicking of keyboards and the rustling of papers. He walked directly over to a young foreign looking woman, who was just finishing her conversation on the phone.

“Cathrine, would you mind giving Sophie here a tour of the building? She is also going to be part of the language and communications department, so I thought you would know best, what’s relevant to her?” He introduced them to each other, and after having ensured, that Sophie had her employee card, he left them, to go back to his office.

Cathrine turned to Sophie and gave her a bright smile.

“Welcome to the company! Is this your first day?” Her American accent rang thick in Sophies ears.

�� “Try first hour.” Sophie looked at her shyly. Cathrine caught sight of her coat and bag in her hands.

“Oh! Look, I’ll show you, where your desk is, and where you can keep your coat. Then we can take a cup of coffee, before I show you the rest, yeah?” Sophie smiled appreciatively to her.

“That would be amazing. Thank you!”

After having placed her things at her new desk, across the office island from Cathrine, they made their way to the break-room.

“So how long have you been in Seoul?” Cathrine asked, settling on the couch with the cappuccino in her hands.

“I actually just arrived last week.” Sophie took a trying sip of the black coffee, before putting it down on the coffee table in front of her. It was still too hot to drink.

“Wow! Well, welcome to the city then! If you need any tips about the city and want to grab some food or a drink together, just ask. I would love to help you feel at home here. The city is huge and can be a bit confusing.” Cathrine gave a small laugh at her last statement. Sophie giggled along, thinking about how she got lost the day before looking for a supermarket.

“I might just take you up on that!”

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where are you from? Your English is really good, but it’s not your native language is it?” Cathrine cocked her head a little to the side.

Sophie smiled, pretty use to the question after having been living abroad since age 22. “No, it’s not. I’m Danish.” She said a little hesitantly, not completely sure, if Cathrine would know where Denmark was.

“Ah, cool. So Scandinavia. We did a traveling segment with one of the groups in Scandinavia a few years back.” She paused to think for a moment. “But I think they only went to Sweden, Norway and Finland. It was so beautiful there!” Sophie wanted to correct her, seeing how Finland wasn’t part of Scandinavia, but she bit down her response. Maybe it wasn’t the best first impressions to give. Instead she just agreed with her on the beauty of the other Nordic countries.

“So how is your Korean? I’m guessing you know more than just English and Danish, since they hired you to help with communication here?” Cathrine laughed a little. “My Korean still needs some work, but it’s getting better. It’s easier to learn here, than it was back home.” Her nose scrunched slightly when she laughed. Sophie liked the easy-going energy, Cathrine was giving off. It made her feel less nervous.

“Well, I wouldn’t say my Korean is that good. I’m still learning, definitely, but I can get around somewhat. And gestures help a lot!” As if to express what she meant, she flailed her arms around a bit, acting out how she had asked where the eggs where, in the grocery store yesterday. They both started laughing.

“But no, I speak Danish, English and German fluently. My French is coming along slowly, but I’m not near being fluent in that.” Sophie gave a little laugh.

The fact that she had managed to land a job as a language assistant at a huge music agency in South Korea, was still a bit surreal to her. They had told her, that her broad knowledge of languages and her experience in communication, was why they had hired her. She was still not sure, if her knowledge would be enough to live up to their expectations, but she was willing to give it a try. She picked up her paper coffee cup, the liquid now at a temperature, where she could drink it.

“Ah, cool. I don’t know if they told you, but they offer Korean classes here at the office for us, international workers.”

She put intonation on the last part and wiggled her eyebrows at her, as if to state that they were the cool kids at the school. Sophie laughed at her gimmicks and snuck a look around the room. It was completely empty say for them. There were sofas pushed to walls along one side, and small café tables littering the floor plan. The small tea kitchen taking up the opposite wall from where Sophie and Cathrine were sitting in front of the window. She turned back towards Cathrine and smiled at her.

“So what about you? Do you know more languages?” Sophie tried asking it in an innocent and curious tone, but immediately thought, how it could come off as arrogant, after just having listed her own languages.

“I do! I speak Spanish fluently as well – my mom is Spanish, and my dad is American. So Spanish is my mother tongue, English my father tongue, and I think Korean is my tongue.” She smiled softly and proudly at her own joke, but it was clear that she had thought about this several times before, and really felt this way.

“I understand. Everyone in my family is Danish, so I wasn’t really exposed to any other language before I started learning English in school. But I relate more to other languages. I love learning new languages.” Sophie locked eyes with Cathrine and smiled at her. She returned her smile with a grin.

“I am sure, we are going to get along just great!”, she said. “Alright, did you finish your coffee?”

Sophie emptied her cup and lifted it to indicate, that she was done.

“Great! Then I can show you around.” Cathrine practically bounced up from the sofa, and grabbed their empty cups, to throw them out on the way to the door. She held it open for Sophie.

“After you.”, she said with a comic half bow. Sophie laughed and gave a small bow back, before stepping into the hallway.

As they made their way towards the elevator, Cathrine started explaining how the building was divided on different floors. The ground floor being only the reception and some bathrooms. Then came the meeting rooms made for press conferences and bigger events. Then followed one floor of dance studios. Then two floors of music studios. And finally, the top three floors, which was for office spaces and internal meetings. They were currently on the top floor. Cathrine pressed the button for the 3. Floor.

“I’ll show you the dance studios first. There’s probably someone practicing, so we might not be able to go in, but then you’ll know where they are.”

The elevator slowly started moving down. Cathrine suddenly turned towards her.

“Oh. By the way, I’m sure someone already told you, but just to make sure. We’re not allowed to release any information about the artists here to anyone outside of the company, unless they are here to meet with them, and have an appointment.”

Her brown eyes searched through Sophies green eyes, as if to look for a sliver of doubt or confusion but found none.

“I know, I had to sign a security and privacy contract before coming here.”

She gave Cathrine a reassuring smile, to let her know, that she understood the secrecy. Cathrines face split in a huge grin.

“Perfect!” The elevator doors slide open, and Sophie could already hear the music from some of the different rooms. They walked down a corridor with doors on both sides leading in to different practice studios.

“Okay, so every group or artist has their own studio, that they can use as they like.”

Cathrine stopped in front of a half open door and peered in.

“Hey guys, is it okay, if I show Sophie your dance studio? She is new to the company.” Some affirming answers could be heard in different languages. Cathrine shot her a big smile, and practically dragged her into the room.

“Sophie, this is one of our groups, Tomorrow x Together. They just recently debuted. Guys, this is Sophie.”

Sophie waved awkwardly, not sure if they would understand her English. However, they all smiled back and waved before introducing themselves. Some in English some in Korean. Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun and Huening Kai. Sophie was pretty sure she would have troubles remembering the names of all the artists of the company, so she made a mental note of the group name, so she could look up pictures and such, when she came home. The guys went back to practicing their choreography in front of the big mirrors adorning one side of the room. Cathrine told Sophie a bit about the group and how their schedule was, before they waved goodbye to the group and left the room again.

“So that was the dance studios. We don’t spend that much time here, but it’s good to know where they are.” She smiled at Sophie. “Let’s go see the music studios, " she said, as they moved towards the elevator. While they were waiting for the lift, Cathrine greeted a small group of people, who walked by. “There is always a lot of people and energy here.”, she said with a smile. “I love coming here.”

As they got in the lift, Cathrine looked briefly at her watch. “Ah okay. I think, there might be some people recording now, so we probably can’t see the recording booths, but we might be able to see some of the studios. Now is your time to impress with your Korean.” Cathrine shot her a wink. “Not all the artists speak English – they understand most of it, but we might as well practice our Korean.”, she said with a shrug.

The elevator opened to a different floor, with two hallways. There were small signs either on the different doors or next to them. In front of the doors, every studio had gotten a little bit decorated with either a mat, shoe rack, toys or something like that. It looked like the kind of hallway you would find at a dorm. Each person’s personality having spilled a little bit into the hallway, as if the small rooms couldn’t contain it.

Cathrine walked down the hallway on the right, rounding a corner, and halting in front of a door, with a small sign saying “HopeWorld”. The area in front of the door looked completely empty next to the display of dolls and figures in varying sizes that took up the space of the studio next to it. “Rkive” it said on the door. Sophie was taken aback by the amount of colors there. Cathrine giggled at her expression.

“Yeah, RM likes colors. He’s a sweetheart. You’ll get to meet him eventually. He comes up to the offices quite often, you know being the leader of BTS and all.”

Sophie giggled a little, shook her head and pointed at the door in front of them. “So whose studio is this?”

“This is J-Hope’s studio. He’s also in BTS. I’m guessing he’s here, since their dance studio was empty.” Cathrine said as she knocked.

They heard shuffling on the other side of the door, and then it opened to reveal a guy dressed in an oversized sweater, sweatpants and a bucket hat.

“Hey Cathrine! What’s up?” He asked her in Korean.

“Hey Hoseok. This is Sophie. She is new. I’m showing her around.”

Sophie understood what they where saying, but as J-hopes gaze fell on her, she was dreading using her own very limited Korean.

“Hi Sophie. I’m J-hope, or Hoseok, if you like. Do you speak Korean?”

J-hope having of course noticed that she didn’t look Korean, wanted to make sure, that Sophie understood him.

“Hi. I speak a little Korean. Understand more than I speak.”, she managed to say in short sentences.

He sent her a breathtaking smile, and his eyes crinkled as he did.

“Ah cool. So, what’s up? Are you giving her a tour?”, he said this time directing the question at Cathrine.

She nodded. “Yeah, I wanted to show her your dancing, but you weren’t there.” She teased him with a smile, obviously pretty close with him.

He laughed and shook his head.

“Ah, I was there an hour ago, hence the clothes,” he said motioning to his outfit. “But I needed to work on a track for the new album. Do you want to hear?” He asked as he opened the door further, inviting them in.

“Sure.” Cathrine looked at Sophie with a smile, and motioned for her to remove her shoes before stepping in. She immediately sat down on the couch in the studio and gestured for Sophie to join her.

“So, what kind of music is this track? Hip-Hop? Pop? Dance?” Cathrine asked curiously, crossing her legs under her on the couch. She clearly felt comfortable in here. Sophie envied her relaxed attitude, as she was still debating how it would be most natural for her to sit.

“Well, it’s my solo song, so it has kind of a dancy vibe, but actually quieter compared to what I normally do.” Hoseok told her with a shy smile. “That means that I sing a bit more than usually.”

“Ah, but you sing really well, Hoseok.” Cathrine reassured him, sending him a small smile. He smiled back at her. He turned around to the computer, clicked around a bit and then the music started. Sophie, who had been preoccupied with taking in the colorful space, that was Hoseoks studio, suddenly looked up when she heard the music. She had listened at little to the different groups before coming to Seoul, so she would know what kind of music they made, but it was a different experience sitting on the couch in one of the studios and listening to a raw track, with one of said artists. The music had a sad tone to it, but somehow still incorporated a happy beat, giving off vibes of a something amazing, that you knew where ending soon. Like the last few hours of a vacation before going home. Or the last days Sophie had spent with her friends back in Europe, before leaving for Seoul. The vocal was smooth and rhythmic, mirroring the tone of the song. Sophie focused on the stuffed flamingo in the corner, while she tried to make out as many of the lyrics as possible. It wasn’t easy though. Her Korean wasn’t good enough for that yet. She did catch something about being more yourself with that person, hiding from reality and being afraid of a mirror without that person next to you. Sophie was pretty sure, that the lyrics were really deep and meaningful, and she would have loved to be able to understand them better. She got a bit annoyed with herself for not understanding more.

The last note rang out, and she looked up. Hoseok were looking at both of them, waiting for a response.

“Hoseok, that was beautiful. Did you write that yourself?” Cathrine asked him.

“I wrote most of it, yeah. Namjoon helped me with some of it.” He answered proudly. He looked at Sophie.

“What did you think?”

Sophie wanted to tell him, that it was a moving song, that she wanted to understand the lyrics better, that she loved the bridge. However, the language limited her.

“It was beautiful.”, she said and gave him a smile and thumbs up, to make sure he knew, that she liked it.

He smiled back at her. “Thank you.”

Cathrine stood up, “Hoseok, we have to get back to work, but thanks for showing us the song. It was amazing.” She told him with a big smile and opened the door. Sophie scrambled to her feet and hurried after her out of the studio, putting on her shoes, that she had left in front of the door.

“Alright, I’ll see you soon. Bye Noona.” Hoseok waved at both of you, and then Cathrine closed the door.

“You seemed pretty close with him?” Sophie asked shyly. Cathrine hummed and nodded, as they made their way towards the elevator.

“Yeah, I’ve been here two years now, and I’ve helped BTS with their lyrics and messages a lot. They have RM, who is fluent in English, but they always want to make sure, that it’s proper English, so I get to help them from time to time.” She smiled at Sophie. “They are all really nice guys. I also hang out with them outside of work every now and then.”

// Part 2 //

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lovemesomerafael · 5 years ago

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EL AMOR TODO LO PUEDE Chapter 23: Say Anything

I apologize; I didn’t keep track of who posted this fabulous pic, if it’s you, please let me know so I can give you credit.

Chapters 1-20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22

As he waited for the elevator, Barba saw Laura Parker enter the apartment building. This was a new experience; they had not run into one another here since they’d learned they both lived in this building. Since there was nobody else on the elevator, he held it for her.

A little blinded by the difference between the late afternoon sun and the dim lobby of the building, she didn’t see him holding the elevator until she was close.

“Hey, thanks,” she greeted him, mentally kicking herself for sounding so stupidly cheerful.

As they rode up toward their floors, she turned to him suddenly and asked, “Would you happen to have a socket wrench?”

“Socket wrench,” he repeated, a little thrown by the question.

“Ikea cabinet. I’ve already cried twice.”

Barba laughed, although he didn’t see the connection between a socket wrench and building anything from Ikea. He was shocked to hear his own voice say, “I have a socket wrench. I’ll bring it by.” I’ll do what? Where had that come from?

“8D.”

“I remember.”

Half an hour later, Laura heard him knock. It was disorienting to think that A.D.A. Barba could be standing outside her apartment door but, as she looked through the peephole, there he was, socket set in hand. Despite her nervousness, she tried to appear relaxed and welcoming as she opened the door. Her smile faltered a little when she saw that he was wearing a soft-looking black T-shirt and black jeans. He had a noticeable five O’clock shadow that added to the overall sexily casual picture. He looked so good she was momentarily unable to speak.

“Socket wrench,” he said, holding the metal box out to her.

“Thanks.” She took it from him. “Do you, um… want to come in?”

“And build your cabinet for you? No, thanks.” Did she actually look disappointed? He realized the idea of disappointing her caused a pang in his heart. Advertencia. Peligro.[1] Again he had the disconcerting experience of hearing his voice saying something his brain had not planned. “But I’d be willing to watch and kibbutz.”

“You can watch. No kibbutzing.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“Then I can’t promise I won’t make you build the cabinet.”

Barba smiled crookedly, then said, “We gonna negotiate this in the hallway?”

Laura stepped aside so he could enter. As he stepped by her, he looked down at her jeans, which had a large hole in the right knee, and a smaller one on the left. The jeans were old Levi’s, the type made of real, thick denim, and were well broken in. The seams were nearly white, and the holes were obviously from wear, rather than part of the design of the jeans. Something about the way the jeans fit, and the tantalizing glimpse of her legs through the holes was disturbing to Barba. The strip of skin that kept appearing between the waistband of her jeans and her fitted yellow T-shirt didn’t help.

“Rabid wolverines?” He asked, grinning down at the holes in her jeans.

“Funny,” she answered drily.

Her apartment still had boxes here and there, filled with books and other things she didn’t have a place to store yet. As she’d said, there wasn’t much furniture, just a soft, comfortable-looking blue couch. He was interested in the keyboard and guitar in a corner.

“You play?”

“About as well as I speak Spanish,” she answered, smirking.

He rolled his eyes. So she wasn’t done teasing him about that.

A long, torn cardboard box had been tossed into a corner, and piles of wooden planks sat in the center of the room. The cabinet hardware was spread haphazardly, but at least each piece was visible. The only two pieces of the cabinet hooked together so far were obviously incorrectly joined and sitting crookedly on the floor. Barba looked at Laura with an eyebrow cocked questioningly.

“What?” Laura asked, holding up the instruction booklet. “The instructions are in Swedish!”

Rafael took it from her. “The instructions are pictures.”

“Well, the pictures are in Swedish.”

“Detective.” Rafael said, using his cross-examination voice. “Did you intentionally invite me down to your apartment on a pretext to get me to build your cabinet for you?”

“No,” she said.

He simply looked at her.

“I didn’t! I just asked you for a socket wrench.”

“Which, by the way, would be of no use in building this cabinet.”

“Yes, it will. There’s these little metal things and you have to twist them in.”

“With a wrench. Which comes with the cabinet.”

“So that’s what the weird-shaped holes are for. I wondered about that.”

His expressionless stare was both amusing and sexy. How did he manage that?

“OK, fine, so I suck at Ikea! You found out my shameful secret. Feel free to mock me for the next 3 to 5 years.”

“I intend to,” he smirked. The pleased, teasing expression in his eyes caused her to catch her breath for the second time in less than five minutes.

When she could speak, her voice was serious. “Listen. I admit I’m pathetic at this stuff,” she gestured at the floor. “But if I was going to ask you to help me, I’d have asked you straight up. I’m not here for games like that.”

He just shrugged. “OK. Tell you what. You buy dinner, I’ll help with this masterpiece here. Deal?” ¿Por qué de repente no tengo control sobre lo que digo? Podría necesitar un médico.[2]

Laura looked skeptical. “Doesn’t that make me guilty of…”

“No. I retract the accusation. You didn’t lure me here to build your cabinet, and now I’m offering to do it for… souvlaki. Do we have a deal?”

”We have a deal.” The smile she gave him was worth building several pieces of furniture. As she pulled menus from a drawer to order dinner, he began to organize the materials for the cabinet. He looked over at her as she sifted through the handful of menus, again noticing the way her simple jeans and T-shirt accentuated her lithe, athletic frame.

Barba knelt on the floor and began to separate the pieces Laura had put together. While his back was turned, Laura took the opportunity to appreciate the fit of his jeans. Who knew Barba even owned jeans? She found the menu for a nearby Greek restaurant and brought it to the couch where she read it to him and, for the next five minutes, they negotiated dinner. As Laura called in their order, she tried to absorb the fact that Rafael Barba was in her living room building an Ikea cabinet, and he had asked her to have dinner with him. Hadn’t he? Did that count as asking her to have dinner with him? What the hell. I’m not a kid. Why am I actually nervous right now?

Once dinner was ordered, she went over to sit next to him on the floor. “So, how is this gonna work?”

He glanced at her before picking up two pieces of the cabinet and lying them side by side. “If I need any help, I’ll let you know.”

“So, what? I just watch you build a cabinet?”

“Don’t take this personally, Detective, but I think that’s best for everyone.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “So what do I do?”

“Talk to me. Tell me how an ER nurse in Chicago becomes a cop in New York. You said it was a long story, and we appear to have some time. Hand me that round thing over there.”

“Oh, boy. Well, I, uh… I’m a recovering alcoholic. The ‘drive your life off a cliff and keep your foot on the gas’ kind.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Bring me that piece over there. So… go on.”

Barba worked on the cabinet while Laura gave him the short version of her story. The food arrived just as she was finishing, at which point Laura remembered that she didn’t have a table. Of all the surprising things about that evening, the best was learning that Rafael Barba, urbane and eternally impeccable attorney, was perfectly happy eating dinner on the floor.

Looking for a topic of conversation as they sorted through the bags and Styrofoam containers, Laura said, “I heard a story about you winning a case by letting a guy choke you with a belt.”

He snorted. “That was my first SVU case, as a matter of fact.” He told her about the crime, and the trial, and how he had ended up being desperate enough to resort to such a longshot tactic. Not surprisingly for a man who told stories to juries for a living, he was a particularly entertaining storyteller.

“Where did you hear that story?”

“A friend of mine. You’ve actually met him, he works in your office. Peter Stone?”

Friend?

“Yes, I met him. Didn’t you both just come from Chicago?”

“We did. Together, as a matter of fact. We’re old friends.”

Old friends. Barba wanted to ask about a hundred questions, but didn’t know how to do that without appearing… interested. He was saved by Laura’s curiosity.

Finishing a bite of lamb, she said, “I feel like that Incel we questioned last week, telling you boring stories about me. What about you?”

“Tell you boring stories about me?” He grinned.

“I’d rather hear interesting ones, but if that’s the best you can do…”

For the rest of the time they ate dinner, Barba talked about growing up in the Bronx, telling sweet, funny stories about his childhood. Most of them were charmingly self-deprecating, like the ones about being a Catholic schoolboy menaced by bullies from the public school down the street, and his disastrous first year in Little League.

For the rest of the evening, they talked about nothing while Barba put the cabinet together, frequently asking Laura to hand him things or hold things. The odd situation started to feel normal. Comfortable. Pleasant. Conversation was easy and lively, with Barba’s quick wit and tendency to purposely provoke her keeping Laura laughing and looking for ways to tease back.

Were they… flirting with eachother? Was that what was happening? Laura was enchanted with him, she knew that. He was even better looking up close, and somehow the early experience of feeling beneath Barba’s notice made it all the more special that he’d chosen to spend time alone with her. And she really liked him. Whether or not he might be interested – and with each passing moment, she hoped more that he might be – she really enjoyed hanging out with him.

Barba was having very similar thoughts. In his case, however, the attraction was nowhere near as welcome. Barba didn’t date. That was that. He liked women as much as the next guy, but he liked them from afar. The price of getting involved, of opening his heart and making himself vulnerable, was just too high. Besides, he didn’t even know if he could have a relationship anymore. Maybe he had just lost that ability. He hoped so. But then what are you doing in this apartment letting yourself be captivated by this woman?

Together, they stood up the finished cabinet and wrestled it to its place. Laura looked a little dazzled. “You never even looked at the pictures.”

“I didn’t need to. It’s obvious how this stuff goes together.”

“Not to me.”

“Claro.”[3]

“You’re not gonna go all superior on me now, are you, Harvard?”

“About this? Yes.” That smirk again. There was an eye twinkle now, too. Laura felt lightheaded which, as a nurse, she understood resulted from all the blood in her body rushing south.

Barba couldn’t understand how someone who was clearly intelligent and capable could have such a complete inability to conceptualize how build-it-yourself furniture goes together, even with instructions. He found it fascinating and endearing, like a lot of things about her. Cállate, Barba. No esta pasando.[4]

As Laura began to clean up the bits of cardboard and torn little plastic bags from the floor, Barba prepared to leave. It was actually something of a relief to him. He needed to be alone, have a drink, and regain his senses.

“I need to get going,” he said, groaning and stretching out the kinks in his muscles from sitting on the floor for three hours. “Feliz noche,[5] Detective.”

“Hey, thank you. Really. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Neither do I. From a purely scientific point of view, it would’ve been fascinating to find out.”

She smiled the same small, adorable smile and rolled her eyes the same way she’d done all night when he’d made fun of her. It was definitely time for him to go.

“’Night. And thanks again. I’ll… see you at work, I guess.”

“Thanks for dinner. Que tengas buena noche.”[6]

As the door closed between them, both Barba and Laura wore thoughtful expressions and smiles that were a little bit silly. Both of them had thoroughly enjoyed the evening. Laura was happily excited about what might happen next. Rafael wasn’t.

[1] Warning. Danger.

[2] Why do I suddenly have no control over what I say? I may need a doctor.

[3] Clearly.

[4] Shut up, Barba. It’s not happening.

[5] Good night

[6] Have a good night.

#law & order svu #law & order: special victims unit #rafael barba #raul esparza #chicago pd #chicago fire #chicago med #Who knew building Ikea furniture was foreplay

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