#i have been having the busiest winter for no reason | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rudnitskaia · 6 months ago

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This note was supposed to appear in a Christmas fanfic, but after @acesandocs sent me an ask about RoMaunce "Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)" with an art request, I made a decision to post both the fic and the note much earlier. The fic is under the cut, enjoy the Christmas spirit in the middle of summer. :D

Bonus: the fic also tells the story of The Most Ridiculous Scarf's creation. x))

The Winter Wonder

Working until the last client was an awful practice.

Mau couldn't remember when she had gotten a good night's sleep. Hiding behind the storefront window, she rested her head on her hands folded on the counter and tried her best to keep from falling into slumber. She might have fallen asleep for real if it hadn't been for the cheerful music that was playing from the radio.

“Let's not disturb Miss Maura,” a cheerful whisper sounded barely audible next to Mau. A few coins tinkled quietly as they fell onto the counter, and two visitors headed for the exit.

She didn't instantly realize what was happening, and raised her head too late. Before the front door slammed shut, all she could see was Rocky wrapping a threadbare blue scarf around his neck with one hand, and gently pushing his cousin toward the street with the other.

The two young men who frequented the eatery, and who were different from most of the visitors, were constantly drawing a lot of suspicious stares. When Rocky had first brought his redheaded cousin to the place a few months ago, it had been noon on a workday, and the workmen who lunched at the eatery had become strangely quiet when the two young men had taken the only available table near the exit. Until that day, Rocky had always sat at that table for some reason, but every time he had been lucky enough to come to the eatery when there were few or no other guests. On his first visit with Calvin, though, it was as if he had deliberately chosen the busiest time of day. Like he wanted them to be noticed. But Rocky had guessed, apparently, that they had attracted too much attention, and since then, alone or with his cousin, he had shown up at the eatery either when honest people were busy working or at closing time, when honest people were getting ready for bed.

Such was the case to-day.

“And the following composition will immerse you…”

With a click of the switch on the radio panel the main room fell into silence. Despite the approaching Christmas, Mau was in a horrible mood, and even with all her love of music, she had no desire to listen to another sickeningly festive song. It was a cloudy, unusually snowy day in St. Louis, and Mau was apparently infected by its grayness, so even her usual chores were draining. Mau's father and the owner of the eatery, Mister Augusto Venza, had been away for a couple of weeks in Chicago on extremely urgent business, so Maura had to serve the clients alone and, moreover, had to meet 1928 all by herself. Though she was rather glad of the latter.

There will be no fuss.

Slowly, one by one, Mau counted the coins that Calvin and Rocky had left as payment for the coffee, and was surprised to find a piece of paper folded several times next to them. Unfolding it, Mau saw some amusing, almost childish, drawings in red crayon. On the first one, she herself was sleeping with a terribly sullen expression in a daisy field under a big, angry raincloud. In the second, Rocky held a sheep, which resembled a cloud of cotton candy and was eagerly munching on that raincloud, above his head, while the cartoonish Mau was already smiling. Next to these sketches was a wry caption:

“Don't be sour! Let sweet dreams eat all the bitter thoughts. R.”

Chuckling, Mau shook her head. She scrutinized the drawing for another minute or so, then sat down on the floor behind the counter and pulled one of the wooden baseboards towards herself.

“Come on, stop being stubborn…”

Finally, the baseboard gave way, revealing a narrow gap at the bottom of the counter that Mau used as a stash for part of her tips. She folded the sheet tighter and put it with the notes Rocky had sometimes left on his previous visits.

The front door suddenly swung open, letting cold air into the room. Mau's heart leapt, and she hastily pushed the wooden flap against the gap, then hastily stood up from the floor and shook off her knees.

“What is it, my dear? Are the spoons running away from you again?” the old Missis Bruno creaked in Italian.

“A keen eye you have,” Mau answered her also in Italian and added: “The usual for you?”

The woman nodded and headed for the far table. As she looked at her, Mau noticed the bright green knitted scarf under her coat and walked to the kitchen to serve Missis Bruno her favorite cheese ravioli.

“You have such a lovely scarf,” she said as she passed by. “Where did you get it?”

“Knitted it myself,” the woman's eyes flashed with pride. “There's some wonderful yarn at Scaffidi's now.”

“You're such a talented needlewoman,” Mau said, putting the pot on the stove. “I can't knit at all.”

The eatery became awkwardly quiet for a moment. Maura's revelation made Missis Bruno squirm uncomfortably in her chair. The mere thought that a woman of Mau’s age could not knit not only disturbed her, but appalled her. From the kitchen, Mau couldn't hear the old woman muttering worryingly to herself:

“Poor girl, there was no one to teach her…”

But even that wasn't enough of an excuse for her. She had friends, neighbors, and yet Maura Venza, at the age of twenty-two, could not knit! It's not a long way to ruin one's fate, thought Missis Bruno, nervously rubbing her napkin in her fingers. No, she could not let it go! A little while later, she said loudly:

“This is just unacceptable. What's your father thinking about? Certainly not that his daughter is so mature and can't knit. That's embarrassing,” her tone changed from condemning to admonishing. “Tell you what, Mau, honey, I'll teach you how to knit. It's easy, you'll see. Mama left you needles and yarn, didn't she?”

“I don't think so. Even if she did, it remained in Kansas City,” Mau lied habitually, barely containing a grin. She was amused at Missis Bruno's attitude toward such things. No wonder, though; things had been different when she had been young. Mau couldn't prove to her that knitting wasn't a required skill now.

“Not good. Not good at all,” the old woman continued to wail. “Back in my days…”

Mau sincerely hoped Missis Bruno hadn't heard the low chuckle that escaped her lips. She pulled a small bag out of the freezer. Knitting. Well now! There was a book she couldn’t finish for more than a month, and today there were mountains of plates, cups, and baking pans to wash. What knitting to think of.

Listening to Missis Bruno half-heartedly, Mau soon put a steaming plate of cheese ravioli with pesto in front of the old lady and returned to the counter. With the toe of her shoe, she again tried to discreetly slide a piece of baseboard back into the gap.

“…and then on Christmas Day…” Missis Bruno persisted. The wooden part wasn't falling into place. Mau frowned and mentally cursed. Why had she even opened the stash in the middle of the day?

Oh, yes, Rocky. Rocky and his funny drawing.

…and his old worn-out scarf.

Mau looked outside the window, watching the snowflakes fall slowly. She rarely got a chance to go outside, but Rocky, given his very specific occupation, had to be out in the cold a lot. And sleeping in the car in this weather must have been uncomfortable, too… it wouldn't take long to get sick. The mere thought of that made Maura uneasy. She pictured him huddled under his coat and a thin, shabby blanket, huddled in the back seat of the car, and she clenched the side of the counter tighter. He had been taking time out of his day for so many months now to come to her and just cheer her up with something: a humorous story, a funny trinket, or a little candy. As if whenever by any means he could find a little bit of warmth somewhere, he had always rushed to share it with her. And now, more than ever, she felt the desire to return that warmth to him a hundredfold. Slipping the teaspoon to the floor, Mau ducked under the counter and pulled back the flap of the stash.

“You know, Missis Bruno… I think you're right. I really should learn to knit. Could I ask you to lend me needles until my father returns and show me how to do it?”

“Of course,” the woman said enthusiastically, obviously pleased that her story had piqued Maura's interest. “Maybe you want to make something specific?”

“A scarf,” Mau answered without hesitation.

“Oh, a scarf is quite simple,” the woman squinted her eyes, smiling broadly. “With my advices, you’ll do it in two evenings. It's the dresses that require all sorts of tricks, but this…”

After a moment, Mau sat down in the chair opposite Missis Bruno and handed her a few crumpled bills. All her tips from the last couple months.

“Good. Can you buy a couple skeins of good yarn for me, please?”

Two evenings was easy to say! A week had passed before Mau could manage to do anything right at all. And Christmas was the day after tomorrow! So little, so little time… Mau yawned. She could hardly keep her eyes open, and therefore even had stopped watching whether the rows of stitches were knitted straight or not. She finished her work only in the morning, and fell asleep, holding her knitting in hands, with the needles dangerously close to her eyes.

And overslept.

In the morning, after freshening herself up, she hastily stuffed the scarf into a bundle of paper and rushed to the eatery. She spent the whole day in anticipation, hoping Rocky would come, and every time the bell over the door jingled, her heart jumped in her chest. Until finally the young man appeared on the doorstep, shaking off the snow from himself.

“Today is on the house, in celebration of Christmas,” she told him, setting coffee and a plate of chocolate pancakes with raspberry jam, garnished with three raspberries and sprinkled with powdered sugar, in front of him. And while Rocky, as if being hypnotized, stared at this gorgeousness and tried to guess if the berries were purposefully arranged in a heart-shaped pattern or not, she shoved the bundle into the pocket of his coat, which hung on the clothes rack behind him.

When Rocky walked out of the Venza family's eatery that evening, he couldn't stop smiling dreamily. He passed by the lamppost, dancing around it, and laughed softly, putting hands into his pockets. To think that Mau had baked pancakes just for him, and damn, what pancakes they were! But… what in the world was that?

He stared in puzzlement at the slanted bundle, and immediately opened it.

Seeing… a scarf.

Or rather, it looked like a scarf, except… the blue stitches wiggled from side to side, the crookedly sewn buttons reminded two eyes, and what should have been white trim on both ends looked more like jagged teeth. If it was a scarf, it was the most ridiculous scarf he had ever seen.

“How did you knit to me, buddy?” Rocky murmured, twirling the knitted mess in his hands. But there was no clue neither on the scarf nor in the paper shreds of the wrapper. Frowning, Rocky looked over his shoulder at the eatery and bit his lip.

Could it be that it was made by Mau?

There was certainly a chance that someone had put the bundle in his coat by accident, but somehow Rocky felt like there was no mistake. It was definitely a present. A self-made Christmas present. From Mau. For him! Rocky straightened the scarf and lifted it as high above his head as his arms could reach, looking at it like at an absolute miracle. The scarf, swaying in the wind, stared up at him with its button eyes and its crooked, white-toothed grin. And Rocky, as he continued his way toward the Little Daisy, smiled broadly back at it.

“Zib, please have mercy,” he kept whimpering, clutching at the man's pant leg. Zib made another attempt to make a step, but after dragging Rocky across the stage floor a little more, he gave up again.

“Kid,” Zib sighed, “if you don't let me go, I'm just going to sit on you.”

“Oh, please! I'll even be your personal horse, taking you out to the audience every night, right under the spotlight…”

Zib gave him a confused look and snorted nervously.

“No, I think I'll pass, thank you.”

“It's a matter of life and death, Zib! What can I do to get you to say yes? I'd do anything. Give anything. Literally. Even my eye teeth.”

“Why on earth are you so damn eager?” The man flailed his arms up. Rocky pulled himself closer to Zibowski's legs, squeezing them like a vise.

“It's just Christmas. I can't resist the urge to do good deeds. What a stale dry man wouldn't be heartbroken at a picture like this? Just imagine: a poor, unfortunate soul burning with a passion for music, but locked in a prison of pots and pans… as the servants of Euterpe, it is our duty to rectify such injustices! Even if only once a year.”

Zib groaned doomedly. He looked down at Rocky tiredly, then up at the ceiling, then back at Rocky, whose blue eyes stared back at him, not even with a plead, but with an almost childlike hope.

“I'm going to regret this…” he muttered, sighing heavily.

The next bright, frosty morning, Mau went down to the eatery and began her routine. She wiped off the dust, pulled open the curtains, opened the window vent, turned on the stove and set a batch of muffins to bake, began to prepare the batter for tomorrow as usual, and then…

…heard the music.

From the street, very close by, came a jaunty jazz tune, accompanied by the singing of several male voices. Mystified, Mau rubbed her hand over the fogged glass of the window and looked outside… no, it couldn't be. She ran out onto the porch and, still not believing her eyes, stared at the whole orchestra on the sidewalk in front of the eatery. When Rocky noticed her, he stepped forward and twirled around himself, playing his violin with an unusually wide smile. Looking at him, Mau laughed warmly and outlined the musicians with her hands, as if silently asking: How? How is this possible? Rocky only fleetingly lowered his gaze, paying her attention to his new scarf, and then winked at her, continuing his improvised dance with the violin.

It was a real wonder.

Soon the music and singing subsided, and Maura, still grinning happily, loudly applauded.

“Bravi! Bravi! Oh, but please hurry inside, I don’t want you all to catch cold! Come on!”

Zib's band could barely fit into the cramped space of the eatery, but that only made the atmosphere more welcoming. When Rocky cheerfully introduced Mau to all the musicians, whose names immediately mixed in her head, she brought out cinnamon coffee for each of them and a vase of ginger cookies to bite until the cupcakes were ready.

“Mind if I smoke?” Zib asked, making himself comfortable in the old chair. Mau shook her head, locking the door. No, there will be no working until the last client today. Today will be only the celebration.

“How could I say no after such an amazing concert? How did you all even sign up for this?”

Zib chuckled, giving Rocky a sly look.

“Well, let's just say he's got a long way to work it off.”

“Oh, it was worth it,” the young man shrugged nonchalantly.

Following the cozy Christmas aromas, the tiny room was filled with stories from Zib's band's past, music and laughter. Mau couldn't remember when she had felt so alive, so it was like a dream. Such a sweet, sweet dream. In her mind, she went back to those distant noisy evenings in New York, when every holiday she and her father celebrated in the large company of the Riva family. When there was no fear or anxiety, when there was warmth and hope in everything. Mau's gaze lingered on Rocky. She didn't understand how he, with all his troubles and hardships, every time managed to do the impossible: even if only for a short period of time, but to bring her back that long-lost hope. But it was then, on that sunny Christmas Eve, when she finally heard in herself undeniably loudly: I love you.

After more than one hour and more than one cup of coffee, after a series of stories and a particularly noisy argument, Sy climbed up on the counter and began to dance and juggle apples to the lively rhythmic clapping…

When suddenly, dumbfounded, with a key in his hand, Augusto Venza appeared on the doorstep.

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kamirai-k · 6 months ago

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Chapter 2

Yeonwoo despised winter.

The season was filled with nothing but negative emotions and constant discomfort when he stepped outside, an unspoken threat loomed over his head. Winter had always been his least favorite season, the coldest yet unfairly most beautiful. White snow that would fall as he looked out the window always fascinating him but were he to engage for too long would leave him bedridden and a burden.

Coincidentally the season he despised so much wasn’t primarily due to the cold. No, it was more so regarding the fact that winter was busiest for his parents and their business. Customers are most willing to buy around this time of year, the consequence of this, much to his parent’s dismay, leaving Yeonwoo alone weeks before the holiday coming up to please those very consumers.

Yeonwoo understood the reason his parents had to leave he understood it well. No matter how much he reasoned, however, no amount of thought could quell the loneliness he felt around these times. The feeling so well ingrained in him even now with his parents by his side as they walked through the market, the echo of it still crept into the parts of him Yeonwoo believed he had long discarded, familiar cold seeping into him.

His parents were lively and a source of non-stop conversation as they walked through the Christmas market, looking at and pointing out everything within sight that ever so slightly piqued their interest. The pine trees adorned with lights, each uniquely shaped and glowing many assortments of colors, were the main topic of the current conversation.

A gentle squeeze of his hand eased him out of his cloud-headed daze. Yeonwoo looked up to find Haesol’s eyes on him, expression as impassive as ever but eyes filled with that softness she always had when looking at him.

Lips turned up into a smile Yeonwoo tilted his head, “I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention. What were we talking about?”

Haesol looked at him for a while, silence stretching as he looked at her confused, unaware of his parents watching the interaction with intense interest.

“Are you cold?” Haesol raised the question as they made their way into the market a frigid gust of wind striking him across the face, leaving him momentarily stunned.

A shiver ran through him as he registered her question. So caught up in his thoughts, Yeonwoo hadn’t realized just how freezing he was, biting cold of the passing breeze nipping at and sticking to his skin, permeating through his bones. Swiftly fluttering his eyelids, Yeonwoo tried to dispel some of if not a little of the cold clinging to his face, the motion helping if not just a little to add warmth to him.

His hand already intertwined with Haesol’s Yeonwoo squeezed it as he nodded, “You know me. I’ve never been all too good with the cold… I’ve always had a disdain for winter. It’s okay though. It’s really fun walking around and looking at all the cool things here.”

“Are you sure you’re ok honey?” His mother came up to him, placing the back of her palm on his cold cheek, “You’re a lot colder than normal maybe we should head back to the hotel. We wouldn’t want you getting sick.” She cooed as she ran warm, smooth knuckles along his cold cheek.

“No.” Yeonwoo desperately shook his head, “I’m having fun and we’ll only be here for a day or two I want to spend it well. Not cooped up in the hotel the whole time.” he muttered looking at his mother in a silent attempt to convince her otherwise.

Yeonwoo’s mother looked at him long and hard for a while, brown eyes locked onto his honey-yellow ones, gaze searching for any trace of falsehood or reluctance as she held his face in her hands probing for any hint she could find. He held her gaze determined to convince her he was genuine and wanted to continue the journey with them, despite his clear discontent with the weather.

Sighing his mother patted his cheek, “Alright dear if you say so, just tell us whenever the cold starts to become too much ok?” She made her way back to his father’s side and a sigh of relief left him as he exhaled, smiling.

“You know you should be careful too dear.” His father said reaching over to grab his mother’s hand. “Just because you still look so young and beautiful doesn’t mean you don’t need to be careful too.”

“Oh, you.” His mother gushed, a bashful hand on her cheek as the gentle touches and flirtatious back and forth that typically happened between them began.

Yeonwoo couldn’t help rolling his eyes at their antics a subtle smile curving his lips. He felt a tug on his arm and turned his attention to the one whose hand was in his. Haesol’s gaze though steady had the faint tint of worry he had seen so clearly in his mother’s moments ago.

“Are you still worried Haesol? I’m fine really. The cold is just… well you know.” Yeonwoo couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that came out of him as they made their way deeper into the event, cold air beating at his cheeks and neck. He should have packed a scarf on his way, it would have done great to help with how cold he felt even though he was bundled up in a thick coat and donning two layers of pants.

Haesol hummed as she turned her head, eyes flicking from store to store.

Without warning Yeonwoo was being pulled off to whatever destination Haesol had in mind, his mother making a comment that warmed his cheeks as they followed close behind. Leading them into a store, the heat of the place knocked him back a step as his father steadied him with gentle hands placed on his shoulders. Haesol let go of his hand and began wandering around the store. His mother followed her asking questions that Haesol answered as Yeonwoo stayed back with his father amused by the sudden change in atmosphere and curious as to what she was doing.

“Well come on son you not going to stay here and just watch are you let’s go see what they’re up to.” His father urged, hands still placed on his shoulders as he started guiding him to where Haesol and his mother were further in the store. It didn’t take long to reach them, the distance between the entrance and the center of the store a mere few yards.

“Oh, this one looks nice.” His mother said as she and Haesol looked at an article of clothing Yeonwoo couldn’t quite make out given it looked quite small.

Haesol turned to face his mother, carefully wrapping a sunny yellow scarf around his mother’s neck, “But is it comfortable and warm?”

“Oh, Kang Haesol your quite the charmer aren’t you?” His mother gushed and just as Yeonwoo was about to interject she continued, “Well it is quite warm and it’s fluffy too perfect for this weather.”

Nodding Haesol grabbed another scarf off the rack, a deep purple one, “You can have that one Mother.”

“Oh my such a kind daughter-in-law. Isn’t that right honey?” His mother cooed at his father leaving Yeonwoo flushed as he watched. Daughter-in-law? He hadn’t even proposed yet why did his mother have an affinity for saying such things when she knew how embarrassed it made him?

Haesol hummed, agreeing with the comment, “I’m happy that I left a good impression mother.”

His mother gushed over how kind and caring her ‘daughter-in-law was’ while Yeonwoo stood behind the clothing rack cold, confused, and worst of all flustered. What did his mother mean daughter-in-law? Yeonwoo and Haesol had only started dating for the past 9 months and moved together recently, to get married now was… it was too soon and who’s to say Haesol would even say yes? Yeonwoo was just a writer a best-selling author, but compared to Haesol successful CEO of her modeling agency, you would have thought she was a model, Yeonwoo was no one.

Amid his bewildered state of mind, Haesol swiped the line of clothes he hid behind, a soft deep purple scarf in arms. Her eyes were locked onto him and the slight pink that dusted his cheeks. Shaking off the embarrassment, Yeonwoo forced himself to regain composure, feigning displeasure at the lighthearted antics of his parents and girlfriend. Crossing his arms and skeptical gaze fixed up at her, Yeonwoo awaited whatever it was she had to say, ready to get his own chance to take a jab at her.

Taking a step closer to him, Haesol gently wrapped the scarf around his neck, the soft material instantly soothing and melting away any discontent he had prior as the warmth spilled into his neck and shoulders, calming him. Yeonwoo sighed, arms falling at his sides with Haesol wrapping the scarf around him snug and secure.

Scarf wrapped around him just right, not too tight and not too loose Haesol spoke, “That’s better now right? Not as cold?” She asked him, genuinely seeking an answer as she brought a calloused yet soft hand to cup his cheek.

Haesol had something about her, though her expression was one of constant neutrality moments like this were ones where even if that was the case there was something. Yeonwoo didn’t know if it was the slight change in tone or perhaps it was a subtle change in expression that made Yeonwoo feel as though she was seeking praise from him. Dog ears he could faintly see drooping over her head begging to be pet, and Yeonwoo couldn’t bring himself to say no. Not when she looked at him like that.

“It’s really warm and soft.” Yeonwoo smiled, reaching up to cover the hand she had over his cheek with his own, leaning into it. “I really like this scarf it’s comfortable too. Now I’ll be able to go around with you guys comfortably Thank you Haesol.”

Haesol gazed at him for a moment, eyes alight with a faint flicker of mirth Yeonwoo couldn’t help but get lost in them. Standing there too lost in each other to understand how the passage of time functioned, Yeonwoo noticed the softening of her eyes and his reflection looking back at him as his were most likely doing the same to her.

Flashes of a camera were what broke him out of his trance, turning to none other than his mother as she snapped picture after picture.

His mother waved her hand at them, “Oh honey, don’t mind me continuing. You too are so cute. Young love it truly such a great thing to witness.”

“MOM!”

“What? Is it so wrong to commemorate such an adorable moment between my son and his future wife now?”

“Now now honey.” His father interjected, and the hope that filled Yeonwoo at that moment, “You can’t just take pictures of them like that and not take multiple angles dear.” Came crashing down and his flush increased so much that he was positive his ears were puffing out steam.

Yeonwoo groaned, Haesol patting his back as some form of consultation, he knew the teasing he would get from his friends would never die down after they got their hands on those pictures, and they would. They would get a hold of those pictures and it would be the end of him then.

“Mom. You can not at all under any circumstances show those pictures to Junhyuk.” He begged.

“What? Oh sorry dear.” She showed him her phone. “I already sent them. He’s your best friend after all I thought it would be best if he saw them first because he’s always so enthusiastic about the pictures of you I send.” Ya sure enthusiastic so he can embarrass Yeonwoo later on, him and the rest of them.

Yeonwoo would never see the end of it, would he? Headhung like a prisoner about to meet his fate at the gallows, Yeonwoo pulled out his phone to mute the group chat for the rest of the night and took Haesol’s to do the same.

After paying for their items (Haesol paid) they walked back out into the cold of the day, though the sun shone brightly it did nothing to warm him as they walked around the market. Yeonwoo had been so caught up and frozen in his thoughts that he didn’t notice just how beautiful their surroundings were.

The sun hung in the west, the sky a shade of reddish purple, preparing to rest and plunge them into darkness. A darkness that would be illuminated by the lights that he could faintly make out the colors of as they hugged the trees they would help illuminate when the time would come. Walking down the market Yeonwoo observed his surroundings, to his right gingerbread-themed mini markets and stands all lined up one after another leading towards the large Christmas tree in the middle. They walked past one row and Yeonwoo quickly realized the stands were structured in a way where they all started at the Christmas tree and spread out, forming a snowflake pattern.

As Yeonwoo looked around, eyes hungrily eating up everything he could see he didn’t realize he was leading Haesol and his parents through and into the market, excitedly pointing out the structure of one building here or how the lights wrapped around a specific tree was especially beautiful. He didn’t notice the fond look his parents gazed upon him with as they took pictures and the triumphant look in Haesol’s eyes as he held her hand throughout his endless chatter, guiding them toward anything he found remotely exciting.

After what Yeonwoo was sure was an hour of looking around he was certain that he had rambled on long enough. Looking over, Yeonwoo was proven wrong when he found his parent’s mother standing in between his father and Haesol as they looked at something, nodding their heads or pointing something out, on her phone. Curious, Yeonwoo stepped over too and walked behind them peering over his mother’s shoulder.

“This one is the best.” his mother gushed scrolling to a picture of him smiling and pointing at the lights.

Swiping at the screen his father disagreed, “No I think this one is better.” he pointed at the picture which was of him standing underneath an arch of white lights, smiling as he poked at a balloon, the white lights cascading over him. “Yeonwoo definitely looks best in this picture.”

The trio hummed seemingly in agreement before Haesol swiped through a few pictures to land on one this time of golden light showering over him as he ran from market to market looking at the things being sold, “He looks happiest in this one.” She pointed out.

Yeonwoo’s parents looked at her, their faces radiating and brimming with joy as they looked at her as though she had discovered something more precious than they had ever anticipated.

“Haesol you’re right are you a genius?” His mother shoved her phone into his father’s hands before grasping Haesol’s hands, “This picture is perfect. I’m going to frame it and put it on our shelf and whenever you come over it’ll be one of the first things anyone sees. Our beautiful son.”

“Guys.”

“It’s perfect I love it.”

“Mom.”

“I wanna hang this on my wall.”

“Dad.”

“Send it to me I need to add it to my collection.”

“Haesol???”

“Wait.” His mother paused, “You have a collection?”

Haesol nodded fishing out her phone, “Ya There’s a lot of pictures of Yeonwoo in this one right here.” she showed his parents her phone, and while they were conversing in some sort of third language about the lighting of a picture would make his hair or eyes stand out more Yeonwoo watched utterly confused and he wasn’t going to lie somewhat happy. He knew they loved him, his parents made it well known to him throughout his childhood whenever they could spend time with him, and Haesol made sure he knew she loved him with her seemingly endless well of affection specifically dedicated to him.

Yeonwoo couldn’t help the beaming smile on his face, “Guys!”

That seemed to have gotten their attention as they paused their conversation, turning to him.

“Come on let’s go over there. there’s an ice skating rink over there. I’ve never been there before.” Yeonwoo took Haesol’s hand and led her and his parents who followed after them, his mother making endless comments on how cute he was while his father pointed out little details, as they made their way to the skating rink. Yeonwoo had never been ice skating before; he was never willing to go out in the cold weather to have fun, but he could try this time.

They reached the rink and Haesol paid for the time they would be allowed to skate and for their ice skates. His parents tried to protest saying she had paid enough but just as Yeonwoo had to learn so did they when it came to Haesol and her need to pay for the people she cared for. They eventually stopped trying to fight Haesol for the ‘right to pay’ and instead stayed by his side muttering how ‘this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.’ It was honestly entertaining to watch.

With Haesol having finished with the payments, they all went to pick out the skates they would be using. Yeonwoo reached over for a simple pair.

“These ones are better.” Haesol told him leaning over his shoulder to direct his hands to a pair of shoes on the top end of the shelf, “The blades are made of high-quality steel that helps with skating longer.”

Yeonwoo looked over the pair. The silk material of the lace and sharpness of the balds, along with the material of the boot told him it was expensive. Just how much money did Haesol spend on getting these skates? Peering at her as she looked at him chin resting on his shoulder, Yeonwoo found he didn’t want to know.

Yeonwoo agreed, “OK. But pick some out for my parents too.” Yeonwoo would not be the only one fretting over how expensive a pair of skates were, it would also be him collecting his parent’s debt for embarrassing him earlier.

As he walked over to the bench, Yeonwoo passed his parents as their expressions paled at Haesol insisting they use the expensive skates. He could see them calculating just how much it all cost and how many years it would take them to pay it off, and Yeonwoo couldn’t help the tiny giggle that came out of him as they tried and failed to convince Haesol to let them use the regular skates. Even they couldn’t say no to Haesol when she pressed on saying they were family and it was the least she could do. If Yeonwoo ignored that last bit he could say his revenge was a success.

Slipping his skates on Yeonwoo finished just as Haesol and his parents finished their ‘discussion’ with his Haesol winning of course and Yeonwoo sat and watched as they relented, putting on their skates then marveling at how comfortable they were. After making sure his parents were set and on the ice, Haesol came over to him and began putting on her skates.

“You enjoyed that didn’t you?” Haesol asked as she focused on tying the laces on her first shoe.

Yeonwoo shrugged, feigning innocence, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You can be quite petty when you want to be.” Haesol pushed her hands onto her knees standing up, extending her hand out for him to take, a small smirk tugging at her lips “And to your parent no less. That’s very naughty of you Yeonwoo.”

Yeonwoo didn’t know why but the phrasing of that sentence had heat rushing to his cheek as he took her hand, “And what are you going to do about it hmm?” He cocked his head up daring her to say anything remotely obscene with this many people around them.

“Oh,” Haesol leaned down toward him, hand on his shoulder hot to the touch compared to the cold of other surroundings, and whispered to him low and husky so only he could hear, his breath catching in his throat, “Wouldn’t you like to know, I’ll have to save that for when we get back to the hotel.” Then she pulled away, Smirk on full display as she led him to the border of the ice as he desperately tried to wrap his head around what she just said.

“Do? Hotel? Huh?” Heat rushed upwards and Yeonwoo knew even his hands were a bright shade of pink as Haesol pulled him against her, whispering into his beet-red ear for him to step over onto the ice in that low tone saying, ‘Just like that Yeonwoo just hike your leg up, that’s it. Good job.’ It left Yeonwoo’s mind in a frenzy, frantically trying to grasp the situation as they made their way onto the ice.

Haesol led them onto the ice, and Yeonwoo was sure she donned that playful smirk as he looked anywhere but her, choosing to focus on his feet and balancing on the ice without her.

Breathing in, letting himself feel the air going in and out his lungs as he exhaled, Yeonwoo tried to balance without Haesol, Brows furrowed in deep concentration.

“How about focusing your weight on one side to stir than the other,” Haesol suggested, her hand that once rested at his waist slid down further.

Yeonwoo tried he really did, taking her words into account he leaned to one side moving forward along with her as she held him, her hands moving further down. However, his attempts were in vain because the moment he leaned left, Yeonwoo lost his balance and was close to falling sideways had Haesol not been there with him. Falling into her arms Yeonwoo huffed, this wasn’t as easy as it looked.

He tried again and again, Haesol giving him advice as patient as ever as she held him in her arms the whole time, though her wandering hands were an increasing distraction he was growing frustrated about, she led him around the ice-low voice reverberating through him as her words shifted from careful instruction to utterly obscene comments on things Yeonwoo couldn’t and wouldn’t elaborate.

His parents were off skating somewhere opposite their side of the rink, and from the looks of it, they seemed more than comfortable skating around hand in hand as was typical with them. Puffing out a cheek, Yeonwoo watched as other people equally as bad as him picked up skating effortlessly while he was stuck in limbo.

Yeonwoo straightened his back, bringing his toes together to stop moving any further, “Stop.”

Haesol did just that as she looked down at him ready to hear anything he had to say.

“I’m tired.” He looked up at her arms spread wide, “I wanna go rest a little before we come back” Letting out little clouds with each exhale, Yeonwoo looked at her face crimson.

Nodding Haesol led him by his arms back to the barrier where ice meets concrete and stepped off shuffling over to the bench and collapsing onto it with a long sigh.

“I blame you.”

Haesol looked at him neutral, “I’ve done nothing wrong”

“You, have done so much wrong. I’m trying to learn how to skate.” Yeonwoo laid his head back neck pressed against the bench, “And you're not helping at all with… everything you're doing.”

Haesol let out something just shy of a chuckle as she reached for and linked their fingers together as his hand lay on the bench, “Is it so wrong for me to-”

“No, do not finish that sentence. Don’t even think about finishing that sentence.” Yeonwoo snatched his hand away from hers, brows knitting as he glared at her. There she went again refusing to take accountability for not being able to keep her hands off him when the situation called for decorum.

Haesol hummed and just as she was about to speak Yeonwoo’s parents came over, confused looks on their faces.

“Son? What’s wrong?” His father asked.

Sighing Yeonwoo explained to them his failed attempts at skating leaving out Haesol’s antic in said explanation. when he was done his father offered to help him. Yeonwoo didn’t need to think about it. Standing up, Haesol helped him up and onto the ice as his father took over.

It started the same as Haesol and ended the same, in utter failure. Yeonwoo’s cheeks were crimson through the halfway point and he was close to giving up again.

“Son… have you tried sucking in your stomach to help with you’re balance,” His father said confusion evident in his tone.

Shocked that the idea had never been suggested to him Yeonwoo’s face slackened, and he did just as his father said and immediately noticed a difference. He let go of his father’s hands arms spread out to further help with his balance while sucking his stomach in and the difference was uncanny. Hobbling toward Haesol on wobbly legs, Yeonwoo exclaimed,

“So it was you're fault!”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Plopping himself onto the bench, Yeonwoo sighed. Their time was up and everyone had to now get off the ice and allow for a new round of people to skate. His parents had got to use the bathroom just before the announcement sounded, informing them to form an orderly line to the exit and get off the ice.

This meant sadly, Yeonwoo was alone with the one person he was terribly furious with. The same person now knelt in front of him as he sat on a bench near the ice rink, one with fewer people, and was currently helping with getting his skates off. Yeonwoo for once didn’t complain as she insisted on helping him. He watched, frustration brooding, as she untied the shoelaces, taking in his little form of petty revenge. It wasn’t really revenge if she wanted to though, was it?

Leaning back on his palm, his leg raising up slightly as he did so, a small smirk on his face as Haesol looked up at him only to look back down.

As Haesol worked at the laces and began tugging off the boots, Yeonwoo’s anger stirred. Was asking her to teach him to ice skate without being… well… all attractive and purposefully trying to rile him up too much to ask? His parents were in the vicinity for goodness sake and knowing them they probably took pictures upon pictures of him fumbling all over the ice as Haesol ‘helped’ him. Her want of him couldn’t have been so bad that even a simple exchange like teaching him something was ruined by her inability to keep her thoughts pure. Yeonwoo could do it just fine why couldn’t she?

“Yeonwoo,” Haesol called after setting the skates to the side, and gently cradling his right foot to put on his shoe.

“What.”

Haesol lifted her gaze to look up at him, and Yeonwoo looked back unimpressed, “Are you still mad at me?”

He placed his finger under his chin, far off look in his eye seemingly in thought when in reality he was thinking of how to tell her ‘yes’ in the most ruthless manner he could conjure up.

“Hmmm, well if you asking if I’m still mad that you,” Yeonwoo raised his hand counting the following instances on his fingers, “whispered such naughty things to me instead of properly teaching me to skate, touched me in places that you are not allowed to in public instead of teaching me to skate, and instead of telling me the basics of skating you choose to sprinkle bits of information that I should have known only after I learned the fundamentals? Then hmm, yes.” He clapped his hands, “Any more questions Kang Haesol?”

Instead of answering him, Haesol looked back down and resumed putting on his shoes for him.

Yeonwoo couldn’t help the satisfaction that bubbled underneath him as the silence stretched on, Haesol focusing on tying the last shoelace as he watched, making sure it was obvious he was disappointed in her, flicking his foot every once in a while forcing her to redo the knot. She did so without the slightest complaint or shift in expression. Though Yeonwoo supposed the latter was a constant norm that even he sometimes couldn’t understand.

Pushing herself up Haesol tapped his leg with her foot, signaled to him she was done. Yeonwoo stood up and just as he grabbed his skates and put them back on the shelf, his phone rang.

Sliding the phone icon right and picking up the call, Yeonwoo put his phone to his ear, ready to hear what his father had to say, “Hello?”

“Hi, son.”

“Ya, Dad what’s wrong?”

“Your mom and I are going to look around the event just the two of us.”

“What! Why?”

“Well your mom ended up getting caught up in all the food and mini-games they have on this side of the market and she wants to go on the carousel, something about reliving old memories.”

Yeonwoo sighed, “So a date.”

“Exactly!” his father exclaimed, “This is good for you too son. You get to be with your girlfriend for the rest of the night. Isn’t that fun?”

Yeonwoo under normal circumstances would be ecstatic, time with Haesol though they lived in the same home was interrupted by calls for new business deals or a new round of editing that needed to take place. This time however wasn’t under normal circumstances and Yeonwoo would very much like to be as far from her as he could. Who knew she might lose her wits about her and do something to him? In public no less.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Yeonwoo agreed, “OK Dad, have fun.”

“Love you, son.”

“Love you too.”

The call dropped, and Yeonwoo was left staring at his phone, the fondness that seeped into him at his parent’s antics quickly replaced with caution as he felt something looming over his left shoulder.

“Your parent?” Haesol asked, though she clearly didn’t need to given his father’s contact was on full display for her to see.

Yeonwoo slid his phone back into its pocket, turning away from her now that he had put his skates away, “They won’t be joining us for the rest of the night. Mom wants to ride the carousel and something about reliving memories.” he shrugged.

“So I get you to myself for the rest of the night?” Had she not learned her lesson.

Baffled that that was the conclusion she had come to, Yeonwoo walked faster, “Sure.”

Thankfully Haesol would allow them to walk in silence. Silence that Yeonwoo despite his fading anger towards her, found to be quite comfortable as they watched the lights, and the people around them, now that the sun had fully set. It was certainly more beautiful too.

All day Yeonwoo had been surrounded by noise, whether it be his parents and their endless jest and ever-switching conversation or the people around them chattering and running and playing around, the energy picking up at certain intervals. Now that it was later in the day and many of the people had left, leaving now a significantly less amount of people. Yeonwoo found the quiet he was so accustomed to more precious now that he had been without it for so long.

Haesol and him walked around the market some more, their destination unknown, and tension that Yeonwoo had been persistent in keeping between them dissipating as he slowly started to grow comfortable again, letting his guard down. Yeonwoo’s shoulders eased, so captivated by how beautiful the lights were, that he didn’t notice Haesol slowly closing the distance he had set between them as they walked, his form of non-verbal reprimand as they wondered.

Making a turn on their path to an unmarked destination, Yeonwoo heard the faint rumbling of his stomach and stopped. Haesol followed immediately and Yeonwoo had just realized how close she had gotten, almost shoulder to shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Haesol attempted to reach for his hand.

Stepping to the side, further away from her Yeonwoo smiled, “I’m hungry. Let’s go get some food.” She was paying of course.

He started walking again this time looking for a stand that not only had good food but also was fairly pricey. Just because his anger turned embarrassment had waned didn’t mean he wasn’t going to take one final petty act of revenge before burying this hatchet. A tteokbokki stand caught his eye, and Yeonwoo sped towards it enthusiastically, stooping once he reached the stand.

Waving Haesol over, fully aware of her dislike of spicy foods, Yeonwoo ordered enough for the both of them and was even offered a discount by the kind lady who ran the stand stating ‘Such a beautiful couple shouldn't have to pay so much for a simple meal', a discount Yeonwoo denied. How could he punish Haesol if they were going to get a discount on this meal? It wouldn’t make her pockets hurt. Haesol was far too rich for something like this to do any damage to her account.

That wasn’t what he was going for, however, Haesol knew Yeonwoo wasn’t one to spend money all too often, especially her money regardless of how she told him she wanted to spend on him. Yeonwoo spending money in this manner would get the message across that he wanted an apology. After thanking the kind lady, ordering some sweet fried chicken and donuts, for himself of course, and watched as the faint shift in Haesol’s expression turned from one of neutrality to concealed disgust as he walked leading the way for them to find a place to sit and eat their food.

Yeonwoo finds a table for them to seat themselves and takes the food he made her carry in her arms and places them on the table, fishing out their wooden chopsticks before sitting at the table, patting the seat next to him for Haesol to sit. Yeonwoo wanted to see her face up close when she would crumble and relent to her wrongdoings.

Hesitantly Haesol sits down next to him and Yeonwoo grasps her arm pulling her in closer, his chest pressed against her arm, he would milk this for all it was worth.

Picking up a spicy tteokbokki with wooden chopsticks and a napkin underneath to catch the drippings, Yeonwoo smiled up at his girlfriend whose face was growing green.

“Haesol?” He purred unassuming, “Won’t you eat? The kind lady said she made it with special care and I picked it out because I thought you would like it. It’s good to try something new every once in a while you know.”

Haesol remained silent, staring at the tteokbokki in between his chopsticks. Though her face betrayed but a bit of color the way her hands gripped the fabric of her pants told Yeonwoo all he needed to know.

Feigning disappointment, Yeonwoo sighed, “Well I picked out this just for you to have your fill, I mean we did stay out quite a bit so I thought the spice would warm you up a bit since it has been pretty cold, but maybe that was just me.”

Slowly pulling the tteokbokki away from her, Yeonwoo watched as her eyes flicked from his face to the tteokbokki and back again, the grip with which she grabbed the fabric of her pants with sure to cause wrinkle and Haesol did the very thing he wanted her too.

Leaning forward Haesol took the whole thing in one bite and chewed.

Yeonwoo smiled as she did so, all anger he felt prior fading away completely as the growing displeasure on her face soothed him.

“Is it good?” Yeonwoo asked placing the chopsticks into the Styrofoam container to grab her arm, “Do you like it.”

Swallowing Haesol looked at him long and hard, lips so close to a frown, “Yes, it’s good.”

Yeonwoo couldn’t help burst into a fit of giggles at the poor attempt of a lie that was and reached over into the back to grab a bottle of water bringing it towards her. Haesol reached for the bottle but he pulled it out her her reach.

“You don’t think it’s going to be that easy do you?”

Eyes locked onto his, Haesol’s back straightened, “I’m sorry”

“Sorry for what?” Yeonwoo hummed.

“I’m sorry for” she raised her hand and listed her wrongdoings, “Whispering obscene things to you while you were trying to focus on learning a new skill, touching you inappropriately when you were serious and told me not too, and not helping you with ice skating and instead letting my own desire for you run my decisions.”

“And?”

“I’m sorry for doing it in public.” She muttered.

The delivery could use better wording but Yeonwoo couldn’t stay mad at her for long. Smiling at her, a genuine smile this time, Yeonwoo handed the water bottle to Haesol who roughly uncapped the water bottle and downed the whole thing in 3 to 4 gulps. Maybe he went a bit too far with the punishments.

Sliding the sweet fried chicken to her and the donuts Yeonwoo offered one to her. Haesol didn’t waste a second to take a bit from his hand and Yeonwoo found it incredibly adorable, like a kicked puppy finally getting a treat. Why exactly was he mad at her again? He couldn’t quite remember anymore.

Yeonwoo ate his full after that, occasionally feeding Haesol a piece of his food every so often when she would look at a donut he held with particular interest. The topic of their favorite part of the event came up and while Yeonwoo’s was the lights and how pretty they were Haesol’s was shocking yet terribly typical of her Yeonwoo didn’t know why he was surprised.

“I got to take new pictures of you and added them to my album so I’m good.”

Yeonwoo didn’t even have the energy to be the least bit disappointed, all that having gone to his plans made earlier. Plus it would be a lie if he were to say he didn’t enjoy the clear affection Haesol had for him.

After they cleaned up their mess and had their full, Yeonwoo allowed Haesol to stand closer to him as they went, Haesol stopping them at a tunnel where lights of orange and gold hung from the arc creating a beautifully warm atmosphere. She led Yeonwoo in, hand on the small of his back as they entered and Yeonwoo couldn’t help but gasp. The lights were shaped in the form of stars as some swayed back and forth with their passing through. Warm glow of them so calming and soothing, Yeonwoo couldn’t help the smile that curved his lips as he ran underneath the lights. The hue reminded him of the warm sunsets of summer, towel placed on the sand shore just to watch the spectacle.

Yeonwoo overlooked Haesol as she took picture after picture of him jumping towards the lights overhead or playing with the ones that hung lower on the arc fascinated by the shapes the lights molded in. Currently enamored by a light in the form of something as unexpected as a duck Yeonwoo didn’t notice Haesol coming over to him, looking over his shoulder.

“Do you like it?”

Jumping out of his skin, Yeonwoo turned to find her eyes on him, “Ya it’s kind of cute. Reminds me of when I tried to make a snow duck and failed.”

Haesol smiled, taking hold of his cold hand that felt almost scorched by her warmer one, “Luckily I actually did help you make a good one in the end hmm?”

“Well, I guess you did something good then.” He chuckled squeezing her hand in return.

Haesol took his other hand in between her own, forcing Yeonwoo to look at her as their eyes locked, Yeonwoo couldn’t look away and her normally dark eyes, he didn’t know if it was because of the lights that hung overhead or because she was looking at him, shown with such a clear love it almost shocked him. Almost.

Haesol brought her lips to kiss the knuckles of his right hand, long and thoughtful was each kiss as she pressed them onto cold hands that warmed along with equally as warm cheeks. She spread his hands out, having finished with the outer part of his hands and moving to his palms. The kisses she pressed there longer and softer than the rest, Yeonwoo struggled to breathe as she pulled up the sleeve of his coat, those lips moved to his inner wrist.

Haesol continued and Yeonwoo was sure his hands and face would burst into flames any second, his knees growing weak as the kisses went on forever yet also not long enough. Slowly, Haesol pulled her lips away from him and Yeonwoo found he wanted her to continue.

“There” She pressed one last kiss on the back of his palm, “Now your hands are warm.”

He looked at her somewhat dumbfounded before he giggled, “Is that… your Christmas present for me?” Yeonwoo wiped a tear from his eye as his fit continued, unaware of how Haesol’s eyes widened slightly.

“Speaking of Christmas presents.” She took out a box from the pocket of her coat, “I got you something.”

Yeonwoo’s laughter ceased immediately as he slowly pulled his other hand out of hers to hold the box she gave him with both hands, heart beating intensifying in his chest and hands shaking as they held the box, anticipation building.

“I had planned to give it to you whether or not we went on this trip, but then you said you would have loved to go to a Christmas market and I thought it would have been better than what I had planned for us today instead.” She stepped closer to him.

Heart beating rapidly in his chest Yeonwoo whispered, the warmth and joy that seeped into his core overwhelming, “What- what did you have planned for us today.”

“I wanted to recreate our first date.”

Yeonwoo knew that one well as tears wheeled up in his eyes—their home date. Yeonwoo had come over for what he presumed was a normal date. Only to find that Haesol had rearranged her living room into the most comfortable living area he had laid eyes on and they stayed at her place cuddled up onto the couch-turned-bed Haesol had made, watching film after film, drama after drama until Yeonwoo was so tired he had stayed over rather place that night the warmth that he had received from her that night one he could feel in the very moment as he carefully opened the box.

Bracelets, two of them, one silver and one gold, berried in a little field of white and yellow roses, with their names engraved onto them.

Yeonwoo looked up at Haesol speechless at the tears he had tried to hold in spilled over. Haesol stepped over to him immediately, hands gently cradling and wiping the tears off his face. Yeonwoo knew what he wanted to say. He loved it. He would treasure it for as long as they were together but he couldn’t, his mouth just wouldn’t move only letting pitiful sobs escape him as Haesol held him, making sure to not touch the box.

“It’s ok you don’t have to say anything I know bo-bae, I know.”

Haesol held him until he had calmed down, sobs wracking through him as he tried to convey his joy only for non-comprehensible babble to come out. Yeonwoo held the box in one hand as his other one wiped the remnants of the rest of his tears away.

“Can I put it on you?” Haesol asked, picking up the golden bracelet with Haesol engraved on it.

Nodding Yeonwoo let out a hoarse, “Yes, please do.”

Smiling Haesol carefully pushed up the sleeve of his right arm, and carefully placed then hooked the bracelet in place, her thumb running over the engraving on it. It was a perfect fit.

Taking in a shaky breath Yeonwoo took the bracelet with his name engraved on it and lay his palm open for Haesol to place her wrist in so he could do the same. Haesol placed her hand in his and Yeonwoo with shaky hands laid the bracelet on her wrist and hooked the clasp, taking a second to admire it. His name engraved onto the bracelet just as hers was onto his. It meant he was hers and she was his.

A smile blooming on his face Yeonwoo jumped into her arms, “Thank you! I love it! I’m never taking this off ever. I love you so much.”

Wrapping her arms around him, squeezing him into her warm embrace Yeonwoo thought winter wasn’t so bad as she pressed her cheek against his hair, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Well, it’s a good thing I made sure these are water resistant.”

And Yeonwoo laughed.

Notes:

Yeonwoo’s parents in the background snapping all the pictures and taking all the videos: look at them aren’t they so cute another picture to frame and hand on our wall how nice (≧▽≦)

9 notes · View notes

shifterdomain · 2 months ago

Note

Thankyou! I'd like to say anon if that's okay.

I was thinking (non celebrity figure)

Jonah owns a coffee shop, yn goes there to blow off steam everyday after her shift (she's a doctor/surgeon), and she'll go there to read and have a very milky hot chocolate. She would stay there for hours, sometimes even past their closing time. Jonah just admires hers, and let's her stay until he's finished closing down

Eventually he starts to get to know her and then he's sitting with her on his breaks, talking, laughing, being touchy, joking about how milky she likes her hot chocolate.

Hand holding, first kisses, midnight chats, first time staying around at his place and being nervous (above the coffee shop)

His parents also work in the coffee shop too, and they're watching the love grow between the two of you, and they find it very cute.

I was thinking she could bring a guy to the coffee shop because he was upset at work, but instead of biting two coffees, she bought three, one for Jonah too. As if to say "you have nothing to worry about" even though Jonah and yn aren't a couple yet, he really appreciates that and knows what she meant with the coffee, even though she didn't say it out loud.

First dates, first kiss, finding her fall asleep everywhere, her looking cute in scrub tops, moving in and proposing, reflecting on how they met and how beautiful their relationship has become?

It sounds a lot, I know! Simplify it however you want, long or short, doesn't matter! Thankyou very much ❤️❤️

#jonahhauerking

My Milky Way / Jonah Hauer-King X Reader AU

A/N: I'm so, so sorry that it's taken so long. There's been a lot going on in my life lately that made me lose interest in writing for a while (and it didn't help that I lost the story multiple times). But it's finally here. I really hope your guys will like it. It's basically a set of short stories.

REQUESTED BY ANON

Summary: Jonah owns a little coffee shop in the outskirts of London and every time on your break you go there to rewind. But as time passes, you find that the coffee is not your only reason for coming there. Warnings: A little cringe sometimes. Can't really think of anything else. Word count: 4415.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It was cold out. The snowflakes fluttering down from the gray clouds as the cold wind colored your cheeks a rosy pink. Pulling your coat tighter to block out the winter cold, your steps quick as the snow crunched under your boots.

Winter was nice. As long as you were inside, curled up under a warm blanket with your fuzzy sucks and a good book. But people didn’t stop getting sick just because you wanted a quiet winter, quite the opposite, in fact. Winters were the busiest times at St. Louis Hospital and being a family medicine doctor, you dealt with a lot of variating cases. But luckily there was ‘The Pink Deer’, a small, cozy coffee shop just outside of Central London.

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth when you saw the front of the shop, it’s wood curling around in pillars with the words ‘The Pink Deer’ engraved into the wood in bold letters above the door. Hearing its little bell above the door ring was enough to give you a sense of calmth, together with the warmth inside and the scent of freshly baked goods that filled your nostrils.

Inhaling deeply, you let your coat fall open and stepped up to the counter. “One hot chocolate with extra milk to go, please,” you order, offering the young man behind the counter a soft smile.

“For Y/N?” he questioned, his eyebrows raising slightly as you gave him a surprised look.

“How did you…?” You didn’t need to finish your sentence as he pointed at your chest, your name embroided on the blue scrubs above your breast pocket. Chuckling softly you look back up at him, your cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah, uhm, Y/N,” you repeat your name.

He wrote the order down on the cup before going about preparing your drink. You didn’t notice it until you had left the coffee shop that next to your name, he had drawn a small winky face, earning a soft laughter from you.

A few days later you returned to the coffee shop, placing the same order, except this time taking a seat in one of the booths in the far corner by the window. Pulling the book you had brought from your bag, you got comfortable in the corner. You liked to bring a book with you, even if you did not read it. Although working with people was fun and very fulfilling, it was nice to have a moment to yourself and you knew that with a book in hand, people would be less likely to disturb you.

“Hot chocolate, extra milk,” you heard a voice say as your order was placed down in front of you. Looking up only to say thanks, your gaze couldn’t help but linger as you saw the same boy from a few days ago standing there.

With a soft smile gracing your lips, you replied: “Thank you, sir.”

Not noticing the evening fall, you sat in your corner, enjoying your copy of Little Women. Patrons came and went and most of the staff had already left the coffee shop and moved on their way home.

“Sorry, miss, but we’re closing,” a girl announced, making you look up from your book, acknowledging her with a small smile. You were about to gather your things and leave when the man from earlier spoke up again.

“Don’t worry, you can stay a little longer if you’d like,” he spoke up, his words catching you by surprise. “We’re uhm, we’re staying open a little longer because this evening is a special anniversary for The Pink Deer,” he explained and the girl gave him a confused look, unaware.

“Thank you,” you reply kindly, turning your attention back to the book.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Days turned into weeks and you kept on returning to the coffee shop. At first it was just because you liked the peace and quiet it brought, but eventually your motives started to change. Hiding behind your book, your eyes kept on returning to the young waiter.

He was quite handsome, you surely weren’t going to deny that, but it was his eyes which caught your attention. Blue like the stormy nights at the uncharted seas. They drew you in and you found yourself unable to focus on any word in the pages of your books.

And when he smiled, those beautiful blue eyes lit up and dimples carved into his cheeks. You were curious about him, but too shy to make any move, in fear of it becoming awkward. So you were surprised, pleasantly so, when he approached your booth in the table.

“Is everything alright?” he asked you, his voice slightly hushed as he talked, just loud enough to come out over the soft chatter of the other patrons. As you looked into his eyes, you could almost swear that there was genuine concern there. Though there was no reason for a stranger to feel that way, so you shook off the thought.

“Yes, why?”

“You just… I couldn’t help but notice you haven’t turned a page since you got here. I wondered if there was maybe something wrong,” he explained, your cheeks flushing as you realize that he too had been paying attention, that he had been watching you. “Not to pry or anything, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he added quickly, but you held up your hand to ease his worries, lightly shaking your head.

“Don’t worry about it. Really, it’s all good. But uhm, can I maybe have another hot chocolate?” you ask. “Extra milk,” you both say in unison, your blush only darkening.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You didn’t just come during your breaks at work or after your shifts anymore. Coming to the coffee shop had become a daily routine when you noticed your mystery waiter worked every day. Asking around, you had found out that his name was Jonah and his parents owned The Pink Deer.

And every day when you came to get your hot chocolate with extra milk, Jonah would let you stay late. Even after the other patrons had left, you remained in your booth, watching him over the edge of your book.

“You really like that one, huh?” he questioned, wiping down one of the tables as he looked back up at you.

“Yeah, how’d you figure?”

“You’ve been coming for almost half a year,” he begins, tossing the towel over his shoulder and walking over to your table, sliding into the booth across from you. “Yet I bet you haven’t advanced a single page since.”

“I like to take my time with reading,” you state, trying to hide the embarassment that you had been caught. “It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

“Really? I’d figure it would be quite boring after saving people’s lives,” he replied, a teasing edge to his voice as he crossed his arms, leaning forward on the table.

“Boring?” you scoff with a small laughter. “Excuse me, Jonah, but it is far from boring.”

“And apparently you don’t find me boring either,” he grinned and it took a second for you to realize that you had actually just called him by his name. It had simply slipped out, but it had felt so natural that you had not even noticed.

“I like to call it curiosity.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“But satisfaction brought it back,” I add, putting in my bookmark before finally closing my book and putting it down. “People always forget that part.”

“Well, Y/N, are you satisfied?”

“Maybe bring me another drink and I’ll know.”

“Hot chocolate?”

“With extra milk,” you nod, smiling as he got up to prepare you another drink. You watched as he took extra care in putting in the right amount of milk, a small gesture that made your heart flutter.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Ever since then Jonah would join me by my booth during his breaks and after his shifts. He would sit down across from me with his own cup of coffee. You tried to convince him to try the hot chocolate with extra milk, but he insisted that he didn’t like hot chocolate, going with a simple cappucino instead. And every time it would spark an argument of playful teasing on which was better.

“One hot chocolate with extra milk and one cappucino,” Debra said as she placed the orders down in front of us. “And an extra cookie for you,” she gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze, throwing you a playful wink before leaving you and her son be again.

“I never get an extra cookie,” Jonah grumbled, looking between you and the cookie with a pout on his lips.

“You never give me an extra cookie either,” you retort with a quiet chuckle before breaking the chocolate chip cookie in half and handing one part over to him. Had it been anyone else, you would have joked with a ‘Joey doesn’t share food’ pun, but Jonah had the gift where you simply couldn’t deny him, couldn’t tell him no. And a part of you wished he would notice just how far your affection for him stretched.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Today had been a rough day at work and Jonah had noticed how you had not come in during your break, but it was when he saw you enter the coffee shop with another man that he truly felt his heart drop. The smile he wore slowly fading away with a gloom expression fading over his eyes. Normally he would have thought nothing of it. He was not a jealous man, but even if he were, there was no reason to be. You were not his anyway. But seeing you walk in with another man, laughing the way he thought you only laughed with him. It was foolish to think so, he thought. Why would he be the only one you laughed with like that? Well, you were the only one he laughed with like that.

“Daniel, you go take a seat,” you tell your collegae, pointing over towards the booth where you always sat, watching as your friend went to take a seat.

You walk over to the bar to place your order, greeting Jonah’s mom with a small wave and a kind smile before Jonah walks over to you. You couldn’t help but notice the dull look in his eyes. “Jo, everything okay?” you ask him, worried.

“Yeah,” he nods. “Hot chocolate with extra milk?”

“Yes please,” you smile at him. “And a black coffee for my friend,” I add, watching as he scribbles down the orders. “And a cappucino. With an extra cookie.”

He looks back up at you, his smile returning before he scribbles it down with a quiet chuckle. He watches as you go to sit at your usual spot, bringout out your orders a few minutes later.

“Jo, this is Daniel,” I introduce them, scooting over to give Jonah some room to sit. “Daniel, meet Jonah.”

They shake hands and Daniel looks him over before looking back at me with a smirk as Jonah sits down next to me. I place my hand on the table, my pinky timidly brushing over Jonah’s, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks at the small touch.

“You were right, Y/N,” Daniel states. “He’s a catch. Anyway, thanks for the coffee, but I gotta run,” he says, teasingly wiggling his eyebrows as you stare daggers at him. You should’ve expected something like that, after all you had been talking to him about Jonah for months.

“A catch?” Jonah questions, his gaze returning to you, though you were pleased that your cheeks were not the only ones that were flushed. “You know, if you want, you could uhm, catch me here tomorrow evening? 8 PM?”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You didn’t know what to expect, how to view this… impromptu outing. Was it a date? Or just a friendly hangout? No matter what it was, what he had expected it to be, you had probably overdone your preperations. It felt good to put some effort in, especially after wearing those scrubs all day, but there had never been this much attention to how you looked. Your favorite outfit, not a lock of hair out of place and your make-up on point.

It was chilly out, so you hugged your winter coat closer, though it was mostly the persistent pounding of your heart that kept you warm. And then the cold came as you rounded the corner, met with the familiar sight of The Pink Deer, which had become your very favorite coffee shop. But it was the unfamiliar sight of him that brought the cold along. No longer in his working uniform with the stains of coffee on his shirt, but instead in a striking blue suit with a woolen overcoat, a bouquet of flowers in his hand as you noticed him fidgeting with a pocket watch in his free hand. He too was feeling overly anxious, unsure of how you would view all of this.

“Hey, sorry if I’m late,” you apologize as you walk over to him, hoping you had not kept him waiting for too long. But as you glance down at your own watch, you see that you were actually over ten minutes early yourself.

“No, no,” he quickly reassured you. “I uhm, I locked up a little early. You look… beautiful,” he complimented, a pause in his voice as he took in the sight of you with an appreciative gaze, one that made you feel warm again despite the shiver it send down your spine. He shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. “Come on in.”

Unlocking the door to the coffee shop, he allowed you to enter first and you were in awe at the sight before you. The shop had always been cozy, but Jonah had lit a number of candles, sprinkled rose petals around a table in the center with two plates already stood waiting.

He closed the door behind you, fumbling with the keys as he locked the door, keeping the cold out. “Oh, I’ve got you these,” he says, handing you the bouquet of flowers.

“These are my favorite,” you state, taking the flowers from him and inhaling their scent, in awe of the thoughtful gesture. “How did you know?”

“A man never reveals his secrets,” he teases, grabbing a vase from behind the counter and filling it with water. “But uhm, it’s mostly because I’ve been watching you. God, that makes me sound like a creep. I mean… well, I have been watching. I noticed these flowers were on your bookmark, and that they were sewn into your bag.”

“My own little stalker,” you tease back with a quiet chuckle, putting him at ease. You knew well enough that you were no better as you had been watching him over the rim of your book for as long as you had been going to the Pink Deer.

You sat down at the table together, soft music playing in the background as Jonah served you a rather delicious, homecooked meal, talking about everything and nothing at all. You told him stories about your life you never expected to share. Not just the basic stories of how you got into med school and how you are with your family. But you told him the embarressing stories of little you that you thought to take into the grave.

“How about some desert?” Jonah suggested once you had both finished your dinner. “My mom uhm, she made cupcakes…”

“She’s a sweetheart,” you chuckle lightly, giving him a small nod as you finish the last sip from your glass of wine. “I’d love a cupcake. And maybe a hot chocolate with it? With extra-”

“Milk?” he interrupts you, a teasing grin playing on his lips as he takes both of your plates. “Any other requests, darling?” he asks, your cheeks flushing at the pet name, his accent shining through more pronounced than usual. Even though the sound of it was normal, living in England, it sounded different from him. Everything did.

“No, no, uhm, that’s- that’s it,” you answer, a slight quiver in your voice. The hold that this man had on you…

He placed the mug of hot chocolate down in front of you, together with the plate with a cupcake on it, putting one down for himself as well. He pulled the can of whipped cream from under his arm, filling up the rest of your mug to the brim and above before instructing you to: “Open up,” and pour a good amount in your mouth as well, making you giggle at the playful gesture, your hand flying to your mouth to keep from spilling.

“The whipped cream milky enough for you?” he teased.

You wiped the essence from your mouth and your chin where it had dripped down. “Jerk,” you playfully insult him, your eyes sparkling with joy in a way that made time stand still for him. He reached out, gently wiping a leftover bit from the corner of your mouth, his thumb lingering on your lip as he had to fight himself from leaning in and kissing you right there. But he kept his restraint. He wanted to take things slow, to give you both the time to really know each other.

He knew what happened when things moved too quickly, how love could fizzle out, and he didn’t want that to happen. Not between the both of you. So he waited.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You had been going out for two weeks now, spending most of the time you had to spend together. The both of you were on cloud nine and Jonah loved to spoil you by making you little crafts, picking flowers for you and singing you songs.

You were out on another date, having just gone out to get some ice cream and walking through the city. It was late and relatively quiet out as you passed other people. Some were going to clubs or taking a little stroll. You walked hand in hand, close to him as his warmth seeped into you through your clothes. Keeping your hand in his, he swung his arm over your shoulders.

“Do you think we’ll be like that?” he questioned, nodding over to an elderly couple sat cuddled up on a little bench, looking out over the river.

“Old and grey? Hopefully.”

“Together,” he corrected. “Like that. I can see it…”

“As long as you keep taking me out on ice cream dates,” you reply, a hint of playful teasing in your voice as you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling your heart warm at the closeness. “And keeping making me hot chocolate.”

“With extra milk,” he teases back.

You reach the door to your apartment and his arm disappears from your shoulder, leaving you instantly cold, though his hand remains in yours. He walks you to the door before gently tugging you back by your hand. His eyes met yours, seeming to shine brighter as you see the love reflected back at you.

“I want to kiss you,” he states bluntly, causing your heart to skip a beat, rendering you speechless. “I just- I don’t want to push you or go too quickly. Is it too forward of me to ask if I can kiss you goodnight?” His voice softens with each word and you can hear a slight quiver in them, betraying that he was nervous and anxious, waiting with bated breath for your answer.

“Yes,” you answer. “I mean, no. No you’re not to forward and yes, you may- you may kiss me.”

His face lit up, his large hand coming up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb idly caressing your cheekbone as he slowly leaned in. His breath mingled with yours, ghosting over your lips. He hesitated for a split second, giving you time to move away if you so wanted, but you didn’t. Of course you didn’t. You had been dreaming of this moment, of getting to love him, for months.

His lips brushed yours, timidly at first, before you felt him smile against your lips. Your shoulders slumped, your body melting into his as you committed the moment, the touch, the feeling to your memory. Not that it would be the last kiss you would share. But you never wanted to forget this very moment. You loved him too dearly now to let him go, and he was simply enchanted by you.

You didn’t want it to end, but eventually you reluctantly pulled away from him, your eyes remaining shut as you could still feel his touch on your lips. He chased after you, caught in the heat of the moment, before straightening up again and when your eyes finally fluttered open, there was a look of pure joy and adoration in his crystal blue eyes.

“Goodnight, Jonah.”

“Goodnight, love.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You were in Jonah’s apartment, staying the weekend, as you waited for him to come home. He was working late as the coffee shop was hosting a private party for a bridal shower. Sat on the couch in his living room, you were watching The Little Mermaid, one of your favorite Disney movies, humming along with the soft tunes of the songs.

When Jonah finally returned, exhausted from the day’s work, you had fallen asleep on the couch. He looked down at you, shrugging off his coat and tossing it over a chair and kicking his shoes aside, careful not to wake you.

He loved the little moments like these, finding you asleep on his couch or in a chair, still in your scrubs from work. You knew if you changed into your pajamas, the chance was more likely for you to fall asleep so you stayed in your scrubs in an attempt to stay awake. Not that it worked.

He looked down at you, adoringly, as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “Time for bed, love,” he murmured before carefully scooping you up in his arms.

He carried you out of the living room bridal style, into his bedroom, and gently layed you down on the soft mattress. Removing your shoes for you before quickly changing into his own pajama bottoms, tossing his work shirt aside, he crawled into the bed behind you. You felt the warmth of the blankets being pulled around you, Jonah’s strong arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you into his chest. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing your skin softly.

“I love you,” he whispered softly before drifting off to sleep as well.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been a few years since Jonah and you made your relationship official and Jonah had asked you to come over to his place. He was pacing around nervously, muttering to himself as you let yourself in with the spare key he had given you.

“Jo, is everything okay?” you question, growing worried as you find him pacing holes into the floor. He usually only got so nervous when he had bad news, and there was a guilty look on his face as he stopped to look at you.

“No, no, uhm, I- I made you some hot chocolate,” he answered, the sweetness in his voice working to soothe your worries somewhat.

“With extra milk?”

“Do you still have to ask?” he teases lightly, giving you a soft smile as he walks over to greet you with a gentle kiss to your lips. You smile against his lips, your arms sliding around his neck.

You pull back slightly again, looking up at him. “Have I mentioned that I love you?”

“Once or twice,” he grins. “But I never grow tired of hearing it.”

A few hours later you were sat on the couch, talking about your days, but you noticed that Jonah was still a little nervous about something, but you didn’t want to pry to much. That was until he addressed it himself.

“Okay, I uhm, I want to ask you something. But I must admit that I’m a little nervous about it.”

“What is it?” you questioned, feeling yourself tense up as your anxious mind started to work itself into knots again, imagining the worst case scenarios.

“I want you to move in with me,” he blurted out. You had talked about it multiple times, but you had always told him that you didn’t want to move in yet until you were married as you only wanted to do things the traditional route. But before you could argue, he continued. “And I know what you said. About not wanting to move in before being married. You know, the whole… traditional thing. So…” he trailed off, sliding off of the couch, moving down to one knee in front of you. Your heart was hammering, as was Jonah’s. “Y/N, I love you more than anything in this entire world. I have known that I wanted to be with you, to live my life with you, since our first date at the coffee shop. I have memorized a million speeches, thought of a thousand ways to tell you, but there are no real ways to ever bring to words how much I love you. And I promise to always love you. To cuddle you and to make you hot chocolates with extra milk for as long as we live.” Jonah reaches into his jean pocket, pulling out a velvet box, opening it to reveal a beautiful ring, embedded with Swarovski crystals. “Y/N, will you- will you marry me?”

“Jonah, I- I love you so much. Of course I’ll marry you!”

He pulls you into his arms, pressing a deep, loving kiss to your lips before sliding the ring around your finger. A perfect fit.

“Your my world, you know that?” he murmurs against your lips as you playfully nip at his bottom lip. “My universe.”

“And you’re my milky way…”

#jonah hauer king #the little mermaid #imagines #jonah hauer-king #jonah hauer king x reader #jonah hauer-king x reader #jonah hauer king x actress!reader #jonah hauer-king x actress!reader #jonah hauer king imagines #jonah hauer-king imagines #au #coffee shop au

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vee-crytraps · 9 months ago

Note

Congrats on graduating!!! You go!!!!

I know you've already kind of mentioned it in the story, but would it be possible to know more about Y/N's relationship with Cass, Steph and Barbara? I'm swear I'm just so so invested in the lore you've created and want to know everything about it!!! Have a nice day <3

Ahhh thank you! 🤗 Of course! I'd love to get into it! Rambles under the cut!

Barbara is the oldest sister, of course. She's currently 28 and would have started working with Bruce right around when y/n was adopted. Unfortunately she's mostly around for the Batman side of things, but after Dick left and y/n was briefly Robin, Babs started getting a lot closer with y/n and helped Bruce train her. Barbara was the biggest objector to having y/n be Robin. She doesn't like that Bruce trains kids, but at least Dick (and later Damian) had some kind of dangerous lifestyle beforehand. HOWEVER after she realized it was going to happen whether she approved or not, she trained y/n hard to make sure she can protect herself out on the streets. Funny enough, Barbara was also the biggest objector to y/n being fired as Robin after the Mr. Pyg incident. Babs knows it wasn't fair that y/n got sacked for an occupational hazard. Bruce had been on the fence about it but Dick convinced him to make y/n quit. It's a sore subject between Babs and Dick. They did grow apart again after y/n was barred from vigilante stuff. Barbara was already an adult when she was Batgirl, and a lot of her relationship building with the family happens with masks on. The distance only grows when she becomes paralyzed and is Oracle. She's the most aware of how y/n feels left out though, and will be sure to check on her over the phone and send care packages. Sometimes in silly ways, like using drones. Unfortunately, Barbara is like the busiest person in the family because she's running intel basically 24/7. Y/n tries not to bother her, but Barbara makes time for the important things. She for sure helped y/n through her first crushes, and talked with her some about periods, sex and consent. Responsible big sister Babs is responsible. Also confirmed for perfect present giver. Stephanie is 21, and ultimately the sister she's closest with. She stepped in as Robin after Tim quit, but took a shine to y/n since they're only about 3 years apart. Stephanie has the best work-life balance out of all of the girls. Stephanie will organize movie nights, help fix bad haircuts y/n gave herself once or twice, and probably taught her how to wear makeup. Stephanie also tried to keep y/n sharp even after y/n was no longer Robin, but once Bruce found out he wasn't at all cool about it. Stephanie is still in college though, so she's recently become a lot busier. Every year she tries to invite you to winter break ski-trips or overseas for short spring breaks, but Bruce always comes up with a reason you can't go. Cassandra is 20, having become batgirl after Tim becomes Robin. Y/n tries to get close to her, eager for more sisters, but Cass is a little ...well, skittish isn't the exact word. I think Cass is hard to find when she doesn't want to be disturbed, so y/n never knew when she was home. And Cass is never anywhere a normal person would just 'stumble across'. At first she was somewhat confused about why anyone would want to hang out with her, especially since y/n doesn't fight. After some softening, Cass will share comfortable silences with y/n and I think y/n used to read to Cass out loud (in some canon, Cassandra was purposefully never taught how to read by her parents and masters). Cass really likes the sound of her voice, and finds it amusing when y/n watches bad movies and commentates over them. She's a big MST3K fan, probs. Overall, Cass really enjoys knowing life is in the room/around her, but has trouble participating in it due to her trauma. She's a great listener, and when she's around she loves to sit with y/n. Y/n has asked Cass to teach her sign language in the past, and I think they used to have lessons once a week until they dropped off. Sorry for the huge word dump but hopefully that answers your question! Thanks again for asking <3

#v.ask #you guys are the best actually omg #I feel so appreciated!!!

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mysticsparklewings · 9 months ago

Text

Mystic's Museletter - Long Time, No Type!

This blog entry was originally posted to Ko-fi and DeviantArt and may also be read in full in either of those places.

Hey there Sparklers; It's been a while, hasn't it? 😅

So I suppose I should start with an apology, because I am sincerely sorry that it's been almost a year now since I was doing my regular "Monthly Museletter/Round-Up" Posts [on dA & Ko-fi, doing them here on Tumblr is entirely new], and it's also been a few months now since I was posting art...really at all, let alone regularly.

And because of that, if it wasn't already obvious, this isn't even going to be quite like my former "regular" long-form posts. It's going to be long, which itself isn't unusual, but because of how much there is to cover, I'm going to try and divide this all up into mostly self-contained sections, and have a list of those sections (marked by headers of the same title) beneath this paragraph so you can jump/scroll around and read "the interesting bits" at your leisure:

Overview of Where I've Been

DeviantArt's Changes

Other Things I've Been Doing - Part 1: Ohuhu Again! - Part 2: Social Sites & Dolls - Part 3: Everything Else

Peeks At Actual Art Things I've Done

Wrap Up

Overview of Where I've Been

So what happened? Well, the Monthly blog posts were just a victim of my executive dysfunction—I got in my head about how long they usually take to put together and when I'd miss one or put it off too long, naturally that would mean the next one would take even longer to catch up and it just spiraled downward from there.

Clearly, if I want to continue with those going forward, I need to make some changes to how they work so I can actually do them. At the moment though I don't have any concrete plans, but I have some general ideas that relate more to the next section.

Okay, but what about Artwork? I was on a pretty good roll there, especially with Winx Art, and then...Crickets.

This one I can't even fully explain myself. At first, I know I was largely bogged down by the fact that I just kept missing self-imposed deadlines to have certain pieces finished by, and my motivation to post art was majorly crippled by some Changes DeviantArt Made, but I feel like those two reasons alone don't cover everything.

My personal life has also been a bit of a roller coaster these past few months, but that is somewhat "normal" for me, so I don't feel right blaming it on that, either.

My best guess is those things combined with my usual Post-Inktober Funk™ and made a kind of "Seasonal Burnout," sort of like Seasonal Depression (as is fairly common for a lot of people to experience around the holidays and winter months). I've had plenty of creative ideas and was even able to do some other creative things I'll touch on more in a bit, but the motivation to actually draw was just...not there.

The other reason I chalk this up as "Seasonal" is because as the weather has finally, slowly started to warm up, I have noticed some internal changes with myself...Nothing major has happened yet, but I feel more squarely pointed back in a "Drawing Direction," if that makes any sense.

I think the last piece of the puzzle to get me at least sort of back on track is related to those Changes I mentioned DeviantArt made. So let's talk a bit about that...

DeviantArt's Changes

Towards the end of October—Naturally, my busiest month!—All of a sudden, I could no longer edit Deviation descriptions directly in Sta.sh, which I'm sure some of you Sparklers are familiar with.

This matters because I found writing & editing descriptions in Sta.sh much more convenient than typing them directly on the Submission Page. Mostly for formatting reasons, but also as a hangover from many years ago when I lost a a few descriptions that were written only on the Submission Page, which didn't (doesn't?) auto-save consistently like Sta.sh did.

So. That wasn't good, but I figured out that I could still edit existing Text documents that I had in Sta.sh, so I took to writing the descriptions in an old one of those and would copy & paste it into the final Art description later. But eventually, that method stopped working too. (I think around mid-November, but I'm not 100% sure.)

As of right now, you cannot edit any text of any kind in Sta.sh anymore. You either handle it directly (on the Submission Page for Artwork, or using dA's on-site text editor for written work), or you don't bother.

Now, I'll wholeheartedly agree that on paper this doesn't sound like a big deal. And it really probably shouldn't be. But nevertheless, to cut an overly long explanation short: It is/was for me. It felt like one of the last few threads tying me here, to DeviantArt, snapped.

Again, to cut an overly long explanation short, emotionally, that really hurt. I have more or less been mourning the loss of the DeviantArt I first joined back in 2011 as a result. 😞

And to cut one more explanation short: I've been thinking for a while now that it might be in my best interest to start up a more proper dedicated blog for my long art descriptions, and this blow to the way I write said descriptions on dA really solidifies that. I still have to figure out exactly where said blog will be—possibly here on Tumblr* which is why I'm posting this here now—but I have pretty much made up my mind that it does need to exist, one way or another.

(*I'd stick it over on Ko-fi, but as it currently stands Ko-fi doesn't have great organization or archive functions for older blog posts; If it's not recent it's difficult to find, and that just won't work with the blog-ish flow I know I'd need, among other small issues with Ko-fi's formatting.)

With all that said...I don't really want to say there's still a bit of light at the end of the tunnel for dA because that doesn't really feel accurate, but that's the closest expression I have.

Very recently, DeviantArt announced a new overhaul coming to the Submission Page, and while I have extremely mixed feelings about it (because I strongly suspect this is exactly why Sta.sh has been crippled)...I don't hate it. There are things I like about it, I'm mainly just bitter and fearful about Sta.sh's future.

But I also haven't fully put this "Studio" thing to the test yet—That requires actually submitting art. So, perhaps there is yet more hope than I think...

Other Things I've Been Doing

To that end, you're probably wondering about those "other creative things" I've been able to do I mentioned earlier, and also if there is any "proper" artwork to show for these past couple of months.

I'll go ahead and spoil that yes, even though there isn't much of it, I do have some "proper" artwork things I can show you, but I think (as this section title implies) it'll be better to address those other creative things I've been doing first.

Part 1: Ohuhu Again!

Probably the most interesting to you Sparklers will be the revelation that I'm in very early stages of working on a kind of "Buying Guide" for the Ohuhu Honolulu Markers.

I'm sure some of you Sparklers are familiar with my Ohuhu Chart and the unofficial "ongoing saga" of keeping that thing up-to-date. Some newer Sparkles may also have originally heard of the chart and/or me from the Ohuhu SubReddit, because I've spent quite a bit of time over there helping people figure out the best way to get all 363 of the Honolulu colors...since unfortunately, Ohuhu has made that process kind of confusing. 😅

Very similar to my chart sorting out confusion over how many colors there are in the first place, I want to make some kind of fixed resource I can point people to that would hopefully help clear up a lot of that said confusion.

I don't want to get to specific on the details of the "final" guide at this point since it is so early; Rather I want to just tell you Sparklers the actual work I've been doing to make it happen, and that all boils down primarily to three things:

Collecting and Organizing some text-based information (mostly in the form of Spreadsheets), and I was already doing a fair bit of this before I decided to even attempt making a Buying Guide

Fixing up my marker storage. I keep my Honolulus in their original bags for space-related reasons, but I've been meaning to make dividers for the bags to make everything more stable, and Spare-Cartoonist6276's Honeycomb method was the final push to do that I needed to actually do it. The only real downside has been that it just takes a while to construct each honeycomb section (and I'm not even bothering with the pretty color-matching cardstock). Fortunately, at time of writing I only have 2 sections left to go out of the original 11!

Swatching & Attempting to sort every color in a "Proper" Color Order. This is also something I've been meaning to try anyway and how useful it would be became pretty undeniable as I started thinking about how this Buying Guide is going to work. I'm in Stage 1 for this process—As I finish a honeycomb section, I swatch the markers in that section, so when the honeycombs are done, the swatches for colors I actually own will also be done. This is also different from my usual swatching because I made very basic little cards with holes punched in them so hopefully comparing colors and physically arranging them is as easy as possible. This swatching has been a long time coming though and is also taking a little bit longer because...I don't actually own every Honolulu color! I'm missing about 35, all of which belong to the "Pesky 43" that only come in certain sets. And with other expenses and trying to save up for a new website (yep, that Ko‑fi Goal is still active, folks!), I just haven't been able to justify dropping $130+ on yet more markers to fix that problem.

However, after some poking around and discussion in the wider Ohuhu Community, a Reddit User by the name of JayZedHorse very kindly reached out and offered to send me physical swatches of the missing colors! They are en route to me as I type!

There are still many small ways in which this isn't a completely perfect solution, but it is still a very solid step in the right direction and I am eagerly counting down the days until I have those swatches in hand!

So at the moment I have the small goal of being finished with the Honeycombs and my own swatches before the swatches JayZed sent me arrive; That way I should be able to jump pretty straight into the comparisons and start on color arrangement. But, fortunately, even if I can't be finished with the honeycombs by then, it won't be the end of the world. Both things will get done either way, it'll just take a little longer.

But that is about all I have to say about this Buying Guide that I think you Sparklers would be interested in, for now, so on to the next subject...

Part 2: Social Sites & Dolls

I'll start by saying there are two Social Media sites I've been semi-active on and so people that either follow me in those places or frequent the same communities I do will probably already have a few ideas of the other ways I've been flexing my creative muscles lately. [...And Members of the Sparklers' Club Discord Server will also have seen a fair bit of the same posted directly in there!]

As I sort of mentioned with the Ohuhu section above, I've been spending quite a bit of time on Reddit. It's not my favorite place on the internet, but I do like that I've been able to have long-ish form discussions about things over there that I would be pretty hard-pressed to cleanly fit inside of art posts. That's where most of my writing muscles have been getting their exercise.

The other one, and probably a little more interesting to you Sparklers, is BlueSky, one of the half a dozen "Twitter Replacements" that's been floating around.

To be fair, there were points where I thought either Mastodon or Threads were going to be my "Twitter Replacement" of choice, but ultimately neither ended up sticking with me and I'm not really sure why. It's possible the same will eventually be true for BlueSky as well, but so far even without fresh art to post it's been jiving decently enough with me.

I've mostly been posting Doll Photos over there; Literally the month after I lost the will to keep up with the monthly blog posts entirely, my interest in Fashion Dolls was finally renewed after a probably 5-6 year hiatus with one Karla Choupette.

I'll spare you Sparklers the nitty-gritty details (especially since I think I may be able to delve into them more appropriately in the future 😉), but suffice to say after falling in love with Karla and Monster High finally producing dolls I actually like again that I've been having a bit of a "Doll Love Renaissance" and I have taken probably a gross and shocking amount of photos of small plastic ladies over the course of the last year.

I don't know what it is about BlueSky that's made me genuinely want to share over there—It certainly isn't a massive following or massive amounts of engagement—but there is something, and it's pretty nice when previously I had to really talk myself into sharing anything that wasn't directly art-related over on Twitter.

Aside from just letting you Sparklers know I'm active on BlueSky at all, this is also relevant because I've taken to fairly regularly making things for the dolls—Mostly tiny crochet clothes, but a few other accessories too, like a belt I recently made to cover up uneven stitching on one doll's dress. And sometimes I re-paint details on certain dolls as well, but nothing super dramatic like some Doll Customizers do!

I would eventually like to compile photos of all (or at least most) of the things I've made for the dolls and maybe actually post them at least over on Ko-fi, and maybe here on DeviantArt too, since I am pretty proud of a lot of them and I think they'd be mildly interesting to my audience. But there are no concrete plans for that at the moment, just wishful thinking.

One related thing I do have slightly more concrete plans for though is the release of a Crochet Pattern—I got a little tired of the lack of pants options for the Rainbow High dolls, especially non-skinny ones, so I did some research and muddled together a pattern for some fitted bell-bottoms. I think the pattern itself is pretty much ready-to-go for sharing, but I did want to make one last test pair of the pants first (this will be the third pair in total) just to make sure one of my yarn recommendations works as well as I think it will.

The pattern will 100% be posted in the Ko‑fi Shop when the time comes, I'm just not completely sure if I'll be attempting to post it (or example photos at least) to DeviantArt as well, but...probably. We'll see!

Part 3: Everything Else

There is one more "not proper art" thing I've been slowly chipping away at that I think you Sparklers will find interesting.

...To be fair, there are some other much smaller things that I've shared with the Sparklers' Club on Discord that would also fit in this category, but they're not as interesting and would normally be saved for the "From the Archives" section in a Monthly Round-Up, so I'd feel out of place discussing them here.

Anyway. I've started the maybe-minorly-insane project of maintaining a Wiki for my Winx Club OCs: "The Mystix Dimension."

I've been keeping a running Google Doc with information about said OCs over the past couple of years as I've been doing major redevelopment on them, but I was getting tired of the limited ways to organize everything in that format.

After a lot of research that ultimately ended up going nowhere, I opted for the format I know best. I spent quite a bit of time making pages for my most-used Winx OCs on the Winx Fanon Wiki back in the day, but in the present I wanted the freedom to mess with the Wiki's code to both make it look more like the "official" Winx Club Wiki and also tailor it more to my own specific needs.

The "Mystix Wiki" is still very Under Construction with a lot of stuff missing, but it is slowly but surely getting there and most of the "bones" are in place.

So if you Sparklers are curious about my Winx OCs specifically, you can pop over there and have a look around—Of the information there, there's already a nice sampling that's pretty different from what long-time Sparklers may remember of my OCs from the earlier DeviantArt days when I was posting about them super regularly. 😉

A side effect of the Wiki that I semi-expected though is that it has made me realize how little I've actually drawn of my OCs even though they've been pretty consistently on the back of my mind for months. So I think pretty soon there are going to be more new Winx drawings in the works as I continue to fill out the Wiki. 😆

And speaking of drawings in the works...

Peeks At Actual Art Things I've Done

Now, as I mentioned at the beginning of this post, I definitely don't have a lot in the way of Work-In-Progress (WIP) Drawings, but I do have some that I started on before this unintentional hiatus. While I'd normally save some or even most of the WIPs for a Monthly Round-Up instead, given the circumstances I think it only makes sense to go ahead and share them with you Sparklers here and now.

We'll start with a few that should be recognizable as "updates" from the WIP Palooza that I posted back in August:

Firstly, and this will most likely be the next finished piece I actually post, I did finally polish off that sketch of Karla Choupette in the Winx Club art style. (And this is what I meant earlier when I mentioned I might be able to elaborate on my Doll Renaissance feelings later—The description for this piece would be a good place to do that!)

...I'm not showing the completely finished version here because I would like there to be some surprise when it goes public, and also even after all this time I'm still not 100% on the background I chose. So it could still change before the final post.

But Karla herself I'm happy with. I have no idea if I'll ever draw any more Rainbow/Shadow High characters in the Winx Style, but the door is open if I decide I want to.

Next we have...heh, My Winxsona in the Fan Transformation Formalix, better known as "Winxsona Winter Week 7". Incredibly, unbelievably late for "Winxsona Winter" at this point. But nevertheless, I started on the final two pieces for the series and I do want to finish them!

This one isn't fully finished like Karla, but it isn't too far off. It mainly needs shading and a background...And if I had no clue what to do for a background for Karla, then I have like -5 clues what to do for this one. 😅 I'll figure something out, though!

Likewise, I also have the "finished" sketch for "Winxsona WInter Week 8," or: My Winxsona in the Fan Transformation Dimentix.

Mystic Stars and Above on my Ko-fi already saw this WIP back in July, but this is much further along than you Sparklers saw in the WIP Palooza; At that time I had the concept sketch for the outfit and the wings done, and the pose, but I hadn't drawn the outfit on the pose yet.

The Dimentix wings are also ready for coloring (and the Mystic Stars & Above saw this one already too), but they won't be colored until after I get the flat colors down for the outfit/main image so I have a better idea of what colors should go where:

Again, no clue for the background on the finished Dimentix piece, but push-come-to-shove, I can skip a proper background and just recreate the..."wallpaper" effects that were used for the original Dimentix images made by FlorainBloom back in the day.

That leaves us with the two final WIPs I have to share, but for my Winx-loving Sparklers, I think they'll be the most exciting...

Yes, over a year later, I'm picking up the "series" that technically began with Light that Burns the Sky! 😁

Originally, I wasn't sure "Dark Enchantix" (or, my preferred name that I way overthought: "Incantix") would even be a series, but the response to Bloom and Stella was so positive [the Time Lapse has over 20,000 views on YouTube!!] and I did enjoy the concept so much...Yeah, it only feels right to give the rest of the Winx the same treatment. 😄

As you can see, I've managed to come pretty far. Tecna and Flora have most of their shading done, so next for them is getting their wings in order, then the background (and I plan to use basically the same background that Bloom and Stella got for everyone, so that shouldn't take too much work). And Layla and Musa are pretty far along too...However, I have gone back and forth a bit on Layla's blues and Musa's golds/yellows.

Once again, I'll spare you the nitty-gritty for now, but was one of the challenges for my "Incantix Vision" from the beginning and is the smaller part of why these two drawings have been delayed so much. [...Y'know aside from the other things we talked about at the beginning of this journal.]

The other thing is that I lost my mojo for these two pieces specifically because I had hoped I'd get them finished by the end of the year to submit to a Winx Club fan project, and clearly that didn't happen. (I did go ahead and submit Bloom & Stella since they were finished, though!)

However, that fan project recently re-opened submissions through the end of May this year, so naturally I'm feeling a bit of an itch to see if I get can them both finished by then, even if it's just the still images and the Time Lapses (which only make sense to make since the first one did so well) have to wait a bit longer.

...Considering it's nearly the end of April now and I'd like to get at least 1-2 other things posted before I jump back into Incantix, and all the other circumstances, I obviously have my doubts about whether or not that will happen. But, who knows, maybe telling you Sparklers about it at this stage will be the extra encouragement I need.

At the very least, you Sparklers now know those finished pieces are coming eventually even if it isn't in May, and that was the main point in sharing the WIPs anyhow.

Wrap Up

So. Now you Sparklers know where the heck I've been and some of what I've been up to in my time away.

I really didn't mean to more or less up and disappear and I am not happy that I have so little to show for my absence...But there's no time machine to go back and un-do it all, so for better or worse it is what it is.

I am, however, writing this blog post in the hopes that it'll be the "permission" I need to give myself to at least attempt to get back into an art posting rhythm.

As I touched on in the previous section, I do have a vague plan for my next finished piece to post, but it felt kind of wrong to just randomly go back to posting art like the past 4-5 months didn't happen with no explanation, especially over on Ko-fi. So here we are.

And...Beyond that, I really don't know how to end this. It feels a bit cheap to leave on my previous usual blog post send-off when this one is so different in nature...But I also don't consider myself as very good at ending these things in the first place. 😅

I should say though before I go—I really, sincerely do appreciate you Sparklers that have stuck by me in one way or another while I went radio silent. Every like, comment, whatever—I've still seen them all while I was away, and those are the little things that keep bringing me back when I do hit rough patches like this. Knowing that at the end of the day the art things I do matter to someone out there. It means more than I can put into words. So thank you, Sparklers, for just being there.

Hopefully, it won't be too much longer before I can share some new things with you Sparklers to make it really worth your while. But, until then, as always...

Take Care and Sparkle On ✨

~Mystic~

#update #ko fi #ko fi support #ko fi post #blog post #where have i been #xxmysticwingsxx #MysticSparkleWings

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therightonewillstayy · 2 years ago

Text

So as we know Zach is in New Zealand until September. Before we dated I used to be a whore lmao like having 3 guys on rotation having sex 4-5 times a week. When Zach and I started dating it went to 1-2 times a week and then we're he's away at school I only see hime once a month. Now I'm going on 1 month, no dick :( so sad for me. I really enjoy sex and even as an ~emotional woman~ I never get too attached. Casual is okay with me.

Instead of cheating I'm just going to fantasy about this one guy who lives in my neighborhood, who I keep running into. The following is a false situation. The only things that are true are how we get and when I saw him again (I did not share my phone number with him). Lol for legal reasons I feel like I need to state that.

One of my favorite antique stores is closing, they have been in the city for 28 years and the owner decided to sell the building. This was the last weekend they were open and it was also my payday weekend. I budget $50 to spend on whatever I wanted. I put on a red polka dot dress that was a halter top and a white cardigan and walked out to the bus stop. My dress was long and it was windy, I sort of felt like Marylin Monroe but I had biker shorts on so I wouldn't flash anyone. I held my dress down while waiting for the bus about 10 more minutes.

A guy was walking over, wore all black, 5'11, dark blonde hair and a five o'clock shadow. He was attractive. If say he's in his mid to late 30s. He sat on the bench I was standing next to. I was reading all of the event posters to see if there was anything that looked worth going to.

"I hate working nights, but ya know gotta make money" he said, his voice was a little raspy but not like a traditional Pittsburgh accent.

"oof nights do suck, I hope it's not slow for you" I replied.

"no, it's actually going to be one of our busiest days"

"well then it should go back fast."

"I hope so, I also work as a carpenter most days but this is the season to make money because I don't like to work in the winter time."

God I wish it were me I thought, im living from paycheck to paycheck.

"good for you" I said with a smile I wasn't sure how else to contribute to the conversation.

"you smell good, I like that perfume and I see you took a shower and all that jazZ, where are you headed off too?"

I felt myself blush, my boyfriend can't smell so he never compliments me and I get gifted expensive perfumes from my parents.

I laughed, "yeah all the jazz, thank you--"

"of course, you're welcome"

"I'm heading to an antique store in the strip, they are closing and having a huge sale so I want to see what's going on"

His eyes got big when he looked at me, " oh my god, that one in the strip is closing? If I would have known I would have gone! I like collecting mid-century things"

I smiled, "that's so cool! I collect Jeanette glassware and the occasional wedgwood."

"I live in the towers and have an extra garage space for my collections plus when people move out they tend to leave a lot of cool things behind and I just take those"

"oh good to know, I am moving in August maybe I'll see if there's something I want."

"where are you moving to?"

"oh uhhh just a half mile away from here, there's an apartment with a balcony"

"I'm Scott by the way, and you are?" He stuck out his hand. I saw that we had a wound on his thumb

"My name is Meg" I shook his hand, he had a firm grip.

"Pretty name" he got up and that's when I heard a bus rolling up. 75, I was waiting for 87. "Well this is my bus. See you around."

"Bye Scott, have fun at work!" I smiled and waved. He looked back at me and smiled. He got on and the bus drove off.

I was smiling, men don't approach me often and so I felt giddy. I'll probably never see him again but nice to meet someone in town.

Thursday rolled around and I decided it was going to be in the 60s today I will wear a skirt and a long jacket. I missed the first bus so I had to wait for the next one at 7:13. Even though I am wearing a long jacket I'm still afraid of flashing people when though I do have booty shorts under so it's not like anyone will see my hole. Lol

I pick up a free newspaper to see what is happening this weekend. I looked up a saw a white pick up truck slow down and roll down the window. Oh God a cat call at 7am, I'm too old to deal with this (I'm 25 lol). I see it has supplies and tools on the back as well.

The truck comes up to me, I recognize it's Scott.

"Hi Meg! How are you!" He says in the passenger seat and a big grin.

I smiled back, "getting ready to go to work Scott, how are you?"

"Much better since I get to see you this morning."

"you're so cheeky"

"I bet you like that about me." And sure he was right, but I'm dating someone so I can't just agree. I smiled.

"meg, what are you doing Friday? Give me your number." I mean my bf is in new Zealand. I don't have any plans with my girl friends...is it wrong to want to make a new friend? Probably because we both know this flirting. But I enjoy the validation, I rarely talk to my bf. I know I'm in the wrong and yet I find myself giving him my phone number.

The light turned green, "I'll text you. Dress something like you are right now." He looked me up and down and waved as he rode off. I blushed and waved back.

Fuck, I'm in trouble.

Although I'm not all of the blame, this skirt makes my boyfriend go insane. He can't keep his eyes or hands off me. I love when he undresses me, he put so much care into appreciating my body. He's so gentle. I miss him.

After work I walk to the bus stop and I see three guy behind me. This time I don't have a jacket on. I check my make sure my skirt is pulled down and look back at them. All of their hands turn down and they look so guilty as if they weren't playing attention to my hands running over my curves.

Maybe it's just my whore mentality but every now and then I enjoy being looked at like a piece of meat. Especially corporate men. They all had hands in their slacks, one looked up at me and made eye contact and immediately looked down. God, I want to be fucked so bad. I need to go on a walk when I get back.

-- for clarification and legality the following did not happen--

3:05pm.

Unsaved number text me "Hi Meg, this is Scott. I'm thinking dinner at J. Tambellini maybe gelato after, and if desired a night cap at my place."

I'm wet already, what is this guy reading my mind? Italian, gelato and walkies and drinks?? That's all I need to be a happy girl. I need to control myself. I have to tell this guy I have a boyfriend, a good one, he just...far right now. I close my phone. I'll text him when I'm on the bus to back home.

4:15 on the bus.

"Sure, I'll be home around 5:15pm, what time is dinner?" I sent, that looked detached right? Like ugh sure whatever, right? God I can't believe I'm over thinking a tone of my text. I taught myself better than that. I didnt save his number.

I look down at what I'm wearing, it's cute. Red two piece with a black cardigan. But the restaurant we are going to see nicer. I'm probably just going to wear my black date night dress that Zach loves.

" 7pm is the reservation do you need a ride? I know you take the bus. Just let me know I can come get you. Don't worry I don't drive a truck." He texted me back 2 minutes after. I cannot give this man my address. Also bold of him to assume I just ride the bus bc I don't have a car. It's actually that I have a car but hate waiting and paying attention in traffic. Especially bc I travel during rush hour. Nice to know he doesn't drive a truck. But the restaurant is a 10 minute walk and I'll be fine. I will be a little chilly so I won't sweat, the streets are well lit too.

5:15pm I get home.

"thanks Scott, don't need a ride. See you then." I texted back . Oh and ps I have a boyfriend. I should have said this but I catch myself shaving my legs and trimming everything else. I'm delusional. And I believe in karma. My boyfriend doesn't deserve this. But nothing will happen...right?

I set an alarm for a 45 minute nap. Before I shut my eyes I send my boyfriend a quick miss you and love you message and some memes. It's Saturday afternoon and I know he's going hiking with his friends over there so he'll be busy. I send him a picture to show him how hot I am. My eyes and face are from a 90s inspired makeup video, he loves that look and my hair is natural but half up and it frames my face perfectly. Kiss kiss I caption it.

6:50pm I wake up. With heels one it will probably take me 15-20 minutes to walk there. I'll be late which I hate doing but I want to make him nervous. I'm so evil. I see a text from him and send a heart. He asked if I was on the way. I'm sure he will understand.

I walk making sure I hold my skirt down. I'm wearing shapewear this time and there this cute lace that is at my mid thigh to smooth out my whole look. When I sit down it saves around the edge of my dress. I know a lot of men like a little tease.

I get to the restaurant at 7:05. Scott is sitting at the patio with two chairs next to each other facing the street as if we will be people watching tonight as well. I see he has flowers, hydrangeas I might add, blue and white ones, my favorite. God, maybe if I just give him head it won't count.

"Meg! Hi! You're here. Did you walk? You look amazing!" He said is raspy voice pulled on my heart strings, I love men who are expressive. Stoic men are great in anime but not in real life. He grabs my hand and kisses it. Our eyes meet. He smiles, I feel myself blush. His lower hand gently rests on my lower back and he guides me to my seat.

"I've always wanted to go here" I said, " just haven't had the time"

"I'll be sure to show you a good time then for your first experience." He smiled, I noticed he hasn't let go of my other hand. His hands feel rough compared to my smooth skin. I feel the callous as he's tracing my fingers.

"I don't want to break your heart," I said, he gave me a questioning look. "I can't eat gluten, I don't want my tummy to hurt" I said in a childish way.

He laughed, " well respectful I have no idea what that means but I know the chef so I'm sure we can get you something."

Our waitress came over. He order escargot as our appetizer, I was surprised not many people like snails. And ordered a bottle of French Sauvignon Blanc. God, this man is speaking my love language. When he left he looked at me.

"You don't have to eat the snails, it's one of my favorite dishes here. I hope you do like white wine." He smirked.

"I like snails and Sauvignon Blanc. You got lucky this time." I smiled.

"oh" he held the flowers toward me, "I got these for you. It was the closest flower that compared to your beauty."

I didn't want to tell him they were my favorite flowers, his ego is already at the amount I like. " Thank you, that's so sweet of you."

The wind blew and I smell a hint of cologne. If my nose serves me right that Ralph Lauren Polo Black. I hope he's got a back up tonight. This Man deserves to be fucked.

"now you are the one the smells good, is that Ralph Lauren?" I asked, tilting my head a little and gazing into his deep green hazel eyes. He smiled, "it is actually. I wanted to match you on your level of class."

I laughed, "Don't mistake me as a classy girl. I can be silly too."

Our waitress came over with the bottle of wine and showed him the label, he approved. She was about to pour him a glass.

"May I have a sample before I commit?" I asked. She poured me about two shots of wine. I swirled and smelled and notice there was a lot of legs. It was crisp, refreshing and a lovely flavor palate. This was a dangerous scene.

"Is this one okay?" She asked looking a little panicked.

"it's lovely, perfect, thank you so much." She poured both of our glasses. And set the bottle in between us.

"I'm guessing you drink wine often then?" He asked raising his glass.

"yes, I'm also just...uhh... particular in what I drink. I prefer old world wine compared to new world." Our glasses clinked.

"To wine and new relationships" he said.

"To wine and new relationships." I agreed with him. Our escargot came out, I haven't eaten it in a while. So I watched him and did the same. We started talking about collecting things. He also goes to the goodwill and gets a lot of wall decor there. His ex comes over every now and then to see the dog they have and apparently compliments him on his taste. He found this mid century kitschy bowl that he found and a painting over his headboard both at Goodwill. His ex...so he is also attached to someone else. That's a good sign for me.

"my ex also collected things when we were moving just like you."

I smiled, "I know it's a bad habit but it was only because of the sale."

Another glass of wine was poured.

"I think it's an endearing habit." I wonder what his ex looked like. Similar to me? I do that too. Look for people who remind me of the one I first fell in love with.

"to be fair I have gotten rid of a lot but I am a collector"

"I understand, like I said my second garage is filled with antiques and china. I always make sure it's organized too. We should go see it afterwards." He said putting his rough hand on my inner thigh rubbing my knee. I'm surprised we aren't getting a flood warning. I'm soaking. We looked at the menu. I should get fish. That way I will get insecure about the smell and won't do anything stupid.

"What do you get here?" I asked him flipping my hair back and resting my hand on his shoulder rubbing his shoulder and dancing on his collarbone. He smelled so good, intoxicating, forbidden.

"usually whatever the special is. But she didn't say so I was thinking of getting the handmade mafalda Giancarlo. What can you eat?"

"I was just going to get the summer salad" I said without thinking, what happened to my fish plan??

"oh so you can't eat the pasta?"

"unfortunately."

"well maybe a steak or chicken or veal would interest you? He makes it perfectly. I promise. A Scott guarantee."

I smiled, "I promise I'll be okay, salad is perfect." He nodded.

Our waitress came over and he order for me and made sure to no gluten, that was nice. Cute but not necessary, there was no croutons on the salad. Another glass of wine was poured.

"How often do you come here?" I asked

"I used to work here, he taught me a lot. Now I'd say once a month. Usually just for pick up though. I don't enjoy eating alone in public." So he knows how to cook...that's a plus.

I felt his hand move up and flirt with the edge of my skirt. I gasped a little. He learned into my ear and whispered, "I see your sensitive." I felt myself blush, with the wine, his smell, the perfect weather. I succumbed to temptation. I wanted to fuck him, hard. The type of sex that makes you question God's existence and your own purpose. He kissed a corner of my jaw. If we weren't in public I probably would have moaned.

"So you think another bottle of wine or..?" He asked.

"I wouldn't mind having a red, a cab would be great."

"You understand me, Meg. I like that." He smirked and signaled for a waiter. A different one came over and went to go grab a Cabernet Sauvignon. A perfect pairing for my salad. Scott made sure it was Italian. That was nice of him. The waiter took the bottle away and our glasses and brought us new ones with wine in them and set the bottle down.

"So you don't work at all in the winter?" I questioned.

He laughed, "Well I'll say this. I don't need to work everyday but I pick up odd jobs. Travel. Spend time with family. How about you?"

"I work in corporate and unfortunately make work the validation of my life."

"that is unfortunate, pretty girls shouldn't have to work." He said removing his hand from my thigh and putting a hair strand behind my ear.

"I'm not sure I can stay in the house and craft all day. I'd get bored."

"I'm sure I could find a way to entertain you." His hand slid under my skirt. His thumb messaging close to the warmth.

I should tell him, but God I want to be touched.

His hand goes back up to my knee. I'm so flushed right now. Our food is being set down and another glass of wine has been pour. 4 glasses already? And I have to walk home? I'm setting myself up for trouble. Wine makes me so horny already. And now I have this man treating me and touching me the way I want and crave. Nothing will happen. You are better than this.

"oh my god, yours smell so good." I grab a fork full of salad.

He slowly removes the fork from his mouth. I wish I was that fork. My salad is delicious. The leaf's are crunchy and smooth and flavorful, it truly tastes like summer.

He tells me a story about growing up in downtown Pittsburgh and how different yet same it is. He said that liberty Ave used to be filled with sex shops and porn videos, he and his friend would sneak peaks walking home. His mom would always yell at them. He wasn't sure how she knew but she knew. And I replied mom's just know. We clinked our glasses and a laughed, mom so always know.

Towards the end of our meal I notice he had a little bit of sauce on the corner of his mouth. I grabbed his chin, "Stay still" I whisper. He froze. I licked the sauce and gave him a kiss where it was. I saw the goosebumps on his arms and I wasn't sure this that was the wind picking up or me. He grabbed my thigh.

"Your going to be trouble for me, aren't you?"

"your favorite worst nightmare, probably." I replied.

Final glass of wine was poured.

Scott asked for the check, "So how are you feeling? Gelato? If not I have some at my place we can eat later. We can check out the antiques in my garage."

What if I just blew him in the garage?

"ummm" I really should have said something. But also maybe he would give me antiques. God I'm such a whore. But I love history. "can I run to the restroom quick and then we can go see antiques?"

He grabbed my hand, " Of course, it's through the door to your right" and kissed it. His lips weren't chapped. Zach's are an I always have to remind him to use chapstick or something. It's not fun kissing chapped lips, it hurts. I stand up slowly. I am drunk but I am not a fool. I make my way to the restroom, hopefully I looked graceful. Well maybe when I get out he will have left because he decided that I remind him too much of his ex and he needs her now. And then I can return to my apartment. Faithful.

I take my rings off and put them in my purse. I check my purse, wallet with ID and cards, phone, keys, and lip gloss and my saving grace: baby wipes. I piss. And stretch, okay just for antiques nothing else. Your mother didn't raise this way. But then I thought. My mom knows that I'm kinda in love with someone besides Zach. And she's just like no worries, you're young it's okay. And that's probably what she would say too. God, meg, now here you are justifying and assuming. Get a grip.

I clean myself up, put on some deodorant and a little refresh.of the perfume. And walk out.

He's waiting outside by the gate. He looked so handsome. A knot Polo, probably a good will find, with slacks and brown leather loafers. His hair was styled. He looked down at his watched and pressed a button.

"I set the timer for 5 minutes and then I was going to check I'd you were alright." Oh God that probably means I wasn't graceful going to the bathroom.

"oh, thank you. I feel better." This is true. Being full of liquids and good food. I needed to get something out. He held out side hand and I took it. We walked to his apartment. About 5 minutes.

"Wait, this isn't your antiques are?" I said. Frowning.

he laughed, "Don't worry I promise you'll see them. I have go up to my apartment and get the key."

Oh, I should stay down here then.

"is it okay if I stay in the lobby? I can't to elevators right now." This was a lie. But I cannot be in a private place with him...though I want to.

He kissed my hand again, "don't miss me too much then"

I was suddenly cold, his warmth left me. I looked around the lobby. Much better than my apartment....which did not have a lobby. It has some work stations, art fixtures, pretty lights, funky chairs. I wonder how much rent was here..and I'm pretty sure he has a 2 bedroom. He worked hard for it, that's for sure. I felt like Lana. In love with possibilities but faithful to herself.

I felt a hand and wrap around my waist and pull me close. Scott lifted my chin to his attention, he smelled so good. I wanted to mess up his hair. "Did you miss me?"

"Every second felt like an eternity." I said, on autopilot. How cheesy, me admitting that I miss a man of any sort. He kissed my nose and grabbed my hand. "Let's go then"

We walked down a hill, next to the building. And into the garage. It was so wild to be inside of here. Outside it looked grunge, no windows. But inside felt like I was inside a car show. I wondered which one was his.

"my car is on the floor below, in a private section. The garage is just right here." There was a row of 5-8 storage looking unit. I was nervous to go in. A private and small place is not where I should be with him. He opened the door a led me in.

"Oh my god" I said, he was worse than my mom. Lots of collections and bowls and china sets. "Dude! This is so cool!!" He really did keep it clean and organized. He had so many colors and eras. I was so impressed. He also have a lovely green couch. This area felt bigger than it was on the outside. I let go of his hand and walked around the shelves. I heard him sit on the couch. This space was climate controlled too.

"Scott, you have an amazing eye." I said looking to him through the gaps.

"thank you."

I spun around the aisle. Ugh I wanted everything! This is a new goal of mine now. To make money and be still organized. I returned back to Scott but didn't sit down. I was wearing shapewear, yes, but it has a purposeful crotch hole big enough to do anything without take anything off. That's where I probably made my Mistake.

"Come, sit down with me, Meg, will you?"

I went to sit in the middle section and he moved over and guided my legs and hips to where now I was sitting on top of him, facing him, legs straddled on both sides of him. His hand rested on my lower back, messaging. My arms wrapped around his neck. He was eye to eye with my cleavage and a golden cross. He kissed it. I let out a deep breath I didn't realize that I was holding my breath. I looked around to see if there was a camera or something.

"Don't worry, I won't fuck my girl here. I just want to be close with you." He said placing his hand on my jaw and guiding it to his attention. I felt myself get wetter with each moment. My girl? Me?

I relaxed my hips on top of his cock, I felt it pulsating beneath his clothes. I was going to be in trouble. My trace his ear, down his neck and on her collarbones. His arms were study and tones.

"So you're telling me there is a camera in here?" I leaned into his palm.

"Yes, I gotta make sure my things are safe." Makes sense. But it would be kinda hot to fuck in here with a camera even.

So I asked, "well, who monitors the footage?"

"Now look who's the cheeky one is now," he smiled and kissed me deep. I felt his hand grabbing my ass and controlling my hip movements. His other hand made it's way to my breast. I felt my nipples getting harder. He tasted of wine and desire. I ran my hands through his hair, he moaned. I kept kissing him only breaking for small breaths. His hand made it's way to my long hair, he grabbed it and pushed me in closer. His other hand went to my neck and turned my head and he started to kiss down the side of my throat to my chest.

"you said you couldn't go on an elevator but I can tell you want to ride."

"I lied" I said

"about which part" he asked kissing my wrist. I grabbed his hand and did the same thing. I started suck on his finger.

"Fuck, meg." I felt his cock jump, like it was going to break the zipper it's contained behind.

"I can go on an elevator, but I'm allergic to dogs." I said moving his hand down my dress into my bra.

"hmm, so it's good news that I don't have the dog this week? And that I cleaned?" he said gently rubbing my breast and pinching my nipple. I left out a soft moan.

" I guess that makes you the luckiest guy in the world."

He smiled and pulled me in for another deep and longing kiss. My lips felt plump and I felt dazed. He kissed me as if I was the one he's been looking for, as if I was his girl forever.

We made our way to his apartment. No kissing or touching on the elevator. I made him stand opposite of me and we just looked at each other, undressing one another with our eyes. He lived on the 10th floor. And again his apartment was clean. I will never let him come into mine, I'm so messy.

"Drink? Gelato? Your call."

"Water would actually be great."

"sparkling or still?" Wow maybe...I died and this is heaven. Everything is so perfect.

"Still is perfect"

He pours from a glass bottle he had in the fridge. He just like me for real. I looked around his apartment, it looked like an interior decorator was here. He had a lot of antiques here too, including that one bowl he was talking about when we first met.

Again his arm wraps around my waist and he hands me a glass of water. It's Jeanette glassware..not the style I have but another line. He kissed me forehead and I see him make himself a drink. I walk over to his bedroom, we exchange glances as I walk in. He does have a head board. I take off my shoes, leave them besides his. The carpet is rich and luxurious.

I lay down on the bed on my side. This duvet cover is a light olive and probably the softest one I have ever felt. It basically just called me poor.

"Enjoying yourself?" He said holding an old fashioned in his hand.

"Yes, you make one strong glass of water." I smiled and took a sip. I noticed he untucked half of his shirt.

He started walking over to me, rubbing my ankle, he took and sip and said, " I like how you look in my bed. I hope it happens more often." He was still holding a hard-on. I sat up and set my water down on the bed side table, he followed.

"Scott" I said in a sweet voice.

"hmm?"

"I don't think I ever said thank you for the meal it was--"

"oh there's no need" he started to say, I stood up and pressed my finger to his mouth.

"Don't break my eye contact." I kissed him and started undoing his belt. He hands went for the strings of my wrap dress. I looked up him and got down on my knees. I moved his pants down. I started to rub his shaft before I removed his underwear. I could barely touch my fingertips together when I pulled him into my mouth. He gathered my hair but didn't do anything thrusting or pushing. I spit on his cock and sucked on the tip and with every forward motion I went a little deeper until I was able to reach my hand at the base.

"Fuck ...Meg..you can't do this to me like that" he moaned

I sped up a little until I felt I got sloppy enough then I went back to just sucking the tip for a little bit and then deep throating him completely. He moaned and I felt him shake like he was holding back. I moved back and looked up and him and kissed his tip. I saw his heart melt.

He whispered, "Can I fuck the pretty face of yours?"

I smiled, still rubbing his shaft, he lowered my chin and said, " open wide" I did and stuck my tongue out. I felt him hit the back of my throat. I didn't have a gag reflex but I faked it, he helps with a man's confidence in bed. And I wanted to be fucked good.

"Jesus" he cursed. Still holding my hair white slamming the back of my head into the side of the bed where the duvet still fell. I wanted him to finish in my mouth but not yet. And I guess he read my mind because he stopped.

He held his hand out, "stand up, I want to show you something." I nodded and grabbed his hand to stand up. I reached the bottom of his shirt and he immediately pulled it off. He took off my dress slowly admiring the lace, and each seam. God I wanted him inside me. He grabbed my legs and lifted me on to the bed, I was sitting on the edge. He kissed me passionately and undid my bra one hand while the other was rubbing my thigh.

I grabbed his left hand and sucked the two middle fingers.

His other arm secured my back and move me further on the bed and him on the bed. He's so strong I thought. Those two fingers travelled down.

Before inserting he asked, "May I?"

I nodded and he slide inside me, "God your drenched." And kissed me. His thumb gently rubbed my clit. I felt myself lose control. He started kissing my neck, "Scott, fuck me please." His switch his finger for his cock. He was bigger than most, he entered gently and looked at me as if to make sure I was okay. And the truth was, I was in ecstasy. I started to moan a little louder with each thrust.

"Do me a favor and take a deep breath." He said.

I did and as soon as I was about to exhale he started to choke me. I think I came just from that motion. He kissed me and said "now exhale" I got such a rush. He hand went from my throat to my breast.

"That's a good girl, now you can have a taste." He put his fingers inside my mouth and we kept making eye contact. He started to thrust slower and whispered in my ear, "I'm going to cum soon... Where do you want it?" I wanted to say inside me, but I recently just got off birth control. And his current movements made me cum again.

"Scott," I gasped, "I want it on my chest."

He smiled, "of course." He went hard into me and grab my hand and held it has a grip the sheet. I felt myself going numb, I came again. He pulled out and finished on my chest. I pulled him into my mouth and he moaned deeply and collapsed to the side. We both were taking deep breaths. I giggle.

Oh God. I'm in so much trouble.

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straycatboogie · 1 month ago

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2024/12/13 English

BGM: 4hero - Universal Love - 4hero Remix

This morning, I joined the daily English Zoom meeting as usual. Today's theme was about an autistic artist Lito, who cuts old leaves to make various collage arts. As I have written in this journal, I'm also an autistic guy interested in his art. After that session, I went to AEON to try to read something, however I couldn't concentrate on reading. A sort of slump? Finally, I gave up thinking about something anymore and went to the bookstore to buy a new one, but couldn't find out.

From my workplace, I heard that this winter season we would be able to get the bonus money, so started wondering what I should buy. Definitely, I have been interested in the new version of Kafka's journal so I sent about the bonus and this book to the admins of my group home. When I started living the home, although the reason was still enigmatic (but probably, the stressful life must have required me to have a lot of meals and snacks), I couldn't have saved any little money I had earned. Eventually, the admins, the previous job coach and I sometimes got together to discuss this issue. So, recently I found that a small amount of money has been saved little by little within my home.

After having a break at my workplace, I noticed that my throat had gotten sore, and in my nose, I had been feeling something bad. I thought this could be a sign of catching a cold or any similar illness, even though my body temperature seemed not so hot. Anyway, I have to be careful about getting a cold or a bad flu because (as I have written) this "joint" period of two years must be one of the busiest seasons for us. Therefore, I decided to start gargling and also wash my hands carefully after coming back to my home.

And… I thought about how I should (or can) have my own "bird's eye" to see various things distant from here to see more effectively/rationally to grasp their real figures. I learned an interesting word from Buddhism, "San-doku (three poisons in the mind)". I decided to ask this to a friend of mine who is working as a priest.

#english #diary #journal #tumblr diary #online diary

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winniegrayson · 3 months ago

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life update that no one asked for:

so october has always been one of the busiest month for me and this year didn't dissapoint. my schedule was full between work, social obligations aka birthdays - a lot of my friends are october babies, libras to be more precise - and other incoveniences.

was I stressed? yes, I was. but I had fun.

my bank account was the most affected (lol). she's crying and so am I.

the main event of the month was actually my washing machine abandoning me. it's been weeks and my landlord is still ghosting me so I had to find a solution: thank god, my cousin lives two floors above me but I couldn't keep using her washing machine so I found a laundry mat a couple blocks from my flat and honestly, life changing. I find it therapeuthic, it's just me and my laundry for an hour and half. I find the smell of detergent and softener and the sound of the washing machine spinning so calming, I literally think of nothing while I'm there.

the fog has officially arrived and brought the cold with it. goodbye sunny days and light clothes, welcome back puffer jackets and heavy blankets.

I'm not mentally prepared for winter and the fact that I'm living in a couple of weeks for a destination where it's always hot it's not going to help and I'll be gone for three weeks so when I'll be back it will be colder here.

I had to ask to be put on closing shift only for personal reasons and I'm not going to lie, I miss opening. but I'm not really a morning person so now I can sleep in if I want. the only con is that the only time I'm free in the evening or at night is during my days off so I have to schedule all my outings. no more last minute dinners or drinks..

#digital diary #blog #home & lifestyle #writing

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grantgoddard · 1 year ago

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Knock me down with a mugger : 1986 : Share A Capital Christmas, Capital Radio, London

Blam!! A sudden force on my back knocked me over in a second. No time to figure out what had just happened. I was sprawled front-down on the floor with a weight on my back. I shouted. People around me screamed. I could sense a struggle taking place overhead. The object on my back lifted and, from my ground level line of sight, I made out the feet of someone running ahead of me into the crowd.

“Are you alright?” asked one of the group of people standing around me, looking concerned.

“We saw that man push through the crowd,” explained another, “then knock you over and jump on top of you. We managed to pull him off but he ran away.”

They helped me to my feet and I realised that I was indeed alright and thanked them profusely for their swift action rescuing a complete stranger. I was wearing a thick winter coat that had broken my fall. I had been lucky not to have hit my head and to have landed on the soft bag I had been carrying in front of me. Nothing appeared broken. As I rejoined the throng of commuters journeying home, one of the Good Samaritans added:

“It looked as if he knew you were there amongst the crowd and targeted you. It was very strange.”

Indeed, it was. I had travelled this same journey every day and nothing untoward had happened. I always left work at the end of the afternoon, walked across Euston Road to Warren Street tube station, caught the southbound train and alighted four stops later at Charing Cross, one of London’s busiest hubs. I had been walking through the narrow, low-ceiling tunnel that led up from the Underground platform to the railway station concourse when I had been jumped. The train and tunnel had been more crowded than usual because it was Christmas Eve. It seemed bizarre to be jumped on not when I was alone in the winter darkness outside, but amongst a tightly packed crowd inside a well-lit underground travel conduit.

There was one significant difference between all the other days I had travelled home without incident and that day. Stuffed down the front of my underpants was a white envelope containing a substantial amount of cash representing payment for my last six weeks’ work. I had requested my employer’s accounts department pay me by bank transfer but, for reasons unknown, it had insisted on paying cash and only at the conclusion of my contract. If this money was the reason I had been attacked, then only the accounts department staff and the handful of people in my work team knew I had been paid that day. But the latter had just been paid that same day in the same way. So had I been merely a random victim of violence … or had something more sinister happened?

A few months previously, I had applied for a full-time job at ‘Capital Radio’. I was interviewed by Steve Billington, a social worker who had left his job in 1984 managing a social work team in Harrow to become the station’s head of community affairs. Although my application was unsuccessful, he contacted me weeks later to ask if I wanted to manage its Christmas charity appeal. I was soon to finish a non-renewable, twelve-month job creation role managing a team at ‘Radio Thamesmead’ so it was an ideal time for me to switch to a ‘proper’ job. I had dreamt of working at London’s only commercial music station since it had opened in 1973 and had even contemplated not going to university in order to take a programme production role there like Annie Challis on Tommy & Joan’s daily ‘Swop Shop’ show. Back then, I was innocent of the fact that to secure such a job in the media it was rarely, if ever, WHAT you knew about radio but WHO you knew.

Now, thirteen years after its launch, I was finally working at Capital Radio. My first two weeks were spent in the office, sat opposite the amiable charities manager Millie Dunne who helped me organise files of paperwork for the huge volume of goods she had persuaded businesses to donate, a task at which she was extremely proficient. During the subsequent four weeks leading up to Christmas, I worked in the station’s foyer, organising the receipt of donated goods and their delivery to London charities who would distribute them as gifts to needy families. I managed a small team that Steve had already appointed, all of whom were incredible and worked hard collecting and delivering goods as needed.

Steve had also appointed a ‘deputy’ to help me with the project’s management. His name was Pol. Never call him ‘Paul’! Unlike me, he was loud and extrovert, networking relentlessly with anyone remotely important who passed through the revolving door entrance to the foyer. He seemed to view the job as a sinecure that would permit him to further his ambition to be … something famous. While the rest of us worked long hours and weekends, Pol was AWOL for chunks of that time, claiming that he had had to attend appointments for this or that. In the pre-mobile-phone era, it was impossible to call someone to demand “where the hell are you?” I was regularly tempted to complain to Steve about this young man’s work ethic deficiency but I had no inkling if he had been recruited by some friend or relative within the company. He appeared to possess no relevant skillset for our work so I just had to grit my teeth and hold my tongue.

Despite this frustration, the job turned out to be one of the most enjoyable and rewarding I have done. Knowing that the radio station was making a practical difference to Londoners’ lives was incredibly heart-warming. The foyer – our ‘office’ – was enormous, more than 1000 square meters, with a ridiculously high ceiling and permanent home to three freestanding stalls: the ‘Capital Radio Shop’ sold station merchandise, ‘Capital Radio Jobspot’ offered job vacancy details and ‘Capital Radio Flatshare’ produced a printed sheet every Thursday afternoon listing rental accommodation available. The building’s ground floor full-length windows on a corner site enabled traffic passing on busy Euston Road and Hampstead Road to view the impressive Christmas decorations within, including a massive, illuminated pine tree. Pedestrians would stop and peer through the glass at us working inside.

Capital Radio’s decision prior to the station’s launch to rent the foyer and first floor was a brilliant marketing strategy, as its logo and name were emblazoned across the building at ground level around one of London’s busiest road junctions. To passers-by, it appeared that the station occupied the entire 36-storey tower, the capital’s tallest office block when completed in 1970. In reality, its upper floors were filled with unconnected businesses including the UK government’s military intelligence department intercepting mail. Capital Radio’s high-profile visibility was in stark contrast to its competitor ‘Radio One’ which had operated from an anonymous outbuilding (Egton House) since launch in 1967. BBC bigwigs had feared its youthful staff (including former pirate radio ship presenters) might scare the ‘serious’ broadcasters in Broadcasting House employed on its existing talk and classical music networks.

Another significant difference with its competitor was Capital’s open-door policy, permitting anyone to enter its impressive foyer through the revolving doors without a security check. Music fans would stand around hoping to get a glimpse of pop stars visiting for interviews. Radio presenters walked in and out and up the grand curved staircase to the first-floor studios. During the charity appeal, many generous listeners ventured in clutching their donations of toys which we added to the piles of presents. For amusement, we unboxed and put batteries in one state-of-the-art toy mouse that ran around on wheels with a movement sensor, enabling it to independently charge at speed across the polished floor towards anyone who entered through the revolving door and then chase them wherever they walked. Only on one occasion did we have to close and evacuate the foyer for several hours due to a bomb scare.

Christmas Eve was a sad day when the team had completed the charity appeal and parted ways for the final time. Following my mysterious attempted mugging, I reached home and found I was lucky to have escaped with mild bruising on my forearms. I packed a bag and headed to Deptford railway station, only to discover that the last train had already left. I had to return to my rented room, phone my mother and ask if she would come and collect me as there was no public transport during the next two days. Though she hated driving through London, she kindly drove fifty miles from Camberley to pick me up on Christmas morning so that I could spend the holidays with her and my sister.

In the New Year, I returned to the Capital Radio office to type up a report that catalogued, with Millie’s help, the volume of goods we had distributed during the Christmas appeal and the number of charities and families we had helped. Though no such post mortem had been requested, I considered it ‘good practice’ and I hoped to impress my boss with my thoroughness as a manager.

Much later that year, Steve Billington requested a further meeting in his office. Perhaps a full-time vacancy at the station had arisen? Sadly, it had not. I was asked if I would work on the next Christmas charity appeal. I was grateful for the opportunity. However, I was flummoxed to be told that I was to be demoted to the role of ‘deputy co-ordinator’ despite me having believed I had achieved a satisfactory job the previous year. Then I was gobsmacked to be told that the co-ordinator that year was to be … Pol. It seemed like some kind of voodoo that the person within our team who had demonstrated the least commitment last year should now be appointed to manage the rest of us.

Once activity started in December 1987, did Pol step up to his promotion and manage everything smoothly? No change of spots was evident. The only thing he seemed interested in managing was his own social calendar. It was Hobson’s choice: either the charity appeal would rapidly descend into chaos or I would have to manage it, just as I had the previous year. I took the reins informally, even though it proved frustrating when the most regularly spoken phrase by everyone involved was “Where’s Pol?” The charity appeal proved as successful as the previous year, though on this occasion Pol would take the credit. Did he write a report afterwards, as I had done? Er …

With the exception of the baffling change of co-ordinator, Steve Billington had been a fantastic boss and, in the New Year, he invited our whole team to reunite for a lunchtime meal at a restaurant in Tottenham Court Road to express his gratitude. I was appreciative of the start he had offered me at Capital Radio and the opportunity it presented to further develop my management experience. I had thoroughly enjoyed my time working there and, like my earlier job at ‘Metro Radio’, it taught me a lot about the problems that can befall a commercial radio station.

And so to ‘The Epilogue’:

• In 1988, Camilla ‘Millie’ Dunne (daughter of Sir Thomas Dunne) married The Honourable Rupert Soames (grandson of Sir Winston Churchill) at a society wedding attended by her friend Lady Diana, Princess of Wales.

• In 1989, I co-ordinated and wrote former pirate station ‘KISS FM’s successful second application for a London commercial radio FM licence, beating 39 competing bids.

• In 1990, Capital Radio closed its community department as a result of the new commercial radio regulator ‘The Radio Authority’s ‘light touch’ strategy no longer requiring commitments from licensees to community activities. Steve Billington left Capital Radio.

• In 1991, I attracted a weekly audience of more than one million listeners a week to black music station ‘KISS FM’ within six months of its successful launch, as its Programme Director, exceeding the Year One target.

• As for Pol …

#Capital Radio #career #commercial radio #Grant Goddard #local radio #London #radio #radio industry #radio sector #radio station #media #broadcasting

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inslo · 1 year ago

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I’ve been having trouble sleeping the last week (and had a wild dream last night which I will be writing about), partly because I’m very upset about my October vacation. I always take off the first two weeks of October and that is my annual “reset”. I unsync my phone from work email. I take a trip somewhere for the first week, and the second week is a stay-cation where I start getting my yard ready for the winter. Also my birthday occurs during those two weeks. I try to enjoy the last of the temperate weather, and ‘long’ daylight hours. (I would prefer taking one of those weeks off in September, but I am banned from taking Vacation in September as it is our busiest month) Well as it turns out, this will be the first year in 16 years that I will be working on my birthday. All the way back in March, my supervisor alerted me that my October vacation may be slightly interrupted. He had a family wedding the weekend of Sept 30/Oct 1st and it would likely just be a long weekend. When I touched based with him in August, the wedding had moved to October 7 and it was turning into a multi-workday-off ordeal, but had no details. As of this very moment, he still doesn’t know exactly when he will be off, but I have been banned from taking vacation Oct 4 – 15th as of the moment until he figures out his plans. I have three days off next week and am still unsure about the rest of the 7 business days I would like to take off. If things were as he said back in March, it would be an annoyance, but do-able for me. But as things stand…its formed beyond annoyance and is now anger. What is supposed to be my happiest, most enjoyable and most relaxed part of the entire year has turned into anger

Because of the restless night, I had a ‘wild’ dream. By wild, I mean just all over the place. In an alternate reality, one in which grandpa passed away before his house sold, my brother and I inherited the house. My brother wanted to keep it and I wanted to sell it, it is NOT in a good area of town. For some reason I had a lot of my own personal stuff at his house including papers and an old computer. I worked on removing my items. But also was hungry and looking for a snack. My brother had been using his middle bedroom, and in the bottom drawer of the dresser that was in the room, grandpa used to keep candy. I went looking for candy, but only found my brothers stuff in the drawer.

I also dreamed I ran into mom (who passed away 24 years ago) and she had not aged a day since her passing. She looked young (she was 52) and beautiful, I gave her a big hug as I had missed her.

Finally in another part of this dream, I was at a dinner party with friends, some who I had not seen in a while. People who know me, know I am horrible remembering names and faces….yes, it’s not just names, I can’t remember faces either. One of the friends at this dinner party came up to me and started talking to me. She said that we had often cuddled at cuddle parties in Chicago. I said I missed her and the cuddle parties so much and we got into a hug and I started to tear up on her shoulder.

EDIT: After reading this a few times, I realized that all three parts of this dream had to deal with death in some form. The passing of my Grandfather, The passing of my mom, and the long absence or seeming death of cuddle party....though I know one person in Chicago trying to bring Cuddle Party back. Very interesting.

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strwbrryblues · 3 years ago

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A Budding Romance

Pairing: Lee Minho | Lee Know x Fem!Reader (AFAB)

Genre: Fluff, Slight angst, Fantasy AU, Medieval AU, Childhood friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining

Additional Tags: Florist!Minho, SoonDoongDori can talk (kinda), SKZ 00z and Jeongin aged down, Minju Jungwoo Minho pretty besties, It’s honestly more like idiots to lovers tbh, Cameos from other group's members

Warnings: Talk of insecurities, SeungJin puppy love (yes gonna put that as warning in case some of you are not comfortable), This was not proofread properly, so if there are any kinds of typos, please ignore it (｡ŏ﹏ŏ)

Word Count: 12.8k

Synopsis: In which it’s not only flowers that bloom in spring, but feelings as well. However, you’ve only just realized that they’ve always been there

A/N: This kind of got out of hand hhhhhh I was planning to keep it short and simple but I wanted to add a lot of elements and description, so I got carried away 😭 Also, I still am visibly confused if Soonie Doongie and Dori are all male or female because I believe that Koreans don’t usually use fem or male pronouns sooo.... yeah you’ll see me almost have a crisis with that 💀

By the way, go check out the other fics from @bruh-changbin ‘s spring fling collab once they’re posted! 🥺💗

[Spring Fling Masterlist]

Spring has arrived. The remnant cold that the winter season had left lingered on the streets for weeks, and it was just the right amount of coolness to battle the sun’s heat.

Minho, upon the early kiss of the sun’s rays, had already set up his little flower shop at the corner of Levanter Street. The place was perfect to catch the eyes of any passerby, as the place was decorated with the newly blooms of spring. And it was around this time that customers alike would pick out from his bunch.

Mothers who usually finished up their spring cleaning would buy a couple or three bouquets they would set on their vintage vases. Men and women pick single stems of flowers as a gift for their newly love, or bouquets to celebrate one’s anniversary. Even witches pass by, their brooms speeding to a stop to look for Minho’s rare plants they can use for their crafts.

To say spring was the busiest season for his little flower shop would truly be an understatement. And so, he had to look for someone to be his apprentice.

After consulting with his friend, Jungwoo—the coffee shop owner just beside his shop—they both decided to put up posters, calling out for new hires. The poster being nicely made by you—Minho’s long time childhood friend.

You three gathered around the side of Minho’s flower shop. His cats trailed along, all three sitting down to watch in curiosity the huddle that formed.

“You know, I clearly don’t see the point of you looking for hire when I’m literally right here.” You frowned, hands both resting on your hips as you still formulated the reason for Minho looking for help, when you can do it yourself; considering your job is a night shift at most, you don’t really have anything else to do during daytime.

Jungwoo, who stood at the opposite side of Minho, crossed his arms as well. “Yeah, you can have Y/n at your beck and call, no need for the awkwardness stage if you ever find a recruit.”

You gave an unimpressed look at the taller boy, “really? I’m at his ‘beck and call’?” His choice of words made you look at him pointedly, while he just shrugged and gave you his signature princely smile.

Minho, who was in the middle of you two, was building up a headache from the constant noise. He averted his gaze from the poster he’d just put up, now pinching the bridge of his nose as he clenched his eyes shut.

And while you and Jungwoo bickered, a fourth person entered the scene, specifically another friend in your little group.

“Minho’s looking for help?” Minju asked, dressed in her maid outfit, minus the apron, as she was about to head to the daycare for work. “I thought Y/n was actually getting paid for always helping? I actually think he doesn’t need any more helping hand.”

At this, both you and the taller boy you’ve been bickering with, turned to the new addition to the huddle, agreeing in chorus.

“See! I told you, Lee Minho!” You laughed almost maniacally while pointing at him. The victorious grin not leaving your face as you went back inside the flower shop, Soonie, Doongie, and Dori following you inside as you called them for their breakfast. “I’m always right!” You hollered, the noise being muffled by the glass windows.

The three who were left outside looked puzzled at the bellow of laughter you let out. But then brushed it off, as it was very normal for them at this point.

“Well, you men figure out what you want.” Minju said, gathering her skirt and clutching tightly on the stack of book that was strapped together by leather, resting on her back. “I’m off to work. Mrs. Yang sent an owl earlier, saying that Jeongin manifested his powers and that we need to keep an eye on him in case he blows anything up.”

Jungwoo looked baffled, as he uttered in disbelief, “blow things up? What?”

Minju shrugs, “beats me. Seungmin blew up Jisung’s toy top last time.” The girl had her fair share of the disastrous kids at the daycare. Just last month, the little alchemist - Seungmin, had blown up Jisung’s top, and the management still had to figure out how it happened. In short, Minju wasn’t even surprised anymore.

The two boys watched their friend leave for work after bidding her goodbye. The taller boy then turned to Minho, “you know, I get that you need the extra help an all, but Y/n really is suited for you.” Jungwoo said. “Not just work wise.” He added, winking at the boy meaningfully as he watched the tip of his friend’s ear, burn bright red at his comment.

Minho groaned, as if he wasn’t thrown off guard just earlier. Of course, he can’t hide his emotions well, especially when his ears always give it away. “You know, it’s better if you just shut up and go back inside your shop and start making coffee. I’ll have my usual order.”

Jungwoo just chuckled, knowing full well that the order he was talking about was specifically for you. His friend has always been like that, ordering coffee—or breakfast at that—for the two of you, and insists he just does it out of convenience, and not because he’d taken a romantic liking to you.

Flashing a grin at the slightly shorter boy, Jungwoo went back to his café to set things up. As for Minho, he went back inside to his shop, to see you sitting on the floor with the cats. Seeing you get along with his cats always tugged at his heartstrings and made his stomach flip in happiness.

“Get your ass off the floor. You’re getting my floor dirty.” He contrasted the feelings he felt inside to what he just said. In truth, he wanted you to stay there longer, and maybe he’ll sit with you and play with the cats as well.

You stood up however, much to his dismay. “You’re such a meanie. If you keep being like that, no one’s going to work for you.” You placed your hands on your hips, and frowned at him.

Oh, how Minho wanted to kiss that frown away from you, but he had to keep it all in.

“What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you still be asleep?” He changed the topic, going around the counter to take his spell book, preparing to cast his daily spell on the shop; a spell that sets the mood of the shop, so customers enjoy their short time inside the shop, and feel at peace.

“I would still be asleep, if only Jungwoo had not barged in my house at the wee hours of the morning; asking me to finish and duplicate that poster.” You grumbled.

At the news, Minho stopped his spell midway, frowning at the news. He concluded that he’d have to reprimand his friend for cutting short your precious sleep. “Then go back home and sleep, doofus.”

You shook your head, “no thanks. I’d rather be here, it’s relaxing.” You sat down again, the cats crowding you once more for attention and affection. “You go and try making and serving drinks all night to drunkards, and see if you don’t find this place calming.”

The thing was, you worked the late shift for a local pub, run by someone you were close to. Even if you hated the scene and alcohol in general, you enjoyed the music that was played by a very locally known bard. Staying until late at dawn, but you still bother to get up early to help out with Minho in his flower shop.

“If you insist,” Minho shrugs, having done with his daily spell. Oh, but his inner self wanted to just drag you to his room upstairs—where he’d made the second floor of the shop his homely space to save money—and tuck you in his bed to sleep, so he knew you were well rested. “Pick up my order from Jungwoo.” Minho left the topic as quickly as possible, to avoid him from blurting out a confession.

You quickly stood up, saluting him, before dusting away on your skirt and running out of the shop.

Minho watched your figure leave the shop completely, and to the shop next door. Once he was sure no one was around, he knocked his head on the counter top, letting out a strangled groan. His ears flushed so hard; he was sure it was hot to the touch.

“Oh, my heavens,” he sighed, cheeks resting on the cold surface of the wooden counter. “I can’t believe I’ve fallen for my best friend.” Minho whined to himself.

He didn’t know when he fell for you, other than the fact that he suddenly finds everything you do to be endearing and heart fluttering.

Soonie, his eldest cat, meowed at him. An amulet he was wearing, that was cast with a spell. allowed him to understand the language of cats, and was able to decipher the meow to be a, “just suck it up and confess to her then.”

Minho glared at his eldest. “I can’t just do that. I’d be ruining what we have now.”

Doongie, his second eldest cat, leaped on the counter and started meowing loudly. “You dumbass! How are you so sure that she doesn’t even feel the same way?”

The eldest cat meowed as well, backing up Doongie’s complaint, “yeah. She’s literally the only person who’s willing to spend all her free time on you despite you always saying you don’t like her company.”

His youngest, Dori, amidst the noise of the two eldest, only rubbed its face gently on Minho’s legs, purring loudly as he let out a silent mew, “I like her. I want her to be our mommy, because she takes care of us really well.”

Minho almost died at how cute Dori was. He was about to reply when you barged in, two hot mugs in hand, while a tray of both your breakfast was balancing on your head.

Minho was quick to stand from his seat, taking the tray off your head as he clicked his tongue. “Stop doing things like this or else you’d end up breaking things.” Or you could get hurt. And he would absolutely be disheartened about that.

You apologized sheepishly, pulling a stall towards the counter and hopping on to it. You placed down the mug, waiting for Minho to place down the tray as well.

Once Minho approached the inner side of the counter, he pulled his stall as well, placing the tray and then sitting down. He took your plate of food and placed it in front of you as he placed his in front of him.

You hummed in satisfaction as the scent of eggs and freshly baked bread filled your nose. Quickly, you dig in, another hum resonating from you as you seemed pleased with the way the food was thoroughly prepared. Sipping on the mug carefully, the hot cocoa drink flowed down your throat, sending you comfort and warmth against the nipping coolness of the spring breeze.

“Isn’t today just lovely?” You let out a sigh of content, before continuing to eat.

Minho could almost see flowers blooming around you like spring time. It fluttered his heart, making him want to just pinch your cheeks and coo at you. But the crumbs of bread that littered at the corners of your mouth was enough to distract and bother him. His hand up and moving unconsciously to wipe them off.

“You’re such a messy eater.” He said, now his other hand grabbing the sides of your jaws to halt your movement. The gesture catching you off guard; the beats of your heart suddenly skyrocketing.

After brushing away the crumbs, Minho went back to eating his breakfast as if not an intimate moment had just occurred. His ears begged to differ, however. But you wouldn’t notice that, considering you’re stuck in a conundrum of your own.

Doongie meowed, and Minho thanked the heavens you don’t understand the cats, because the mischievous second eldest just said something really suggestive, that both flushed Minho’s ears to be redder than it was, all the while having the urge to just throw something at the cat for embarrassing him further.

The awkward tension that rouse was interrupted when the clinking of the shop’s bell reverberated around the room. Minho was only then woken with the realization that he had already flipped the “open” sign minutes ago. The bell signaled the arrival of a customer, who had disappeared in between the tall shelves where Minho usually grouped all gardening tools.

“Welcome to Soonie, Doongie, and Dori’s Flora! We hope you’re having a blooming day!” You cheered out the shop’s name, along with the catchphrase you came up with—specifically you, Jungwoo, and Minju, as Minho wasn’t really on the more creative side in terms of literature.

As much as Minho hated that greeting, whenever it was you, it just seemed right. You, and the word “bloom” just fit together in the same sentence. So, always having you say the assigned greetings to the customer was much to his pleasure.

While he was spacing out again in thought of how very beautiful you looked just now, the customer emerged from the aisles, a small rake and a couple of clay pots in hand. You halted eating your breakfast as you quickly tended to the customer.

“I didn’t think you’d need more help Minho?” The old lady spoke—one of Minho’s usual customers in the shop, who you were also familiar with. “Y/n here seems to be a lot of help already.”

This snapped Minho out of his thoughts, only to witness you giggling. It was cute, but he knows there was some hidden mischief behind your laugh.

“That’s what I told him granny! He’s very stubborn, it’s very annoying.” You huffed, though not meaning it. Minho only rolled his eyes at you, finishing his breakfast quickly and gulping down the remains of his now lukewarm coffee—which he found the temperature to be revolting.

“I guess it’s also not bad to get more help, especially during the spring season,” the older woman closed her eyes, chuckling. “You deserve a rest too, little lady.”

Now you huffed out, feeling helpless at the fact that the older woman made a somehow valid point. That made Minho snicker at you, he can’t help but feel the need to stick his tongue out at you just to add fuel to the fire.

After Minho had set aside his used dishes, he took over your work after you’ve totaled the balance in which the woman had to pay. Minho gathered the trinkets the woman picked out, tying them in a green ribbon before casting a light spell—one that lightens the weight of any heavy material for a period of time—and handing it to the older woman.

The spell wasn’t really necessary as the woman can manage a few trinkets, but Minho felt the need to, after noticing that the woman kept on twisting her wrist in discomfort. In addition, with spring heavy on its way, people right now are keener to observe the changing trends and prices of materials and foods alike; sending almost everyone into a shopping spree in the local market place. In this case, the sweet old lady who now just left, would be more likely to roam the market, carrying more and more things as she buys. And Minho wanted to lessen the burden of the old lady by adding a simple light spell on the things she bought from his shop.

He does the same to every other customer that went through the day, especially those who purchased bulks and bulks from him. You mostly wrote down the receipts and recorded every transaction, as well as doing the sweeping and some watering of the plants on display. Minho arranged and wrapped up bouquets upon customers’ request; having more knowledge in the field.

Whenever he does so, you can’t help but stare at him in silent fascination at how knowledgeable the boy is about flowers, their language, and the perfect complement for each. You watch him work on a customer’s request after having done recording the transaction.

His nimble fingers worked gently in arranging each stalk, being careful in hopes of not breaking a stem. And with the gentle afternoon light cascading his features, you were entranced. To the point where you start feeling your chest tightening; deeming his beauty to be out of this world.

“I... uh... I’ll just go get some water.” You stood up from your seat beside him on the counter, very abruptly that it startled both the middle-aged woman—who Minho was tending to their request—and Minho himself. He looked at you still with shock but it returned to his neutral expression, giving you a nod.

“You should take a break too,” Minho said, before turning back to the bouquet he was working on. You just nodded quickly, trying to flee from the scene.

Going to the store’s backroom, you leaned on the door upon closing. Your mind going on an endless frenzy of scenarios that was caused by the scene you just witnessed earlier. Suddenly, Minho didn’t look friendly to you. And it wasn’t in a bad way. The vision that was suddenly haunting you was Minho moving gently and softly from before, despite the crease on his brows, with the setting looking as domestic as ever.

The boy you’d grown to see since young was mature and different from who you’ve grown to know. The scene played out with a gentle, stern looking Minho who was tending to a child. And the child looked oddly like the man himself, but also looked like you. The next thing you know, however, was Minho turning to you and muttering something. You swore you heard him saying, “honey” to you, in a very gentle tone with a sweet smile.

Suddenly, the small room that nestled silently in the back of the shop had gotten smaller than what you have come to know. The air was suffocating, tightening your chest that rendered you to inhale deep breaths.

“Fuck.” A curse unfamiliar to your mouth, has rolled its way off your tongue as your fist clenched on the fabric of your top. “It hurts.” You whined quietly.

The unfamiliar constricts on your chest made you worry.

Why are you suddenly feeling this? It confused you to no end.

Sliding down the door and crouching, you didn’t let your fists uncoil on the fabric as you kept it to feel solace in the familiarity of the texture. Thinking back to times from before, you always did feel a tug in the pits of your stomach whenever you were around Minho. But it was only now that you noticed its heightened activity, to the point where you feel it constrain your chest.

You tried to steady your breathing. And amidst your heaves, a sudden noise startled you. More specifically, one of a cat’s meow. You turn to the general direction of where you heard the noise, only to see Soonie on top of the stacked crates containing some clay pots.

“Oh! So that’s where you’ve been!” You wondered where the older cat wandered off to midday, as only two were present inside the shop.

“Meow,” Soonie replies, which meant to actually ask you the question of, “what happened?” You wouldn’t have known what he was saying so you assumed it to be a different one—translating it to be, “I like it here.”

“Okay, you be careful when you get down from there. It’s quite high.” You approached the orange cat, booping on its nose.

“You know, I asked you a question. It’s concerning that you’re clutching on your chest like that.” Another meow on your side. Thinking that the cat meant it as “why did you touch my nose?”

“Was it uncomfortable for you? I’m sorry, let me compensate with some treats.” You turned back to the cat, placing your hand on the knob of the door then turning it.

“You know, this conversation is going nowhere. We’re on totally different pages.” Soonie meowed again, but this time, swiftly going down from the crates to follow your steps, in pursue of the treats you promised. “But I could use some of those treats you just said.” Another meow.

“Mhm! I’m sure you’ll enjoy the treats!” You cheered, almost on the same page as Soonie with the talk of cat treats.

The cat made no further reply, only rubbing its body on your leg in anticipation. Even until you got out of the back room, the cat trailed behind you silently in wait.

As you reached the store front, you were greeted however with the sight of a slightly familiar woman. Probably around your age, if not a bit older. It wouldn’t bother you on any day as it could have just been a customer, but you picked the conversation happening with her and Minho.

“I don’t have a written resume right now; I can come back tomorrow if you want.”

“Oh, that wouldn’t matter actually, but if you feel the need to have a resume, then we can arrange to have your interview tomorrow.”

“That’s perfect! When should I come by for the interview?”

“After lunch is perfect.”

“Okay, I’ll be here after lunch tomorrow. Thank you so much for letting me know about it.” The girl bowed in thanks, giving Minho a big, bright smile.

Minho in turn, bowed in return and only watched the figure leave. Noticing your presence as you approached the center of the room, where the cats have gathered around you; stepping their tiny paws on your legs as you crouched to give them treats.

“Are you feeling any better?” Minho asks. However, he got no response from you. Only the sight of your back turned before him sufficed the answer he wished.

“Y/n?” He called for your attention.

This time you replied, but the tone in your voice hinted irritation than what Minho always expected from you—light and happy. “I’m fine.” You dismissed.

Clearly you weren’t. Minho wanted to speak up but Doongie meowed, “someone’s in trouble.” It ticked Minho off, wanting to scold the second eldest of the cats. Soonie did so anyways in his stead, hissing at the younger.

You translated the situation as the cats fighting for the treats you’re giving, making the frown in your face deeper. “Hey, don’t fight.” The statement did not stop the two, only furthering the argument between the two cats, Dori trying to calm the two down, filling the quiet shop in meows and hisses.

The noise made you upset than ever. Doing so, you stood up from your crouched seat, going to the counter to pick up any of your belongings that you left, and putting them all in your satchel. “I’m leaving early. I have to prepare for work.”

Minho can’t help but watch your form walk away. He couldn’t even ask you what the problem was. And it wasn’t even time for your shift at the local pub. It was still around 4 in the afternoon, and you usually left at 5, leaving an hour to prepare for your shift. Clearly, something was happening that you weren’t telling Minho.

The man can only sigh. He’d have to talk to you tomorrow morning instead. Thinking of ways to talk to you, he then turned to the three cats who were still arguing. “You lot can’t keep your mouths shut for a damn second.” Oh, Minho was pissed. And it immediately sent chills down the cats’ furry bodies. The glare was enough to kill, but it was a good thing his eyes held no power to do so.

“It was Doongie. He started it.” Soonie couldn’t help but point fingers at the second youngest, clearly afraid of facing the wrath of their father.

“What? I literally didn’t do anything, you suddenly hissed at me,” Doongie snarled back, to which the older started hissing again. “See! You’re doing it again!”

“Please stop fighting,” Dori timidly mewled, scared of putting more fuel in the fire. The youngest already feeling the seething aura coming from Minho.

“Okay! That’s it! You’re all on time out. No treats for a week, I’m sealing all of it, and no one is going to touch it.” Minho angrily took out all the stored treats in one of the cabinets under the counter, along with the small spell book he keeps handy inside his pocket—containing emergency spells and the like.

The three cats stood up on their little feet, already circling Minho to stop him from taking the treats up to his room and sealing it in one of his drawers.

“Dad! No, we’re sorry! We won’t do it again!” The three meowed in unison, following Minho’s steps, until they reached the top, where a loft has been made from the large space for the cats to settle in. Two doors, one for the bathroom, and one for Minho’s room. And before the three feline could make their entry inside Minho’s room, the door had already been gently shut in their faces.

The three stared silently at the bronze door knob, staring hardly as if it would open with their command.

“This is all your fault Doongie.” Soonie scoffed, making the second youngest rapidly turn it’s head.

“What do you mean mine?! If you hadn’t hissed at me for no reason, then I wouldn’t have fought back, idiot!” The cat’s loud meows echoed around the second floor of the shop.

“I was trying to make you read the room! Your statement was uncalled for!” Soonie meowed back.

At this point, Dori wanted to quiet down the two oldest cat, but he was genuinely growing tired of their argument, that he walked away from them, and jumping to the wooden cat tower of their loft.

Minho on the other hand, successfully sealed the treats, but leaving one aside to give for them. The treat wrapped in a white cloth, containing two of your home made cat cookies. Deeming that the three at least deserved the treat, but they will have to learn to share it for a week.

After doing so, he sat shortly on his bed, thinking of what happened earlier. Of what could have bothered you, that you’ll leave earlier than your usual time, without talking it out with him. And seeing and hearing you sound upset, made his heart break a little. He was confused on what could have possibly gone wrong, but he decided to do his best in making it up for you. Even if he didn’t exactly know if he was the reason or not.

You weren’t doing so well either; the walk to your home was filled with too much scenarios from earlier. Both the one that made your heart clench in something that confused you, and the other giving you that unpleasant feeling.

Upon finding out that Minho was to take in, sooner and probably much later, a reliable helper around the shop—and a beautiful one at that—something inside you felt unpleasant. Your insides churned in a feeling you felt whenever someone disagrees with you to the point they disrespect you. Much closely to unlike but not hate. You couldn’t put a name on this feeling but you wanted it to go away.

Switching your path, you make your way to the daycare where Minju was working, needing the advice and comfort of a female friend. You knew you can’t trust Jungwoo, because not only would he have something up his sleeve, but because the female, and most probably the male population of the area would flock the man, rendering useless for private consultations.

When you peeked into the glass windows of the place, you see only a few children were left. All the others picked up by their parents, or guardians. More notably, the ones left are the trouble makers you’ve come to know—little Jeongin, Jisung, Yongbok, Seungmin, and Hyunjin.

Rapping your knuckles on the door, you were then greeted by Dahyun—one of Minju’s co-workers. “Oh, Y/n. Did you come to talk with Minju?” The girl brightly smiled at you.

Looking at her, the gleeful smile she displayed, rubbed off on you, making you smile in return and forgetting your worries for quite a short period of time. “Yeah! I hope I’m not intruding on work hours?”

“Oh no, work ended hours ago. We’re just waiting for the kids left in here to be picked up, then we’ll be on our way.” Dahyun smiled again, opening the door wider to let you in.

“Teacher! Is that my mommy!” One of the kids, you assumed it’s Jisung from his voice.

“No sweetie, it’s Y/n,” Dahyun corrected, picking up the wood carved nutcracker that the boy dropped as he ran excitedly to the door.

Looking up at you, both in happiness and sadness, little Jisung spoke, “oh… I thought it was mommy.” He can’t help the little frown that painted his face.

You crouched down and pat Jisung’s head comfortingly, “don’t worry! Your mom will pick you up soon!”

Yongbok, Jisung’s twin brother, approached him and held his hand, “mommy won’t forget! Maybe she just stumbled on a cat that needed to be rescued!” The freckled boy made up a scenario of why their mother could be late. And at this, Jisung quickly smiled, nodding in agreement at how their mother is probably a hero in disguise.

Dahyun chuckled, holding Jisung’s hand and leading the twins back inside the room. “Come on. Minju is just preparing snacks for the kids. Apparently they don’t want to go for an afternoon nap.” You chuckled at the statement, somehow relating to the kids for still having some energy left in them.

When you finally arrived, you were greeted with the kids playing around, while Seungmin sat still in one corner, reading a book. Jisung and Yongbok joining Jeongin and Hyunjin in playing a game. However, the little quiet nook Seungmin occupied, was invaded by the other four. Soon enough, the boy reading his story book joined the fray, playing around until Minju finally arrived with a tray of snacks and drinks.

The kids, having been distracted by food, you were finally able to talk to Minju.

“Why did you come by? Isn’t it too early for you to leave the shop?” Minju asked, bunching her skirt before sitting on the floor beside you and Dahyun, conversing but still keeping eye on the kids.

You pressed your legs to your chest, your own skirt pooling to your sides. “I just needed to talk to someone.”

Dahyun being naturally concerned, perked up at the change in your tone. “Why? Has something bad happened? We can help you.” She asked.

You looked down sadly, almost feeling bad for feeling the way you feel, “it’s just, I feel bad for walking out on Minho… I didn’t even explain anything to him, and then I also walked out on the kids.” And by kids, you meant his cats—the term being natural to you and Minho.

Minju tilted her head, confused on what’s happened, “walked out? Did you get into an argument with him?”

You shook your head, “not really… I just felt upset he was really pushing through with looking for a new hire.” Now that you said the problem out loud, you felt it too ridiculous to be even worrying about. But there’s just this feeling of unsettlement that you can’t shake off.

“I’m sure it’s just seasonal, sweetie. You know how it is in spring,” Minju tried her best comforting you, rubbing your back comfortingly.

Dahyun agreed, “yeah. Besides, he probably doesn’t mind you still helping around. You know how things work there with how long you’ve been helping him.”

You stared of blankly, absorbing their words like a sponge. However, there was still something bothering you. It was nitpicking at the very corners of your heart.

“But… I don’t know… the person applying looked beautiful, and it kind of sets something inside me, I don’t know how to explain it,” you sighed. The thought of this beautiful lady working side by side with Minho was making you sad, and you were confused on how you felt. “She also seemed to be kind and gentle.”

Minju and Dahyun turned to give each other a look, already giving name to the feeling you were too oblivious about. “Oh, you sweet, innocent, naïve child.” Dahyun couldn’t help but laugh.

Minju chuckled as well, hiding her giggles behind to which piqued and confused you. “Huh? Why are you both laughing?”

Dahyun waved it off, now breaking into fits of laughter. The kids who were previously distracted by their afternoon snacks, were now huddling around you three. “Teacher is telling a joke! Teacher, tell us the joke!” Yongbok squealed excitedly, tugging on the hem of Minju and Dahyun’s skirt.

Jisung jumped up and down, while Hyunjin was holding on to Jeongin and Seungmin’s hands, who were equally piqued and excited.

Dahyun scowled at the kids, “oh you nosy children, go eat your snacks.” At this, the children pouted and groaned sadly.

“Teacher, unfair!” Jeongin shouted, following another line, “Jeongin always tell jokes to teacher!”

Minju couldn’t help but spill as you still sat in confusion. “Our Ms., Y/n is obliviously jealous.”

After dropping the bomb, you were baffled. The kids looked confused at a word they never encountered before, except for both Seungmin and Hyunjin. The latter quickly shooting his hand up, squealing, “oh! It happens when you feel that someone you love is being taken away from you by someone else!”

Seungmin’s face soured at the mention of the word ‘love.’ “Or, you feel it when someone else has something you want.” The boy related it to something more relatable, to which the other kids now nodded their heads.

Hyunjin tugged at Seungmin, disagreeing to what the boy said; always a lover of romance as he finds a way to justify that jealousy is more akin to be felt with love. “But you feel it with someone you love too! I get jealous when other kids play with you and not with me, because I love you!” The slightly older boy pouted.

The three of you were shocked at the sudden revelation, especially the young alchemist, whose cheeks were now tinted baby pink. “Y-you can come visit my house to play anytime, we’re neighbors after all!” Seungmin turned away from Hyunjin. The latter’s eyes lighted with delight.

The kids, as well as Minju and Dahyun was now teasing the two who was shrouded with what seemed to be puppy love. As for you, you were processing what Minju labeled your feelings as ‘jealousy.’

You thought back to earlier, feeling upset at the scenarios that plagued your mind when you thought back to the lady from before. Hardly even starting work and yet the scenarios made you upset to such an extent where you’re overthinking the lady stealing Minho from you.

“O-of course I’m jealous!” You blurted out, gaining everyone’s attention. Dahyun smirked at the admission, teasing about to roll off her tongue until you added, “he’s my best friend! Of course, I’ll be upset if someone else takes him away from me!”

Dahyun’s eye twitched in irk at your obliviousness. Rubbing her face, she groaned before asking you, “if Minju was ‘taken away’ from you, or someone else got her attention, and the someone was very pretty, would you be upset?”

“I wouldn’t, because they might be talking about something important.” Dahyun nodded at your answer.

“If Jungwoo was talking to you, then someone else pretty would steal his attention, would you be upset?”

“It’s kind of not out of the ordinary, so I would not mind anymore.” You answered once more.

The last question, however, gave back the despair you felt from before. “If Minho was talking to someone else who looks pretty and kind, how would that make you feel?”

You mulled it over, frowning as you gave your answer. “I’d be sad.” You were used to Minho giving you all his undivided attention, despite looking the total opposite, that thinking of him doing so with someone else tugged at the pit of your stomach.

“Ms. Y/n you’re like my mama when papa is ignoring her.” Hyunjin spoke, thinking back to his mother who always pouted when her husband is piled with mails to write back to.

You didn’t think you would have such reactions to this thing. You now only think that this seems too petty to even give it that much attention, but the feeling at the pit of your stomach really wasn’t going away.

“Then what do you suggest I do?” You thought out loud for everyone to hear. Feeling helpless for even having these feelings in the first place. “I even felt my heart squeezing earlier when I glanced at Minho... It was strange.”

Minju was not aware whether you wanted that thought to be heard, but it only confirmed their suspicion of you eventually falling for your best friend.

“Ms. Y/n you’re in love!” Jisung shouted in glee, excited about the news. You only then realized your thoughts were out in the open for everyone in the small room to hear.

“No, I’m not! I think I’m sick,” you blindly reasoned, thinking it could probably be a sickness yet to be discovered. A sickness where you feel your heart almost being squeezed out when looking at someone.

“But, Ms. Y/n, my mama says she feels that way with papa!” Hyunjin reasons out, always on the move for asking about romance to his mom, who was also quite the romantic.

“Ms. Y/n should confess to Sir Minho, right?” Minju wiggled her brows suggestively, while Dahyun gave you a very sly wink.

At this, the kids squealed in excitement, even Seungmin who was not a very romantic child. “Like how Jinnie confessed to Minnie!” Yongbok stared, his eyes twinkling like how his freckles twinkled on his cheeks. The mention once more making Seungmin flush in an adorable baby pink.

“Sir Minho is cool! He takes care of flowers, and has cats!” Jisung raised his hands excitedly, as if testifying his reasons on why you should confess to your friend.

Jeongin raised his hand as well, catching the attention of the other kids as they paid attention to the youngest speaking his thoughts. “Sir Minho is mind reader,” Jeongin starts, his sentence form still lacking as he was still young. “Sir Minho read mama’s thoughts.”

You thought back to Jeongin’s mom who was a regular at Minho’s shop. It was because the woman sticks to her favorite flower arrangement, that Minho starts working on the bouquet before the woman could even speak. Maybe that’s why Jeongin thought he was a mind reader; which you found undeniably adorable.

Upon finishing his sentence, the other boys stared in awe. Talking amongst themselves about how they also want to be a mind reader like Minho. The two daycare teachers only laughed fondly at the kids, while you stared adoringly at how their innocent and imaginative minds are very endearing.

Alas, you could only stay for such a time, leaving just before the last of the kids were picked up by their parents or guardian. Bidding the two women as well, a good bye—with them also promising to drop by the pub for a few non-alcoholic drinks—before heading back home to change out of your day outfit.

Your night—or work attire—was not anything special. Only the dress being a much lighter material to grant you ease when maneuvering around tables and tables when serving. Your shoes as well, changing to a much light and loose leather.

When you arrived, there were already some of the few patrons, with a few of your co-workers setting up the small stage. Seungkwan, one of the famous bards who performs, was already downing a small glass of ale.

“Nervous?” You asked, grabbing on to an apron under one of the counter cabinets, and wrapping it around your body.

The man gave you one of his very popular sassy looks, scoffing, “I could never. You know I’m only drinking a glass so I don’t have to take nonsense from some of the geezers here.”

If anything, Seungkwan was sassy, but respectful, only drinking, when necessary, to double the sass especially in times he needs to—like when someone starts to get too disrespectful to him during or off performance. Nonetheless, he was still a very sweet gentleman, who knows how to make the mood lighter–making him perfect for the job.

You just chuckled, giving him an understanding pat, and wishing him luck with the performance—not like you think he needed, considering the amount of talent the man holds.

The night grew busier and busier, with the thoughts from earlier finally fading. Dahyun and Minju visited you, ordering their usual rose tea with some light snacks. The two were not one with adoring the busy pub scene either, but the place was one of the best servers of alcoholic drinks as well as having the best singer in town–that there was a lot to be competing in.

“The drink was great as always Nayeon!” Dahyun thanked the older woman behind the wooden counter. Minju agreed, but frowned quickly as her dress’ sleeve got caught on one of the wooden splinters.

“Changbin should really get the counters fixed,” she muttered, loud enough for the two other girls to hear her. Unfortunately, the boy mentioned was blessed with sharp hearing, and in a matter of seconds, the man was now next to them.

“Believe me, that’s the third repair this month, but someone keeps picking on it. Chan’s getting frustrated.” Changbin crossed his arms, sighing in exasperation and empathy for his carpenter and artisan friend. The four then sighed in unison, thinking of the hardworking man and already imagining him frowning at how someone could ruin his handiworks.

After serving a few drinks to some patrons, you approached the four. Minju engaged in a short conversation before declaring that she would have to head home and sleep for another early hour shift for the next day. You bid them soon, voicing your concern for them to be careful on their way.

It was then that you, Changbin, and Nayeon were left, conversing for a short period of time before going back to work. Nayeon making the drinks, along with another colleague who had just arrived for his shift – Hansol; Changbin with managing and overseeing everyone, as well as greeting some of the regulars in his pub and even welcoming new faces, even helping with making drinks when needed; while you went around taking orders from the customers along with your co-workers, Chaeyoung, Moonbin, and Minghao.

The bustle of the tavern would have you grow exhausted and render you tired and knocked out after work, usually; however, today you were up and going on your toes. Your mind automatically leans into burning energy as a coping mechanism from what had occurred earlier that day. You were so on a roll that you barely noticed it was time for closing; only coming to mind when Chaeyoung tapped you on your shoulders and offering to walk home together.

“You’ve been spacing out lately, I figured I walk home with you so I can assure you get home safely.” Chaeyoung spoke, giving you a gentle smile as she looked down to fix and dust of her skirt.

You were touched with the kind thought of the girl, and who were you really to deny such an angelic person? You agreed with her, but not telling the reason that you agree because you also want to protect her in case some hooligans were to jump out of nowhere and even attempt to do things to you and Chaeyoung.

You were sent to be more at ease when Moonbin as well as Hansol offered to walk with you two. You knew you were capable of self defense, but with two more people, and a masculine form of intimidation, you were guaranteed safety. So, the walk home was very comfortable, alongside some quirky topics to converse in, it gave you peace at most.

💐

Peace was probably good in its own, but it was kind of bad in some way. Because when your mind feels at ease, you oversleep. Not that Minho minds it, he thinks you deserve all the rest you need after a long night at work. However, the usual time you arrive in, usually a little past noon, he’d expected you’d be there. But you weren’t.

Afternoon rush were very common in his store, and without you, Minho was somehow a fumbling mess here and there. It was bad enough that Sana—the girl who he was supposed to interview—was sat uneasily in a seat at the corner of the shop. The girl offering to help him with managing some of the customers, but Minho politely declined, and now she was forced to just watch as the man hurries from one place to the other.

A couple more hours after the rush hour and you finally arrived, perkier than before. Minho sighed in relief, after having to worry that something else could have happened to you. He greeted you but he got no reply as he watched you approach the cats, a small bundle of treats out of the pockets of your skirt.

“Oh, is that Ms. Y/n?” Sana asked, after having done with Minho’s briefing and approval that today she’d start work, but under your guidance.

“Yes.” He answered shortly, still gazing at you. Sana watched with hawk like curiosity at you two. “Uh…Just approach her and ask; she doesn’t seem too keen on talking to me.” And it piqued the girl, as Minho was left with the conundrum of what could he have possibly done for you to suddenly ignore him, and not his cats.

Sana nodded her head, approaching you cautiously so as not to trigger any negative feelings with you. “Hi,” she spoke timidly but brightly at the same time.

You looked up from the cats who were enjoying their treats—who you didn’t know were currently grounded and banned from eating treats for the week. You gave a curious look at the girl, despite the churning feeling of hurt inside you, you urged her to ask a question, which was obvious from the way she fiddled at the texture of her skirt.

“Minho said I’d be under your wing for the week. I’ll be learning the ropes around the shop with your guidance, as he said you were more experienced.” She said, fumbling again as she hurried to add her self introduction, “my mistake for not introducing. My name is Minatozaki Sana. I live just down the block from the marketplace. And I’ve always been interested in flowers.” Sana didn’t know just how to introduce herself to you, as you seemed to hold that unexplainable air of intimidation while also feeling approachable.

Pushing hard on the gnawing pain in your chest and stomach, you gave her your most genuine smile. You’d do this for Minho, even if there was an unexplainable feeling inside you. You didn’t want to name it jealously. But Sana seemed harmless and quite perfect with Minho, and you can’t help but sigh in defeat inside.

And it went on for a week. Maybe two or three. But Minho was sure you’ve been avoiding him, definitely. Because he’s been watching you for days with those forlorn eyes.

You barely arrived in time for rush hours, the way you always do. And when you had free time, you either spent it with the cats, or you’d go next door to Jungwoo. And it sends him reeling with feelings of hurt and jealousy, more than curiosity.

He asks himself why you suddenly avoided him? Was it something he did? Did he offend you in some way? He’d have deep talks with Soonie sometimes, but the cat just tells him to talk to you about it. But how was he supposed to talk to you, if you keep walking away from him when he was at arm’s length to you?

You were no better yourself. You watched the times when Sana and Minho would talk. They looked so comfortable with each other now. And when Sana laughs at Minho saying something, you just can’t look. Minho looks so soft with his gentle smile, and it makes your heart wrench. You almost want to hurl out your insides not out of disgust, but out of hurt. Hoping that vomiting it out could stop you from having these feelings.

You’ve been frequenting your visit with Jungwoo, just for the sole purpose of distraction. Because it was surely amusing to watch him decline date invites from men and women alike, who holds up the line in his little café. But you’re suddenly into people watching. You watched everyone’s gesture, developing the habit after having spaced out a lot of times. And Jungwoo’s café was the perfect place for it.

You also visited the daycare a lot. Finding comfort in the two girls, while also playing with some of the kids there. And it also piqued at you at Hyunjin and Seungmin’s predicament. After Hyunjin’s puppy love confession, the two have been inseparable. Always doing things together, confiding in the other, when one is lonely. And you felt jealousy for the kids, because you wanted to do the same with Minho.

….

…

You wanted what with Minho?!

You dropped the clay pot you were holding, breaking it to pieces, as both Sana and Minho rushed to your side.

“Y/n, are you okay? Are you hurt?” Minho fumbled, grasping your hand and stepping you away from the broken pieces of clay on the floor. Searching and scanning your hands for any scratch or open wound.

“I’ll go get the broom, you two don’t make a move or touch anything,” Sana hurries to the back room to pick up the long broom and pan.

You were too focused on your hands that were enveloped by Minho’s slightly larger ones.

You wanted to hold hands with Minho. You wanted to hold his hands, the way Hyunjin and Seungmin does. Not platonically, but romantically. You wanted to be there for him when he’s feeling alone, so you can give him your undivided love and affection.

That’s when it hit you that you really were feeling something more for your childhood friend.

“Y/n?” He looks into your eyes with unbridled concern and…love? “You can sit this one out and rest if you're not feeling well. I can even talk to Changbin so you don’t have to go to work.” His thumbs were rubbing the back of your hands in comfort, and it triggered the butterflies inside you stomach, especially now that you’ve something to name that feeling you had been feeling the past few weeks.

Love and hurt. Longing and jealousy.

Sana walks back into the room and starts sweeping hurriedly, all the while speaking out her concern for you. She was about to walk back to the back room of the shop to look for any medicinal herbs for if you did have any injuries.

But you ran away.

You fled from the scene, right after yanking your hands from the comfort of Minho’s calloused ones. Hearing both the concerned and shocked calls from Minho and Sana.

More than heart racing and fluster, you were feeling shame, regret and sadness at the late realization. The hurt from weeks of having it unnamed had increased ten fold now that you have a name for your emotion.

So you ran and ran, until you found yourself once more inside the daycare. It was still early, the kids were yet to be dismissed, so you halt in your running to catch your breath. Your feet aching from the heels you wore. Looking for a bench to sit on along with the other parents and guardians who were waiting. Minju got out on one of the rooms, and was surprised to see you come earlier.

“You’re here early. Anything happened?” She asked, concern written in her face as she scanned your out of breath form.

“We’ll talk later, you just go and finish what you need to do,” you assured her, not wanting to get her in trouble for talking during work hours.

Half an hour passed and the kids were finally dismissed. The five mischievous boys were still around, along with the three other little girls who were busy in their own world.

Minju found it appropriate that you now enter the room, sitting you down on the floor next to one of the children’s small table. “I’ll prepare some tea,” she says, scurrying to the daycare’s small kitchen in the back.

You were left with Dahyun who was quick to sit next to you on the floor. Your skirts littered the floor in bunches. “You need some water, you look like you ran around the country,” Dahyun said, handing you a glass of water.

You were quick to down the glass, and settle it gently on the small table. “I did. I did run to here.” You heaved in and out in slow breaths.

Dahyun nodded her head, sensing something good or interesting has happened. She leaned closer, her hands resting her chin as her elbows were propped on the table.

You know the look she’s giving so you spoke, “not until Minju is seated.” You scoffed, turning your head away as you weren’t really in to explaining everything that happened in repeated times.

Once the girl did arrive, you were quick to explain why you ran, coming to a conclusion, “I also just now realized my feelings for Minho…” You spoke timidly, unbeknownst to you the eavesdropping ears of the rascals.

“I knew it! Ms. Y/n does like Sir Minho!” Jisung announces, more so quick to celebrating than the two older girls.

“Ms. Y/n don’t worry, I’m sure Sir Minho likes you as well,” Chaeryeong spoke timidly, but her eyes sparkled.

“You rascals, you should never listen to adults talking,” Dahyun scolded light heartedly. The kids running away as she chased them around the room.

You thanked her for having quick senses on your feelings of vulnerability. You knew the kids meant well, but you were really in need of some safe space at the moment. Minju took your hand in hers, sandwiching it in comfortable warmth.

You’ve always been jealous of Minju having soft and smooth hands, as yours have always been rough at such a young age. Despite being soft, the surface of your hands were always rough, and littered with creases and lines. It was one of your insecurities, which was why you were quick to pull your hands away from Minho earlier.

“I’m proud of you coming to terms with your feelings, sweetie. But, I need you to be more confident in yourself. I can sense you feeling hesitant and insecure.” Minju softly voiced, giving you hand gentle massages to ease you from your worries. “Will you tell me what you feel at the moment?”

You sighed deeply, before speaking out your thoughts. “I feel very much insecure, you’re right.”

Minju nodded, “will you tell me what you’re most insecure about? I won’t pressure you if you feel uncomfortable.” She speaks, all the while giving your hand gentle presses.

“I just suddenly feel defeated… I feel like I’m not worthy of having Minho. I’m not perfect like Sana. And they especially look good together. Minho looks really comfortable with her, and I felt like I’m disrupting them, when I finally came to terms with how I feel.”

Minju frowned, upset to hear you bringing yourself down. But she urged you to continue, wanting you to let out what you feel so you’d be carrying a lighter load in the future. And once you were done, she was quick to envelope you in her arms.

With you two having sat on the floor, it was easier to engulf you in warmth. You feeling small, yet safe around the warmth of your dear friend. Silently sobbing out your insecurities as she whispered the words you needed to hear in that moment.

Dahyun did her best to distract the kids and give you two the time you need, but she can only do as much, as the kids now turn their attention to you two.

Yongbok gasps, sparkles lighting his eyes as his freckles as the sight of you two, “it’s a cuddle pile!” The little boy giggles excitedly, wanting to be involved in the cuddles.

His twin, Jisung, joins. Running with arms wide open as the two tried their best to hug you and Minju with their little arms.

Jeongin, Chaeryeong, Yeji and Lia as well, running up to you and jumping to hug. Hyunjin and Seungmin going last. Seungmin a bit reluctant, but going along as Hyunjin tugged him along.

“You kids,” Dahyun sighed exasperated, however joining the pile as well, the last to wrap her arms around all of you, even if you all didn’t fit.

Minho wasn’t doing well. Even more heart broken with how you ran away from him; stressed because he never knew what the reason was for you to avoid him. Most of all, missing your cheery aura, that was all for him. He had a possessive side, that was much, but it wasn’t bad. He just was naturally drawn to you like a magnet.

“You should talk to Y/n,” Sana speaks up, noticing the broken look of Minho. “There seemed to be a misunderstanding.”

Minho looked back to her, confused.

“She likes you Minho, that much is obvious,” Sana chuckles. “But she seemed to look at us as something more. You know I don’t swing that way.”

Minho felt bare and exposed. Was he wearing his heart on his sleeves to be read that easily? Was it really obvious that he was giving you the heart eyes? The longing, forlorn looks? The subtle chuckles when he sees you communicating with the cats, but he very well knows that you aren’t on the same page as the cats—as he can communicate with them?

“Let’s close up the shop. You need time to gather your thoughts.” Sana gives him a reassuring smile and pat, leaving for the shop’s front door, and flipping the sign. Carrying the displays inside the shop, and doing a bit of sweeping.

Once Minho snaps out of his thoughts, he helped with closing the shop. A bit fidgety, he was. Concerned, of course, but he was formulating the things he wanted to say. And if Sana is right that you feel the same as him, then he needs to let it all bare. He has to be honest to you and clear up the misunderstanding.

After he closed the shop, and bidding Sana a farewell, he wrote a letter to Changbin, asking for a two day leave in your stead, explaining how you seemed to be out of it and not in the right mindset lately. But also leaving out the fact that he needs to talk to you about something important.

Minho calls for Soonie, asking the older cat to send the letter to Changbin. While some people had their own messenger birds, Minho mostly did his messaging through his cats. Not finding it fit to have a bird as a messenger when he had three cats.

After the older cat left, Minho quickly wrote another letter. This one was for you. Asking for some of your time and talk about what you were feeling. He tried to be very obvious in the letter that he missed you, and he hoped you were feeling up for it. He did say he would respect your decision if you wouldn’t want to talk at the moment.

And after having written the letter, he called for Dori, asking the young cat to deliver the letter. He then watched as the grey cat walked away happily and out of the shop through their little cat door.

“That’s unfair. Why don’t I get to deliver letters?” Doongie meowed, upset.

Minho scoffed at the second oldest. “You’re mischievous. Who knows what you could’ve done to the letter?”

Doongie meowed louder, “I’m literally a cat!”

Minho chuckled, tapping on to his thighs. “I’m sorry. I’ll let you send letters in the future.” He grinned, naturally weak for his cats.

And although Doongie was such a mischievous little one of his, he was grateful for the cuddles that the cat gave him. Automatically giving him comfort.

He decided that he needs the comfort of a male friend, so he made sure to take note in confiding to Jungwoo before he gets to talk to you.

A little while into the afternoon while walking on your way home, a white dove lands softly on your head; blocking your view with an envelope. You noticed the dove to be Changbin’s. You thought back to when Changbin had sent you a mail through his messenger bird, actually expecting a bird close to the more predator type, seeing as the man himself looked intimidating. But you may have judged him by his cover then, because Changbin was a pure and honest man himself.

Picking at the letter gently, you thanked the beautifully, untainted bird. The dove nuzzling the top of your head in affection before flying off.

Upon opening the letter, you see the words written in bold that you’re given two days off from work, without proper explanation. And as much as you want to storm to the pub, or even the man’s home itself, you knew just how stubborn Changbin is once he makes a decision.

Sighing, you snugged the letter safely inside your pocket.

Your mood have slightly improved with Minju and Dahyun’s comfort, as well as having the kids give you a cuddle pile. And you didn’t think you’d be taking advice from a child, but here you were, engraving young Hyunjin’s advice into your brain.

Honesty is the best way to go especially when communicating. Just let it all out Ms. Y/n. If Sir Minho loves you as well, then he will love your everything even if you hate them.

You sighed, thinking how running away from this would be useless. And if Minho were to not reciprocate your feelings, you deemed it better, as long as you know he’s happy. It would be worth the try. You just hoped he keeps being friends with you.

Your thoughts of planning to talk to him tomorrow, as you do have two days off, were interrupted as you felt something brushing on your legs. You look down to see Dori, who had a letter in its mouth. You knew then that it was a message from Minho.

Scared that it would be a message of him scolding you from earlier, you didn’t pick it up. You were afraid you’d let out some tears. Instead, you picked up the cat, and took long strides to your house, finding it more fit that you read the letter in a more private setting.

After setting Dori down inside your home, you gave the young cat some treats, and a small bowl of water. Taking the letter gently out of its mouth and opening it nervously.

However, upon opening, you were not greeted with the ominous aura or wording. Instead, you find that it’s quite hinting differently. At the very bottom, he was asking you to meet him at midnight at Mooncross Lake. The lake where you two would usually play to by yourselves when you were kids.

There seemed to be more to the letter as you read the first alphabets of each word at the left side of the paper. Each row’s first letters creating the phrase “I miss you.”

It raised your hopes. Heightened the feeling inside your stomach. Leaving your heart racing.

Minho knew you all too well. He knows how you loved solving puzzles, deciphering riddles, theorizing, and the like. And for him to incorporate as such in the letter, it left your mind at ease, all the while feeling hopeful.

Hopeful that he’d feel the same.

And so when night came, you were antsy. Dori left after demanding some cuddles from you, and you were left to feel anxious until you felt that it was finally time to meet up with Minho.

The track to the lake was safe, as the path were illuminated by magic lamps. If someone were to jump out of nowhere, and cause trouble, you were prepared; having a small emergency dagger around your neck.

The necklace having its pendant designed in the shape of a dagger. Only does it become the right hand held size when manifested with mana. It was a present that Jungwoo gave to you and Minju to help you to protect yourself especially at night.

Once you approach, the lake, you were greeted with the man’s silhouette, illuminated by the moonlight, both from the moon itself, as well as from the reflection of the lakes surface. The dark tones creating a mirror, an illusion of no land and only space.

You approached the form. An all to familiar form. You know it’s Minho, from all the times you’ve known him and looked at him, you have his everything memorized. Even the gestures and mannerisms he does.

“Minho?” You called out. Your voice acting as knife that cut through the night’s serene silence.

And you were right, as the silhouette now turned to you. Minho approached you, his leather shoes creating a rhythm with the grass and some fallen leaves. Accompanied were the sounds of metal clanking from the lamp he carried, along with the rustle of his rucksack making contact with his shirt. Only now did he light the lamp using the matchbox he had with him.

Setting down the lamp, he pulled out a small blanket from his rucksack. It looked to be the only thing in his pack. He sat down, both your distance from the lake, a good 10 feet away. Once he was comfortably seated, he held out his hand, asking for yours.

You hesitantly gave yours, but freed from his grasp just as fast after sitting. Minho looked away sadly, which you missed as you turned your head away. Both of you still wrapped around in misunderstanding but Minho wants to clear it up as fast, afraid to prolong the heartache he’s been feeling.

The serene silence turns tense. The crickets being the only one to speak its thoughts in the cold spring air.

“I…” Minho starts, after finally gathering his courage.

You turn to look at him, and with the lamp shining from below you two, you were able to make out the distant and hurt look that painted his face. It made your heart clench.

Why was he unhappy? Was the “I miss you” just you reading into too much things, and he’s actually just finding it hard to look for the words to say that he’s not interested in you?

Oh how you wished to go back through time to save yourself from the embarrassment waiting to happen.

“I’m sorry…” He says quietly. And as if the air wasn’t tainted with enough tension and awkwardness, the crickets have stopped their chorus, making the air more unbearable.

You couldn’t handle the tears, as they make their way out your orbs and dance freely to kiss the air of cool spring. You sobbed silently, you breathing held.

But how can you hold your breath for long? Of course you couldn’t. So the silence was once more disrupted as you heaved in deeply, the snot that has formed clogged your breathing, making it more audible that you were indeed crying.

“I know, let’s just stop this. Th-there’s clearly no way you would like me. Why did I even get my h-hopes up.” You sobbed in between your breaths.

Minho was worried with how you suddenly cried. Taking you in his arms, he started rubbing his hands up and down your back. He didn’t mind the wet patch that has formed as he leaned your forehead to rest on his shoulders.

“How can you think this way, Y/n? Of course I like you…” His other hand made it’s way to your head. Your hair loosely hanging, making it easier to thread his fingers through, massaging your scalp comfortingly.

“You’re obligated to like me…because I’m your, f-friend…” You never thought that the word friend could wound your heart so deeply.

Minho felt his heart ache. Did you really see his affection as an obligation?

“See it as you will, but I like you genuinely. I like you to the point it hurts my heart. You don’t even know how much you make me feel at ease when I’m with you…” Minho hugged you closer to him, afraid of losing you if he didn’t hold on tighter.

“I like you even more than how normal friends see each other. I see myself with you. In my past, my present, and future. I’m sorry I haven’t been verbal with my affection for you, but I don’t think words can explain how I feel, Y/n.”

Your sobbing dies down slowly, as you listened to him further explain. And the more he explained, the more your heart was left beating.

“I’m sorry for the unnecessary misunderstanding I’ve created, Y/n. I never wanted to get rid of you. I never even had the slightest thought about it…” Minho explains, after having talked with Jungwoo. Your friend reading your feelings as something akin to fear. It was close, because you did have a fear of losing Minho.

“But, you like Sana. I know, because you look at her with something… it’s something close to love…And when she looks at you, you suddenly look away…” You clenched on Minho’s shirt. Hurt flashing across you once more as you thought to that scene of Minho looking fondly at Sana.

Minho is baffled. He doesn’t even remember looking at the girl in that way. Could it have been a coincidence? Because he remembers looking at you with heart eyes—admittedly—and it just so happens that Sana is right behind you, catching him on the act, that probably triggers his flustered reaction.

Suddenly he can’t help but let out a fond chuckle. And it hurt you more, thinking that he’s ridiculing you, causing you to slightly push him away.

The gesture clutches at Minho’s heart, but he has to clear up the misunderstanding before even thinking about giving up.

“You never let me explain properly…” Minho sighs, taking one of your hand still in his.

You looked away in shame. Ever since talking to him finally, you never made the first step, even having the guts to push him away and put words in his mouth.

As if sensing your negative thoughts, Minho’s other hand cups your jaw, turning you to look at him straight in the eyes, as he starts explaining properly. “Me turning away, was due to Sana catching me in the act of looking at you, fondly.”

“I don’t think I can ever look at someone the same way I look at you. I want you to trust me. To believe me; that my heart is only for you.” He placed a kiss on your forehead, before continuing, “besides, Sana is married, and I believe she’s not interested in men.”

At the news, your eyes grew like saucers. You never noticed this, not even the ring that glistens on Sana’s finger whenever the sun’s ray hit her hands. How could you have missed that?

“Why do you think I let Sana be under your wing? Other than you being more than capable enough to teach a newcomer, it’s also because she said that she’d be more comfortable if she worked with the same gender.” Minho spoke, explaining how Sana had spoke vaguely about having bad experiences with men.

“She seemed comfortable with you though?” You asked, still quite confused.

“About that,” Minho chuckles again, his cheeks now a blooming shade of pink, a tint of yellow from the lamp’s candlelight making the shade a bit orange. “Sana thought we were married, and just so happened to be in a quarrel.”

It was your turn to flush. The thought of being married with Minho fluttered your heart to no end.

“A lot of people seemed to think that way…” Minho spoke. He’s hinting something. Hinting at you how both your affection for each other goes beyond being just friends, that people could easily mistake you for a couple.

“I don’t think I’m done explaining what I feel, but I can’t find any more words, so I will let you have your turn to speak. And if time comes I need to explain more, I will keep letting you know, until you know just how much I adore you; romantically. Because I promise you, no words can explain just how much I feel for you.”

Tears well up in your eyes; overwhelm being an understatement. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you,” you started, heaving in another breath as another wave of tears wells up and ready to fall. “I was scared of losing you, I didn’t know what to do.”

You sniffled, wiping the tears that can’t stop falling. Minho now cupping your cheeks with both hands as he did the wiping for you, making a silent promise to never give you any reason to cry.

“You—she…she just seemed so perfect for you. I can never compete. I’m just me. She’s almost sent from the heavens, made for you. And her hands look soft and smooth and perfect for you…”

Minho grasps your hands with both of his, resting them on his face, “but these are the hands that I love. These hard working ones who helped get through the day. These gentle hands that holds mine when I need them. These caring hands that took care of my kids and flowers with so much care in the world.”

He retaliates your insecurities with the things he came to love about you, and it brought more than enough comfort inside you. “Your hands are rough, and it’s enough proof for what kind of person you are. I’m not saying that Sana is the complete opposite and is lazy—as she’s hard working as well,” Minho chuckles, and it made you let out one as well, knowing that the girl worked hard as well as everyone you knew. “But know that there’s more to you than what you seem. I want you to slowly see yourself the way others, especially the ones you’re close with, see you.”

You nod your head, closing the gap between you to and wrap yourselves once more in a comforting hug. “I apologize again for ignoring you,” you whispered sadly.

Minho rubs your back comfortingly, “I admit I was hurt, but it’s all okay now. As long as you’re here with me.”

You finally sighed contently after weeks of constant hurt and confusion, that you let the words slip past easily from your lips, “I love you.”

Minho can’t help the lovesick grin forming on his lips, as he replied back, “I love you, too.”

An eruption of butterflies from both of you, along with the racing of heart beats, that you swore you can feel his in sync with yours through his thin shirt.

“Does this mean I’m yours?” You asked curiously with a shy smile, looking up from where you rested your head on his shoulder.

Minho’s smile never faded, only growing wider that the corners of his eyes wrinkles in happiness. “Yes. As I am yours, too.”

Your heart wrenches in pain, but not from hurt. You feel something close to a flower blooming, and it was enough explanation that you were absolutely in love with your childhood friend.

“I’m yours, and you’re mine.” You whispered to yourself, smiling.

Minho hears, and replies, “Yes, I’m yours and you’re mine.” He smiles to himself, humming a song in content as he pressed occasional kisses on top of your head, and on your hands that were interlocked. Watching the scenery, just in time as the nocturnal flowers start to bloom, where some even emitted a gentle, blue glow.

Minho could’ve gone with confessing during the day where the flowers were most beautiful to admire and would fit the situation, but this worked well. The night in combination with the nocturnal flowers. They’re like you, he thinks. You’re most active in the night and he found it as beautiful as the flowers in the day. And he thinks that this moment he shares with you tonight, is still as perfect and budding with romance as any other spring love told.

#skz lee minho x reader #lee know x reader #skz lee know #skz fluff #skz angst #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz oneshots #from bruh-changbin's spring fling collab

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snowdice · 2 years ago

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Big Bang Editing Story [Day 109]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51

Not going to do this for much today, but I want to finish the chapter.

Chapter 52 (Mr. Deknis)

It was Jeffers Deknis’s second busiest time of year right after the fall harvest. However, unlike the fall harvest, not all of his workers were yet at the castle. The winter had been harsh and while the last snowfall had been a month ago, many of his workers whose families lived far from the castle had sent word they would be late arriving for various reasons. A few were dealing with sick relatives and others had to help fix things broken by storms for their families before making the trek. One who lived in the mountains up north was still snowed in.

So, he was dealing with only about 70% of his usual staff, meaning he was even busier than he usually was in the spring.

However, despite how busy he was, he didn’t mind taking a bit of time out of his schedule to help plant a little plot of land he’d reserved for a special selection of plants.

Virgil has spent a lot of time deciding on what plant he wanted to grow in the plot Jerffers had given him. He’d combed through multiple books even though it quickly became clear he couldn’t read well and talked to Jeffers about his options extensively before finally coming to a decision.

He’d decided on a flower called Zygopetalum maculatum which was a type of orchid. It wouldn’t be an easy flower to grow considering they didn’t naturally have the right climate for it, but with a bit of magical fertilizer and ruins in the ground near them, it was feasible.

Since Virgil had chosen his flower, Jeffers had dedicated a bit of his time each day to explaining what they needed to do for it to grow and had set him up with the correct materials. Virgil had spent a good chunk of the last two weeks outside on his marked off plot of land doing as instructed to get the soil in the right condition.

Sometimes Logan and Patton joined him and sometimes he was alone, but he was clearly dedicated to his task. Jeffers had stopped by and tested the soil the day before and found it was adequately prepared for planting Virgil’s flowers and had told the boy as much.

Despite being already very busy, Jeffers had allowed for an hour out of his schedule to help Virgil plant his flowers this afternoon.

Even though Jeffers had told him exactly where in his schedule he’d made time for it, Virgil had come early.

Very early.

He’d stalked Jeffers’ footsteps all day. If the boy were a cat, Jeffers would have assumed he’d accidentally left a slice of meat in his back pocket after breakfast.

Jeffers ended up letting him help with a few other things in the morning which he seemed to enjoy. He seemed to appreciate planting things even if they weren’t his flowers. He was also good at it if a bit slower than necessary in his caution to make sure he didn’t mess anything up.

Jeffers ended up sending Patton to get an extra packed lunch from Helen for Virgil (as people didn’t like when the gardeners tracked mud into the dinning hall) and they ended up eating while sitting on the base of the fountain by the plot of land Virgil had been tending to.

The water in the fountain was now flowing, having recently been cleaned and turned on and birds were chirping in the distance. It was a nice, calming environment. This was why Jeffers liked to spend so much time outside. Or at least, it was one of the reasons.

There was a soft meow from beside them that drew Jeffers’ attention. Jeffers looked down to see one of the castle’s many cats standing on its hind legs with one of its paws on the fountain’s base. It was staring at them expectantly. Jeffers recognized the yellow stripped cat as one of the friendlier ones that Patton had tamed as a kitten. It meowed again when it saw him looking.

“What?” Jeffers asked it, raising one eyebrow. “I know you’re not starving.”

It meowed again in complaint. Then it turned to Virgil. Virgil was instantly tearing off a bit of his chicken sandwich to feed to the cat.

“You don’t need to feed him,” Jeffers said. “Patton takes care of that plenty well.”

Despite what Jeffers had said, the cat gobbled up the piece of chicken Virgil had fed him like he was starving.

“It’s Buttercup,” Virgil informed Jeffers. The name vaguely rang a bell.

“You remember all of Patton’s names for them?” Jeffers asked, honestly impressed. There were so many cats.

Virgil nodded and ripped off another piece of chicken. The cat went flying at it with gusto.

“Keep some for yourself too,” Jeffers said. “You look less fed than the cats.” Thankfully he was looking more fed than he had at the beginning of winter.

“But he’s hungry,” Virgil replied with a frown.

“He’s a glutton is what he is,” Jeffers said. “He’s already had his lunch by now I’d imagine and is more than free to hunt down rodents in the barn if he needs a snack.”

Virgil frowned and gave the cat another piece of chicken.

“You’re too good of a kid,” Jeffers said with an eyeroll.

Virgil just frowned at him and took a bite of his sandwich for himself this time.

“Make sure to eat extra dinner if you’re going to feed the cats your lunch,” Jeffers said. “Though I’m sure Helen will be feeding you extra by default when she hears you’ve been helping me in the garden all day.”

“I’m fine,” Virgil said, stubbornly. He took another bite of his sandwich and fed another to the cat.

Jeffers considered him. ‘Fine,’ was a very vague word and his powers didn’t ping on it as a lie because it could mean a variety of things. He had a feeling Virgil knew that.

Jeffers wasn’t a fool. The kids had been talking around his powers about something all summer, though he couldn’t figure out what exactly it was about. Virgil was almost as good at it as Logan. Maybe he was even better.

“Not hungry enough to eat the entire sandwich by yourself then?” Jeffers asked.

Instead of replying verbally, Virgil just shrugged. Clever little bastard.

Jeffers sighed. Helen had packed some of the canned peaches in their lunches, so Jeffers pulled his out and set the container next to the boy. Virgil looked at the offering in surprise.

“Cats don’t eat peaches,” he cautioned. “It’s bad for their digestion.”

“I don’t need to take your food,” Virgil said with a frown.

“Yeah, you do,” said Jeffers. “I’m and old man, not a growing boy. You should eat them.”

Virgil frowned and looked like he was about to argue.

“Eat your lunch so we can plant your flowers kid,” Jeffers huffed.

Virgil hesitated, but the idea of getting to plant his flowers seemed to trump his desire to argue with Jeffers about lunch and he picked up the dish of peaches.

Jeffers went about finishing what was left of his lunch as Virgil continued to eat his own. The cat ran off when it noticed there was no more meat available.

Jeffers rolled his eyes. The thing was probably running off to go scam more people out of their lunch. Patton had spoiled them far too much and they were too good at making cute starving expressions.

“Alright,” Jeffers said once they were done. “Are you ready to plant your orchids.”

Virgil nodded eagerly and Jeffers packed away their trash before getting up.

“Good,” Jeffers said. “You have all of the supplies I told you we needed gathered?”

Virgil nodded and started to list off everything that Jeffers had said.

“Then, we can get started planting,” Jeffers said with a smile.

Chapter 53 (Virgil)

Virgil and Mr. Deknis took their time planting the orchids. Virgil had done everything Mr. Deknis had instructed him to do with the plot of land prior to planting. He’d had Mr. Deknis write it all down, so Logan could read him the instructions each morning, and had dutifully followed each step. The sheet of paper was in Virgil’s pocket even now. He knew the words so well at this point that he could have recited each list item even if it had words he still couldn’t read.

It had been hard work getting the soil just right for the flowers he wanted to plant, but it was fun hard work. Working hard was different when he didn’t have to do something but wanted to do something. He’d also noticed it was easier to do physical labor when he wasn’t hungry, something he hadn’t been all winter in the castle.

He’d thought since he hadn’t been training as much as usual over the winter months that he’d be weaker when Spring came, but he actually felt stronger and had much more energy.

He’d also grown taller without realizing it thanks to Logan’s nutrition potion. He’d noticed when he’d been in the shed earlier. When he’d first hid in the shed upon arriving at the castle the previous fall, he’d been able to walk under all of the hanging tools in the back. Today, he’d hit his head on some of the them.

His body had changed a lot in the past few months. It made planting with Mr. Deknis much easier.

Virgil had already helped Mr. Deknis with planting some vegetables this Spring, but he still was careful to pay attention as the gardener showed him how to plant the first few orchid bulbs.

Then, Virgil was handed the container of bulbs for himself to try planting. Mr. Deknis watched him plant the first few orchids and Virgil glanced up for approval before moving on each time. He always got a nod and small smile.

Eventually, Mr. Deknis took a few bulbs himself to the opposite end of the patch of soil and started planting some himself, trusting Virgil to plant his portion of the flowers right without supervision. Virgil couldn’t help but be happy about the show of trust given to him.

“Good job,” Mr. Deknis said after the two of them had planted two rows of orchids. “You’ve got an eye for planting things.”

“Thanks,” Virgil said bashfully.

“How old are you again?”

“I’m 14,” Virgil said, unsure why he was asking.

Mr. Deknis nodded. “Maybe in a few years you’ll want to get a job as one of the gardeners here,” he said. “I could always use one who knows how to respect plants like you and with how much you’ve been volunteering to help already, you’ll know a good amount by then.”

“Really?” Virgil asked.

Mr. Deknis nodded.

“Why not now?”

“You’re only 14,” Mr. Deknis said. “You don’t need to worry about working. I’m happy to let you tag along and watch or even help a bit with planting when you want, but you should just be a kid.”

That confused Virgil. He’d been considered out of training to be an assassin as soon as he’d turned 14-years-old last fall. Now he was being told he needed to wait a few years to help plant seeds?

“I could do it,” Virgil said.

“I know you could,” Mr. Deknis said, “but you don’t need to. Have a little fun this summer.”

“But I want to,” Virgil said.

Mr. Deknis huffed out a laugh. “I know,” he said, “and you can feel free to care for your orchids and help me out all you want, but no jobs until you’re at least 16.”

“It’s better than any other jobs I’ve had,” Virgil muttered, honestly annoyed he couldn’t become a gardener right now because of his age.

Mr. Deknis raised an eyebrow. “And what other jobs have you had?”

Virgil froze. That was not a good line of questioning. “Uh…” Virgil said and Mr. Deknis’s expression was changing in an alarming way. “Different things. I’ve carried things for people and, uh, cleaned.”

“Carried things and cleaned, huh?” Mr. Desknis said. It felt like he wasn’t only testing Virgil’s words for lies but observing his face and posture too.

Virgil should be good at lying. He should. That was a major part of being an assassin, but Virgil had started to slip after spending so long around people who were not a danger to him.

At least not a danger to him as long as he didn’t get caught in a lie.

He’d been sloppy with the way he’d frozen when asked a question and with the stuttering. He should have been prepared; he was prepared for the next question.

“You only had to carry things and clean some things up?” Mr. Deknis asked, his eyebrows still raised.

Virgil carefully smoothed out his face, forcing his shoulder to relax as he shrugged. “And some other things,” he said easily. Not a lie. He could feel his heart race anyway.

Mr. Deknis’s eyes bored into him for a long moment and then he titled his head to the side and squinted at him.

Virgil just shot him a small smile. “Can we finish planting the flowers, please?” he asked politely. “I was very excited about it and would like to finish it today.”

Mr. Deknis did not reply for a long moment, and Virgil was careful to keep his expression blank.

Finally, the gardener relented, breaking his stare. If this was because he believed Virgil or not was unclear.

“Yeah, kid,” he said slowly. “Let’s finish planting your flowers.”

Virgil nodded, and he didn’t have to lie as much now as cautious eagerness returned to him. He really did want to finish planting his flowers in addition to stopping Mr. Deknis from asking uncomfortable questions about where Virgil had come from.

Mr. Deknis nodded to the bag of bulbs. They went back to work planting the flowers, but Virgil could feel Mr. Deknis’s eyes on him almost constantly. He had a feeling that this time, he wasn’t watching for how well Virgil was planting the bulbs, but something else.

Virgil was careful to not let his mask slip at all the entire time.

When they were finished planting Virgil’s entire plot of land, they cleaned up the equipment and stored it back away in the garden shed.

Another day Virgil might have stayed and helped Mr. Deknis with other things. Today he was still trying to cover for his bad lying earlier, however, so, Virgil decided to just go back to the castle and shower.

To his surprise Mr. Deknis also started walking off in the direction of the castle.

“Don’t you have more planting to do?” Virgil asked when they got to the door. He knew the man was very busy and his workday was only a bit more than half over.

“I do,” Mr. Deknis confirmed, “but I needed to talk to the king about something first.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Okay. I’m going to go shower.”

Mr. Deknis nodded. “I’ll see you sometime later then,” he said.

“Thank you for helping me plant the orchids.”

Mr. Deknis smiled slightly at that. “Anytime, kid.”

Chapter 54 (Patton)

“I still can’t believe he’s allowing this,” King Thomas said from next to Patton. The two of them were standing at the edge of the arena outside the horse stable, watching from a safe distance.

“If he hadn’t tried to bite me earlier, I’d think he was a different horse,” Patton agreed.

“He doesn’t even let Logan ride him,” the king said. “At least not ride him and give him directions.”

Patton was very aware of that. Logan did on occasion choose to get up onto Mr. Apple’s saddle. However, Mr. Apples was always the once who got to decide where they went after that. Logan had no say.

With that in mind, Patton, Logan, and every stable hand who’d heard about the prospective riding lessons had tried to convince Virgil to learn to ride on a different horse. Virgil was just as stubborn as Mr. Apples however and had insisted. Logan, being the only one who could be around Mr. Apples without risk had become his defacto tutor.

Not even Logan could have expected that within a week, Virgil would be able to control Mr. Apples. Though perhaps ‘control’ was the wrong word. Nothing could control Mr. Apples, but for some reason, Mr. Apples seemed willing to do as Virgil asked.

Even right now Mr. Apples was trotting around the training arena like he was a well-trained trick horse warming up with its rider.

“Logan told him we could go on an actual ride today if the lesson went well,” Patton told the king. The lesson seemed to be just getting over because Logan said something to Virgil and Virgil started to climb off. Mr. Apples was patient and still as he dismounted.

“Do you think he’d mind if I went with you?” King Thomas asked.

Patton shrugged. “Mr. Apples might.”

“Mr. Apples definitely will,” the king replied. “I’ll come anyway.”

Logan had walked over to where Patton and the king were standing while Virgil fed Mr. Apples some apple pieces as a reward.

“I hear you are going to go riding today,” king Thomas said.

Logan nodded. “Mr. Apples seems to listen to him well enough,” he said.

“I might join you if that’s alright. Where are you kids going?” the king asked.

“I was thinking the main forest path,” Logan replied. “It’s not a particularly difficult route, but it’s also a part of the castle grounds Virgil hasn’t been able to see yet. Loraine told me it has been recently cleared after the winter.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” the king said. “Are you going now?”

“Once Patton and I saddle up our horses,” Logan said. “You can come.”

“Great,” the king said with a smile. “I’ll ask for Bella’s saddle to be brought out. I haven’t gone on a ride yet this week.”

He turned then to walk towards the stables leaving Patton and Logan alone.

“Do you think he’s been acting weird?” Logan asked, turning towards Patton.

Patton frowned. “No,” he said. “Not really.”

“I’m just wondering why he wants to go horseback riding with us.”

“He likes spending time with you?” Patton guessed.

“Yes,” Logan said, “but typically in a setting that doesn’t involve Mr. Apples.”

Well, that was fair.

“I mean, it’s not too weird,” Patton said, thinking back through the last couple of days. King Thomas had been a bit… clingy.

“He’s been hanging around a lot,” Logan said, echoing Patton’s thoughts with narrowed eyes. He glanced back at Virgil. “You don’t think Virgil let something slip, do you?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Patton said. “I think your dad would say something if he let slip he was an assassin somehow.”

“Unless he let slip something that didn’t quite implicate himself but invited suspicion.”

“Your dad doesn’t seem suspicious,” Patton said. At least, Patton didn’t think he did. He hadn’t been acting mean in any way. In fact, he might have even been acting nicer.

Logan frowned. “We should keep an eye on him, especially around Virgil.”

Patton bit his lip.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Are we ever going to tell your dad about Virgil?” he asked.

Logan hesitated. “I don’t…” he trailed. “I’m not sure.”

“It just feels weird lying for so long,” Patton said. Patton didn’t lie a lot. Sure, maybe he’d pretend to not know what Mama was talking about when sweets went missing from the kitchens or he’d pretend to not know what Logan’s birthday gift was, but he’d never lied about anything serious before now.

“I know, but,” Logan glanced back at Virgil once again, “even if we did decide to tell, we’d have to convince Virgil everything would be alright beforehand. I don’t think we’re at that point yet. He was terrified of Father until a few months ago, and he’s still cautious around him sometimes.”

Logan was right, of course. Virgil was getting more and more comfortable around the king, but he figured any of the progress made would go down the drain as soon as they brought up telling King Thomas about where exactly Virgil had come from. Patton didn’t know if Virgil would ever be comfortable enough.

“We should go get our own horses,” Logan suggested, and Patton nodded.

Patton and Logan’s horses had already been saddled by the stable hands in anticipation of their ride and it didn’t take long for the king to saddle his own horse, Bella.

The forest path at this time of year was very pretty, Patton thought. The tree branches now had small green leaves on them after having been barren for the entire winter and flowers were starting to grow. In a few weeks’ time it would be even prettier, but it would also be harder for the groundskeeper to maintain as well as it was right now.

Virgil really did seem less anxious around King Thomas now. The path was only wide enough for two horses to go at once, and he didn’t seem to mind that he and the king ended up next to each other while Patton and Logan lagged behind. In fact, he and the king seemed to be having a nice conversation about the local wildlife.

However, if Patton looked close enough, he did sort of see what Logan meant. Virgil may not be anxious talking to the king now, but the king himself seemed just a little bit nervous at least at the beginning of the ride.

He seemed to relax a bit as they rode (even laughing when Mr. Apples tried to bite him when he got too close).

Logan had been teaching Virgil the basics about things like animals, but there was still a pretty big gap in his education when it came to anything that wasn’t about training to fight and kill. King Thomas seemed more than willing to answer any of his questions when it came to the animals and plants around them even if they were sometimes a bit silly.

He’d seen a bird that looked like a dove. (It may have even been a dove, but Patton hadn’t seen it.) This had been a source of endless confusion for him.

“But shouldn’t it live in the dovecote?” Virgil asked.

“Not all birds live in a dovecote,” the king explained again.

“But it’s a dove,” Virgil said with a frown.

“Not all doves live in a dovecote,” the king replied.

“But it’s a dovecote,” Virgil argued. “It’s for the doves.”

“Yes, but there are also wild doves,” the king said.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Virgil replied.

“What about it doesn’t make sense?” the king asked with a laugh in his tone.

“Doves go in the dovecote,” Virgil said.

Patton was starting to have trouble following this argument.

“Dovecotes are made for doves,” the king said, “but not all doves go in dovecotes.”

“Why?”

#proofread stories #not writing

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