#if give my regards to flop street has one fan it’s me. if i was around in the 80s i would be supporting this terrible movie so hard but alas

[glennmillerorchestra]

he’s not such a bad boy, no more! 😈

[vminity21]

Reparation | kth [Sneak Peek]

Pairing: PoliceOfficer!Taehyung x PrivateConsultant!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k (currently)

Genre: suspense/thriller/angst/smut/fluff

Inspired by: the book The Twin by Natasha Preston, basically a fanfiction of a fiction except with different scenarios

Warning(s): language use, mention of crime/death, mention of mental institution, angst, smut, mention of infidelity, stalking

Summary: As a Private Investigator with the rarity of consulting with the police force, you strive to sleuth any possible situation you can in order to find healing for your clients; and, with the help of your best friend, Kim Taehyung, the pair of you are a force to be reckoned with. When Jaehyun, the son of the chief of police, calls in desperation to save his girlfriend he claims has been wrongfully accused of strange incidents, you can’t seem to shake the feeling that something isn’t quite right. Little do you know, you are about to uncover the scariest crime you have ever encountered in your entire career, .... well, if the one truly guilty will let you get away with it first.

The slap of a manila folder hits the black table that sits daintily outside of a coffee shop before the sound of a skidding chair accepts the brisk flop of you taking a seat. The immediate arrival of the folder created a tiny gust of wind causing the nervous woman before you to jump slightly before her shoulders relax at the realization that it is you.

“Couldn’t be a bit more inconspicuous? God, you scared me,”

“I apologize, Mrs. Gwan,” Lifting your sunglasses to rest upon the top of your head, the wind picks up enough to cause the slight curls of your hair to tickle your cheeks. Mrs. Gwan waves a hand to dismiss your apology,

“Did you confirm my suspicions or not?” She hardly is wanting to make eye contact, but you know she is itching enough to know what information you have uncovered, even though the news, unfortunately, isn’t good. Swiping your tongue over your lips, you inhale quickly,

“I have. Now Mrs. Gwan I must warn you-”

“I don’t care. I’m ready to see that filthy bastard.”

Reluctantly, with pressed lips, you spin the folder closer to Mrs. Gwan, opening the first page to reveal the first out of many pictures you were able to snag of her unfaithful husband with his arm curled around the waist of a young brunette wearing a tight red dress heading into the building of a well-known bar centered in the city of Daegu. Her fingertips spread over the photo, mouth ajar as she stares at it, flipping through each one, anger welling in her focused gaze.

“Mrs.-” Her hand stops you- shaking her head as if to rid of any words she is wanting to say, but refrains, rather, she turns to dig into her purse for the check she now gestures in your direction, “Here’s the money I owe you,” hesitant, though pity resonates from your umber irises, you take it,

“Mrs. Gwan, I am so sorry,”

“You’re not the one who needs to be sorry.” Her sad eyes watch you for a minute as she tries to collect her words, but nothing forms. Holding up an index finger, you swiftly pull a card from your clutch, sliding it face up to her as her eyebrows scrunch.

“Monnie Min is the finest divorce lawyer I know,” you confidently pin the card with your finger until Mrs. Gwan flickers her gape between the card and your gentle grin in mere surprise. “And, you bet she’s going to make sure your husband is buried alive for his infidelity,”

One thing that you will say about being a private investigator is sometimes seeing that glimmer of hope in your client’s eyes despite having to be the bearer of bad news is the reason you know this was your calling from the beginning. “Thank you,” she murmurs, gripping the card in determination before giving a quick bow in goodbye. You watch until her frame blurs into the distance before compiling the contents back into the folder; you sigh in relief, squeezing your eyes shut before sliding your sunglasses back over your vision. “Another day, another success,” you proudly state, turning on a heel to trek to your car.

The next destination set in your path involves a place where your face is highly familiar amongst the officers of the law, but most definitely not in a negative way. Igniting the engine of your vehicle, you carefully back out of the parking spot and turn in the direction of the police station. Though some find it strange, you always keep it silent within your car due to the swarm of thoughts you have muddled across your brain which is what your best friends like to tease you about regarding your musical boundaries. Apparently, you have to ‘quiet’ the music in order to see while driving, though you swear up and down that you enjoy music in your downtime. Other cases are still in the process of being solved, though the main conflict you deal with are affairs, hence why your best friend Monnie comes into view because she handles the end of it all with fighting for the person who has been wronged in their marriage. The pair of you make the perfect team, and if clients aren’t completely healed from their situation, that’s when you and Monnie recommend your other mutual friend, LenLen Lee, who is a psychologist that works at a local high school but also takes sessions on weekends to work with other patients not related to the younger generation. As complex as each of your job fields can be, it is always nice to try different things to keep the routine from being completely the same.

Another reason why the police force is a huge fan of yours, or at least, your long-time friend, Kim Taehyung though you will never admit it or draw attention, but as many times as your friends have said it, you are the number one recommended in your field, yet you try to keep your identity on the down-low for safety precautions. Assisting criminal investigations have been rare, but something you agree to help with when they are stuck finding evidence to deem a culprit guilty. Reading people is your specialty which ignites how you proceed with any investigation, but sometimes people in all different work environments make mistakes even if it is something they can’t afford.

“Ah, miss [Y/N], welcome back! Couldn’t get enough of us, huh,” Jung Hoseok, the officer behind the front desk muses while you flash him a silly grin once entering the building.

“If I heard correctly from the whispers on the street, you bafoons can’t seem to get enough of me. Is Taehyung in?”

Hoseok lazily points toward the sea of desks hiding up the same hallway you cross when you visit, “Where you always find him,”

“Don’t know what I’d do without you, Officer! Thanks!” You turn enough to salute at Hoseok, him shaking his head at you playfully before you disappear to the immense number of testosterone either deeply concentrated on the screens of their electronics or throwing crumpled straw wrappers at each other when boredom strikes. And, what do you know, boredom strikes- Officer Park Jimin, hops to sit on a desk whilst attempting to throw what looks to be a wrapper to a mini chocolate bar at a fellow co-worker, grinning ear to ear before your gaze travels to the fluffy dark hair hunched in front of a computer screen. Files are sprawled with slews of colorful sticky notes to the point the top of his desk doesn’t look as if it exists leading you to raise an amused eyebrow.

Leaning against the doorway, you study the view before you, mumbled conversations are taking place, but attention is diverted enough to not notice your arrival. The faint smell of coffee wafts past your nostrils though your dear friend, who is dazed at whatever information he is scrolling through can only tolerate the liquid he deems as poison. The black uniform tugs nicely to his figure, the scuff of his shoe slides as he leans back in his seat, tapping his slim fingers in rhythm to a gallop on an extremely thick folder off to his right.

Clearing your throat, Taehyung jolts in his chair, whipping his head around with widened eyes that are partially shaded by the thick curls spread upon his forehead. “Scaring people must be my specialty today,” you ploy, hearing the gentle snickers of Officer Jimin who happened to witness the moment. Arms that were previously crossed, loosen to your sides while you walk closer to where Taehyung’s desk resides, your clutch still grasped in your hand.

“You have quite the tendency to sneak up on people, have you not heard the gossip?” Taehyung immediately stands to his feet to offer his swiveling chair that has comfortable cushioning compared to the wooden chairs set off to the side. Poking his ribcage, you collapse into the seat, eyes watching Taehyung as he slides his hands into his pockets, looking behind him briskly before leaning against his desk.

“No, I am not aware of how often I become a meddling kid, but if the town must talk, let them talk,”

“I’m pretty sure the talk of the town is for you to join our team,” voice belonging to Jimin, he rounds to stand beside Taehyung, popping a jolly rancher into his mouth while flattery blooms to your expression.

“By the talk of the town, you mean here where I am currently located,” you gesture around you, Jimin flashing you an incredulous look while the sound of the hard candy hits against his teeth.

“Do you not know how many stations want to take you on? Some of our best private detectives even want you to assist them. C’mon [Y/N], you know you’re meant for this,”

 “The honor is hard to reject, but I told you guys, it’s not a good idea,” your elbows dig into the armrests, posing your fingertips together before interlacing them.

“Do I need to remind you of the cases you’ve helped us break? Do you not recall the young girl whose uncle we were able to convict because you got him to confess?”

“Ah,” Taehyung nods once, “She was a missing persons- scene alluded that she may have known her kidnapper, being her car door was wide open, not to mention the items she left behind that were important to her,”

Moving your fingers to press to your lips, your eyes are zoned, “Or, the shoe,” you murmur, “her shoe she left behind indicated she lost it while running,” Or, from fighting the person she thought she could trust.

“It was only two years ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday,” Jimin folds his arms across his chest, his lips dimming down at the memory.

“I just remember he said something that others would have brushed off, but for me, it just didn’t settle,” there was a Search team, you being one of the many volunteers, scoping the forest behind the parents’ country home, and when the uncle appeared to be nauseous on top of the statement he muttered, you paused in sheer horror at the realization of what you overwhelmingly pieced together.

“Settle is an understatement. You nearly punched the guy!” Jimin raises his eyebrows, rocking on his heels with how impressed he still is.

Shaking your head, a breathy laugh escapes your grin, “I would have done much worse if Taehyung hadn’t held me back,” you share a look with him as his petal lips grow into a smile, “All I know, is I am glad we brought her home to her parents. Alive,” LenLen was able to coach the girl through some rough times, recommending coping mechanisms to help her get past the traumatic experience she had as much as she could. Now, the girl and her mother are a part of a group who helps individuals who have gone through something similar- making a change in the world somehow, also talking about safety and that if anyone is hurting you in any way to reach out to someone who can help get you out of the situation.

“You mean you brought her home to her parents alive,” the gentle nature warmed in the eyes of both Jimin and Taehyung moves your heart, and you turn your head to avoid it. Deep down, solving crime and bringing down the bad guys is your passion, but a year ago something changed, and only Taehyung and your best friends outside of the police station know exactly what happened no matter how much you outwardly deny it.

“Well,” you slap the arms of the chair with your palms before grabbing your clutch from your lap to then hoisting yourself to your feet, shimmying the wrinkles from your pantsuit, “tracking down the disloyal is more of my cup of tea,” it’s a partial lie, but you wince when you can tell both men see right through you, yet you flash them a pointed look, “So, word of advice, don’t ever cheat on your significant other while I’m around because I will catch you in the act,” giving Jimin a quick boop to his nose, he scrunches his smiling face in reaction.

“Your confidence is astounding,”

“And may it always be,” you wink, effortlessly twirling on your boot heel to almost slam into a very broad chest. Eyes expanding mingled with the slight leap of your heartbeat, your gaze trails to the face of Kim Namjoon, Chief of Police, a face you always try to dodge when visiting your favorite male specimens. Panic courses through your veins in hopes that he didn’t hear the statement you just said, your eyes darting anywhere but Namjoon’s gaze as he awkwardly clears his throat. Yeah, he heard what you said.

“Hello, [Y/N]. Heard you were potentially considering taking the position we offered you here?” Namjoon’s demeanor as a leader is the utmost professional in ways you’ve never been able to equate. Especially when there was a time you knew him as the Namjoon who loved you at home, zipping from his leadership role and letting loose, finally letting the uptightness funnel down into peace. Sometimes, you miss Namjoon, but then you remind yourself-

“Potentially,” you say rather quickly, quite breathless which is not what you wanted to go for but here you are, and there he is, and there is Jimin and Taehyung, watching the uncomfortably tense scene without any popcorn to enjoy.

With a curt nod and a taut grin revealing his dimples, Namjoon places his hands behind his back and bows, “Well, we all really hope you have a decision soon. There are many opportunities awaiting.” His eyes shift from you to the men paused behind you, “Gentlemen.” And with that, Namjoon walks away, burying himself in the piles of papers he has pining for him in his office. Though your grin doesn’t reach your eyes, you look over your shoulder a fraction enough to see your friends who have yet to scatter, prompting you to throw a quick wave before scurrying out of the building.

Heels clicking onto the sidewalk, the bright sun gives your vision a moment to adjust, and you could kick yourself for leaving your sunglasses in your car. When a large hand lightly touches your back, you nearly squeal.

“Relax! Relax, it’s just me,” Taehyung holds his free hand out as if to steady you.

“Oh, I guess you’re out to take my specialty away from me, huh,” it’s the small, short laugh he does that makes you happy to hear especially when unwanted memories tend to overpower anything else you’d rather think about. “Chief is letting you escape?”

“It’s my lunchbreak,” Taehyung shrugs, “Figured that’s what you were doing as of right now,”

Eyeing him suspiciously with your mouth slightly ajar, you retort, “And what if I have more important matters to attend to?”

“Ouch,” he pats his large hand roughly to his chest, “Honestly, not sure what or who could be more important than me, but I guess,” he looks at his watch, “I can make my time more efficient without being your designated chauffer.”

“Wah!” You scoff, smacking his arm lightly, only to snatch the eyes of an elderly woman who is nearly appalled in thinking you were about to get arrested for ‘assaulting’ an officer as Hoseok would have referred it to. Smiling inelegantly at her, the lady scampers off leaving a chuckling Taehyung. “Oh, don’t get too amused, I’ll make you regret that statement.”

“You started it,” he leans in place a sweet kiss to your temple, your heart skipping immediately at the feel of the gesture, “Now c’mon, I could hear your stomach growling all the way in the office.”

Perks of having a close relationship with the police force is getting to ride in the passenger seat of their cars. Namjoon gave permission for you to be allowed inside them unless they were called to something serious. Otherwise, he wanted you in your own personal vehicle for your protection away from anyone they may have to arrest. Watching the pedestrians zoom past the car window, Taehyung leaves the music thudding just enough to fill the silence. You wonder what he could be thinking about, especially with the run in with Namjoon earlier. A buzz from your cellphone distracts you momentarily, unbuckling your clutch to retrieve the device, you peer at the screen to see it’s from Monnie.

Mo [12:30pm]: Just got off the phone with another one of your clients! I swear I want to take all the credit for my business, but surely, I have you to thank. Bringing me all the coins like you do, I might have to reconsider my marriage with Yoongi, and marry you instead ;P

Smiling to yourself, you notice Taehyung glancing at you curiously, yet keeping a steady focus on the road.

You [12:32pm]: …typing Oh please, he is the top detective at his station, more like the entire country, I’m sure his coins are as deep as the ocean compared to my holey pockets. Send.

“Let me guess. Another accomplishment you can add to the already numerous notches on your belt,” Taehyung’s deep voice serenades your ears enough to snap your gaze from your phone to take in the sight of his boxy smile.

“An accomplishment that I can share amongst my pals,” you confess, shifting slightly in the seat to ease your muscles. “I know you fuss at me about not giving myself enough credit, but you know you do the same thing.” Taehyung licks his lips as he always does- a prominent habit you noticed from day one when he entered your life. “You’ve solved so many cases just from your insane discoveries on evidence that has been overlooked. I may be a good people reader, but you tune into little details in the surroundings that I wouldn’t have even seen.”

“Hence why me and some of the rookies butt heads sometimes. There’s just some cases they rule out so fast, yet I’m doubting everything about the scene in general.” Tae runs a quick hand through his hair, “Especially deaths that appear to be accidents or even, suicides. I just-” he pauses, turning carefully into the parking lot of you and his most favorite restaurant, “I always have to be sure.”

“Hence why you deserve to be chief,” you mutter, though the tinge of bitterness causes you to flinch at yourself.

“And, you deserve to be a part of our station,” Taehyung parks the car, letting the air condition run, “Your faith in me is quite strong I’ll give you that. But, don’t pretend like I don’t know why you won’t accept the job the Chief offered you.”

You rub at your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut to try and block out an unwanted memory, “It was- it was a year ago. He only offered me the job of a lifetime to make me forgive him faster.”

Sadness clouds Taehyung’s eyes, because it bothers him that you’re still hurt, “[Y/N], it still doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve-”

“I couldn’t read him,” you swallow at the lump in your throat, “He was who I thought I was meant to be with and then…” You trail off, humiliation budding in red over your chest. “I caught him in bed with another woman. And, if I couldn’t read him then what’s the risk of me reading someone else incorrectly?”

“You couldn’t have known, sometimes shit happens,”

“Not to us,” you want to believe that everything happens for a reason, and inwardly within the deep crevices of your heart, you do. Gentle fingertips reach for the back of your hand in comfort.

“I also know that’s why you’re so determined on catching cheaters. You’re still angry,”

“I am,” you exhale softly, “But, mostly at myself.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I know beef bulgogi will make you feel better.”

Though bravery can sometimes be your strong suit, when it comes to Taehyung, those nervous jitters that soar through your limbs like to try and get the best of you, “Or, you,” you whisper, him already out of the police car with no knowledge of what you just said. Once seated inside the restaurant, the bustle of many voices mingled with clinking silverware perk your eardrums enough to distract you, rattling off your drink order as well as your typical entrée, not giving Taehyung time to speak.

Smirking at his attempt of a playful glare, you almost miss the vibration of your cellphone signaling a call, “Oh, sorry I probably should-” Confusion shows in the immediate scrunch of your eyebrows prompting Taehyung to freeze in evident concern.

“[Y/N]? You alright? Is it another case?”

The name glowing on your screen is one you would have never expected not since… the breakup.

Before Taehyung can repeat your name, concern obvious in his expression, you meet his stare,

“It’s Jaehyun,” you whisper, “Namjoon’s son.”

[datingintampafails]

Chapter 24 Jake* Part Two

First Date and Another Week

Finally, he arrived at my place to pick me up for our first date, what normally was a five minute drive became twenty five minutes due to traffic. I hop in his car and I’m excited. While we are driving, I look at his center console and see a book regarding Emmanuel Kant, a philosopher. We talk briefly about philosophers, this one in my opinion tells me a lot about him, though he says he doesn’t think Kant’s ideals are sustainable and rather just interesting to think about. Jake* did not have high degrees from college, but is intelligent and well read, there’s more to this book than just the cover.

I had made reservations for my favorite restaurant, Maggiano’s. At the restaurant, it feels like we’ve been together forever, I’m discussing with the waitress that he’s allergic to cheese and making sure that certain items on the menu are okay for him. I order my food and get a glass of wine. Dinner is the opposite of awkward, we are engaged in conversation without a dull moment and happy to be together. 

My best friend got word that we were going to our favorite place, so I ask him if it’s okay if we bring her some leftovers of cheesy garlic bread. He’s completely cool about it, so on the way, we stop by my friend’s apartment to give her the food. She meets us outside and meets him briefly. He is a little quiet but otherwise friendly and we chat for a couple minutes before driving off to my place, a few minutes down the street.

We get back to my place to continue hanging out. My dog goes crazy for him, but after a bit, she relaxed so we could focus on each other. I couldn’t tell you what we were watching, we were just cuddling. We kissed not that much, as his beard’s length scratched my face and I told him it was uncomfortable on my face, but that I definitely wanted to kiss him. I at one point brought my dog outside, and upon returning inside I said I didn’t feel good. My Apple Watch said my heart rate was at 160 bpm, insanely high for me, and I laid back down on the couch. Again, a caring man to the rescue. He tells me to relax there and he will get anything I need and not get up. He gets my dog and brings her back inside, he brings me a drink, I’m waited on hand and foot. I feel better with him around. We spoke about a lot that night of course, but I remember him telling me about him having deleted Hinge and I was the only one he was talking to. Although things so far had felt pretty deep, I was still super surprised he had dropped everything, seemingly, to be with me. I of course had done the same, but for my own reasons. I had talked about Jake* to my best friend and in talking with her I made a deal that if things with him didn’t work out, I would cease dating around until a vaccine comes out/COVID is more or less over.

Meanwhile, outside of my head, he touches my leg and I admit that I have become rather *excited* by being with him in person, our chemistry is just as good in person. He starts to finger me, I tell him to be careful because I wouldn’t want my heart rate to increase again. Strangely, I let him continue and my heart rate goes down. Upon taking a break, this man takes his hand and puts his fingers in his mouth, tasting it. I laugh at him and call him a freak but he laughs too. He too is turned on and he asks me if I want to touch him. I say that I am afraid his claims of being a shrimp are true. Curiosity gets the best of me and over his pants, I touch him and say “oh okay.” I know enough that he is not small. Besides that, nothing happens, as due to my heart issues, I have told him that I want to wait until I’ve seen a cardiologist and make sure it is safe for me to be participating in “cardio.” I ask him if he wants to sleep over, because I want to spend time with him now that I can, and because sexually I am tempted and almost want to just see what happens. He says no. We stop fooling around and just hang out together for another bit of time before he starts to get a headache and becomes really tired. It is then time to leave and agree that we will both have to masturbate later tonight due to our forbidden sex. 

The next day, I am off to test drive a potential new car. We text during my experience there while I’m waiting and I share my news of the new car and the not so great experience at another dealership trying to take care of my old car. He talks about how he felt off due to his headache/tiredness and is seeing a doctor Monday:

We talk about what happened too with the lack of a sleepover: 

I remind him of the activities we DID do, and that obviously I definitely was feeling it. It’s bizarre to me that he still holds uncertainty for my growing feelings of him. 

He is talking about me to his family, I know because he mentions his mother “keeps asking” about me, “will I get to meet this one?” He jokes about telling her I’m 10 years older than him. I say “yeah we just had our first date last night so I should meet your mom tomorrow.” “Exactly.” He now claims he is bored, I ask if he’s bored or if he just wishes I was there. Again, an “exactly.” I get real again.

He decides to take a nap before watching football with his family. He says he is coming back after dinner and asks to come over. I say absolutely and he sends an emoji surrounded by hearts. More or less, he appears at my door maybe 45 minutes later. I did not notice at first, but he had shaved so that his beard was more like stubble. He called me out for not noticing, but upon kissing him and touching his face I told him it was a lot better and I could actually kiss him now without hurting myself.

I do not really remember much about that night or what we did as much as our first date, besides what I am about to describe. Again, he played with me, I touched him, and it got to a point where I finally said, “ok let’s have sex now,” caught by surprise he said “what?” I reiterated I wanted to have sex with him and go to my bedroom. He said he didn’t have condoms, I told him I did. That was that. Shrimp definitely was NOT a shrimp, when we were actually at the point of penetration, it felt a lot bigger. I did not climax but enjoyed myself, and he was attentive, gentle, and communicative. As a joke, he said “good girl” to me, referencing my story to him regarding Dan*. I laughed and playfully nudged him. Similar to Ethan*, compatible sex can only grow feelings. We cuddle, re-clothe, and return to the couch for a while. When he leaves I verify he’s reached home safely before passing out.

In the morning we text each other our good mornings and I tell him I’m glad we didn’t wait. He mentions how great it was and that he’s turned on by thinking about it. I tell him the options of masturbation, bringing “that dick over here,” or a cold shower. Jokingly he says the latter before sending a follow up “just kidding.” He is taking a shower before coming over. I too am going to take a shower, so I let him know the door is unlocked. I hear the front door opening as I am finishing up my shower. I yell out to him that I’m in the shower and he comes to my room. More or less since I’m already naked, we go straight to business. He ate me out, as that is something that he really enjoys doing before having sex. We spend more time together before I more or less kick him out since a plumber is supposed to come by and I am getting my hair done.

Later on, we have a conversation about condoms, he expresses it’s difficult to stay erect with them and I let him know that later down the line we don’t have to use it because of my IUD. He says “Look we’ll stop using them when YOU want to.” I describe to him I am not a fan of them necessarily but the pros and cons. We have more sex talk then immediately segue to sports. I joke that he had better luck with his sports bets before we started having sex. He claims no sex until the end of football season, with another quick “jk.” I am told I wouldn’t make it, I respond that he wouldn’t make it. At this point, we have seen each other three days in a row. I express to him again that I like him.

Monday comes along and both of our appointments go well more or less. They’ve found an abscess in his tooth and he was about to get a root canal to clean it out that day. He mentions he’s driving by my work. For some reason he didn’t think I was there, so missed the opportunity for him to have stopped by. Later that day, I finally feel confident enough to start showing off his Instagram to my co-workers and show them this guy I’ve been talking to. Upon showing one coworker his photo, she says “wait…. I know him!” Turns out she went to middle school and high school with him; they were friends in middle school before he started being a bad boy in high school. My other coworker keeps yelling as a joke that she and I are Eskimo sisters.

We make a plan Tuesday for him to help me swap out my cars, a very nice gesture I appreciate. Consistently he let me know his head is bothering him, an ailment that plagues him constantly. At this point, I don’t have his address, despite him having had mine for a while. I pick him up and we take care of the swap. After the swap, we go back to my place and I flip flop about what we are gonna eat for dinner. Finally, decide on Outback Steakhouse. I insist on paying to thank him for helping me today, something he has never had a girl do for him.

Not much in between, we spend Wednesday night together again and have a sleepover scheduled for Thursday. Wednesday he says something about seeing me in 11 business days, which for whatever reason rubs me kind of the wrong way. When Thursday comes, he, unfortunately, bails since he isn’t feeling good. Friday I made a joke about seeing him for 11 business days. I had promised to give him Hulu logins and a profile, I just needed to get to his place. I mention I am watching the new episode of The Boys on Amazon Prime, we have inside jokes about it, quoting lines like “lazer my tits” and later, “Fuck Fresca.” He gets “upset” that I watched it without him (I did not know we were supposed to watch things together). I asked “was I supposed to wait for you lol,” he says he thought that we would watch it together while eating lunch together. Also didn’t know we were getting lunch together. I came over, watched the episode again, and then we went to McAllister’s for lunch. When we are at his place, we get into sexcapades, with sex brain logic, I decide now is good enough to no longer use condoms. Not to be sketchy at all, and he mentions he feels bad shooing me away after sex, but he has to pack and get ready to stay at his parents’ for the weekend. He plans on Sunday that he is gonna come back after a 1pm football game, and wants to make me dinner at my place. He used to be a sous chef and is quite a talent at that, so out of everything and anything that I could want or have from a real chef, all I want is sloppy joes. We go back and forth on different real dishes he could make, risotto, chicken marsala with pasta, but in the end, I end with sloppy joes. I don’t expect really to hear much of him since he is hanging out with his family for the weekend before Sunday. But I am wrong.

[late--arrival]

If you were the advisor to the boys solo careers what would you advise? Also what would you advise for the brand of One Direction?

Woah, no pressure or anything! That's a lot of responsibility, I'd probably run out the door! lol

It's difficult to say, as fans we don't know what's going on behind the scenes, y'know? We don't know their thoughts and feelings regarding the public demand aspect of their job, there might be reasons they don't do things. Our opinions are just outsiders perspective. However, if I were suddenly dropped into one of those positions (is advisor the right word? Manager? Or is that something different?) I'd probably do this:

Louis: He's not signed atm so... Get him signed I guess? Also have him do a collaboration, his album I think was too personal about his life gain any new fans. So my second box on the checklist would be to try expose him to more of the general public. I'd personally choose Yungblud (and also MGK), but Louis likes Brit-Pop, so maybe Stormzy? But I think Yungblud or MGK would have a heavier swing to it. Also a second collaboration with an older British artist, I'd say Noel Gallagher but I doubt he'd do it, but someone of that sort. Gives him a bigger range to appeal to new fans.

Liam: I'd advise him to get a new team. Like, grab everyone he has right now, and dump them in the trash. Find an agency that actually knows what to do with a music artist. Liam did so well to begin with, then he got internet backlash for a load of things, which he didn't know how to handle (or his useless team) which set him back. Next I'd want to try getting him actually making music again. He did loads of writing and melodies for one direction, maybe try sparking his creative side again. Maybe a collaboration, I think Liam enjoys working with other people, so why not? I'd pick Post Malone.

Niall: First off, I'd tell him to quit searching his name on Twitter lol, he looks for and replies to tweets that mention him without being tagged in. Secondly, I'd say to try find a better balance between his professional and personal life. When he's in a relationship he tends to... disconnect with his fans? Obviously it goes without saying he deserves a wonderful personal life, but he becomes quite distant when he gets in a relationship. It's pretty jarring because he flip flops from one side of the scale to the other. So, yeah, find a little balance.

Harry: Firstly, his merch. Like, what. The. Fuck. Is that shit?! He's the face of Gucci and his merchandise is... That. Really? Clearly his merch team do not care, because those people went to university to have all these design qualifications, and the best they could do was slap his album, and/or name, and/or TPWK, on a basic t-shirt and call it a day. And then Harry looked at it and went, 'yea'. You could literally get anyone off the street and they would not only have the exact same idea, they could literally buy a blank t-shirt and have his album, and/or name, and/or TPWK, printed on it themselves for a lot less money. His whole vibe right now is 70's/80's fashion, there are so many cool ideas with that for merch, but no. Secondly, just like, something to show that he's still Harry, not just Harry Styles™. To me he doesn't have an actual personality anymore, outside a celebrity or fan mentioning how nice/polite he is.

Zayn: Just literally acknowledge some of the shady stuff he's said and apologise. Also maybe stop using his Twitter as a billboard, I'm here to see him not whatever company is paying him for adverts.

Lastly:

One direction: Pfft. Who knows? I'd love to have any idea whatsoever, but let's be honest it's a mess. In a perfect world the guys would actually be interacting and hanging out, because doing anything with the one direction brand kinda requires the members publicly being on friendly terms. Even with Liam and Louis talking more recently, it's not enough to build up anything relating to one direction. Even just updating their logo would a) get too many fans hopes up for ultimately nothing, and b) strange considering it's quite publicly known that the band isn't exactly... on great terms to say the least.

[noirbriar]

MDZS Modern police AU drabble dump

1.

“BAM!”

“ALRIGHT! Listen up you crazy lot!Get in line and get in the car and ya’all know the drill” Wei Wuxian dryly speaks into the megaphone to his drunk audience. While the cadets start to haul the gangs into the police van-

“THE ONLY THING I KNOW IS YOU TO GET DOWN FROM OUR POLICE CAR WEI WUXIAN YOU ASSHOLE!!”

“Relax Jiang Cheng, the night is young!”

“Fuck this.” Jiang Cheng heads back into the stripper bar and swipes a pricey cognac off and proceeds to chug it.

Just another day for YunMeng City Police. And for people to upload pictures of their favourite inspector on Weibo.

2.

“Okay. We’re done. Chopchop go go go. I have places to be, people to see, Salty Huang. Don’t let me see ya around so soon in here. “

“But you didn’t...even finish my statement,Inspector Wei?”

“Since when do criminals want to complete their charges??”

“...”

Jiang Cheng walks out of the interrogation room. He needs another coffee, black. Like his bleak life as it is now. Sometimes he wondered how they survived together as kids. Also through cadet school.

Oh wait. He didn’t. Barely.

3.

“Inspector Wei, apologies but I know you are going off duty soon but we need a statement from this guy who refuses to have it taken by anyone but you.Its regarding the weird drug circulating around the streets.  “

“Ehhh??? Can’t Ah-Liu or someone do it?I’m in a hurry!”

“He specifically asked for you. Sir. “

Wei Wuxian sulked and proceeds to throw off his coat and follows the sheepish cadet to the interrogation room.

Where a man in a black coat, a black top hat and two black tabby cats are awaiting. Wei Wuxian flops onto a chair opposite of the man but not before he switches off the surveillance cameras.

“Tsktsktsk. Tian ah. Your disguises are getting ridiculous each time,Bu Zhi. “

“Excuse me. These is called haute couture. Ask your roommate he will teach you a thing or two!” Bu Zhi huffs, flicking a fancy Chinese ornamental fan open and waves slowly in front of him.

“Its tacky. Thats what it is. Any way what is is this time? Did you swipe off another ancient emperor era painting or some tang dynasty vase from some rich prick or what?

“I collect ART,Wei Wuxian. And I was having my eye on an exquisite cultivator era painting of the Sunshot Campaign. But I will have you know, that during my...curating...I have overheard Wang LingJiao, the mistress of Wen Chao, bragging about some drug. That sounds suspiciously like your case.”

“Wang LingJiao? The hussy of the young underground lord of Qishan City?”

“You heard nothing. You have not seen me.”

“And your brother doesn’t know. Chill. HuaiSang. I plan to keep my best intel around. ”

4.

Jiang Cheng is about to get into his car and get ready for his day off. Which is starting in 5.08 minutes. He is going to get the coffee machine going and have a nice hot soak in the tub after another disastrous bar raid. He just bought new unicorn bath bombs and his lounge chair awaits-

“JIANG CHENG HELP LEMME USE YOUR CAR I’M LATE!”Wei Wuxian jumps in from the passanger side and tries to wedge his childhood friend/ teammate off the driver seat.

“YOU HAVE YOUR OWN GODDAMN CAR!”

“ITS NOT WORKING! I’M LATE AND I STILL HAVE THE CAKE TO COLLECT!”

“USE MY MOM’S?!”

“YOU WANT MADAM YU TO KILL ME?!”

“THEN MY DAD’S!HE LIKES YOU?!”

“HE WENT OFF TO BRUNCH WITH AN OLD FRIEND!”

“WE ARE CHINESE WE DON’T DO BRUNCHES?!WHAT HAPPENED TO GOOD OLD FRIED YOU TIAO AND SOYBEAN MILK?!”

“HIS FRIEND HAS BEEN WESTERNISED?!”

5.

“Something wrong with the coffee, FengMian?”

“Its nothing but excellent RuoHan. Just a sneeze is all.”

“Ah. Shame, Changze can’t join us today.After being in Europe for so long I miss my dear friends. I was so hoping for a reunion. ”

The leader of the China Gangsters sighs loftily while Jiang FengMian smiles. The country club is exclusive and only by invitation. The food is excellent.

6.

In the end, Jiang Cheng had to take a taxi back to his loft. His off day now delayed by 20.56 minutes.

7.

Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian crashes back into his apartment, cake in hand and takeout on the other.

Mo Xuanyu comes out of the toddler room to greet his roommate.

“Ah. Wei ge, you’re-“

“A-YUAAAAAN~! Happy birthday my boy! Come come lemme hug you!”

“-back”

Wei Wuxian grabs the babbling toddler from the tired design student who gladly leaves with a yawn.

“Oh my god I’m sorry I’m late XuanYu, your portfolio..?”

“Gonna go submit now. Pantry is stocked, Alcohol is in the fridge, laundry is done, your mala sauce is in the fourth shelf.Don’t do anything stupid...yawwwn...I’m going to school...meet Huai Sang for breakfast.”

“Don’t let that sneaky fox bring you weird places!”

Mo Xuanyu smiles and gives A-yuan a goodbye wave before he leaves the apartment.

Leaving both father and son to enjoy a peaceful morning.

8.

Over in Gusu City, another family breakfast is underway. Though quiet. With dishes more bland with sugarless tea.

Lan Qingheng quietly pours his wife more congee and observes his sons who partakes after their elders. Both talented and outstanding in their career in the force. Shame that none of them chose law but he is proud nevertheless. 

Madame Lan is pleased to have her family together, along with their extended relatives who lives together within the same district. Its rare especially with everyone’s tight schedules for the entire Lan family to gather for something so pure and simple.. Lan Qiren may have retired early but he still oversees the cadet school. Lan Xichen now leads the Gusu City police while Wangji is climbing the ranks as inspector.

It is indeed a rare peaceful morning-

“Wangji, since your birthday is around the corner, I thought you may like an early present.”

“Oh! Xichen is so considerate, what did you get your brother?”

“Well-“

A crash and a few minutes later, an ambulance is called for Senior Inspector Lan Qiren whose blood pressure spiked unnaturally.

9.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN I’M PROMOTED?!I HAVE TO MOVE TO GUSU?!”

Wei Wuxian drops back into reality the next day. In Superintendent Yu’s office.

“Exactly what I said. Starting next week, You will be working in Inspector Lan’s division.”

10.

In an upscale mansion in Gusu City, with a family picture and another of a selfie of a bright smiling teen and a younger him in cadet uniform adorning his minimalistic table in a rather minimalistic room. Also half a dozen of rabbits lying on top of him in a king sized bed, Lan Wangji is almost turning 30.He’s okay.

Not. ---

I don’t know where I’m going with this or why I even wrote this. I only had that one image of jiang fengmian and wen ruohan having brunch together and WWX being all suave and ridiculous on a cop car, thats literally it.

[junghelioseok]

relief.

↳ a celebration is in order.

   ◇ jungkook x reader    ◇ smut    ◇ 1.7k [1/1]

notes: whoever decided that periods should be a thing deserves to fall off a bridge. monthly bleeding blows. if you prefer to skip the light period-related humor, feel free to start reading below the break. ^^

also, i have such major issues writing kookie in smutty scenarios. like, he’s just a baby boy in my mind and i’m not sure how this filth even came about. i’m sorry. anyway.

It’s on a particularly lazy Saturday evening, deep blue and hazy, that you realize something wonderful. “I’m free!” you exclaim joyfully as you burst into the bedroom where your boyfriend is, drawing out the last syllable until you are short of breath. 

Jungkook is actually home for once, this weekend being one of those rare occasions where he’s both in Seoul and not at the studio with his members. Sleepy eyes crack open and he raises a brow at you from his spot on the bed where he had been dozing with his laptop beside him, the screen dark and forgotten. 

You flop down beside him unapologetically, bouncing up and down. “My period’s over, silly,” you inform him like it’s the most excellent thing in the world (which it probably is), bopping him on the nose cheerily. “Freedom at last!” 

He chuckles. “Sounds like we need to celebrate.” 

“Mm,” you hum, curling up against his side and burying your nose in the crook of his neck. One of his arms comes up to wrap around your shoulders and you sigh happily, nestling closer to the warmth of his body. “I’m just glad I can sit normally again.” 

“You know what I’m glad about?” he asks, a mischievous glint in his brown eyes. 

“Hmm?” You don’t see the wicked smirk Jungkook sends in your direction, but you certainly feel what he does next. His hand slides into the waistband of your sweatpants, finding its way to your clit. A gasp escapes you as he pinches it gently, turning into a moan as he teases your entrance with those devilish fingers. 

“I’m glad I can do this again,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your cheek. 

A breathless little laugh escapes you as he continues his ministrations. “It really must’ve been an agonizing time for you,” you joke, wriggling a little as a finger slides inside you. The sensation of being filled, combined with his thumb on your clit, sends your body into overdrive and you come undone with a gasp, collapsing back against the pillows. 

“Probably not as agonizing as it was for you,” Jungkook says as he withdraws his hand, looking very pleased with himself. 

You laugh. “Wait, are you talking about my period, or about not being able to have sex with you?” 

A grin. “Both.” 

You peck him on the cheek affectionately. “Sorry, Kookie, I like you a lot, but the last thing I want is a dick inside me when there’s blood coming out of my hoo-ha. Nothing personal.” 

“That’s fine,” he replies with an amused smile. “I’m starving. Want to order pizza?” 

“Sounds good to me. You know what we can do while we’re waiting for it to get here?” 

The wicked little grin he sends your way tells you that he knows exactly what you have in mind. 

///

Jungkook is finding it very difficult to concentrate on ordering dinner with your lips wrapped around his cock. It’s all he can do to keep his voice even as he speaks on the phone, silently cursing the technical difficulties that have rendered his favorite pizza place’s online ordering system useless. “Hi, I’d like to place an order for delivery?” 

You swirl your tongue around him gently, smirking when he hisses through his teeth. 

“Yesss, ah—c-could I get one medium sausage pizza with a side…” Jungkook trails off when he feels your mouth tighten around him, breath catching in his throat. “…side of breadsticks,” he grits out. 

Your tongue traces the vein running along the underside of his erection, tantalizingly slow. Jungkook struggles to focus on the voice on the other side of the line, barely processing what he’s being asked. 

“Sure. The address is…” He barely manages to string the numbers and street name together. Between his legs, you begin a leisurely bobbing rhythm, intent on driving him to the edge. “Yes. That’s all. Thanks, bye.” He ends the call as quickly as he can, dropping his phone and throwing his head back against the pillows as you increase your pace. Your fingers twist in the material of his pants, pushed down just enough to allow his cock to spring free. 

Just as he’s about to come undone, you suddenly pull away, regarding him with a wicked little smirk. “I’m impressed that you remembered your manners there, Jungkook,” you tease, rubbing circles into his thighs. 

He lets out a surprised huff, frustration lacing his voice. “That’s what you’re choosing to pay attention to right now?” 

You adopt a look of feigned innocence, as if your lips aren’t still slick with saliva and arousal. “Oh? Is there something more pressing that I should be attending to?” Ever so slowly, your hands inch closer to his erection, savoring the way his muscles tense underneath your fingertips. Carefully, you straddle his lap, hands coming to grip his shoulders as you grind down on him. 

Jungkook shakes his head and releases a breathless laugh, one hand resting on the small of your back as the other tilts your chin toward him, bringing you into a kiss. His languid tongue tangles with yours, and you can’t help the moan that escapes you. “Don’t you think you’re teasing me too much?” he murmurs, pulling away momentarily, his warm breath fanning your cheeks. “I already let you come once.” 

“That’s true,” you admit, trailing a hand through his hair lazily before planting a light kiss on his waiting mouth. “You’re always so good to me, Jungkookie.” 

He flashes you a little grin, the one that always reminds you of a rabbit. “So you’ll stop teasing me?” he questions, hands sliding down to your waist and toying with the hem of your shirt. 

You hum agreeably, trailing your lips along his jawline. “Mm. But you better take off your clothes before I change my mind.” 

“You first?” he requests boldly, and you grin, allowing him to tug your shirt up and off. 

“I suppose.” 

Jungkook makes quick work of your sweatpants as well, sliding them off your legs and tossing them to the ground. Before he can reach around to take off your bra, however, you stop him. 

“Later,” you say shortly, guiding his hands to his own shirt. Obediently, he pulls it off, revealing the hard, toned expanse of his chest and abs. You smooth your hands down his torso, reveling in the way his muscles twitch underneath your touch. Reaching the waistband of his jeans, still bunched up around his hips, you breathe, “Let’s get these off, too.” 

“Your wish is my command,” he murmurs, letting them slide off and onto the floor, leaving him bare underneath you. No matter how many times you see him like this, you aren’t sure you’ll ever grow used to the sight—tousled hair and flushed cheeks, his body pliant and ready. Your core aches at the sight. 

Your boyfriend seems to sense your body’s reaction to him, for his hands are on you again, unhooking your bra and peeling your damp panties away from your skin. “God, Jungkook…” 

“Yes, {Name}?” he asks, blinking innocently up at you. 

You don’t answer. Instead, you rock your hips sharply against him, pinning his cock between your swollen sex and his stomach, sliding wetly against the hard shaft in long, sensual drags. He lets out a strangled groan, fingers coming up to curl around your hips as you continue riding him, splaying your hands on his chest to maintain your balance. The pressure is beginning to build in the pit of your stomach, coiling like a spring. 

“I want to be inside you,” Jungkook rasps lowly, his heavy gaze fixed on the way you’re moving above him. He’s rolling his hips in time with you now, and with every stroke, the flared head of his length slides against your clit. You’re already sensitive from the first orgasm Jungkook gave you, and that, combined with his sinful declaration, is enough to make you weak in the knees. 

“God, yes. I want you inside me too,” you breathe, moaning as your core clenches around nothing, your body aching for release. The words have hardly left your mouth, when Jungkook is suddenly tilting you forward into his chest, his cock sliding inside and filling you to the brim. A choked moan escapes your lips at the sudden surge of fullness, and Jungkook can only groan harshly in response as you seize around him, mumbling half-coherent, fragmented praises about how good he feels. 

Your thighs are quivering now, unable to support your full weight as you grind against him. Jungkook seems to sense this, for his fingers tighten around the curve of your hips, holding you up as he begins rolling up fervently to meet you, lips parting with another low groan. 

“Kookie, kiss me,” you gasp out, fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape of his neck. 

He does. His lips crash against yours, all tongue and teeth and fire, swallowing down your moans and cries. Every push of his hips drives you closer to the edge, the hot, full weight of him dragging inside you setting your nerve endings alight. Your body trembles—tenses—and then you’re coming, clenching in spasms around Jungkook’s cock. His hips stutter slightly at the tightness, but he is persistent, relentlessly drawing out every bit of white-hot pleasure from you. 

You can no longer hold yourself up, folding over in exhaustion as Jungkook’s pace becomes sporadic, the wet draw of your body driving him to his own sweet release. Warmth floods you, and it’s all you can do to rock against him languorously, milking him for all he’s worth. He chants your name as he comes down from his high, dark eyes opening tiredly to regard you with satisfaction. 

“Ah, we really should do that more often.” 

Laughter bubbles up in your chest as you nestle against his sweaty, spent body. “It’s been less than a week since we last had sex,” you tell him pointedly. 

“That’s too long,” he responds immediately, giving you an impish grin. 

You open your mouth, about to retort, when there’s a loud knock at the door. “Go get the pizza,” you say instead, arching your back and stretching languidly underneath Jungkook’s heavy gaze. “Round two can commence after dinner.” 

You’re pretty sure you’ve never seen Jungkook move more quickly in your entire life.

[bigbanggot7stories]

Across the Hall Part 4

Hey guys! Here is the next part of the series, and I am so sorry about the wait! This one is a little shorter than the previous parts, but part 5 will be the last part of this story, and I wanted to have a little drama left for that part. I will hopefuly have that up by the end of the weekend! 

Thank you all for reading!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

----

The next morning, I woke up to a blinding sun, a pounding head, and a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Recalling the slightly drunken hookup in a supply closet the night before elicited emotions I tried desperately to reel back in. Though I promised myself I would keep it all contained while near Jiyong, my familiar bed seemed to encourage self-doubt and tears. I wiped my eyes, finally, and cursed myself for being such a baby as I made my way into the kitchen in search of any kind of pain relief medication for the awful headache.

I grabbed a water to try to calm my rowdy stomach and silently thanked God it was the weekend. I moseyed off towards my bedroom, more than ready to climb back into bed to sulk for the rest of the day, when my phone chimed at a message notification.

Unknown: Y/N…I’m sorry.

I bit my lip as I let my head fall backwards. Sorry for which part? Pulling me along across North America to “get to know me”? For leaving me high and dry and making me out to be some crazed fan? Or for fucking me in the janitor’s closet just for a quickie?

Me: For what, Jiyong?

Jiyong: For everything.

Jiyong: We probably shouldn’t have done...that last night.

Me: We? That? Is that what you constitute as everything?

Jiyong: No, but that is the most recent thing that comes to mind.

Jiyong: And also, as far as I remember, you were an active participant.

I bit my lip as I read his messages. He’s right: I have a thing for being intimate with Kwon Jiyong. Probably because I thought we had an important connection, but it apparently wasn’t reciprocated.

Jiyong: You’ve always been an active participant—from the day we met, if memory serves me right. Just in case you forgot.

Okay, that was definitely hurtful. I suddenly felt the urge to throw up, feeling as though I was being compared to a cheap hooker. Always willing, always down, always on her knees.

Me: Well I wish I hadn’t been. Guess I’m just too willing to give myself away.

Me: Thanks.

Me: Maybe working on the video is too close to home for you. I’ll have someone take over on Monday.

And with that, I shut my phone off and ran to the bathroom. The anxiety rising in my chest forced my stomach to empty, and I was soon dry heaving with nothing to give. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t work with Jiyong, no matter how advantageous to my career it would be. Did he really only think of me as an “active participant”? Maybe he only invited me on tour to fulfill his needs. “Get to know you better,” he said. “It gets lonely on tour.” Now, everything seemed to be presented in a new, different light. I felt the impending doom, the demons crawling up my spine once again to whisper all my previous doubts into my ear. I felt cheap. I sarcastically laughed at the excitement I had felt for being relocated to Seoul and for seeing Jiyong again. My life was a big joke, and I somehow had missed the punchline.

—

When Monday morning rolled around, I had managed to suppress every little ounce of emotion I had and put my game face on. It was the morning of the partnership meeting with YG, and I felt the immense pressure of cutting a deal no matter what. I decided I would stay true to my word and assign someone else to Jiyong’s video. I hadn’t thought too much about who I would place in charge, but I knew it had to be brought up in the meeting.

As I walked through the glass door of the main office, Mi Na rushed up to take the stack of paperwork I cradled in my arm. Looking up, I noticed the sour look she gave me as she ushered me into my office.

“Why haven’t you been answering your phone?! I’ve been trying to reach you to make sure you were ready for this meeting, and everyone keeps asking about your plans!” She rushed, closing my door with a loud thud.

“Okay first of all, my phone has been off all weekend, and I still haven’t turned it back on. Second, it’s none of their business what I have planned for the meeting. Negotiations never go as planned, and I’m not about to let people dictate how I run my business. And third, don’t slam my door. Only I get to do that.”  

My assistant sighed a response, hanging her head in apology, and I quickly sat down at my desk. I almost felt bad for being so stern with her—almost. I had spent most of the night before preparing for this meeting, but I wanted to make sure I was completely ready.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Anyways, here’s some messages from this morning and over the weekend. Apparently G-Dragon has been trying to contact you about design plans for a different project? I gave his assistant your personal email in case you hadn’t set up your work email from your home computer yet,” Mi Na rattled off, handing me a small stack of messages.

My eyes widened, and I opened and closed my mouth a few times with a lack of words. I turned my phone off for a reason, but I guess not having the last word for once really had an effect on Jiyong. I finally nodded and sat down to open my email. Mi Na left to make some copies, and I closely monitored the door while selecting the first email in my inbox with Jiyong’s handle.

—————

To: Ms. Y/N L/N

From: Kwon Jiyong – YG Entertainment

Subject: Designer in Red

Y/N,

I’m guessing you turned your phone off, and this is me hoping you will at least check your email more frequently—it is the professional thing to do.

I don’t want a new designer. I liked your ideas. If you wish to not work on further projects, that’s your call. I did, however, request you stay project leader for anything regarding me or BigBang activities in the expected partnership with YG. It would be quite beneficial to your career here in Korea if you remain related to my activities—not to brag.

I will be dropping by Tuesday to discuss further design proposals. Should we meet at your main office or your studio? I must say, your studio would be more comfortable and…private.

See ya,

Jiyong

P.s. Red looks really good on you—maybe you should wear some on Tuesday.

—————

My face and chest was majorly heated by the time I finished the email, and I felt light-headed. I was overwhelmed. Beneficial to my career? Future proposals? I suddenly had the urge to find a way to cut off any partnership, though I knew it was impossible.

Mi Na softly knocked on the glass door before clearing her throat. “Y/N, are you okay? You look flustered.”

“U-um yeah, can you grab me a glass of water really quickly? I feel a little hot.”

As Mi Na left to grab some water, I quickly sent Jiyong a reply.

—————

To: Kwon Jiyong – YG Entertainment

From: Ms. Y/N L/N

Subject: Re: Designer in Red

Jiyong,

I’m guessing you can’t stand not having the last word? Just because you’re used to getting everything you demand doesn’t mean I’ll be fulfilling orders.

I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m pretty sure a partnership with YG in general will benefit me, as I am the face of this company now—not to brag.

If you would like to meet Tuesday to go over designs, please make an appointment with my assistant, Mi Na, at our main office. My studio is a personal space not used for meetings unless I specifically ask or under extreme circumstances.

Thanks for your concern,

Y/N

P.s. I will wear nothing but bright yellow from now on.

—————

I sighed as I ran my fingers through my hair furiously. What was I going to do about Jiyong? He was so full of himself, so…not the Jiyong I had come to know and fall for. Why has he so suddenly flipped on me? I couldn’t think straight, and it was nearing the meeting time with YG.

How was I going to stand my ground now?

-

I flopped down on the studio couch as soon as my blazer hit the floor. The partnership with YG was signed and confirmed, yet my least favorable terms still stood. I was indefinitely tied to Jiyong, and I began to wonder if the adoption of my more valuable terms was worth it.

I kicked off my heels, leaving me in the dark blue dress that hugged my curves in all the right places, and I made my way to the kitchen. I knew there had to be a bottle of wine I had hidden somewhere in the cooler, and I was relieved to know my memory was still intact. As I made my way to the sitting area, the harsh buzzer of the door rang in my ears. Mi Na knew the code to get in—who was at the door? I glanced at my surroundings and quickly grabbed the nearest chisel to defend myself with as I slowly approached the security camera near the door.

My head dropped back as I recognized the suspect, sighing as I pressed the speaker button.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood and saw you go inside. Please open up, people are starting to stare.”

Jiyong pulled his hat down and his mask up as he looked over his shoulder timidly. I closed my eyes for a second before opening the door, walking straight back into the studio without a glance toward the man suddenly invading my life.

“Well hello to you, too,” he muttered.

“Are you sure you weren’t following me? It’s creepy, Jiyong.”

He visibly rolled his eyes, taking off his mask and hat as he sat on the couch across from me. “I wouldn’t follow you, that’s not my style. My friend just opened a gallery down the street. I was there and saw you come in and decided to stop by.” He eyed me for a moment before grabbing the glass of wine I had set out for myself. “I thought you were going to start wearing bright yellow—I was looking forward to it.”

I rolled my eyes, but the pink running up from my chest to my neck gave away my true reaction. “Sure, would you like a glass of wine?” I sarcastically waved him off as I drug myself back to the kitchen for another glass. “Sorry to disappoint. Blue isn’t good enough for you?”

“Actually, blue is hot, too. Just being completely honest here, any color looks pretty hot on you.”

A gasp shuddered out of me as I whipped around to glare at Jiyong. What was he doing to me?

He held his hands up in playful defense. “Sorry, I was just being honest, here.”

I shook my head as I reached for a second glass, trying to control the emotions that were trying to rise up. “I don’t know if that’s appropriate, Mr. Kwon. If you’re here to talk about designs, then let’s talk about designs.”

“Why are you being so cold?”

“Why do you think, Jiyong? Every time I’m around you it doesn’t end well.”

Jiyong drew a sharp breath before picking up his wine glass and joining me in the kitchen. “I’m not here to talk about designs, Y/N. I’m just here to see you. I for one didn’t think last time ended all that badly,” he spoke quietly, almost as if he was the shy boy I met on the 18th floor of a fancy hotel last summer.

“You don’t think fucking me and then leaving before I could even get my pants back up my legs was good? Maybe it was from your perspective, but it sure had me feeling pretty cheap,” I bit, trying to focus on pouring another glass of wine, my eyes on the verge of betraying me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—I’m sorry. I was kind of upset with myself. You deserve better than a gross supply closet in a barbecue restaurant.”

I was suddenly highly aware of the closing space between Jiyong and I, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted him to leave me be or to fuck me here on the kitchen counter. One thing I had never understood was the driving force that always lead to me being underneath Kwon Jiyong. I rolled my eyes, but inside I was wondering why he had become so moody. It made me think back to the New York show, when I had been the moody one, and Jiyong had just sat back and taken the insults I had thrown. They weren’t directly towards him, nor were they even true, but he had let me throw a tantrum after an obviously bad phone call with a client. Once I had quit pacing the room and taken a deep breath, Jiyong had silently pulled me into his arms and kissed my shoulder. That night was the first night I had realized I didn’t quite feel like we were “just fucking” anymore, and I had thought I could tell from his eyes that Jiyong was starting to feel the same. I sighed, letting a bitter chuckle fall at the memory.

“What’s so funny?” Jiyong’s voice whispered in my ear.

I jumped as his hands came to caress my hips, his chest ever so slightly grazing my back. I could almost feel him, and the muscles in my back seemed to tense one by one as he snaked his hands around my waist. My inner mind, deep, deep down, was screaming at my brain to shake him off, to reel it back in. My body, on the other hand, had a mind of its own. His right hand started to rake up my body, only stopping when strands of my hair were wrapped tightly between his fingers. My mind blanked, and my head fell back as I closed my eyes. I let out a soft groan from the slight pain his small tug on my hair brought, and I had totally forgotten the emotions I had felt just a minute before. Fuck him, he knew I loved having my hair pulled.

“I miss you Y/N. I miss fucking you,” he whispered, grinning against my neck as my hips jolted backwards towards him. My hands clenched around the wine bottle I had previously been trying to re-cork. “And judging by how eager you were to fuck the other night…” his voice was muffled as he moved his lips up my neck to circle my ear lobe.

“What?” I breathed, not catching his last few words.

“I want to fuck you again, Y/N. No strings attached.”

[aion-rsa]

Warrior Season 2 Episode 9 Review: Enter the Dragon

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This Warrior review contains spoilers.

Warrior Season 2 Episode 9

Enter the Dragon was Bruce Lee’s most significant film and is regarded as one of the greatest martial arts films of all time. It was the first major Hollywood and Hong Kong co-production, and it also became one of the most profitable films of all time. Tragically, Lee didn’t live to see its success. He died a month prior to the premiere of Enter the Dragon. For Warrior to evoke Lee’s masterpiece, this episode better be good.

The significance of the title isn’t lost on Warrior’s head writer Jonathan Tropper. “My favorite movie to watch is probably Enter the Dragon,” claims Tropper, “just because I feel that is when production values caught up with what [Lee] was doing. Some of the production value on the earlier movies, certainly the versions that I’ve been able to see, are a little bit sketchy and Enter the Dragon felt like it was the moment in time where his choreography and what he was doing actually was supported by the production values. And he obviously had a lot of creative control over that movie.”

Thankfully, this episode doesn’t disappoint. It delivers the culmination of so many story arcs from Season 2 in the biggest blow out fight scene that Warrior has attempted so far, a sanguineous depiction of one of California’s darkest moments in history, the San Francisco Riot of 1877. 

The cold open backtracks the ending of the previous episode where Jacob (Kenneth Fok) relives killing the Mayor to save Penny (Joanna Vanderham). They both realize that even though he was defending her, a Chinaman who killed the mayor will be sentenced to death, so Penny gives him money and tells him to run for the train to San Jose. But Jacob stops to visits his ailing mother first. She’s bedridden in a Chinatown flop house. He gives her some medicine and most of the money Penny gave him, telling her that he’ll be away for a few days. But when he goes back out on the streets, the delay was costly. The cops are looking for him, so he hides out in a filthy storage basement with rats, eating scraps and drinking rainwater. When the cops inevitably head towards his hideaway, he escapes to Chao’s (Hoon Lee) place which is where we left him at the end of last episode. 

Chao is conflicted. At first, he refuses to help Jacob, thinking it’s too big. But then he changes his mind after Chao flashes his remaining wad of cash. Then he gives Jacob his money back and tells him to hide in a coffin being shipped back to China. The plan seems feasible, but O’Hara (Kieran Bew) finds him right away. But Lee (Tom Weston-Jones) is suspicious of O’Hara’s bust. After he deducted that O’Hara set up Zing (Dustin Nguyen), their trust is broken. O’Hara claims Buckley (Langley Kirkwood) tipped him off, but later Mei Ling (Dianne Doan) tells Chao that he did the right thing turning over Jacob. Chao feels conflicted again because he betrayed his word and says he took money from Jacob. 

While transporting Jacob in their paddy wagon, the SFPD cross into an Irish neighborhood. Tully (Patrick Buchanan) riles up the Irishmen and a mob gathers in the street. They beat down the cops and break into the paddy wagon. It’s right in front of the Banshee where Sophie (Celine Buckens) wakes up, having sought refuge after the Mayor’s death with Leary (Dean Jagger). They hear the commotion outside and Leary rushes to save O’Hara from the mob. Jacob is lynched. Sophie tries to stop it but is also beaten. Leary rescues her from the mob and takes her back in the Banshee. “There will be more men dead before the day is done,” say Leary, “This is a goddamn reckonin.’’ Leary casts Sophie out, telling her she was nothing more than a tourist there. 

The lynching stokes their blood lust so the Irish march on Chinatown and all hell breaks loose. It gets bloody and brutal quickly – a full out gang war. Ah Sahm (Andrew Koji) and Young Jun (Jason Tobin) stare in horror at the violence. They send Hong (Chen Tang) to rally the Hop Wei. The Long Zii comes to their side, unifying both tongs against the Irish raid. Hong welcomes Li Yong (Joe Taslim) with a ‘hey” and a friendly nod. The four gangsters charge into battle and the choreography is ruthless. Soon everyone is splattered with blood or dead.

After losing Jacob, Lee followed the crowd with O’Hara and the rest of the paddy wagon police escort trailing grudgingly behind him. Lee finds Tully and after a rough fight, he shoots him multiple times, even after he’s dead. Chao flees with Mai Ling to hide in Ah Toy’s (Olivia Cheng) brothel.

They find Ah Toy with one huge bodyguard. She’s seriously wounded from last episode. Mei Ling stitches up Ah Toy, telling her that she learned how when she was married to a warlord back in China. “From a warlord’s wife to a warlord herself,” says Ah Toy, “Why are you helping me?” The rivals have a heart to heart and find some common ground in their journeys. “We both do terrible things,” says Ah Toy, “All because neither of us is ever going to go back to what we were.” Such is the plight of immigrants. They face incalculable hardships because the life they left behind was even worse.  

Then it happens. Finally, we have nunchucks. A Chinese man tries to repel a huge rioter with some nunchucks but the rioter gets them. But then Ah Sahm gets hold of them and the ensuing martial mayhem is lit. After dispatching several rioters, Ah Sahm turns to the original nunchuck wielder and asks, “Can I borrow these?”

In the following melee, Koji’s martial skill really shines. He delivers some of his best fight sequences so far with generous nods to Bruce Lee’s signature nunchaku displays while expressing his own flair with the flails. It’s an extremely satisfying moment, something Warrior fans have been waiting for since the show began. 

Meanwhile, Chao defends the brothel against rioters in some bloody knife and stick fights. This episode has the highest body count yet. Young Jun fights viciously in amidst some sheets hanging to dry that conveniently catch dramatic blood splatter. After dispatching numerous rioters, he gets pinned down at gun point. But just as the trigger is about to be pulled, the gunman gets a hatchet to the head from Father Jun (Perry Yung). Father and son fight side by side, and Young Jun watches admiringly as his dad mercilessly dispatches more rioters. 

Meanwhile, back at the mayoral manor, Sophie comes home to Penny to tell her Jacob is dead. “The entire world’s gone mad” says Sophie. “No. This is the world,” replies Penny. The police reinforcements finally arrive in Chinatown to quell the rioters. The Banshee is filled with wounded. Leary is one of the only characters who was not involved in the riot and remains unscathed. Everyone else is covered in bruises and blood. Ah Sahm, Young Jun and Hong come to collect Jacob’s body. O’Hara stops them with his shotgun at first, and then allows them to cut Jacob down. 

As Ah Sahm carries Jacob’s body away in slow motion, he and Leary lock eyes staring each other down for an inevitable showdown. Will their confrontation be next week’s Season finale? 

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[spectrumscribe]

Ordinary she is not.

For the April for April monthly prompt courtesy of @tmntflashfic, I present a collection of snippets and drabble prompts for everyone’s viewing; regarding canon events and how April coped and grew with each one. Because April’s character was just too multifaceted to restrict to a single story.

May the next incarnation of TMNT utilize this amazing girl better than 2012 did.

-------------------------------------------------

That’s no longer relevant.

April looks at books she hasn’t read in ages, clothes too flimsy and light for combat, and makeup and jewels she never has time to use. Most of these things she hasn’t spared a glance at in months.

Her sword and fan lay on her desk, along with her jumpsuit and armor. They’re waiting for her to finish up, and then for her to don them and escape into the night. Her friends wait for her there, and she just needs to finish cleaning out her room so she can join them.

April moves items that used to mean everything to her into a box for give-away, and closes the lid on what her younger self had imagined to be valuable.

 He can’t do that to us.

“He can’t do that to us, right?” April asks, shooting a look at the four brothers as master Splinter shuts the dojo doors. With him out of the room, her frustration is free to be expressed. “I mean. More specifically, can’t do that to me. He’s not my dad. He can’t ground me, right?”

“I think he just did,” Donnie says with an awkward, apologetic smile. Leo shrugs, and maintains a similar expression; while Raph just grumbles along with Mikey.

April throws her hands up in the air, and slumps onto the lair couch morosely. “I blame all of you. I wanted to see that movie.”

“Me too,” Mikey sighs in agreement, flopping dramatically onto the couch with her.

“And yet, you were the one who let slip we were going to it,” Leo points out, sitting down with less drama than Mikey, but with an air of disappointment regardless.

“I forgot, alright? Besides, can you blame me for getting excited? The original version of Akira, playing in a theater, like, not even twenty blocks from here!”

Raph whacks Mikey’s shoulder as he and Donnie join the pile of disappointed teenagers, and Mikey whines wordlessly about the punishment.

April just sighs, and tries to remember when she agreed to having a second parent in her life.

 Why did you shift the tone?

April just wanted to have a nice dinner out with an admittedly cute girl who’d helped her out with a vending machine. Not this. Because this is definitely not what she intended to happen, but someone is insisting on being what April can only describe as a flirt.

She feels her heart stutter every time Harmony looks over, or smiles, or tilts her head just right and her bangs fall out of place. And the way Harmony wears a too big jacket and makes it look as flattering as an evening gown, and the perfectly sharp eyeliner that should clash but doesn’t, is just driving April crazy.

April focuses very hard on keeping her words steady and her eyes from staring at Harmony’s lips. It’s a hard thing to do, especially once they leave the restaurant and Murakami’s slight barrier between them.

April O’Neil has a quiet sexuality crisis for about two hours, and doesn’t know what to do with it even afterwards. She never really thought about girls like that, but oh does she now. She definitely does now.

Even after Harmony turns out to be Karai, and tries to kill her, April very guiltily admits that yeah, she’s still cute. Foot clan ties and all.

 I ache all over.

“Ninjutsu sucks,” April proclaims, lying on the floor of the dojo and not even caring about appearances anymore. Everything hurts and she is never moving again.

“Welcome to the club,” Mikey says in an only half mocking tone, slumped against the random tree the family has growing in here. Seriously, April doesn’t understand why or how the tree is here. But it is.

“Diligence is rewarded with… something,” Leo says, clearly trying to start a leaderly speech, but also clearly too tired to do so. “Wait I know this one, hold on.”

“Everyone stop talking, I’m trying to die in peace,” Donnie mutters belligerently from his position splayed on the floor. Raph grunts an agreement, and makes no move otherwise from his spot beside Donnie.

“Sucks,” April says with more emphasis, because when she signed up for ninja training, she did not think it would include six hour plus sessions of pure and utter agony.

 Let’s wait for them.

“Can we just give up and leave them?” Mikey asks April, once the second hour rolls by.

April scans the alien market they were- not lost in, just momentarily confused by- checking again for any sight of Leo and Raph. “No, I’m pretty sure we still need them.”

Mikey makes a drawn out sound of annoyance, and flops his head backwards against the bench they’re on. “Oh my god, how hard is it to get one measly electro-converter-whatever?”

“Apparently hard enough it takes two plus hours,” April says dryly, shielding her eyes to the blinding three sun sky. Why was it always desert planets lately; she had sand in places she never wanted to.

Something catches her eye, and April turns her search towards it. Then she grimaces.

“Uh oh,” She says.

“Why the ‘uh oh’?” Mikey asks in a wary voice.

“Uh oh because it looks like the deal went bad,” April says, grimacing further as she watches the two brothers try to run through the thick crowd. Their pursuing enemies look really angry, and April isn’t eager to find out why.

Mikey doesn’t move from his slump, apparently unbothered by the turn of events. “Welp, can’t say I didn’t expect that one. Should we wait for them to escape, or help ‘em out?”

April watches the way Leo and Raph scurry through the throngs of people, Leo carrying the engine part they need for the ship. None of them aliens pursuing them have drawn weapons yet, but April doesn’t like the look of the swords on their backs.

“Let’s wait for them to escape,” April says, leaning back and pulling up her hood. They’re both tucked into their sand-resistance cloaks, and seem innocuous to the aliens passing by. Hopefully. “If they can’t shake them in five minutes, we’ll intervene.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mikey agrees, still not bothering to even lift his head.

 It wasn’t very convincing.

April grins for her aunt, and swears it’s just a self-defense club. That’s why she’s asking for money to buy new workout clothes, and why she’s been keeping such weird hours.

She conceals the guilt of having to lie about her friends, about her father, and about why she comes home with bruises and cuts not caused by training. She tells her aunt that the self-defense club is because she’s still shaken up about losing her dad, and can’t handle being unable to defend herself anymore.

It’s partially a lie, that explanation. April is past being shaken, and moved onto being angry. So very angry.

She conceals that anger too, and smiles for her aunt every time she asks about her martial arts.

April keeps things vague, and knows that it’s not as half convincing as she needs it to be.

 It went to dark places.

She listens to his half mumblings and shrieking shouts and shuddering, slow breaths as he calms down, and sometimes wonders if she really saved her dad at all.

Kirby O’Neil is not the man he was, and April O’Neil isn’t the girl she was either. Neither of them are the same anymore; and hearing the pained, distressed sounds her dad makes in the dead of night, trying so hard to cope with the things he endured for her, breaks April’s heart in ways she hadn’t thought it could still break.

The sound of her father breaking down takes April along with him, because she can’t stop the vague connection of empathy she has. Her powers are still something new, and she doesn’t have enough control yet to completely shut everything out. Including the strangling, terrifying fear and despair that sometimes grips her father.

Even if she knows that he’ll recover, stand back up and smile like none of this happened at all, and go to work the next day like any other normal dad- the anxiety attacks and night terrors still drag April down. Down into visions of metallic cells and cold restraints and dark things that make her fear spike without fail, and she struggles to pull herself free each time.

 We like the darkness.

April doesn’t know if she was ever afraid of the dark. Maybe as a small child she’d been, but now, she dances through it without fear.

After all, her closest friends dwell there, and she’s learned the shadows better than the light.

And as she does, she learns how to melt into it, to make it a part of her very being. Learns what shadows can hide her wholly, and how to make them cling to her like a second skin.

Her four friends, strange and otherworldly as they are, are much better at this than her. A lifetime of experience makes them masters at something April has just begun to take into herself.

It doesn’t bother her often, because she’s far too busy racing with the night wind and playing training games in the slanted dark of each street.

 I was ready to go.

April glances back at the farm house, thinking about the temporary peace it’s given them all the last few months. But also, about how the basement had held secrets she wasn’t ready to learn, and how those secrets weigh on her still.

It’d been a place to hide and heal their wounds, a beat of quiet in a time of raging wars and hard losses, but it had also slowly become a place where the walls felt too tight. So tight and cramped that April had wondered if they were getting smaller by the day. The six of them all but snarling at one another some days, when cabin fever became too much and there wasn’t enough room in the world for them to feel comfortable with their lives. A sanctuary that had slowly turned prison.

“Are you ready to go?” Donnie asks, calling over from the Party Wagon. They’re all piling in, food and weapon supplies already inside and locked down for the drive. Casey honks the horn once, and the other boys shout at her as well.

April smiles, shakes her head, and starts towards them. Turning her back on all the things she doesn’t want to linger on any more than she has. “Ready when you guys are.”

 We all talk about it.

Sometimes, when one or more of them hit a wall and just can’t anymore-

April, and her five closest, (only), friends will sit down in a great big pile, and just talk.

Especially after they lose the earth, and they drift through space and galaxies, someone will have a nightmare or an anxiety attack or just a bad day in general; and so they all react accordingly.

Sometimes it’s April’s turn for those. Bad moments where everything is just too much and too heavy, and she’ll just want to curl up and not be. Those moments are made so much easier, because she has five willing ears to listen to her, and she pays them the same affection.

Sometimes she talks about her dad, about the Kraang, about being something that’s neither human nor alien. And they listen, and she listens to them.

They talk about the Shredder, and what he’s done and taken. They talk about how they miss home, and how they miss things from before. Maybe they weren’t as close back then, because trauma and war ties people together tighter than anything, but they’d had less to worry about. To fear.

They talk about master Splinter, they talk about April’s father and aunt, they talk about Casey’s own father and sister, and they talk about the mutant allies they’ve made. They talk about who they count as their family.

They talk, and it makes things easier. And then they keep going, until the next time one of them needs this.

 Can we kiss you?

“Can… can we kiss you?” April asks tentatively, because this is really, really weird if she’s honest with herself. Even by their standards.

Donnie blinks, eyes darting between April and Casey on his other side, and the way they’re all a little too close to be platonic. No one else is in the room, Donnie’s brothers taking their turns for a sleep cycle while the three of them keep watch of the ship.

Or. They’re supposed to be. They’re doing this instead.

“Uh…” Donnie glances between them both again, looking confused and lost. “Both of you?”

“That is the plan,” Casey confirms, and April can sense the nervousness squirming in his aura. They’ve all been dancing around this for a long time, and now, with space from the earth, lost in literal space as they try to catch up with the timeline, they can’t dance any longer.

Donnie’s eyes widen, and his lips purse in the anxious way they always do. “I. I’m not really sure how to respond to that?” His words turn into a question, as he shifts uncomfortably on the sofa between them. “I mean, um, I wouldn’t be- be upset if you did, but are you sure-?”

“Yes,” April says, and cuts Donnie off by catching him in a messy kiss. She used to take her time deciding her actions, but these days you just did or didn’t, and chances passed by in blurs. They have this moment alone, finally, and she’s going to seize it before it’s gone.

It’s probably wrong, what she and Casey are trying to make happen. But monogamy is for ordinary people, and the three of them are anything but that.

April watched an entire world die, and then went back in time to save it. She can handle a little thing like having two boyfriends, who happen to be boyfriends with each other.

When April leans away from their kiss, Donnie’s staring at her with a sort of awe that makes her insides warm pleasantly. He’s been giving her that look for so long, and now she feels she’s returning it.

Of course, Casey breaks the moment they’re having, and April can only smile in amusement as he and Donnie start something that’s both a kiss and an argument at the same time.

She winds her hand into Donnie’s, as he and Casey break apart to stare at one another like the quarreling yet affectionate idiots they are. April gives Donnie a grin as she leans across his lap, and meets Casey at the halfway point for a kiss just between them.

The look on Donnie’s face is shy but attentive, and he watches them the whole time. It makes the exchange all the more exciting.

Things get a bit blurry from there, but April finds she doesn’t mind that at all.

 Can we shoot them?

“I’m just saying-”

“No, April.”

“-if we shot them, this would be over,” April says, pointing her laser gun at the captured aliens they have. “Seriously, we could just go ho- back to the ship if we shot them. Like, one blast for each of them, and I wouldn’t miss from a point blank range so it’d be a quick death-”

“April!” Leo scolds, giving her a wide eyed look. “We’re not shooting them! Jesus!”

“It’d destroy their connection with the machine!” April says, waving her gun and free hand at the giant whirling death machine they accidentally got tangled up with. How many plots for world destruction could one universe hold anyways? This was ridiculous.

“We’re waiting for Donnie and the professor, and we are not shooting people.”

April threw her hands up. “Oh my god, literally just one shot each, and then this’d all be over-”

“April!!”

“Fine! God!”

 These people are ridiculous.

April can’t help the laughter that comes out of her nose, and struggles to not swallow her now burning drink down the wrong hole. Her laughter is half snorted, and she coughs as she keeps going anyways.

Leo’s embarrassed shouting is barely heard over the howling laughter of everyone else; Mikey’s cheeky, completely unrepentant smile only egging both reactions on. April’s lost the thread of conversation between them now, but the growing noise serves to bolster her laughter anyways.

She’s returned to this, after weeks of fiercely refusing to see any of them, and it feels as though she never left. They’re all here, even with the new addition of Casey to their group, sitting around a kitchen table and eating a combination of pizza and Japanese takeout. Like nothing ever drove them apart; like there wasn’t a period of heavy, furious tension at all.

April has walked out of the lair so many times, away from it and the bizarre family living here, and once swore it would be the last time.

And yet.

Here she is, warm and welcome and laughing so hard her sides are aching. Accepted back even after the things she’d screamed at them, and finding herself having well and truly forgiven her friends.

The four brothers and their father, they always seem to accept her back, bring her home, no matter what happens. That sort of unfaltering loyalty astounds and warms April, and she can’t help but think how ridiculous it is that they would give so much of it to her.

April’s laughter, shared with four and now five people who seem to stand by her no matter what, makes her feel lighter than it has in weeks, and she hopes to never fall so low again.

 It’s not fair at all, is it?

April tries not to think about it too much. Dwelling on anything that makes her upset is dangerous these days, trapped in the farm house while Leo sleeps and New York burns. She knows her powers are growing, and the plate she accidentally threw across the room just yesterday - without even looking at it, let alone touching it- says all that needs to be said. If she lets her thoughts get too loud, too angry, she’s not sure what will happen.

But it’s not fair.

She’d just gotten her dad back, her life on track again, and now he’s gone and so is master Splinter. So are her aunt and every friend she has in school. All of them. Gone. Warped into mindless creatures or- or-

Or presumed dead.

April hunches her shoulders, and tries not to drown in anger and sorrow as she makes lunch. Because cracking the salad bowl in two won’t help anything, or alleviate the ever louder chant in her mind that it’s not fair, why me, why always me, it’s not fair.

But things haven’t been fair for her in a long, long time, and that knowledge gives her no comfort. Just a grim reminder of how things are, and will be for the foreseeable future.

 Are you crying?

April wakes up a day later, after That Night, and doesn’t want to.

She doesn’t go back to sleep though, because what’s waiting there could be even worse.

She doesn’t bother dressing, because she isn’t going out. She’s taking sick leave from school and training, and trying so hard not to feel the absent weight around her neck.

She makes herself breakfast, listless and not actually hungry, and finds herself reaching for a necklace she doesn’t have. To toy with it, like it really was a harmless pendant.

There’s nothing there, and she drops her hand. Ashamed.

She eats tasteless instant oatmeal, and barely finishes the meal. She doesn’t have any real appetite, not with the images and sensations still rising up her mind in unwanted, stinging flashes of memory.

It’s still raining. The windows of her apartment are streaked with it. The rain has just kept falling and falling, ever since…

Ever since the night she killed Donnie, and attempted to do the same to the rest of their family.

That thought remains lead like and suffocating on April’s consciousness, and it’s why she’s here at home. Because she doesn’t trust herself yet to look her friends in the eye, and not break.

But also because… she still wants the crystal back.

The sensation of Power, roiling and endless, still tingles at the tips of her fingers. The voice of Za’naron remains in her head, an echo of the alien’s soothing, sinking, strangling influence on her mind. The scene of her powers, her powers, tearing her best friend apart plays on repeat in her memories, and April feels heavy with exhaustion and guilt.

But outside of that guilt, that exhaustion, the feeling wanting remains. And April feels like the worst person in the world for that.

“April?”

April doesn’t have to turn around from the window to know it’s her dad. She’d felt him moving through her ambient senses long before he’d approached the living room.

“April, honey… are you crying?” Her dad asks, stepping further into the room.

April blinks, and hastily wipes away a few tears that escaped without her permission. “No,” She says, forcing her voice to remain steady. She can’t burden her dad with yet another one of her problems. “No, it’s just the rain. I’m fine, dad.”

Her dad seems pale, paler than he usually is these days, and a stricken emotion crosses his face. April can feel his concern, his worry, and she can’t bring herself to look at it too closely.

Her dad crosses the room, and with gentle care, pulls her into a hug. Its warmer than how April feels- which is cold, cold and hollow without the burning power she’d held just hours ago- and she lays her head against her dad’s shoulder.

She’s so tired of this. So tired of tragedies and fights and seeing her friends get hurt.

She’s so tired.

Her dad strokes a hand down her back, and April closes her eyes as he murmurs to her. “I know you don’t want to tell me what’s happening, but please know I’m here for you. Whenever you want to talk, I’ll listen, April.”

April tries to suppress the emotion welling up in her, and only barely does.

She wants to talk about it… but she also just wants it to disappear. She wants the nightmarish experience of killing her own friend to fade into nothingness, and for everyone to forget the time April lost herself in her own powers. She wants the memories, Za’naron, and the crystal gone forever.

April carefully bundles up her grief and tears, and pushes them far, far into the back of her mind.

“Thanks, dad,” April says quietly. “But I don’t have anything to talk about.”

Nothing at all.

Her father doesn’t have anything to say to that, and just holds her tighter.

It takes another few days, meditating on and off to fold the frayed edges of her powers and mind up and away…

…tucking the worst parts into themselves, hiding them so far inside her mind not even she can find them anymore…

…and then April can wake up again, and smile, and go on about her day like nothing ever happened.

She picks up her sword, her fan, and sweeps her hair back into a ponytail. She heads out into the night, and steps placidly over the still ongoing repairs to the lair.

She ignores the sideways glances she gets from her friends, and keeps complete and total iron control of her abilities.

She smiles.

And there’s not a tear in sight.

 It made no sense.

It made exactly zero sense to April, sometimes. How Leo will constantly say “Sorry April, ninjas only.”

Like she’s any less of a ninja. Like all her hours and hours of training mean nothing. Like she hasn’t spent the last year plus working her literal ass off to keep up with them, and damn near succeeding sometimes, despite their very large gap in years to learn ninjutsu. She’s done everything they’ve done, faced the same dangers and enemies as they have, with half the weapons and less than half the experience.

And yet.

“Sorry April, ninjas only,” Leo says, limping along like he didn’t still have a bum leg or needs help walking when he strains himself, like she hasn’t put her all into keeping their family afloat and together while he slept, like she doesn’t deserve to have a mystical ninjutsu camping trip too. And then they all just leave, and April has to stand by and watch their shells disappear and ends up going and breaking the skin on her knuckles pounding those stupid planks right after.

And she still fumes through the night, the next, and the next, until the day they walk back out of the woods.

April may have been imagining Leo’s face, the moment she finally broke the board right down the middle.

 I was in love with them all.

Originally, April had imagined herself to not fall for anyone easily, if at all. People and relationships were just such a hassle, and she had her schoolwork. She’d thought she didn’t need anyone.

But then there’d been Donnie, and then there’d been a certain kunoichi masquerading as a normal teen, and then there’d been Casey, and before she’d turned out to be a spying robot, there’d been Irma…

At some point or another, or even currently, April had felt something dangerously close to love for each of them. Or at least slightly off-kilter attraction, mostly inspired by the desire to simply beat a certain someone at their shared profession. (She hasn’t gotten her yet, but April would give Karai her just desserts one day. Some day. Maybe a kiss too-)

April’s brain fizzles, and she hunches a little more over the lair’s kitchen table.

Ooh boy.

She needs to slow down on the crush accumulation. Seriously. Two boys are enough; adding a highly trained and girl of dubious morales to the roster isn’t necessary. Even if said girl pulls off armor like high fashion and somehow never has her makeup out of place and god dammnit did Karai sometimes make April want to wipe that smirk off her face forcibly through a furious sort of kiss-

April makes something close to a whine, and covers her head with her arms; feeling quite sorry for herself and her late blooming bisexuality, with the addition of the inability to just choose someone.

“What’s botherin’ you tonight, April?” Mikey asks, flipping a few midnight pancakes on the stove. “You feelin’ sick?”

“I’m dying,” April mutters miserably.

“…huh. That’s a shame.”

April groans again at her friend’s lack of serious sympathy, and thunks her head against the table top.

God. Dammnit.

 Does anyone really want the ordinary?

April O'Neil isn't an ordinary girl in any sense. Hasn’t been for a long time.

Not since the night she fell into an alien conspiracy, and gained the strangest friends she could ever imagine. Not since she picked up a weapon, and decided she liked the sense of power and thrill that came with ninjutsu. Not since she spent the formative years of her teenagehood fighting one war after another, and somehow managing to still have teenage drama throughout it.

She isn't an ordinary girl at all, and she thinks that's fine by her.

 None of it mattered.

More often than not these days, April looks at her assigned schoolwork and just… can’t see the point of it.

College preparation used to be so important to her. Getting good grades and impressing her teachers used to rank close to the top of her priorities. She used to spend hours and hours studying, and love every second.

But now she’s seen and done so much more than those things. She’s fought crime lords and ninjas, aliens and mutants; defeated each one and come out of the fights even stronger. She’s learned how to manage finances and budgets and a household, lest she and her friends have starved while they were without parents those three months so long ago. She’s been to the edge of the universe and back again, and won’t ever be able to forget the other worlds out there, the other possibilities.

Looking at her math and history assignments, April can’t shake the feeling that it doesn’t really matter. Not in the grand scheme of things, and not to her.

Not for the first time, April wonders just how she’ll ever be able to live a normal life, now that she’s experienced the extraordinary.

 They know how to do this.

After master Splinter passes, after they made sure the Shredder would never hurt anyone ever again, and after they returned home to a home that felt empty…

April realizes with a heavy heart, that they know how to do this.

They know how to grieve, and they know how to move on. It’s happened to them before, the loss of the brothers’ father and April’s second parental figure. They’ve seen him die too many times, and now…

April hurts, bone deep and then to her very soul, and yet… feels almost numb.

There’s a gravestone this time, and that may be the only difference from all the others.

Splinter’s death flashes before her eyes often, the powerless moment she’d had watching the blades emerge from his torso. The world shattering second between feeling as though they might have finally won, and the moment she’d known they’d instead lost.

She feels grief, and sorrow, and regret for not being strong enough to save her second father figure. She wades through those emotions, and mires in nightmares and flashbacks that come to her in bad moments.

But more so than that, the feeling of vicious triumph of the Shredder’s death come to her, and April is far past being unsure if she likes it or not. She’s seen and done this more times than she ever should have, and she knows how to deal with it. Knows how to handle the balance of welling grief and whirling fury at losing someone so dear.

They all do, these days. The brothers and Casey and her. They’ve done the song and dance of losing someone so vital to their family twice before, and perhaps the greatest relief is that this will be the final time.

April hopes so. She’s not sure if she could do it a fourth time over.

 I have the sun.

A sun burns inside April. It grows brighter all the time, and sometimes she wondered if it would swallow her.

And then it did, for a single night, and she tore apart herself and someone she loved. It’d raged and roiled and burned her from the inside out. With the voice of a fallen angel ringing in her ears, screeching and singing and urging her on, April had lost herself in the torrent of white hot power.

And then she’d come back, the sun inside her not extinguished, but doused enough that she was herself again.

And just as that burning, ever growing sun had dimmed, she’d fanned its flames and torn apart reality one more time. To bring him back.

The power to change reality as she saw fit, it’s a dangerous, terrible power. Forged in her from the moment she’d been born, and designed to be used as a weapon by creatures that’ve done nothing but hurt her family since before she’d even existed. Yes she could use it to protect her family, her new one made of odd and wonderful people, but the things she’s been used to do already, the things she’s been forced to commit…

They weigh heavy on her, as heavy as the pool of energy inside her body. The one that feels like an ocean sometimes, and one she has yet to see the bottom of. An ocean of fire and white energy, bigger and brighter than April herself ever will be.

She’s scared of it. She worries about it. She loves the feeling of it. She can never let it tempt her again.

April has a sun inside her, one meant to break everything she sees and remake it in a twisted image, and she will never again let it burn her away.

 Celebrate them.

In between patrols and fights and tragedies-

-April learns to love the small things.

To celebrate them as they come and go, because everything is tenuous these days.

The days when her dad can walk out for work and come home with a smile, and then last the whole night without a panic attack; April celebrates them with extra-long hugs and truly bright smiles as they share dinner together.

The nights when she lands a jump just right, or executes a move perfectly, or earns an extra moment of praise from master Splinter; April beams and pushes herself harder, because she knows that now that she’s done this she can do better.

The moments that she gets to share with her friends, any and all of them, during patrols and training; when Donnie and Casey make the tips of her ears a little red, or Mikey and Leo make her laugh a bit too loud for ninja-ing, or Raph challenges her to a foolhardy bet neither she or anyone else in their group is going to really be able to win- April’s heart swells, and she lets herself experience the split seconds they’ve got with no other thoughts in her mind.

There are too many things that could interrupt those things, lately. Too many dangerous events and people that could take them away.

April’s learned, though. Learned that she has to celebrate them while they’re here and hope to god that there’ll be more in the future.

So as the moments come and go, the small interactions and smiles and hugs; she treasures and celebrates each and every one.

[archienewling]

I have the design for the office to share with you this week! First up, let’s talk layout.

Look how fancy I am! Marvel at that rudimentary animation! I made it myself, and yes, everything is to scale. I’ve leveled up a little with SketchUp and it’s no longer the frustrating exercise it once was to create custom furniture. I even made the lamp on the desk! YAY FOR NEW SKILLS.

Anyway, I have still images too, which are probably more helpful in discussing the space.

The room is all angles, so the layout was a little challenging, but I took advantage of the one long wall by lining it with 7’ of modular storage. The ceiling height is limiting, so to avoid everything being at the same height, I added a hutch atop the cabinets.

Floating in the middle of the room will be a brass and marble dining table. It gives me extra space to spread out while planning big projects, but it’s also a secondary desk, a homework spot (the kids like to hang out up there with me), and an alternate location for tabletop shoots. There will be four modern green chairs for everyday use, but the table can seat six.

Next, the placement of the desk and chairs. This is controversial?

They can be flip-flopped, and in theory a desk in front of the windows sounds lovely. In reality though, the sun can be super bright there for a good portion of the day and I think it would hurt my eyes to be staring at a backlit screen (and I don’t want to draw the curtains all the time). I also have a window AC there which is very necessary on the third floor of an old house without central air, and I don’t want to sit directly in front of it. And also? I don’t want my back to the room’s main entrance! It feels wrong. My desk has been where it is in the mockups for months now, and I like it. I can also swivel to reach the scanner/printer which I don’t use every single day, but when I do I feel very much in control of my little command center.

Placing the desk in front of the window would make for a pretty picture, but it’s not the right choice for me. The window nook will be beautiful with my pair of vintage chairs centered in it and some amazing sconces on each side.

OK, and the closet. Excuse me, I mean “The Rainbow Room.” My family loves this little space at the very top, very front of the house with its deminue stained glass window. We’re all pretty excited about giving it an update! I’ll be putting up the most amazing wallpaper with vintage-style illustrations of birds and bugs, and then painting the trim a complementary color. Four bookshelves will line the sides giving us tons of storage while keeping a clear view of the window at the end.

I’ve got a design board with the major elements in place to share too.

This board isn’t 100% final, but it’s pretty close. An asterisk denotes items that have been sent by sponsors for inclusion in the room.

Ornithology Wallpaper, Milton & King* Birds and bugs! That illustration style! You guys, this is right up my alley.

Audrey 8″ Sconce, Cedar & Moss* Well these are pretty much perfect, yes? Customizable too. Mine will plug in.

Alexa Hampton Basil Small Brass Pendant, The Mine* Much nicer than the ceiling fan it’s replacing. I’ll be centering the pendant on the marble table.

Globe Table Lamp, West Elm There are less expensive options for a simple globe lamp, but I’m picky about the glass. I didn’t want plastic or anything etched/frosted. Beautiful milk glass all the way.

Benchwright Hutch, Pottery Barn The ceilings have funny angles and I needed something with height. This sits atop my storage cabinets. (Discontinued, but here’s the rest of the collection.)

Martha Stewart Living Craft Storage Console, Home Depot / Home Decorators Modular, so you can build your own storage solution. Alas, I’m only seeing this one in white now.

Martha Stewart Living Craft File Cabinet, Home Depot / Home Decorators More modular goodness, but this one is still available in wood, along with white and black.

Archive Walnut Bookshelves, Article* These have arrived and not only are they sturdy, the walnut is gorgeous.

Freer House Slim Keith Vase, Jill Rosenwald* Little vases painted on a larger vase! Delightful.

Marble and Brass 60×36″ Parsons Table, Crate & Barrel* I cannot wait to start covering this table with walllpaper samples and paint swatches. Perhaps its beauty will inspire me to keep a tidy workspace?

Green Chairs, The Mine* I’ve been looking for more ways to bring in mossy green, and these chairs excellent in that regard. Digging the modern style too.

Vintage Blue Slipper Chairs, Divine Consign I grabbed a pair of these and used only one in my first One Room Challenge, but now they’re reuniting in my office.

Pom Pom Velvet Pillows, West Elm I’ve used these in other rooms, but my pillows like to shuffle around. I think they’ll be happy in the office, at least for a little while.

Kendrick Currey & Co Side Table, Bellacor* This is the cutest side table and I’m sad to say that it’s being discontinued. I was considering this quirky side table too, which is still available.

Pink Curtains, TBD I might steal these from another room, but then that would leave that space naked. Find something else? Pink for every window, everywhere!

Silas Round Convex Mirror, Overstock Another item I might steal from a different room (the snug). But I think I might like it even better in the office.

‘Emerald Beetles’ by Kate Roebuck, Artfully Walls* I had to.

‘Flowers in Vase’ by Ruti Shaashua, Artfully Walls* Great colors and an equally great drawing style.

Paint colors: White Blush, Benjamin Moore; Simply White, Benjamin Moore; Authentic Black, Dutch Boy The second and third floor has white trim and black doors throughout (with just a couple of rooms left to tackle). The pale blush walls are the same as my bedroom — I loved the color that much.

Morris 60″ Desk, Crate & Barrel* Drawers! So many drawers. I’m going to devote one exclusively to novelty toys just because I can.

Minna Vase, Crate & Barrel I picked up four of these a while back. I have three children, and not so coincidentally I suppose, I now also have three of these vases.

Jane Robert Abbey Table Lamp, Bellacor* I’m playing with scale here. This lamp is huge, and it’s going under an angled ceiling. It should work, but until I see it in person I’m crossing my fingers.

Bukhara Ikat Indigo Blue Pillow, Arianna Belle* Oh my do I love this pattern. My desk area needed a little shot of blue.

Liv Upholstered Wingback Office Chair, Crate & Barrel* My number one choice for a desk chair. It’s so dang lovely.I’ve written about it before!

Coziest Rosette Throw, West Elm For chilly days.

Blue and White Planter, The Mine* There are touches of blue and white everywhere, and I’ve been wanting to add a planter like this somewhere in the house. I realized the office is the perfect spot to do so.

Pink Genevieve Gorder Capel Rug An oldie but a goodie. The dusty pink is hard to find in rugs — they’re usually baby pink or much, much brighter.

Follow along with the One Room Challenge participants!

• Boxwood Avenue • Coco & Jack • Design Manifest • Dwell with Dignity • The House That Lars Built • Little Green Notebook • The Makerista • Making it Lovely • Old Brand New • Old Home Love • The Painted House • Megan Pflug Designs • Pink Pagoda • Erica Reitman • Sacramento Street • Simply Grove • Jill Sorensen • Sugar & Cloth • Vintage Rug Shop • Waiting on Martha • Media Partner House Beautiful • TM by ORC

My One Room Challenge Posts

Follow along from the beginning! • Week 1: Hello, Office • Week 2: Design and Layout

And check out my previous One Room Challenges! • Spring ’16: Our Bedroom and Den • Fall ’16: Front and Back Entry, Stairs, and Hallways

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