#i mean like if a banana has like white stuff on the tip and you google it and Google says don't eat it but you do anyway
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Facebook support group for people that have eaten food that's out of date and have survived
#i mean like if a banana has like white stuff on the tip and you google it and Google says don't eat it but you do anyway#and you survive#and you can document your experience so that other people will know the white stuff on a banana is still okay to eat#instead of trusting google and throwing it out and having to go all the way back to the supermarket and#and then put a chapter in my Nana's book titled 'list of things consumed out of date'#and then include items from the husband's chemist shop
1 note
·
View note
Text
I just came back from the DC Metro area.
It was walkable.
Everything was stupid-expensive.
I left a $20 tip at a place that served me and my companion a can of soda and some lobster meat in a bun, and I felt like I was being insanely generous but they were patient with my neurodivergent babble and also it didn't seem like a particularly well-paying job it looked like a brick-and-mortar equivalent of a food truck and so I tipped well. Not that I was paying; my arrangement is sometimes my friends or companions pay and sometimes I pay but I always tip. This time I didn't pay and I didn't even glance at the bill I mean it's two sandwiches. [It's a banana ralph what could it cost?] Actually, I tipped less than 20% it turns out. Lobster is expensive I guess and so after tax the whole was more than a Grant-note apiece.
Anyway. I took a picture of an outdoor sculpture that looks like a giant spider and I'll post it as a Taylor Hebert-related shitpost later.
and I saw some good art in some studios, and had some good food.
And it was walkable.
And there were a lot of very corporate-ugly old-white-selfsatisfied-men advertisements here and there.
and it got worse in the airport,
and it was walkable,
and I hate TSA so much and also airports and various "we're taking your picture" and "this area under video surveillance" and "have your passport ready" nonsense, at the airport (but I suppose it IS DC) and they had even more "either you're a rich professional or you're the underclass and worthy of contempt" advertising
(the TSA pre-check people were also depressing and I begin to think they gave a kickback to the TSA folk to be awful so that folk would be motivated to give a spinal tap and retinal scan and also the better part of a hundred bucks for the privilege of scoffing at the toils and travails that the common classes have to undergo)
"We can't put up a sign telling you if you need to remove your electronics from your bag; we don't know ourselves"
But the outside was walkable.
surprisingly little graffiti. (I only saw a little graffiti and it was all stuff I am in favor of) (I left a few rainbow-resistance stickers and no other tags I don't know the lay of the land well)
but at least it was walkable
and the Metro is so great I could go anywhere
and it has an Amtrak station also,
and it was walkable
I had a very good time
I wish I lived somewhere walkable
I'm back in the benighted bible belt now,
and there are good things here I suppose,
but I want to use Amtrak or--if I must--Greyhound or--if I REALLY must--an airplane to go somewhere with an easily-affordable "metro"
or at least walkable neighborhoods
Today will be the first day in weeks that I probably won't get much exercise. We'll see. I have a used elliptical I rescued/bought/fixed. I should use it more.
but walking to actually *do* something? That was great.
Probably less great during hot months, but still.
It was walkable.
I saw good art and I ate tasty food (a softshell crab BLT was the best thing; I ate it twice) and I shopped at Wegman's and I drank a weird chai-infused rum and I had cuddles and I watched the cityscape at night and I found a cheese I've been wanting to try that we don't have at home and there was water to look at and I read books and finished the remake of Riven (a post in and of itself; so many good reasons to play it) and there were fun people I met and
and it was walkable
and I think that was actually the biggest reason I had a good time.
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Onions!
I realize I've been gone a long time. Between my main blog, my job, and my hobbies, I don't always think about the foodie blog as much as I should have. I don't know if this is the return, but I do want to share more of what I make in the future.
So here's my talk today, it's below the cut (spoiler: it has to do with onions)
So with onions, you've noticed a few varieties while traipsing around the produce section. Big ol' red ones, Vidalia size, white, pearl, etc. The biggest one I want to talk about today is the yellow one!

^ those. They're so versatile and lovely and aren't super pungent when it comes to slicing and dicing them. You may also see them in those mesh bags cause they're sold in bulk. If you're looking to save some money (like I am lately, saving up for college tuition is going to eat up a lot of my free cash), grab a bag! They're usually sold in 3lb bags. If they're on sale, get more than one!
You: but snacks, I am by myself! I don't want to drown in onions.
Me: I have a secret. You can freeze them!
Yes. I was at the store yesterday and saw the yellow onions that sit freely for individual purchase were ENORMOUS. Almost mutant sized. No way was I going to conquer that onion before it went bad. But when I backtracked, I saw a 3lb bag of perfectly sized ones. I picked one up. Though it gave me literally 17 of them, I had a plan, and I'll share it with you.
I kept two or three out in my veggie and fruit bowl for the stuff that can sit at room temp (my onions are snuggled next to my bananas now), and I divided the rest into two separate bowls. One for slicing, and one for dicing.

I had already started slicing the ones in the bowl closest to you before I took the picture. But once they were sliced and shoved into sandwich bags, they laid pretty flat when I put them together.

There's seven bags, meaning seven onions were sliced and put into this gallon sized bag. Now if I need sliced onions for fajitas or in a beef roast, I can just grab a bag and toss it in.

And my diced onions! Great for everything else that would call for onions in a pan or pot. Onions typically freeze pretty well as long as the air is out of the bag, and don't take really any time to prep ahead of time. They don't usually turn to mush when you toss them into a pan.
If you want some other tips or tricks on freezing things, drop me an ask! Thanks for reading!
#its snacks#snacks' guide to food#feel free to use and share!#freezing#onions#a quick guide to i guess preserving
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar Of 24 Normal Human Task As Performed By A Huge Man Baby.
Day 8: It Is The Most Important Meal Of The Day
Warnings: Bad Language Words
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale X Reader
A/N: HELLO! Welcome back for another day of Ransom Drysdale mishaps! Is he hopeless? Well between myself, @what-is-your-plan-today and @jennmurawski13 he seems to be, but I think some day he will get the hang of it. Maybe. Happy Reading!
Series Masterlist

“Why don't we just go out to the Beehive for breakfast?” Ransom questioned with a hand on his hips while you searched the refrigerator to pull out eggs, veggies and ham. You close the door with your hip and walk around your husband with a tired sigh, setting it all out on the counter.
“Because I can just cook for us Ransom. We’ve been out every day this week, and to the Beehive Diner twice for breakfast, I just want to stay home.” You open the cupboards and search for a bowl to whisk your eggs in, and glance at Ransom who seems stuck between agreeing and making an argument that it would be easier to just go. “Besides, I'm making it, you don't have to cook Ransom. If you want to go so bad, go. But I’m staying home.”
His mouth snapped shut and a dark eyebrow arched at you while listening. You sounded tired and even though he thought it was easier to let someone else cook and bring the food to you, you seemed set on just staying home. In your oversized tee shirt that was starting to stretch a bit more over your belly and leggings. “Well I can cook if you want me to.” Ransom finally spoke up, in which You pause, and turn to face him, your hand resting on your belly. “I mean, you do it most of the time, and you are not feeling like going out. Let me.” He stepped forward, catching you by surprise, and wrapped his arms around your waist. “It's about time I learn right? When we have this kid running around, we will be staying home more.”
His logic was sound, and you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and looked up at him, really touched at the effort he was making with all of this. Your fingers tangled at the trimmed hair along the back of his head, and nodded. “Are you sure you know what to do with all this Ransom?”
He rolled his eyes at you with an exaggerated huff escaping, even though you looked doubtful. “Y/N how many times do I have to tell you I’m not a complete invalid. I had a nanny who I watched cook omelets all the time. Whisk some eggs, add that extra crap, fold it over. Done.”
They were eggs, if he can't cook eggs then Ransom really would be hopeless you thought to yourself. “Okay, I am going to go take a shower then since you are offering.” You tilted to your tip toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “If you need anything, get me. I swear Ransom, let's not do another roast pork in the crockpot incident.”
“Are you ever going to let that go Princess?” he huffed against your lips, and you fell back to the flat of your feet.
“Maybe next year, you did almost poison your parents after all Ransom.” Your hand slid against his chest as you pulled away with a grin.
Ransom smirked hearing you, wiggling eyebrows as you headed for the stairs. “Maybe that was actually what I was trying to do Princess.” You shook your head at him and went up slowly. Once you left, Ransom almost considered just calling for a delivery from the diner down the road. They made those omelets you so loved, which is what you seemed to be making by looking at the mix of ingredients on the counter. But you really seemed set against eating out, and that would include takeout.
“Fuck its just eggs, damn it. Your better then letting a couple fucking eggs beat you.” He approached the bowl and started to crack eggs into the bowl. Unsure of how many to do, because he had never actually cooked an omelet before, he just did the whole carton. Grabbing a small knife he had seen you use before, he started to dice the veggies, shred some of the ham and set it all aside. “Well it isn’t no Gordon Ramsey, but not’ bad.” He said out loud to himself while inspecting his handy work of wildly sized vegetables.
Now was time for the real challenge. The actual cooking of these eggs.
It took him a few minutes to get a pan that looked like it was made to cook on the stove, which he cranked on the heat and set the skillet down. While it was heating, he waited thinking that the skillet had to be sizzling before putting the eggs in. Once he saw a small curl of smoke roll out of the pan, he took the massive bowl of eggs he had diligently cracked, and tipped them into the pan.
The sizzle was immediate, egg whites started popping out of the pan from where he didn’t whisk them together enough, the smoke billowed up to fill the room and soon the eggs were boiling over the too small skillet to dry on the electric stove top, and catch on fire.
This all happened in moments. Faster than Ransom was expecting, he watched with a colorful string of curses escaping him as the orange flames crackled amid the black smoke.
“Oh you motherfucker!” He turned off the stove and searched for anything to grab the pan with. “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, son of a bitch.” Ransom is ripping open drawers, and pawing through the cupboard at the bottom of the sink till he finds a hand towel, which he wraps around his hand. Grabbing the handle of the skillet, he shoots for the sink and dumps it all in, turning on the water. Somewhere a fire alarm is blaring and he can hear your footsteps thumping above him to go down the stairs, which he darts out of the kitchen, coughing while using the hand towel to shoo away the burnt smoke clinging to him. “Stop right there Y/N!”
You pause mid step, clutching a towel around yourself, soap still streaked along your shoulders and neck. “Ransom are you okay? Do I need to call the fire department?”
Coughing he waved his hand to have you go back upstairs. “No, it's fine, I got it. You go back to your shower.”
“I think I should really help you…” You started down the stairs, but Ransom went up a few steps to block you and turn you around.
“No, go back upstairs. Your dripping soap all over the rug.”
You try to peek over the railing into the kitchen, but he turns you around and has you start back up the stairs. “Ransom the kitchen is filled with smoke.” You try to stall but he gives you another nudge.
“It's nothing, I got this. Go finish.”
After you finally relented, sputtering all the way back up “I shouldn’t have let him in my kitchen, fuck I hope we can get someone in here to fix it. Maybe Linda knows someone”
Ransom scoffed with a “I heard that, we wouldn't use my mother… BUT THE KITCHEN IS FINE” He raised his voice while you slammed the bathroom door shut. Ransom waited a few seconds to be sure you wouldn’t try coming back down just yet. Then went back down into the kitchen, prying open some windows and went to look at the mess in the sink.
“Fucking hell, I should have just ordered in. Why the fuck didn’t I just order it in?” He heard the shower start back up, and went to the pantry instead, avoiding the stove now. Pushing stuff around while in the pantry, muttering to himself, determined not to make that phone call.
You came back down about fifteen minutes later, cautious as you stepped into the kitchen. The smell of burnt eggs clung to the air, and you started to breath subtly through your mouth, so your stomach did not turn. Ransom sat at the table and you moved over to him, slipping into his lap to see what he had set the table with. Spread out was some of your cups of yogurt, a cut up banana and bundle of grapes, along with your granola cereal.
Ransom's arm circled around your waist, and you reached for a grape, turning enough to offer it to him. “It looks really good Handsome.” You pressed the grape to his lips, and he let it slide in, chewing slowly.
“I can still order in. Twenty minutes for a hot breakfast.” He started and you shook your head, leaning forward to grab one of the yogurt cups to peel off the top as well as the granola to sprinkle in.
“Ransom, this is exactly what your spawn wants right now. Fresh fruit and yogurt. The thought of eggs is a no right now. Might be for a while…”
Ransoms head tilted back while he groaned, knowing it was because he had burned the fucking eggs. Seeing him, you laughed while mixing it up and offered him a bite.
“I am not hungry anymore.” He glared at the spoon of yogurt and you shrugged, taking it for yourself. “I think that stove is broken.”
“I think you just need some actual lessons. Which we're going to do tonight.”
That earned you another groan from Ransom while he pressed his lips to your shoulder. “Fuck it, you should have just let me order in.” he groaned against your skin while you took another bite of yogurt and granola.
#real life tasks with ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale x you#knives out#knives out au#amber writes#swetaer writes
277 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ohhhh, requests? Requests!!!! ❤️
We all know and love SE and the Choi family (Mc, Saeyoung and Saeran living together in the bunker).... But what about. Other way arround?
Saeran after ending, with saeran and saeyoung making amends, and you finally befriending and getting to know the true person behind 707.
Im happy with whatever ideas you have for this, but if you need more guidance... A scene between saeyoung and Mc, talking? Saeyoung thanking mcfor making saeran happy and feeling like he failed as a brother for not protecting him, and mc being all sweet as she is reassuring him that it's OK and that they are happy now and just fluffy??????
Gosh, I wrote a lot, sorry.
Oh wow. I ADORE this request. Thank you for bringing me this sweet idea. ♡
I love envisioning their lives together post-AE, and it was so much for fun me to imagine this tiny little slice of that.
after
Saeyoung & Reader (platonic); Saeran X Reader (background), G, words: 2355
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・
Today there’s one of those early-winter snows where the flurries get stuck in your hair but the ground’s not white and beautiful, just cold and damp. The parking lot is nearly empty—apparently no one else wanted to go out today. Personally, you can’t understand why. You love the way the sky’s a bright white and how the biting wind makes the tips of your ears pink.
Saeyoung, who’s been walking a few paces ahead of you, turns around in time to see you stop and catch a snowflake on your tongue. He raises his eyebrows; he’s got his hood up and there’s a light dusting of snow on top of his head, like powdered sugar.
“I was gonna ask if you regretted coming along now that it’s snowing, but I guess I have my answer.” He’s got a complicated look on his face, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to laugh at you or not.
“I have no regrets!” you sing, and then he does laugh, shaking his head indulgently.
“Come on,” he says. “Your shoes are getting wet.”
“Your shoes are getting wet. Also your head. Who goes to the store in just a hoodie in the winter?” But you run to catch up with him, splashing in the little puddles that have collected in the uneven pavement.
“It was the hoodie or the floor-length pink fur coat, so I went for the hoodie,” he says, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
The automatic doors slide open for you; he grabs a shopping cart from the assortment parked just inside the door. You walk beside him, feeling a little awkward. Grocery store etiquette, you think, is such a personal thing. Saeran, for instance, likes to go slowly through the store, lingering in each area—looking for inspiration, sometimes checking recipes on his phone. You like to move through the store at random, picking out items that strike your fancy. These methods work surprisingly well together—perhaps because Saeran finds it charming when you come running up to him with a strange new fruit in your arms.
Saeyoung, it seems, has neither a list nor a plan. He pushes the shopping cart lazily with one hand, heading vaguely toward the nearest aisle. You’re tempted to guide him in one direction or another, but you also don’t want to be a nuisance. This is his shopping trip—he was the one who announced he was going to the store; you were the one who’d insisted on tagging along.
“Are you sure?” he’d asked then, hesitating, one hand already on the doorknob. “You don’t need to! I can get whatever you—”
“I want to,” you’d said firmly, jumping off the couch where you’d been lying with your feet in Saeran’s lap, reading a book. It wasn’t that you needed anything in particular from the grocery store or that you didn’t trust Saeyoung to find whatever was needed for the house (though, in retrospect, it wasn’t that you did trust him, either). It was just…
In the few precious days that you’d been living in the bunker with the brothers—in a world that was suddenly so peaceful you couldn’t quite believe it—you’d begun to realize something: in spite of the hours of phone conversations and chats you’d shared with the enigmatic and charming 707, you actually hardly knew Saeyoung at all.
“So, uhhh,” he begins, a bit uncomfortably. You glance at him askance; his cheeks are pink. “What do we need, anyway?”
You laugh—you can’t help it. “What were you going to buy if I didn’t come with you?”
Saeyoung shrugs, looking down. He’s definitely blushing. “I was gonna…wing it.”
Maybe it’s his inexplicable shyness with you and maybe it’s your genuine love of grocery shopping, but your confidence is bolstered. You take the cart from him and he relinquishes it gratefully, falling into step behind you.
“First we’re going to get produce,” you tell him, and he nods eagerly, bouncing on his heels. He honestly looks excited that you’ve taken the lead; you make a mental note about this. At home, Saeyoung is often in charge—of little things, like what movie you’ll all watch together—because he is boisterously enthusiastic about everything and you and Saeran are more subdued. But here, without his twin, outside of his domain, he is suddenly much less confident.
You select a few types of squash; he watches somewhat reverently. “How do you know what to get?” he asks in a quiet voice.
“Practice, I guess,” you say. “I have in mind a couple of recipes we can make this week, and there are some staples it’s always good to have…” You pause, realizing something, your hands full of squash. “Saeyoung, can I ask you something?”
“What? Yeah!” He responds a little too readily and you know he’s trying to mask his awkwardness. It’s endearing.
“You lived alone for a pretty long time,” you say thoughtfully. You survey the selection of cabbage. “Didn’t you…buy food? To eat?”
He laughs, runs a hand through his already-messy red curls. “God Seven doesn’t need food to live!” he sings, and it’s in the tone of the 707 you’d developed a strange friendship with during those days you were at Mint Eye. You know now that Saeyoung was there, even then, under all that false positivity and diversionary teasing.
“You do, though,” you tell him. You hand him a head of cabbage.
Your firm tone seems to quell him. He looks down at the cabbage.
“I ate snacks, mostly,” he says, a little more quietly. “Sometimes Vanderwood got frustrated and brought me other things to eat.”
You turn away to hide the look in your eyes from him. These poor, poor boys.
“You two!” you explain in mock-frustration, pushing the cart to the next refrigerated shelf. “So you were living on junk food while he was keeping himself alive with caffeine pills. What am I going to do with you?”
Saeyoung bounces behind you, still holding the cabbage.
“Feed us!” he says. You roll your eyes and tear a plastic bag off the role beside the shelves.
“Put the cabbage in the bag,” you tell him. He does.
You gather a few more fruits and vegetables and Saeyoung asks about all of them; you’re amused when he doesn’t know what a persimmon is.
“So besides chips and stuff, then, what do you like to eat?” you ask him, pushing the cart into the large, open area where meat and fish sit on ice, row after chilly row.
Saeyoung hums thoughtfully, peering at a particularly large fish, complete with eyeballs and everything. “This is creepy,” he says. “Can we get it?”
“We…can,” you say. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”
He walks a little ahead of you, and he looks at each different type of meat with such curiosity. They’re both like this, you think—so full of wonder over basic, mundane things. Saeran was in awe the first night the three of you settled in on Saeyoung’s huge couch to watch TV together. And now here is Saeyoung—who’s had considerably more freedom than his brother—staring at an assortment of different cuts of meat like he’s in a museum.
“I’m not sure,” he says finally, tilting his head to the side. “I love chips, and, you know, fish-shaped buns…”
“But is there a meal you like? Maybe from, I don’t know, the past…?” You regret the words as soon as they’re out of your mouth.
Saeyoung laughs bitterly. “Not from childhood, if that’s what you mean.”
“Right,” you say. “Yeah. I knew that. I’m sorry.”
He comes back to your side, leans on the cart. “It’s okay,” he tells you. “I don’t mind.”
“Still,” you say. “Sorry.” You steer the cart toward a display of different chicken parts and he pads along beside you—like an obedient dog, you think.
“What’s the difference between…” he bends over, peering at the packages. “Breasts and thighs?”
You giggle. “You tell me.”
You watch as his face turns red, clashing wonderfully with his hair.
“Um, l-let’s get the…thighs, I guess,” he chokes, and you stifle your laughter with your hand.
“Thighs it is.”
He throws the chicken into the cart with his face turned away and you grin. 707 was a tease, but it is easy to fluster Saeyoung.
You move through the aisle of bottled sauces in companionable silence. You hold up a bottle of bottle of soy sauce and he nods enthusiastically; he does the same for the fish sauce and corn syrup. To test him, you hold up a banana ketchup—which you’ve personally never actually tried—and he gives you the same affirmative head bob.
“Saeyoung, do you know what this is?”
He tilts his head to the side, reads the label.
“Banana ketchup? Yum!”
You sigh. “Fine.” You toss it in the cart; maneuver to the next aisle.
“You didn’t even have soy sauce or salt or anything in your house when we moved in,” you say. “There was literally nothing in the cabinets.”
He strolls along beside you, running a finger along the rows of different kinds of pasta. “It never occurred to me.”
“We were kind of surprised,” you add, tossing a big bag of rice into the cart. “We bought a bunch of stuff, before we…left.” You stumble over the words; gears spin frantically in your brain. The words hang heavily in the air between you. Before we left to find you. Before we found you and then lost you again.
He’s silent for a moment and you know he feels the change in atmosphere, the way time seems to have slowed down.
“Hey,” he says finally. He’s got one arm draped over the side of the cart and his posture is a little stiff. “Did I ever thank you? I mean, properly.”
You bite your lip, keep walking. Your face feels hot. Suddenly, you’re not really looking at what’s on the shelves.
“You did,” you say softly. “But I feel I should be the one thanking you. You’re the reason we’re both alive, you know.”
Saeyoung stops, and you almost crash into him. He spins around, and he’s got a hard, determined look in his face. You’ve seen that look before.
“No,” he says. “Nuh-uh. You saved us. You protected him. You did what I didn’t…couldn’t—”
Ah. Your heart’s pounding against your ribcage. Of course it’s here, you think—in this narrow aisle, next to hundreds of loaves of bread, that he’s saying this to you.
“Saeyoung, he knows that you would die for him. You tried to.”
He stuffs his hands in his pockets, walks away from you, lingers at the end of the aisle. The change in him is remarkable. There’s no hint of the awestruck boy, bouncing up and down over the wide selection of steaks, in this morose, bitter man.
“I didn’t succeed, did I?” he says. A mother with a small child seated in the front of her shopping cart comes down the aisle and you back up into the shelves to let them pass. You wonder if they can feel how thick the air is.
“No, you didn’t,” you say. “And thank god, because where would we be if you had?” He finally looks at you then, and you’re taken aback by the wild look in his eyes. It scares you; you take a step toward him. “You fought for him,” you tell him. “And he fought for you.”
His fingers drum a frantic pattern on the metal shelf beside him. He’s got the look of a cornered animal, ready to bolt. You’ve seen this expression before—though on a different Choi brother.
“I was supposed to protect him,” he says, so quietly you can hardly hear him. You take one more step. Another. Finally you’re at his side, and he flinches, but he doesn’t run away.
“You did,” you say. “And he’s safe. All of us are safe.”
He doesn’t say anything.
“We’re going to buy this stuff,” you tell him. “We’re gonna pay for it, and get in the car, and go back home, and he’ll be there. Waiting for you.”
Saeyoung shuts his eyes and takes a long, slow breath. You do it with him. He runs a shaky hand through his hair again and you give him a little nudge with your elbow. Eyes still closed, one side of his mouth twitches upward—a half-smile.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “I didn’t mean to…”
“I know.”
“I just feel like I owe you…”
“Me too.”
His eyes open; they’re clearer, bright and gold behind his glasses.
“You don’t owe me anything,” he says, and it sounds like a question.
“I love him,” you say. “So, I think I do.”
Saeyoung shakes his head; the color’s back in his cheeks now, and he grabs the cart, pushing it out of the aisle. You jog to catch up, grab onto the side just as he’d done earlier. Hold on tight.
“You love him a lot, don’t you?” he says. You can see him in your peripheral vision—his eyes are twinkling.
“More than anything in the world,” you reply.
“Me too,” he says, echoing you, and you grin. You picture the look on Saeran’s face if he could hear this conversation—the way his green eyes would soften, the way he’d get that adorable little dusting of pink over his cheeks.
Saeyoung turns the cart abruptly, maneuvering into the next aisle with an expertise you didn’t expect—you shriek, barely holding on. He cackles.
“We need this!” he says, and you turn to see him pointing at an alarmingly large box of some sort of purple cookie you’ve never seen before.
We don’t, you almost say, but you hesitate, because what’s the harm?
“Sure,” you say, and you toss them in the cart.
Saeyoung smiles. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says. You know he’s not talking about the stupid cookies.
You beam right back at him. “I am too.”
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
Let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!
@currentlyprocrastinating @thesirenwashere @ultrasupernini @cro0kedme @otomefoxystar @dawn-skies06 @nad-zeta @hunterelys
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
Family Weekend
The Teen Titans headed out for a weekend with their families. Wonder Girl was running a mission with her Amazon sisters. Impulse had planned out some fun with her parents and twin brother. Virus left for their homeworld. Nightstar spent time with her mothers.
Robin, having left Gotham over a year earlier and not looked back, assumed he'd spend the weekend alone in Titans Tower. Then Red X broke in.
Part of Batkid and Robin
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Robin stared down at his tea with a frown, tapping his fingers against the mug randomly. A small buzz came near and he sighed. “Don’t try it, Virus.” When the buzz kept coming, he glared behind him at the blue Roomba slowly making its way towards him.
It paused, then sighed. Electric blue energy pulled out of the robot vacuum, leaving the black device to roll off on its own. The energy collected into a blue humanoid form with geometric white patterns across them. The patterns on their face formed into a pout as they leaned against the kitchen counter. “How did Robin know?”
He just smirked and turned away.
“Come on!” the Gexin whined and threw themself over Robin’s lap, making the barstool rock slightly. “Robin has to tell Virus how Robin knew Virus was the tiny floor robot. Please!”
“The thing was blue,” Nightstar called from the couch, not looking up from her book.
“Nightstar and Robin have not seen the tiny floor robot before. The tiny floor robot could have always been blue.”
“There’s also the fact Roombas are banned from the tower,” Robin pointed out, patting Virus’s back. “So it had to be some kind of prank.”
“Speaking of, why is there a Roomba in the tower?” Nightstar asked, looking up with a glare and Virus shifted into their amorphous form to hide behind Robin.
“The tiny floor robot is Impulse’s,” they said quickly. “Virus just borrowed the tiny floor robot.”
“Wow, hey, way to snitch!” Impulse huffed, zipping up next to Robin. “And for your information, it’s not a Roomba. Roomba’s are made by iRobot. Uncle Arsenal made this one. Its name is Voobo.”
Robin gave her a look. “Get rid of it before Wonder Girl gets back or its name will be Crushed.”
“Come on, Rob. Can’t it stay?” she asked, batting her eyes.
He was unmoved. “Remember last time?”
“It was a joke! Come on, no one even got hurt. I thought you’d like it. Having Dags around would have kept us on our toes. You love that ‘Constant vigilance!’ stuff.”
“You took one of Wonder Girl’s daggers,” Nightstar said.
“Well, yeah. I wasn’t going to strap one of our kitchen knives to the thing,” Impulse scoffed. “I cook with those, unlike some people.”
“No Roombas -- or Roomba-like devices -- in the tower,” Robin declared.
Impulse booed him and Virus poked part of themself out from behind him so he could see their face patterns making it appear they were sticking their tongue out.
“Hey, you want it to get crushed, be my guest.”
“Shouldn’t you two be packing?” Nightstar asked.
“Nightstar is one to talk,” Virus huffed.
“All my stuff was packed up last night because I’m capable of thinking ahead.”
“Virus only has a few files that Virus needs to transfer into roving storage,” the Gexin hummed, leaning against Robin’s back. “The transfer will only take a minute or two so the transfer can wait until Virus is about to leave.”
“And I’m a speedster. People would get suspicious if I wasn’t late,” Impulse shrugged and scooped up the knockoff Roomba.
“Well, Flash was supposed to be here ten minutes ago so you should probably get packed,” Robin pointed out.
Her eyes widened and she glanced down at her phone. She gave a curse and darted out of the room.
Virus jumped over the counter and grabbed a banana. As they absorbed it, they asked, “When is Nightstar going to leave?”
She shrugged. “Ommi’s waiting for me at a diner nearby since I was waiting for Flash to get here so we could all say our goodbyes together and she’s still tracking down exactly where Troia, Ilia, and Wonder Girl are. We’re going to go raid whatever mission they’re on before Mom gets back from Tamaran tonight.”
“Okay. Then Virus will go do the transfer so Virus is ready to go as soon as Impulse leaves.”
Nightstar shrugged and went back to her book. Though, as soon as they were gone, she tossed it aside and turned her focus on Robin. “You know, I can cancel. Ommi won’t mind messing with Donna, Cassie, and Yara on her own.”
“Kory will be upset if you miss Family Weekend,” Robin pointed out, turning back to his tea.
“She hasn’t been planetside for two weeks. I’m sure Ommi, Uncle Roy, and Uncle Biz will be happy to keep her distracted. Not like we get up to much even when I am there. I’ll just call her later.”
“There’s no reason for you to stay. Go have fun annoying Yara with Artemis,” he sighed.
“If you’re going to spend the whole time brooding all alone again then there’s plenty of reason to stay.”
“You’re the queen of brooding,” Robin chuckled halfheartedly.
“Which means I know how much brooding alone sucks,” she said, getting up and moving to stand over him. “I’ll stay and we can brood together.”
He sighed again and set the mug on the counter. He met her eyes. “I’m fine, Mandy.”
“Dick -”
“Seriously. I’m just going to catch up on some work. I could use the quiet and you deserve some time with your moms. You said Kory’s been getting better.”
“Fine, but -”
“Yara’s on a mission in the Amazon Basin, Irey’s got all sorts of plans set up with her parents and Jai, and Galvio’s going to be off-world. None of them need to be popping in or coming back early just because you think I can’t be alone for a couple of days.” When she opened her mouth, he added, “And neither do any of the other Titans. They’re all working hard to cover for us so we can have this break and don’t need to add babysitting me on top of that.”
She scowled and sat down on the stool next to his. “It’s not that I think you can’t be alone, it’s just that I think you shouldn’t be alone.”
“Thanks.”
“You know what I meant,” she growled, pushing his chest hard enough to make his barstool tip backward.
He hooked his food around hers and righted the stool before it could fall. “I’ll be alright. A little alone time is good once in a while.”
Impulse ran through the room, stopping only long enough to say, “Dad’s here!” before she was gone again.
Nightstar tisked and stood up. “You’re sure?”
He nodded and she turned away. “Fine, but I’ll have my T-Comm on me if you need anything.”
He didn’t respond.
She grabbed her book as Flash ran in.
“Hey kids,” he said, glancing at the two. “Where are the others?”
“Wonder Girl’s already gone, Virus is preparing to leave, and Impulse is packing,” Robin answered.
“Course she is,” the man chuckled. “I’d say she gets it from me, but Uncle Barry was the exact same way so maybe it’s the Speed Force.”
“I think you guys just like to use that as an excuse to be lazy,” Nightstar said as she left.
“I’m sure Artemis would agree,” Wally chuckled. He turned to Robin and the boy stiffened.
Not visibly enough that Flash would notice, but visible enough that…
Robin turned away to grab his tea.
“So, you heading to Goth-”
“No.”
The man shot over to sit on the stool Nightstar had been using. “One of these days I’m going to get you to tell me how exactly you’re related to the Bats.”
“Good luck with that,” he scoffed. He looked up at the man. “You work with three of them. Four when Flamebird’s having a good day. Why not just ask them?”
Shut up. You don’t care. They don’t care so you don’t care.
Flash snorted. “Right. Like getting info out of a Bat isn’t impossible. If I ask Signal, he just shakes his head and says it’s not his place. Orphan just looks sad when you get brought up and won’t talk for a while. Flamebird won’t talk to me, to begin with, so he’s out. His old man hasn’t been much better since Batkid died -- not that I blame him -- and he only got worse when that new thief showed up in Gotham a few months ago so there’s no chance of him saying anything.”
They don’t care.
“If it’s so impossible, then why do you keep bugging me.”
“Well, you’re not really a Bat, right?”
Robin’s fingers tightened around the mug. “No, I’m not.”
“There you go then.”
He glared down at the tea.
Distract.
“What were you saying about a thief? Catwoman got a rival?”
Flash shrugged. “It’s Gotham stuff so we don’t hear much, but I have heard the new guy’s been giving her a run for her money. It’s not only that though. He’s apparently claimed a chunk of the city as his own and screws with anyone that messes around in his territory without his permission. Especially if they involve kids.”
Robin hummed, not paying attention.
Cass doesn’t care. She’s just sad because I remind her of Jay.
“I think he’s called Red -”
“Daddy!” Impulse shrieked as she came streaking through the room to throw herself at Flash, who was already on his feet with his arms outstretched to catch her and pull her into a hug.
Virus came skipping in after her at a much slower pace, a duffle bag in his arms. Nightstar was a few steps behind wearing her battle armor with a rucksack hanging from one shoulder.
“There’s my light! You ready to go?”
“Yup! Just got to say bye to the others,” she said, squeezing him. She let go and passed the bag Virus was carrying to her father before pulling the Gexin into a hug. “Bye, Vi!”
“Goodbye, Impulse! Tell Turtle Virus says hello.”
“I will. Tell Galv-11 I say hi! Twin solidarity!” She pulled away to hug Nightstar. “Have fun with your moms!”
“Yeah, yeah.” She gave Impulse’s back two pats before pushing her away.
The redhead just smiled at her before throwing herself at Robin, a move that would have knocked him off the stool and spilled his tea if he hadn’t seen it coming and braced himself. “Bye, Rob! See you Monday!”
“See you, Pulse.”
She pressed a quick -- for non-speedsters -- kiss to his cheek before pulling away. She gave the group a wave as she took her dad’s hand then the two were gone.
“Well, I’m off,” Nightstar said, adjusting the pack and glancing at her remaining teammates. Her gaze lingered on Robin. “Unless someone’s changed their mind.”
“Bye, Star,” Robin said pointedly.
She nodded to him, then Virus.
“Goodbye, Nightstar. Virus has completed the transfer so Virus will be leaving too.”
“Bye Virus.
They waved then dove into the phone outlet that connected to the satellites on the roof.
“Don’t cause Yara too much of a hassle. You do have to work together when you both get back.”
“Yeah, yeah. We all know she loves it,” Nightstar said, waving him off as she turned to leave. “Talk to you later, Dick.”
“Later, Mandy.”
He waited a few moments after the door shut behind her before getting up to go to the couch, tea still in hand. He sat down and grabbed the tablet he’d left on the coffee table. A few clicks had the security feeds up. The speedsters were long gone, Virus was just finishing the transfer over to the Justice League’s long-range satellites that would let him system hop back to his homeworld, and Nightstar was making her way out. He watched her progress until she was completely out of range before tossing the tablet to the side and slumping back against the couch.
He took a sip of his tea and scowled. He set it on the table and buried his face into his hands.
Over a year and a half away from Gotham and he still couldn’t figure out how Alfred made a cup of tea taste like anything other than gross leaf water.
He didn’t know why he still bothered. He’d never liked tea all that much, even when Alfred made it.
It was just… stupid Family Weekend. He hated it. Hated being alone. Hated seeing the others all disappear to spend time with their families. All it did was remind him of everything he’d lost.
Everyone he’d lost.
Or never had to begin with.
He wouldn’t begrudge any of his friends their family time, though, and he certainly wasn’t going to make anyone stay behind with him just because he was a little lonely, even if that meant telling Nightstar a few white lies.
He just wished he had somewhere to disappear off to as well.
He forced himself upright and turned on the tv. He tried to lose himself in a horror movie as he fought down memories of Barbara’s hacking lessons, memories of pranks he’d played on the others with Cassandra, memories of patrolling with Damian, memories of Duke helping him with his English homework, memories of early morning coffee and cereal runs with Tim, memories of nail painting gossip sessions with Stephanie, memories of Jay’s… memories of Jason.
He considered checking in with the Titans East, maybe even visiting, but Nightstar definitely would have considered he’d try that and told Speedy to let her know if he contacted them. Considering the friendly rivalry they had going on after defeating the Master of Games, she’d definitely sell him out in a heartbeat.
Patrolling was also out since Irey would still be monitoring the Teen Titans' social media so she’d know instantly if he left the tower, something he wasn’t supposed to do since they were all supposed to take Family Weekend off, even if he stayed in town.
Normally he’d bury himself in work, but he didn’t actually have any open cases right now.
One good thing about Gotham’s crime rate, you never had to worry about not having an open case.
Shut up!
Robin was so distracted trying to distract himself from his intrusive memories, he almost didn’t notice when the air in the room shifted slightly about an hour after Nightstar left. His hand subtly moved to his utility belt, but he let it drop after a second.
He glared to the side as something invisible settled next to him on the couch. “What are you doing here?”
Red X faded into view with a shrug. “The better question is what are you doing here, kid? I was told you lot were clearing out for your little Family Weekend thing.”
“You were told?”
“Alright, so I might have been eavesdropping on Wonder Babe and Zippy.”
“What are you after?” Robin growled. He stood up and drew his staff as he went over everything in the tower and tried to figure out what Red X would consider worth stealing.
“Calm down,” Red X said, leaning back and putting his feet up on the coffee table. “I just ticked someone off and need a place to lie low for a few days. Didn’t plan to take anything.”
“Right,” Robin said sarcastically. “You didn’t plan to take anything.”
Red X chuckled and held up his hands. “Alright, you caught me. Tell you what. You let me stay and I’ll keep my hands to myself from now until Monday.”
“And return what you’ve already grabbed on your way here?”
It was only thanks to his experience with masks that hid the eyes that the hero could tell Red X was rolling his as he pulled a handful of Robin’s feathers and one of his spare expandable bo staffs from the suit’s hidden pockets. He tossed them onto the table, saying, “You really need to learn how to lighten up, kid.”
Robin lowered his weapon, but didn’t put it away. “Who’d you tick off? And how?”
Red X shrugged and relaxed back onto the couch, grabbing the remote. “The old man. One of the others accidentally got hurt during my last score so now the lot of them are out for blood. They found my place in Jump so it was either skip town until I can get a new place or lay low. And I’m pretty sure skipping town is what they want me to do so here I am. Doubt they’ll think to look for me here.”
“Why would they want you to skip town?” Robin asked as he took in the new information. He’d never realized Red X was part of a team. Who was the old man?
“Uh, because then I’ll have to go back home and that’s their turf,” he said slowly, like it was obvious.
“Where are you from?”
Red X paused in his channel surfing and looked up at him. “You don’t know?”
Robin glared at him.
“No, seriously, you don’t know who I am?”
“I thought I made that clear the first time we met.”
“Yeah, the first time, but…” Red X set down the remote and leaned closer. “Kid, when was the last time you talked to your family?”
That was the final straw.
Robin swung his staff at the thief, who flipped out of the way. Through clenched teeth, he said, “I think the fact I’m here during Family Weekend makes it pretty obvious I don’t exactly have a family to talk to.”
Red X struck out with one of his x’s trying to wrench the staff from Robin’s hands. “Shut up, kid. You can play whatever lost bird act you want for the rest of the world, but we both know you’re one of Batman’s toy soldiers.”
The hero snarled and aimed for the thief's head, but he managed to grab it and disarm him before it made contact. “I’m not a Bat just because I trained with them for a time.”
“Sure, kid.”
“I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but I’ve been a hero outside of Gotham longer than I was one there.”
“Oh, I noticed,” Red X said lowly, tossing the staff aside. “What that idiot was thinking letting Flamebird send you all the way across the country right after Batkid got blown up, I’ll never know.”
Robin flinched back at the accusation before his fists clenched at his sides. “Then you’ll be happy to know no one sent me here. It’s just where I ended up when Batman decided he didn’t want to work with me anymore and tossed me out.”
Red X froze and the hero could feel the thief studying him. When he spoke, there was something sharp and venomous in his tone. “He kicked you out.”
“He kicked me off the team, yeah,” Robin said. “He didn’t want me on the team anymore so I found a new one. Like I said, I’m not a Bat. Why does this even matter?”
“He kicked you out,” Red X repeated. Then he was turning on his heel and marching out.
“Where are you going?”
“Forget hiding out. I’m going to go kill Batman. A nice x to the grapple line will solve all our problems.”
Before Robin could move, Red X teleported away.
“Great,” he growled, running his hand through his hair. He grabbed his tablet and ran to the door. As he rode the elevator down to the garage, he checked the security, running the cameras through all the frequency settings. All that came up were two blips, Red X’s entrance and exit.
As he ran up to his R-Cycle, he considered what to do. He couldn’t just do nothing about an honest death threat (and he knew Red X was serious, even he didn’t understand why), but Batman had made it clear he didn’t want Robin getting involved in Gotham. Maybe if he could get to Red X before he left town…
Well, he’d have to hope he could. If not, he’d have to bribe Dove into passing along the message to Oracle or Batgirl the next time she checked in with the Birds of Prey so they could warn Batman. After that, the thief would be completely out of his hands.
He took his R-Cycle out, but only went as far as the nearest highrise before taking to the rooftops. It wasn’t as effective a tactic in the daylight, but it would still limit the amount he was seen so, hopefully, Irey wouldn’t notice he was out.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could do. He’d been trying to locate Red X’s hideout since the thief had appeared, but thanks to the invisibility and teleportation abilities granted by the suit as well as the thief’s own skills and the fact Robin still didn’t know what he looked like under the mask, it was slow going. He’d managed to narrow it down to a certain neighborhood after months of work, but patrolling the area didn’t turn anything up so he couldn’t be sure if Red X was there or if he’d already left.
After two hours with no sign of the thief, he decided to head back in. As he rode back up the elevator, he set up a program to track anyone leaving town for Gotham by train or air and double-checked the algorithm he and Virus had set up to search for Red X on traffic cameras. Neither was likely to turn anything up since Red X was too cautious and Oracle was sure to set up her own once the case was handed over to the Bats, but he had to do something in the meantime.
And if it showed them he knew what he was doing…
Of course, none of that mattered when he walked into the main room of the tower to call Dove and found Red X relaxing on the couch.
“Were you seriously lying about killing Batman?” Robin growled. His anger was less about the thief lying and more because he’d fallen for it, but he was still pretty annoyed all the same.
“Nah. I just realized that you being here also means the others didn’t do anything about the old man kicking you out, and wiping out Gotham’s Bat infestation is going to actually take a bit of planning,” Red X said. That same acidic anger tainted his words, but now it was wrapped in a thin veil of restraint. He could see that same fragilely controlled anger in the thief’s body as he came closer, hidden almost perfectly under his relaxed ruse.
“You really think I’m going to just sit back and let you stay here while you’re plotting murder?” Robin said, stepping in front of the thief and crossing his arms.
“Calm down, kid. I’m not going to do any planning here,” he snorted, tilting his head to see more of the tv around the hero.
“That’s not the point.”
“If you’re worried about being an accomplice, then you’ll be happy to hear you couldn’t stop me if you tried.”
Robin pulled out his staff and Red X went stiff.
“Kid, you do not want to fight me right now. Just sit down and watch the movie.”
“Why?” Robin asked, slipping into a fighting stance. “Why are you even going after the Bats?”
“He kicked you out,” Red X growled, the sound of his control cracking slipping in his voice.
“So?”
Suddenly the thief was on his feet and grabbing the front of Robin’s suit.
The hero tried to strike him with his staff, but he deflected the blow and pulled him in until they were nose-to-helmet.
“He kicked you out! He fucking kicked you out! Not even three months after he put a kid in the ground, you were on the other side of the country fighting aliens! Alone!”
“I was-”
“And where are the others? Have you even talked to them? Have they tried to talk to you? They have to know where you are, even if Oracle wasn’t as semi-omniscient as she is! You and your clubhouse are all over the news! Has she or Orphan reached out? Signal? Batgirl? Hell, Tim might be an ass, but I thought he’d at least check-in to make sure you didn’t get killed.”
Robin’s breath caught in his throat and he choked out, “How -”
“Where the fuck was Damian in all this? Did he seriously not say shit about Bruce tossing his fucking kid out?”
Despite his best efforts, he was shaking. He wasn’t sure if it was because Red X somehow knew who the Bats were or because everything he had been burying and reburying ever since he left Gotham was being unearthed and shoved in his face even worse than it normally was during Family Weekend, but he couldn’t breathe.
“You weren’t even at the funeral!”
Robin flinched so hard he’d jerked himself free off Red X’s grip and toppled backward. He slammed his eyes shut against the sting of tears and ducked his head as he took in ragged breaths.
That was not the Bats’ fault. That was all him, and the guilt would always weigh on him.
He’d been selfish, so lost in his own problems that he’d completely forgotten Jason’s funeral. He only even realized he missed it when he spotted the pictures in the news and read about it in the gossip columns. His absence had been noticed, of course. Bruce and Damian told everyone he was sick since it had been before he’d been gone long enough for them to need the boarding school lie, but some didn’t believe it. Dick had read every horrible word there’d been to read.
He deserved it.
As soon as he’d realized his mistake, he’d bought some flowers and spent hours in the cemetery apologizing over and over again, but he knew it’d never make up for what he’d done.
“Don’t you get it? They already let one kid run off and stupidly get himself killed and then they just -”
Robin was on top of Red X in a second, pinning him against the couch. “Don’t you ever talk about Batkid like that! He… What happened to him… You don’t get to talk about him!”
It was meant to come out a snarl, but the tears he was fighting back rang out clearly.
He expected another quip, or for Red X to at least try to fight, but he just stared up at Robin as he went limp in the pin. “Kid…”
“How do you know who they are?” the hero snapped, wanting to focus on something -- anything -- else.
“I’m so sorry. If I’d known they hadn’t told you…” the thief started softly. “I thought…”
“Thought what?”
They just stared at each other for a moment, then Red X raised his hands.
The hero watched for any signs of an attack, but the thief just brought his hands to the helmet. He hit the release and pulled the helmet off.
Robin’s breath caught in his throat for the second time.
Under the helmet was a domino mask, light grey with black outlining the white lenses. Even still, Robin had seen the boy behind the mask in a domino too many times to not recognize him.
He was older, his hair a bit longer and choppier. He had a few new scars and his hair was a white color in the front that was just a little too bright to be natural. It was him though.
“Jay?”
Jason gave a familiar grin as he let the helmet fall to the floor. “Hey, Dickie.”
Robin threw himself off the older boy, scrambling to his feet and pointing his staff at him. “No. Jason’s gone. Dead. I don’t know who you are or why you look like that, but…” Robin was losing the fight against his tears.
“Red Bird,” Jason said softly. He reached out for Robin and the hero swatted his hand away.
“Don’t! You’re-He’s dead! You can’t be him!” Unless… Jason had to be dead. It couldn’t have been a test.
A test he must have failed. That’s why Bruce…
“No. He has to be dead,” Robin said, shaking his head and taking a step back. “He-You wouldn’t have lied to me about that. Not… Not Jason. He wouldn’t.”
“Oh, Dickie.” Jason came forward, ducking under Robin’s strike to pull him into a hug. “It wasn’t a lie, I promise. I did die. I just… got better.”
“Got better?” Robin sniffed and dropped his arms, not returning the hug or pushing away from it as tears filled his eyes and slipped past the mask. “How do you get better from being dead?”
“Heck if I know,” Jason sighed and eased the mask off Dick’s face. As he gently brushed the tears away, he explained, “I just woke up inside my coffin months later. I didn’t… I wasn’t all there so I ended up just stumbling around Gotham for a few weeks until I got brought to a hospital. The step-mom from hell found me there somehow and stole me away to toss me in one of her stupid green pools.”
“She put you in a Lazarus Pit?” Dick hissed, finally hugging his brother back.
“Yeah. Don’t know if she was trying to hurt Bruce and Damian again by screwing up my head or if she was in one of her Maybe they’ll love me this time! moods and honestly thought it would help. I didn’t stick around to find out, just rampaged through the compound until I was able to escape. I managed to make my way back to Gotham, but…” Jason pressed his face into Dick’s hair and took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I expected when I got back, but… I didn’t expect nothing. Bruce was carrying on as usual. Everyone was. And Joker’s just… back in Arkham, ready to escape another day. I died and the only thing that changed was that Damian shipped you off to play with some other kids in California. Except no, he didn’t. Bruce kicked you out! When Damian died, Bruce nearly killed himself in his search for a way to bring him back, to the point that Duke’s gang had to step in to watch the streets and Tim had to step in to watch Bruce. When I died, nothing.”
“Jay -”
“I know I’m not Cassandra ‘Prodigy’ Wayne or Damian ‘Bloodson’ Wayne or Duke ‘Perfect Child’ Thomas or Tim ‘Teenage CEO’ Drake-Wayne, but I thought he’d at least care that I got killed!” Jason snarled, jerking away from Dick to throw his hands in the air before slamming one onto the coffee table, cracking the wood. “I thought he’d at least give a shit about me!”
“Jason -”
He slammed his hand against the table again, and again. “But he doesn’t! Not enough to actually do something about fucking Joker! Not enough to try and bring me back like he did his flesh and blood! He doesn’t care! None of them fucking care about anything but themselves!”
Dick tried to grab his arm, but Jason threw him off.
He turned to the young boy with a glare. “And then you! They just got rid of you! What? Was Bruce so happy to be rid of me he realized he should have cut off the kid acquisitions with Tim? And everyone just agreed with him!”
“Red Wing, please.”
Jason had been taking a step towards Dick, but at his words he spun away. He slammed both his fists into the table with a snarl and it collapsed. He dropped to his knees, breathing heavily.
Dick watched him for a few minutes. Only when Jason stopped shaking and tugging harshly at his hair did he step closer and sit next to his brother. When he wasn’t rebuffed, he pressed their shoulders together. “The pit?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Damian told me how it affects people. Besides, that table gets destroyed so often we start to get antsy if it lasts more than a week,” Dick chuckled and Jason snorted. He nudged his brother gently. “Is this okay?”
“I’d never hurt you, Red Bird,” Jason declared, though a bit of uncertainty leaked into his voice.
Dick set his head on Jason’s shoulder with a frown. “I know. I was asking if you were okay with me touching you.”
The older brother smiled and wrapped his arm around the younger. “I’m always happy to be your pillow.”
“I’m serious, Jay.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “You’re always serious lately.”
“I still know how to have fun,” Dick said. “You just keep catching me in serious situations.”
Jason gave him a disbelieving expression, but before Dick could comment it shifted into a smile. A familiar smile.
That smile promised a lot of fun, but also explosions and weeks of being grounded. It promised lectures from Bruce to Jason about needing to be a better example and from Tim to Dick about how Jason was a bad influence. It promised exasperated yet fond looks from Cass, Babs, and Damian. If Steph was involved, it promised retaliatory pranks when they placed most of the blame on her. If not, then it promised endless complaining for leaving her out. It promised secret smiles from Duke, either because he hadn’t been involved but still thought it was funny or because he had been involved and was thanking them for not ratting him out.
Altogether, that smile promised the best kind of trouble.
“Jay,” Dick started warningly, but Jason just pulled him to his feet.
“Prove it!”
“What?”
“You think you can still have fun, then prove it!” Jason chuckled, grabbing his helmet and towing Dick out of the room. “Let’s go wreck some stuff!”
“Wh-Jay! We can’t -”
“Calm down, we’ll keep it to the bad guys’ stuff so we don’t hurt your delicate sensibilities.”
Dick glanced down at the X on Jason’s suit. “Speaking of which -”
“Nope. That can wait for after Family Weekend. Right now we’re just Red Bird and Red Wing, not Robin and Red X. We can get back to our little cops and robber game when your friends get back.”
Dick knew he should probably argue. Even ignoring the fact Jason had been discussing murder not even half an hour ago, Red X was still a criminal.
But Red X was also a back-from-the-dead Jason and Robin wasn’t allowed to work during Family Weekend.
“Where are we going?” he asked as they stepped out of the elevator onto the residential floor.
“First stop is your room. I left my stuff there since I knew it would be the last place you’d check. One of us should also probably change if we don’t want to raise questions.”
Dick didn’t bother to ask how Jason knew his way around the tower to the point of knowing where his room was. Clearly, he’d been spying on Dick. It was probably something they’d have to talk about later since Dick knew from experience that his teammates would not appreciate it, but it could wait.
“Well you’ve already stolen my clothes once,” Dick pointed out, tugging at Jason’s cape.
Jason rolled his eyes. “If you didn’t want someone to take the suit you should have locked it away better.”
“I put it in a safe!”
“Not a good one.”
Dick slapped his arm. “You were trained by Selina. Your standards are unreasonable.”
“You say that like she didn’t train you too,” Jason snorted then tugged Dick closer so he could wrap his arm around Dick’s shoulder. “I should probably change though. I don’t know how the family will react if they find out we’re hanging out and I’d rather not risk it ruining our weekend. I can take care of them after.”
“Jas-”
“Yep. Sorry. Work talk later. So, Red Bird, you know of any bad guy bases worth ransacking? Or at least an empty factory we can go to town in? I got some new toys I want to try out.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Impulse was tapping her foot in superspeed as she scrolled through her phone.
“And none of you have talked to him since Friday morning?” Wonder Girl asked and she paced across the living area.
“We texted on Saturday, but it was just a quick check-in. He said he was busy, I needed to stop worrying, and he’d see me today,” Nightstar said, not looking up from her book. She seemed for all the world relaxed, but the others had all noticed she hadn’t turned the page in over a half hour.
“There’s still nothing on social media,” Impulse said, refreshing the page. “I found a few mentions just before lunchtime on Friday of someone on the rooftops that could have been him, but that’s it.”
“The same can be said for the news sites,” Virus said from inside the computer. “Robin has not appeared on any of the news sites since our fight with Mother Mae-Eye last week.”
Wonder Girl tried her T-Communicator again and scowled when it wouldn’t connect to Robin’s. “Are you sure he didn’t head over to one of the others’ bases?”
“I had Speedy and Dove on Robin duty so I know he didn’t hit Titans East or North,” Nightstar said.
“And Aquagirl tells Turtle everything so if he’d shown up at Titans South she would have told him and he would have told me so I would know and I don’t so he didn’t,” Impulse said quickly.
Nightstar looked up from her book and squeezed the younger girl’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. We’ll find him. He probably just took off to do some recon and didn’t tell us because he knew we’d yell at him for not taking the weekend off.”
“He’s going to spend the next week locked in a cell if that’s true,” Wonder Girl huffed. “Then he’ll have no choice but to take a break.”
“Robin would just break out,” Virus argued.
“Maybe I should take a run around the city, just in case,” Impulse said, standing up.
“The tracker on Robin’s R-Cycle showed Robin heading out of the city before the tracker was disabled so Impulse likely would not find Robin by running around the city,” Virus pointed out and the girls turned to his computer.
“You didn’t say anything about him leaving town earlier,” Nightstar said.
“Virus did not think the information was relevant. The information doesn’t help the Teen Titans find Robin since the tracker was disabled before any set destination could be determined.”
“Except we had no idea he’d left town until now! When did this happen?”
“Friday afternoon. Robin le-” Virus cut off as an alert came up. “Oh! Someone just accessed the tunnel leading to the garage.”
“Robin?” Nightstar asked, getting to her feet.
“The people in the tunnel used Robin’s codes, but there are two people and both are on foot. The sensors aren't registering Robin’s gear.”
The girls shared a look and ran for the stars, Nightstar calling over her shoulder, “Meet us down there!”
“On the way!”
Impulse ran down the stairs while Nightstar and Wonder Girl flew down the center. They slipped into the garage to find Virus already waiting. The four took defensive positions behind workbenches and toolboxes just as voices began to reach them.
“You owe me a new R-Cycle. And a new communicator. And -”
Impulse perked up at Robin’s voice, but Nightstar waved her quiet before she could react as a second voice answered, “First of all, how was I supposed to know trying to use your fancy walkie-talkie would break it? Who’s stupid design flaw was that?”
“It’s to prevent it from being stolen and used against the Titans.”
“Okay, that’s actually a good idea, but it’s still not my fault. Second, the paint was your idea! Don’t try blaming that on me.”
“You blew up the crates too soon!”
“No, I didn’t! I told you fifteen minutes!”
“You only gave me fourteen!”
“I gave you fifteen!” the unknown voice yelled as two figures walked into the garage.
The first was obviously Robin, though he was dressed more casually than any of the Titans had ever seen him. Gone was the armored suit, replaced with blue jeans and a red hoodie with a bat insignia over the chest. He still wore his domino mask and steel-toed boots, but the latter was speckled with red paint.
The second boy looked around Nightstar’s age. He was tall and broad, but not bulky. He wore a suit similar to Robin’s, but black and plain. A brown leather jacket was thrown over the top with a red bird patch on the shoulder that matched his red domino mask.
The new boy was scowling at Robin, who was scowling back. Even still, both looked completely relaxed and a smirk was tugging at the new boy’s lips.
“Maybe you need a new watch. Or maybe you just forgot how to count. Did you forget eleven was a thing again?”
The new boy jumped at Robin and instantly the two were brawling, throwing punches left and right and trying to pin each other. The fight was clearly well-practiced, in Wonder Girl’s opinion. Not choreographed or restrained, but instead a flurry of movements that showed how the two knew each other’s fighting style enough to both predict most attacks and roll with those they didn’t. Despite just how rough their roughhousing was, she could see neither was actually trying to hurt the other.
The others didn’t quite catch onto that though as all three darted in to break up the fight. Nightstar grabbed the new boy and pinned him against a workbench while Impulse and Virus placed themselves in front of Robin.
“Woah, what? Titans, stand down. Red Wing, don’t hurt her.”
“Don’t hurt her? I’m the one pinned,” the boy gasped dramatically.
“You’re also the one with the souped-up taser,” Robin deadpanned.
The boy smirked and revealed the device in his hand, which crackled with red lightning. He turned it off and tucked it into his jacket as he winked up at Nightstar. “You know, Princess, if you wanted to get all up close and personal, all you had to do was ask.”
Her eyes glowed purple, but Robin grabbed her arm and pulled her away before she could blast the other boy.
“Don’t flirt with my teammates please,” Robin sighed.
“Not my fault you surround yourself with beautiful girls, Kid,” the boy said as he sat up, winking at Wonder Girl this time.
“Who are you?” she demanded, hand falling to her boleadoras.
“What? Don’t recognize me without the x motif and skull mask? I’m hurt.”
“Red X?” Impulse said, glancing between Robin and the boy.
He gave her finger guns while Robin smacked his forehead.
“What is going on?” Virus asked.
“Well, wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome,” Red X said, stuffing his hand in his pockets. “Family Weekend’s been fun, bro. I’ll let you know when I steal a new cycle for you from the old man so you can tell me if I need to add any bells and whistles. Later.”
“You’re not -” Nightstar started, but cut off as Red X dropped something that caused smoke to flood through the garage. “Impulse!”
“He’s already gone,” Robin sighed.
A moment later the ventilation system kicked in and cleared the air to reveal Robin was right.
The four all turned to him and he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Sooooooooo… you spent the weekend with Red X?” Impulse asked.
“It’s a long story.”
“Red X called Robin brother?” Virus said.
“A really long story. The short of it is Red’s just been keeping an eye on me, in his own weird way.”
“He stole your suit,” Wonder Girl said and Robin shrugged.
“So are we just supposed to not go after him if he shows up?” Impulse asked.
“No, this doesn’t change anything about how we treat him in the field.”
Impulse opened her mouth, then closed it and shook her head. “Kid Flash is right. You Gothamites are insane when you get together.”
Robin shrugged again. He grabbed the duffle bag he’d dropped when he and Red X had started fighting and turned to the elevator. “I need to make a call then we can check in with the others.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dick stared down at his new T-Communicator. He should just call Dove. It would make things easier.
“Barbara Gordon here,” a voice said as the call on the phone in his other hand connected.
Dick took a deep breath and let it out. “Hey, Babs.”
“... Dick?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, I-Hey, how -”
“Jason’s going after Bruce.”
“What?”
“He wants to kill him. He wants to kill the whole family, really, but Bruce seems to be his main focus. Damian too, maybe. I don’t know how much trouble he’s been causing so far, but it’s about to get worse.”
“I-You saw Jason?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“I’m fine. He didn’t have any reason to do anything.”
“You said he was trying to kill the whole family.”
Dick’s breath caught in his throat and his hand tightened around the phone. “Yeah, well, clearly I’m not part of that.”
“Di-”
“He also might try to steal a motorcycle, but that might have been a joke. You should probably keep an eye out either way,” Dick added then hung up. He turned his phone off when it immediately started ringing. He tossed it into his lockbox and flopped down on his bed, throwing an arm over his eyes.
A few minutes later someone knocked on his door. He shut the lockbox and knocked it back into its hiding spot with his foot before calling for them to come in.
Nightstar slipped in, but just shut the door behind her and leaned against it. She waited a moment before saying, “X isn’t Tim or Duke.”
“Never said he was.”
“But he implied he was and you didn’t correct him.”
“Tim and Duke aren’t my brothers, Mandy.”
“By your logic, you don’t have any family at all. So why is X going around calling you brothers?”
Dick didn’t respond.
“Why’d you spend Family Weekend with him? Why are you wearing a jacket you normally keep locked away with all the other Batman-related things you pretend don’t exist?”
Dick frowned and dropped his hand to his hoodie. “It’s not Batman’s logo.”
“Sure, Dick, and I -”
“It’s Batkid’s.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Oh. Oh shit.”
“Mandy.”
“You think he’s… him.”
“He is.”
“Dick, Jason died.”
“Like I said, long story. He is back. The others know it too, considering the call I just had with Bab-Barbara.”
“You actually talked to her,” she said softly, coming to sit next to him.
“I talked at her. She didn’t get to say much. I just needed to warn her and the others about something Jay said and it’s too involved in our civilian identities to trust the message with Dove.”
“Sure, or maybe you just wanted to hear her voice.”
Dick glared up at her. “I want to hear all of their voices, is that what you want me to say? You know I’m not afraid to admit I miss them, it’s just not going to change anything.”
“Admitting it is the first step,” she shot back. “Now do something about it.”
“They don’t want me, Mandy. I’m not going to go crawling back there just to get shunted back into juvie!”
“You don’t know that’s what will happen.”
“Yes, I do!”
She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up so they were eye to eye. “Aren’t you the one who pushed me to reconnect with my mom?”
“That’s different and you know it,” he said, pushing her hands off.
“Why?”
“She’s your mom.”
“And they’re your family.”
“No, they’re not!”
“Di-”
He stood up. “They know where I am! I’m not trying to hide! I didn’t even change my codename! If any of them wanted to talk to me, Babs could easily contact me! At the very least, she or Steph could have Holly give me the message! Or Damian could ask Jon to pass the message to Eliza and she could give it to me! And yet that call is the only time I’ve heard from any of them since the Fight! Why do you think that is?”
“Because you’re terrible at dealing with emotions when they’re your own and the rest of your family is the same or worse,” she deadpanned.
“Just drop it.”
She sighed and got up to leave. She paused before opening the door. “You’re going to have to deal with this one of these days. Probably sooner than you think if you’re going to keep talking to Jason.”
“Doubtful. He isn’t exactly sitting down for tea with the Bats either right now.”
She shook her head and left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A little explanation of characters mentioned
Teen Titans:
Robin - Richard "Dick" Grayson: Foster son of Damian Wayne (15yo)
Virus - Galv-10 "Galvio" of Gex (~16yo in comparison to human development)
Nightstar - Ma’andkori "Mandy" Grace: Daughter of Kory and Artemis Grace (17yo)
Impulse - Iris "Irey" West: Daughter of Wally West, Twin of Jai (15yo)
Wonder Girl - Yara Flor: Daughter of an Amazon and Brazilian God (16yo)
Other Titans:
Turtle - Jai West: Son of Wally West, Twin of Irey (15yo)
Speedy - Dinah "Di" Harper: Second Daughter of Roy Harper (16yo)
Dove - Holly Hall: Daughter of Hank and Dawn Hall (14yo)
Aquagirl - Mareena: Daughter of Kaldur'ahm (14yo)
Supergirl - Eliza Zor-El/Eliza Lutessa Luthor: Clone of Kara and Lena Luthor (13yo)
Bats:
Batman - Bruce Wayne (49yo)
Catwoman - Selina Kyle-Wayne (50yo)
Oracle - Barbara Gordon (41yo)
Orphan - Cassandra "Cass" Wayne: Eldest Child/Only Daughter of Bruce Wayne (36yo)
Flamebird - Damian Wayne: Oldest Son of Bruce Wayne (26yo)
Nightwing - Jon-El/Jonathan "Jon" Samuel Kent: Partner of Flamebird (26)yo
Signal - Duke Thomas: Second Son of Bruce Wayne (23yo)
Black Bat - Timothy "Tim" Drake-Wayne: Third Son of Bruce Wayne (22yo)
Batgirl - Stephanie Brown (21yo)
Red X - Jason Peter Todd-Wayne: Fourth Son of Bruce Wayne (17yo)
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Palette of Emotions - Artist! Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 27- Dreams Come True

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?
Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)
Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU
Length: approx. 5k words
Chapter 27 - Dreams Come True
Kim Taehyung had only visited the Korean National University of Arts once. He was 18, hair rebelliously dyed a light coffee brown, clinging to Jimin’s arm as if he was a koala. The excitement was clear on the teen’s face as they strolled across campus, Taehyung commenting on every work of art on display, every building, everything that he came across. It was glorious, the idea of coming to that school back then seemed like nothing short of a dream, one that felt just a little closer to the realm of reality with every step he took onto the campus. Just thinking about it had Taehyung brimming with excitement.
But that was almost 7 years ago, and Taehyung had never gotten into the school, despite sending in even more than what the application process required. Despite the defeat he felt in that moment, he knew one day the opportunity would come back full circle, and as he packed his weekend bag, that burning sense of opportunity rushed into his lungs as if it were meant to be air.
“You excited?” Jimin asked Taehyung curiously, watching his friend zip up his bag and toss it by the door. His friend looked up, offering a boxy grin as he turned towards the closet one last time.
“Of course! I’ve only dreamed of something like this for my entire life!”
“You said that about the Ilsan Art Festival too. And about every other art show I’ve gotten you in.” The boys laughed a bit.
“Well, this one takes the cake, and will continue to take the cake for as long as I live and breathe on this earth.” Jimin watched as Taehyung slipped past him, heading into the living room. “I need to finish packing my works.”
“Do you know what you’re bringing?”
“I have a few ideas, but there’s one I know I’m bringing for sure.” Jimin watched Taehyung walk towards a large canvas covered by a blue tarp. Curiosity piqued him, and he walked over towards his friend. Taehyung turned to Jimin, immediately catching the curious look in his eye, and he grinned. “Oh, you want to see?” he asked.
“No, I just find the blue tarp covering it to be truly mesmerizing.” Taehyung laughed a bit at his friend’s sarcastic remark, but instead of revealing the work, he simply walked it towards the door, setting it down against the wall. “I can’t see?”
“I’m revealing it at the art show. So no, you can’t see until we get there.” Jimin pouted, crossing his arms. That didn’t deter Taehyung though, and he stuck his hands into his pockets. “Jimin, don’t look at me like that.”
“All I do to get you here, and I can’t see what could be your magnum opus ahead of time?” Taehyung huffed, shaking his head. “If I was pretty, you’d let me see.”
“Jimin, you’re very pretty.” The boys had to laugh as Taehyung patted his friend’s shoulder.
“…Okay, thank you.” Jimin grinned. “Let’s get some of this stuff downstairs. I rented a little trailer for us to fit all your stuff safely.” Taehyung nodded, and with that squared away, he scooped up his painting and quickly carried it downstairs. Presenting this work at that art show, the idea that this was no longer a distant dream, but instead a reality, Taehyung found himself heading to the elevator with a spring in his step.
--------------------------------------------------------
Jung Hoseok was conflicted as he sat across from you at your dining room table. You both were cutting up some new activities for the students this upcoming week, as you were continuing to talk about colors. The idea you had for a poster had you beaming from the store all the way back home; a large rainbow, each color-filled not just with colored pencil, but also with drawings of different objects represented by each respective color. Red had apples, hearts, firetrucks, yellow had bananas, blue had the ocean and bluebirds, the list went on. The background was not left as white either. Anything on the picture was colored in, and colors outside the rainbow were added as well. Trees showcased the brown color, pink sprinkled along the light grass as variously shaped flowers. You were hunched over the table, hair pulled back tight as to not get in your eyes. Your eyes. Hoseok watched as your eyes fixated on the poster sprawled out before you. What was once a blank white canvas with limitless possibilities has now become an eye-pleasing set of various colors and words, just enough for the preschool children to enjoy looking at, as well as understand. Your eyes darted back and forth on the paper, before lifting your head in order to get a higher-level view. When you looked up, you saw Hoseok looking at you.
“Everything okay?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah.” He smiled. His eyes fell back to his work, and he continued cutting up some of the worksheets and paper, stacking them into individual piles. A moment of silence crossed between you both again, until Hoseok decided to speak up once again. “Taehyung’s going to that weekend art show today, right?”
“Oh yeah. I meant to text him good luck in the workgroup chat.” You stated. “He’s probably preparing to head out so I’ll send it after I finish this; won’t expect a response for a while.”
“Yeah,” Hoseok said simply. When he looked back up at you, you had already gotten back to work, coloring in the green section of the rainbow, showing grapes, grass, frogs, and anything else the both of you decided would make quick and familiar connections with the students. “Taehyung told me he wanted to go to that university when he was younger, so he must be pretty excited.”
“Oh?” you hummed. “That’s awesome. I think that’s exactly what he needs to get his career going.”
“Do you think he’ll stay at the school if his career takes off?” When Hoseok asked that question, your hand immediately stopped on the poster, the tip of the green-colored pencil resting firmly against the paper. You hadn’t thought about that yet. With every question swimming aimlessly in your mind, that was one you didn’t allow yourself to get to yet. Would he be able to stay? No, there’s a better question that should be asked right now.
Would he want to stay?
“Well…” you began, sitting back in your chair. “He only has this job to make money while he tries to really start his career, so…”
“You don’t think so?”
You shook your head. “I don’t know…”
“…Have you made your decision yet?” Hoseok said. You looked up at him. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“I didn’t consider the idea that Taehyung possibly wouldn’t be in the area. I never factored in long-distance relationships…” Hoseok nodded.
“Well, remember that I don’t intend to leave,” Hoseok said simply. Even though he shot you a playful grin, you seemed less than amused. “What? Don’t look so upset, it hurts my feelings.”
“You’re not helping me at all by making comments like that, Hoseok, and you damn well know it.” Hoseok hummed, his head dropping in defeat as he continued to work. Setting the colored pencil in your hand down, you sighed. “He and I kissed when I went over to check on him.” You admitted. Hoseok’s hands froze, and he looked up. “After his concussion…”
“Oh?” He hummed.
“Mhm. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did. But after it happened, I…couldn’t stop thinking about it. I get more nervous whenever I see him now, the butterflies in my stomach won’t stop. I feel like I’m turning red just talking about it now.”
“You are.” Hoseok smiled.
You covered your cheeks, unable to control the breathy laugh in your chest. “I thought about it so much afterward, I even called Bong-Cha to talk to her about it. He told me he wanted to kiss me and…I told him yes.” Hoseok blinked, eyes focused solely on you as you continued to talk. “I didn’t even think of Namjoon or anything else at that moment. I just…really wanted him to do it.”
As Hoseok listened to you speak, he felt his heartbreak in two. He knew the day would come where you made a decision, and he felt pained to know he lost the race to your heart. Though a part of him knew the outcome, another part of him was hoping it would all be a dream, and somehow, he would be the one to cross the finish line. But how could you win a race you were never apart of, to begin with? When he realized he had yet to speak up in response to your confession, he coughed into his hand, leaning forward to rest his hands out on the table, palms open, and motioned towards your own. You glanced at him but gently placed your hands into his for a moment. Hoseok squeezed your hands tightly in his own, lifting them and bit and planting a small kiss on your knuckles. You smiled a bit, watching as Hoseok looked up at you, and an ever-so welcoming heart-shaped grin flashed onto his face.
“It seems like you’ve made a decision, hm?”
----------------------------------------------------------
Taehyung and Jimin had finished setting up and unpacking in the hotel they had gotten for the weekend, a five-minute walk from the campus. As Taehyung finished unpacking, he walked towards the window, opening the curtains and staring out into the distance, eyes beaming as he stared out at the view. The view from the campus must be just as beautiful. He thought to himself as he watched people below pass by, the sounds of city-life filling his ears. He was so excited, knowing in less than 24 hours, he was going to be setting up his art at one of the most prestigious art colleges in South Korea. He could barely wait, he wanted to run and do it right away! When he turned around, Jimin was sitting at the desk in the room, shuffling through papers most likely needed for his assignment as an ambassador of the company.
“Tae, post a picture on Instagram saying you’re unpacked and ready. Get everyone excited and make sure to tag the college.” Jimin hummed, his eyes not even once looking up from the papers stacked before him. Taehyung walked past his friend, messing up his hair and earning a frustrating groan from his manager.
“I’ll do you one better,” Taehyung said. Once he got his phone from the bedside table, Taehyung quickly opened the video camera up, pointing it in his direction. He spun around the room, stopping when Jimin was in the frame. “Say hi, Jimin.” He cooed. Jimin finally looked up, it took a moment to adjust to what Taehyung was doing, but he was quick to adapt, waving at the camera. “We’re getting ready for the art show tomorrow. Hope to see you there~.” Taehyung was quick to flash a peace sign, and a grin to the camera before shutting it off. He then shuffled towards the artwork he had stacked by the closet, snapping a picture of the one still covered by the blue tarp. He snapped a photo of the scenery out on the balcony, and one of him holding up his official badge to get into the show the next day. With these photography skills practically on fire, Taehyung was ready to post. He plopped himself down on the bed, humming to himself as he set everything up on his Instagram, the photo dump showing every aspect of his excitement. “Now, for a caption.” He hummed to himself, pursing his lips. It had to be good!
So excited for my work to be shown at @KoreanNUArts this weekend. I’m hoping to see some people there! One of my newest works is going to be shown there! O.O
“Done.” Taehyung grinned, tossing his phone beside him on the bed. He lied back, his badge still in his hands as he held it up by the lanyard. It wasn’t anything amazing to look at, just a white card with his name and the campus logo on it hanging off a campus lanyard. However, to him, it was one of the best things I have ever seen. “I still feel like I’m dreaming.” He admitted.
“Have you tried pinching yourself?” Jimin asked curiously.
“Several times, and now I’m bruising on my arm in several places.” Both of them laughed. “I can’t wait to tell everyone back home how it goes.”
“I’m sure they’re excited for you.” Taehyung sat up, pulling his legs close to his chest and resting his chin on his knees.
“You think this is it?” he asked curiously. Jimin, curious as to what his friend meant about that, turned his head to look at him. “The entire drive here, and the entire time we were unpacking and stuff, I kept thinking something crazy is going to happen.”
“Maybe it will. This is a big deal.” Jimin smiled. “I wanted the guy to look at your work, I never thought he would invite you to participate in the art show so quickly. That itself is a sign of good luck.” Taehyung smiled, nodding his head in agreement with his friend. “How about we rest a bit then go find something to eat for lunch? I’m starving.” Tae nodded his head in agreement, flopping himself back on the bed. He grabbed his phone, looking at the flood of Instagram notifications he had already started to receive. Quickly, he swiped through a few to see what they were.
So happy for Oppa! Wish I could go!
I know what school I’m applying for if handsome Tae-Oppa is there uwu.
You get even more handsome every post. Is the mystery artwork you? <3
Taehyung hummed, closing the app down after giving a few comments like, and responding to others with a smiley face or a heart. Just as he was about to set his phone down and rest, his phone vibrated one more time, and the Instagram notification came up once again. When he took a good look at it, he felt his heartbeat just as a bit faster when your username was attached to the comment.
Good luck at the show! You’ll do great! Also, beautiful view over there 😊
Taehyung sat up, looking at the post for a moment in silence. For a moment, his body was at war with itself. His heart knew exactly what he wanted to say in response, a cool response that would hopefully have your heart thumping on the other end of the line: It’s nice, but definitely not the prettiest view I’ve ever seen 😉. However, his logical brain sent a thought through his mind: Do you really think that’s appropriate to say right now? Especially on a public platform like this?
Taehyung pursed his lips in annoyance, but ultimately, knew his brain was right. Regardless of the absolute brilliant response he had, he knew it could lead to bad things. Still wanting to reply, he simply sent her the response: It’s even better in person, you should come to see one day! :D and tossed his phone on the bedside table, burying his head under his pillow.
Jimin glanced over at his friend shuffled constantly under the covers. “…You had a really good pick-up line for her, didn’t you?” Taehyung’s eyes poked out from under his pillow, watching as his friend lifted up his phone, and pointed to the comments of the post, your comment in particular. Taehyung groaned, hiding his face as if it would also hide his shame, but it didn’t, and Jimin had to laugh. “But if it’s any consolation, whatever you were going to say most likely would have worked.”
“Thanks.” He said softly. After a moment of silence, Taehyung added. “I don’t know what she’s thinking after she came to my house…but I hope she makes a decision soon. I want to at least know. It’s killing me inside to wait, but I don’t want to push her.”
“Well based on what you’ve told me between you two, it’ll only be a matter of time. For now, get some rest, and let’s focus on this show tomorrow.” Taehyung nodded, nestling his head deeper into the pillow in hopes it would help him fall asleep.
It didn’t.
--------------------------------------------------------
Before Taehyung knew it, Jimin was waking him up bright and early the next morning, shouting that they were going to be late if he didn’t hurry up and get dressed. Taehyung practically flew out of bed when he remembered where he was, rushing into the shower as he shouted behind him: “Call for room service! I’ll pay!” to a snickering Jimin. The days had turned to hours, the hours to minutes, and if Taehyung didn’t scarf down his breakfast when it arrived, those minutes would turn into fleeting seconds before they had to leave. Any moment now, he was going to be up in the biggest art college in the country, something he never thought he would get to do. It filled him with excitement, and he practically skipped out of the shower and got dressed.
“You know we won’t be late now that you’re up, right?” Jimin asked. He was sitting on his bed, watching as Taehyung ran back and forth, tossing his pictures onto the cart he was using to move them around.
“Well, you got me hyped up. You asked for this, you know.” Taehyung said. With the final painting sat securely on the cart, Taehyung hummed, satisfied. “It’s all ready.”
“Good. Now eat. It’s getting cold.” Jimin motioned to the food room service had brought, placed on the desk where it waited patiently to be eaten by the artist. He slid into the seat, nodded his head, and quickly began to chow down. Whether it was because he was rushing, or because he was starving, neither Jimin nor Taehyung knew, but Jimin only chuckled in amusement as he finished up his own meal.
Before the duo knew it, they were headed down the block. Then, they were already inside, Jimin signing the duo in and pinning their name tags onto their jackets. He patted Taehyungs as it rested on his chest, and blurted out a remark along the lines of “So official”.
Before Taehyung knew it, Taehyung was being led to his spot, a blank wall that was right in the middle of the floor. It was only half of the wall that he had access to, the other half designated to a student. However, he found himself beaming regardless as he began setting up paintings. As he did, he overheard Jimin chatting to someone, most likely about his job. When Taehyung overheard the words: “We’re very grateful to have this opportunity. We’ll work hard.” Slip out of Jimin’s mouth, it reminded him he only got this opportunity due to Jimin, due to his job, due to his ambition.
Would I still have gotten this spot if I were on my own? He thought. Doubt it.
“Don’t start doubting yourself now,” Jimin said. Taehyung looked over and saw Jimin fixing his blazer, grinning kindly at his friend. “I see those ‘My art isn’t good enough for this’ eyes. Get your smile on. We wouldn’t have gotten such a good opportunity for the company if it wasn’t for your art.”
“…Yeah?” Taehyung asked.
“Yeah! If I didn’t have your art and your status as a bargaining chip, we would have had to think of another way to get him to agree so quickly. Mr. Kim and I owe you our lives.”
“The way you phrased that sound very, very manipulative in your case.” He said, and Jimin laughed a bit. Taehyung scooped up his phone, seeing the surge of support coming in through his social media from the fans. Some comments praised his hard work, others praised his face in the video of him spinning around in the hotel room, but instead of rolling his eyes at those, each and every comment made his heart skip a bit. He turned back to the final painting left on the cart, the one he had been waiting to showcase until the very last minute. Lifting it up, he set the tarp aside and quickly placed it on the wall. Jimin looked up, running a hand through his hair as he examined the painting for the first time, only moments before everyone else.
“Wow.” Jimin grinned. Taehyung turned to his friend, seeing the sparkle of intrigue in his eyes. A small smirk formed on his face, and he nodded.
“I know, right?”
It wasn’t long before the doors opened to the public and people began coming in.
Taehyung watched as Jimin spoke with college students and other individuals who passed by, a warm smile on his face as girls and boys alike swarmed him. They may have no interest in a future with the company, but they had plenty of interest in the two handsome men before them. Taehyung shuffled around, scanning every person that passed by. He was kind of nervous. No, scratch that, he was incredibly nervous, the most nervous he had ever been. He didn’t need to necessarily talk people into buying anything today, it was only for show, to get his name out there and show even more people his art. Despite this, each person that glanced his way, he wanted to go up to and start chatting up.
I have to keep calm. Taehyung thought to himself. He put his hands in his pockets, walking slightly deeper into the room in hopes to get a better look at the artwork of those around him. Paintings decorated each white wall, each one like a blank canvas in its own way, allowing for the paintings to decorate them in order to tell a story. Small podiums held any statues or pottery made, placed directly onto the floor in order to allow people to get a 360 degree look at each one, to admire all of its features in any angle they chose to. Taehyung turned on his heel, staring up at a large painting, one that commanded the presence of anyone that turned in its direction. It looked to be about two times the size of Taehyung’s largest painting and decorated with just as many colors if not more. Taehyung’s eyes darted every which way, from one corner of the painting to another, trying to take in. Each section of colors told a different story, slowly blending into one another until they met in the middle, forming a cohesive story. It was truly a sight to behold, and Taehyung felt his heart swell just by looking at it. It was then he truly knew he was at one of the top schools for the arts in Korea. When he turned back around, hoping to call Jimin over for a moment in order to show him what he had found, something, in particular, had caught his eye. Jimin, once again, was chatting with someone at his little booth. This time, however, it was not a couple of typical college students, but instead a middle-aged couple, the woman turned towards Taehyung’s paintings while Jimin spoke to the man. Taehyung stepped a bit closer, watching as Jimin motioned to the centerpiece, Taehyung’s newest work of art. Taehyung, now fully invested, headed over to the man, pulling his hands out of his pockets. Jimin caught sight of his friend approaching and grinned.
“Oh, there he is! Taehyung, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Jimin motioned to the older man, who was smiling. “This is Mr. Oh Jihoon and his wife.”
“Pleasure to meet you, at last, Mr. Kim.” The man beamed, reaching out to take Taehyung’s hand. The boy quickly took it, giving him a handshake while also nodding his head.
“Yes of course.”
“I saw you were walking around. Did you enjoy what you saw?”
“Very much, yes. That painting over there had just caught my attention.” Taehyung motioned to the painting on the wall that had just captured his full attention for a solid 2 and a half minutes, and he heard Jihoon laugh.
“I’m not surprised. That was made by one of our seniors, Miss. Kang Areum. She’s very talented, remind me to introduce you before the day ends.” Taehyung nodded. “However, I came to make sure I introduced myself, and I wanted to see what I agreed to include in the art show in person. I wanted to make sure they were as captivating in real life as they were on Mr. Park’s slideshow.”
A sheepish smile crept on Taehyung’s face, and he nodded. “Thank you very much. I appreciate the opportunity, Mr. Oh.” Jihoon motioned to the paintings one more time, pointing to one in particular; Taehyung’s newest work. It was a simple, minimalistic picture, the dark silhouette of a young woman from the chest up with a high ponytail that cascaded freely down her back, but the small details of hair strands sticking out making it much clearer where the hair begins and ends. The silhouette was colored black, with the only visible feature being a flashing white smile shape on the face portion. The only other noticeable features of the paintings were words. Words of encouragement decorated the background in black, and if they overlapped onto the silhouette, they transformed into white words. The words were beautifully written with a steady hand and flowed eloquently from one color to the next.
“I didn’t see this picture in the presentation,” Jihoon admitted.
“It’s a new one. I managed to finish it just in time for this and so I thought I could reveal it here.” Jihoon smiled, nodding once again as he turned to his wife, who looked up at the picture. Taehyung watched her for a moment, that same spark that twinkled in Jimin’s eyes only a few hours earlier just as apparent now, if not more so. “My wife has taken quite a liking to it.” Taehyung watched the older woman walk towards him, gently taking hold of his hands and smiling.
“I think that is such a cute painting. It looks like it was truly made with love.” Taehyung’s ear heated up for a moment, and he only chuckled shyly. “I knew it. Whoever inspired that painting is a very lucky individual.”
“Thank you…” Taehyung said softly. He watched Jihoon gently put a hand on his wife’s shoulder.
“Why don’t you go look at the painting Taehyung said caught his eye over there?” he hummed, pointing down towards the other side of the room. “I’ll meet up with you in a few minutes, I need to talk to these two men.” Jimin and Taehyung shared a glance, watched as the woman said her goodbyes, and headed down the hall to another part of the show. When she was far enough away, Jihoon turned back to Taehyung, and only for a moment, he noticed a serious gleam in the man’s eye, one that sent a shiver down the young artist’s spine. “I have a few questions for you.”
Taehyung gulped. “Yessir.”
“Do you take commissions?” Taehyung blinked. “My wife really seems to like this new painting for yours, but it is clear that a specific woman inspired this one. It wouldn’t be right of me to buy it for my wife. So, would it be possible for us to communicate and work out a deal for you to commission one for my wife as a surprise gift?” Taehyungs hands slipped behind his back, Jimin quickly noticing but keeping his gaze as subtle as he could. From the corner of his eye, he saw Taehyung’s hands form fists behind his back, and it looked like they were trembling. “We don’t need to discuss prices just yet; you find out what you need to do and throw a price at me. Is that something you’d be able to do?”
“…Yes,” Taehyung said simply. “I would be honored to do something like that. Are you sure my work will suffice as a gift for someone as important as your wife?” Jihoon grinned, immediately letting out a belly laugh that attracted the attention of those around him.
“My wife said it herself, she really liked that painting. When we walked past, she tugged my arm and pointed right at it. I was on my way to talk to one of the planners of this event until she caused that detour. So yes, I’m absolutely sure.”
“…I see. Then, yes. I’d love to.” Jihoon smiled, patting Taehyung’s shoulder as he handed the man his business card. Taehyung glanced at Jimin, who quickly extended a hand to take the card since Taehyung’s clammy, shaking hands were still currently indisposed.
“Thank you, Mr. Oh.” Jimin grinned.
“Of course! Call me in the next day or two, name your price and I’ll send over anything you need.” The boys nodded. “Well, I need to go now. I see my wife eyeing up a few other works as well. Gentlemen.” The boys nodded, bowing slightly as they watched Jihoon stroll away, hands in his pockets. Taehyung stood there for a moment, Jimin examining the business card in his hands as silence fell over them. When he turned to Taehyung, he gently passed the card to his friend.
“Taehyung? You okay?” he said. Taehyung took the card gently into his hands, staring at the name of the man he just spoke to, his phone number, and his business email. Taking a deep breaths, Taehyung gently sank down onto the chair behind Jimin’s little booth, allowing every muscle in his body to finally relax. Jimin couldn’t help but smile, watching as Taehyung stared at this card intensely, eyes beaming. He felt this was finally his moment, finally, he was the one given the opportunity he damn well deserved.
Finally, he was the one with a sparkle in his eyes.
Return to Masterlist
Next / Previous
#bts#bts fanfiction#bts x reader#reader insert#kim namjoon#rm#namjoon#kim seokjin#seokjin#jin#min yoongi#yoongi#suga#jung hoseok#hoseok#jhope#park jimin#jimin#kim taehyung#taehyung#v#jeon jungkook#jungkook#taehyung x reader#a palette of emotions ff
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
eating healthy on a student budget without sacrificing flavor
photo credit: e-ziara
You might be in a tight spot as a student, stuck between meeting the basic requirements of survival and completing your assignments. And by basic requirements I mean getting sleep… some nights. And eating healthy meals on a regular basis. Or just eating healthy meals. Or just eating. Yeah, being a student is rough. But it doesn’t mean you can just put your poor body through the ringer and live off of fast-food, takeout, and cup noodles for every meal.
No disrespect to ramen, you come in clutch on finals week
I digress. Here are some tips and pointers for meal planning, grocery shopping, and how to clean out your leftover produce!
Meal Planning
Inarguably, the biggest hurdles to jump when it comes to healthy eating while being a student are time and energy. This is how we can work around it:
Come up with a list of foods that you like that are 1) healthy and 2) you can make or learn to make.
Depending on your income, if you live alone or with others, and how much you eat, figure out how often you will need a grocery run. Start adding those foods to your grocery list.
Figuring out how often you will need to go on a grocery run will take a few runs, but will save you money in the long run because you won’t be overbuying food, especially fresh produce that might go bad and have to be tossed.
Grocery Shopping
When buying fruits and vegetables, the rainbow is your friend.
Spices will SAVE YOUR TASTE BUDS.
Invest in good quality food containers.
Be smart with your money, the majority of your shopping cart should be healthy foods and drinks with a minority of your favorite snacks and junk foods.
Brightly colored foods are often full of nutrients and healthy fats, sugars, the works. Follow ROYGBV to maximize the benefits of your shopping cart. When going by color, find the richest of fruits and vegetables. Don’t go for weird looking or feeling red bell peppers, soft oranges, green bananas, brown spinach, white blueberries or mushy blackberries.
If you’re the type of person who absolutely NEEDS some type of flavor (I’m a monster who is fine with eating certain foods as they are), don’t compromise your taste buds and body with fast food just because it’s yummier. Take the time to figure out what spices you like and experiment with them. Buy a few or a bunch, most common spices are relatively cheap. Start off with your basic salt and pepper and go from there.
Here’s a great list with tips on which spices to buy, how much, and how to store them! The Essential Pantry Spices List
Leftovers
For getting rid of any excess veggies or meats, I go for bibimbap. A Korean dish characterized by mixing it up, it’s a healthy way to clean out your fridge of all those last bits of vegetables from all the other good stuff you’ve been cooking. My Korean Kitchen has a great recipe that’s easy to follow here: Bibimbap (Korean Mixed Rice with Meat and Assorted Vegetables)
1 note
·
View note
Note
Please continue the fic about Peter being a PI.
Ah, this is an old one.
Juno is the Thief and Peter is the Detective | Part 2 | Part 3
When Juno’s vision comes back into focus, he finds himself staring at what can only be the subject of a still life arranged on the bedside table. Kiwis, dragon fruit, a bunch of bananas, and a glass of orange juice, a cup of yogurt.
And yes, okay, he’s famished. Even discounting the time he’s spent unconscious, it’s been too long since he last ate. But he’s not an idiot about it.
The idiot detective left him a spoon and knife as part of the table setting. And sure, it’s just a butter knife, but he’s done plenty of damage with less than that. He stashes the knife at his thigh and then starts scarfing down what he’s been given.
He suspected the detective might be listening in on him, and he was right. As soon as he starts making noise, the door opens, and there he is: tall and lean and way too pretty to be on that side of the law.
“Oh good,” he says, flashing that sharp-toothed smile. “You’re awake.”
Juno grunts. He doesn’t owe the detective a reply.
“Are you enjoying your breakfast?”
“Is that what this is supposed to be?”
And dammit, Juno can see the suave retort on the detective’s lips, just itching to come out, and he can only guess at which one it’s gonna be. Maybe something about how Juno didn’t seem to mind when Rose was hand-feeding him strawberries. Maybe a quip about the last time Rose made him breakfast. Maybe an allusion to other ways entirely to keep his mouth full. He doesn’t even have to say it out loud for Juno to feel the sting.
And maybe something shows on Juno’s face, because the detective’s expression falters.
“I didn’t know when you’d wake up,” he says at last. “I wanted to leave you something that would keep.”
Juno grunts again. He can’t think of anything else to do.
If he wasn’t still pissed, he might be grateful that the detective changes the subject. He opens a drawer in the bedside table. “I had Rita get you some clean clothes. Ones that haven’t been dredged through the sewer.”
“Nothing wrong with my clothes,” Juno mutters, just because he’s feeling petty.
“They were a biohazard. I tried to launder them, but the landlord threatened to evict me if I brought them within a hundred yards of the washing machine.”
Juno sits upright fast enough to make the medical tape pull at his arm. “Your landlord knows I’m here?”
“That was a joke.” The detective raises his hands to calm him. “No need to get upset.”
“Oh really?” Juno demands. “You sure about that? Because last time I checked, you stalked me, you kidnapped me, you took my clothes off, you stuck me full of needles–”
“To save your life,” the detective says. “They would have done the same for you at Hyperion General.”
“You think they would have sold me a lie to fuck me for three days straight at Hyperion General?”
“Usually that depends on your insurance provider.”
“Shut up,” Juno mutters, because he’s not playing this game. He’s not gonna banter with the detective like they’re partners. He’s not gonna fall for that. Not again.
“Juno,” the detective says again, his voice softer. “I do want you to know–”
“Which part of shut up don’t you understand?” Juno snaps. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Yes. Well.” The detective nods. “Do let me know how the clothes fit. I can find you something else if those don’t work.”
Juno tries not to hate himself as he watches him leave.
-------------
Peter isn’t surprised when he finds his bed empty and Juno gone. He’s had a few days to recover, and at least he’s taken the bottle of antibiotics with him.
It might not even be too much to hope for that he stays out of the sewers from now on.
Still, he keeps his subscription to Houndwatch active. It’s on the show, weeks later, that he learns of Juno’s latest escapade. The hosts are in the middle of memorializing their beloved Hellhound when they’re interrupted by a special bulletin: the Hellhound has struck again. His latest victim is an elderly collector who murdered anyone who wouldn’t sell her their Ancient Martian artifacts.
Peter can’t help but feel a twinge of approval when he hears it. He’s always felt acute distaste for people like her– wealthier than the gods themselves, and they’ll never be satisfied. Mag would be proud.
--------------
“Let me see if I understand you correctly,” Peter tells the police captain. “You want me to be your plus-one?”
Captain Khan’s mustache bristles irritably. “That’s what I said, isn’t it? Do you have honey in your ears or something? Now are you comin’ or not?”
“Not that I’m not flattered, but…” Peter picks his words carefully. I was sure you were monogamous hardly seems like the right way to put it. “I’m more a fan of romance than memoir.”
“It isn’t about the stupid book,” Khan grumbles. “I got a good look at the guest list, and Ingrid Lake ain’t the only criminal there. The whole party’s gonna be a big ol’ what’s what of the nastiest people this city’s got to offer. There aren’t enough handcuffs in the precinct for me to arrest them all.”
“Remind me, captain, are you trying to tempt me to go or warn me off? Because I’m afraid you’re sending some mixed signals. at the moment.”
“Maybe let me finish a sentence and I’ll get to that.” The captain scowls like a put-upon school teacher. “I’m gonna be there as Mister Public Relations, bein’ the face of the HCPD for all the cameras. That means that I can’t just go around questioning a bunch of known criminals. But the press don’t know a thing about you. Heck, a few of the guys at the precinct are taking bets that your face doesn’t show up on film.”
“You don’t say.” Honestly, he’s flattered. He’s put a lot of effort into making sure he’s never caught on camera. “So you want me to conduct your interviews for you.”
“Just keep an eye out. With that many shady characters, you know something big is gonna blow up. And I gotta be francine with you– at least half my precinct is on the take from at least one of those mudbags. I can’t trust ‘em. You, though.” He puts a big hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I don’t always get you, Glass, but I know what you’re about.”
Peter would be genuinely touched right now if there wasn’t something unsettling about this moment. He should be used to it by now; in all the strangest ways, Khan reminds him of Mag. He always feels just a little off balance when he’s around him, at once desperate to make him proud and waiting for the moment when he’s betrayed.
As always, he doesn’t let his unease show. “Well, you’re in luck. I just so happen to have the evening free.”
---------------
Juno never should have taken this job.
Vicky said it was gonna be easy. Just find the weasel who keeps stealing her delivery vans, drag them back to her club, and he gets another month rent-free in her safehouse. Nobody ever said anything about homicidal ex-girlfriends or endless agonizing about how the wife better not hear about this.
And nobody ever said anything about Captain Khan’s new assistant.
If this is another disguise, it’s working: nobody with eyes would take Rose for a private eye the way he’s dressed, all sleek and stunning in a tailored suit that he’ll probably have to peel off himself by the end of the night. Even if Juno wanted to ignore him, the detective is practically everywhere, slinking around between writers and white-collar criminals, hanging off the arms of arsonists, clinking champagne flutes with the mayor themself. God, does he have to flirt with all of them?
But of all the people here, Rose is the closest thing that Juno has to an ally. And if he’s going to get Vicky out of this party alive, then he’s going to need some help.
For most of the night he’s been slinking around the walls, looking for anything else he could possibly work with. Now he steps out of the shadows, positioning himself so that he’s directly in Rose’s line of sight the next time he turns.
It’s like something out of a goddamn movie. Their eyes meet across the crowded ballroom. Time seems to crystalize around them as the thief’s lips part to form words that he doesn’t say. Juno wants to...
It doesn’t matter what Juno wants. He needs Rose to get him out of this mess.
He jerks his head to one side, indicating the dark alcove by the locked back door. Rose gives a slight nod and makes his excuses to the mobsters around him.
Juno listens for the clack of Rose’s heels on the hardwood floor, but he’s still startled when that soft voice croons from behind him. “I don’t suppose I should be surprised to find you here.”
He’s leaning over Juno, even taller in those dizzying heels, looming like some kind of godly statue brought to life. The sight of him leaves Juno’s mouth dry, but it only makes his voice more gruff.
“Are you still in the same line of work as the last time I saw you?”
“For the most part,” Rose says lightly. “Though I’m afraid I’m not much of a nurse anymore.”
“Then I’ve got a tip for you to pass along to your buddy with the mustache.”
He leans in, close enough that Juno can smell that damn cologne.
“Ingrid Lake is planning a murder-suicide. Tonight. Midnight.”
“Do you have any evidence?”
Juno bristles. “You can’t be serious. You really don’t believe me?”
“I do,” Rose says gently. “But the dear captain will be more difficult to convince. And he can’t make any arrests without at least some kind of probable cause.”
“Since when?” Juno nearly snarls, but he manages to get his voice under control again.
“I won’t deny that it’s inconvenient,” Rose says. “But that’s just one of the rules you have to follow when you work with him. Do you have anything, Juno? Anything at all?”
Even though he towers over Juno, there’s something about the sincerity in his eyes that makes him look small and fragile. Juno knows not to let him get under his skin again, but he can’t help it.
“The art,” he says. “The stuff on the walls. It’s all stolen. Smuggled goods from the Outer Rim. Most of it’s obscure enough that you’d have a hard time tracing it, but--”
“But it’s something I can work with.” He smiles softly, gently. “Thank you, Juno.”
“Hurry up and get your evidence already.” Juno turns away so he doesn’t have to look Rose in the eye. “I don’t want to see anyone die tonight.”
------------------
By the time the police lights cast their flashing lights across the mansion’s walls, Juno is nowhere to be found.
Peter isn’t surprised that the thief has slipped away again. He is, however, caught a little off guard when he reaches for his keys and finds a slip of paper tucked into his pocket.
Just one word, scribbled in a messy hand, but it makes Peter’s heart skip a beat.
Thanks
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
Day Seventeen [Internship at Mingan Island Cetacean study]
22-Aug-2017
A very early day! And I was so anxious about it that I woke up 5 times or so in the middle of the night, thinking it was time to get up (the first one was before 1h, I think! Haha)!!
One of the interns is leaving, and she's taking the bus (which is what I'm gonna have to do when I leave), so I wanted to go with her to see where it was, and how it worked. But the only bus leaves very early, so I woke up at 5h20, and we left just before 5h30.
The bus stop is in front of the market, so it's a 5-minute-walk… it's pretty close, but it's not easy when you have a lot/heavy luggage, or it's raining.
The sun had risen 15 minutes earlier, so it still looked very nice, especially with the fog… oh, yeah… there was fog… I was pretty sure I would go back to sleep, at 6h.

She thought the bus was at 5h50, but it turned out it was at 5h55, and it was about 5 minutes late, but I could only wait with her until 5h55, because I had to be back at the motel at 6h, to radio the house to confirm that we were not going out because of the fog.
Oh!! I found a dead frog in the middle of the street!! I hadn't seen or heard any amphibians here… too bad it was dead (and pretty squooshed)!

When I got back, the other intern had already radioed them (because she was supposed to go on the boat I went last time) and, as expected, they said it was too foggy, but for us to call again at 8h15.
So yeah, back to bed until 7h30. Then I got up, got dressed, checked out what the girl had left behind in her room (I took the table lamp she had taken from the other room, because, since there are no windows, it's pitch black when you turn off the light). When I went up to the kitchen, I could see the beach, which meant that the fog was gone, so I was optimistic! By the time I finished breakfast, we called them again, and they told us they weren't sure yet, because there was still some fog, but for us to try and go to the house around 9h.
I had prepped most of my stuff last night, so I just made myself a sandwich to go, took a banana and a granola bar, finished getting ready and we left around 8h50.
At the house, no one was in a hurry because they weren't really hopeful… but we were gonna try. I mean the other boat should be fine, because it stays by the shore, and they wouldn't be looking for whales anyways. Our boat was taking a session, so if we couldn't go where we were meant to go, we would try and go around the islands. Plan B sounded pretty good to me as well, since I haven't been to the islands and I REALLY wanted to see puffins (they don't come to the continent and they are leaving for Newfoundland)!!
As I was looking out the window, waiting for them, I finally saw the fog they were talking about… because I could see the sea, and it was cloudy, it looked like it was just water and sky… but then I realized that the island in front of us was pretty much gone!
We left for Mingan at 9h30, and then left the harbor just after 10h. The sea was very calm at first, but in about 10 minutes it was already very different! It wasn't bad; it was what we consider “sea state 2”, but considering that “1” is very flat, when you're on a speeding zodiac, you can definitely feel the difference!
Once again I forgot to put my gloves on, so my fingers were freezing, but I was gonna wait until we stopped to go to my backpack and get them.
I saw a few puffins!!! But it was all too fast, and the lighting was bad, so they looked almost all black, even though I was seeing their ventral side… but I could see their shape, as they quickly flew away from the boat… I need to photograph a puffin!!
The sea had calmed down again just before 11h, but less than half an hour later, it was at 3!! You can definitely feel that!! I hit my knee so many times that I was sure I would have some bruises!!
And then… we finally spotted a spout!! It was a fin whale!! My first fin whale!! The second largest animal that has ever lived!! Just… wow!! Because you only see a very small portion of them, it's hard to imagine their actual size… but it was amazing!! But the lighting was too bad for photos, so we left…
I was the one who saw the next one!! Another spout… this time from a humpback whale!! My first humpback whale!! They were able to ID him while we were taking photos, and his name is Adiego.
The whales have a breathing pattern; when they come up to breathe, they surface a few times before actually diving. During those, we get to take photos of their dorsal fins, or the chevron, in the fin whale's case (those are markings on the right anterior side, which we can use to differentiate them); then, as they dive, we can take photos of the peduncle and the fluke, in the humpback's case. That means that we can stay with the same whale for quite some time, because after it dives, it takes a good 10 minutes or so to surface again, and by then, it's somewhere else, so we need to wait to hear/see the spout again, and approach them again.
Oh! We had a few porpoises swimming around the boat on one of those moments when we weren't moving!! They're too fast though, so I still don't have a good photo of them!
We found a couple more fin whales, then stopped for lunch at 13h. But then we saw a humpback, and started recording again… and it turns out that this is one I recognize! It's a new one, that it's not in the catalog yet, so the girls hadn't been able to match it last week, and I was able to match, and then I saw that it was the same whale… it's a pretty small animal… It must be a young one!
And then one of the fin whales decided to join us, and it was awesome to have lunch with them around!!
Oh, something I never thought I would do was pee out of a boat, but days at sea are very long, so it's really hard to hold it in… and once we stopped for lunch, we all took turns going to the back of the boat to pee… and it was actually not nearly as bad as I thought it would be (at least on this boat), cause there's a perfect place for you to sit and hold on to, so you won't fall in the water.
We then saw other 2 humpbacks with the one I know, but when they surfaced again, after diving, it was just the 2 new ones.
Half an hour later we found 2 more, and once again I was able to recognize one! Another one that has no match, but has a very distinctive fluke, completely black, but with many white scars, and a rounded edge… and we needed to take a biopsy from it!!
The arrows have modified tips with a foam to make them not go deeper than 3 cm, which is enough to get both skin and blubber sample. The skin is used for DNA test, so we can tell the sex, and who is related to; the blubber is used to measure hormones (so it's possible to tell if a female is pregnant) and contaminants, which get accumulated in the fat.
It took 3 attempts to actually hit the whale and get the samples, and during those, I was responsible for taking photos (so we can see where the arrow hit). The camera is very big, and heavy, so that weight around my neck, plus looking through the camera and such, made me sea sick. But I wasn't feeling it in my stomach, but in my head, so I didn't need to throw up, I was just feeling blah.
We found another humpback, then the same fin whale from before, but I wasn't turning my head too much; just taking the notes… then, as moved for a while, I started feeling better, and the sea went back to “1”, so my head finally went back to normal, after almost two hours.
We found another fin whale and decided to call it a day, because it was already 17h30 and the lighting was bad, and there was fog on one side… but then, 10 minutes later, we found 3 new humpbacks, one of them being a calf!! Unfortunately, the calf never fluked though.
By then, the sea looked just like a lake! There was total silence, and we could clearly hear the blows! At one point, there were those 3 whales, 2 more on the other side, then one more, and another one… mostly humpbacks, but also that same fin whale from before; others we weren't able to get to, and there were porpoises and a seal… and we had just seen a minke!! It was fantastic!!

We approached the 2 humpbacks, took photos, then went back to the 3, to try and get better shots. We then went back to the 2, because one of them needed to be biopsied. Thankfully we got that sample on the first attempt!
We went back to the 3 whales for the last time, then called it day, once again, at 18h30.

We arrived in Mingan at a quarter to 20h, and the captain took the session back, so she could have dinner, while we unloaded and refueled the boat. It was already 20h30 when we finally left.


I helped them unload everything at the house and got to the motel around 21h. I met the new intern (a girl from Belgium), had dinner, took a shower, and was barely able to do anything else!!
I'm dead tired!! It was a veeeery long day!! But definitely worth it!! =)
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
Klaus and Dave for the fourth sarcasm prompt
from this list 4. “Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.” i really do want to try to write something for tua, like an actual something but i want to be secure in the characterization. the fics i’ve read so far haven’t done it for me, so i wanna do this right, for all the characters, so please feel free to send in other prompts, from the list or not, with any of the characters from the show (preferably one of the 7)
thanks for sending in this prompt! i hope you like it. another tua fic i wrote can be found here
“I don’t know about this, Klaus,” Dave says, whispered, from behind Klaus’ right ear, and for a moment, he isn’t in the middle of some town he doesn’t know, decades before he was born, turning around a corner to watch for guards. Instead, he’s in the Academy, watching for Reginald, or Mom, dragging Ben behind him in pursuit of the sweets Mom keeps in a “secret” cabinet in the kitchen. Ben was always behind him, whatever he did, from the time they were kids until– well, until Klaus time traveled here, really.
Klaus swallows and glances back at Dave, grinning. “Don’t sweat it, sugar-lips,” Klaus says, just to watch Dave blush in the hazy light of moon. “Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.”
Dave laughs, too loud and then muffled when he remembers they’re supposed to be quiet. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he says, when the laughter has been successfully corralled underneath his tongue. “Why would a non-English speaker and a deaf person be on an American MASH base?”
Klaus waves a hand. “Irrelevant. Just don’t get caught.” He turns back around to check if they’re clear and Dave huffs another laugh, this one caught in the short hairs on the back of Klaus’ neck. He inhales shakily. Stay focused, Hargreeves, he thinks, and steels himself before looking again.
“We’re clear,” Klaus says. “Let’s go.”
They run quietly up to the locked door of the colonel’s office. The corporal is off getting plastered at the officer’s bar with the rest of the platoon– thank Santa for their drunkard brothers in arms– which means Klaus and Dave can sneak into the colonel’s office and drink the primo booze there, have their own little party.
“How’re we gonna get in?” Dave whispers, glancing around quickly, panicked.
“Chill, babe, you’re with me.” Klaus grins and Dave pauses his worrying to shake his head back. Klaus pulls out his standard issue pocket knife. Dave sighs as Klaus begins to work the tip into the keyhole.
“How do you know how to do that?”
Klaus shrugs. “Diego had a book about it, I think. He left it in the bathroom once and I read it while I was in there.” He’d spent hours locked in the bathroom, reading away. Dad– Reginald had come looking for Klaus for training and he’d been so tired, that morning he’d ran into a ghost coming back from the park who had screamed and screamed and– Klaus shakes his head of it. The book is helpful. The memories are not.
Within a minute, the door’s unlocked, and they slip through quietly despite knowing there’s no one here to hear them. The booze is stashed behind another lock, but Klaus makes quicker work of that and turns to show Dave his prize, grin pointedly manic.
Dave shakes his head and leans in to press his lips against the corner of Klaus’ mouth, instinctual, like he couldn’t help it, like Klaus is something to be drawn to instead of run away from.
“Let’s toast,” Dave says as Klaus tugs out the cork. Klaus offers the bottle to him, as he’d never been any good at toasting and shit. Why wait for the high? That’s what he’d always thought. It wasn’t until he met Dave that he learned how good the trip there could be too. Dave takes the bottle with a small smile, lifting it slightly. “To the war ending soon,” he says, faith shining in his eyes.
Klaus never had much of a formal education, but he remembers some things from the lessons Mom gave them in between training. The Vietnam War was one of the longest, he remembers. Didn’t end until well into the 70s, he thinks. Still, he smiles when Dave drinks to his toast and kisses him quick after the bottle is lowered to taste the whiskey from him. It’s always better that way.
They drink sitting on the floor, backs against one of the make-shift walls of the office. Dave is a fun drunk, slowly getting more giggly with less reason. Their fingers brush, Dave giggles. Klaus whistles, Dave giggles. Klaus leans in to mouth at the join of Dave’s jaw, where he never gets all of the stubble when he shaves, and Dave giggles a sound low in his chest, a moan but almost unbearably happy.
Sometimes Klaus wonders what Dave would be like high. Not hard stuff, no needles or noses, but a simple joint, maybe. Dave would never, Klaus knows, a good Jewish boy, hardly smokes except to calm his nerves. But imagining it, a Dave slow and smiley, the worries of the war dropped far behind him. Klaus wouldn’t mind a Dave like that.
Not that he minds the Dave he has now. He doesn’t wonder too much about the drugs, not about Dave taking them and not about him wanting them. There’ve been pangs, of fucking course there have. When they lost Hamm, when Klaus had to wear his blood on his hands for a day until they found a stream deep enough. When he mentioned Ben, off-hand, and Dave asked about him and halfway through a story about playing The Floor is Lava by climbing around the living room, precious artifacts and all, Klaus realized that he would probably never see Ben again. Klaus wasn’t planning on going back, even if they got sent home.
What does he have to go back to? Ben, yes, but Ben is dead, and the rest of Klaus’ siblings aren’t– He doesn’t want to say they’re not worth it. He knows they care about him, in the same instinct kind of way he feels for them, he knows that they’re family at the end of the day and even when they fuck up and hate each other and even want to kill each other, they’re still the same kids that used to sit out in the yard and tell each other what the clouds looked like.
Ben and Vanya always had the best ones. “It’s a train,” Ben would say, and suddenly the blob would make sense to Klaus. “It’s a banana,” Vanya would say and Klaus would ask where and Ben would already know. Vanya would point her small finger up at a mash of white cotton balls and say, “Look, it’s a bunny,” and Klaus could see the damn thing hopping.
Diego always went violent. “It’s a bunny with its head bashed in,” he would say, and snicker when the others would protest.
“It’s a bunny with a hat,” Allison would retort, sniffing, haughty, and then she’d tell them what brand it was, how expensive it was.
“Where’d a bunny get money for Gucci?” Klaus would snort and Allison would knock her foot into his ankle and he’d laugh.
“I think it has a tie, too,” Luther would say, quiet. He was always quiet around them when they weren’t on a mission. He only really felt comfortable speaking out when he was following Allison.
They would all murmur in agreement, even Diego, and then Five would say, “It’s a collection of water droplets light enough to float. It’s not anything but a cloud.”
At the time, Klaus would stick his tongue out at Five and tell him he was a buzzkill, but as he thinks about it now, tipsy, on a floor, thigh pressed against the only man he’d ever loved, Klaus wonders if it wasn’t condescension but defensiveness. Did Five ever see the bunny in the cloud? Could he? What were smarts when he couldn’t relate to anything but a book?
Klaus snorts to himself. No wonder the kid fell in love with a mannequin. Makes absolute fucking sense.
“What’re you giggling about?” Dave asks, slurring a little.
Klaus hums. “Clouds.”
“Hmm.” Dave leans into Klaus’ side, warm and heavy and smelling of shaving cream. They’d been out for weeks, using their knifes to make their stubble manageable, but they’d stumbled upon the MASH station earlier that morning and reveled in the luxury of mirrors and razors. Dave smells cleaner than Klaus ever remembers him being, and though Klaus typically hates change, it’s nice.
“What’re you gonna do after the war?” Klaus says, and he hiccups, realizing instantly that it’s the kind of sappy question optimists ask, and he really shouldn’t be entertaining notions of after when he knows the war isn’t ending for a long while, but the words are off his lips and he can’t take them back.
“Go home,” Dave says, easy. “Teach music again, maybe. That was nice.” He turns his head into Klaus’ shoulder and looks up at him, blue eyes wide and innocent. Klaus marvels at how he still looks like that after all they’ve done, all they’ve had to do, to survive. He thinks that Dave could do it. Go back home, be himself again. He’s retained more of it than any of them have. Dave is so good, fuck, sometimes Klaus doesn’t know what to do with it.
“What about you?” Dave asks, quiet, and Klaus blinks back into awareness and hums, questioning. Dave clarifies, “What will you do after?”
Klaus thinks about the briefcase stashed under the cot they assigned him that morning. He doesn’t know how the thing works. In all likelihood, he could open it again only to end up in California during the Gold Rush or some shit. But if it could bring him back right where he left, bring him home to whatever measure of home that time was, would he do it?
Klaus never answers, because at that moment there’s movement outside and they hear someone saying, “Is the colonel’s office open?” and Klaus and Dave scramble out the window, breathless, stifling their giggles, and they run back to their shared tent as fast as they can.
They stop outside the front flap, panting and leaning their hands on their knees. They meet eyes and laugh, too loud but alive, and it feels so good to be running from something that doesn’t want to kill them, and Dave steps forward, hardly even looking around to make sure they’re alone, and cups the sides of Klaus’ face to pull him into a breathless, blood-thumping kiss.
This is why, Klaus thinks, as he curls his hand around Dave’s wrist to feel his pulse against his fingertips. This is why he won’t go back. Because as much as he loves his siblings, when it comes down to it, he doesn’t feel safe with them.
Dave doesn’t make the ghosts go away, and fuck knows there’s a lot of them in a war zone. But when the screaming gets too loud and Klaus panics like a shell-shocked soldier, Dave holds him close and whispers roughly into his hair, tells him it’s alright, they’re dead, Klaus is alive, they only have as much power as Klaus gives them.
Dave, for all his giggles and smiles and optimism, understands the trauma Klaus’ power brings him more than any of his siblings– even Ben– could understand. They will always be strangers who grew up together. They will always see different things in the clouds. Klaus needs someone who, when he says, “I need a fix,” hears, Help me.
Klaus kisses Dave back and doesn’t worry about whether or not Dave can taste the I love you on his lips. It’s fine. Klaus knows he does.
#klaus x dave#klave#klaus hargreeves#the umbrella academy#fic#the umbrella academy fic#my writing#sort of fic#ficlet#angst#fluff#drunkenness#it's cute i promise#PLEASE READ IT#YES I'M DESPERATE#i want to write the siblings#like all of them#they all have such interesting dynamics#also this is v gay b warned
193 notes
·
View notes
Text
The New Girl, Part 1

I'm going to hijack something else from you today, @m-faithfull. 😁 I saw you post this pic a little while back, and I was itching to write for it. Here you go, a leonine Robert going in for the kill. 😬 Just felt like making him a little more forward this time around.
Thanks to @starchild0985 for the argument idea a while ago, and thanks to @firethatgrewsolow for the sanity check on the emotional stuff. ❤️❤️❤️
Not smut yet, but there are "adult undertones." 😎
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You round the corner with the food cart and hear them before you see them: the blaring radio and the boisterous, British-accented speech. And then there's a fearsome, metallic crash--a large, glass something, likely hurled into trash can.
You park across from the doorway, look into the room, and take a deep breath. It's your first night on the job, your first time serving a bunch of rock stars and their entourage. You've heard the stories and know that anything is possible in the green room: arguments, fist fights, food fights, hasty sex, even musicians too drunk or high to perform. But it's not just anxiety about the possible mood in the room that gives you pause. You are a huge Led Zeppelin fan, and you are as ashamed about your pink polyester work dress as you are excited to meet the young legends. You've daydreamed about meeting Robert, in particular, but certainly never under these circumstances.
You're glad to have had time to pull your copy of Led Zeppelin IV out of your locker while no one was looking and stash it on the bottom shelf of the cart, hidden behind the long, white tablecloth. An autographed vinyl would be a happy memory of the night, even if everything else went crazy.
Bonzo starts talking, and you realize things are not as jovial as you'd hoped.
"All I'm saying, Perce, is less talk between songs!" Bonzo's voice is colored with exasperation. "We both know damn well that you're just scanning the crowd to skim the finest birds off the top for yourself, innit?"
You're not sure if you should make your way into the room or stay out of the fray for a while. Since no one has noticed you yet, you decide to watch what happens next.
"How do you mean, Bonzo?" Robert's voice has all of the charm you'd expect to hear, but you don't know if his soothing tone will be enough to defuse the situation.
"All I'm doing," Robert continues, "is showing love and gratitude to the audience and setting the scene for you lot to release the sturm und drang, as it were."
"Fucking hell, Robert. Admit it, that's not the release you're most worried about! The crowds are bigger than in Birmingham, but you haven't changed your horny bastard ways one bit, matey…"
"It seems the song does indeed remain the same," Jimmy muses with a chuckle.
"I'm just surprised he ain't have a knee trembler onstage yet. G, Pagey, you're really lucky he didn't hump a pillar when you came to check him out back then. That's the sort of bollocks that I don't miss from this one." He frowns and takes a huge sip of his beer.
It seems this story is new to Jimmy and G, the imposing man you understand to be the manager. Both men exchange glances and shake their heads.
"Fuck it all!" Robert uncrosses his arms and picks up a cigarette package and lighter from the table. "Don't believe me, then." He turns his back on his critics and lights a cigarette.
You get a glimpse of his pout and his elegant fingers, marveling at how cute he looks when he's upset. Somehow this vision has neutralized any red flags raised by Bonzo's stories. You don't know why you can excuse Robert for things that would make you cold to anyone else. You are a little wary, but you know any objections you have left could be swept away with something as light as his sinful whisper in your ear, the brush of his lips against your neck, and the feathery touch of his fingers on your bud.
You are in danger of slipping deep into fantasy and decide to enter the room now to save yourself. Part of you wants to get your work over with, get your autographs, stargaze at the band and leave, but part of you wants to offer whatever comfort you can to the grumpy Robert before your eyes--just about anything he'd ask for.
Everyone else has moved on in a few different conversations. This ends up being a lucky occurrence for Robert, who is still sulking alone and notices you first.
He drops the hand with the cigarette by his side while he familiarizes himself with you. Then he lets loose with a dazzling smile.
G, the rest of the band, and the others in the room focus on you a beat later, while Robert quickly stubs out his cigarette in an ashtray. "And food saves the day. Your timing is impeccable, darlin'. Allow me to be your knight in denim and help you with that cart." He sidles up to you and rests one hand on your shoulder and the other on top of your hand. He winks at you, and you step aside so he can move the cart.
You drink in the sparkly, mostly open button-down that is hanging off of his broad shoulders, thankful that it ends just above the bulge in his jeans that won't be denied, so you can sneak a peek.
He is every bit as flirtatious as you've gleaned from the radio interviews. You get the impression that he doesn't mind the uniform you're wearing, that he's looking way past it in his mind, that he'd still flirt with you if you were wearing a potato sack. It is both a relief and something that leaves your stomach jittery.
"Our wonderful caterer…" he stares for a long time at the general region of your name tag, licks his lips, and relays your name with a wicked grin, "has brought the real food. Orange juice for Jimmy? And sandwiches and crisps for the rest of us. No need to gorge on three-day-old bananas anymore… Although there's one aged almost 25 years that's highly recommended, if you're into that sort of thing…" Robert murmurs the last part for your ears only.
You blush and are stunned by his boldness, but you get your bearings quickly, realizing things will be as out of control as you anticipated. You can't deny that you would love to spend some time alone with Robert, and you're ready to see what other bold moves he has in store.
You steady yourself to throw some of your own boldness his way. "Well, they are good for you--delicious and incredibly filling… And I do like them ripe, personally, so…" You reply just as softly and gaze into his eyes.
Inside of the stare, the two of you are zapped by a mutual, high-voltage flash of interest. Your heart races, and your body throbs.
"Prime example, this is!" Bonzo interjects from the couch. "Percy Plant plucking another flower for himself!"
"Not now, Bonzo," Robert mutters, still looking into your eyes.
You blink rapidly, realizing all eyes are on you. "Sorry… It's my first night here… I-- I've got to set these things out," you stammer to Robert. You want him, but to have things so very obviously play out in front of so many people… A curtain of shame weighs heavy on the lust that has engulfed your body.
Before you can pick up the tray of sandwiches, Robert steps in. "Allow me, love." He notices your conflicting emotions and removes all of the food from the cart for you. You're glad for his help because you feel lightheaded. The last thing you need to do is drop a tray of food on your first night and draw the ire of the rambunctious group.
"What's this, then?" Robert has peeked under the tablecloth and has found your record. "Fancy some autographs from us heathens?" He holds up the album for everyone to see.
"One of my favorites. I must commend your good taste." Jimmy's tip of his glass to you and his friendly words lighten your tension. Your thank-you to him is for his compliment as much as it is for the lifeline to normalcy that he has thrown.
Robert places a hand on your shoulder. "You know what? I'll let the rest of the lads sign first. You look like you could use some help getting this cart back where it belongs, yeah?"
You get the sense that Robert genuinely wants to blot out your embarrassment, but you know that he has other, wolfish desires alongside his altruism. You're okay with that, and you don't question why.
"That would be great." A weak smile grows stronger on your face as you think of how exciting a stolen moment with Robert will be.
"Yes, allow me to drive this for you then?" He begins to push the cart to the door.
"Thirty minutes until showtime, Robert," G calls out, knowing he won't return right away.
Robert doesn't respond to G but does motion for you to join him in the hall. You tell him which way to turn. You're back to bursting with excitement again as you leave the room in the distance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rest of my stories are here, or search for the hashtag #brownskinsugarplumlibrary.
#robert plant#classic rock#led zeppelin#fan fiction#fanfic#writing#my writing#robert plant fan fiction#robert plant fanfic#led zeppelin fan fiction#writer#writers#led zeppelin fanfic#fiction#led zeppelin fan fic#robert plant fan fic#fan fic#short story#fanfic writing#led zeppelin fanfics#fan fic writing#fanfics#robert plant fanfics#fan fiction writing#short fiction#brownskinsugarplumlibrary
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
Man to Man
The air in Leorio’s fancy high rise office was stuffy. A huge mahogany desk rested in the center of the room, it’s top laden with scattered papers, odd looking trinkets, and a few picture frames holding some familiar smiling faces. The walls were lined with tall, matching mahogany book shelves, boasting an extensive medical encyclopedia collection.
Gon sat in a squishy chair that was parked in front of the desk, waiting patiently as Leorio fumbled with his coffee pot. He laughed to himself when the older man let out a quiet stream of profanities followed by a loud “AH-HA!!” The sound of the machine percolating followed. With a hot cup of coffee in hand, Leorio walked over to the two leather arm chairs facing the window, and motioned for Gon to join him. “The view is nicer over here” he said with a light smile, gesturing towards the huge window. Yorknew city bustled below them, the setting sun enveloped the world outside, casting everything into an orange glow. “Now,” Leorio peeked at Gon over his glasses while he blew steam off of his coffee, “what did you want to talk about?” Gon looked up at him, eyes round and bright. He swallowed nervously and glanced down at his feet before starting. “Well-“ Leorio held up a single finger. “Gon, I’m your close friend, there’s no need to be embarrassed or nervous. We can talk, man to man! Now, look me in the eye, and tell me what’s on your mind!” He squeezed his eyes shut, and with a deep breath and furrowed brow, opened them again, amber orbs now shining with resolve. “Leorio, I want to know about sex!” He blurted out, cheeks on fire and mouth dry. Leorio sputtered, spilling coffee onto his pristine white button down. This was a shock for sure! Gon was at that age, he supposed, but Leorio felt out of depth for this conversation. Why couldn’t Gon just talk to his d—his thoughts stopped in their tracks, he suddenly remembered Ging and wished very much that he could punch him again. Harder this time. His son was here, needing guidance! And where was that sorry excuse for a parent? Who knew?! Damned vagabond. Well, it is what it is, and Leorio was a doctor after all, aside from Gon being his dear friend, this was also his duty as a medical professional. After taking a second to regain his composure, he finally spoke, “Gon, you’re really growing up!” His loud exclamation was followed with a hand reaching over to tousle a patch of black spiky hair. Gon saw a tear glint in his eye. “Does this mean you like someone??” He pressed, shooting a wry smile and leaning over to elbow Gon slightly in the ribs. “Well out with it! Who’s the lucky lady, eh?” Gon’s face was deep red. “I-it...w-well, it’s not...” the boy trailed off, reaching an arm up to rub at the back of his neck. This was harder than he thought it would be. Leorio seemed to understand and took some pity on him. “Don’t worry, Gon. I won’t make you tell me. This talk is embarrassing enough without also having to talk about your crush!” He sipped his coffee before starting again. “Gon, you’re growing up, and with getting older comes new feelings and urges” —Gon cringed— “that may be tough to understand. The most important thing when you’re trying to navigate this new territory is to always be safe! Sex is a wonderful and powerful thing, but sex without safety measures is just dumb!” Gon’s adrenaline was rushing and his heart was fluttering in his chest. “What safety measures?” He asked, voice almost a whisper. “Ah! Good question!” The tall man quickly walked to his desk and rummaged through one of its many drawers. He fished out something small and walked back over to Gon. Taking a seat, he passed the foil square to him. “Do you know what that is?” He quirked an eyebrow at the mortified looking teen. “No... What is it?” “That is a condom. Whenever you want to have sex, you should always use one of those! It keeps you and your lady safe from diseases and unwanted pregnancy!” Gon’s face fell. “O-oh. Okay.” Leorio felt a blush rise in his cheeks. He knew what that disappointment was. “I know you may be thinking it feels better without a condom, but the risk just isn’t worth it! One day you might meet a nice woman and settle down, and you two decide together th—“ “Leorio?” “Eh?” He was a little surprised by the interruption. “I want...” Gon cleared his throat. “I want to know about sex with... boys.” Oh. Oh!! Leorio’s eyes grew wide, a new wave of understanding washing over him. Images of a pale, silver haired teen suddenly flashed through his mind. Everything made much more sense now. Gon, looking mortified, continued. “Aunt Mito talked to me about the birds and the bees a long time ago, but she never went into details. Now that I’m older, I need to know more, so I came to you. I really appreciate you giving me details, I just want to make sure they’re...the /right/ details. I don’t want to mess up or-or do something wrong...” Gon hung his head to hide his blush. His slightly upturned nose was now pointing down at the carpeted floor while his hands fidgeted in his lap. Leorio, still a little lost in thought, shook his head to clear it. “Gon. I appreciate your honesty, and so I’ll be honest in return when I say I don’t have much...er- personal experience in this department. But I can still go over the basics with you, and I can also get some helpful pamphlets from work to give to you. The clinic I work for has got tons of informational pamphlets, I’ll snag two for you in case Ki—“ he stopped himself abruptly. “In case you need an extra.” Gon hadn’t missed this, as was evident from the deepened blush now rising to the tips of his ears. “Let’s go over the mechanics now, eh?” Leorio quickly backpedaled. After a long and awkward talk that involved rolling a condom onto the banana Leorio happened to have in his lunchbox—“Gon! You’re in luck! I ran out of apples this morning!”— Leorio finally stood. “Wait here for a bit, I’ll take the elevator down to the main floor where the clinic is and I’ll bring some stuff back for you.” Gon, still sitting with pink tinged cheeks, nodded a confirmation before he head out the door. Gon’s brain was working in overdrive, trying to process all of the new information he had just received, on top of all the new feelings said information had stirred up. Thoughts of condoms, lube, and a certain blue eyed boy were flashing through his mind as he stared blankly out the window at a darkening sky dotted with city lights. He must’ve been truly lost in thought, as he didn’t even notice Leorio return until a hand was on his shoulder, and a small cellophane bag was being placed onto his lap. “There ya go Gon! It’s your ‘Becoming A Man’ Starter Kit. That should be everything you need. For now, at least. There’s pamphlets, some lube, and some condoms. Make sure you practice putting them on! I can’t tell you how embarrassing it is when you’re in the moment and you can’t figure the damn thing out—” Gon stood abruptly, legs shaky, and threw his arms around his friend. “Thank you, Leorio!” He gave a tight squeeze before letting go. “I appreciate all of your help. I didn’t know who else to go to-“ a long finger wagging in the air cut him off. “Now, now! No need to thank me, I’m your friend, Gon. That’s what I’m here for! Not to mention, this was good practice for me! I am a doctor after all, if I couldn’t handle this, I would’ve needed to turn my license in!” The man laughed. Gon looked up at him with a huge smile. “You’re a great friend, and a great doctor Leorio!” He exclaimed, shooting him a thumbs up. Gon could swear he saw another tear in the corner of Leorio’s eye as he returned the thumbs up. “Ah, well. Thank you Gon. I’m glad you think so! Now, off you go! I’ve got some stuff to check on down stairs and you’ve got some practicing to do!” Gon let out an exasperated groan, and Leorio laughed boisterously as they walked out of the office together.
#hunter x hunter#h x h#gon#gon freecss#leorio#leorio paladiknight#fanfiction#killugon#killua zoldyck#killua
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tips for traveling far and alone
Because it's been a while since i did one of these lifehack things.
I spend a lot of time traveling for work, which means I've gathered a few XP points and I have a System and shit. So have some tips. They're pretty geared towards how I like to travel, but a few of these could prob work for many people.
Surviving a flight
When people say they love to travel, they mean that they like being places. Very few people like the actual 'getting there' part. It's stressful, there's waiting lines, you're forced to sit still for long periods of time and usually you have to get up at stupid hours. Being treated like cattle just isn't very fun, and it's not good for your health, either. So:
Rest. Airplanes are just… brimming with germs. The reason that this affects you more than, say, the multitude of germs on the subway you take every day, is because farther trips, especially of the 'party' or 'work' variety are utterly exhausting, and that affects your immune system. So while it is tempting to stuff as much as possible in that trip, know that you're 100% gonna get sick two days later. Try not to push yourself too much, and know that you're already being pushed in ways you're probably not used to.
For the same reason: take care of yourself. Stay hydrated. Keep nourishment upon your person. Try to eat a filling, healthy meal with like vitamins and shit before you leave.
Hand sanitizer is a Gift. See above: brimming with germs. So wash your hands before eating or touching your face. In my experience, however, the sinks in those tiny bathrooms on plane or trains are about as gross as the rest of the stall. This is where hand sanitizer comes in.
Staying fed on a budget
Here's the thing about staying hydrated and healthily fed: airport food, ferry food and train station food is usually super expensive. The prices in the Starbucks at my local airport are at least 50 percent higher than the one in the centre of town, and that is Tourist Central. And this is fine. It makes sense from a business perspective. It's not like you can go anywhere. And if you're going on that one big holiday of your dreams (or if you're just, ya know, rich), go ahead and splurge on fancy sushi. But I've been in the Eurostar waiting room four times in the span of two weeks, and you kinda don't want to splurge every time, ya know.
Bring snacks. You are absolutely allowed to bring food through a security check. Airport security doesn't allow a specific amount of liquid but it says nothing about sandwiches, homemade cookies or fruit.
Bring filling food. While you're at it: don't just bring food, but make sure it'll last. My mom, when I was little and went on school trips, would always make me egg sandwiches, which is a thing I still occasionally do. Mostly, you don't want to bring white bread with nutella, because you'll get a sugar spike, right in the middle of 'expensive food town' or worse, somewhere above the Atlantic. So egg sandwiches work, rice balls work, heck, I've brought banana bread or pancakes with rye flower and a lot of nuts in them. Whatever works.
The caveat here is obviously country quarantines. You can't bring cultures and live plants and bugs and stuff. If you're like going to Australia or New Zealand, bring only pre-packaged snacks, or make sure you finish them on the plane.
Do the water bottle trick. You know those bins before security where you're supposed to deposit all your empty bottles? Those are bullshit. You're not allowed to bring *liquids*. An empty bottle is fine (of course this depends heavily on the airport and the mood of security agents that day, don't argue with them, just… don't). In my experience, I've been perfectly able to bring an empty water bottle with me through security, just to fill it at a water fountain later on. I'll admit that this is a Very Cheap trick, but I like having water with me at all times, ok?
Packing for experts
I don't like overloading myself. Few things bother me more than those stupid trolley things that get in the way of everything and that you're basically stuck with, so I try to make two/three day trips on just a backpack and like a tote. This is a challenge, considering I treck around with a heavy laptop and like a Nintendo Switch and two smartphones. And all the cables needed to keep those things running. Here are some tricks:
Don't bother with shampoo. Heavily dependent on the hotel you're staying, but business hotels will always have soap and shampoo for you. The good ones have conditioner as well. Is it shitty? Yes. Is it worth bringing your own bottle over that? Usually not.
Pack whatever the bare essentials are for you. By which I mean don’t just go by the checklist you got off the internet. No, not even this one. For me, the bare essentials are a toothbrush, toothpaste, make-up for being fancy, deodorant and way too much hand cream. Do try to stay somewhat comfortable, it's a trip, not a punishment.
Speaking of bare essentials: ear plugs will save, if not your life, then at least your sleep pattern. Most methods of transportation, and some hotels, are loud AF. You don't want to wear those headphones while trying to sleep.
Roll your clothes. I got this off of a very old Lifehacker article and that shit works ok? Put your outfit flat on the bed, one layer over the next. Fold in the sides and roll the whole thing into a tight cylinder. Once cylinder per outfit/day. Shove said cylinders into your bag for remarkably wrinkle-free outfits at the end of the line.
Jeans are overrated (don’t @ me) Unless you're only wearing one pair of pants, why would you bring jeans? They're chunky and thick and heavy. Made for weathering hard labour, not for sitting in a plane seat for eight hours. Same goes for chunky knit sweaters. Pretty, comfy and warm, but they take up So Much Space.
You know what's great? Leggings. I say this as a rotund lady, whose travel uniform is leggings, sneakers and a tunic. That shit takes up almost no space, it's comfortable and if you get the right fabrics, it doesn't wrinkle. Also: counts as business casual.
Layers are your friend. Weather is notoriously unpredictable and climate change is a thing. I was in the UK in friggin october and it was 25 degrees and sunny. You can't really prepare for that, so layer. Bring a lightweight jacket, bring a thin shawl.
Wear comfy shoes. I shouldn't have to say this because life is too short to wear shitty shoes, but if you're going to travel, for the love of all that is holy don't do it in painful shoes. You will Always Walk More than you expected. Even if they drop you off at the airport. Airports are huge. The Underground or Metro has surprisingly long hallways to traverse, just finding your hotel may take a walk. And also: what's the point of going to some city abroad if you're not going to walk that city? You're flying all the way over there to see the inside of a convention hall? Fuck that. Walk the city. Experience culture. Go friggin shopping.
Get a good bag. It's not very professional looking to travel for work with a backpacker bag, so I see a lot of those leather bags that double as a trolley. They're invariably hideous. Luckily there are better options. People who know me have heard me wax poetic about my backpack, which is pretty much a Tardis. You can fit ridiculous amounts of stuff in there considering that it counts as a laptop bag for cabin baggage. Extra tip: if you're going the overstuffed route, make sure the zippers are of the chunky type. I have broken zippers on several bags already, the thin ones really can't take too much strain.
Safety and stuff
Staying safe and comfortable when traveling alond doesn't have to be too hard.
If you're the careful type you probably already do this but: use the chain on your hotel room door. Most hotels let you use a chain or bolt, as well as some kind of simple hand lock, on top of your keycard. This is important, because hotels are still a public place and those keycards are meant to be used by more than one person. I have a tendency to hang out in my hotel room in my underwear, (it is one of the joys of traveling alone, don't judge me), and I've had cleaning staff just show up in my room in the middle of the day. That is their job. I've also had people try to come into my room thinking it's their room, while I was in the tub. Shit happens. So if you're in your room, keep it locked. That little chain or bolt keeps pretty much everyone out.
Be aware. One of the issues of traveling alone, is that you don't have a buddy to have your back. This means you have to keep your own security. Now I'm not a very scared person; I will walk an unknown city by myself, even at night, but i'm also not stupid. Stick to main roads, don't flaunt expensive gadgets, don't get drunk. You know the drill. Basically be aware of your surroundings.
Do attempt to blend in. It will make you less of a target, though I do realize that some ethnicities will stand out in certain places, regardless of what they do. In general, most large cities are a mix of races and languages, and even then you can pick out an Obvious Tourist because their whole deal is their Otherness. The clothes they wear, the way they act and talk, it screams that they view this whole area as a zoo. People don't really like that. So adjust, a little, if you can, to the vibe of the place you're in. It could be about walking speed, level of politeness, Commuter Resting Bitch Face. It is definitely also about standing on the right side of the escalator, and not blocking traffic. Little things. Get ye a coffee and a window seat and just watch people for a while to pick up on it. Pretend like you're in a romantic coming of age film while doing it.
The interbots abroad
There are essentially only three things I cannot live without when traveling: passport, credit card, internets. The first two are obvious (the credit card is for buying underwear in case everything else gets lost). The internets are for things like maps, companionship, and freaking out over private message when things somehow go wrong. It’s a great comfort.
Roaming sucks: the best thing the EU did in the past few years is get rid of roaming charges. So if you have a european phone subscription, any mobile data used in most EU countries will just go off your regular tab. But usually, roaming in other countries is Ridiculously Expensive, so you would have to buy a burner phone or local card (which is getting harder), or you're stuck with wifi.
Funny thing about hotels: the fancier they are, the more they charge for wifi, on average. Your basic motel will have free wifi, the friggin Hilton will charge your per hour and have next to no plugs. It's getting a little better, because honestly, who charges for wifi, but if you're in this situation, consider the alternatives.
Get coffee. Starbucks is pretty much everywhere and it's a good place to get your internets on. Yes, the coffee is expensive, but still cheaper than hotel wifi, and as a bonus you get coffee. Furthermore, it has popularized the idea that coffee shops need free wifi, so you'll find plenty of local cafés that offer it as well. In the US you could also try like McDonalds or other places that offer it (tip: this usually does not work in Europe; McD's wifi in Europe is generally Awful).
VPN's, at least the free ones, are fairly useless. Most of them will not get through, for instance China's censorship wall, and several are also just a thin front for collecting your data. Honestly, if you're going to a country with strict internet rules and you won't be staying long, it's probably easier to just stay under the radar.
Speaking of radar: clear your devices of any incriminating things before hopping borders. Especially if you're going to the weird places. The US border police might confiscate your laptop and charge you for stolen mp3's, for instance. Some countries' border police may attempt to have you log into social accounts. Put on, at the very least, two-factor authentication to stop anyone swiping your credentials. Better yet, back up your devices and put them back on factory settings before crossing particularly challenging borders.
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
It was founded in 1990 in New Albany, Ohio and has since expanded across the country.
It specializes in numerous fragrant lotions, bath items, personal care items, and home fragrances. Other Limited Brands include Victoria's Secret, Henri Bendel, , Express, Express Men, and C. O. Bigelow. Limited Brands also once owned Abercrombie Fitch, The Limited, Banana Republic, The Limited Too, as well as Lane Bryant and Lerner, which is now known as New York Co.In October 2006, Diane Neal, former president of GAP Outlet and Mervyn's, was brought in as the new president.The company launched both a seasonal catalogue and a website in 2006. In November 2006, Bath and Body Works launched its first television commercial advertisement. Net Sales as of January 28, 2006 were $2,285,000,000, significantly higher than all other Limited Brands, except Victoria's Secret.Other: Shampoo Conditioner Styling cream Nail polish Anti aging cream Body powder Cold cream SindoorInternational Nomenclature of Cosmetic List of ingredientsCosmetic advertising Beauty salon Cosmetology History of cosmeticsAlmay American Beauty Artistry Aveda Avon Bath Body Works Biotherm Bobbi Brown The Body Shop Bonne Bell Burt's Bees Cargo Carol's Daughter Clarins Clinique CoverGirl Elizabeth Arden Est Lauder Faberg Hard Candy Helena Rubinstein Kevyn Aucoin Kiehl's Lanc Laneige Laura Mercier Lise Watier L'Or Love Cosmetics MAC Cosmetics Mary Kay Max Factor Maybelline Nars Natural Wonder Neutrogena Nivea Oriflame Origins Revlon Rimmel Sephora Shiseido Shu Uemura SK II Stila Ulta Urban Decay Vichy Victoria's Secret WellaChemicals Companies People History. Iside Sarmiento productoslibro de Feng ShuiAromas doTerraOhmjard zenbamb de la fortuna"Precaucin con los espejos. Nunca ponerlos alineados con puertas y ventanas excepto si la vista es a un bello paisaje para atraer a tu hogar el Ch de la naturaleza".La Lavanda elimina el stres, el insominio y ayuda relajarse y a dormir placenteramente. Muy bueno para alergias, picaduras del insecto, repelente natural y quita espinillas.El Limn es un desinfectante natural, purifica la sangre y ayuda a regular el de la presin sangunea circulacin, varices y estado de animo.Qvc Mac Makeup, makeup forever academy fortShop For Your Favorite Tarte Makeup Now! Try our New Search Results! Shop, Compare and Save at Pronto. Free Shipping on all orders! Sep 5, 2010 . New Stuff! (Ulta, Sephora, MAC , All Cosmetics Wholesale, QVC ). gtgirly202 videos. SubscribeSubscribedUnsubscribe 4,267. 1,822. Like . Or, for a bit of dream like pampering, just glide the brush on your skin with or without powder, for a light massage. From It Cosmetics. As far as I know, MAC NEVER goes on sale. BUT you can get their products in the Cosmetics Company Outlet stores.They usually have a limited selection of regular line . Nov 10, 2012 . and countless others. I absolutely love the tarte liquid foundation but wish it was a tad more hydrating. I'm not sure why I'm tempted by the Tarte . QVC Please try to bring MAC Cosmetics here! my fear is that like ALL the other make up beauty shows, the spectrum of diversity will be underrepresented. Explore QVC and find everything you need paired with award winning service, from the comfort of your own home. Don't be suprised when you see Ricky Martin as one of the faces for the next Viva . From It Cosmetics. QVC : Product Detail. Item no: A225107 . Photos Videos. It Cosmetics Anti Aging Celebration Foundation with Brush . 32649758df 18M A C Makeup for less. Grab a bargain today. Mac Makeups . Compare Foundation Makeup Read Expert and User Reviews. Huge Range of Top Brand Make up Get the best deal . mac pro cosmetics on Makeup.

Apr 13, 2012 . In anticipation of QVC 's All Access Beauty, QVC invited me to share my top picks with their . Temptalia Beauty Blog: Makeup Reviews, Beauty Tips . Nov 14, 2012 . Win It! $500+ in Holiday Beauty Gifts from QVC ! Temptalia Beauty Blog: Makeup Reviews, Beauty Tips . Re: MAC 'Hello Kitty' Jewelry on QVC I have seen Hello Kitty on QVC for a while and almost ordered a white watch several months ago but I did not do it. http://www.elegantsuites.com/images/ , 2013 . 6th Annual Women In Film Pre Oscar Party hosted by Perrier Jouet, MAC Cosmetics WIF Pre Oscar Party QVC Red Carpet Style at Four . Tag Archives: bare escentuals qvc . Bare Escentuals Qvc . For years cosmetic companies like Bobbi Brown, Mac , Max Factor,Dior, and Elizabeth Arden, dominated the industry especially in the area of liquid and .mac makeup stores in salt lake cityface off makeupsdora goth makeupquick and simple zombie makeuppiya ka ghar makeupsukin rosehip oil makeupalleywedding makeup grand rapids mi It all about the eyes in Bollywood "I spot the actress first by her makeup crew," says Mohit Rajhans, who by day is a segment producer on Breakfast Television and by night the film critic on Omni's Bollywood Boulevard and CBC's Metro Morning. "In Hollywood you would see an actress maybe flanked by her handlers, maybe a stylist. In India the imperative is a flawlessly made up face. No mean feat considering the hot weather conditions they have to radiate through." For the IIFA Awards this weekend, MAC Cosmetics (founded in Toronto) has taken ownership of the grooming side. MAC has had a long collaboration with the awards association, which travels each year as an ambassadorial caravan for Indian film. The main man of Bollywood makeup is Mickey Contractor, who slightly resembles actor Paul Giammati. He is the director of makeup artistry for India, having broken into a business known for family dynasties in the behind the scenes functions as much as onscreen. Makeup remained very traditional, he says, the heavy pancake foundation, flawless brows, heavily lined eyes with a Cleopatra flick at the corners and nude lips. Contractor discovered the MAC brand shooting in Canada and began to work for the company and help bring the products to the professional setting and mass retail. He arrived in town this week to supervise the IIFA festivities (including a MAC sponsored fashion show that takes place tonight called IIFA Rocks); the company revived his recent limited edition Bollywood collection, which will be available at the Bloor St. store this weekend only. His custom mixed Studio Fix foundations have enough coverage to survive a day filming in the Mumbai heat but still have "a dewy, western style glow" to them. The new generation of Bollywood actresses are demanding more natural looks, says Vimi Joshi, MAC's London born, Dubai based senior makeup artist for the Middle East and India, in town to work on her regular roster of clients. "I work in a place where women love makeup so much," she says.
1 note
·
View note