#ive been itching to make more art of these three + me. like in very meta humor way if that makes sense. anyway JASKDJAKDJK | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

emybain · 5 years ago

Note

For the kiss prompts. Maybe 42 or 3 for nodrian💙

why not both hehe. no joke ive been trying to post this for two days now. i finished it the other night but i just keep forgetting to post lol. these are NOT connected in any way and they are both post supernova. The first one is a little aged up and fair warning, it’s a bit on the pg-13 side (im so sorry to all my cinnamon followers just LOOK AWAY)

3-a breathy demand:”kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond

42-distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead

ao3

Nova peeked into the art studio of Adrian’s town house, pushing the door open enough so she could see him. Yep. He was still at his easel. At least he had chosen to pull up a barstool instead of continuing to stand; he had been painting for hours.

Times like this weren’t uncommon. For both of them. It was normal for them to not see one another for hours whenever Nova came over or vice versa, and there was nothing wrong with that. Sometimes, it was just comforting to be in each other’s presence. And it wasn’t like how they used to be, co-depending on one another after the supernova and inseparable. No, after a mutual decision to give one another a break, here they were four years later, going on a stable three years together. They were better now, after both receiving much needed therapy and time to think over everything. It wasn’t easy, especially for Nova, who felt as though she had no one to go to after the supernova, but it gradually got more attainable.

Except for now, when Nova was getting an itch for, well…special attention, and she hadn’t seen Adrian since their early dinner. Before he had let her know he was going to go work on a project, she was going to subtly suggest they extend their date night a couple hours. It was fine, Nova was fine. She figured he would only disappear for a little while and rejoin her in the living room, where she decided to pick up a book from his bookcase. Except he didn’t. So now she had to take things into her own hands.

“Hey, Babe,” she greeted softly, entering the room slowly. Sometimes, he got so caught up in his work that he didn’t notice Nova until she touched him, which, based on past occurrences, messed him up. “I brought you some water.”

She stepped into his line of sight and set the glass down on the small table beside him. He didn’t respond, though from the tilt of his head, she could tell he heard her. Sigh.

“You’ve been working really hard, you know. Maybe it’s time for a break?” She took a step toward him, biting her lip and bringing her hand up to the cotton button down she was wearing, fingering the top button. He grunted in response, quietly thanking her for the water. Nova rolled her eyes. Come on. She knew she got like this, too, but tonight, she decided it was ridiculous. She wanted attention, damn it.

Walking behind him, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned down. He tensed at first, but relaxed just as quickly. He even turned his head around and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. Well, it was something.

“Come to bed,” she murmured in his ear, lips brushing against the top. “I miss you.” To prove it, she kissed behind his ear. She felt him stiffen again, even as he continued painting. Her lips trailed down his neck, holding back a smile.

“I’ll come in a little bit.” The satisfaction she got from his shaky voice was delicious. “Let me just finish this one section and I’ll be there, okay?”

Oh, that wouldn’t do. He cursed when she nipped at the hollow in his throat, making sure her hair hung over to expose her neck. Just to tease him. “Why not now, though?” she hummed against his skin, deepening every kiss. His name escaped from her mouth in a sigh, a desperate need. She couldn’t help herself.

“Shit, Nova.” He leaned back a little, much to her delight, as her hands went up his shirt, nails scraping against his chest. She stopped her caresses for a moment to blink at him innocently. A warm feeling washed over her at how dark his eyes were, a deeper brown than usual. They were breathtaking.

Nova wiped at a dried paint spot on his cheek. “What?”

He let out a long sigh, took one look at the unfinished painting, and set down his supplies. Nova grinned. She moved to sit in his lap, not really caring where she got attention as long as she just got it. But Adrian had other plans.

Nova screeched as he stood suddenly and scooped her up into his arms. Their laughter echoed down the dark hallway and into Adrian’s bedroom, where it continued well into the night.

__________

They were the only ones in the training hall, save for a few runners or weightlifters with earbuds in. Nova ducked as Adrian threw a punch at her, rolling to her left and pouncing back up, landing a kick to his side. He grimaced. Nova would’ve felt bad, except he had been the one to suggest a quick hand-to-hand combat fight. She pushed her sweaty bangs out of her eyes. Feeling generous, she took a few steps back to give Adrian a moment to collect himself. His eyes followed her as she circled him, knees bent at the ready. When he smirked at her and motioned her forward, she scrunched her face up.

With a battle cry impressive enough for long-dead gods, she charged him. He blocked her blow and grabbed her forearm, twisting her around to hold her in a choke-hold. But Nova saw it coming. She rammed her heel into his foot, causing him to let her go. Nova rolled away, landing in a crouch. While he was distracted, she swept her leg out, knocking him to the ground. Before he could get back up, she had him pinned down, holding his wrists down with her knees.

They were both breathing hard, staring at one another in silence. A dull pain rose up in Nova’s side where Adrian had got her earlier. It was worsening slowly, no doubt forming into a nasty bruise. A fight less than ten minutes had stolen all of her energy.

“I win.” She grinned at him, leaning over and patting his cheek with a gloved hand. Ever since the supernova a few months ago, Nova made an effort to wear gloves whenever she was training with another prodigy. Adrian was the only one who said she didn’t have to around him, that he trusted her, but they still helped her feel more at ease. The rest of her team was still wary around her, and Nova only wanted them to be more comfortable. Sure she could still knock them out with any skin contact, but her hands were her biggest weapon. She hadn’t even been on patrols with them since the supernova, choosing instead to do jobs around headquarters. Just something to keep her busy, and to show the Renegades that she was on their side, for real this time. Some of her jobs may have been made up, like going to bother the Council about anything she thought would help in the process of transitioning into a more democratic government. It was a very, very slow process, but at least she was beginning to see progress. See what her father had envisioned so many years ago.

Adrian interrupted her thoughts by managing to flip them over. Nova’s back hit the foam mat, air rushing out of her body. He held both of her arms over her head with one of his. “No, I think I do.”

“Asshole,” she grumbled, squirming under his weight that only seemed to get heavier the more she moved. “That doesn’t count.”

Her heart raced as he brought his head closer, eyebrows raised. She could smell his cologne, that wonderful pine scent. She chastised herself for breathing in just a little deeper so she could catch more of that intoxicating fragrance. Tilted her head a bit to the side to avoid his intense gaze. Because, well, they were broken up. Nova knew they needed it, that choosing to continue a relationship after what happened would only end in flames. Much as she hated to admit it, it was unhealthy. Adrian had been the first person to truly see Nova for who she was instead of just a pawn on the chessboard or a lie or whatever the media liked to come up with every morning after they had their coffee. He understood her and her trauma. To just…let him go like that…was agonizing. But she knew it was only temporary, that they still both harbored deep feelings for one another. Maybe in a few months and after dozens of therapy appointments, they would be able to talk about getting back together. At least now, after a couple months of coming to terms with the break up, she could handle being alone with him again. Being friends, laughing and spending time together. Well, for the most part.

To put things simply, Nova was very thankful at that moment that the Council had changed the rule that uniforms are mandatory even in the training hall. And she was very thankful that Adrian had discarded his shirt two minutes into their five mile run earlier that morning.

“Someone’s just bitter they owe me breakfast.” Nova scoffed, remembering their deal earlier. She jumped suddenly, eyes widening at his hand on her cheek, caressing it. His brows were furrowed. “I didn’t know I got your face. I’m sorry about that.”

Holding her breath, Nova placed her hand over his. He met her eyes and blinked. “It’s fine. Probably just from the mat.” Her voice was barely over a whisper.

She definitely saw his eyes dip down and focus on her lips for a moment; she couldn’t help but do the same. Somehow, all of her weaknesses regarding him, weaknesses that she had been suppressing for months, were all laid out in front of her. She wanted nothing more than to just…just…

“Kiss me,” she breathed, only slightly noticing how demanding she sounded in that moment.

He stilled. “Nova, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Yet his voice was gruff. Yet he didn’t move from his position over her.

“It’s not.” She licked her lips.

His eyes softened and he bent his head down. Nova raised hers up greedily to meet him. It had been an eternity since she had tasted his soft lips.

But just as their lips brushed, sending a current of electricity down Nova’s spine, Adrian was gone.

Nova sat up and could only watch as he walked away, grabbing his shirt and roughly pulling it over his head. He didn’t look back.

#nova artino #adrian everhart #ruby tucker #oscar silva #danna bell #narcissa cronin #nodrian #tuckva #osby #danissa #renegades #archenemies #supernova #supernova spoilers #asks #my writing

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capricornus-rex · 5 years ago

Text

His Spark of Light (3)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by: @stellar-trinity | Prompt: Clingy! Cal Kestis

1 | 2 | Next: Part 4 | Masterlist

3 of ?

The crew learns that these are not the same partisans under Saw Gerrera back in Kashyyyk. They were another faction that wanted to cease the tyranny of the Empire and decided to fight back and rebel. Their only difference between Saw’s army is that their objective is on a much larger scale.

“I’m not one to believe it rumors but some of the people in charge once belonged to the Senate, during the time of the Republic. I heard some of them are doing this as a second agenda—but in secret.”

Cere’s eyebrows furrowed. Her position in her seat stiffened. Cal leaned closer, greatly intrigued, having remembered some of the politicians—both good and shady ones—he’s met back in his younger years. Someone from the Republic?

“They’re defectors?” Cere asked, a tone of concerned mixed with her intrigue.

“Not all; some are. They’re the ones who resigned from office shortly after the Empire’s establishment. I heard one of the Senators is working on this in secret, I don’t know the name though, I didn’t hear it.”

“Then they’re playing a dangerous game,” Cal added.

“I think they knew that from the start,”

There was a silence amongst you. It was a moment of reflection—especially for Cere, Cal, and yourself. The three of you have been struggling to survive, flying low on the Empire’s radar to avoid trouble, but you discover that you weren’t the only ones who want to fight back. Kashyyyk and now the rebels here in Yavin IV proved that.

“Look, Commander Hoss is a good man. He’s leading good people. I think it’s safe to say we have his good graces. Given that he’s welcomed us into this base, it’s a good start,” you reassured everyone.

“Then I guess I have time to stretch my arms!” Greez joked which lit up the mood in the room.

Cere stood up from her bench and talked about having a word with Commander Hoss later tonight. All of you leave the room and make your way out back to the ground level. Along the way, Cal noticed just now that some of your fingers were wrapped with Bacta strips and your hand was wrapped in a linen bandage. You were hiding your hands between your thighs or concealing them from everyone else’s view.

“What happened to you?” Cal asked within your earshot, but the concern in his tone was very apparent.

“Oh, collateral damage,” you shrugged.

Cal slid his fingers into the spaces between yours.

“Tell me if I’m holding it too tight that it hurts, okay?”

Your heart melted and you smiled, “Okay,”

He would rub his thumb over the space of your hand from time to time as you walked; his fingernails would gently feel for the Bacta strips, the bandage, and your skin. Your slight squeezes would signal him to squeeze back, though he mindfully controlled his grip.

Even in the distance, you saw the Mantis and you smiled as you let out a sigh of relief. In the spacious exterior of the temple, it was the only thing that stood out amongst the rows of small fighter ships dotting the area. It wasn’t hard to miss.

“Thought I’d never see that old girl again!” you playfully jeered.

“Yeah, she missed you too!” Greez joked back.

“Home away from home,” you smiled and excitedly marched towards the entrance.

It felt like your legs were moving on their own. You didn’t realize you’ve picked up your pace and almost went ahead of everyone on the way to the Mantis.

The ship’s door hissed as it unfolded and then lowered. All of you entered the Mantis, but you got in first. There was a certain warmth in the ship that you longed for days, you basked in it as if it was sunlight.

“We’re home,” Cal announced.

You let yourself settle down again in the Mantis. Everything suddenly went back to normal, as if you weren’t gone for roughly four days. You and Cal sit together at the dining table, from your vantage point, you watch life in the Mantis go by like it usually does: Greez is outside getting some fresh air while checking on the Mantis’s exterior hatches and landing gears, Cere was tinkering about in the communications station in the cockpit, and finally, Merrin was trimming away the weeds in the terrarium.

“I missed this,” you mutter to him.

Cal turned his head to you. Your chin was propped over your fist while you look around the ship, at the corner of your eye you spotted the little Bogling stowaway hiding in the ventilation shaft. Cal thought you’ve looked better after seeing all that action in Geonosis.

Cal’s eyes wandered to your hands again, you were slightly scratching the plastered sections, you slightly pressed your thumb over the center of your bruises—a number of which were already paling from its dark purple shade.

“Come on,” he beckoned. “You obviously need to have those changed.”

“Indeed I do,”

There was no room for argument there. You removed your bandages and washed your hands, you unzipped your jumpsuit top revealing more wounds. You winced when the cold water seeped into the wounds, but you continued to carefully lather and rinse. The itchiness was too tempting but you pierced the less painful areas with your fingernail to repress the itching sensation.

Both of you retreated to the quarters, Cal hatched open the compartments and produced a first-aid kit. You sat down rubbing your wounds and feeling the hardened scabs in the cuts.

“Do they hurt?” Cal asked, sitting down next to you.

“Stings a little,”

He swabbed Bacta gel on your open wounds, cuts, and scabs. He thoroughly checked your front and back for more, he snuck a series of small kisses on your shoulders before turning you to face his front. Cal finishes with wrapping the bigger wounds on your hands and torso with the bandages. Cal gently caressed your hand, brought them to his lips and kissed the back of your hand. He didn’t let go when he pulled away, he rested his cheek on your palm; you notice his eyebrows slightly furrowing as he nuzzled his lips against your palm.

“I missed you so much,” he said in a whisper.

Your free hand cupped his cheek, you slightly angled his chin so he faces you.

“Oh, I missed you too… so much,”

You leaned closer to kiss him on the forehead. Your fingertips fiddled with the ends of his loose locks of hair, the feeling of his hair tickling your fingers was one of the things you missed and constantly thought about.

After replacing your bandages, you gave him a thank you kiss; out of the blue, you asked him.

“Are you hungry? I could make some snacks if you like,”

He gave a small smile, “Sure.”

You caressed his cheek before leaving the quarters. You made yourself busy at the galley. Shortly after you left, Cal walked out of the room and sat by the table again; he propped his chin over his hand while watching you work. Even with your back turned, he stared at you intently.

Occasionally, you would glance over your shoulder and smile at him, to which he would happily beam back at you.

“Would you like Ahrisa or space waffles?”

“Space waffles,”

Cal’s voice was closer than you thought, you shrugged it off for a second until you felt his head resting on your shoulder and his arms around your waist.

“Oh!” you grunted in surprise, but you chuckled it off. Your free hand reached for his head and gently patted his head full of fiery red hair. You continued with your edible art, “Honey or none?”

Cal gazed at you intently and fondly, the corner of his lips curled upward as he prepared to say the word.

“Honey,” and then he kissed a peck on your nose, proceeding to watch you go on with your work while having your boyfriend cling onto you from behind.

Your servings yielded some extras for anyone else who’d like some. Meanwhile, you and Cal sat together by the table, chatting over a medley plate of space waffles, Tepasi taffy, and Jogan berries.

“It sure was different not having you here,” Cal blurted.

“Oh? What’d you guys do while I was gone?”

“Same old same old, really. Though, I was bored as hell,”

“You have the crew to talk to,”

“Yeah, but…” he tapped his fingertips on the table’s surface. “I prefer your voice.”

He beamed, you’re feeling butterflies fluttering around your stomach and the digested space waffles aren’t doing much help in suppressing them. You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat.

“I didn’t like having your side of the bed empty either,” he added.

“Well, aren’t you just a big sweetheart?”

You caressed his cheek, secretly feeling for the scar on his jawline, and he caught your wrist before you could pull it away. You thumbed away a crumb of space waffle straggling on the corner of his mouth.

“Aww, you big baby,” you giggled. “What am I gonna do with you?”

He responded by softly suckling your thumb before letting your hand go and continue with your snacking. For the rest of the afternoon, you and Cal caught up some more about the past four days.

In the middle of the conversation, he cuts in as he picked up a Jogan berry.

“Say ah,”

You distanced yourself one barstool away from him and he tossed the Jogan berry towards you, he shoots and he scores.

“Aww, good one!” you said while you munched on the fruit and scooched back to your original seat.

“Just my luck,” he chuckled.

The sound of your laughter made Cal’s heart skip a beat. Whether or not you were trying to hide your laughter or just let it all out, he just continued making you laugh with his stories and jokes. You realized that you missed out a lot with the shenanigans, but Cal was vocal about missing you and having moments like these with you.

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ficsandcatsandficsandcats · 5 years ago

Text

All Is Found:Anastasia!AU

Part V – In The Dark Of The Night

Fandom: The Witcher Word Count: 2,509 Rating: T Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @jill-makes-art @mynamesoundslikesherlock @kemmastan @magic-multicolored-miracle @writingstudent @mlleecrivaine @coffee-and-stories @amirahiddleston @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @astouract @your-not-invisible-to-me @mycat-is-mylove a/n: A retelling of Don Bluth’s Anastasia (1997)

{prologue}{part i}{part ii}{part iii}{part iv}

The plan was fairly easy, all things considered. After several successful border crossings Geralt and Jaskier had established a streamlined process. When they returned to the little house Geralt and Jaskier shared, which was more of an abandoned building than an actual home, you were told to try and rest as you would be traveling all night to get out of Old Nilfgaard. Jaskier had gallantly fluffed the pillow for you and you’d lain on the straw mattress bed and stared at the ceiling for some time. You tossed and turned until Jaskier finally came to check on you.

“What’s going on in there?” he asked.

“I can’t sleep,” you answered.

“Oh, thank the gods. I thought you were wrestling with a particularly tenacious rat,” he quipped.

“Very funny,” you murmured. Jaskier smiled kindly and moved a bit closer, crouching down by the bed so his face was level with yours.

“It’s normal to be nervous,” he said.

“I’m not nervous,” you lied. He cocked an eyebrow in disbelief but you kept your face placid as you gazed back, the sky-blue eyes nearly silver in the beams of sunlight that streamed through little slats in the wall.

“Well if you were nervous, I’d assure you that we have done this several times and there have never been any casualties,” Jaskier said.

“And if I wasn’t nervous what would you say?” you asked, stubbornly refusing to admit you were scared but trying to keep him by your side talking. Even if he frustrated you at times, you didn’t want to be alone. You’d spent too much of your life alone already.

“I’d tell you to stop thrashing around or you’ll wake the bats in the attic,” he answered glibly. You made an annoyed harrumphing sound and flipped back over, unsure if the squeak you heard was a trick of your mind or one of the aforementioned bats. Jaskier walked back into the little living space where Geralt sat sharpening one of his swords. It had been unsettling to watch the first few times but now it was as commonplace as seeing him wash a dish or grunt impassively.

“Is she alright?” he asked, glancing up at Jaskier as he plopped heavily into a chair that wobbled dangerously under his weight.

“She’s nervous but she won’t admit it,” Jaskier replied, “She’s certainly stubborn enough to be a queen.”

“Stubborn can be good. Stubborn keeps people focus on a goal,” Geralt replied, sheathing the sword.

“Perhaps, but it makes for difficult conversation,” Jaskier grumbled.

“Jaskier, don’t tell me you of all people are having a hard time making conversation. I thought it was one of your foremost skills. You’ve certainly practiced long enough,” Geralt muttered.

“It’s hard to get anywhere with someone who won’t be open with you,” the bard argued.

“And how open have you been with her?” Geralt asked. Jaskier scoffed and sputtered as he tried to think of a good answer.

“That is.. entirely different,” he snorted.

“Indeed.”

“Yes!”

“How?”

“It just is,” Jaskier snapped. Geralt leaned closer, fixing his amber eyes on Jaskier’s blue ones intently.

“You both have histories. But you’ve had someone to talk with, she hasn’t. If our lives in this godsforsaken country has made us cautious, imagine what it’s like for someone whose family was slaughtered and who just found out who they truly are?”

Jaskier squirmed uncomfortably under Geralt’s words, unable to deny the truth in them.

“I suppose I can be more accommodating,” Jaskier mumbled. Geralt smiled at him proudly and they both turned to look as the door to the bedroom creaked open. You stood in the threshold and fixed them both with a cautious but determined expression.

“I can’t sleep so I’d rather help prepare,” you said. Jaskier and Geralt exchanged a brief glance and then Geralt nodded. Jaskier turned to look back at you, a smile playing about his lips.

“Are you handy with any weapons?” he asked. You thought hard for a moment, not wanting to say no but not wanting to lie and look like an ass or endanger them in a critical moment.

“I used to throw knives. For a little bit. Till the Headmistress found out,” you said.

“That’s a start! What about archery? Ever held a bow?” he asked.

“No, but I have pretty good upper arm strength! I was always giving the girls spins,” you answered proudly.

“Sorry, giving them what?”

“Spins! It’s when you pick a child up under their arms and you spin them around in a circle,” you hoisted your arms up, pantomiming the action as you moved in a circle until you stumbled into a nearby chair.

“Let’s try the knives,” Geralt said with an encouraging smile. He rose from his chair and reached into a bag, pulling out three ornate, lightweight daggers and gestured for you to follow him outside.

-----

The blades glistened in the candlelight, nearly dry though the mages could still see the shimmer of poison that had yet to fully be absorbed.

“If any part of the blade so much as grazes her flesh, the poison will ensure her death within a minute. It should go without saying that you need to avoid touching it yourself,” Stregobor announced. The three mages he’d chosen for the mission nodded in unison.

“There are few routes they could be taking but the witcher will choose the mountain. I have seen it,” he said, looking down at the flames that were mirrored in the blades like a seer gazing into a crystal ball.

“You will bring her body to me,” he instructed.

“What of the witcher and the bard?” one of the mages asked. Stregobor’s eyes glanced up at them as he considered the question and then gave an impassive shrug.

“You can do with those what you wish. There are some who would be eager for the chance to examine a witcher’s corpse. The bard is of no consequence. The only one I care about is the girl,” he answered.

“What happens if…” the mage who had begun to speak thought twice and quickly closed their mouths but Stregobor’s sharp eyes were on him, hawk like and predatory.

“If?” Stregobor prodded. The mage glanced up into his eyes and then away again. There were a few tense moments of silence and then Stregobor pulled himself up to his full height, crossing his hands behind his back as he looked down at the trio in front of him who looked everywhere but towards him.

“Allow me to be very clear with you all,” he said in a calm, composed voice, “You either bring her body to me, or you do not come back at all. You have been chosen to complete a task. Failure will not be accepted, no matter the circumstance. Does that answer any lingering questions you may have?”

The three nodded in unison again, eyes on the ground, and Stregobor nodded as well, satisfied that they were sufficiently motivated.

“They will leave at dusk. I will portal you now so you can be waiting for them. Do not fail me,” he said. He picked up the daggers and handed them carefully over, one to each mage.

-----

They left under the cover of night and they would go through a cave path in the mountains that the pair alone knew. It would take them into Sodden where they would be safe to travel openly through the other countries until they reached Cidaris. Geralt took the lead with you in the middle, Jaskier ostensibly in the back but he had decided a good use of time walking would be providing a history lesson so he spent more time by your side than behind you.

“Repeat back to me, your grandmother...”

“Marie,” you answered confidently.

“From House…,” Jaskier trailed off, looking at you expectantly.

“House… Tussel?”

“Thyssen,” Jaskier corrected.

“Question, would I really have known that or paid attention as a child? I mean as a seven year old did you know your grandmother’s maiden name?” you argued. Jaskier ran a hand through his chestnut hair.

“I am not a prince, Y/N, nobody cares who my grandparents are or where they’re from. It matters for you and it would have as soon as you understood words and symbols,” Jaskier insisted.

“Tell me something meaningful about them,” you asked, “Just… something besides dates and houses.”

“What do you consider meaningful?” he asked.

“Well… why is she in Cidaris? Why not stay in Toussaint?”

“House Thyssen is a Cidarian dynasty, she returned when there began to be word of unrest in the country,” he explained, “Word was that you were supposed to join her but never got the chance.”

“Speaking of that,” you said quickly before he could ask another question, “How did she get out? And me? And how did I not stay with her?”

Jaskier considered your question for a moment, a silence lapsing between you as he considered his answer. When he opened his mouth to answer Geralt held up a hand, halting you both. You instinctively reached for the knife Geralt had given you for protection and you saw Jaskier’s hand go towards something as well. You stayed like that for a few minutes as Geralt listened and waited. You were within sight of the bushes that obscured the cave entrance, so close to freedom that you felt the itch to run for it but you knew better than to take that risk. After five minutes had passed you opened your mouth to speak but Jaskier saw and quickly took your hand. When you looked over at him he shook his head. Geralt spun around, pulling something from his pocket and sending it flying just where your head had been seconds before Jaskier pulled you to the ground, cushioning your fall with his body. You heard a shriek and turned to see someone drop from a nearby tree. Geralt reached for another one and you heard an ungodly scream from the right. You jumped up, hands fumbling for the dagger as someone in a robe came running towards you from the trees, something in their hand glinting in the moonlight. Jaskier rose up before you could get a good grasp on the knife handle and thrust one of his own. It landed in the assailant’s shoulder and they fell backward with a cry of pain. Jaskier seized your hand and pulled him behind you. Geralt looked around the perimeter, yellow eyes scanning the trees carefully. For a moment the only sound was of your breathing, shaky and anxious, and the crunch of leaves underfoot. Jaskier’s hand squeezed yours hard, the only sign of his own nervousness, and you squeeze back just as hard. Geralt turned again to look into the trees and you felt something grasp your ankle. You kicked instinctively and by the time you looked down the third assailant held a hand over their eye, blindly swiping at you with a dagger that missed you by inches. You kicked again and the dagger went flying. Before Jaskier could do anything you were on top of the assailant who struggled but couldn’t shake you as you held them down, your legs wrapped around their waist and your hands keeping their shoulders pinned to the earth.

‘Who are you?” you demanded. The hood had fallen back and you were surprised to find what looked like an ordinary young man.

“It doesn’t matter,” the man spat, “I’m dead.”

“Not necessarily,” you said, “If you answer some questions…”

Before you could continue the man reached for the blade that was just beyond his outstretched fingers but Jaskier stepped on it, pulling it further away as Geralt moved in to pull you off of the man. He didn’t try to run, he just looked up into the witcher’s golden eyes defiantly.

“Do it,” he snapped.

“Who sent you?” Geralt asked. The man scoffed and shook his head. You noticed him begin to move his hand in a strange pattern but before you could point it out the man made an odd wheezing noise. Geralt moved closer and then stepped back quickly as he spat up blood, body convulsing until it stopped. His head fell to the side, eyes empty and a stream of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“Gods…” you whispered. Geralt scowled at the body and then at the other two around you.

“What do we do with the bodies?” Jaskier asked, far calmer than you felt but you heard the slight crack in his voice as he spoke. Again you were grateful for the glimpse of vulnerability that helped you feel less alone in your fear. It was also good that this wasn’t a normal occurrence. For the bard, anyway. Geralt was unaffected, mostly seeming confused and ponderous rather than shaken by the near death experience, much less the actual deaths witnessed.

“We leave them. We don’t have time to dig graves. With luck the animals will get to them before any guards find them,” Geralt answered. Jaskier nodded and then moved his boot, reaching down to pick up the dagger he’d moved aside.

“Don’t touch that!” Geralt snapped just before Jaskier’s fingers brushed against the flat of the blade.

“I was just going to look at it!” Jaskier cried, stepping back as Geralt ran towards it. He picked it up with a gloved hand and you moved closer to look. You could see that the blade was colored in an odd way, tinged with something opaque.

“Poison,” Geralt said. His eyes found yours before he spoke again, “Someone knows you’re alive.”

Your heart leapt to your throat and you focused on trying to regulate your breathing as Geralt moved some paces away and buried the dagger. Jaskier walked over to you and his hand found yours again, the warmth of his hand helping to soothe the trembling from your fingers.

“You saved my life,” you said, focusing on the soft blue of his eyes and trying to lose yourself in their depths, far, far away from the carnage around you and your attempted murder.

“I told you to trust us,” he said with a smile, “You were brilliant, too.”

“I didn’t say you were brilliant.”

“I said it for you,” he teased, a smirk playing about his lips for a moment before he grew serious again, “Truly, though. You held your head. Hell, you held them down!”

“I told you,” you said with a smug nod, “Spinning. I have the upper arm strength of an ox.”

“Do oxen have especially strong upper arms?” Jaskier asked. You opened your mouth to reply but Geralt walked up to you and you turned your attention to him.

“Are you alright?” he asked. You nodded and he glanced to Jaskier who nodded as well.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, “Quickly.”

The rest of the walk was spent in silence and when Jaskier helped you up onto the rocky ledge into the mountain tunnel he kept your hand in his, a silent reassurance that you weren’t alone.

#All Is Found series #Anastasia!AU #The Witcher!AU #fanfiction #Jaskier x Reader

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jungxk · 6 years ago

Text

just one (iii)

notes: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

warnings: eventual smut, swearing, bad habits (mentions of drinking, smoking etc)

genre: humour, drama, romance, college!au

wordcount: 7.3k

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

contrary to popular belief, jungkook does set some rules for himself. he doesn't have many, but the ones he does have he's strict about.

the first was no drunks in his jeep. he already broke that rule by allowing you and your friend seulgi in, so maybe that was out the window. impressive too, because he hasn't let anyone in his truck that hammered since jimin after taehyung's 21st. he threw up all over the dashboard and jungkook could swear he smelt vomit in there for months. even though he's sensitive to smell and hates repeating the same mistakes, jungkook decided you were worth the risk.

which brings him to his second rule: messing around with girls was just that. messing around. every time he needs reminding of that jungkook remembers the cactus plant taehyung gave him back during his very first semester. he killed that thing in record timing to the point where even taehyung wondered if there was a malevolent spirit in the place, because how else could you kill a cactus? it perfectly depicted jungkook's most telling trait: he can't look after things. look out for things, sure. he can step into a fight if his friend needed help or walk an old lady to her car with groceries. because those were a one off, in-the moment things that jungkook is good at navigating. but long term things? investing himself? he could barely stomach his own emotions for a weekend let alone someone else's, so it really was a recipe for disaster for everyone involved. get in, get out, get going onto the next. that way everybody wins.

and that neatly bleeds into his final rule: no bringing girls back to his place (if he can help it). jungkook preferred to keep his personal and personal personal life separate, so the less girls knew about him outside the bedroom the better. besides, it's not like he's totally unreasonable - if his place was closest and the situation called for it, then fair enough. but that was hardly ever the case.

which is why he's here: stumbling around the park in the middle of the day, totally and utterly lost. he was sure he had taken this shortcut once or twice before but apparently he was wrong, because he didn't even know this half of the park existed.

"the fuck is this place," jungkook mutters to himself, shifting as best as he can through a patch of long grass. he's pretty sure he's got a twig in his shirt somewhere and he doesn't even want to think about that squishy thing he just stepped in. his dick may have had a blast last night (and this morning) but the timbs on his feet had definitely seen better days.

jungkook had been wandering around for so long now he considers calling the girl who's place he'd just left in hopes of getting some directions...but then realised he didn't have her number. and even if he did, what would he say? i made you cum faster than you could spell out my name but now i need you to fish me out of the park like a lost dog? and then the next hurdle: what was her name again? jane? joy? jill? it quickly becomes irrelevant when jungkook gets through the end of weeds and broken branches to an open plain of grass again. it's a cloudy day so it wasn't particularly beautiful to look at, but he's just happy to be out of the mess of trees. looking out to the large pond of water just where the steepness of a hill stops, he double-takes when he sees that the person sitting atop it is...you.

you. bundled up in a hoodie, no makeup, tongue sticking out while you work to get the shading of that wilted tree just right. it's a public place, there are people out on the streets, cars whizzing past, but jungkook still feels like he's stumbled upon something private, intimate even - so beautiful do you look, so simple and candid. just you in your own little world. his fingers practically itch for a camera.

raising a hand before calling out your name, jungkook is unable to stop a smile blooming across his face when you snap your head up. he comes over to you, out from all the bushes like it was a totally normal place for someone to be. you can't help but stare at him like he's go an extra head when he finally reaches you, hair all mussed and eyes wonderfully bright. he smells vaguely of women's perfume and cigarette smoke but fuck if you don't gulp a little at how delectable he looks, leaf in his hair and all. "fancy seeing you here, noona."

"i could say the same," you lean to peer over his big shoulder, quirking a brow. "jungkook, why were you in the woods?"

he looks back with you to inspect the path he came from. "i was in the woods?"

"yeah," you laugh, his dopey expression making warmth flourish in your chest. he looks so loveable when he has no idea what's going on, eyes all big and mouth hanging open like an endearing dumbass. the urge to kiss him hits you out of nowhere. "i'm um, guessing you don't come to this park often?"

"i do! i've been here like," he counts his fingers. "twice? once sober." he looks down at his feet bashfully. "i'm actually a little lost."

"i hadn't guessed," you grin up at him, gesturing, "the entrance is way on the other side, over there. if you keep walking this way and then turn left at the-"

"i'll just wait until you're done," jungkook insists, plopping down on the grass next to you. his shirt wrinkles up around the belt to extenuate the flat of his stomach, settling into the ridges of what quite obviously are his covered abs. he looks so innocent from the neck up, round eyes blinking at you through his hair innocently like he isn't all hard edges and stiff lines from the shoulders down. a wolf in sheep's clothing and all that. "if you don't mind, that is? i don't know if you realised but i'm not exactly good with directions."

"you're right. if i let you wander off alone i'll probably see your face on the news tomorrow. just gimme a minute to pack all this-"

the gentle hand enveloping yours stills you. "please. take your time," jungkook hums, letting you enjoy the warmth of his touch before settling back with his palms in the grass again. "i don't mind relaxing here a little while anyway."

you open your book again upon his insisting. "i won't be too long, promise. this fucking pond is just being difficult."

"looks pretty perfect to me," he muses, pretending to inspect your work when really he's inspecting you.

it goes straight over your head though, too enthralled in getting the lines right, getting every stain of colour placed where you want it. you made the dreariest looking pond look like a glittering lake, alive with colour and life that didn't exist in the real world. he scans the other page; more trees, dogs playing with owners, cloudy skies and orchids, so many orchids even though this park had none. you clearly had a liking for them.

"it's definitely not perfect," you laugh, wetting your brush and softening more edges. "but that's what i love about painting. perfect doesn't exist. or even desired." he hums in agreement, no longer able to look at your art, only you. the way your lashes gently flutter, a dimple forming at the side of your mouth when you purse your lips. you were so easy on the eyes jungkook doesn't realise he's staring until you break the silence. "so are you gonna tell me why you're lost in the park or are you gonna make me guess, slick?"

he grins. "you have three strikes, noona. use them wisely."

"booty call?"

"damn," he huffs, head tilting back while listening to your victorious laugh. "listen, it wasn't exactly a booty call. that would imply i met jane before," he pauses. "i mean joy. wait, jennie?" he scratches his head. "what's your friend's name again, jisoo? definitely not her..."

"ask your dick, he'll probably remember. do you want me to give you two some privacy?"

"what's it to you?" jungkook laughs, nudging your shoulder with his while he gnaws his bottom lip, because it's not like he was about to admit that jane/joy/jennie was the third girl he slept with this week to get you out of his head. it was slutty even by jungkook's standards, and even then it still didn't stop him from secretly hoping you'd at least get a tiny bit jealous - and at best, curious to take their place.

"nothing, nothing," you throw him playful look. "i'm just another art hoe sat in the park, who am i to judge?"

he laughs again, nose scrunching up cutely. "how did you find this place anyway?" jungkook peers around the fence of trees, making the area feel so much more secluded, as if the rest of the world was off somewhere else. "i never knew there was such a big pond here."

"neither did i, until jimin."

"jimin?"

a nod. "he brought me here a few years ago, back when i was," you don't know how to finish, wetting your lips. "back when i was going through a tough time. family issues and all that. he said everyone needs a place to scream and cry and this was his, so he gave it to me too. it also just happens to be very pretty."

you can feel jungkook's inquisitive eyes on you, regarding how wistful you look remembering the days you and jimin would come here every week for some respite from life. it all seemed so long ago but like yesterday at the same time, as if walking around in a dream. it's jungkook that lulls you back to earth with his velvet soft voice. "you know it's weird, i know jimin hyung inside out, have done since we were kids. when he's mad, upset, whatever it was," he pauses thoughtfully. "but i don't think he's ever opened up to me about his feelings. anyone, really. he comes out here to scream but he can't like, talk to people?"

"jimin's like that," you agree. "everyone thinks because he has a million friends he's an open book, but it's the opposite. i've known him all this time and he's never even cried in front of me!"

"same," jungkook sighs. "weird. especially since he was, like, the biggest crybaby from ages four to sixteen."

"sixteen?" you laugh. "seriously?!"

"you have no idea! one time as a joke i asked if he was crying even though he wasn't, and he got so annoyed he started crying," jungkook snickers, eyes crinkling happily while he falls about in giggles with you. "but then he grew up, went to college. gets himself some pussy every time he's upset now, i guess."

"it sounds awful when you put it like that!" you pause. "maybe it is a little awful."

jungkook shrugs. "it's the easy way out, is what it is. doesn't make him a bad guy."

you prod him. "are we still talking about jimin?" you're met with another nudge before continuing. "what i mean is he's always thinking of others, that jiminie," you shake your head fondly at the thought of him, and jungkook sees your affection for him etched all across your face. "i keep telling him that processing other people's emotions for them isn't healthy, but he won't listen to me. have at it when you get the time."

"what was it?" jungkook asks. "the emotions he processed for you, i mean?" he raises a brow when you make a face at him. "or do i have to reach level fifty before unlocking your tragic backstory?"

"try level one hundred," you scoff, hauling yourself up to collect your things. "now, do you wanna go get some coffee or sit here and talk about our abandonment issues? choose carefully, you only get one."

"coffee," jungkook scrambles to pack your art supplies for you, making you laugh. "coffee, coffee, coffee!"

"jiminieee!" you call out across the house, kicking the door shut behind you after letting yourself in. you're glad you never threw out your old key because it came in handy during times like this, when jimin couldn't answer a text to save his life. he usually wasn't so m.i.a. but that didn't mean he didn't have his moments from time to time. you just assumed maybe he had a girl over, in which case you had no problem eating all the snacks in the kitchen and playing video games with taehyung until he was done. "why didn't you pick up, i called you like, twice today! anyway i was thinking, do you-"

you stop dead in kitchen, surprised to see hoseok there with jimin. it's dead quiet, heads snapped to you like they've only just stopped talking upon your arrival. you can't help but blink back at them, a little dazed, unsure what you just walked in on. but before you can think too much about it, hoseok is shooting you one of his sweet smiles. "hey, ____!"

"hey hobi, uh," your eyes skirt over to your best friend nervously. "didn't think i'd see you here..!"

"hyung just came over for a catch up," jimin says, which is about as much of an explanation as you're gonna get. "sorry i missed your calls, i left my phone upstairs. everything good?"

"yeah i just," you shuffle closer to jimin, a habit you had when you felt uneasy. even though there was nothing to be uneasy about, so to speak; you and hobi had been texting regularly for a couple weeks now, so it's not like you had a reason to be so skittish. so why do you get the nagging feeling there's something you're missing? you ignore it in favour of jimin's pleasant expression. "i was wondering if you wanted to go see a movie? that new horror film just came out and i'm free tonight, so..?"

he strokes your back apologetically, venturing dangerously low. boyfriend territory, so to speak. "sorry ____, but i have so much work to catch up on before this weekend! remember irene noona?"

you lean into him involuntarily. "yeah?"

"she's having another thing on saturday. i really wanna go but i gotta submit my project first," jimin explains, his gentle caress along your spine enough to lull you into submission alone. "but hobi can go with you! you're free tonight, aren't you hyung?"

"um," hoseok wets his lips, eyes darting between the pair of you. "yeah. yeah, i'd love to take you for a movie, ____. if you don't mind, that is."

"oh, yeah of course not! that sounds great," you pat jimin's chest briefly. "too bad you can't make it though. next time?"

"next time," he nods, and you do your best not to shiver when he squeezes your hip.

you're still in denial all the way to the movie theatre, right up until hoseok pays for the tickets and the popcorn and the good coke. there was no denying it after that: you were officially on a date with jung hoseok.

and it was the first of many. because hobi was funny and understanding and sweet, planning around your schedule and picking things you liked to do. even if you cancelled last minute or opted for a night in, he was so chill about it all. if there was a definition of prince charming in the dictionary, hobi's face would be plastered next to it, his name in glitter cursive. this is further supported by the way he brings you flowers before taking you to a fancy dinner he saved up for, all the way uptown.

evidently, it was only natural that your first kiss with him be perfect as well.

"oh, hoseok!" you coo, plucking the fresh lillies from his hands happily. his cheeks burn with excitement, because you only ever call him hoseok when you're sincerely touched. he follows you into the kitchen while you put the flowers in some water, like a puppy on a leash. jimin was right, he muses. this way, everybody wins. "they're so beautiful! you really shouldn't have, i can imagine these costing a fuck tonne..."

"don't worry about that," hoseok says, stepping closer to you when you finally face him. he looks awfully dashing in his dress shirt and pants, hair swept back to reveal even more of his bright, handsome face. he reaches for your hand gently. "i'm just glad you like them."

"i love them," you smile, his heart fluttering with how pretty you look in that moment, all sweet features and a sweeter dress. "no one's ever given me flowers before, you know. maybe i'll sketch them tonight, so i remember forever."

"no need," he chuckles, taking another step. you're close now, awfully close. the richness of his brown eyes throws you, studying your face with the most gentle smile in the world. before he looks down at your lips. "i'll buy you flowers for as long as you'll let me."

hoseok reaches up to cup the side of your face, feather light and soft. he waits for you to pull away, and when you don't he leans in to meet you half way in a short, honey-sweet kiss. his lips are just as soft as they look, just as plump as you'd imagined. you sigh into his mouth when he kisses you again, a bit longer this time, falling into his chest for more before hoseok pulls back with a glittering grin.

"come on," he says brightly, tugging your hands. "i busted my ass for that reservation, so no tardiness!"

you hum with a nod, clutching his hand and letting him lead you out.

but of course, you got there on time. dinner was perfect, the food was delicious, the weather was lovely, absolutely everything was just right. and yet when hoseok kisses you goodnight at the door, you wonder why your chest feels like it's got a chunk missing. like scraping the bottom of a tub of ice cream for a piece of cookie dough and not finding any. you pad into your room, waiting expectantly for hoseok's got home safe text that he never forgets to send. you're so caught up in your head trying to figure out if the chicken you had at dinner is what's making you feel off, before your phone pings! right on time. but then you do a double take at the id.

[unknown number 9:28pm] hey it's slick :) just wanted to ask why you let me walk around with a leaf in my hair the other day. awfully mean of you noona

[unknown number 9:28pm] this is jungkook btw in case u havent guessed

[unknown number 9:29pm] unless im not the only guy u call slick...?

the laughter that bubbles up in your chest is so potent and refreshing you find yourself falling back into your bed in a fit of giggles, eagerly unlocking your phone to save jungkook's number. you had totally forgotten to anticipate his text in the weeks hobi kept you busy.

[you 9:32pm] thanks for clarifying, ur actually slick #4. jimins #5 if that helps

[you 9:33pm] you didn't pay for my coffee so it was revenge

[you 9:33pm] plus you Might have looked a bit cute

[jungkook 9:35pm] are u kidding

[jungkook 9:35pm] i got u those overpriced chocolate things which was like 4 coffees

[jungkook 9:36pm] ahhhhh there it is :) i knew u had a thing for me

[you 9:38pm] they're called croissants jungkook

[jungkook 9:38pm] idc lets go back to how u think im cute

[you 9:40pm] i thought you didnt like me calling u cute

[jungkook 9:41pm] ill take what i can get in this fuckin drought

[jungkook 9:42pm] my plan is to run with the cute thing until i evolve. charmander was cute in the beginning too but then he becomes charizard n everyones like woahhh

[you 9:43pm] are you literally 7 yrs old. am i talkin to ash ketchum rn

[jungkook 9:43pm] pls dont be silly noona ash was 10

[you 9:45pm] so older than u then

[jungkook 9:49pm] can we stop talking abt pokemon now im trying to flirt

[you 9:50pm] dont say that or ur ash hyung will be sad

[jungkook 9:51] i actlly hate u

you're so busy laughing you almost miss hobi's incoming message. you should have replied then and there, but the influx of jungkook’s messages keep you occupied.

[hoseok 9:43pm] got home safe xx

[hoseok 9:43pm] had a lovely night with you hun xx wanna meet before class tomorrow?xx

"you're having boy trouble, aren't you?" is the first thing taehyung says when you drag him out of his room. and he's not wrong. jimin's out so it's safe enough to take the conversation to the kitchen, tae's smirk over his coffee mug only making you flinch harder. "well?"

"i mean," you tap the table nervously. "sort of? it's just not something i wanna talk to the girls about. or jimin either for that matter. unfortunately you're the only neutral party i have to indulge in."

"charmed. so what did hobi do?" he asks simply. "eat the nuggets off your plate? propose a threesome before the third date? wear denim on denim?"

"...one of those is not like the other, tae."

"you're right. if he took your nuggets the fucker wouldn't be even be alive right now."

"but to answer your question, no he didn't do anything. in fact, i'd go as far as saying he's been so perfect it's starting to make me think he's a hologram or something. some kind of sexy robot designed to charm women but he broke out of the lab and now we're dating."

he gives a snort of derision. "come on, he's a guy. there's gotta be something gross about him."

"nope! he dresses well, smells good, never late, texts me back," you hold your head in your hands dramatically. "he even finishes his political arts essays extra fast just so i have an outline for when it comes to writing mine. the guy is a saint."

"so why did you drag me out of my room during wank hours?"

"jesus, taehyung! it's one in the afternoon!"

"well?"

"i just!" you throw your hands up comically. "i think there's something wrong me! he buys me flowers, texts me good morning...so why don't i have butterflies? why aren't i rushing to reply to him? just the other night i left him on read for ju-for some other guy. i mean, half of me is like if i don't feel something then that's valid but the other half of me is wondering why? why do i feel like i ordered the wrong drink at a coffee shop and i only realised after the first taste? like, it's not a bad drink at all, it's actually quite nice. but it's not what i wanted. you know?"

he raises a dismissive hand to your rambling. "answer me this. do you wanna fuck him?"

you pause, mulling it over. "yeah, i guess."

"you guess?"

"well i wouldn't say no," you admit, huffing as you shift your mug between your hands. "because he's crazy hot and a great kisser, if that's any indication. i'm sure he wouldn't let me down. but i have cause to say the same about you and probably half of jimin's other friends too, so."

taehyung rolls his eyes. "well, ignoring the fact that that was possibly the most tepid compliment you could have given me," he leans across the counter so you can't miss the way his eyes bore into you. "if you're not desperate to fuck him, and i mean getting so excited you shiver a little every time he comes within a meter of you, then that's that. game over, case closed. you should never have to guess whether you wanna fuck a guy or not."

"but he's doing everything right," you wail childishly. "and it's not like i don't like him taehyung, i do."

he shrugs to that. "right. you just don't like him enough to continue dating him on your merry way without coming to me for advice? come on, listen to yourself! the guy's half way to asking you to be his girlfriend, if there's no spark now then what are you waiting for?"

"but maybe there will be! eventually! i definitely like him more and more the longer we've been dating," you counter. "isn’t that worth waiting for?" you groan when tae does nothing but shoot a pointed look in reply. "fine, i'm making excuses. but in my defence if you had to break something like this to jimin you'd be stressed too."

"jimin?" taehyung repeats, brows furrowing. "what does he have to do with this?"

"i mean he pretty much set us up. he's super invested too, he remembers when i need to text hobi back more often than i do." taehyung chews on the information. it doesn't sit well in his stomach and it shows, his lips pursing and his legs jiggling restlessly. "at least it put an end to jisoo and seulgi's crazy idea that jimin liked me. weird though, i didn't think guys would give so much of a shit about their friends relationships."

"yeah, weird," taehyung grumbles, effectively switching the conversation to what he knows will distract you before you can clock onto his pinched expression. "speaking of friends, jungkook says you two have been talking a lot recently. that true?"

"oh, yeah. yeah, i guess," you suddenly find your empty mug very interesting. "we text a bit. went out for coffee a while ago."

taehyung double takes. "coffee?" a pause. "like a-"

you silence him. "don't say date. don't you dare say date. i swear to god if you say date i'll make you a new coffee and pour it in your lap taehyung, i'll do it."

he smirks. "did he pay?"

"no, i got the drinks. but he got the pastries."

"but did he order any pastries?"

silence.

"it was a date."

"no it wasn't!"

"how are you feeling about friday?" jimin asks quietly, lips pressed into your hair so the words come out muffled.

you're half asleep against him, it's one of the few times you're snuggled up into him and not the other way around. you're not sure what trashy romcom is playing anymore, all you know is that jimin's chest is so comfortable under your head, his body so warm with yours cradled into it. you yawn before answering, burying your nose into his soft hoodie. "lunch with hobi? we have lunch together all the time, why would-?"

"no," he says softly, pulling back slightly to look at you. "the other thing."

you meet his eyes, and then it hits you. "oh." a heavy beat. "i-i totally forgot. i can't believe i forgot..."

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have said anything," he apologises, tucking you further into his arm. you hope your heating cheeks don't give you away with how close you are against him, breathing him in like you would a lover. you're so entranced by his flushed lips and tender expression that you barely listen to what he's saying. "it's good that you're with hobi that day, though. keep you distracted a little, you know?"

"yeah," you hum, but it doesn't keep the sinking feeling out of your chest.

"i only brought it up because i wanted to cook for you that night," he smiles. "i'll make that pasta you like, we'll play some video games. it'll be fun."

you gaze up at jimin in that moment and you hear the words he won't say loud and clear: i don't want you to be alone. your affection for him surges and you think he can see it in your face, because he smiles back at you with a tenderness you don't see often. you shiver a little when he brushes some hair from your face, his touch lingering ever so slightly to the point where you think he just might kiss you. he doesn't, of course. he never has, and never will.

"that sounds perfect," you say finally, dropping your head back into his shoulder to hide your flushed face if anything. you wrap a tight arm around his middle, a silent thank you, and he resumes his cheek tucked against your head.

the next day it rained.

the kind of rain that comes out of nowhere. one minute jungkook was flying down the road with all the windows down and namjoon hyung's playlist blasting and then the next it's pouring, the sound of raindrops hitting his truck so loud he thinks maybe it will leave a dent on the bonnet. jungkook's just glad he got his sunset pictures done and dusted before the downpour, because fuck if his photography degree didn't rest in the hands of the weather forecast at this point. he has enough time on his hands to consider squeezing in a smoke with namjoon before maybe heading out for the night or even seeing what yoongi hyung is up to, but all that goes flying out the window when jungkook sees you. again.

you. standing in the street in the pouring rain outside the post office like a fucking crazy person. you, with no coat, no umbrella, not even a jumper. it's like you've seen a ghost and you're too scared to walk through the door, or maybe you are the ghost. swerving into the curb in a haphazard park, jungkook doesn't know. all he knows is that if the rain doesn't sweep you away any minute now then the fucking pneumonia would.

"hey! noona, what are you doing?!" he screeches through the open window. you just stand there, dumbstruck. even when you finally hear jungkook's yelling, it’s like his voice slips through one ear and out the other. "hey! are you fucking insane? it's pouring!" jungkook shouts above the downfall. you still can't move. "____, get in the car!"

you probably wouldn't have if you hadn't looked up to see jungkook's face, twisted in disbelief and what also appears to be worry. cars honk at him from how badly he's parked, butt of the truck sticking out in the road. he stopped for you...

he stopped for you. so you get in the car.

"are you crazy?!" he asks again as he frantically rejoins the traffic while you fiddle with your seat belt, so sopping wet and freezing that you slip and slide with the buckle. jungkook helps you just like last time, reaching over to click you in before glancing back at your face. you're absolutely drenched, hands wrinkled and hair dripping, clothes soaked through to the bone. and even though you're shivering in the passenger seat with barely any semblance of sanity, your grip on the little blue envelope in your fist doesn't falter. "why the fuck were you just standing there?"

"i," you start, but the words freeze up. "i, um..."

jungkook eyes you like the mad person you most definitely are, and you don't blame him. you look mad. you feel mad. out of sorts, like your spirit is floating around your empty body and the only reason you can't hear her yelling is because the sound of the rain is drowning it out. your chest heaves, air not coming into your lungs fast enough, pulse pounding in your ears. "put on my hoodie," he snaps, gesturing to the seat behind yours. "do you see it, the red one?"

you twist in your seat after a shaky nod, clambering around before grabbing it and tugging it over your head as you're told. it's so big and soft, so warm and so...jungkook. your eyes flutter shut when you bury your nose into the fabric, breathing in the smell of him. fresh laundry, soap, the faintest cologne. and something unmissably sweet. you don't know why but your eyes suddenly brim with tears.

"hey," jungkook says nervously, not knowing how to handle this. "you okay?" another beat. "you gonna tell me why you were out in this goddamn monsoon, or?"

you finally turn your head to look at him, really look at him. silver bracelets glimmer from jungkook's wrists while he drives, his hair matted and sticking up at the back a little. his muscles are hard, you can see the bulge of his biceps. his jaw is sharp, his mouth pursed into a line unhappily, but his eyes are soft. his voice is soft. his hoodie is soft. "i was," you look down at the envelope. it's crumpled and sodden but you haven't let go of it. "i was going to post this. i mean, i wasn't. well, i might have, but..."

jungkook steals another glance because he still has no idea what the fuck is going on. "you couldn't have taken your indecisive ass inside the post office to do all that?" you go quiet again and jungkook's chest feels tighten for some reason. "what kind of letter is so important you'd get drenched for it?"

"it's not a letter," you mumble. then, louder, "it's not a letter, it's. it's a card."

"a card?" he frowns. "like a birthday card?"

you nod. it's hits you then, like a punch in the gut: the shame, the utter embarrassment of it all. of jungkook fishing you out of the rain like this so you don't catch a death wish of a cold, bundling you up in his car like a little kid who got lost. but that's what you feel like, a kid wandering around. a basket case with a birthday card. so it was no wonder your thoughts start to spew from your mouth like projectile vomit but in word form. "remember, um," you gulp, trying to reign in your racing mind. "remember i told you i had, uh, family issues?"

jungkook peers at you, eyeing the road nervously between pauses. "yeah..."

"well, um," you scratch your head, hair flat to your scalp from all the rain. you ruffle it, irritated. "long story short, it's that. like i know i showed you my sketchbook and let you watch me paint in the park and rush to draw flowers before they die but all that stuff is...it's the reason why i'm here. i love it, i love art and it's who i am but if i didn't i probably wouldn't have been caught out in the rain and you probably wouldn't have come found me and-"

he shakes his head. "woah, woah. you're not back tracking far enough, what are you talki-"

"my family," you gasp. "they're not like me. they're not like me at all, jungkook, but i tried to be like them. my mum's a brain surgeon and my dad's a chemical engineer and my sister's a physics professor in some fancy university and i was gonna be just like them. i was gonna throw out all my paint and charcoal and be medical biologist, but i couldn't do it. i tried so hard for so long, but. but i couldn't do it," you're faintly aware of the tears sliding down your cheeks. "why do you think i'm friends with jimin? or rather, that he's friends with me of all people? we met through mutuals and by the time i dropped out of my science degree he was the only one who would still talk to me. i would have been living out of my car for eight months if it wasn't for him."

"what?" he eyes you frantically. "what do you...?"

"my family renounced me. cut me out of their name, threw away all my stuff, kicked me out the house, removed me from their will. everything you can think of, they did it. they're smart after all." you start to laugh at how ridiculous it all was, even though you're crying, even though you're angry, even though you're conflicted. "we haven't spoken in years."

"wait, just wait a second," jungkook tries to keep up. "they disowned you because you decided to be who you are and not what they wanted? what kind of pathetic idiots would throw away their own kid over something like that?"

"because their reputation is everything," you sigh. "you don't get it, jungkook. the kind of name they made for themselves is some top dog shit. they publish papers and take part in groundbreaking research like it’s a hobby. for them to say that one their esteemed daughters dropped out of university because she wanted to be a painter or some shit is a disgrace to their reputation."

his mouth visibly upturns, like he's tasted something bad. "they're the ones who are the disgrace. god, what fucking assholes!"

"but maybe it's better to be an asshole than a dumb fuck," you wave the drenched envelope mockingly. "look at me! i stood outside in the rain because i couldn't decide if i wanted to post my dad a birthday card or not! they haven't spoken to me in years and i still send them a fucking card every birthday," you cover your forehead, embarrassed just from saying it out loud. "they probably set it on fire the second it gets passed the mailbox! they probably throw it straight in the trash and here i am, still sending it."

"but you didn't," he points out. "you still have it there in your hand, don't you? and it didn't exactly look like you were rushing to get inside when i saw you either."

"well yeah, because i think it finally hit me how stupid i am," you look down at your knees. "i just wanted them to know that i don't forget the important stuff. i'll never forget. if i don't post it today then my dad won't receive it on time for friday, and. god, why am i still calling him my dad when technically he's legally not even my relative anymo-" you wet your lips, shaking your head. "it's been years. it's been years. and they've never replied. the only one that's still holding onto this whole thing and getting hurt by it is me, so maybe...maybe it's time i end it. i've already moved on in every other way and this is the last thing that's left, the last tie i have with them, so...yeah."

you wait for it; the spiel of expletives that usually follows when you divulge your past. how your former family don't deserve you, how you should turn your back on them just as they did to you, how wrong they were and how much better off you are in the long run. all things that you whole-heartedly agreed with, if you didn't you wouldn't be here. but moving on isn't a straight line. forgetting isn't like waiting for a pin to drop.

"i can't believe you're related to such disgusting pieces of shit," jungkook starts, knuckles whitening against the steering wheel. it's the first time you regard him now that you've finished rambling, and you can finally see how livid he looks, his face pinched together angrily. "have they even seen your art, though? just because you aren't talented in the same thing they are you get thrown out? all those fucking degrees and scientific bullshit but they can't even see their children as people, what useless fucks," and then, out of nowhere, "do you want me to turn around?"

your head snaps up. "what?"

"the u turn is coming up," jungkook clarifies, looking over his shoulder to check his blind spot. you stare at him, wait for any indication that he's joking or just fucking with you. he takes your wary expression as hesitation. "i can go in and post it and you can just wait in the car, if you want."

"wh-what..?" you try again, unable to do anything but gawk at him.

jungkook regards your disbelief, sighing curtly. "look, my opinion about those pricks is just that - my opinion. at the end of the day it's your life not mine so i can't tell you to do shit. no one can. so if you want me to turn the car around to go and post that card for you, i will. i can't help you with the other stuff, but i can help you with that."

your eyes well up again, hands shaking like leaves. you hadn't even told jimin about the cards in order to avoid the scorn, and yet here was jungkook. a boy you had only met a handful of times ready to support a decision that even he didn't agree with. the feeling was as relieving as it was...foreign.

he wets his bottom lip while you blink away your tears hastily. "so?"

"no," you say finally. "no, it's okay."

he looks at you seriously. "are you sure?"

you nod. "yeah, i'm sure. could you just, um, take me to jimin's? i think seeing him will help me feel better."

jungkook nods, changing lanes for the new route. "does he know? about the cards, i mean?"

you shake your head with a tiny laugh. "no way, he'd flip a shit if i told him! you know how protective he is, he hates my family more than i do."

"well i'm not exactly far off at this point either," jungkook mutters, and you can't help but smile. it makes him smile too, the gripping feeling in his chest washing away at the sight of your shining teeth and dimpled cheeks. he likes the way you look in his big jumper, hair messy and eyes bright. out of all the sunset pictures he took today, he realises that none of them compare to you in his passenger seat right now. "do you think you'll say anything?"

"nah, there's no need," you pause thoughtfully. "he's making me dinner on friday. to get my mind off it all, you know? sometimes i really don't understand why he does all this for me, but..."

"he loves you," jungkook shrugs, and you can't help but wince like you've been pinched. "he said it himself, you're like family to him."

"really?" you chuckle. "what a sap."

"i told you. the nation's crybaby," jungkook smirks, pulling up outside jimin's place. he reaches out to touch your wrist when you go to remove his hoodie. "don't, you can keep it. don't look at me like that, i have like a hundred-"

"i'll wash it and bring it back to you," you take his hand before he can remove it. "thank you, jungkook."

"don't mention it," he starts, but you shake your head.

"not just for your hoodie," you say, the thrum of your heart suddenly in your ears again. you grip his wrist, tugging him over the console. it's like your body acts without your brain's permission because it's all over in a flash; jungkook's doe eyed face close to yours, your soft lips against his cheek in a short kiss.

his mouth is still hanging open slightly when you jump out his car and wave back cutely. he thinks maybe he imagined it, maybe he's about to wake up any second now. he's not sure why his palms are suddenly clammy and his heart is racing a mile a minute because lord knows getting his cheek kissed is the most innocent thing to take place in this truck, but he can't help it. the smell of you mixed with rain linger in the air and jungkook has to take a second to steady his hands on the wheel, fix his breathing like he's a fifteen year old who's never been within an inch of a girl before. for the first time in years, he panics.

don't bite off more than you can chew, jimin had said. and suddenly jungkook hears it differently.

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loxxxlay · 6 years ago

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edit: i want to clarify that the post i reblogged isnt the only one ive seen. theres a shit ton of them, and ppl really do have some problematic viewpoints about makeup (on both sides) that need to be challenged. the post i reblogged was just the only one that got through to me

:/ okay so i didnt want to ask this question on the tags because, u know. thats rude lol, and also problematic, so im asking it here. i fully support that no woman should be expected to wear makeup or perform femininity. i think that the tax on femininity is fucked up. i hate the fact that there is this pressure for women to do damage to their faces, feet, and bodies that is so normalized. i myself don't wear makeup more than once every three months at most (and by no makeup, i l i t e r a l l y mean No Makeup. nothing. i guess thats kinda a lie bc i do put lotion on my face after hot showers, so i dont have flakes of drying skin falling into my lap every time i scratch my forhead because, surprise, surprise, dry skin itches. but i also put lotion on my hands and my ankles for the same reason lol. its not cosmetic. ill get acne with or without it. i literally just dont want to be as itchy as a horny baboon lol.)

however i will use up the allotted one time every three months (if even that tbh) to wear makeup for, say, my best friend's wedding, cosplay, a presentation to boost my confidence, randomly for fun, or... for a job interview.

and seeing posts that come down hard on makeup make me really insecure? which is MY problem. those posts should 100% be made, and my insecurity is part of the problem. but, im just curious because now that my worldview has been challenged, what do you guys think? is it exerting a problematic privilege to wear makeup ever at all? (which i can understand if so, but am i obligated to stop completely?)

like im very happy with my body, with or without. to me it feels more like art when i do things with my facee. but i never realized that i might be harming ppl and so now i really wanna understand :/

#makeup #feminism #random #lox talks personal

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kuriquinn · 7 years ago

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A Hole In The World [2/?]

Blanket Fic Disclaimer:

Title: A Hole In The World (continuation of this prompt)

Rating: T (for now)

Pairing: SasuSaku

Beta Reader: Not beta-read; check back at a later date for edits

Author’s Note: I was going to put this up a few days from now just to space things out, but a lot of people seemed confused about whether this was a time-travel fic or not, so I decided to post this early to give you guys a better idea of where I’m going with this.

サクラ

Sakura awakens to the sound of beeping monitors and an itch in her left hand that suggests someone has put an IV in. She frowns, not used to being on this side of the scenario.

“Sakura-sensei?” Ando asks, unnaturally tentative.

“What…happened…?” she begins, her mouth painfully dry. Her brain takes a few seconds to remember the prelude to her unconsciousness, but when she does she pnaics, shooting into a sitting position. “The poisons! They have hallucinogenic properties, and could be airborne! You shouldn’t be here, you can’t risk exposure!”

“It’s fine!” Ando cries, holding up a reassuring hand. “As soon as we got your message we locked everything down, and a team was sent in with protective gear to retrieve you. The room was completely quarantined and the science team even checked the air quality before going in for you. But it was fine. You just passed out.”

“Did you scan me for poison?” Sakura demands.

“It’s not like I’ve been working here for months or anything,” Ando grumbles, but at Sakura’s warning glare he quickly adds, “There’s nothing showing up. According to our tests, your vitals are find. If there was anything, it passed out of your system before we got there. You probably healed yourself. Though I have no idea why you passed out…do you do that a lot?”

“It was probably the energy expended healing,” Sakura muses with a frown. “Though I’ve been through much worse, it shouldn’t have hit me like that.”

It suggests whatever was in those containers was a much stronger poison than she expected.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else?” Sakura prompts.

“I’m sure. You’re fine. A little overworked and your make-up could use a touch-up, that’s to be expected after being unconscious for five and a half hours—”

“Sarada!” Sakura gasps in realisation. She swings her feet around, scrambling to get out of bed. “I have to pick her up!”

“You don’t have to worry about her,” Ando assures her. “Your mother called when you didn’t show up. Your daughter’s fine. In the meantime, you should stay overnight and sleep a little more.”

“I can’t, I have to be there to pick her up…”

“Ehm…maybe I’m not saying this right,” Ando hedges. “Your mother said if I let you come home without getting a full eight hours of sleep, she was going to…um…do something rather unpleasant to some rather important body parts.”

Sakura narrows her eyes. “And what do you think I’ll do if you don’t let me go?”

“No offense, but your mother scares me more than you do. You’d at least come for me face to face…I think she’d kill me in my sleep.”

“One of these days I’m going to have to figure out how my mother has managed to terrify every man in this damned village,” Sakura grumbles, sitting back on the cot. She huffs and then makes a dissmisive motion with her hand. “Fine. But if I’m going to be here, I want you running every test we have. Something happened to me, even if I’m not showing symptoms anymore. I want to know what it is.”

“That I can do,” Ando agrees.

サクラ

There’s a backlog of tests being run in the lab, and although Sakura could use her clearance to speed up the process, she doesn’t like to flaunt her privilege unless she has to. There’s nothing wrong with her at the moment, and she’d prefer the labs be working on the sick and dying than her.

Instead, she heads home to shower, then goes to pick up Sarada from her parents. She ends up agreeing to stay for breakfast, which as it turns out, is a good idea; she is surprisingly ravenous.

“I don’t remember you eating this much in ages,” Mebuki remarks as she shovels more steamed rice and natto into Sakura’s bowl. “The last time you had three servings of breakfast was when you were training with Lady Fifth.”

“You’re like a hungry clock,” Kizashi adds. “You’re keep going back four seconds.”

“Grandpa,” Sarada groans, though there’s a tug at the corner of her mouth; just like Sakura used to do at that age, she pretends to find her grandfather’s jokes lame.

“Actually, the last time I ate so much was when I was pregnant with this one,” Sakura says, absently reaching over to wipe a speck of soy sauce from her daughter’s cheek. “She really liked natto…”

“Mama!” Sarada protests, craning away from her.

“Well if you weren’t eating so quickly, you wouldn’t get food all down your front,” Sakura reminds her. “What are you in such a hurry about, anyway?”

“I have training to do,” Sarada insists importantly.

“Not until you finish your breakfast, you don’t,” Mebuki returns before Sakura can do so. “You need to eat enough to keep your energy up. And that means eating slowly, so you don’t get an upset stomach.”

Sarada opens her mouth to protest, but Kizashi agrees, “Many a true word is spoken ingest.”

This time it’s Sakura who groans, while Sarada folds her arms in front of her chest. A lump forms in Sakura’s throat because she looks so much like Sasuke when she does that!

She’s even becoming more like him, in terms of attitude.

These days, Sarada has become very quiet and withdrawn, devouring the books in their house and at the library related to the shinobi arts. She knows Sasuke is a talented ninja, because of all the stories she’s heard about him; Sakura has always told her everything about her father that she could without alluding to his mission or the darker parts of his past. And it was never a question that they would raise her as a shinobi, so in many ways this sudden studious interest is a good thing. It will serve her well when she starts the Academy in a few months.

But Sakura suspects it has more to do with Sarada trying to feel close to her father by living up to the standard he set.

One of Sarada’s tomes on well-known techniques among the clans of Konoha is always open to the chapter on Shurikenjutsu; Sakura has watched her daughter determinedly try to master it in their yard. Sometimes she wonders if she should teach her Katon, if only to help Sarada feel closer to her clan’s traditions, but she can’t get past the feeling that Sasuke must be the one to do that. Not just because he’s Sarada’s father and the patriarch of the clan, but because for him it’s such a personal thing to share.

But that brings us back to the fact he has to be here to teach it, Sakura thinks sadly.

None of them expected Sasuke’s mission to take as long as it is, and she thought he would be back before it really had an effect on their daughter.

Some days, no matter how important she knows his work is, she wishes she had argued more, or that Naruto had refused to let him go. Not that Sasuke responds well to ultimatums, but ever since the war, when Naruto offers him an opinion, he considers it. Seven out of ten times, he’ll even agree; it’s the other three that are so tricky.

It’s a rare day off, and so she tries to put all of this and the issues from the hospital out of her mind, instead running errands with Sarada in tow. They pick up groceries, shop for new shoes and clothes for Sarada—she’s growing like a weed!—and stop in to see the newest Princess Yuki movie—one of the many sequels to the Princess Gale films Naruto was so crazy about when they were kids.

All the while, Sarada remains quiet.

Later that evening, long after one of their usual quiet suppers for two, Sakura wonders if she ought to speak up. She doesn’t often ask Sarada what’s wrong directly—much like Sasuke, Sarada will insist there’s nothing wrong—and prefers a tried and true method of wordless coaxing to encourage her daughter to open up.

Just as Sarada climbs into bed, Sakura opens her mouth to ask, only to be interrupted with a question.

“Mama, what were Grandmother and Grandfather like?”

Sakura pauses for a moment, confused, and then realises that she’s being asked about Sasuke’s parents.

“I…well…” she considers. “I never met them before. They died a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

“But I think Grandma did know your Grandmother Uchiha a little bit. Maybe she could tell you a little more about her,” Sakura suggests.

Sarada’s eyes go wide. “Really?”

“Maybe,” Sakura repeats. “I don’t think they knew each other very well. But…it’s still more than I did.”

“What about Uncle Itachi?” Sarada asks, sitting up eagerly in bed. “You met him, right?”

Sakura hesitates here.

Neither occasion was exactly optimal; in one he was a deadly enemy who would have killed them all if their presence interfered with his elaborate plans—the other was in an alternate universe where it wasn’t technically their Itachi Uchiha.

“Briefly,” Sakura says. “He was a good man and a loyal Konoha shinobi.”

“What was he like?”

“You’ll really have to ask your Papa that when he gets back.”

Sarada sighs, unhappy. “So, I’ll never know.”

“Don’t say that,” Sakura chides, tapping her daughter on the forehead in affectionate reprimand. “Papa will be home soon. And you can ask him all of this.”

I hope…

“Now, it’s time for you to go to sleep. I have to be at the hospital for the morning shift, so we’re going to get up early and bring you to Grandma and Grandpa’s house.”

“I don’t wanna get up early…I’ll be tired all day.”

“So you can take a nap later.”

“Naps are for babies!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot,” Sakura laughs, and begins to rise.

“Mama, can I have a story before bed?”

She sits back down. “Which one?”

“Indra and Shachi.”

Sakura’s heart clenches a little at this.

“Don’t you want to wait for Papa to come home and tell you that one?” she asks gently. It’s always been their special story, even though Sasuke is careful to end it before it becomes too dark. Sarada isn’t old enough yet to hear the entire thing.

“You tell it better,” Sarada insists, a stubborn look on her face that is painfully reminiscent of her father.

Sakura sighs, because every day, Sarada is a little more critical and a little angrier about her father’s absence.

And yet, she always asks for this story, so as angry as she is, she still misses him an awful lot.

The whole things is beginning to affect her socially, which has Sakura worried.

She practically grew up with Boruto Uzumaki; they were inseparable. And how could they not be, given who their parents were? The amount of times Sakura would come pick Sarada up from the Uzumaki household to find Boruto, Sarada and Himawari curled up under a blanket on the couch, snuggled up like little puppies. She’s taken an embarrassing number of secret photos to show Sasuke when he returns.

But…that’s just the problem,

He left; Naruto didn’t.

Boruto and Himawari could go home at the end of the day to a mother and a father; Sarada couldn’t. And Sakura’s daughter noticed, because of course she did.

She stopped wanting to be around them, to the point where she’d pick fights with Boruto, and throw a fuss whenever Sakura tried to bring her for playdates. Not long after, the same thing happened with Inojin, who Sarada suddenly proclaimed was too weird. Ino mentioned that she started getting distant when Sai began to teach their son his Chōjū Giga.

As if it’s any mystery why that would upset her…

“Mama?”

Sakura shakes her head, coming back to the present, and says, “Alright then, if you’re sure.”

She begins to relate the familiar tale, stroking her daughter’s hair as she does until the child drifts into slumber.

When she rises, her thoughts are jumbled. She usually tells the story without thinking much about it—she’s told it so many times, and considering she’s already lived it (after a fashion), it has the same consistency in her brain as a well-loved memory.

Except it makes her think about what happened in the lab today.

The last time she started to have strange dreams without warning, she spent months reliving a past life.

That was triggered by my pregnancy, though, and I’m not pregnant now.

Honestly, it felt more like that time she and Naruto were dragged into that parallel dimension of Obito’s. Except, in that case she was actively pulled through a portal and stuck there until Naruto got them out.

So what was it? Could it be work stress?

She doesn’t sleep well that night, her mind puzzling over the mysterious contents of the box, and analysing every detail she remembers from her dream.

Or hallucination.

On top of all of that, Sarada’s worries needle at her. With that sense of helplessness in the face of her daughter’s questions, an overwhelming longing fills Sakura, for the man who has carried her heart so very far away.

サクラ

The next day, Sakura wakes dizzy and nauseous; it feels like she remembers the flu feeling, though it’s been many years since she’s been sick. Ever since she unlocked the Byakugō she doesn’t have to worry about that sort of thing.

She brings an equally grumbling daughter to her parents’ house, and heads to work, feeling like her head is a wind tunnel. The whole day she slogs through her work, delegating as much as she dares to. It even comes to the point that she is forced to hand over the C-section to one of her most promising subordinates, although she observes from the gallery in case of emergency.

At the same time, she marks down observations about her condition in a notebook, trying to find some common symptoms that will clue her in to what’s happening. Halfway through the procedure, Ando wanders in with a folder that has her name on it and hands it to her. “All of the tests we ran came back negative.”

“That’s not possible,” Sakura snaps. When he flinches, she sighs and apologies, “I’m sorry. This is just frustrating…”

“I’ll keep looking.”

“Thank you.” He begins to leave, and then pauses, a startled expression on his face. “You’re…you’re bleeding.”

“Huh?”

He points to her face and she raises her hand, touching her face just beneath her nose; her fingers come away red.

Alarm bells ring in her head.

“Do the tests again,” Sakura says quietly. “Leave no margin for error, and if there’s any test you haven’t thought to run yet, run it anyway. Even if it’s completely unrelated. Whatever’s going on might show up in an unexpected test.”

“Y-yes, boss.”

He runs off to do just that and Sakura reaches for her notebook again, jotting down another symptom.

Nasal hemorrhage…never a good sign…could the contents of those vessels have had a slow-acting neurotoxin, or—?

All of a sudden, her body seizes.

Her limbs go rigid and her head slams backward in her chair as the operating room and gallery vanish around her.

サクラ

Sakura’s world jerks and she is suddenly standing in the middle of an unfamiliar street, stumbling forward.

“Sakura!”

Someone catches her and when she looks up, there’s Sasuke again—the Sasuke from her dream. He isn’t dressed in the police uniform this time, but a high collared shirt similar to the one he wore as a genin, and neatly pressed trousers.

“What’s going on?” she demands, looking around. “Where are we?”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, his brows drawing together incrementally.

“The…I was in the…?”

Sakura continues to look around, noticing tiny details about the place that tell her she isn’t in a completely unfamiliar location. She’s been here before, only…only it was a lot emptier. Her attention pulls away from her panic long enough to consider the people wandering past; people who look familiar but aren’t. Her recognition of them is based on traits that she has come to know personally in the past decade.

Dark haired, fair skinned, black-eyed people, wearing the clan crest she adopted almost seven years ago.

“This is the Uchiha district,” she says, swallowing against the subtle, panic-induced tightening in her throat.

“Last time I checked,” he agrees, sounding wary. “Sakura, what’s going on? Is this that “pregnancy brain” you were telling me about?”

She doesn’t answer him.

“This is wrong,” she murmurs to herself, watching several children wearing uchiwa symbols on their back chase each other through the street. “This…this can’t be here. I can’t be…am I unconscious?”

“It’s happening again, isn’t it?” Sasuke interrupts, his tone anxious and accusing. “You said you were fine at the hospital.”

“I have no control over what Dream-Me says or does,” she shoots bag, aggravated and short-tempered in a way she rarely is with her Sasuke.

“That’s it,” Sasuke shakes his head. “We’re going back to the hospital and getting those tests you didn’t want. And you’re calling Iruka tonight and telling him you’re not coming in tomorrow.”

“Iruka? Why would I talk to Iruka?”

“They can find a substitute for you. They should already be looking, since your leave will be starting soon anyhow,” he continues. “This is why we talked about you taking it earlier—”

Right. In this world I’m a teacher, apparently. And—

“Hold on,” she snaps. “I don’t know how things work in this universe, but there is no reality where you get to boss me around.”

His eyes widen a bit in surprise, and then he sighs. “Hormones.”

Sakura narrows her own eyes. “You did not just say that.”

Her impending murder of her Not-Husband is interrupted when someone suddenly calls out his name.

They both turn around, just in time to see an older couple saunter out from a nearby storefront. Sasuke curses under his breath, probably unhappy that their discussion is being interrupted. But he turns and bows his head in respect.

Hold on…what? When has Sasuke ever…?

“Uncle Teyaki, Aunt Uruchi,” he greets them, allowing the woman to draw him in to a hug with an expression of uncomfortable tolerance.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you, boy,” the man says, and then turns clever black eyes on Sakura. “And who is this?”

“This is my wife, Sakura,” Sasuke explains.

Oh, good, I’m not expected to know these people.

“Er…pleased to meet you,” she says for want of anything else.

The couple exchange what is clearly an uncomfortable, significant married-couple look, as well as a silent conversation, and then paste smiles on their faces.

“Ah, yes, we had heard you got married,” Uruchi says. “Congratulations.”

“Bit of a rush, wasn’t it?” Teyaki chuckles nervously, glancing at Sakura’s middle. “I suppose we know why now.”

Catching the implication, Sakura opens her mouth to snap back at the person, but Sasuke’s arm squeezes around her shoulders in warning. She intends to shrug him off, but finds his hold on her is heavier than expected.

Frowning, she tries to pull free, only to find that she can’t.

She has no strength.

What kind of world is this?!

“Now don’t mind him, he’s being rude,” Uruchi speaks up. “We all understand that circumstances don’t always work out the way we hope. You make sure you come by this way more often, dearie, you seem like a nice girl. And we make the best senbei in the village. It won’t upset your stomach or the little one’s.”

She smiles kindly at Sakura.

“That’s assuming they come back,” Teyaki points out, and then raises an eyebrow at Sasuke. The gesture is eerily similar to Sakura’s husband’s; she really isn’t used to seeing his mannerisms on anyone else but her daughter. “I take it you’re here to speak with your folks?”

Sasuke grunts in reply—at least his dislike of sharing personal information is the same.

“I just want to know what’s taken so long,” Uruchi harrumphs. “You and that father of yours are so stubborn—”

“Well, if it isn’t the runt of the family.”

Someone appears by their side, so swiftly and silently that Sakura suspects he used Shushin; he’s curly haired, and with a smile and a casual, friendly demeanour that reminds Sakura instantly of Kakashi.

“Long time no see, little cousin,” he continues, and then ruffles Sasuke’s hair in a way Sakura has seen her husband break ribs over when Naruto used to try it.

Instead, Sasuke simply jerks away, shoving the other man and snaps, “Knock it off, Shisui!”

Shisui…I think I know that name…

Sakura tries to remember what Sasuke told her about him, long ago; an older cousin, his brother’s best friend and something to do with Danzō Shimura.

“Forgive me, princess, I didn’t realise you still took offense to having your hair messed up,” Shisui replies without a hint of bother over Sasuke’s attitude. He faces Sakura and offers her a friendly smile. “Hello there. Allow me to introduce myself since my favourite cousin is too emotionally stunted to do it.”

“Shisui,” Uruchi chides.

“That’s my name.”

“At least you know that much,” Sasuke grumbles.

Shisui doesn’t seem put off by Sasuke at all. “Hey, when are you going to stop kissing ass at the police force and come join ANBU like your brother and me?”

“About the time you quit.”

“Ouch. I’m hurt. And here I thought it was because you preferred the cushy, safe jobs,” Shisui muses. “Or has uncle taken you off the roster already?” Sasuke grits his teeth at him. “Ah. I take it that’s one of the things you want to discuss with him tonight?”

There’s something entirely too innocent about his tone.

“Does everyone but me know what’s going on here?” Sakura asks out loud.

Sasuke suddenly turns to face her, eyes wide. “Sakura!”

“What? I’m just pointing out the truth here—”

“Catch her, before she—”

“I’ve got her—!”

The world tilts like she’s being shaken and Sakura tries to fight it. “Sasuke, what the hell—stop!”

But then the familiar swooping sensation of being ripped from her sleep overtakes her, and the world shifts.

サクラ

She awakens on the floor of the gallery; Ando has been trying to rouse her, apparently, and when she wakes the first thing she notices is his inability to disguise his fear.

Ando stands over her, unable to disguise his fear.

This isn’t going away in a hurry, she realises as control returns to her body.

“Book a lab and make sure no one but you and I have access to it. And tell no one about this—I don’t want to start a panic until it’s necessary,” Sakura tells him grimly as she pushes herself to her feet. “We have work to do.”

つづく

Reviews and constructive criticism are much appreciated! Also, if you are in a supportive mood, I have a ko-fi button at the top of the page, or you can find my tip jar here.

Thanks for your interest in my work!

クリ

Next Chapter

#naruto fanfiction #sasusaku #rating: teen #for now #legacy of fire series #sfw #blank period #parallel universes #meet the family #sakura haruno #sarada uchiha #sasuke uchiha #mebuki haruno #shisui uchiha #ando (oc)#drama #adventure #romance #kuriquinn

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kieren-fucking-walker · 7 years ago

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I saw that post you reblogged abt asking lgbtq+ questions and ive just been wondering about myself recently like, i have a sex drive but i get grossed out when i think abt sex with other ppl, like in the context of me having sex with other people. I wonder if that makes me ace? Like i can think this person or celebrity is hot as hell and i totally would make out and stuff but just not sex? But then i also have a sex drive so idk how that works

Hi there!

Sexuality is a confusing and weird thing at the best of times but sex drive can really throw that up in the air for you when it comes to asexuality so I know that can be really difficult and I hope I can help some.There are kind of a lot of factors in play so I’ll put this under a cut to avoid clogging up people’s dashes but I hope it finds you anyway.

First off I want to say that sexuality has nothing to do with your sex drive. Your sex drive is simply a desire or impulse to have sex or experience sexual satisfaction. Plenty of asexual people experience this, it’s just that for most of us it’s essentially aimless and not directed towards other people. If you have an active sex drive you get turned on and experience arousal, but that doesn’t mean you’re attracted to other people in a way that makes you want to have sex with them. Think of it like masturbation, if you do it you don’t want to do it because you’re attracted to yourself, you do it because you’re aroused and it feels good/ works as stress relief/ scratches an itch etc. Being able to get aroused doesn’t mean you find people sexually attractive, it just means your biological functions are active. Sexuality is defined by how a person feels attraction, not by their behaviour.

I’m going to talk about levels of interest in sex. It’s like most things, on a spectrum, but for the most part it falls into one of three categories:

Sex Repulsed, Sex Indifferent or Sex Interested (I use interested instead of positive because sex positivity is a movement rather than an interest marker.)

Sex interested people are just that, people who are interested in sex. They come in all sexualities, including asexual, because this is to do with how interested they are in taking care of their sex drive through partnered sex. Being sex interested doesn’t necessarily mean you experience sexual attraction, it just means you’re open to and interested in having sex for biological, emotional or psychological reasons. Some people aren’t sexally attracted to people but enjoy partnered sex because it feels good, or because it helps them feel closer to a partner, these things have no bearing on their level of sexual attraction.

Sex indifferent people are people who are not bothered by the idea of sex. They have no real desire to have and don’t seek out partnered sex for the most part, but they aren’t disgusted by the idea and may in some circumstances consider doing it. For sex indifferent people partnered sex may be similar to doing laundry, they don’t love or hate doing it they just do it to take care of something (usually their sex drive or a romantic partner.)

Sex repulsed people are people who are either repulsed by the idea of engaging in sex, or just repulsed by the idea of sex in general. The idea of having sex with someone is unwelcome and uncomfortable and they have no desire to seek out sex, even if they have a high sex drive. If they are a person with a high sex drive and who experiences arousal they would never seek to take care of that arousal through partnered sex. However, the level of revulsion is important, some sex-repulsed people are repulsed by anything and everything to do with sex, some are fine with everything (kissing, grinding etc) up to the point of actual intercourse. Most fall in between. The majority of sex repulsed people tend to be asexual however it is entirely possible to find someone sexually attractive but have no desire to act upon that attraction.

From what you’ve told me this sounds most like you but I’m wary of giving you labels so I’d rather just present the info and let you decide.

Moving on to types of attraction:

Sexual attraction: When a person finds someone attractive in a way that indicates arousal. Finding someone or a set of traits hot or sexy and usually having a desire to have sex with that person.

Romantic attraction: When a person finds someone attractive in a way that indicates wanting to have a romantic relationship with them. Many people who’re asexual may experience romantic attraction even if they don’t experience sexual attraction, a lack or romantic attraction is called aromanticism.

Aesthetic attraction: When someone sees another person as attractive, nice looking, handsome or beautiful, but does not feel any desire to be in a romantic, sexual or sensual relationship with them. Think of it the way you find art nice to look at or finding flowers pretty. It’s finding someone appealing to the eyes, pleasing to look at but not wanting to have sex OR a romantic relationship with them. They’re just nice to look at.

Sensual attraction: When someone sees another person or persons and desires to do sensual (but NOT sexual) things with them. Cuddling, kissing, hair stroking, holding hands, being physically close in ways that aren’t sexual.

These are all ways you can be attracted to someone and play a part in your sexuality. Attraction comes in many forms and finding someone attractive does not at all mean you want to have sex with them. And finally, types of Asexuality:

Asexual: A sexual orientation characterized by a lack of sexual attraction to any gender. Asexual people can have any level of interest in sex, any level of other attractions and any level of sex drive, but they specifically do not experience sexual attraction to other people. (Also used to refer to the full asexual spectrum)

Gray/Grey Asexual (aka Gray-A/Grey-A,Gray-Ace/Grey-Ace): The most common definitions are someone who only occasionally or rarely experiences sexual attraction, or under very specific circumstances. Can also refer to experiencing a very weak attraction, an attraction that is unsure to be sexual, or people who unsure if they are asexual or not.

Demisexual: Someone who does not experience sexual attraction until a strong emotional connection is formed with the individual. (The emotional connection is not inherently romantic.) Considered in the gray area of the spectrum, though not all gray asexuals are demisexual.

I get that this is a lot of information to take in and that not all of it will be helpful, but I just wanted to give you a crash course in different areas that can all play a part in the feelings you’re having. Your level of sexual interest, sex drive and other attractions does not have any bearing on your sexuality, being asexual is ONLY a lack of sexual attraction. You can be highly sex interested, have a very active sex drive, find people romantically and aesthetically attractive and be asexual as long as you don’t experience seual attraction OR experience it in a way that matched to demi or gray sexuality. You can also find people sexually attractive, have a very high sex drive and be sex-repulsed or have very low levels of sexual interest. This wouldn’t make you asexual as you still experience sexual attraction (it may make you gray or demi depending on if you think these labels are a better fit) but you’re still sex-repulsed.

The main take away is that being any of these combinations of things is absolutely fine. How you decide to identify your own sexuality, attractions, levels of interest etc is down to you and you alone. That said, if you don’t think you’re asexual and having an aversion to sex is something that bothers you it’s totally okay to get a medical/psychological opinion on that. There’s nothing wrong with being asexual or sex repulsed unless YOU feel unhappy with it and you think it’s more than that. It’s all up to you.

I hope at least some of this has been useful in helping you to sort through the complexities of this kind of thing and PLEASE don’t be afraid to ask me more questions if things are unclear or you just want to chat or whatever. I’m not always around and I don’t know everything but I’m always willing to help out.

Here is a list of some more ace-related terms you might find useful.

#anon #ace stuff #ace #asexuality #advice #I guess #hope this finds you and helps a little #long post

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renaroo · 8 years ago

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Wednesday Roundup

The late but always reliable reviewer Rena is here today. I sat on this one for a while considering the... internet-wide discussion we all are a part of now given Marvel’s recent revelations from this particular Wednesday, and the fact that I have a Marvel comic (even if only one) on my Roundups today made me somewhat reluctant to fully get into this, but I had, personally, a good Comic Day and I would hate to waste the opportunity to share the good in comics going on right now with all of you. So we’ll see how everything stacks up, and just how I’ll be handling Roundups in the future as a result of the current... nastiness, we’ll call it.

DC’s Batwoman, Image’s Descender, Marvel’s Invincible Iron Man, DC’s Super Sons, DC’s Superman, DC’s Superwoman, DC’s Trinity

DC’s Batwoman (2017- ) #2 Marguerite Bennet, James Tynion IV, Steve Epting, Jeromy Cox

As worried as I was with the Batwoman: Rebirth issue -- and I think I laid out my concerns pretty fairly, I have to fully admit that my worries have been almost entirely subsided as we go forward starting with this issue.

I always have this concern when there’s a continued revisionist history of a character’s origins that we’re going to be falling into a Donna Troy affect -- where every author is more interested in retelling and retconning her history than actually allowing the character to be who she is and moving forward from there. A problem in comics that disproportionally affects female characters if you’re sharp enough to notice such things.

This issue really helped me to put down that worry mostly because while, yes, we are revisiting Kate’s past for the hundredth time in the last ten years, the story proper is actually pushing us and her forward rather readily while not shying away from the aspects of Kate that make her Kate.

Her loyalty, her issues with commitment, her homosexuality -- everything comes into play this issue and leaves us itching for more involving these Many Arms of Death plot overall. I’m very excited about this comic and am so glad that Maguerite Bennet is becoming such a good fit for it.

Image’s Descender (2015- ) #21 Jeff Lemire, Dustin Nguyen

So I just recently got caught up on Descender in time to review the newest issue the week it came out, so I have to give major thanks to @feministbatman for recommending this comic to me. What can I say, you know me so very well and my love for robots and sci-fi has been incredibly rewarded for it.

This issue was another brilliant one, we had Tim-22′s reveal and takeover of the ship, but we also got to see a lot more development of Andy and Effy thanks to Bandit’s little vision quest of sorts for us.

But of course the most anticipated and worrisome part of all of this is worrying for Tim-21 who is still in Psius’ hands and at the heart of the Havester plot that keeps on thickening.

It’s hard to say much else.

I will say that while I’ll always be a fan of Nguyen’s signature style, I do find at times the choice to make this entire comic watercolor rather than more inked and refined does do some disservice to certain moments I think could benefit from having stronger color and more definition to them, but that’s a general criticism I’ll probably dive more into with the wrap up of this arc.

Marvel’s Invincible Iron Man (2016- ) #6 Brian Michael Bendis, Stefano Caselli, Marte Garcia

An entirely all-female supporting cast to a female Black superheroine Ironheart with our token dude (Tony) being a computer AI. It’s the setup dreams are made of and I love how much love Riri is getting in the media and the world for her choices here.

It’s also incredibly relatable how she reacts to being in her idol’s workshop, the idea of her “using it as her base” is unfathomable and her geeky cries of “THIS IS HOLY GROUND” had me literally laughing out loud. I loved it, and I loved how much agency and voice is given to Pepper as Rescue. So often when a young new hero takes over an identity, the trailblazers before them get left out (looking at you Captain Marvel, though you did make up with it in a pretty good issue yourself).

There’s just so much to love in this comic and I’m glad that at the end of the day, even with all the Women in Science, it doesn’t diminish Riri’s single mom who works a 9-5. That relationship, you can already tell, is going to be monumental moving forward.

Great issue, great introduction to Riri. Am looking forward to seeing more of her.

DC’s Super Sons (2017- ) #3 Peter J. Tomasi, Jorge Jimenez, Alejandro Sanchez

To put things simply: This book might be one of the most amazing things that DC is putting out right now and if you have absolutely any interest in it at all, I would highly, HIGHLY recommend you pick it up because this is some a-grade fun. I adore having this book to look forward to and the antagonism as it comically plays out between Damian and Jon is easily some of the best stuff I’ve read with Damian’s character since the Robin: Son of Batman comic.

Which, if you know how much I flatly adored that comic, should obviously be taken as pretty high praise.

That being said, there’s some issues. Damian’s skin tone is not being protected enough by the editors and the whitewashing, especially compared to how good DC’s Rebirth comics have been about it in other series, is very distracting and supremely disappointing.

Jon has grown on me very quickly and while I will continue to talk about my longing for Chris Kent and my apprehensions about the continued theme of biological kids erasing the bonds of adopted kids, this is a good comic overall.

DC’s Superman (2016- ) #21 Peter J. Tomasi, Patrick Gleason, Mick Gray, John Kalisz

In this episode of “how is an evil cow taking down Batman” today, we get no such answers to no such questions, but we get a giant octopus monster fight with Superman, Superboy, and Robin and -- really -- isn’t that the content anyone really comes for in a Superman comic.

Once again, Jon’s heat vision is out of control and kills something, but rather than it being another moment of horror and reflection for him, as his father was trying desperately to save the creature’s life along with the citizenry of Hamilton, but the entire town seems to turn on Superman and praise Jon over him for “doing what is necessary.”

Now, this might be me reading too much into this (and read: it is) but this seems honestly like a huge commentary on the values of classic heroes like Superman being put in stark contrast to the blood thirsty and fear mongering of the public today. Too often we praise the most immediate and final of reactions rather than the harder and grayer solutions which Superman is supposed to be able to give us.

And considering how awkward the praise heaped on Jon feels in this issue, and the surprise revelation at the end, I’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to like that a life lost unnecessarily is being celebrated by everyone around.

Damian and Jon are still a ruckus and everything is still very intriguing. This is definitely my favorite Superman run in a long time.

DC’s Superwoman (2016- ) #9 K. Perkins, Stephen Segovia, Art Thibert, HI-FI

So here we are starting off with a new creative team and resetting my Rule of Three, which for anyone new means that I give new runs and new comics 3 issues to hook me before deciding how to handle the series moving forward. And considering that I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the last two or so issues of Jimenez’s run, I’m not completely objecting to a bit of a change up in the creative team.

This issue is dealing with the fallout of the Superman Reborn storyline and mostly about Lana dealing with once more being powerless, and how that makes her feel conflicted. I felt like this dealt with Lana’s emotions in a much more respectful and loving way that the last issue did, definitely, but mostly the issue read as filler before we get into the next arc which’ll be starting with #10.

So here we go into curiosity. I’m very interested in where this new team is deciding to take us.

DC’s Trinity (2016- ) #8 Cullen Bunn, Emanuela Lupacchino, Ray McCarthy, HI-FI

Another issue, another tie-in, another creative team change. Now, I’m going to be flat honest with you: I have absolutely no explanation for what happened in this issue. And I’m not doing that for comedic effect, it’s just honest.

This definitely felt like more filler before we get to somewhere beyond all the crossover events and can instead return to Trinity’s desperate attempt to find its own status quo. Something that positively worries me because its predecessors in spirit, Superman/Batman and Batman/Superman, never really cohesively found that groove for themselves.

For the time being this feels like after the first arc, this series has become something of a place for reactionary storytelling -- basically paid advertisements for bigger events going on in the rest of the DCU.

I desperately hope I’m wrong, I really liked the first arc and would like to see more friendship-centered adventures between DC’s Big Three, but I’m going to officially move this series to trade-wait if things don’t change by the next issue. We’ll see.

So this has been a rough week for comic fans, there’s no getting beyond that, and this Roundup was at least in part held back due to my own concerns about just how much the fallout of some truly bad decisions over at Marvel was going to play into my own feelings toward comics this week.

I feel, overall though, I had a good pull this week, and while some were a little lackluster and have gained my reservations, I overall really loved my Super Week. And of my Super Week I definitely have to give my favorite issue to Super Sons, which has just turned out to be a spectacular gem to follow and I’m very glad for it existing.

But how do you all feel about this week? Any comics I missed you think I should try out? Any disagreements with me on this week’s picks? I’d love to hear from you!

#Rena Roundups #Wednesday Spoilers #SPOILERS #Batwoman (2017 )#Descender (2015 )#Invincible Iron Man (2017 )#Super Sons (2017 )#Superman (2016 )#Superwoman (2016 )#Trinity (2016 )

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realrhythmskrp · 8 years ago

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DISPATCH, 03/30/17: Prime Media has officially released information about “Eros,” main dancer, lead rapper, and vocalist, Choi Haesoo, on AEON’s official website! Haesoo is a ‘93 liner and has been beloved by fans since his debut in 2016. Find out more about Haesoo below!

I, CHOI HAESOO, have read and understand the terms and conditions as my position of EROS and agree to honor the standards that are to be expected of me as an employee of PRIME RECORDS.

OOC INFORMATION

Preferred name: steph.

Pronouns: she/her.

Timezone: cst.

Other muses: none applicable.

IC INFORMATION

Faceclaim: kim jongin or “kai” of exo.

Name: choi haesoo.

Stage name: none.

Idol concept: they were given the concept of being the “joker” of the group as well as being the foundation. though this isn’t necessarily a lie, haesoo is so much more than friendly jokes and a steel-strong shoulder to lean on because what the public hasn’t understood yet is how hard of a worker that haesoo has been to get that role of eros, all the strenuous nights of practicing alone in their company’s dance rooms or the amount of the tears shed from exhaustion. their concept is partly true to the point where haesoo has felt no need to hide his childish and care-free personality to their fans, letting all of his teenage ways and unadulterated filters let loose, but behind closed doors, he’s more human and more mature to none other than his members.

Birth date and age: november 17, 1993 / twenty-three.

Company name: prime records.

Group Name: aeon.

Group Position: eros / main dancer, lead rapper, vocalist.

Strengths: .o1 strength !! dancing. ↪ he came to dance so he stays to dance. haesoo’s been dancing since he was practically a toddler, from ballet or hip-hop, it never mattered, but dreams of bringing his dance to life through other people became a burning passion that would never die. dancing is the only thing that he’s ever been confident in because he dedicates long, hard hours towards the activity –– especially when looked for, everyone knows to find the main dancer practicing in one of prime’s practice rooms, dancing until his feet are bled sore and mind went numb. dance is definitely a strength for haesoo because dance isn’t a hobby, it’s his lifestyle. and whether it be cooperating in making prime’s choreography or creating his own at times, haesoo knows he could really divulge into that special area while being a main dancer of a co-ed group. it’s close enough to his dream that he’ll ever get. .o2 strength !! fan service. ↪ true to his concept, haesoo is one of the members who’s very outgoing out of the bunch; someone who’s the type to not have grown out of his teenage and rebellious ways, and to have fun with the fact that he’s a rising star, never too cocky nor to reserved. fans admire his passion to keep in touch with aeon’s fans whether it’s through instagram, twitter, or everything in between but haesoo knows that he didn’t climb his way to the top to just forget about the people who’s brought them there. it also helps that he’s a relatively good english speaker, all those trainee years desperately teaching himself for the sake of maybe going international, but haesoo tries his best to connect with his fans just how he would expect if he was a fan himself. fans admire his prospect of him for this and in return, haesoo hopes that aeon’s fans never stop believing in his musical passion as well.

Weaknesses: .o1 weakness !! vocalist. ↪ a man who can dance, rap, and be a good host towards a group’s fans were called something of a triple threat in prime records; someone who can go far in the entertainment business with all three of those traits. but that’s the thing –– that’s all choi haesoo could really do. he didn’t originally audition to be a vocalist nor did he ever think he would be put in a group that would maximize his english skills but once again, prime always keeps him on his toes. it took years of hard training and the push of his company to even belt out a single steady note, whether it be for backup vocals or to sing a verse of one of their songs, but haesoo still struggles with his vocals to this day and despite the constant reassurances from his group mates and fans that you’ve really improved, haesoo, really, the male doesn’t feel like he’s even made one a single improvement towards being a vocalist for aeon. .o2 weakness !! maintaining well-being. ↪ while one of haesoo’s strengths is being able to be a hardworking idol, those kinds of traits has it’s consequences and the certain member consequence tends to be selflessness. it’s not every day like a guy like him, someone who just took a couple of ballet and jazz classes as a kid, be scouted by prime records; he consider being in the group as a blessing and despite his parents’ worries during his trainee days if he’s fit enough for the idol life, haesoo made it his motivation in life to prove them wrong. prime records, his family, the anti-fans –– all his motivation to continue to grind, grind, grind until he’s perfected every move and could hit every note of aeon’s raps. it requires long hours, lessened hours of sleep, and continuous straining on his muscles; his manager and group mates all worry for him but he constantly reassures him that it’s fine because it’s all part of the job, right?

Positive traits: stoic, beguile, and progressive.

Negative traits: choleric, benevolence, and temperamental.

PERSONAL HISTORY

you’re a wicked child, a terribly wicked child. you have that foul glint in your pitch black eyes; you’re going to swallow the world right up with that immoral smirk, wicked child.

ii.

when choi haesoo was five, he fell in love with the art of ballet.

papers, magazines, commercials, all of local ballet productions and haesoo was like a child who’s achieved his highest potential, with wide eyes and nimble feet, the attraction was inevitable. he would coo and awe over the ballerinas’ light steps, always and ever failing at his own attempts to dance those precise actions and that’s when haesoo knew –– he had to be enrolled in ballet lessons.

his parents always thought that he was an odd child; a child who devotes his love and compassion towards dancing while his actions always loud and abrasive. it was almost as if haesoo knew that he was destined to dance as soon as he came out of the womb with an eerie aura of confidence and a subtle smirk the moment he had convinced his mother to enroll him for lessons.

–– and he was good at ballet. he could grand jeté and tour en l'air better than anyone else in his group, with that same level of confidence that was elicited from when he was five years old. haeso knew he was destined to dance.

when choi haesoo was ten, he had three ballet trophies and an itch to become someone.

iii.

when choi haesoo was thirteen, he met the second love of his life, a girl with a passion for optimism and jazz dance.

it was enriching, meeting someone who valued the art of dance and a personality to match. haesoo was alluring, cocksure, and arrogant while this girl was magnetic, fierce, and everything choi haesoo aimed to be as he grows older. he was fire and she was ice –– and haesoo was in love.

and so began the story where he begged his mother to enroll him into the same jazz lessons as the girl, promising to keep his grades up as well as his early success in ballet. he promised that he can become something more than just a ballet dancer –– that he’s going to become something big and make that girl fall in love with him. haesoo begged and pleaded until his mother said yes, without a trace of concern for his father, because with his confidence, he was sure that by taking jazz lessons that she was going to fall in love with him no matter what. his mother was ever so concerned as haesoo begged until there were tears brimmed in his eyes and a slight shake in his voice.

this was the first time haesoo ever cried as hard in his life.

( in the end, his mother said yes and haesoo beams. )

iv.

wicked child with your shining eyes; everything is handed to you by a silver platter but what ever happens when life doesn’t want your wicked ways? your bloodshot fangs and heavy heart? then what will you have left, wicked child?

when choi haesoo was eighteen, he experienced his first heartbreak.

it was nothing like how he’d ever imagine it because he’s choi haesoo, the town’s most prominent dancer with the art of mastering both ballet and jazz dance under his belt. he was at his prime for a teenager like himself, he should be grateful that he’s successful even if it’s just dancing. he’s the best damn dancer he knows, doesn’t that count for something?

( but haesoo finds out that life doesn’t revolve around dancing. )

the girl that he yearned to learn jazz dance for, the same girl that he’s spent five years desperately chasing and chasing until his feet bled numb and his mind grew foggy; the same girl who kissed his worries away and ushered him to audition for prime records because how could they not take you? you’re choi haesoo! left him for another and never looked back.

he’s left broken, terrified, and alone all because of her. he’s left with nothing but an unrealistic future and a mindset that he needs her to move on forward to be a successful in prime records. he’s nothing without her so why isn’t she nothing without him?

when choi haesoo was nineteen, he decided that heartbreak is another word for motivation. he picked up the broken pieces of his heart and entered prime records without a look back.

wicked child, you’ve come so far. with your blackened heart made of gold and a smile that flatters; what’s wrong, wicked child? was the world too wicked for a child?

when choi haesoo turned twenty-three, he finally became someone.

#ryt:accepted #ryt:aeon #ryt:prime #rythaesoo

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fashiontrendin-blog · 6 years ago

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I Tried the Watermelon Diet and I’ve Never Felt Better

http://fashion-trendin.com/i-tried-the-watermelon-diet-and-ive-never-felt-better/

I Tried the Watermelon Diet and I’ve Never Felt Better

In partnership with quip.

I feel like I have the facts wrong here, but in the sixth grade, my social studies teacher had us practice the art of the filibuster. In what should 100 percent be a game show, we were organized into some sort of pre-teen team bracket and took turns talking, yes, for as long as we could. So what does this have to do with a toothbrush? (This post is in partnership with quip; I’m getting there.)

The winner of the filibuster game was a kid named Conor. He wasn’t as focused on running out hypothetical lawmaking clocks as he was on polishing a standup routine. He had us belly-laughing in our seats; we never knew a class could be so fun. And then he spoke the sentence that I’ve yet to forget, two entire decades later:

“His teeth were all…mayonnaise-y.”

The class lost it, Conor started laughing too and the filibuster was over. I was stuck frozen in my chair. Mayonnaise-y teeth? I slicked my tongue from one top-back molar to the other. I was overcome with the desire to brush them. From that moment on, I vowed to have absolutely perfect dental hygiene.

Of course that didn’t happen. My flossing habits come and go with the moon’s cycle; I’m not a very consistent mouthwash user; I drink coffee; I do love mayonnaise; and sometimes, on very rare — I swear! — occasions, if I’m too tired, I’ll skip the pre-bed tooth scrub and overcompensate in the morning. It is on my constant to-do list to be better about my dental hygiene.

That’s why, when I realized Man Repeller was partnering with quip for a story, I jumped high into the air to participate: Me me me! I would like a travel-friendly electric toothbrush in one or both limited edition metallic shades of mint green and pink, with its own oblong space helmet that protects the bristles as it hangs out in overnight kits and straw baskets!

The team conceded, and though this wasn’t a contest, you could say I was the victor. Two new limited edition electric toothbrushes were mine, one in pink, one in green, just like a…watermelon.

Coincidence? I think not. Not only is watermelon the unofficial fruit of summer, quip dentist Dr. Hariawala said that “athough eating watermelon doesn’t literally replace brushing and flossing, its fibrous nature and high water content can help in preventing tooth decay by washing away food particles.”

(Take that, everyone who just judged my “skip nights” above.)

And from there, the self-appointed Watermelon Diet was born!

Requirements:

– Dress like a watermelon as often as possible – Embody a watermelon as often as possible – Just try brushing my teeth with some watermelon to see what it’s like – But also, bring my quip toothbrush with me everywhere and give my teeth a go after lunches – Eat watermelon and watermelon-like things – Become one with the one and only watermelon

Here’s what happened:

At first, this was harder than expected. I took “dress like a watermelon” far too literally and tried on an outfit so awful it nearly caused me to quit: a single-shouldered green and white top — the rind — plus a red skirt with brown buttons — the “flesh” (sorry) and seeds. After reevaluating what it could possibly mean to “dress like a watermelon,” I reminded myself that inspiration does not have to mean exact approximations.

Clockwise: Pepa Pombo top, Reformation skirt

Ganni pink leather jacket, Trademark green top, Stella McCartney jeans, MR by Man Repeller shoes

Anthropologie slip, Westward Leaning sunglasses, Tibi shoes, basket bag from Quip

J.Crew shirt, vintage Calvin Klein jeans shorts, Sachin and Babi earrings borrowed from Leandra

The results of round two’s soul-search-y style consultation:

– I remembered how much I like bubblegum pink and palm tree green together.

– A light pink nightgown that I haven’t had the guts to wear outside finally saw the light of day.

– I figured out the outfit-math equation for a giant pair of watermelon-colored earrings I’ve been longing to wear (add a green and white striped button-down!).

– And I busted out a winter-forgotten polka dot top because it reminded me of watermelon seeds. (You’ll see that later if you keep scrolling.)

Bambah top and vintage Calvin Klein jean shorts

Thanks to the outfits listed above, the only other thing I had to do was prioritize hydration and occasionally hang out with feta.

Sunglasses with pink lenses also helped. They gave me that watermelon-tinted-glasses outlook on life.

Oh, and I carried around a mini watermelon. It takes one to know one, I figured.

This was hard and weird, and I do not recommend it! Neither does quip, it turns out. (You can subscribe to receive actual toothpaste every three months for 5 bucks a pop, along with the brush heads — also $5.) Eating watermelon is far more fun and brushing your teeth “the normal way” far more effective — especially because I started toting my quip around just in case of photo opportunities, which meant I was encouraged to brush my teeth mid-day far more often than has ever happened.

Glad I did this one, given that I’m trying to be better about my dental hygiene and the watermelon-as-toothbrush thing didn’t totally work. The fact that the quip toothbrush was watermelon-colored not only made my teeth feel sparkly fresh after tricky salads (it has a two-minute timer that lets you know to keep on keepin’ on and when to stop), it satiated my unquenchable watermelon itch. Also, speaking of itch, vibrating toothbrushes make pretty handy backscratchers.*

*Like using watermelon instead of proper tooth-brushing, quip does not recommend the back-scratch thing, either.

You don’t have to tempt me with a good time. I ate so much watermelon, I can’t even tell you. But also, I ate watermelon-colored sorbet, watermelon and avocado (sounds weird, but it’s really good), drank watermelon juice and snacked on loads of watermelon radish. Watermelon radish rules and is also a lot of fun to play with.

Our resident makeup expert, Imani, suggested I do watermelon makeup for the watermelon diet. She selected the shades so I couldn’t mess it up and then fool-proofed the instructions. The look was not for me, aesthetically speaking, but do you see that look I’m giving my new best friend, the watermelon? It’s one of camaraderie. And a bit of flirtation.

So where do we go from here, given that the watermelon diet isn’t a diet after all but rather a lifestyle, and that I am now a fully committed loyalist? Besides the fact that I want you to know my dental hygiene is far superior than it was even a week ago thanks to quip, I would also like to declare that, at 1115 words, I believe I just won the filibuster.

Get your own quip here and show me your smiles in the comments below!

Feature photo by Heidi’s Bridge.

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realrhythmskrp · 7 years ago

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DISPATCH, 06/25/17: Prime Media has officially released information about “Eros,” main dancer, lead rapper, and vocalist, Choi Haesoo, on AEON’s official website! Haesoo is a ‘93 liner and has been beloved by fans since his debut in 2016. Find out more about Haesoo below!

I, CHOI HAESOO, have read and understand the terms and conditions as my position of EROS and agree to honor the standards that are to be expected of me as an employee of PRIME RECORDS.

OOC INFORMATION

Preferred name: steph.

Pronouns: she/her.

Timezone: cst.

Other muses: none applicable.

IC INFORMATION

Faceclaim: kim jongin or “kai” of exo.

Name: choi haesoo.

Stage name: none.

Birth date and age: november 17, 1993 / twenty-three.

Company name: prime records.

Group Name: aeon.

Group Position: eros / main dancer, lead rapper, vocalist.

Positive traits: stoic, beguile, and progressive.

Negative traits: choleric, benevolence, and temperamental.

PERSONAL HISTORY

you’re a wicked child, a terribly wicked child. you have that foul glint in your pitch black eyes; you’re going to swallow the world right up with that immoral smirk, wicked child.

ii.

when choi haesoo was five, he fell in love with the art of ballet.

when choi haesoo was ten, he had three ballet trophies and an itch to become someone.

iii.

when choi haesoo was thirteen, he met the second love of his life, a girl with a passion for optimism and jazz dance.

this was the first time haesoo ever cried as hard in his life.

( in the end, his mother said yes and haesoo beams. )

iv.

when choi haesoo was eighteen, he experienced his first heartbreak.

( but haesoo finds out that life doesn’t revolve around dancing. )

when choi haesoo was nineteen, he decided that heartbreak is another word for motivation. he picked up the broken pieces of his heart and entered prime records without a look back.

wicked child, you’ve come so far. with your blackened heart made of gold and a smile that flatters; what’s wrong, wicked child? was the world too wicked for a child?

when choi haesoo turned twenty-three, he finally became someone.

#rythaesoo #ryt:prime #ryt:aeon #ryt:accepted #ryt:revampapp

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