#like ive got some fries here . and the whole time i was cooking them i had to restrain myself from seasoning them with curry powder

[kykybunny1]

realizing i can add anyhting i want to a food to make it taste how i want is awesome. but it has also caused my to either 1. cook it in barbaque sauce or 2. put curry powder on it and it is so hard to resist them

[werewolf-femboy-maid]

me after another episode (multiple meanings)

yes, another "keep reading" this is gonna be fun

guys :"0 I got cooked by my own stupidity (malnutrition, dehydration, inconsistent sleep schedule, adhd, bpd, lack of self awareness, lack of discipline, not doing breathing exercises when upset, trauma, broken phone I didn't have money to pick up today, stupid university applications I still need to do, red40 from last night and undiagnosed autism) again, look it me the fried.

dude I was not having it man. Idk if it was the red40 again or im just a genuinely horrible person. I must hate people, I must not give a single shit about anyones feelings, im super selfish and I only care about my own useless opinions and feelings.

I literally do property damage. I littered today. I am just the worst person. and yet I am not "that guy". how can I be this shitty of a person and not be "that guy" but noOoOo if I even TRY to be violent he threatens me with the police. (I unbuckled and opened the passenger side door to see if I could just die while he was driving and slapped him multiple times at a later point not while he was driving)

I screamed so much guys it hurts I don't want to be alive. this next story was from a month or two ago already but yeah basically one day I decided to steal my potential mother's in law alcohol and now she's hiding it from me :}}}}

I am so happy with myself! look at what a trustworthy and safe and loving person I am with her son! wow what a great way to introduce myself to this new family that welcomed me wow (she even took me to a pride parade when my bf couldn't because of work. they've both taken me at least once by now)

wow and I told his catholic grandma that I hope god sends me to hell (she wouldn't stop talking) (yes im a bad person for that, that's the whole point of this post, to talk about what a shitty and fake and ungrateful piece of shit I am) (im looking for excuses to throw myself away because I cant take it anymore) (its either live a life of isolation or live a life of constantly making mistakes and "learning" and disappointing everyone in my life and constantly hearing shit from other people about how I don't clean up enough or how violent I am) (id rather die alone) (but im too much of a coward to break up) (wow I cant believe my selfish incompetent ass could ever want kids) (how sadistic could you possibly have to be to look at my miserable useless genetics and think I should have offspring) (its so delusional to even think for a second I was ever capable of a happy and normal marriage or life) (I will never be a good mother) (I will never be anything to anyone except another mouth to feed and a danger) (if my only two options is complete isolation or learning by listening to other people criticize my actions (which I inevitably think is my character) without getting violent, then I would rather be in complete isolation) (well I want to choose complete isolation) (but im a fucking coward and im addicted to substances so I don't want to leave yet) (im such a horrible piece of shit) (yes im making my mindset as shitty as possible just like he says I always do on purpose) (idk either, I don't know why I do that but I think its a subconscious coping mechanism that worked at some point in my life (I think I realized early on that if I just overwhelm myself to a crazy amount, I won't be physically be able to think anymore, and then I don't have to process the yelling) (I think that might be what happened and why I always instantly try to make my problems as bad as possible so I don't have to think about them because ive already lived out the worst possible scenario by the time im too tired to process anything else)

e

the world is evolving too fast for primitive humans like me. I can barely start researching EVEN TOPICS I AM INTERESTED IN and I cant stick on the screen for more than 30 seconds before I have to close the laptop and there's too many things

I don't even answer my messages, not here, not on snap, not text, not email, not anything, not reddit or anything I just don't interact. I don't even go to Omegle because I cant find the "right time"

its such a stupid fucking lie the "right time"

I don't even talk to many people on pony town. im so fucking sad, like talking to people was my thing

and I always say I am gonna shut up and I never actually shut up because I forget, I hate my voice so much rn I cannot just shut up, im sure everyone that knows me wants me to just kill myself so (I was distracted by a conversation irl here)

I mean yeah idk

its just survival of the fittest at this point, it is just faulty systems dying out and making way for stronger organisms. (this isn't about poverty or classism, fuck all that)

I don't think realistically anyone is cool enough to picture my head on a platter, and I don't think even more realistically that anyone actually wants me to straight up die. I could be wrong tho. maybe some day I'll pull someone's last little straw, and my food will finally be poisoned and I can just die! :)

he almost finally broke up, but he took it back like a fucking retard. I hate love so much, it's all a lie. "love" is really just a retarded coping mechanism where these people cant live without each other, but trying to understand each other is fucking hell, and either way, both parties are fucking miserable.

I have so much privilege and im wasting it all

my life is so nice and I am ruining and wasting every second. I could be so happy right now and I am throwing it all away because the world and myself make me believe I am a useless piece of shit, and the sooner I throw myself away, the sooner these people can heal and move on with their lives.

JUST SAY IT SAY IM SELFISH

SAY IM A FUCKING SELFISH PUSSY

IM A SELFISH PIECE OF SHIT

I WILL NEVER SCREAM LOUD ENOUGH

have some fun gifs

11 year old me doing my 30 math questions and daydreaming about being a Pokemon character for 7 hours after another screaming match while my younger brother finishes his homework faster and plays video games all day (oooooh that's what happened...)

:))))))) help me help me im about to die but not really because I was never brave enough to finally go

I need to go

I ne hhhhhh what's the point of this. im just talking to myself again like I always have. I didn't even drink water today. really? just the red40 and more discipline IS THIS WHY IM SO SHITTY

I have so much privilege and things to be thankful for and people in my life who should've thrown me away a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG time ago, but they still sticking around anyway because they're all FUCKING RETARDED

this kind of mindset is why grape culture is still a problem (for those confused, im afraid im not referring to actual grapes. I wish from the bottom of my heart I was), because it's always the victim's fault for staying with the abuser. but now no one cares except the boy's family because he's a boy and is less likely to get [hysically hurt. I've already lost his trust tho. I guess that's what makes me even more not want to try, ive already ruined it. im still here in denial I guess. I lie to myself, "oh maybe sensory overload wont be that big of an issue if we have kids" "ill become more mature by then" "I can just discipline myself"

I had three fucking years. to just do my fucking breathing exercise any time im upset. and I cant even do that. I don't think I should be a part of society because no one will benefit from me. does this mindset also endanger other disabled people? yes it does. does this make me a bad person that doesn't care about other people? yes it does. I realized nature is so perfect because disabled individuals DIE.

I wasn't potty trained until 4, and I read somewhere that people who have anger issues tended to be potty trained later in life. so I guess im a shithead. I also had pneumonia when I was 3. I should've been dead.

don't worry about me I am very unlikely to die. im really just writing out my negative thoughts so I can stop thinking about them because I know I can just go back and look at this later.

I was tripping so many balls and I screamed so so loud out the CAR WINDOW....

there is no career for me besides the circus. except im not even funny, im just weird and annoying and violent. he's going to lose his job because of me. they're gonna pay more money to the apartment complex because I keep slamming the doors and breaking shit. I break so much shit I need to die. fbi please assassinate me at this point, I am literally only going to cause damage if I am kept alive. I should not have children. passing my genes down would be a crime. no human should live with such a poor miserable mind. im not doing that to my kids. I couldnt hope to ever apologize enough if I have a kid and they suffer the same way I did.

I have every blessing in the world and I somehow manage to be the most miserable scumbag piece of shit abusive person

he says he hates himself and he could not possibly hate himself more than I hate myself

idk what im even saying. I think my episode is almost done, but man the red40 is weird. im kinda at the point where im too tired to be angry and now im just kinda really tired and lightheaded and I cant pay attention anymore. my arms are weaker fingers cold.

I guess it was the red40 because I was doing alright but then I ate that last night. I also had another huge episode about a week ago (I broke up and also told his mom im breaking up) (yes and then I took it back after eating protein) (how am I still alive, you ask???) (please tell me idk either) ( my stress tolerance must be WILD) (im lowkey waiting for a random obsessive person to figure out the lore and say something mysterious or something idk I hate it when im in a rush and something is too mysterious and then I cant figure it out and it angers my poor fragile little ego) (yes im one of those people that give up on learning if im not good at it within 3 tries)

I suck at cleaning up after myself (I didn't clean the stove after cooking) and I forgot to mention I mopped the floors (there was grease on the floor and I didn't clean it when it was a puddle and it spread so I mopped the floor) but it's not useful to mop the floors apparently. just not as important as the stove because more stuff is on there. and the mop fuck I just feel so unappreciated but I also am aware that it makes sense that the stove is more urgent. I just keep putting my effort in the wrong places.

my movements are not steady I should drink water and eat something for the first time today

wait I had at least two dreams where I was screaming really loud but I couldnt hear myself what do those mean?

idk man I get torn between self pity and shame. its always one extreme or the other. its either "oh my god im so sad look at how sad it was omg why are people so insensitive when im obviously struggling?" or "omfg I cant stand

"you don't care enough to solve a problem, you only care enough to cause a problem" - my loving boyfriend whose family probably cant fucking stand me and is probably praying day and night for something to happen to me so I can finally be out of their lives

this is what I get for talking about my feelings. this is what I get. and he says im not paying attention to the context. maybe I am. maybe the devil is smiling as he separates us, a supposedly perfect couple.

I need to clone myself so I can fuck but also so I can kill myself and mutilate my dead body and wear my skin over my face and squeeze the blood from my heart into a basin of soju so I can take a bath in it and drink it all. i would also investigate the lungs if I remember to smoke with the clone before I kill it. dude smoking with my clone would be so cool but it would also make killing myself a little more sad

I think part of my problem is that one of my trauma responses is

Mind: oh man there's a lot of loud noise and hostile energy going around, and negotiating is not making it stop, what do we do? Mind: hmmmm how about we also get extremely loud and wear ourselves out so we physically can't process or do anything for the next 5 hours? Mind: wait excuse me what?

I wanna live in a little wood box alone in some forest for the rest of my life. I wouldn't be happy but id certainly be more comfortable. no person to please, no expectation from any human or animal, no task or thing I have to work on. just me, my delusions, and my little box. occasionally I will go and get food and water and that's it. I don't ever want to interact with anything again. I'll just die one day in the forest

which is what I would say if I wasn't a fucking pussy. im too scared to leave the people in my life and I love my mother too much. maybe I'll run away forever after my parents pass away. and I can be happy with my mom again. like I always wanted.

stay safe baby birds much love <3

and remember!

There's no such thing as the "right time".

[jjaedixk]

YAYYY your requests are open!!! ive been waiting hehe but hopefully im not too late :( if possible, can i request jaehyun’s reaction of him finding out you’re sick and then he takes care of you?

yayy, no honey you're not late at all! of course, hope you like it :)

ϟ 8:26 ϟ you woke up with a huge headache and noticed that jaehyun wasn't by your side. you sat on the bed still trying to fully wake up, but all you could think was that awful headache. so when you got up, you heard jaehyun open the bathroom door.

"good morning, honey" he said kissing your forehead. "how are you feeling?"

"i have a really painful headache, jae" you said and cuddled in his arms.

"let's give you some medicine, but first you have to eat something" he said pulling you by your arm to the kitchen.

while you were patiently waiting for him to make you some fried eggs, you felt your headache staring to get more and more painful. so you try to close your eyes and take the pain away.

you open your eyes when you feel jaehyun's hand on your shoulder. "is it that painful, sweetie?"

you just nodded and noticed that the eggs were already done. "so eat them for you to take the medicine"

jaehyun stayed by you side the whole time you ate the eggs he made, he just wanted to make you feel better because he knows how painful a headache can be.

when he leaned over to kiss your forehead he realized how hot your body was. "baby you have fever!"

you touched your forehead but couldn't tell how hot it was because your whole body was, in fact, hot. "baby, don't take this medicine, i'm going to get a fever medicine for you, wait right here"

as you wait for him to get the medicine, you finish eating your eggs. you were grateful that jaehyun cooks very well, because you can't cook by yourself, i mean, some eggs and rice you know how to cook, but other meals you need to search on the internet and follow the recipes.

"here, take it and we're going to bed for you to relax. you need the day off"

so you take the medicine and go to the room with your boyfriend, as you lay in the bed he chooses a movie for you both to watch. "do you want to watch a movie or do you want to sleep?"

"movie is fine" you said as he lays with you on your shared bed.

"thank you for taking care of me, jae" you said and cuddled him. "always, honey"

© 𝗷𝗷𝗮𝗲𝗱𝗶𝘅𝗸, 2020. please do not copy or repost any of my works.

[katsubiatch]

Hopelessly Devoted Part 1

So I tweaked some things and changed a bit around. I changed Shinsou’s character to Arata, just because it didn’t make sense for Shinsou to not be a hero. This is probably going to be 2-3 parts or so, I’m still trying to fill out the middle of the story because I already know the ending haha. Just have to fill in the blanks of the start and middle. I hope you all enjoy. (: 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Your head throbbed as you tried to concentrate on keeping your eyes open, forcing yourself to breath no matter how hard you wanted to just quit. You could feel blood pooling out underneath you and knew you were a goner if no one found you.

No one would find you, no one would suspect you to be here. You'd just decided to take an extra shift in the ER after your latest fight with Katsuki. What a pain that was turning into.

Your eyes traveled around the intake room, it was a mess now after the man had thrown you around it. You couldn't be angry, he hadn't meant to be violent and was passed out again in his bed.

The ER was busy, and this mans vitals were fine. No one was going to find you in time. You'd die here, never to see Katsuki again, never kiss him or tell him about...

Your thoughts were disrupted when the door to the intake room opened and in came an Angel you were sure of it. The Angel of death to take you away. At this point you'd have anyone if it meant the pain would go away.

The Angel dropped down to his knees next to you, pulling out all kinds of equipment and swearing under his breath. He looked a lot like Arata in his white coat. "What the hell happened?" He sure sounded a lot like Arata too. "Sweet cheeks stay with me." He muttered, a gentle hand touching your cheek. At least you'd have a gentle touch to help you through to the other side...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It all started in a bar, isn’t that how most love stories started now a days? It hadn’t been expected, it had just been a regular night after a long shift that required a strong drink. Bloody patients, drunk people needing IV’s to rehydrate and more tragedies than anyone could count all that and more in the long twelve hours you had worked. 

“Oh my God I thought that would never end. You know I had like three drunk guys feel me up while I was trying to put their IV’s in?” You complained to Arata as he sipped on his beer beside you. He wanted to stay sober just in case you got a bit too tipsy and he had to help you home. The two of you shared an apartment but you were just roommates. 

“You should have told me, I’d do something about it.” Arata murmured in your direction as you scoffed and looked over at him.  “Right, right. It doesn’t bother me that much, at least someone is touching it.” You murmured, taking a long sip from you straw. “Kidding, kidding. I’m just kidding. God they’re so gross.” You shivered, remembering the man that had grabbed you and whispered promises in your ear about how he’d take care of you once he got you home. You’d made sure to fish around in his arm a little, pretending you couldn’t find a vein. 

“Well you know how they are.” Arata shrugged as he finished his beer and leaned back in his chair, pushing the now empty bottle around the table. “They think once they’re drunk they are invincible and can’t get in trouble for anything.” The two of you chatted for a while and you were nice and tipsy by the time it happened. When your whole life changed. 

You’d been going to the bathroom when it happened when your hero came to your rescue like you were some damsel in distress. As much as you liked to think you could handle yourself in situations like this it was nice to be rescued sometimes. Now you didn’t really keep up with hero’s much, you only knew their names from the few times that they’d come into the ER to get patched up from big fights. Even then you didn’t fawn over them like some of your coworkers. After all they were a patient just like anyone else. They were still human. 

Either way you were headed back from the bathroom when you were trapped between a wall and a body. You looked up just to see one of the drunk men from the hospital in front of you, even drunker than before. “See I told you I’d find you again, let me take you home sugar.” His breath smelled rancid, like old beer and fried foods.  “How did you get out in the first place.” You wrinkled your nose and pushed back against the man in front of you, sighing a bit when he didn’t move. “Listen I didn’t agree to anything and I do not want you to take me home so please just let me pass.” You shook your head and attempted to squeeze out under his arm that up next to you on the wall but he was quicker. How he was in his drunken state you weren’t sure but you didn’t have the wits about yourself to question it too much. 

“Oh come on now, don’t be like that. I know you were giving me signals back at the hospital. Girl come on I can show you a real good time.” He murmured, dropping his head down to attempt to give your neck kisses.  “Really no I’m good.” You tried shoving again but you were met with resistance. “Please just let me get back to my friend...” You trailed off as suddenly the mans over salivated lips were pulled away from your neck.  “We got a problem here?” A gruff voice grumbled, holding the drunk man by he back of his shirt. He looked familiar but you couldn’t quite place it. He was handsome if you were going to be honest but it could be the alcohol talking.  “Mr. Dynamight sir... uh no. No there is no problem. I was just having a conversation with this girl here.” Ah so that was why he looked familiar. You hadn’t ever personally taken care of him but a few of the other nurses had been drooling over him before.  “Actually... I was just leaving. Would you mind... maybe walking me back to my table?” You asked of the hero as you looked up at him, knowing technically he was off duty but this was the only thing you could ask of him. You were a bit shaken up, that had gotten too close for comfort and now you were nervous he’d grab you when no one was looking. You just had to get back to Arata. Then you’d be safe. “Yeah, sure whatever.” The ash blond rolled his eyes as he let go of the drunk and you moved to his side. Thank you, you managed to whisper as the two of you walked back. “Thank you again. Really. I took care of him at the hospital and he decided that I wanted him or something.” You shook your head once the two of you got back to Arata who was eyeing the two of you suspiciously. “So, thanks again.” You nod, only getting a gruff ‘just doing my job’ from the man before he stomped off to his table where there were a few hero's that you did recognize. 

There were a few snickers and questions from Arata but you didn’t notice the glances from the hero’s table, not only from the hero that had saved you but also from his friends who were curious about the girl who’d caught their friends eye. Though he’d never admit it, he hadn’t even said anything to them. Arata and you decided to leave with one last glance towards Dynamights table not knowing that you’d seen him so soon again. 

It had only been a few days since the incident at the bar but it was a typical night in the ER. Drunks, car accidents and injuries from bar fights or cooking gone wrong all competing for your attention. You’d been stitching up knife cuts, checking temperatures on sick kids and giving fluids to those who needed it before transferring the more severe cases to be admitted. It had finally calmed down enough for you to finally take a drink out of your abandoned water bottle when someone told you stitches were needed in room 3. A small sigh came out of you before grabbing your supplies and making your way to the room. “Hello my name is Y/N I’ll be your nurse this evening. I heard you need stiches?” You asked, setting down your supplies.  “I don’t need any stiches. I told them that I’d be fine but they wouldn’t listen.” That voice sounded familiar and you looked up from setting things up to see the hero from the other night. Dynamight! The name finally came to you.  “Oh? How do you know that you don’t need them?” You asked with a smirk, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked over the hero.  “You’re that girl.” He stated, looking you up and down. “From the bar.” He hadn’t forgotten you but he had come to terms with the fact that he probably wouldn’t ever see you again. He was presently surprised that he was face to face with you again and now he knew your name. 

“Yes, girl from the bar that has a name. It’s Y/N.” You murmured, holding out your hand only to be met with a confused expression. “Where do you need stitches? Hand it over.” You murmured as he sighed and put his lower arm into your hand. “Mmm that does look a little nasty. Just a few stitches and you should be good to go. It won’t heal good on it’s own.” You should your head and started to get everything ready again. “This is going to be a pinch and a small burn but it’ll feel better than the stitches.” You promised as you injected his arm in a few spots. “Okay I’m gonna get started.”

The two of you made light conversation as you worked and Dynamight watched you. Little things, like the weather and how he’d gotten the injury. He was still in his hero gear so you figured he just came from work.  “Well that is that. You’re all fixed up.” You nodded, setting a bandage over it and taping it in place. “Don’t go messing up my hand work Dynamight.” You smiled at the man, taking care of your mess.  “It’s Bakugou.” He murmured, looking over at you. “Might as well be on a real name basis.” He said as he looked at you. “I mean... if you want to go on a date with me Saturday. Unless you and that guy are together.” He murmured, all confidence as he looked at you. He didn’t usually do things like this but it was something about you that he didn’t want to let get away again. He was just glad none of his friends had tagged along with him. He’d get so much shit from them for this. 

“Oh? If I want to.” You smiled as you looked over at him. “Well I guess that could be arranged.” You pulled out a pen and piece of paper out of your scrub pocket and scribbled down your address and phone number on the paper, as well as your full name. “We are not involved, just room mates.” You smiled and looked at him. “I’d love to go on a date. Pick me up at six.” You murmured, taking care of your things. “See you on Saturday Bakugou.” 

You didn’t know then what would happen, how much your life would change and the ways that it would. But if you had known then what you knew now, well you’d go thorugh it all over again. Even the hard parts.

Tag list

mae-foster

[mr007pennyworth]

Feeding Barry Headcanon

“Is this a bad time to bring up my blood sugars?”

If there was one thing Bruce had to make sure he calculated for when he built the Justice League was making sure his speedster didn't go hungry. 

Money, was never the issue, the real issue came about making sure Barry had someone TO MAKE SURE he was eating enough to cope. 

On an average day, just from watching Barry consume a full 18 inch pizza by himself and a guess from looking at the details of some of the foods he’d listed online, that he and Alfred would have there hands full.

Well, more Alfred. 

Cue, Alfred. 

When Bruce explained Barry’s apatite to Alfred at first, he didn't quite see the issue, Bruce downed 3,500 calories a day most of it just proteins so, another mouth to feed wasn’t all that hard, Dick had been on the same by the time he’d hit 16. 

But when Bruce ran the simulation of Barry’s metabolism on the computer, they both began to panic. 

How was a boy his age managing to feed himself the MINIMUM of DOUBLE Bruce’s calories a day on his budget?!

Alfred came to the conclusion that unless Barry ate roughly 7,000 calories a day at minimum, he’d start losing weight. 

Bruce was in the trash in ten minutes, digging up the MacDonald's takeaway containers he’d bought Barry just that afternoon. 

He’d given the kid his card and said go. Now he sat here with the boxes of 3 Bigs Mac’s, 6 double cheeseburgers, 3 packets of large fries, 20 chicken nuggets, a black coffee, a large irn bru and 5 apple pies. That was roughly 9,087 calories from what they could add up from the nutritional info. 

That was LUNCH. That was...Barry’s minimum daily needs and only $50 out Bruce’s pocket. 

$50, was pretty much Barry’s budget for THREE days of meals not just one. 

Bruce went to argue with Barry that he needed to move in, Alfred managed to stop him. 

Barry was all grown up and had been independent for too long to allow Bruce to walk into his life and smother him. 

But something had to be done. 

It took awhile but Barry did move in with some carefully plying by Alfred and the Butler managed to start tracking his food intake.

By making sure Barry got 6 meals a day for his 7,000 calories out of Bruce’s pocket, letting Barry add the rest became routine. 

Breakfast, Brunch, Lunch, Afternoon Tea, Diner and Supper, Alfred was finally back to using his cook books that had been gathering dust. 

Each meal had to have 1,160 calories and 30g or more of proteins to be any use to Barry’s development. Now, Alfred could have just given the boy a lump of cash and let him go bonkers on fast food, but the fat’s and sugars were the bigger hurdles, as much as it met his calories and his proteins in meat from burgers...it didn’t meet everything else. 

Barry’s malnutrition he found didn’t just come from the lack of food, it was the lack of the RIGHT foods. Even though Alfred balanced all six of Barry’s meals a day to cater for vitamins and such it wouldn’t be enough in places, that was where medication would have to come in, now he finds one afternoon after offering the boy some ibuprofen, that they didn’t work, his metabolism swallowed the effects in just a few minutes. Even tripling the dose, it was out of his system in just 12 minutes. That ment that to account for the speed at which his body used it’s building blocks everything had to be at least TWENTY times the rate of a normal human every day just for Barry to get a close enough dose of his nutrition. 

To put into perspective, an average male needs 500ug of Vitamin D a day, thats...30 minutes of sun. Barry, on the other hand needed over 10,000 a day just to function. Something that was easily helped with him being able to travel, a couples of hours in Australia and he’d get a solid top up, but running back ment using his powers, ment burning his body’s reserves, it was one hell of a game. Tablets, were Alfred’s go to. Ten dissolvable multi vitamin tablets in a 2 liter bottle of OJ a day and Barry was good to go, with his meals included, Alfred was glad to see Barry starting to look better after the first few months. 

Until, he wasn’t.

Going to work without breakfast, had Alfred concerned, but he had his packed brunch and lunch, he had his extra cash for snacks. To find that the lunch had only been half eaten when he came home was massive question mark.

Dinner Time...he said he wasn’t hungry and Alfred had him dragged towards the cave in just a moment. 

Just the ONE day of not eating his minimum calories and all the work that they had progressed on was fading. Barry still as much as he’d gotten off his chest about the anniversary of his mothers death, refused to eat. 

IV’s it came too then. 

Dragging the boy back upstairs, he handed him off to Bruce who situated him in his room while Alfred set about getting Barry on some IV drips.

Barry muttered on about the fuss but didn't fight Bruce keeping him in the bed as Alfred put IV catheters in both arms. 6 bags of 20% dextrose fluids wouldn’t do the job his meals should have but it would prevent him from going hypoglycemic for the rest of the day. In the mean time, Bruce set about finding his weak spot, his food weak spot. Now Barry liked a lot of food, he liked many different foods and Bruce was pretty willing to pay anything for him to eat something. 

He returned a few hours later with takeaway Chinese food , Indian Food , Italian food as well as three large pizzas, Mexican food meals, nearly every MacDonald's burger, Fried Chicken bucket meals, Kebabs, 48 Krispy Kreme Dounuts, nine different 12 inch sub sandwiches, Frozen meals from several different supermarkets and even a huge three tier chocolate cake. Bruce had been about to run back out of the door when he recalled a Brazilian takeaway just outside of town as well as another chicken shop when Barry came out of his room pulling the IV stand with him woken up at all the kerfuffle Alfred was making. 

“Master Bruce it’s midnight I doubt the boy is going to eat”

Barry, pulling out the IV’s then sat down at the table quietly as they argued, looking over everything Bruce had bought him slightly shy of the money he could imagine he’d spent. A smile broke out on his face at the sight of the brown bag. 

“He’s just started gaining weight, Alf if he doesn't-” “I’m fully aware, Bruce look, one day won't kill him, the IV’s will hold on off the worst of the hypo-”

*crunch* 

They turned to see the boy happily munching prawn crackers. 

Alfred pretty much dropped to the sofa in relief. Bruce just started laughing before pulling out a chair to sit opposite the speedster who was now eyeing up the cake as he packed prawn crackers into one of kebabs. 

Nobody said a word until Barry had consumed at least five of the items on the table and paused for a can of lemonade. 

“Barry?”

The pup looks up to Alfred on the sofa who was sat with a cup of tea, paper work spread out across his lap as Bruce sat beside him with a his laptop. It was just past one one in the morning. 

“Promise me something?”

Barry paused in reaching for the rice pot next to the Korma to indicate he was listening. “When this happens again, you’ll tell me when you’ll eat again before giving us a heart attack won’t you?”

The younger nodded and fought the laugh he almost made at Bruce getting whacked with the folder in Alfred’s hand at his old man response. 

Suddenly, Curry wasn't what he wanted. He’d had a kebab, a pizza, three burgers, a subs sandwich and a whole bucket of chicken...he needed something sweet, picking up one of the boxes of dounuts he pads over to the sofa dropping himself between Alfred and Bruce who shared an intrigued look, Barry picks a dounut before pushing the box into Alfred’s lap with a cheeky smirk. 

Alfred sighs, the boys puppy brown eyes were too hard to resist and picks one out putting it in his mouth before passing the box back over to Bruce, the vigilante grimaced and went to give them back but caught Barry’s look of confusion. 

“Okay, okay, just one, I guess it won’t ruin my diet” 

Grabbing the remote, Alfred passes it to Barry as he puts away the paperwork, Bruce does the same tucking away the laptop and watches as Barry flicks for a movie. 

“Coffee, Dounuts and bad horror movies at one in the morning...I guess it beats being out in the rain eh” Bruce laughs licking chocolate off his fingers as Barry snuggles into Alfred’s side. 

“It’s perfect” Barry smiles around a mouthful of dounut, pulling a face as Alfred goes to wipe the caramel dripping off his chin. 

Feeding Barry was always going to be a challenge, but for our vigilante and Butler Dad, it was worth it just to see him happy. 

[callmeelle22]

Blue Dream III

Pairing: Iris West x Barry Alen

Rating: E

Chapter Word Count: 4, 559

Summary: A series of sporadic dates between Iris and Barry turn into something more, a story in its own making.

Chapter I: Primetime

Chapter II: It's Cool

Chapter III: Anything; It would make sense, she supposes, if looking at her also feels like this for him, like her heart beats in time with every breath he takes and like time slows or stalls or...like every minute here is infinitely longer and in these moments… in these moments, she thinks that the world must somehow tilt on its axis because she feels...i feel you comin' down like honey, do do you even know i'm alive?, do do you even know i, i... she feels… (Read below or on the AO3 link on the chapter title.)

Chapter IV: Comfortable

Chapter V: The Way

Chapter VI: Can't Take My Eyes Off of You

Chapter VII: I'm in Love with You

Chapter VIII: Blue Dream

Anything

Maybe I should kill my inhibition

Maybe I'll be perfect in a new dimension

On the Saturday the week after Barry’s impromptu visit, Iris finds herself down on Main Street about half an hour after 10 in the morning. Nearly the entire 8 blocks of the street are sectioned off, with a plethora of white tents set up on both sides of the street. She glances on as she makes her way down the sidewalk, as people set up books and jewelry and clothes; beer and wine and harder liquor; food and sweets and other treats.

It’s the setup for Central City’s Fall Fest, one of a multitude of fests in the city that Iris calls home. It’ll be open to the public in a few hours and, like usual, Iris will make her way up and down the blocks a few times, holding a beer in one hand and something fried on a stick in the other, a couple of bags filled with things she doesn’t need in the crook of her elbow.

Now, though, she steps into the alley that leads to the side door of Golden’s, an Asian and American fusion restaurant and bar owned by the parents of her best friend, Linda Park. She gives a heavy-handed couple of knocks and only moments later, Linda opens the door to let her in.

Iris first met the other women when they were in the 7th grade. Iris’s parents had divorced several months prior to a new school year and for reasons not then known to Iris, her dad had gotten full custody of her and six-year-old Wally. They’d moved into a new house on the other side of town and that had meant a new school for her. Linda had sat beside her in their homeroom/advisory class and the girl with beige skin and long dark brown hair was constantly scribbling something in a notebook. Iris had discovered that they’d been stories, usually with families as the starring characters. By then, Iris had begun to write in her own notebook—musings and wonderings about the neighbors she’d just met, about what it meant to be the oldest child of divorced parents. They’d bonded over their writing; well, that and being two of only a handful of girls at the school with skin darker than the pale and spray-tanned skin of their classmates.

For over a decade, it’s been Iris and Linda. Through the messy stages of puberty and their even messier interactions with high school boys; through late-night study binges and even worse interactions with college boys. Through the drug addiction that took Iris’s mom and the car crash that had put Linda’s older brother on life support until he’d succumbed to his own injuries, they’ve navigated it all together.

Now, life gets in the way. Linda, almost immediately after undergrad graduation, had begun shopping around a number of short stories and personal essays she had written until, finally, a publisher had bit and opted to publish them as an anthology. A few years and too many nights spent locked in a room later and Linda’s book is a New York Times bestseller. Iris’s own success story is pending. In addition to completing her graduate degree (which, at 26, she’d started late, after taking some time off and working at a local newspaper), she runs a blog, one she’d started by accident. Her middle school musings had become pointed interviews and, with the classes she’d taken in college, had gotten the necessary skills to begin writing up her own human interest stories. It’s amazing, she’s learned, what people will tell you when they can hide behind the face of someone else. What a Life You’ve Lived is growing in popularity, making some money too, and it’s starting to become more than just a hobby for Iris.

Neither Iris nor Linda is ever truly free; but in a concentrated effort to make time, they brunch at least twice a month. This morning, it’s at Golden’s (where Linda is working as a bartender while she writes her next book) because her parents want them to try out new menu items. When the door shuts behind them, Linda turns and gives Iris a hug, wrapping her arms around her neck. Iris returns it, smiling into her hair, her familiar lavender scent a warm comfort she didn’t know she needed.

“I’ve missed your beautiful face,” Linda says, squeezing her hard once before letting her go.

“Yeah?” Iris asks, mouth lifting in a smirk. “Is it because you’re tired of looking at Daniel’s beautiful face?”

Linda rolls her eyes. “Never, though I’d rather put my eye out before I tell him that.”

Linda has been dating her boyfriend Daniel Ngyuen, nerdy engineer and man ridiculously head over heels for her, for a few months, after they met at a book signing hosted by Linda’s parents.

“You’re ridiculous,” Iris tells her, and Linda preens in response.

Something in Iris tightens, a faint film of green clouding her view for all of a millisecond. She’s ashamed she even had the thought, that she feels anything but happiness at the light in her friend’s chocolate brown eyes or the glow in her cheeks. She’s not jealous of Linda, of course she’s not. But Iris can’t help but find some envy at the feeling of contentment that so obviously surrounds her friend and the juxtaposition of her own drifting existence.

It’s almost tangible, these differences, at least to her. Iris can see the confidence practically emanating from Linda’s dress-clad form, the long-sleeved maxi dress and tall sandals, her wavy shoulder-length hair, making her look a little like a goddess. But Iris imagines that’s what it must look like, to be at the start of a career you’ve always wanted, to have the love of a man you’re secure in, to just...know your place, your purpose.

And maybe Iris is being dramatic. She supposes she looks as put together as she’s always thought she needed to be in her light denim jeans, pale pink cropped sweater, and tan block-heeled sandals. She’s been wearing her natural hair out this week and the wavy curls are piled up in an artfully messy bun. Still, even if Iris can’t touch on why she feels so scattered, like all of the pieces that make up the whole of her are floating aimlessly around her body, she cannot deny that the feeling is there, taking up space in her head like the songs she latches on to keep focused, maybe I should pray a little harder, or work a little smarter.

They walk through the restaurant, bustling with the waitstaff preparing for the 11 am opening. Golden’s isn’t an overly large place, only able to fit about 50 people at a time, but Iris thinks it’s a part of the charm. It’s decorated in dark brown wood and bright white and gold light fixtures; the tables and booths are spread out in a way that allows for privacy, making customers feel as if they’re in their own little worlds.

Linda leads them to their usual table, one actually tucked into a little alcove where only the Parks and their guests are allowed to sit. At the table, there’s already a carafe of juice too close to red-pink to be orange juice, along with a bottle of champagne. Outside of the wine and marijuana Friday nights and the occasional party or club, Iris only really indulges in alcohol when she and Linda have these brunches. They slide into the booth and Linda immediately reaches for the champagne.

Over the next couple of hours, Iris is reminded of why, regardless of her own issues, she loves his woman. They laugh, sharing stories of Iris’s students and the customers who come into Golden’s. They get on each other’s nerves, making jokes and ribbing the other any chance they get. At one point, Linda’s parents come out, her honey-skinned Chinese mother Xuan and her dad Theo, Chinese and white with skin like baked sugar cookies, and Iris blinks adoringly up at the both of them, always lost in their beauty—both tall and elegant with ridiculous cheekbones.

“It’s sickening,” Linda mutters as she watches Iris watch them walk away, “how you look at them.”

“I’ve had a crush on your parents for as long as I’ve known them,” Iris replies. “If they ever want a thre-”

“Don’t you finish that fucking statement,” Linda gripes and Iris howls in laughter until Linda points out the attractiveness of Iris’s own father. “You know I’d always hop on the chance to be your stepmom.”

“And I’d happily sabotage your wedding day.”

“But it’d be worth it when I got to climb on top of Daddy West during the honeymoon.”

Iris throws a strawberry at her.

She hears him before she sees him. She’s been at Fall Fest for only about twenty minutes after leaving Golden’s, full and tipsy, walking through the steadily filling streets. Of all of the festivals in Central City, of which there are several (seasonal fests like the Fall and Spring fests; food fests like the Food Truck and Italian Food fests; cultural fests like the Juneteenth and Hispanic Heritage fests), the Fall Fest is one of her favorites. It’s during the best time of the year, when the sun is still blazing but the wind cuts through the heat. When the leaves have begun to drift off trees and dance onto the ground, changing into the shades of yellow and orange and red that only nature can paint. When the booths run the gamut in what they sell, from cooked and packaged foodstuffs, to clothes and jewelry, to dance or golf lessons. It’s the one festival, besides the Pan-African Celebration, that their entire family would attend, even for a few years after the divorce. Her parents would take off work and put aside their differences to spend time together--until Wally had felt too old and her dad had needed too many more work hours and her mom had gotten too lost; and then Iris had started coming with Linda and then, this year, alone.

But she doesn’t dwell—she tries not to dwell these days—and besides, she’s just heard him.

He doesn’t sound any different in the light of the day. In her head, she keeps hearing him as he is in the throes of passion, when his voice is more of a throaty curse, when it’s a rumble against her heated flesh. Here, out here with children screaming from their blocked-off sections and ladies laughing as they smell through candle selections and men arguing from the faux sports bars set up at random tents, he should sound like anyone else. He shouldn’t even be heard over the music coming from the speakers they can’t see—down for the ride, down for the ride; you could take me anywhere; do do do down for the ride, down for the ride; you could take me anywhere; i hope you will, I hope you will, I hope you will—or the sheer noise that’s true for events like this. But he is.

She looks up, ignoring the woman still trying to convince her to buy a bottle or three of perfume, and she sees him, right at the booth beside hers. He’s with two other men, one shorter with light brown skin and dark brown eyes and black hair pulled back in a ponytail; the other only a bit taller than the friend, with skin darker than Iris’s, glasses, and a short afro. Iris vaguely thinks that the three of them together are some sort of setup for a bar joke. They’re dressed similarly, in pants and t-shirts, though Iris’s eyes catch onto Barry’s hunter green chinos and white shirt, the beige pocket square matching his desert boots. All three of them have relatively full beers in their hands and Iris is looking at the cup in Barry’s hand (or rather, his fingers wrapped around the cup) for about three seconds before it jerks, beer spilling out. She looks up to find he’s looking back at her too, muttering “Iris,” in surprise.

She watches her hand and smiles back at him, a bit awkwardly, stepping away from the booth where the woman has already moved on to a new customer.

“Hi Barry,” she responds, walking over to them. She spares a glance at the other two, the Black man looking at her curiously, the Latino man a bit more humorously. “Fancy seeing you here.”

It’s not her smoothest line, but Iris thinks she might be in shock. When he’d left her, again, before she woke up on Saturday morning, she’d found his number written in tiny handwriting on the notepad on her desk, the unimaginative “call me” scribbled beneath it. She hadn’t. She’d thought about; oh had she.

On Monday, she’d debated calling him up to grab a coffee during her break. On Wednesday, she’d gotten an email about a new story and she’d wondered, for a moment, what he might think about it. But then she’d thought of his sweet mouth telling her “I wanted to know if it was as good as my memory,” and she had decided that he likely wouldn’t care about her days.

Now, he gives her a thorough once-over, probably remembering, and Iris feels a flush of heat run through her that she knows has very little to do with the warm late September sun.

“Iris,” he says again, his voice a touch higher than normal. His companions look at each other, eyebrows raised.

“Iris,” the long-haired one repeats, laughter coloring his tone. “I’m Cisco.”

“And I’m Chester,” says the one with dark skin, and they both stand there looking at her, grinning like loons until Barry cuts in.

“Alright, stop being weird.”

They don’t. Barry rolls his eyes and pushes past them to stand in front of her. Even with the heels she’s wearing, she has to stretch her neck a little to look up at him.

“Hey,” he says, this time lower, a soft breeze on her skin.

“Hi,” she repeats, just as softly.

The sounds of the carnival don’t disappear so much as they become muted, such as if she were submerged in water or if there was a rushing in her ears, because everything becomes background noise save for the concentrated sound of his voice.

“You didn’t call,” he says to her.

“I—” she starts, but she’s got nothing to say, not anything that won’t make her sound needy or desperate.

“Hey Barry,” Cisco calls.

“Yeah?” Barry answers, but he doesn’t turn away from her. No, he’s looking at her still, assessing her almost. He’s trying to figure something out, she decides, or at least that’s how it seems, what with the way he stares so intently, blue-green eyes pouring into her, bringing up images of them staring up at her from between her thighs, bringing out impressions that feel like more than lust, like more than just two people who’ve only ever bared their bodies to each other.

“We’re gonna go to another tent,” Chester says. “Catch up with you later.”

“Alright,” is the reply, those eyes glittering like the sea in the afternoon sun, still fixed on her. There’s a slight frown to his mouth, and when he speaks again, she can’t tell if he’s reached his conclusion or not.

“Walk with me?”

She nods before she even thinks about it. “Sure.”

They start back down the path. The booths are in abundance this year; it’s a bigger festival than she’s seen before. For a while, they don’t talk. They walk side by side, arms brushing every so often, stopping at booths that catch their attention. For him is a booth with a variety of multi-piece puzzles, some featuring landscapes and gardens, others of the solar system or space. For her, it’s one selling notebooks, beautiful leather-bound journals. She stops, enthralled, picking up one in coral-colored leather with rose-gold edging.

“We can also engrave the name,” the sun-tanned woman with pale blonde hair behind the tent says. “Or you can order custom colors.”

Iris nods, murmurs, “these are really nice,” and continues flipping through the heavy cream paper in the coral notebook. These days, much of her writing gets done on her overused Macbook; it’s just easier that way. But when she writes, for herself—little anecdotes about her day, her feelings spelled out in poetry—she does so in notebooks like these.

“You’re a writer,” Barry wonders and it’s a statement as much as it’s a question.

“Yeah.” She looks up at him and nods. “I’m actually getting my master’s in journalism.”

She puts the journal down once she notes the $40 price tag and thanks the woman as they walk off, Iris looking back at the notebook with longing.

“I also run a blog,” she tells him, and the words tumbling out of her mouth are a shock.

“Really?” he looks at her in surprise. “What’s the site? Is it popular?”

It’s not like she’s embarrassed of her blog or anything, but it feels different, to tell people she knows about her work. Because it’s one thing for strangers to read what she types out in earnest, and in tears and in vulnerability, but it’s something altogether different for people she knows to do the same. They aren’t her stories, not actually, but they are always her words, always her emotions she puts into them, and it feels too, too telling somehow.

“It’s growing in popularity,” she tells him, because she’s the one who opened this can of worms. “It’s called What a Life You’ve Lived.”

He hums, like that means something to him, but before she can ask what, two kids come barreling through the aisle. Iris tries to step out of the way and she slips, her heel catching in a small crack in the asphalt. Her knees buckle, but before she can hit the ground, Barry’s arms are around her. One of his large hands holds onto her, pressed against the bare skin of her belly, and then she’s pressed fully against him.

It’s absurd how much she likes the feel of him—the slim but corded muscles in his arms, the apparent strength in his fingers; and she likes the smell of him too, the faint hint of his laundry detergent mixed with the heat of the sun mixed with the citrus of his cologne. It’s another moment (™), which doesn’t make sense because he’s only just caught her from falling. But he’s looking at her like there is more in her gaze besides the brown of her irises, the flutter of her lashes. It would make sense, she supposes, if looking at her also feels like this for him, like her heart beats in time with every breath he takes and like time slows or stalls or...like every minute here is infinitely longer and in these moments… in these moments, she thinks that the world must somehow tilt on its axis because she feels...i feel you comin' down like honey, do do you even know i'm alive?, do do you even know i, i...she feels…

“Are you alright?”

Barry’s voice is quiet, too quiet for the energy they’re surrounded by. And maybe she doesn’t even hear it as she does read the movement of his pink mouth.

“Yeah, I am.”

He straightens, then, and gives her a half-smile. “You know, Iris, if you wanted to fall all over me, you could have just called.”

He likely had been trying for levity, but it’s pointed, right there at the end. She steps away from him and he lets her, his fingers sliding along the small of her back until they’re no longer on her skin. It leaves her cold

(only that can’t be true, because it’s far too warm out)

and she watches as he stuffs his hands into his pockets.

“I was waiting on your call, Iris.”

They've moved into a corner where the direction of the festival booths turn right. Straight ahead of them is a 21+ section; it features a stage where performances will begin around 5 as well as a number of makeshift bar stations. There’s a similar set-up with kid-friendly activities on the other side of the festival. Barry’s friends are standing at one of the bar stations talking to two women, both with chestnut-brown skin and long kinky hair. Iris’s eyes shift to take in the rest of her surroundings, to the sound of people laughing and the couples holding hands and the families who seem elated to be together on a day like today.

When she turns back, Barry is patiently watching her, head tilted to the side, expression thoughtful, like it always tends to be.

“Have dinner with me tonight,” Barry suggests “We can walk around some more. And once we get sun-tired, I can take you to this spot that I like nearby and we can talk. Maybe about why you didn’t call.”

She licks her lips, pulls the bottom one between her teeth. She hedges, long enough to tell herself that this would be a foolish endeavor, that she should just say no, that he’s nice and cute and what harm would it do. But, really, when he asks, those cyan eyes gleaming and his cheeks faintly pink and his face so goddamn hopeful it almost makes her look away, she really has no other choice.

“Okay, sure.”

She doesn’t tell him why she doesn’t call.

What she does is tell him about her dad and how she’s always been in awe of him, of his grace and his strength and the lessons he’d taught her. She tells him about Wally, who’s brilliant and searching, trying to figure out his way (not unlike her, though this she doesn’t say). She tells him about Linda, her sister in all of the ways that count, who’s always with her, even when she isn’t. And when he asks, because of course he does, she tells him about her mother who was beautiful and kind, all the way until sickness took her away.

She tells him this because he tells her first, about a larger-than-life father whose proximity to wrong-doing bureaucrats had landed him in prison, and an easy-going mother whose life had ended because someone else had been desperate for the money in her purse.

They do indeed walk around ‘til they’re tired, until around 6. Then Barry takes her to a little American bistro where they pride themselves on grass-fed meats and homegrown vegetables. They devour burgers the size of their heads and a mountain of fries that deserve their own table. He stuffs her with food and a piece of pie after, and he asks her some questions. He wants to know her favorite color and the television show she’s currently watching and if she’s always wanted to be a writer: yellow and Bridgerton and only since her parents’ divorce, when she’d needed to know that hers was only a unique story—or maybe she had needed confirmation that it wasn’t. She wonders about his dream job, his favorite hobby, the one thing he wishes he could do: forensic scientist, which he is, amateur theater, and getting his dad out of prison. That opens up a space for more convolution than should be allowed on a first date, and so she asks him more about amateur theater.

After, he walks her back to where her car is parked past Golden’s. When they get there, he listens for the sound of her car alarm, and then he turns her around, pressing her back against her car door. He walks closer, a hand at her waist, the other reaching up to cup the back of her neck, thumb circling lightly around her throat.

“Thank you for dinner,” she whispers. “I had a really nice time.”

“Yeah?” His mouth ticks up, that half-smile that is somehow both charming and a little bit maddening. “Enough that I might get a kiss?”

She tilts her head as if in thought, even as she gives in to her desire to touch him too, reaching up to finger at the faint moles dotting her cheeks. She only barely nods her acquiescence when he closes whatever distance is left and kisses her. Iris is always surprised by how warm his mouth is, by how sweet he tastes. He tastes like the apple pie they had earlier, but also like early sunset coffee on cool fall mornings and like how slow sex in the middle of the night feels.

He’s gentle in some ways, his mouth moving slow against hers, his tongue licking into her mouth like he’s trying to find life inside of her. But he’s a little rough too, squeezing at her waist so he won’t fondle her in the middle of the street, tightening his hold on her throat, only a little, but enough that Iris begins to feel the action in the throb of her sex. They kiss, eyes closed, her own fingers scratching at the nape of his neck, her hips thrusting against his in time to the flick of his tongue across her bottom lip, until she feels the swell of his dick against her belly and her loud moan tears him away from her.

“Fuck Iris,” he all but growls, licking his lips as he looks her over, a little wrecked. She hadn’t even realized she was doing it, playing with the soft strands of his hair, until she notices it’s all messy, matching the state of his swollen mouth, his wrinkled skirt, the heavy dent in the center of his pants. She wonders what she looks like.

“Get in the car, baby.”

Wide-eyed at the endearment outside of sex, Iris does as he tells her to, sliding in and buckling up before he closes the door. When the purr of her engine starts, he motions for her to roll her window down. She does, waiting as he plants his elbow on top of the car, bending his lean frame down so that his face is level with her.

He smiles softly at her. “Go out with me next Sunday.”

She bites at her lip, if only to give herself another moment to breathe. Because this date would be moving beyond a two-night stand, beyond an impromptu date, far beyond kissing on the side of the street.

“What time on Sunday?”

“Early afternoon,” he says and leans in even closer. “I’ll pick you up.”

She nods before she can talk herself out of it, even if she knows that she should. Barry motions for her with a crook of one of his long fingers, and it makes her think of what’s been playing in her head, of down for the ride, down for the ride; you can take me anywhere, and when she comes to, he places a sweet kiss on her mouth.

“I’ll see you next week,” he says, pulling away slowly.

And then Iris watches him—his strong and assured walk, his compelling and commanding aura—until she can’t see him anymore.

Do do do down for the ride, down for the ride

You could take me anywhere

I hope you will, I hope you will, I hope you will

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Flatbush & Atlantic: part x

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

And we’ve finally come to the end of Cass and Mat’s story! I want to thank every person who’s read this over the past few months, especially those of you who have reblogged, commented, and shared this with your friends. Your feedback means the world to me, and please tell me what you think of this final part! I’ve also got some ideas floating around for an epilogue, so don’t be surprised if that pops up in the next few weeks.

part x

May 21 (fri)

For once, it wasn’t Cass’ alarm that woke her up. Her internal clock didn’t let her sleep in past 6, but as she lay in her bed, comforter pulled up to her chin and curls up in a haphazard messy bun, a realization struck her. She didn’t have anything to do, and that was just about as far from normal for her as possible. Normally, she’d be hopping in the shower at this time, getting out and shoveling some cereal down her throat before running to catch the train, or desperately trying to finish some last-minute reading before an early lecture. Her grandparents’ flight didn’t land at JFK until 1, and she wouldn’t need to leave until an hour before that to get Mat and drive to the airport. 

Padding out to the kitchen, she just caught Ryanne, who was about to leave for a clinical rotation. “What department are you in this month?” Cass asked.

“OB/GYN,” Ryanne responded. “I got to observe a birth the other day, and it was one of my favorite things I’ve gotten to do so far. Obviously I don’t know for sure yet, but I think I might want to match into it. You get to do a little bit of everything — there’s some surgery, some routine care, some deliveries. And with the Black maternal health crisis, I figure we need all the Black OBs we can get as a country.” 

Cass smiled. “That’s wonderful, I’m glad to hear.” She knew that Ryanne had been a little stressed out with the prospect of trying to pick a residency; she hadn’t felt drawn to any of the other rotations she’d gone through quite like this one. 

“What about you? What’s your schedule like today?” Ryanne asked as she poured coffee into her travel mug. 

Cass flopped down on the couch, looking over at her. “It’s just...I have nothing to do. Nothing needs to get done. No cases to read, no essays to finish, no paperwork to file or anything. Chris gave me this week off for finals anyways, so I couldn’t even go into the office if I wanted to because there’s just nothing for me to do. Do you know how rare that is for me?”

Ryanne laughed. “Cass, I’m in med school. The last time I had a true ‘off day’ was two weeks ago, and even then I spent most of it studying.” She slung her backpack over one shoulder. “See you tonight, have a good day, babe!”

After some toast and a smoothie, Cass was back on the couch, trying desperately to think of something to do. She thrived on being busy, thrived on feeling like she was needed and contributing to something worthwhile. Pushing herself up, she walked back to her room, deciding to change and go out for a run. Cass liked to keep in shape and exercise as often as she could, even though it had been a few years since she had been on an organized sports team. She was usually able to make yoga classes at the school gym twice a week, but typically didn’t have the spare time in the mornings for a run. And by the time she got back it was almost always dark, way too late to even think about going out alone. 

Lacing up her tennis shoes and grabbing her AirPods and keys, she set out, down the stairs and past the door. As she jogged down the streets, making familiar turn after familiar turn, Cass realized something remarkably profound. Every place she passed had played a part in the last three years. St. Lucy’s, where she had stumbled in with inconsolable tears after her abuelo’s stroke, lighting a candle and praying with some old Italian woman for his recovery. The bodega on the corner run by Carlos Gonzalez, one of the first people she met when she moved to the city and the only one who knew how to smoosh her sandwiches down how she likes. The Edible Arrangements where she, Stella, and Ryanne had bought Alicia a congratulatory fruit bouquet for finally asking out her coworker Juliette. They had been dating for six months. The high school she passed every morning on her way to the subway station. These were the people and places that had made her life what it was, and she owed them her thanks. 

An hour and five miles later, Cass decided to call it quits, walking the last few blocks back to the apartment as a sort of cool-down. She jumped in the shower, throwing her hair up in a towel once she got out and resigning herself to watching whatever was on TV. Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives it was, apparently. Four episodes and one snack break later, it was time to get in the car to head over and pick up Mat. Cass drove down Manhattan Island, tapping her fingers in boredom as she hit yet more traffic. It was noon, why was there even traffic in the first place? She pulled into the visitor’s spot in the underground lot of Mat’s apartment complex, taking out her phone. Just got here! Mat popped out of the elevator a few minutes later, holding a bouquet of tulips. “Sorry I’m late, I was going back and forth between tulips and sunflowers for awhile, but I figured the pink was maybe a better choice? What do you think?” Cass started to laugh, and Mat looked offended. “What?”

“Babe, it’s so sweet that you want to impress my grandma, but have you thought about how the poor flowers will fare?”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Cass adjusted her seatbelt, leaning over. “We’re going to be out for awhile. We’re not going straight back to their hotel. So…” she prompted.

“They’ll wilt.” Mat finished, his face falling. 

She covered his hand with her own. “Don’t worry. It’s a sweet gesture and I’m sure she’ll appreciate them. We’re all going out for dinner after the ceremony tomorrow, why don’t you bring them then?” 

He perked up. “I’ll run up and put them back in a vase, be back in a few!” Mat gave Cass a quick peck on her cheek, leaving her with just one question. Mat owned vases? He slid back into the passenger’s seat shortly after, clicking his seatbelt in and connecting his phone to the speakers. 

Cass rolled her eyes. “I don’t know a single guy your age who’s not obsessed with John Mayer. It’s kind of weird, honestly.”

“You don’t like him?” Mat asked curiously. Cass was usually into more guitar-based, acoustic stuff, so he figured she’d be into at least some of his stuff. 

“Some of it,” Cass responded, pulling out of the lot and onto the street. “Go ahead and play it, I don’t mind at all. Not what I’d usually put on if I’m alone, that’s all.”

Mat nodded, looking absentmindedly out the window. “So, what should I know about your grandparents?”

Cass’ face immediately burst into a smile at their mention. It was always so clear how much she loved her family, and that was one of Mat’s favorite things about her. How hard she loved. “Alright, so it’s Dolores and Roberto Cabrera. They’re wonderful people, I genuinely think you’re going to like them a lot. They’re both super fluent in English, so don’t worry about communication. They originally immigrated to Texas when they were in their teens, abuela was a housekeeper at a few hotels in San Antonio and abuelo worked in the fields for awhile before getting a job at a little hardware store in town, where he worked until they retired. My mom’s the middle of four, two older sisters and a younger brother.”Mat listened intently. “My abuelo’s a little more rough around the edges, so don’t be surprised if he gives you  a little bit of a hard time, but it’s not out of malice or anything. He’s always been very protective over us, my mom and her siblings, and now us three. He might do the whole ‘nobody’s good enough for my Cassidy” thing, but he’ll get over it. He means well.” 

She glanced over at Mat, who was looking decidedly nervous. “Seriously, chou, it’s going to be fine. Abuela’s totally different, they’re like polar opposites. I can almost guarantee that she’ll say something to the effect of ‘if my granddaughter loves you, I love you.’ Very much go with the flow, she’ll probably want to come over to your apartment and cook for you.” Her expression softened. “As long as you’re kind and respectful, they won’t have an issue with you, Mat. They’ll see that you treat me how I deserve to be treated and love me like I deserve to be loved.”

Cass pulled into the garage by the international arrivals terminal, cutting the gas and checking the time. “The flight was supposed to land at one, so they should be getting out of passport control by the time we get inside.” It was a little after one thirty, but if there was anything Cass knew, it was just how long customs could take at an airport as big as JFK. Even in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, and even though her grandparents were travelling on their American passports and could use the citizen’s line, she had heard that it could take upwards of an hour or two to get through. 

The concourse was pretty bare apart from a few kiosks selling “I ❤️ NY” shirts and a surprisingly busy Noah’s Bagels, so Mat and Cass made themselves comfortable on one of the rows of plastic chairs lining the room. The arrivals screen had marked their flight from Mexico City as having landed nearly an hour prior, so it was little surprise when Cass popped up from the chair, straightening her shirt and walking over to a couple that he could only assume were her grandparents. Mat quickly followed, catching up to her just as she threw her arms around her grandma. “Abuela, te extrañé,” she said, the sound muffled by Dolores’ scarf. She pulled back, kissing her grandpa on the cheek before stepping over to Mat, one hand placed reassuringly on his back. “Abuela, abuelo, this is Mat, my boyfriend.”

Mat stuck his hand out, shaking theirs. “Mr. and Mrs. Cabrera, it’s so amazing to finally meet you. Cass speaks so highly of you, and she always talks about her summers in Hermosillo.” 

Dolores pulled Mat in, embracing him from the start just as Cass had expected. “Mat, it’s wonderful to finally meet you. Cassidy has told us so much about you, it’s clear she loves you a great deal.”

Mat ducked his head and blushed. “I’m not sure if she can love me more than I love her, but I’m happy to be in such good company.” 

He took both of their suitcases as Cass gestured to the sliding doors. “I want to get back to the car before they charge me for another half hour,” she said. 

Mat slid the bags in the trunk of the car as Dolores got in the passenger’s seat. With a gulp, Mat realized that meant he had to sit next to Roberto. He had been perfectly nice on the walk over, but as Cass had warned him, it was clear that he was a little guarded. Whether that was just his personality or whether Mat had yet to earn his trust hadn’t been determined. 

Her grandparents had been to New York once or twice before, but it had almost always been just to fly in before driving up to visit Cass’ family in Connecticut; they had never really been able to see the city. Cass  felt strongly that that had to change, so she had arranged for a mini-tour of Manhattan before they got dropped off at their hotel for the night. “So, Mat,” Dolores said, turning around in her chair, “Cassidy tells us you’re a hockey player? That must be so exciting, how long have you been playing?”

Mat nodded. “Yes ma’am. I play for the Islanders, so we’re right here in Brooklyn, but I live over in Manhattan. I’ve been playing the sport since I was four or so? Really little. But I just finished my fourth season on the Islanders. And it is exciting, I love being with my team and being on the ice, it’s one of the best feelings in the world.” 

“That must keep you busy, though?” Roberto asked gruffly. 

Mat froze. He couldn’t lie and say that he was home all the time, able to be there for Cass as often as he’d like to, because he wasn’t. But if he let on just how often he was gone, would that make him even more wary? “Oftentimes, yes,” Mat began slowly. “The team’s usually on two or so road trips a month, they’re usually about a week long. But they’re balanced out with plenty of home games, and there’s lots of guys who balance the job with a family and other responsibilities. I’m always excited to be able to be back in New York, I love it here. And to be with Cass.” Roberto nodded, not seemingly totally satisfied but content enough to not push the issue further. 

“He’s really good about spending time with me, abuelo, even though we’ve both got busy schedules,” Cass added, catching Roberto’s eye in the rearview mirror. “We meet in the morning before a class to get coffee, or lunch in between studying if I’ve got time. I go to every game I’m able to when he’s playing here in the city, or over in Jersey. We spend plenty of time together, he doesn’t blow me off. You don’t have to worry.” He seemed much more at ease with his granddaughter’s response. 

It was a whirlwind three hours around New York, Cass playing chauffeur as they went to the top of the Empire State Building — her pick — in St. Patrick’s Cathedral  — her grandpa’s pick — and around Central Park, stopping at one of the many pretzel carts for a snack. They dropped them off at the hotel, Cass’ eyes getting misty as her grandma pulled out the serape stole from her purse. Her fingers danced over the colors, the stripes of red and blue and pink and green, and knowing that it was made by the hands of someone so important to her made it all the more beautiful. The rest of her family was driving in later that night, after Nick got out of school, so everyone wouldn’t be together until the graduation ceremony the next day. 

The couple decided to get takeout on the way back to Mat’s apartment, Mat jumping out of the car to run in and pick up the order while Cass circled the block until he was out. As they sat on the couch, cuddled into each other as they broke into the boxes of Chinese food, Cass thought absentmindedly that Mat handled his chopsticks way better than she ever would have given him credit for. Her grandparents had been on her mind. More specifically, her grandparents and Mat had been on her mind. It wasn’t that she thought he had messed up in any way — she was positive he’d absolutely won over her grandma and her grandpa was slowly but surely coming around — but some lingering concerns about what they might think about their relationship. “I’m not sure that they’d actually care, but when you talk to them tomorrow maybe don’t mention how often I sleep over here? They’re wonderful people, but they’re a little old school about this stuff.” 

“This stuff?” Mat asked curiously. 

“Living together, sex before marriage, that kind of stuff.” 

“And how do you feel about it?” 

Cass raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you think you could ever get me to do something I didn’t want to do? I’m way too stubborn for that.” Mat threw his head back, laughing. “But seriously. I don’t make the decision lightly, because commitment and intimacy in that way is something really big and important to me. You already knew that I don’t do hookups, it’s just not my thing. But I can see this, us, going places. I want us to go places. And I’ve never been very good at listening to people when I don’t want to. So I’ve made my peace that my choices might not be ones everyone would be thrilled with, but it doesn’t really matter to me as long as I have you.” 

Mat nodded, putting down his food to card one hand through her curls. “I get that, I do. Obviously that’s not so much the attitude with a lot of the boys, but your principles are part of what makes you who you are, and I love who you are. Every part of you.” Cass smiled against his neck, leaning down and kissing him on the shoulder. “I want us to go places too, I hope you know that.”

“Glad to hear.”

They ate without speaking for a few more minutes until Mat broke the silence. “Where do you see yourself in five years?” 

“With you,” Cass answered honestly. “Here, or we could get a nice brownstone over in Brooklyn.” 

“Somewhere with a yard,” Mat mused. 

“Yeah, a yard would be nice,” Cass agreed. “I’d like to get a dog, I’ve always grown up with dogs and it would be nice to have someone to keep me company when you’re gone.” Her family’s two dogs, Patches and Scout, were back at the house in Connecticut, and on more than one occasion, Cass had made the two-hour drive up just to see them. She paused, glancing down at her hands. “In five years? You’d better have put a ring on my finger by then, Mat. I’ll be almost thirty. Approaching old maid status” 

Mat laughed, an easy, breathy sort of laugh that somehow erased all of the tension in the room. “I think you should double-hyphen.” 

Cass looked at him doubtfully. “Cabrera-Shaw-Barzal? Yeah, I’m going to have to pass on that one.” 

He shrugged, the corner of his lip pulled up in a half-smile. “Just saying. It’s got a ring to it.”

“Have you given much thought to what you’d want to do with your name when you get married?” Mat asked curiously. It really didn’t matter much to him, since it would ultimately be Cass’ decision, but he didn’t want to assume anything regardless. And it didn’t escape Cass that he said when, as if it was certain, as if it was a given. The surety made her heart flutter. 

Cass shook her head. “Not particularly. On one hand, I do like the idea of the whole family having the same name. It seems nice. Unified. But I don’t want to feel like I’m erasing my culture and who I am just because I’m getting married. And all due respect, chou,” Cass poked Mat’s cheek, “but Cabrera Shaw’s the name on my degrees. Cassidy Barzal didn’t go to law school.”

“Very fair,” Mat said with a chuckle. 

Cass took a deep breath. If it seemed like they were having the “future talk,” she figured it was best to go all in. “Do you want kids?” she asked, tentatively, hesitantly. It was obvious that Mat was good with kids, she’d seen as much, but being good with kids and wanting children of your own were two very different things. Cass had wanted to be a mom since she knew what a mom was, and even though they probably should have brought up the topic earlier, she wasn’t sure what she’d do if he said no. Thank God, she never had to find out. 

“Definitely,” Mat said, nodding. “Not now, obviously, we’re young and haven’t really settled down yet. If you got pregnant we’d make it work, but I don’t think either of us is looking to be parents right away. But in a couple years, once we’re married and have a proper house with space...Yeah, I’d like to have kids.” He looked over at Cass. “What about you?”

“Always wanted kids,” Cass responded fondly. “I loved growing up with siblings, and I know my parents were the same way. Two or three, I think. I’ve thought about adoption too, but obviously that’s way in the future.”

Mat kissed the top of her head. “We’ve got time.”

 May 22 (sat)

 The graduation ceremony itself wasn’t until noon, so Cass had more than enough time to get ready after waking up at 7. Alicia barrelled into her room at exactly 7:22, throwing a shirt at her and telling her to get dressed. Cass stumbled out of the room ten minutes later, pulling on socks and grabbing her phone from the charger by her door. “What are you guys trying to pull?” she asked, yawning and trying to wipe the sleep out of her eyes. 

“Uh, we’re going to the diner, duh,” Stella said with a smile, tossing Cass her purse. “Come on! You know it fills up early on weekends.” Glen’s Diner had become an apartment staple over the past few years, the restaurant having been the first place the four of them had eaten in the city when they moved, not having bought groceries yet and not wanting to pay the premium for delivery. It was cheap, open 24/7, and Cass would swear up and down that their blueberry pancakes were the best she’d ever had. 

They were seated just after 8, happily slurping coffee and stealing bites of each other’s breakfast twenty minutes later. It was a nice day and hadn’t gotten too hot yet, so they decided to walk back after finishing the meal. In reality, “going back” meant Alicia stopping to buy a new necklace, listening to a busker for a few minutes, and petting no fewer than five dogs on the one-mile walk. There was still plenty of time before they had to leave for the ceremony, but after Cass did her makeup and tamed her curls, there was just enough time to watch an episode of Parks & Rec before having to actually get her stuff together. Not as flexible as she once had been, Ryanne helped zip up the back of her dress, a white lace bodycon from her sorority days that she had definitely worn to at least two semiformals. Hey, Cass thought as she straightened her hemline, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. 

She had ironed her robe and put it into a dress bag the night before, and gently folded her school stole and the serape from her abuela into her purse. Mat’s necklace hadn’t left its place since Valentine’s. Her dad’s parents had given her a beautiful pair of pearl studs for her undergraduate graduation, and it felt only right to wear them for her next step. She fastened the ankle straps on her heels, and popped her head out to the living room. “Everyone ready?” She was met with a chorus of “yeses,” and grabbed her keys from their dish by the front door. 

“Let’s go get our girl graduated!” Alicia hollered into the street. 

The girls had originally objected to Cass driving herself to her own graduation, but relented as soon as Cass reminded them that she was the only one who knew where to find the free parking, and the rest of them only drove sedans. “Cheryl has way more room. Y’all want to be cramped on purpose?” 

“Fair point,” Stella had said begrudgingly. 

Exactly twenty-six minutes later, Cass pulled into a spot about two blocks away from the arena where she would be graduating in an hour’s time, hugging each of her friends as Ryanne handed her the dress bag. “You’re going to kill it in there,” she said, rubbing her back. 

Cass laughed. “Ry, all I’ve got to do is walk across a stage without tripping.”

She shrugged. “It’s a fine art that few have mastered.” 

Cass entered through the side, flashing her ID to the security guard standing by the door. Half an hour later, everyone had been ushered into their seats, carefully arranged in alphabetical order. For the most part, Cass was friendly with everyone in her class; if they weren’t outwardly hostile to her, she saw no reason why they deserved anything other than kindness, but was relieved to see Robin sitting next to her. “You excited?” Robin asked, brushing a piece of her auburn hair behind her ear. The lobby doors must have opened, because as she asked, crowds started to mill into the seats, waving at anyone who would catch their eye. 

Cass bounced her head. “I am, but it’s kind of surreal, you know? I knew we’d get to this point, obviously. It’s what we’ve been working towards for seven years, really. But the idea that it all essentially comes down to this…”

“An hour, a few handshakes, and a piece of paper,” Robin helpfully supplied. 

She nodded. “Yeah. It’s almost anticlimactic in a way? Like sure, we’ve got our JDs after this, but knowing we’ve still got to pass the bar. We’re not over the finish line yet.”

“Columbia has a 97% pass rate, and you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, Cass. And I’ve spent three years surrounded by the smartest people I’ve ever met.”

“Fair,” Cass said, “it’s just kind of a weird feeling, you know?” Robin nodded. “And plus, for most of us, we’ve pretty much spent our whole lives in school. Aside from positions as summer associates, or part-time jobs and internships, we don’t really know how to do anything other than school. It’s just a little bit of a daunting thought to suddenly feel like we’re being thrown out to the wolves without really knowing what to expect.” Cass’ phone, which she wasn’t technically supposed to have but had snuck in anyways, chose that moment to buzz with a text notification. It was from Mat.

Met up with the crew! Can’t wait to see you walk across that stage, Cass. I love you and we’re all so proud of you. Mat had attached a photo of everyone she had brought with her — both sets of grandparents, her parents and siblings, and roommates. 

“Your boyfriend is nauseatingly cute,” Robin observed, looking over her shoulder at the message. 

Cass laughed. “That’s true, but I knew what I was getting myself into.” The music started ten minutes later, and the ceremony began. If Cass was being honest, she didn’t really remember much of anything from the first half of the ceremony, before the conferral of diplomas. She was so excited and nervous and unbelievably ready all at the same time that all she recalled from the dean’s speech and the student speeches were vague comments about their “awesome responsibility” and “duty to pursue truth and justice” and “commitment to fight for what is right over what is easy.” 

As soon as she realized it, her row was being ushered into line to receive their diplomas. “Cassidy María Cabrera Shaw.” She heard her name, but really had no clue who had spoken it. The dean? One of her professors? As Cass walked up the steps and across the stage, the only thing she could think was don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip. Then she was handed a diploma, flashed a brilliant smile for the photographer, and shook hand after hand after hand before walking off the other side of the stage. She was pretty sure she could hear Mat and Noah yelling their congratulations from her seat on the floor. 

Having a name towards the front of the alphabet meant that Cass was almost always called on quickly in class, or on roll call, or at graduation, as the case was. But that meant that she had to sit, quietly and politely, for the other four hundred names to be called. And it took awhile. After Robin Cahill came Wesley Coleman, then Samuel Cogswell, then Fiona Chan. Cass didn’t mind having to sit through the whole thing, especially when Fiona, Les, Samaira, and her other friends crossed the stage — she cheered as much as anybody — but it was a long time to be sitting in a folding chair and the thousands of people packed into a small space didn’t help her temperature regulation. 

There was the benediction and congratulations, and then the recessional of the graduates. Graduates, Cass thought. She was a graduate. She had finished, she was done, she had accomplished the one thing she wanted most to do since she was a little girl watching Legally Blonde for the first time, looking at Elle Woods and thinking I can do that. And she had. Her feet carried her to the back room of their own accord, where she picked up her bag and was engulfed in a flurry of hugs, congratulations, and kisses on the cheek from her friends, the people who she had spent countless late nights in the library with, bar hopping to celebrate the end of finals, and afternoons on each other’s apartment couches, yelling fact patterns at each other and trying to come up with an analysis before the timer went off.  

Following the stream of sky blue graduation gowns, Cass walked outside, waving at her family when she spotted Eliana hanging off of a lamppost in the courtyard to get a better view. Her sister nearly tackled her as she made her way to the group. “Cass. I already knew you were brilliant, and I still think  you’re the smartest out of any of us,” she gestured between the two of them and Noah, “but now you’ve got the degree to prove it. I’m so proud of you.” 

Noah was next. “You worked hard, and I know how badly you wanted this. You’re a really good sister.” He wasn’t usually a big talker, and Cass’ eyes definitely got a little misty as he spoke. He had verbally committed to Minnesota State the week before, and Mat might have been more excited than even Cass when he heard the news. It was an incredible program that had a serious track record of sending players to the NHL, and she was so proud to see her little brother doing what he loved. Her mom and both grandmas were crying, as expected, and Grandpa Joe wrapped her up in a hug as soon as he got the chance. 

Mat had been hanging towards the back of the crowd, not wanting to feel like he was intruding on family time, until her dad nudged him forward. “Go say hi to your girl, Mat,” Patrick said.

“Will do,” Mat said, squeezing Cass’ hand and pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Sometimes it blows my mind how incredible you are,” he said. “Everyone’s already said how smart you are, and every bit of that is true. But you’re so much more than that, you know?” His thumb rubbed over her hand. “You’re beautiful, and curious, and you always keep me on my toes. You’re so passionate about your work, and you’ve got the biggest heart out of anyone I know. You’ve never met a person you didn’t want to help. And I promise I’m not biased just because I’m in love with you.” 

Cass gave a watery laugh, blinking and thanking God she had the foresight to wear waterproof mascara. “God, I love you, Mat.”

Her dad had always been the picture type, insisting on documenting every waking moment. He was the living embodiment of “pics or it didn’t happen,” for better or worse. He took a few of her with her law school friends, then Alicia snapped one with just her immediate family, then there was one with everyone. Cass also got a picture with Mat, where he was bending down to kiss her, the tassel on her mortarboard just barely brushing his nose. Then she was in one with all of the seniors on the law review, and a friend pulled her away for a few with the Latinx Student Association. By the time they finally managed to tear Patrick away from his camera, it was time to head back to the hotel and get ready for dinner. 

Mat got Patrick to send him the photo of him and Cass, and was about to post it on Instagram when he hesitated. “Hey, is it cool if I post this?” Mat said, showing Cass his phone. Most people knew who she was, and he had posted pictures of her before, but they had never been this obvious, this clear, this real. 

“Go for it.”

Mat pressed post. So, so proud of my incredible girlfriend @casscshaw for graduating law school. You’re one of the smartest, most empathetic people I know, and you’re going to make an amazing lawyer. 

Cass grinned, a big, genuine smile as she was surrounded by her family, the people who meant the most to her — whether they were related or not. She looked up at Mat, who was smiling softly down at her as he reached one hand up to fix her tassel. “What’s next?”

[capricornus-rex]

Hey Hon! I have another request if that’s quite alright with you? What about Cal being needy and mushy for your attention? Like he’s clingier than usual? I haven’t seen any clingy!Cal (maybe bc it isn’t in his character?) on my dash so I thought I’d give it a shot! Let me know if this is okay :) Thanks, hon! 🥺💘

Hi Hon! Oooh, I like this one you got 😉 I personally think Cal is a closeted clingy Jedi bf, but when push comes to shove, I think he’s not afraid to be very cuddly and mushy. I think he’s great at hugging and cuddling!! 🥺🥰 I hope you’ll like the fic! You’re welcome, sweetie! 🥰💞

“His Spark of Light”

Cal Kestis x Reader

Read Part 2 next | Masterlist

1 of ?

Greez cranked the auto-pilot lever, hopped out of his seat to stretch his legs and arms, and then joined everybody out of the cockpit.

Cere was lounging in the holotable couch and Merrin was tending the terrarium. Cal was in the lounge by the dining area, lying down on the couch while hovering a ball over his face using the Force.

“Hey guys, quiet day today, huh?”

“Indeed, Captain,” Cere replied on behalf of everyone.

“Well, I was thinking of cooking up some deep-fried Nuna legs for lunch,”

The simple mention of that dish got everybody’s attention—for various reasons: Merrin was intrigued given that she hasn’t had a taste of many different dishes around the galaxy, Cere’s stomach growl when she started imagining it from its cooking process until it’s served, Cal had the same reason as Cere’s but another thing came to his mind—it was one of your favorite foods too.

The verdict was clear.

“Alright, I’ll start cookin’,” Greez hobbled to the galley.

Cere noticed that Cal had been quiet, a little dejected, but mostly bored the whole day. As a matter of fact, this was the only time he’s somewhat settled down; over the past four days, he’s busied himself with tinkering with his lightsaber—changing the parts whenever he feels like it—or simply meditating with the attempt of reaching out to you, even with the faintest connection.

“Trouble meditating again?” Cere said while standing by the open doorway to Cal’s quarters.

“Not much, just…”

“Your thoughts dwelling on [y/n] again?”

Cal had no escape from that question, he pursed in his lips and Cere took that as a yes. She called him for lunch and they went to the galley together. The smell of the deep-fried Nuna legs wafted around the ship, it made everybody’s stomach grumble. Greez added his personal touch of adding mushrooms and tomatoes as a side-dish.

Small talk revolved around the table as the crew ate, little BD-1 curiously scanned the food and drink on the table.

“You know, you better teach that droid some table manners, kid!” Greez grumbled as he gobbled his food.

Everybody except Greez chuckled over BD-1 and Greez’s antics. Cere still sensed Cal’s uneasiness. She quietly noticed that he took long in-betweens after taking a spoonful, he was quiet too even during conversations. In the middle of the meal, the holotable was emitting a ringing sound—indicating an incoming transmission—the first three rings of the alarm made Cal jump out of his seat at the table, jump over the three steps and ran to the holotable to switch on the projector.

A projection of you fizzled into the center of the holotable. Cal’s eyes lit up. Cere joined Cal at the holotable, and then later Merrin and Greez paused from eating to hear from you. It has been four days after all.

“[y/n]?”

“Hey Cal. Hi Cere,” you greeted. “Sorry I didn’t transmit as soon as I finished in Geonosis. I actually got sidetracked, I managed to hitch a ride with some rebel fighters.”

Through the transmission, you narrated how you met the rebel fighters during your solo mission on Geonosis. They didn’t ask much questions, although they did offer you a ride.

“Where are you headed to with them?” Cere asked, leaning closer to the rim of the holotable.

Despite the slightly blurry resolution of your hologram projection, the withdrawn expression in your face is evident. You sigh and then bite your lip as you carefully choose your words.

“It’s… well, they prefer not to have it said aloud, I’ll explain later. I’ll send the coordinates after this transmission instead,”

“Is it their base?”

Cal was trying his best to conceal his eagerness. The energy that was missing from him this morning finally appeared since you showed up—albeit as a hologram projection.

“I believe so,” you calmly said, clueless to Cal’s sudden mood shift. “They’re very… discreet about it.”

“Alright, we’ll be expecting the coordinates soon,”

“Sure, Cere,” you smiled and slightly angled your head to Cal.

“We’ll meet you there,” Cal concludes.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Along with the coordinates, I’ll be sending a code—for security purposes—once you get close enough to connect with their comms, they’re going to need that code to secure your entry.”

“Gotcha,” Cal replied.

You smiled before your projection on their end crackled and vanished into thin air. Shortly after the transmission ended, a “ping” sound rang in the holotable. Cal’s fingers typed away on the small control screen as the terminal received the said coordinates; a hologram of a planet with a single moon pops out into the center.

“The coordinates point out to this moon right here,” he zoomed in on the smaller sphere in the projection. He reads out the planet name on the terminal’s screen, “Yavin IV.”

“We’ll meet her there, but first: finish your lunch, please, Cal?”

“Okay, okay,” Cal childishly threw his hands up in surrender and marched back to the dining table and emptied his plate in a heartbeat—he practically beat everyone else.

“At least drink something so you don’t choke from all that food stuck in your throat,” Greez commented.

Cal snatched his stainless tumbler and chugged away at its contents, he wiped his lip with the sleeve of his jumpsuit and marched down the three steps from the dining room.

“Cal, kid, we aren’t leaving in the next ten minutes. We aren’t even finished with our food yet!” Greez exclaimed, stopping Cal from getting any farther from the lounge.

“Right, right…” Cal skidded his boots against the floor and returned to the dining table with everyone else. “Sorry.”

“Have you ever been to that place where we’ll be meeting [y/n]?” Merrin started the conversation. Her curiosity was always a good conversation starter.

Yavin IV was an addition to the list of firsts for everyone. The rebel fighters that you were with are just as mysterious. Cere presumed that it may not be the same rebel fighters as Saw’s back in Kashyyyk.

“But if they did help her, then we know that they’re on the same side as ours,” Cere added.

A few minutes later, Greez was finished with his food—along with the rest of the crew—and then marched back to his seat in the cockpit; Cal followed behind him and flopped down on his shotgun seat, he typed away the coordinates on his side of the control panel while Greez prepped the Mantis for the jump to hyperspace.

“Yavin IV is five parsecs from where we are,”

“Well, you all better strap in your seats!” Greez announced, slowly cranking the hyperspace lever until the stars were beginning to appear as thin, blue streaks of light.

[heuristicallyinclined]

MallekWeek2020 Day 2 Writing Prompt

Day 2: MSPA Reader sharing a hobby with Mallek

AO3

You had been enjoying the comfortable silence between you and Mallek. You came over to hang out with him, his hive, despite the mess, was becoming very comfortable to you. You enjoyed being able to just pop in and hang out with someone without worrying about saying the wrong thing or even having to say anything. The two of you would chill while he was working on something and you came to really enjoy having a quiet place to get away from it all. You quickly came to understand why he seems to hole up in here between being so busy and well, living on Alternia. 

Even as comfortable as you were on your palmhusk, with a blanket between you and his nasty couch and the cool weight of his lusus loosely coiled around you, you felt some concern. Mallek hasn't gotten up in a few hours and alien or not, that can't be good for him. Has he even left his hive this wipe? You get his attention. 

You call his name. 

"yeah;" 

You ask him if he is getting close to wrapping up. 

"in a bit; what = up;"

Not a whole lot, you just wanted to know if he wanted to go out and do something with you. You know, get up for a bit, move around, maybe go outside. 

"dont worry about it; ive been holed up in here for way longer that this;"

That was supposed to make you worry less about him? 

He snickers. "relax; it sounds like my lusus put you up to it;" 

You glance down at Snakedad who is now looking up at you. You used to think he wasn't very expressive, but over time, you would like to think you were getting pretty good at reading him. Like right now, where you're pretty sure he is distinctly giving you a very exasperated look. This was probably a reoccurring conversation in the Adalov household.

You let him know he didn't. But if you have to start conspiring with his lusus to make him go outside, you absolutely will. 

Snakedad hisses something at Mallek. You have no idea what he said, but there was a parental tone to it. At least, you think so. Mallek groans a bit and it's kinda funny to you, no matter how wildly different Alternia is, you recognize affectionate nagging when you see it. 

"fine; i = almost done; damn; turning my own lusus against me; that = cold robobud;" He shakes his head and writes a few more lines of code before closing the window. He turns to face you and stretches, "what = it you have in mind;" 

Oh. You didn't get that far. You just didn't think that staying inside this long was great for him. 

"what = it you normally do when you = out;" 

Normally, you like going out, meeting new people, seeing new things, and rolling with wherever the night takes you. You don't really think these things through, you just kinda do them and hope for the best. 

He raises an eyebrow at you, incredulous, "that = wild; you know that right; here is not the best place for that;" 

You've survived so far. And made plenty of new friends! You're having fun between the peril. 

"there = some real freaks out there though; some shit could happen to you;" 

You know what? He's right. This one time you got abducted by an alien who brought you back to his place and wanted to put wires in you. But you think it worked out pretty well in the end. 

You nudge him, smiling. He huffs, but you know he thought it was funny. 

"fine; but im picking where we = going;" 

You're cool with that.

He smirks, "and how we get there;" 

Also cool, as long as he got some fresh air and moved around tonight you were good. 

At least, you were, you assumed he wanted to take his limo. You were very wrong. 

And that's how you ended up holding onto him for dear life as he raced through the city on his rocketboard, him laughing from excitement and maybe your reactions. When he first told you to hold onto him, you just grabbed the bottom of his hoodie. You wrapped your arms around his midsection when he told you that he didn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but you would go flying off if you didn't hold onto him tighter. 

He was right, especially with the speed he was going at. You were terrified but also it was starting to grow on you. It was kinda like the feeling of when you first drop down a roller-coaster, but the whole time. You eventually relax a bit, still not loosening your hold on him, but no longer burying your face in his back. Lights raced by you and the view was great if you didn't look down. Eventually, he gets you to your destination and stops. He waits a bit for you to collect yourself, peel yourself off of him, and step off. 

"was that enough movement;" 

Yeah. You think so. 

Your heart is still racing and you try to calm down by trying to focus on your surroundings. You two are at a McGrubalds. Wait. This isn't actually far from his place. Was he taking you around in circles or did it just feel like forever? You turn back to him expectantly. 

Did he decide to go the long way or something?

"it = the scenic route;" You adjust your clothes and start smoothing down your hair. "plus you would say something if you didn't think I got enough fresh air;" 

You punch his arm and he ruffles your hair, messing it up again. He starts walking in with you following close behind. The two of you get your meals and sit down in a booth further away from other people. You are enjoying some fried tuber spears when you speak up. 

So this was clearly your first time on a hoverboard. 

He gives you a shit eating grin and you continue. 

But he's clearly done this before. He doesn't really talk much about his hobbies other than tech stuff. Why is that? 

"i mean; they dont really come up;" he pops a tuber into his mouth, "plus with me going off planet soon; it = not like they matter;" He says this very offhandedly and you don't like it. 

Well, you think it matters. If it makes him happy, even if it doesn't last, it matters. A lot of what made you happy here were dumb little moments and even if maybe they were kinda pointless, it mattered to you because it made things feel worthwhile. 

He gives you a small smile, "you = getting way too deep for a McGrubalds; plus there = not much else other than hoverboarding;" 

What about the artsy stuff he likes? 

"dude what;" 

When he gets into the mood for it, he gets really into cooking. Like he cares a surprising amount for someone whose kitchen looks like a bomb went off inside of it. Also body mods. He has plenty of piercings and tattooed Galekh. He also has his own tattoos that he's designed. 

"that = not artsy; that = is just some dumb shit i do; you = giving me too much credit;" He is being dismissive, but you don't think he means it. 

You like the dumb shit he does. 

You don't want to make things too heavy, so you smile at him and quickly steal a tuber spear from him even though you still have a good amount. He steals one back in retaliation. The two of you continue eating and chatting about whatever comes to mind and he asks you more about where your friend making has taken you. He seems amused by your antics and also somewhat surprised you're alive. Ha, yeah, you too. 

The two of you are wrapping up when you ask him if he had fun going out. 

"yeah; it was a nice change of pace;" He leans back in his seat and smiles, "so = you ready to take the scenic route again;" 

You throw a tuber spear at him. 

[sirengf-moved]

oh boy 1) 2, 5, 7, 10, 15 || 2) 3, 7, 9 || 3) 6, 7, 20 || 4) 4, 9, 27 || part five is embarrassing so none of that shit 💓 || 6) 2, 4, 10 || i gave u so many because i lov u but i'm also fucked up 🍊🌿💐💓

mars i lov u , also don’t worry i’m vain and i love answering questions abt myself so this works perfectly 😌🍯☁️✨🍓🍃 HOLD ONTO UR BUTT THIS IS A LOT :

( part 1 ) 🍨

Have you ever cut your hair yourself?

a: as a kid i think i got something stuff in my hair , gum or ? i’m unsure it’s a foggy memory but i just cut my hair and my mom got soooooo mad bc we had a friend who was a hairdresser and we didn’t tell her or anything and we just cut it , tbh it was pretty liberating but at the same time i don’t remember if i did a good job or not 💀

Do you collect anything?

a: mmm, jars ...... me telling myself i’m gonna gather jars for spellwork and i never actually do it so i just have a shit ton of mason jars , emptied candle jars , small flasks with cork screw lids all sitting around my crystals and incense ect....... rip me.

Are you a fan of bread and butter?

a: yes! i eat fried bread w/ light butter for breakfast most mornings , probably unhealthy but like.......it’s very yummy..... 😔

Have you ever almost died?

a: ive almost drowned at least 3 times, this racist dude thst i almost beat the shit out of nearly ran me over on my way home with his redneck truck ( forgetting i knew where he lived ) , almost asphyxiated myself by swallowing melted chocolate at least 3 /4 times , almost got into a head on collision at a 4 way once, when i jumped from the side of my grandfathers sailboat onto the docks i wasn’t considering how big the leap was and landed fine but almost fell back and would’ve been crushed between the boat and dock , and i thought i was going to die when this homeless man glared me down intensely at the local burger king as i ate my chicken and lowkey cried bc i was also going through an emotional meltdown ( unrelated to said homeless man making vicious murder eyes at me , but that sure didn’t help lol ) i’ve also died a lot in my dreams / almost died in dreamscapes ..... long winded answer but hi mars i’m also fucked up 😌

Favorite animal?

a: GELADA MONKEYS! LOOK THEM UP PLS THEYRE AMAZING I LOVE THEM! BIG FLUFFY BOYS!

( part 2 ) 🥧

Do you believe the butterfly effect is real?

a: hm... i feel like every action mayhaps has some sort of consequence but personally i’ve been seeing that like, how can this be true when you have billionaires who use slave/sweatshops/prison labor but yet are rewarded with vast riches? how can you have all of these people of power constantly doing bad , horrible things and not getting their karma? will they get it ten fold? down the road? is their karma their internal struggles? do they not have any moral qualms? are they MAKING the karma for others? these are questions i constantly ask myself to be quite honest....

Do you believe in witches and/or magic?

a: yes , for the most part. there are some i believe because i can feel it , their energy and majesty in the way they hold themselves and how they view the world, some people just scare me with how they go through life with such certainty on everything, certainty terrifies me to be honest. i do definitely believe in magic! it’s in everything! from someone cooking you something that you regularly cook but it tastes better bc they made it? magic! it’s everywhere! and also practical magic ( spellwork / spirit work / deity & entity work / tarot & oracle ect ) it all interests me and i love talking about it , to people who also believe and practice and KNOW AND RESPECT CULTURE/ HERITAGE / CLOSED PRACTICES! c:

Do you believe in anything mythical/supernatural? (Bigfoot, Mermaids, Vampires, etc.)

a: sorta , i’ve had too many rhythmic taps / scratches on my window in the deep hours of the night to not believe. i’m not sure if i believe in vampires as in modern mainstream standpoint but i’m pretty open to just about anything existing..it’s just this world is so weird and i’d be naive to think that just bc i can’t perceive it with my own eyes, it just simply doesn’t exist... u know?

( part 3 ) 🍡

If a friend called you to help hide a body, would you help or turn them in?

a: i ain’t no snitch. also kinda depends on the friend, bc i wouldn’t turn anyone in regardless ( unless they killed someone innocent / were a budding serial killer omg ) but like do i answer calls? rarely , am i also the one everyone always goes to? yes. either way i’d prolly help you bury the body, answering the phone however? another story. ( who am i kidding i’d be so excited that a friend wants to talk or smth then get roped into this whole drama episode )

Have you ever had a crush on someone that, now as you look back, is completely embarrassing?

a: YES , STORY TIME! okay so i was like 17/18 and i liked this guy and at the time i thought i was being soooooo oblivious about it , but like a few months later a friend was like ‘ did u like so and so? ‘ and i was like ‘ was it that obvious? ‘ and they were all like ‘ painfully ‘ and to this day i still get randomly reminded by my brain how stupid , cringe worthy and weird i acted , like my brain is relentless in reminding me how fucking fat of an L that whole crush thing was........ 🙃

How would you react if you had a secret admirer?

a: depends, ive had ‘secret’ admirers who turned very obsessive in my past, so i’m naturally wary , but idk if someone thinks i’m cool i have no problem with that , but if you put me on this weird pedestal then i have a problem ... 🤲🏽 td;lr : id be as humble as possible bc then i’m reminded i’m perceived.

( part 4 ) 🍰

Favorite actress?

a: lupita n’yongo!!

Favorite type of food?

a: savory / rich/ salty food, i don’t really care for sweet foods ... or fried foods ? i don’t like large portions either tbh, i like to feel full not like dead lol. my favorite types are either seafood or seafood coupled with steak and other assorted meat and sides .

Favorite sport?

a: i liked playing volleyball, i like watching soccer and occasionally college football ( ik ik.... ) but i also love watching women’s professional gymnastics!!

( part 6 ) 🌯

Ever kissed someone who wasn’t single?

a: i don’t think so.... no! it sounds like smth i’d do on accident or smth tbh ... but not smth i’d do purposely!

Have you ever done anything illegal?

a: yes! lots of things! but i’m not gonna list them all here, nothing too serious but lol yes haha

Ever lied straight to someone’s face?

a: daily occurrence tbh, i’m really good at lying , i had to get good at it as a kid in order to avoid shit so 😌 now i can convince gross men that i’m in a relationship with a huge weightlifting bouncer and we have 3 kids and hes on isle 6 and will be back soon when i’m in walmart and some creep attempts to talk to me too much! and they’ll believe me.......

[t0ngue-tech]

Deadline | Three

“Without saying a single word, you emerged turned around and reached out to wrap your arms around Jungkook’s torso. He stumbled a bit before finding his footing. You knew you caught him off guard because it took him a few seconds before he snaked his arms underneath your hair to secure them around your neck.

‘U-Uh--’ Jungkook stammered.”

↠fluff, angst, highschoolAU, fakerelationshipAU↞

word count: 7.4k

↠series: 1 | 2 | 4 | 5 | 6 | ↞ 

A/N: HI GUISE OMG IT’S BEEN SO LONG HASNT IT, BUT HERE I AM!!!! ive honestly been working on this since finals and even when finals finished, i hit a writer’s block. then, all of a sudden i was hit with a rush of motivation and this is the outcome huhu. i hope you all enjoy!!!!

-

-

-

The clock ticked endlessly on and on as the students of your history class were in disarray. Usually everybody would be working with their partners on the history project, but a substitute teacher sat at your teacher’s desk instead; this meant a free period.

Jennie sat with you, huddled in a corner of the classroom catching up on other work for another class. You assisted her with whatever she needed while also proofreading a paper from your AP English class.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit by Jungkook?” Jennie whispered.

Your eyes darted across the room and spotted Jungkook with his head down on the desk, buried within his arms.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You brought your attention back to your paper.

“You do know that two of Chaeyoung’s goons are in this class, right? They’re probably going to tell every single detail about you and Jungkook that happens here.” Jennie leaned in closer to keep her voice at a hushed whisper.

Jennie did have a point, but despite that, you stayed planted in your seat. You were used to having Chaeyoung’s friends’ eyes glancing at you from time to time in class but ever since the night in the diner parking lot, they’ve been watching you like a hawk. It was a bit concerning.

The substitute reminded everyone that the sign-in sheet was at the front of the class and to straighten out the desk before leaving. Before the bell rang, Jungkook awoke from the sound of the desks scraping against the tile floors. He stretched out his limbs and lazily threw his backpack over his shoulder.

As soon as the bell rang, the students stampeded towards the door and Jennie bid you adieu. Jungkook glided across the class to where you were, still putting papers in their correct folders. He held your water bottle and phone in one hand, patiently waiting for you to get situated. When you finished adjusting your bag on your bag, he silently reached for your hand and slid his fingers in between yours. It’s been roughly two weeks and you still weren’t used to the feeling of holding his hand.

“I’ve never seen you look this tired.” You spoke over the rush of students in the hallway.

Jungkook yawned deeply and shook his head to wake himself up a little. “I’ve had three consecutive late night training and it’s been a while since I’ve done this.”

“Do you have a fight coming up?”

“Next month, but I need to make weight and train as much as I can so I have a lot of work to do.” He explained.

“Hm,” you hummed. “I guess this means you have to cut back on the fries.”

Jungkook dropped his jaw slightly. “Oh my god, you’re right.”

Since the two of you started this fake relationship, Jungkook always walked you to your fourth period. He didn’t mind being a few minutes late to his class because his teacher was “cool.” It worried you a little, but he stressed that it was really no big deal.

“Do you have a meeting after school?” Jungkook stationed you against the wall near your classroom to let other students pass through.

“I just have to drop off a few folders to the club classroom and then I have to pick up a package for my mom at the post office right after.” You reached for the items Jungkook held for you and he gave them back to you with ease.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then. I’m gonna head straight home after school to sleep before my practice tonight.” Jungkook sighed as he enveloped you into a tight hug. The hug lasted roughly a minute and just before he let go, it felt as if he placed a soft kiss to the top of your head; unless that was his chin bumping against you because of how tall he was compared to you.

You were used to seeing Jungkook with an abundance of energy and seeing how physically exhausted he was now worried you a lot more than it should have. Instead of focusing like how you usually did, you spent the entire class period looking up different kinds of foods that boxers could eat while trying to make weight. A lot of the information you found were similar lists of light proteins and reminders to watch the sugar and fat intake.

A lightbulb went off somewhere inside of your head and you were now creating a small shopping list in the notes section of your phone. This wasn’t your problem, but somehow you felt compelled to support him. Maybe it was the title of being his “girlfriend,” who knows.

↠↞

You [3:04]: hi mom, i just picked up your package and i’m heading to the grocery store. let me know asap if you need anything

When you arrive at the grocery store parking lot, your mother replied with a short list of a dozen eggs, cherry tomatoes, and a bag of salt and vinegar chips.

“Ground turkey...ground turkey...ground turk-ah.” You dropped the package of lean meat into your shopping cart.

You never tried cooking any of the dishes you had bookmarked on your phone, so your nerves were shaking inside of you. There was a lot more options that weren’t as complicated, but of course, you didn’t want to settle with that.

It never occurred to you that there was a possibility you could poison Jungkook just before his boxing match. This thought made you want to put everything back on the shelves, but you also thought about how tired Jungkook looked today and it gave you some strength to follow through with your plan.

“Ooooh, mama y/n. Making dishes for your man.”

On your way home, Jennie called you to talk for a bit before she took her sister to her dance lesson. You filled her in with your plan to make a few meals for Jungkook so he can keep his energy up and Jennie was elated.

“Jennie, calm down. He’s not my man. I’m just trying to better a good...person? For him?” You pulled up to your driveway and disconnected your phone from your car. “Am I taking this role too seriously?”

“Sigh, y/n. You’re doing exactly what you need to do.” Jennie explained in your ear. “This is going to help you feel more like a girlfriend-girlfriend for him! I’ve seen you hang out with him at school and I can tell you’re still awkward with this whole thing.”

You shuffled into your house with your bags of groceries dangling from your arms and your phone tucked in between your shoulder and ear. “I’m still trying to get used to him, okay? You still have a point, but I might kill him.”

Jennie laughed in your ear and sighed. “That’s okay!”

Your mother waved at your from the kitchen counter and rushed over to help you with your bags.

“I’ll let you know how it goes, bye! Love you!” Just like that, you hung up before Jennie could say anything else.

You remembered that you didn’t tell your mother about Jungkook and you weren’t ready to confront her about him yet.

“How was school, y/n?” Your mother glided over to help you unload your bags.

“It was fine—it’s okay mom, I got this, you can continue with whatever you were doing.” There was a tinge of panic in your voice which didn’t sound as convincing as you wanted it to be.

Your mother lifted an eyebrow and reached in to grab her bag of chips. “Okay, honey. Just uh, don’t forget to put the eggs in the fridge.”

It took a few minutes for your mother to leave the kitchen because she rummaged through the fridge to retrieve a bottle of iced tea to have with her chips. She sat down at the dining table where her laptop was set up as well as a stack of papers.

You silently moved around the kitchen to put certain foods inside of the fridge and laid out a cutting board and other cooking utensils. The first order of business was to wash the lettuce and other vegetables you were going to use.

“Let’s see, lettuce wraps…” After rinsing the vegetables, you tied an apron around your waist. “Season the ground turkey with salt…” You whispered the instructions to yourself and carefully measured the spices and dropped them into the bowl with the ground turkey. It was such a delicate process and you wanted to get everything right on the first try because besides preparing him a few meals, you wanted to surprise him during his training tonight.

To an extent, you knew your way around the kitchen. You could easily whip a meal for yourself that could be done with minimum ingredients, but you weren’t skilled enough to create detailed meals meant for others to eat. This was one of those cases.

You were tempted to ask your mother for assistance because she cooked more often than you did. It wouldn’t hurt to do so, plus you could easily say that the food was for yourself.

“Mom…?” You called out quietly.

Your mother hummed and typed away at her keyboard.

“I may or may not need help.”

She stood up from her chair to take a glance at whatever you were doing. All of your ingredients were sprawled out all over the island in the kitchen. Everything was in disarray and your mother chuckled at the chaos.

“And what in the world are you making?” Your mother closed her laptop and strolled over to the mess of vegetables and packages of meat.

“I—uh, I’m making a whole bunch of shi—“ you stopped yourself from completing your sentence. “Stuff. A whole bunch of stuff.”

You barely started the cooking process and you already felt defeated. It was in your nature to figure things out and handle things on your own, but this was cooking for another party so you needed all the help the universe could give you.

“Okay, well, what exactly are you making y/n?” Your mother asked while tying on her own apron.

“Ground turkey lettuce wraps, roasted vegetables, sweet potato fries, and some sort of protein bowl with these chicken tenders, and a lot more stuff.” As you listed your menu, your mother stared at you suspiciously. “What?”

“Nothing, I just—I didn’t know you had such a healthy diet that’s all.”

There were two reasons why you felt yourself sweating: 1) prepping ingredients was tough work and 2) you hated lying to your mother.

“Yeah, I just wanted to try something new, you know? Gotta stay in shape somehow someway.” You let out a nervous chuckle and your mother stared at you, unconvinced.

It took a few seconds before your mother scaled the island to stand next to you. She eyed out the mess in front of you and sighed.

“You know, y/n,” she began and you swallowed the lump in your throat. “When your father was still alive, I used to prepare a lot of meals for him just like this because he always left for work before the sun came up.”

You knew exactly what your mother was trying to tell you and yet you still hesitated.

“I may be going out on a limb here, but is this for that boy who dropped you off back home a few days ago?”

Right on the money.

It only took a matter of seconds plus the piercing gaze coming from your mother to crumble and nod your head. You had no problem in confining in your mother with absolutely anything, but this was painful for you to do. Despite what you told Jungkook, the reason why you didn’t tell your mother about your “relationship” is because it was only temporary. She had just witnessed you sulk throughout the entire summer and you didn’t want to burden her a second time by telling her that you and Jungkook “broke up.” Keeping the relationship a secret would have been hard work but you had to do what you had to do.

“You saw him?” You asked quietly.

She nodded her head and pulled out an extra cutting board from one of the compartments in the island. “I was repotting some of my flowers at the side of the house and when I got up to stretch, I saw you two through the gate; he opened the door of his car for you.”

For the record, you and Jennie both bet that your mother was going to say something within the first week.

“Uh, y-yeah. His name is Jungkook.” The smile that appeared on your face happened on an impulse.

You proceeded to tell your mother the forged story Jungkook came up with and also mentioned that you known him since elementary and that he was your partner for a history project.

“Wait, is this the same Jungkook who put the gum in your hair?” Your mother exclaimed with a laugh.

“That’s—That’s the one.” The bitter memory of having to cut your hair just below your shoulders flashed in your head. You also remembered the moment when Jungkook’s mother showed up the next day to pick him up from school and made him apologize again. She also gave you a ziploc of powdered brownies because of how terrible she felt.

“Wow, what a small world, huh?” Your mother smiled fondly at you. “Y/n, you know that I don’t want you hiding this kind of thing from me. You can trust me.”

It truly broke your heart hearing her words. If it was already difficult admitting the relationship, you knew you were going to suffer when the deadline would occur.

“I know, mom. I’m sorry.” You replied sadly.

She patted your back and grinned. “Don’t be sorry, honey. Now let’s get this chaos in order because first and foremost, you should always prep all of your ingredients first.”

Cooking took a lot longer than you expected because of your lack of skills. It was a trainwreck, but your mother managed to assist you in making a few days worth of meal prep for Jungkook. Even though you burnt your fingers on the pans from roasting the vegetables in the oven, you were satisfied with the outcome.

“Hopefully Jungkook isn’t going to die.” You sighed.

Your mother pulled out a reusable bag from the cupboard and neatly stacked the tupperwares inside.

“He’s going to be fine, y/n. I taste tested your food and it tastes fine. Just be sure to tell Jungkook that I’m going to be needing my tupperware back.” She instructed.

You nodded and mentioned that you were going to use her car because your keys were in your room which was “too far” for you.

As you boarded the driver side of her car, you sighed deeply thinking about if this was too much of a gesture. Giving someone food is one thing but making a home cooked meal was another.

“It’s fine, y/n. It’s fine. It’s just food, it’s not like your kissing him or something—okay wait, no. Just shut up and drive.” You muttered to yourself and started the engine.

↠↞

The gym that Jungkook trained at was about a fifteen to twenty minute drive from your house which meant it was most likely closer to his house. It was no secret where Jungkook trained, plus you had him on almost all of your social media platforms so you saw parts of what the gym looked like.

When you pulled into the parking lot, you spotted Jungkook’s car easily because of how bare the lot was at that time of night. You had time to abort your mission, but you found yourself stepping out of your vehicle and grabbing the bag from the passenger seat.

Entering the gym, there was a strong stench of overused body spray mixed with the tiniest tinge of sweat. There were a few people still using the exercise equipment and a few boys and girls working with a trainer. You took a couple of more steps inside and you easily spotted Jungkook sparring with his coach in the boxing ring towards the left wing of the gym. You approached the surrounding area cautiously, not wanting to distract Jungkook from his training.

You watched Jungkook take forceful jabs to the sparring equipment that his coach was holding. The sound of his boxing gloves hitting his coach’s punching mitts was intense, almost making you flinch with each punch. With the headgear blocking majority of his face, it was still clear it was Jungkook because of his strawberry blond hair.

From where you were standing, you could hear his coach tell him to take a break for a bit. He helped Jungkook remove his mouth guard and boxing gloves. Jungkook took off his headgear and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. He quickly glanced in your direction and took a double take just as quick. Jungkook climbed out of the ring and you met him half way as he wiped down his body with a towel.

“Hey, uh, this is a nice surprise.” Jungkook chuckled.

“Hi.” You said blankly. You didn’t realize you were spacing out until Jungkook waved his hand in front of your face. “I come bearing gifts.”

Before handing him the bag, Jungkook offered you a seat at a bench nearby. He sat down a couple of inches away from you, apologizing that he probably smells disgusting and is drenched with sweat.

“I couldn’t shake the thought of you being exhausted all day and you also mentioned that you had to make weight. So I took the liberty to meal prep you some food.” You explained and handed him the bag.

Jungkook smiled at you with a shocked expression and peered inside of the bag. He rummaged through the tupperware that were labeled with post its.

“Y/n, I--I don’t know what to say, thank you so much.” He couldn’t erase the smile from his lips and opened up the tupperware that contained a thick turkey wrap that was cut into two. There was also a batch of roasted sweet potatoes, parsnip, and red bell peppers stuffed inside. “Did you eat dinner yet?”

Well shit. You were so focused on cooking for Jungkook that you haven’t even eaten anything since that afternoon.

“N-No, I haven’t.”

“Great! No, not great but, wanna stay for about ten more minutes? I’m gonna do one more session and I want to share this with you.” Jungkook closed up the tupperware and stood up.

You were worried that Jungkook felt hesitant about eating the food you made yourself; with the help of your mother of course. But he looked extremely excited about asking you to eat with him that saying no didn’t seem like an option.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.” You answered sweetly.

“Okay, just sit tight.” He spoke, practically skipping all the way back to the boxing ring.

Before getting started, Jungkook and his coach exchanged a few words and peeked over Jungkook’s shoulder to wave at you. It was most likely he introduced you as his girlfriend; it was still a weird title to have under your belt.

It was exhilarating watching Jungkook in the ring. You didn’t mean to stare, but you found yourself gawking at his biceps that were glistening under the fluorescent lights. You remembered Jungkook being scrawny back in middle school and freshman year. Then all of sudden, he grew taller, gained muscles, and gained the habit of dying his hair often. Honestly, he had always been adorable but you never saw Jungkook in that way, ever. It was difficult to admit, but he looked attractive in his element.

That was it though. Just attractive.

The ten minutes flew by in a blink of an eye. He politely asked you to wait for another five minutes because he wanted to wash up before sitting in close proximity with you for the second time. Just like those ten minutes, the five minutes passed just as quickly. Jungkook came out from another room, waddling with his drenched hair bouncing everywhere and his duffle bag swinging from his side. He gestured you over to exit the gym which you were thankful for. The overwhelming smell of the body spray started to give you a headache.

↠↞

“Are you sure you want to share this with me? I made this for you, Jungkook.” You questioned as you sat on the parking block in the empty parking stall next to Jungkook’s car.

Jungkook tossed his duffle bag into the backseat of his car and proceeded to sit next to you. He changed into a dark gray track suit and still had water dripping from the ends of his hair.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I always drink some protein after training and that’s going to fill me up pretty well. You can have the other half of this wrap since you didn’t eat yet—oh fuck, my blender bottle.” He retreated back to his car and retrieved his blender bottle that already had a measured amount of protein powder and a bottle of water. “Have you made one of these before?”

You shook your head and he handed you both bottles and just as you were making his meal prep, you felt like you were going to ruin his protein.

“You see this line here? 12 ounce? Fill the blender up to there, close it tightly and then shake as if your life depended on it.” He instructed.

The instructions were simple and yet you still continued to second guess yourself over something so trivial. You did as you were told and as you shook the bottle, Jungkook laughed at the strained look you had on your face.

“Hey! Cut me some slack. I don’t shake protein on a regular basis.” You abruptly stopped the motion and Jungkook continued to laugh whilst pleading for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just--” Jungkook still failed to stifle his laughter. “Your face---” He took the bottle from your hands and imitated the look of your eyes screwed shut and your lips pursed closely to your teeth. Jungkook’s expression caused a burst a laughter to rise out of you and playfully shoved him off of the parking block.

“Just eat your food, Jeon!” You chuckled.

Jungkook recovered from him fit of laughter and proceeded to take the lid off the tupperware. Your fingers trembled as he handed you the other half of the wrap. While your eyes held the gaze of anxiety, he had the gaze of astonishment mixed with hunger.

“So, what’s in it?” He asked whilst examining the wrap.

“Uh, turkey breast slices, yellow bell pepper, spinach, tomato, and hummus.” As you explained, Jungkook lifted the wrap closer and closer to his mouth.

The deafening silence between the two of you as Jungkook bit and chewed was astounding. Your throat had gone dry and it felt as if your half of the wrap was going to slide out of your hands.

Jungkook abruptly stopped mid-chew and looked at you with his eyebrows knitted together. Your eyes turned into moons as you felt your heart break piece by piece.

“Y/n…” Jungkook mumbled slowly.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to prepare yourself for the rejection of your food. However, you did expect it.

“This is fucking delicious.” He said in pure bliss. “I don’t ever eat anything like this, but holy shit, this is amazing.”

The disappointed look on your face twisted into a confused facial expression. “Really?! Are you sure?”

“Try it.”

Even after your mother’s approval and Jungkook’s compliment, you were still hesitant in taking a bite. Jungkook gestured at you to try the turkey wrap as he took his own bite.

You took a breath and proceeded to follow through with the action. After chewing for a bit, you came to the realization that, “wow, okay, this isn’t bad.”

“See?! It’s great!” Jungkook gave you a pat on the shoulder. “Why were you so nervous about it?”

“It’s because the only people I’ve ever cooked for are my mom and Jennie.” You explained. “I make the most basic things ever, so you know, of course I’d be nervous making you something that I made.”

He nodded his head and reached for one of the vegetables in the tupperware. “Well, I really appreciate it, y/n—for doing this, I mean. You didn’t have to.”

“I know.” You sighed. “I wanted to.”

Jungkook smiled at you with his cheeks puffed out from the food that he stuffed inside. You felt compelled to poke one of his cheeks, but you fought it because bringing him food was already as “intimate” as you could get.

You still found it hard to make the first move to hold Jungkook’s hand in school or even hook your arm with his. He always initiated skinship first which you were grateful for because you were obviously too chicken to do it yourself.

“So,” You started after swallowing another bite of the turkey wrap. “I uh--my mom, she uh, you know, knows.”

Jungkook stopped midway through his bite and stared at you with concerning eyes. “What happened?”

You began to tell the tale of your mother’s smart instincts. Jungkook’s cheeks flushed for a moment.

“She remembers you as the kid who put gum in my hair.” You gently nudged his shoulder and he snorted at the memory.

“Ah, yeah, I remember that. My mom got so mad at me.” He sighed and flicked at a lock of your hair with clean fingers. “Sorry about that, by the way.”

You envisioned the eleven year old version of Jungkook who “stealthily” stuck a wad of gum in your hair but tripping over someone’s backpack while trying to flee.

“It’s alright.” You chuckled and put your hand up.

Jungkook quickly finished the rest of his wrap and chugged half of his protein shake. “You want to try some? It’s chocolate.”

You hesitated at first, only because you had that split second thought of sharing an indirect kiss with him.

I need to stop watching anime.

After what seemed to be forever, you reached out and took a swig from his protein bottle and scrunched your nose.

“It tastes like...grass.” You shuddered and smacked your lips, still tasting the chocolately-grass flavored protein on your tongue.

Jungkook laughed sharply and escaped to grab another water bottle to give to you out of his duffle bag. “Yeah sorry, it’s a vegan protein. You get used to it when you drink it often.” He offered you another sip which you declined with a sour facial expression.

Your brain sifted through the thoughts that were racing inside of you and you thought about whether or not Chaeyoung was used to the taste of Jungkook’s protein flavor. You wondered if she ever gave him a home cooked meal or if she randomly showed up at the gym while he was training.

Duh. Of course she has y/n. She was his girlfriend.

You weren’t trying to compare yourself to Chaeyoung, but he did date her for three years which meant he was accustomed to random acts of flirtatious banter and actions. On the other hand, you were also used to those things but with Sehun, not Jungkook. It never really occurred to you before, but you wondered why he never hesitated to show public displays of affection to you; his breakup with Chaeyoung was just as “recent” as yours and yet it almost seemed like a second nature for him.

Just this once, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“Hey Jungkook,” you began softly waiting for a signal from him to continue your words. “How is it so easy for you to do this?”

He tilted his head and pointed to his blender bottle. “Do what? Drink my protein?”

“No.” You chuckled. “I don’t know, pretend to be in this relationship with me. Pet names, holding my hand, you know, the works.”

Jungkook stretched his legs out in front of him and took a deep breath. “Honestly,” he started. “It isn’t easy.”

You raised an eyebrow. You weren’t expecting this answer at all.

“For three years, I’ve only affectionately held one girl’s hand and called only one girl babe or whatever. It’s all I’ve ever known--routine, you know. So, jumping right into something new terrified me a little, but I knew I had to be confident about this so Chaeyoung could finally leave me alone.” Jungkook explained.

This was probably one of the most serious moments you ever had with Jungkook. While you always made it known that you weren’t used to PDA with Jungkook, he remained confident with every move he made that you never suspected him to feel the same way as you did. It was honestly impressive.

Also, Jungkook was right. He had to do this in order for Chaeyoung to finally get off his back. Although you held his hand in the hallways and hugged him whenever he initiated it, Chaeyoung and her lackeys could probably tell from a mile away that there was something suspicious just from the look in your eyes; a woman’s intuition.

If you put as much effort as Jungkook did in the beginning, then maybe this whole thing would be over much quicker. After all, that was the stipulations of this fake relationship: it would last until Chaeyoung gives up. You also had a hidden goal embedded in this relationship which was to make Sehun jealous. Selfish? Yes. Did you care? A little.

You left the conversation as that and carefully eased into a different subject. Jungkook never questioned your question, he just casually followed your lead.

You decided to spend another ten minutes with Jungkook before deciding to head home; it was still a school night. Jungkook tidied up the backseat of his car to make proper room for the bag of meal prep so it wouldn’t fall over while he drove.

“By the way, am I still picking you up tomorrow morning?” Jungkook asked taking the bag from you.

“Yeah, if you still want to.” You gave yourself a few more seconds before continuing. “My mom actually starts a little later than normal tomorrow, so if you want to come out to say hi then..”

Jungkook took a noticeable breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah. I’d love to say hi. I’ll stop by the usual time.”

You nodded your head and waited for Jungkook to ready himself to get into the driver’s seat. Instead, he shut the backseat door and gestured you your car. You cocked an eyebrow and spun around on your heel with Jungkook walking closely behind you.

“New car?” He asked.

“No, my mom’s.” You unlocked the car and just as he’s done every single time, Jungkook moved ahead of you to open the car door. You placed your phone into one of the cupholders and opened the middle console to double check if your wallet was still there.

There was a voice inside your head screaming at you to turn the fuck around and give Jungkook a hug or at least a high five. You hesitated because it’s what you do, but the voice grew louder and louder until your thoughts boiled over.

Without saying a single word, you emerged turned around and reached out to wrap your arms around Jungkook’s torso. He stumbled a bit before finding his footing. You knew you caught him off guard because it took him a few seconds before he snaked his arms underneath your hair to secure them around your neck.

“U-Uh--” Jungkook stammered.

This was your cue to release him and you did just that.

“Drive safe.” You playfully swatted his chest, making him flinch and then sliding into your mother’s car.

“You too. Drive safe.” Jungkook closed the car door and before he shifted his body, you caught a glimpse of a smile on his face. You started the engine and rolled the windows down. Jungkook turned back around to you and you waved him off so he could go to his car. He also waved goodbye and you waited until he got into his car before you pulled out of the parking stall.

The hug you gave him was going to be the first of many that you were going to initiate first. You promised yourself to actually act like a girlfriend for once. Hugs were a bit on the easy side for you because you didn’t need to look at him while doing it. Little by little, you were going to push yourself to initiate PDA towards Jungkook. Sehun would get jealous, Chaeyoung would officially call it quits with Jungkook and then everything would go back to normal.

↠↞

You loved it whenever your mother started later in the mornings. This meant you could sit at the table with her and chat before heading to school. It was rare for her to be home before you went to school because even on her days off, she would catch up on some sleep.

It was a quiet Wednesday morning and you were enjoying a plate of waffles drizzled with maple syrup and dusted with powdered sugar. Your mother sliced you up a few strawberries and poured you a nice tall glass of orange juice. Whenever she prepared a decent size breakfast like this, it reminded you of your childhood; breakfast with your parents on a typical Sunday morning with you begging your father to add whipped cream to your waffles and your mother nagged at you to not pile on more sugar on your breakfast. There wasn’t a lot of memories stored in your headspace, but you cherished them all.

“So that’s what you were working on yesterday.” You forked a slice of your waffle into your mouth.

“Yeah. I don’t know why the head honcho decided to move the meeting today on such short notice.” Your mother spoke from the kitchen, spooning another serving of the batter into the waffle maker. “At least I finished it, but I might be coming home an hour or two late because today’s schedule got completely rearranged.”

Nowadays, it was not uncommon for you to be home alone or alone until late hours of the night. Over the years, your mother worked hard and became head of her department in the office. By the time you were a sophomore, she went on a few business trips that left you home alone for a few weekends. You had to admit, it was a bit lonely at times, but you were extremely proud of her accomplishments.

Your phone vibrated against the hardwood of the dining table with a surprising text message from Jungkook.

[6:53] jeon kook: Outside

Your fork clattered on top of the plate and you bolted towards your driveway, disregarding your mother’s question.

“I thought the usual time meant 7:15?” You questioned Jungkook as he stood at the passenger side of his car, flattening out his shirt and ruffling his hair. He nonchalantly opened his car and pulled out a drink carrier that held three drinks.

Your eyes grew wide and your jaw dropped slightly.

“What--What is going on?” You asked suspiciously.

“Iced hazelnut latte for you and two orange-mango iced teas because I don’t know how your mom takes her coffee.” Jungkook explained holding up the carrier and shutting the car door.

“O-Okay.” You stuttered, still confused as to why he was doing this. “Let’s go in then.”

As the two of you walked up the pavement, you suddenly remembered this would technically be the first time he’s been in your home; the one time during elementary didn’t count because it was for your birthday party. Jungkook would be stepping into your home as your “boyfriend” and it was nerve wracking. Was your mother going to embarrass you? Were you going to embarrass yourself?

“Mom!” You called out, almost hesitant to let Jungkook inside. “Jungkook is here.”

You stepped out of the way to let Jungkook in who was struggling to kick hi shoes off before entering.

“H-Hi! Good morning Mrs--”

“Oh just call me ‘auntie’, Jungkook. It’s alright.” Your mother always instructed your friends to call her ‘auntie’ while Jennie called her ‘mom’.

“A-Auntie..” Jungkook repeated with a small smile. “I’m sorry to drop by on short notice.”

“It’s no problem. Have a seat and have some breakfast before you two head out.” At your mother’s words, you flashed her wide eyes. Even if this was all apart of the relationship package, you only prepared yourself for them to exchange greetings not have an entire conversation over breakfast.

“I don’t know how you take your coffee--or if you even like coffee, so I got you an orange-mango iced tea.” Jungkook took a few steps forward, nervous to enter the kitchen. You gave him a gentle push and he glided across your wooden floor to hand over her beverage.

“Oh, Jungkook, thank you.” She traded the drink with a plate of waffles for him to indulge in.

As he walked back towards you, you gave him a reassuring “okay” sign with your fingers. Jungkook seemed to want extra “good-boyfriend-points” and he seemed to be on the right track.

↠↞

Breakfast with your mother went surprisingly well.

One of the first things Jungkook said was an apology for ruining your hair and with a full hearted laugh, she forgave him. Your mother asked about school and shockingly, he didn’t quite lie about his academic performance. He expressed his struggle to focus in class sometimes and he was glad to have you tutor him from time to time. Nothing embarrassing, nothing too cringey, everything went exceptionally well.

Your mother thanked Jungkook for picking you up and also thanked him once again for the iced tea as you two were preparing to leave. She even witnessed him open the car door for you. You have to admit, you were impressed and proud of Jungkook for doing this.

“I’m pretty sure she likes you.” You commented and rolled down your window.

Jungkook chuckled and slicked his hair back. “Of course, why wouldn’t she?”

“Oh my god, I take it back.” You leaned further away from him, cringing at his greasiness.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Jungkook gently tugged at your wrist to bring you back to how you were sitting before. “I swear I was shitting bricks though, but your mom is a lot easier to talk to than what I thought.”

You smiled as you listened to Jungkook rant about how he couldn’t sleep last night because he was too nervous. His eyes flickered from you back to the road and even still holding onto your wrist, he still spoke with a few hand gestures. This would have been your cue to wriggle yourself free, but you suppressed the urge. You had to get comfortable somehow, someway and this was your way of trying.

“By the way, how does your mom take her coffee?” Jungkook released your wrist as he reversed his car into a parking stall.

“Straight up black. Iced or hot. Ugh, it tastes disgusting.” You shivered and rubbed your wrist.

“I guess I’ll bring that over the next time I meet with you two.”

Small words were exchanged as the two of you exited Jungkook’s car. You had both of your backpacks at your footside during the whole car ride and he walked over to your side to take his bag from you, you offered to put it on for him. He squinted his eyes at you, wondering what you were up to this time. But you nudged him on to slip his arms through the straps.

“Hmm, y/n. What’s going on? First the meal prep then--oh fuck, my waffles!” Jungkook thrashed around and quickly opened the passenger side door of his car to reach for the ziploc with extra waffles that your mother made for him. “Anyway, first the meal prep, then that hug you gave me--which by the way, you never do first. During breakfast, you dressed up my waffles for me and now your helping me put on my bag? What exactly are you planning, Ms. y/n?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “First of all, at my house, it’s called manners. Second of all, I’m not planning anything. I’m just...playing my part.”

Jungkook chuckled and slyly weaved his fingers in between yours because of the amount of students that were in the parking lot.

“Well, whatever pushed that on, I’m glad it did. Chaeyoung was seriously doubting us.” He whispered.

“You know that for certain?” You asked intrigued because he did sound certain.

“Yeah, she told me.” Jungkook kept his hushed tone. “Remember at the diner? She went on and on saying that you didn’t seem like a ‘girlfriend’ because you acted differently with Sehun or whatever. I told her to just mind her business.”

A quiet sigh slipped past your lips. Chaeyoung wasn’t wrong, which was why you were trying your best to push past your boundaries and act like a better girlfriend. Jungkook hasn’t done anything that you didn’t like. He always quietly warned you if he was going to do something out of the ordinary like a back hug. You were always grateful for this, so you needed to meet him halfway for once.

“I--” You started. “I’ll try my best to do better, okay?”

Jungkook smiled at you and shook his bangs out of his eyes. “Thanks.”

He guided you all the way to your locker and leaned against the cool metal. This was practically routine for the two of you; you’d head to your locker first to grab whatever textbooks you needed for first and second period, then head over to Jungkook’s locker to grab a single notebook.

“Any plans for lunch?” Jungkook asked as he entered his locker combination.

“I was going to go to the math lab. I have to go over some criteria with Chanyeol since I didn’t get to stay for a full meeting for the past week.” You explained.

“I feel like that’s my fault since you’ve been helping me with my math work. Sorry about that.” Jungkook kept his head in his locker searching for god knows what.

“It’s no...problem.” You said barely above a whisper. Across the hall, you easily spotted Sehun with his group of friends chilling against another row of lockers. There was no doubt that he was staring right at you while his friends became background noise.

It wasn’t fair. You wouldn’t need to be making Sehun jealous in the first place if you two didn’t break up in the first place. You and Sehun would have been happy together and nothing would be messy right now.

Ugh. Shut up, y/n.

You didn’t even need to make Sehun jealous in the first place; this was just you being selfish. Sehun became unhappy at some point in the relationship and you had a personal duty to show him that you were happy with someone else.

“I guess I’m seeing you after school then.” Jungkook shut his locker, making you break the eye contact with Sehun. He kept his back turned without knowing who or what you were staring at.

“Yeah.” You absentmindedly tugged at Jungkook’s shirt to smooth out a couple of the wrinkles that splayed across. In return, he gently pushed a few hairs out of your face with his fingertips.

“Alright, let’s get you to class, Ms. y/n.” Jungkook took the textbook out of your grasp so he could properly hold your hand.

As you laced your hand into Jungkook’s, you stole a glance of Sehun whose eyes were still trained on you. You swore to yourself once again that you were going to show Sehun that you were happy with your boyfriend, Jungkook. Sehun was going to have to watch in the background as you walked the halls of the school with someone who wasn’t him.

Your class was in the opposite direction of where Sehun stood with his friends. Just as you started to walk off with Jungkook, you softly squeezed his hand and lean your head against his shoulder. There was an intense feeling of eyes piercing through the back of your head and just before Jungkook could look down at your face, you smirked.

Bingo.

-

-

-

♡ rae jagi

[e1ana]

leisure writing :)

recently by brain has been all AHHHHHHDHHBSGDVJHS BCHJNNH and its really negatively impacted my writing, especially for my fics :( 

i’ve decided to go on a short hiatus for them for a bit to let my brain catch up. i’ve just been writing random stuff and letting it go in a n y direction to give my brain  break and i think??? this might??? be the best?????? decision ive ever made????? my brain just feels so un-fried. its awesome. 

so far it seems to be taking the shape of a YoI fic? idk. I just finished the show for the second time and i absolutely love it! I guess by brain’s been wired on Yuri!!! for a bit now so i’m not surprised at the direction its headed.

i’m still letting it go in any direction though, and i’m not sure if im going to put it up in a03 (i might if i decide i like it, but im not working on it with the intent of uploading it.)

so yeah. here’s the first bit of that. i though i’d upload it on here just bc i can and idk what else to do with it. hope you enjoy :) rating is teen bc of some cursing but thats it

(korkad means stupid in swedish)

Rain.

It wasn’t a loud sound - just the gentle pitter-patter of it against a window can paint a room in a quiet, soothing blanket of white noise. Viktor Nikiforov buries himself further in his comforter. Mid April drizzles really were something else. 

Begrudgingly, VIktor pulls himself from his bed. He looks out of his beside window to find a sunset that perfectly matched with the serene morning rain. 

He yawns and stretches, a soft grumble coming from his lips. He stands up and walks to his kitchen. Every morning is practically the same - wake up, debate going back to sleep, brush teeth/expensive and extensive skincare, eat, and go straight to the rink. Getting up at 7 am might sound overkill, but the lax speed of Viktor’s early morning routine needs extra breathing room.

He drags a hand full of some kind of sweet smelling lotion down his face, massaging it in with the melting pot of other creams and serums. The concoction is thick on his face, though not totally unpleasant. Viktor feels a bit more invigorated now, the cold water startling him up. Nevertheless, he starts the coffee machine. He swings his legs as he sits atop the counter and scrolls through his instagram. A sharp pinch on the cheek startled him from his trance.

“I told you to stop sitting on the counter, korkad. Nobody wants to cook on your ass juice.”

Ah, the overlooked step to the routine - cope with an insufferable roomate at ‘too early’ am.

“Good morning, Chris. I hope you slept well.”

Maybe insufferable wasn’t the right word for Chris normally, but his unrivalled snark and Viktor’s early morning sluggishness were not a fantastic mix. Chris grabs him by the sweatshirt and nearly yanks him off of the marble tabletop. He makes a show of wiping the area where Viktors butt once was. Finally, the sweet sound of gurgling and spluttering signifies the end of the coffee maker’s cycle. 

Viktor pours in a fairly reasonable amount of sweetened cream, the dark brown going caramel colored and scented. He takes a long gulp, downing half the mug in one go. He looks up at Chris, who is now leaning against counter one on arm and glaring. He offers a smile at the glowering man.

“Okay, now you can be a sassy bitch.”

Chris rolls up the towel and flicks it at Viktor’s butt, drawing an undignified squeak from the slightly shorter man. He snorts a laugh, but thankfully gives Viktor his space for the rest of the morning. 

He finishes the rest of his coffee quickly, the caffeine already buzzing through his brain. He checks his watch - nearly time to leave. He packs a few protein bars and water bottles along with his sweets and shirt. He calls out to Chris before grabbing his keys and locking the door. 

He pulls his sweatshirt hood a little tighter around his face, slipping into his freezing cold car. He clicked on the heat, despising how long it took for the damn thing to heat up. 

The drive to the rink was slow today. He wasn’t in any rush, and the slow rain hitting the metal roof of his car made for a nice serenade. He watched the outside pass by slowly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel absentmindedly. 

When he pulled up to the rink, he noticed two things. One, it was bustling with activity. Usually, the place looked practically deserted at nine in the morning. The swarms of people and clicking cameras were an odd sight. 

Two, a man stands outside of the rink, wringing his wrists. He bites his lips and looks impossibly nervous. He blinks a couple of times before waving his hands frantically at one of the reporters. Viktor can’t help but laugh out loud in the solitude of his car. He pulls into the driveway, eyeing the dark haired man the whole time.

He’s vaguely familiar - Viktor’s sure he’s seen those blue framed glasses sitting on some side bench at some competition somewhere. He isn’t unattractive either. His black hair and brown eyes contrast with the pale skin of his babyish face. It gives him a look of purity. It’s a nice look. Admittedly, it’s aided by the ample blush on his cheeks and the way he rocks from foot to foot nervously. It’s a very cute habit, Viktor’s always thought.

Victor steps out of his car. Maybe he slams his car door a little louder than normal to make some of the reporters turn their heads, maybe he doesn’t. Regardless, they’re hounding on him in seconds, asking about this jump and that score. He answers all of their questions with a blinding smile, hoping that his glance towards the man goes unnoticed. Well, rather, where the man was. The glass door swings violently and Viktor catches his bag disappearing around a corner.

It takes longer than Viktor would've liked to get rid of the reporters and slip into the rink. His tight routine is now skewed fifteen minutes late. He stretches quickly and laces up his skates as quickly as possible to increase his time on the ice. 

He approaches the entrance gate, one foot already on the ice when something whirrs by him. His gaze is captured by none other than the man who was stood outside. 

Immediately, Viktor becomes enraptured with him. All he's doing is skating around the perimeter of the rink. Somehow, though, the swinging strides of his legs and the way his arms lift ever so slightly from the elbows when he glides paint him in the picture of grace. Viktor can’t help but stare as he completes another circle. Finally, when the man passes him a third time, he turns to look at Viktor. The grey haired man’s cheeks heat up under his unsettled gaze.

“Do you need some-”

Red creeps up the neck of the other man, his eyes widening when he realized who he’s talking to. He spins back around and pushes off even faster than before. 

Viktor steps onto the ice, heart pounding. Fuck. Fuuuck. He internally moans at the increasing awkwardness in the air. Damn his annoying fame and prestige! Here he was, embarrassing himself in front of someone he vaguely remembered who could potentially be important and was definitely attractive. Embarrassing himself just by existing. 

Whatever. He flicks his ankle out, starting a slow circle around the rink. If an onlooker glaneed over, it might look like the other man was chasing him. Though it was practically the other way around, Viktor considered. 

Eventually, Viktor felt warm enough to do some actual exercises. A few combination spins, a few brackets. Nothing obscene. He starts his program once he feels his joints ease into the jumps. 

The feeling isn't the same as the first time he did the program. Victory - it was the theme of his piece. Clearly, it’d gotten him where he wanted the first few times. The thrill of first place was incredible. It inspired him so much, the feeling of winning pushing forth his every movement. It had felt so overwhelmingly good. Now, after his fifth medal, the program didn’t mean much. His publicist had pushed him to do the same program every year, if not with a few major improvements each time.

Regardless of how many new spins or complicated jumps he added, the piece was tired. He was bored of this. There was simply no other way to put it. Even as he landed the perfectly executed triple axle that had been worked into his program, Viktor felt his heart sag.

He ran through the program a few more times, each with decreasing vigor. He didn’t even notice the man skate by him (albeit with a wide berth) and exit the rink. Drenched in sweat and disappointment, Viktor literally laid down on the ice. Maybe it wasn’t the most professional move in the book, but the freezing cold felt good on his hot skin. He hummed and got back to his feet, skating one last cool down lap before exiting and sliding on his blade covers.

He took a cold shower. Unusual, but the weight of the day didn't seem like it could just be melted away. He closed his eyes, letting the freezing water run down his body. It soothes is aching muscles and bones. Technically, the hot alternative would be better at melting away the lactic acid in his muscles. He could have a long soak in the tub when he got home, though - the temporary relief of cold water was more than satisfactory for now. 

He stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his hips. The cool air inside of the building almost felt warm in contrast to Viktor’s cold skin. He pulled on a new shirt and pants.

Viktor was surprised to see the other man slinging his bag over his shoulder. He didn’t appear to see the higher ranking skater, ad he sidled to the door without a second glance. Before he stepped out, though, he turned and froze. 

“I… uh…” he paused and looked up, searching for the right words. “I wanted to thank you for earlier. You know. With the reporters. So, uh. Thanks.”

Before Viktor could pipe back with a cheery ‘no problem’ or ‘the pleasure's all mine, tell me your name and let me take you for a drink in my very expensive sports car,’ the man was gone. Viktor followed suit as fast as he could, but there was no catching the man now. Gone, forever.

[12miraenie]

Pieces

Pairing: Minseok x Reader 

Genre: Angst, Fluff 

Warning: Potential trigger for miscarriage? 

Word Count: 5k+ 

Summary: The mirror is not broken, reflections are still as clear as day. It’s just the way you see yourself that’s changed. 

A/N: Compiled up 2 anon’s request, here it is a long one. Proofread was as always...not done. Enjoy! 💕

✾ Link to Masterlist  

“I’ll tell Nurse Ahn to bring in a cup of tea.”

The screeching sound of a chair being pulled back was followed by you hastily standing up and waving your hand to the doctor. Too distressed to think otherwise, you removed your jacket from the hanger along with your scarf and bowed down.

“Thank you but no, Doctor. I want to take some air.”

You avoided his eyes when you bowed once more and went out of his office. You didn’t need to look in his eyes to know what must be in them. Sorry, pity, sympathy. You didn’t want another to look at you like you are a broken piece of toy, the very thing your parents did when you woke up in a hospital bed.

You climbed the stairs to the roof with much difficulty, feeling like every organ was being lacerated by force with each step. There was a sheen of sweat on your forehead, and your hair was in messy strands around your face. Pushing open the iron door, you were greeted by a strong surge of winter wind. It sent shivers down your body, goosebumps were aligned on top your skin. With small steps, you walked over to the ledge and sat down against the railing. Tears spilled out the moment your body came in contact with the cold, hard ground.

Good thing your parents brought you to a private hospital. The floor was quiet, no busy in and outs or conversations buzzing in the hallway like regular hospitals. It was good nobody saw you running down the hall crying, hair in front of your face looking like a mess. 

You shivered again and pulled your scarf tighter around your neck. If your parents saw you like this, they would take turns to scold you about not taking care of your health, especially since you’ve just come out of a big surgery.

It was supposed to be the first good night for you in three months. After the company project you’ve been working on was completed, you finally got the chance to rest, and your parents came to town to stay with you until Minseok’s done his conference in Japan. It was two hours before the scheduled arrival of your parents. You remember grocery shopping and cooking by yourself in the kitchen, and the next second dizziness came crashing down on you, and you struggled to stand all of a sudden. Before you could hold on to something to stable yourself, you had blacked out.

The next time you opened your eyes, a blur of people were around you, running along and pulling your stretcher in the hospital hallway and someone, probably an EMT shouting words. Most were just buzzings to you, but you still picked up a few.

“Pregnant patient with minor head injury…huge blood loss.” 

The passing fluorescent lights above your head was the last thing you remembered seeing before darkness took over and you lost consciousness.

Did the result surprise you? You couldn’t come up with a definite answer, because you knew something was wrong long before. There were sudden fatigues, dizziness, or pain in your stomach region that you couldn’t pinpoint what the exact problem was. Busy with work back then, you blamed in on stress and lack of sleep and didn’t bother paying the doctors a visit. When you woke up in the hospital and talked to Doctor Kim, he opened the report and showed you what you had. 

Severe anemia with iron deficiency.

The chance of miscarriage went up a lot because of your inherent problems, and you remembered his next words clearly, “This complication…is not something to be treated lightly. Because you were found and sent here an hour after the blackout, and the anemia symptoms started showing in the early stage of your pregnancy…Y/N, I think it would be unlikely for you to be pregnant again. I’m sorry.”

You clutched the railings tight in your hands, the coldness seeping into your palm fought off the nauseating feeling in your stomach and the bitterness of the bile coming from the back of your throat. It’s impossible for you to think that you were to blame for your own child’s death. How can you take that in lightly? To think that you killed a life. A baby that belongs to you and Minseok.

Oh god.

Your eyes shut tight like a reflex at the thought of Minseok. The last time you called him was a little before the accident at home, you guessed that he’s probably aware of what happened by now. Your parents are not exactly good secret keepers. You bit your lips as a sharp drop of tear escaped your eyes. You can’t even imagine what the kind of look in his eyes would be. Absolute devastation, probably. And when he learns the truth? When he finally realizes that the reason a your-his child’s gone was because of you? What would he think then?

You buried your face in both hands and sniffled. The cold wind left a stinging sensation when air went up your nostrils and more tears came out of your eyes. You didn’t want to see Minseok now, you are not physically and emotionally prepared.

You can’t even look him in the eyes. 

                                     Freshly showered and dressed in a robe, you snuggled up in two extra thick blankets and leaned your back on soft cushions on the uncomfortable hospital bed. You couldn’t even turn around without hitting the side. On the table next to you was the food your parents bought. They even got the fried shrimp from the food stand in Hongdae that people line up half an hour for. Your parents are not usually keen on breaking the supposedly “strict” rule that you have to eat according to doctor’s orders, they probably did all those to cheer you up.

Flicking the remote, you opened the TV and switched to a random drama. Scooting a bit down to a more comfortable position, you leaned your head on the headboard. An IV was still attached to your right hand, tracing your head up, you focused mindlessly on what you read 9% Normal Saline dripping down in a slow pace on the metal hanger.

You hated it. The needle has never left your hand since you woke up. You hated the hospital smell, the never changing menu of hospital food. You hated the way nurses look at you whenever they come in for check-ups. You hated the way your mom canceled her plans to visit her best friend in Europe and your dad dropping everything at work to stay at the hospital all day long. Every time you told them that you are okay, that whatever happened is in the past, they don’t believe you.

It took you one temper tantrum and two hours of explanations to get your parents to agree to only visit you during visiting hours and go home to sleep. They have been here for 50 or more hours and didn’t get one second of closed eyes. You were mentally drained by the time they said goodbye and closed the door behind them. 

You can’t do it all by yourself.

It reminded you how much you miss Minseok. How much easier things would be if he’s here. Your mind went back to the previous times you were hospitalized. He is always the more thoughtful one, bringing you hot packs, reminding you to eat medicine, and holding your hand when you did blood tests and got injections.  Your heart almost leaped out of your chest when your parents told you that he is on the plane back here, but your thoughts are over the place, and you are not sure if seeing Minseok would be a good idea for now.

Taking a sip of the water, you grimaced at its lukewarm taste. You turned your attention back to the TV and pressed down the remote to change channels again. The drama on screen was a sad one, and sadness wasn’t really something you were looking for at the moment. Turning up the volume, you tried to immerse yourself into a variety show you always loved. But somehow it’s hard to even lift the corner of your lips at the show that still gets you laughing until your stomach hurt.

Maybe the sound of the TV was too loud because when the door to your room was slid open harshly, you didn’t expect to see a panting Minseok with the nurse in attendance hot on his trail.

“Sir, visiting hours are over-“

She stopped talking when she saw you were still up. 

“Hey, Soojin, this is my husband over there. Could you please maybe…give us a few minutes?” 

The nurse you’ve grown to be friends with bit her lips before sighing eventually.

“Ok, ten minutes. It’s already against protocol.”

“Thank you, Soojin.” 

She gave you a soft smile and closed the door behind her.

Minseok was frozen on the spot during the whole interaction between you and Soojin. He stayed motionless, the warm brown cashmere coat was still draped over his arms, the luggage tag still intact on his bag, and he was wearing the exact same clothes he packed for the conference. Minseok fixed his eyes on you. You were not one bit prepared to let him see you like this. Too sudden. 

For a while, you just stared at each other. Him standing near the door and you leaning on pillows with barely enough energy to move. Then all of a sudden you burst into tears.

You were scooped into his arms the next second. Minseok’s hold on you was tight, tight enough to squeeze your ribs into one piece. The hospital gown was extremely flimsy, you shivered when your face came in contact with his coat. But it didn’t matter at all. You relished in his body heat and allowed yourself to finally let your guard down once. Surrounded by Minseok’s familiar scent, you convinced yourself that everything’s better now. Nothing else matters because he is here.

Minseok patted your back in a slow, steady pattern until your full sobs quieted down to bare whimpers. The bed dipped when he sat on the edge, and you felt his hands carefully moving the plastic tubing away before finding yours and intertwined your fingers together. His cold hands against your warm ones, but you’ve never felt better.

“Don’t cry. I’m here now.”  

Minseok’s voice came out deep and raspy, and it only spurred you to clutch onto him tighter. As a matter of fact, Minseok really is your only savior, the only person you can hang on for dear life when everything comes down. He has been right beside you for better or for worse. Somehow at the moment your mind went back to your wedding vows when Minseok held your hand in his and said the words “I do.” while staring at you with enough determination and confidence to turn the sun around. You might be biased, but no one is better than Minseok as a husband.

You pulled away from each other, but Minseok didn’t let go of your hands. It was only then you really took in each other. His normally neatly styled hair was messy, strands falling out in different direction. There seemed to be a tension between his eyebrows, you can’t tell if they are creased or not. You moved your eyes from his bloodshot, slightly puffed eyes to the dark circles, and to his chapped lips that were pursed in a straight line.

“Min…”

You addressed him for the first time, there was a fragile edge to your voice that caused Minseok to frown and look at you concerningly. It was hard enough to say those words yourself already, and Minseok’s stare was making it harder. The thought in your head that you were trying so hard to get rid of resurfaced the second he walked in your room, and even though you tried to convince yourself otherwise, it’s not going anywhere. Not even after probably a thousand repetitions of you didn’t do this. 

It’s not your fault.

“I…I lost our child.”  

Once again, you buried yourself in his warmth as if it helps to keep you warm. But the cold, hard feeling from the bottom of your spine could hardly be ignored, and even you were wrapped in Minseok’s arms with a pool of blankets around you, you can’t help thinking about it. How it is your fault, and you killed your child.

“No.” Putting the finger on your lips, Minseok cut you off and shook his head, “Please don’t do this. Not now. I didn’t wait a whole day in Osaka airport for the first flight back here to listen to you blaming yourself. I’m here now. You haven’t lost me.”

You nodded, his tone believable enough for you to relax and focus on him instead. Minseok took off his coat and shoes and ran a hand through his hair.

“Sleep. It’s already late. I’ll stay here.“

His words triggered the underlying tiredness that took over your body in one second. The next thing you know, your eyes are closing, your brain is shutting down, and soon your head hit the pillow. Vaguely you remembered Minseok pulling up the blankets over your body and making sure you were comfortable.

The last thing you remembered was a kiss on your forehead before everything went black.

                                           “What about that art show? You told me before that you wanted to go there.”

Not hearing a word from you, Minseok looked up from his laptop and frowned. You were staring at the front absently, only paying a sliver of attention on him or whatever he’s been talking about for the past ten minutes. He sighed loudly and shut the lid closed.

“Y/N?”

This time his voice got louder. “Hey, Y/N?”  

You snapped your head up when Minseok called you the third time, returning from your train of thoughts. It worried Minseok quite a lot now, ever since you recovered you would go into these trances and just blankly staring into space and not paying attention to anything. At first, he thought it was just the side effect of the medicine you ate, but as time passed, it has gotten worse. Increasingly Minseok felt that you have been distancing yourself from him, almost like you did it on purpose. He’s confused and a little angry.

He’s been trying everything to make you happy. You smiled less, went out less, and spoke less. You chose to stay behind the closed doors of your bedroom at home, and even if you are out with him, you don’t seem happy. Heck, Minseok can’t even remember the last time you really had a conversation together.

“Ok. You need to tell me what the problem is. I can’t do this on my own.”

You frowned, eyebrows slightly arched as you turned your attention to him and blinked slowly.

“Do what?“

Minseok sighed, exasperated breath leaving his mouth. “Are you serious? Do you not know the problem? I mean, shouldn’t you know the best if you are the one treating your spouse like a stranger?”

You tugged on the corner of your mouth, letting out a huff. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Min.” You shook your head and leaned down to take a sip of your water. This seemed to agitate Minseok more because he became apparently more aggravated, and louder.

“Really? I know you said you wanted space, but it’s been three months already! And I am tired of my wife distancing herself from me? I am your husband for god’s sake! You should be able to tell me everything!”

“It’s not about the...the accident-” You gulped, still unable to say the word out loud. The mug thudded against the table when you tried to make eye contact with him under the dim kitchen light, but Minseok turned away before you could do so.

“See, this is exactly where the problem is. You still can’t face it, Y/N. How can you get over it if you can’t even admit you had a misc-“

“Stop! Ok? Look, I don’t know what’s with you tonight, Min. Trust me. It’s not about that.” Your fingers clicked the table top with each word. You were getting irritated as well. You admit you were different than before, but he shouldn’t have the audacity to accuse you of not paying him enough attention when something as heartbreaking as losing a child happened to you. Not just your body, your emotions too.

“Trust you? Ok, if this isn’t the problem, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong.“ Minseok threw his hands up in the air and huffed. He pushed through his hair and stared at you dead in the eye, “Are you having an affair? Cheating on me?”  

You were already on the brink of losing control, and when he said that you just snapped. 

“You know what? I never thought you were such an attention seeker before. My world doesn’t go around you, ok? So what if I am cheating? Huh?”

You stood up, anger already burning in full scale. “How can you ask me to move on when I lost a baby-our child from my body? Do you even understand that feeling when you wake up and suddenly can’t feel that extra weight, that extra heart beating inside? You don’t fucking understand, Minseok.”

He went silent for a while and took a position of leaning against the counter.

“You could have talked, communicated with me about everything. You should have done all that to get it off your chest. I don’t know what you are so reluctant to do that.” He shook his head in disappointment. 

Blind anger and hurt drowned out your logic at the moment when you blurted out, “If this is what you think, if you can’t even understand me this much, then we shouldn’t be together anymore.”

You turned around abruptly to your bedroom and slammed the door behind you, leaving Minseok standing in the kitchen. Tears flowed out the moment you squeezed your eyes shut and leaned against the door. Your hands were clutching the door handle so tight trying not to let your emotions go to overdrive.

No sound was made from the outside. After taking a few deep breaths and hastily wiping away your tears, you walked to the closet and pulled out a suitcase and started throwing everything in. You had no time to fill half of it before the door burst open, revealing a Minseok in obvious distress, who froze when he saw the suitcase.

All sense of anger was gone in his eyes, and panic took over his features.

“What are you doing?“

A humorless laugh escaped your mouth as you threw another article of clothing in. “Can’t you see? What else is packing for then?“

Minseok reached you in three long strides and took hold of your arm. “No, you are not going anywhere. I won’t let you.”  

His eyes were clouded with frustration, but the panic and anxiety behind his eyes were not exactly concealed in plain sight. His hold on you was strong, but not enough to make you hurt. It almost felt like he’s pleading, holding on to you like he depended on it.

“You can’t leave me like this, Y/N. I can’t-I won’t lose you too.”

Tears that threatened to come out of your eyes didn’t make it before you masked your emotions behind an emotionless face. You shook your arm away from his hold and turned sideways to zip up your suitcase. God it hurt when you looked at him from under your lashes and breathed out, “You can’t do anything if I want to leave, Minseok. You can’t hold me here.”

Minseok dropped his arm and looked down dejectedly. He didn’t look once as you shrugged on a jacket and tugged your suitcase past him into the living room and eventually out of the door.

“Oh god, what have I done?“

                                        Minseok pushed his body up and reached over to his phone reluctantly. His head hurt like hell, and he cursed under his breath when he squinted at the screen. Who the heck calls at 2 in the morning?

His mind got clearer when he recognized the caller ID almost immediately. It belongs to one of your friends, he remembered you telling him that you went to college and took the same history class. He frowned, why would she call him right now?

“Hello?”

He pulled his phone away from his ear immediately. The other end was too loud, hurting his eardrums with what sounded like base and synth music only a nightclub would play. Before he can say anything else, a voice made him sat up instantly.

“Seokie. Minseokie. Why aren’t you here already? They have the best club music here, and the DJ is so hot.” 

A string of giggles and laughs followed suit, and although Minseok can’t help furrow his eyebrows when you mentioned the DJ, he cared more about something else. Like where you are, or what the fuck you are doing in a club.

“What are you do-Just tell me where you are, ok? Are you in a club?” Minseok put his phone closer despite how much his ears hurt from all the noise. You were definitely drunk, slurring all your words and making it hard for him to know what you are talking about.

“Hello? Y/N?”

Minseok threw away his blanket and hurried to put some clothes on.

“Hey! Y/N, are you there?”

After some shufflings on the other end, Minseok was greeted with your friend’s voice. “Minseok? Is it you?”

He had no time for pleasantries and cut straight to the topic, “Where is she? Just give me an address.”

                                         The loud pumping bass made Minseok frown. He has always hated clubs, hated the skyrocketed amount of alcohol people consume there, hated the barely dressed girls who press onto random people, and hated whatever goes on in the hallways or behind doors.

He squeezed through a mountain of people before he could see the bar clearly. Although it was 2 am, people seemed to be having the time of their lives in the club. Minseok saw your friend almost immediately, standing at the end of the bar looking at her phone. As he got closer, he spotted you too. Although you had your head down leaning on the bar counter, he couldn’t have mistaken you for anybody else.

Minseok grabbed your shoulders gently and put an arm around you protectively. Your friend looked up to find him, and a relieved expression took over her features. She shouted over the music, “I’m sorry, she wanted to destress, and I couldn’t stop her, so I had to follow her here to make sure she’s alright. She only drank and never left the bar.”

Minseok nodded curtly when you stirred in his arms. You got up from the bar stool and staggered before turning around and looked him fully in the eye.

“Seokie! You are here!” You said in an artificially high voice, making Minseok frown. It was so obvious that you drank, and by the look of it, you drank more than one shot.

“You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you? How much?” The last question was directed to your friend, who shrugged and tugged her lips.

“I told her to stop after the third one, but I don’t know, she thrashed around. I didn’t want her to cause a scene.“

Minseok put both hands on your shoulder securely, “Come on, you are leaving right now.”

You giggled and snaked your arms around his waist. Pulling him closer, you tiptoed and whispered in his ear, “Come on, Seokie. Dance with me.”

Minseok’s stare only hardened. He removed your arms from him and gave you a stern look.

“No. I’m taking you home.“

Strangely, you stopped protesting on the way out. Minseok made a path in the crowd and had one arm out to shield you from bumping into other people. You shivered from the chilly wind and Minseok shrugged off his jacket to drape it over your shoulders.

He helped you get in and buckled your seatbelt when you stared at him wordlessly, with something unreadable glossed over your eyes. He wasn’t sure if you were conscious enough to know what’s going on, but you didn’t even blink looking at him. You leaned on the passenger seat when Minseok started the engine.

“When was the last time we had fun together? Like real fun? So strange, I can remember you doing the same thing picking me up from a party in college. Whose was it? Chanyeol? Jongin? I can’t remember.” 

You turned your head sideways and looked at Minseok’s side profile. Your cute pout and drunken babblings would have a different effect on him otherwise, but both of his hands were gripping on the steering wheel and no visible emotion was shown on his face. He seemed to be paying full attention to the road, without even casting an eye to you. 

“You are no fun when you are Minseok. I missed Seokie…but it doesn’t matter. When I’m with you, I am happy. Really happy.” You dragged the last word longer on your tongue and pouted. Crossing your arms in front of you, you leaned even closer to him. The seatbelt was straining your actions, and you hissed when it slid across your collarbones roughly. A redlight happened at the same time, Minseok hit the pedal when you fell back to the car seat. 

You giggled and reached one hand over to touch his arm. “Oh, I didn’t know you can be this blunt, Seokie. And rough…but I like it.”

Minseok sighed out loud and grabbed your hand to put it back in your lap. In normal circumstances, he would laugh and roll his eyes at your not so subtle at all flirting, but other things were occupying the entirety of his mind at the moment. Like the fact you turned up in a club utterly wasted, like how you didn’t contact him after leaving for 2 weeks, like what exactly went wrong between you two. 

                                                  You woke up knowing it was the worst morning you’ve ever had in a long time, worse than the time you went out for cocktail tasting with Minseok. Your head felt like it’s been pounded repeatedly by an iron hammer, and your limbs were beyond your body’s control. You groaned at the sunlight hitting your face and turned sideways, unexpectedly hitting something warm. You stiffened and opened one eye, squinting at what’s in front of you. Everything was too bright, but unmistakenly you were inches away from a person. Your eyes widened the moment you tried to piece everything together. Did something happen last night? You tried hard to recall any event from last night, but your mind was of a useless haziness. You jolted up immediately despite how much more your head hurt at the movement. Rubbing your eyes furiously, you tried to process what exactly was going on, before coming face to face with Minseok still lying down on the bed but staring at you with his eyes.

You breathed out loud in relief when you realized it was just Minseok and brushed your hair back. It was hard, not to say awkward, to even maintain eye contact with him after you left that night. You shifted a little further away and leaned your head against the headboard.

“We need to talk.“

Minseok threw the cover off and walked away, leaving his back facing you as he went out of the bedroom. He returned with two tablets and a glass of water, and you took them over gingerly. You gulped down the whole glass hungrily and placed the empty glass on the bedstand.

“Why?”

You didn’t need him to explain further to understand. He was asking you why you left. But how could you tell him? How could you tell him that you can no longer be pregnant? You looked at Minseok once again and took in the sullen look on his face.

He was no better than you in the past two weeks.

You bit down on your lips and took a deep breath, deciding the tell him the truth. He deserves that, more than anyone else.

“It’s not only a miscarriage, Minseok. I…we can never have a baby again.”  

The big moment where Minseok gets all disappointed, angry and slams the door and leave didn’t play out according to your script. He was still in the same position, didn’t even bat an eyelash when you revealed the truth. You frowned, this is not the reaction he should have right now.

“Do you honestly think I don’t know?“ Minseok crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, “Y/N, your parents told me the moment I got to the hospital.”

You were at a loss for words. So he knew it from the beginning. All of your stresses, pent-up frustrations and worries were for nothing?

“I didn’t know you put that little faith in me, Y/N. You really thought I would leave you for that?”

“But…” You know how much he loves kids. From day 1 of your relationship, you knew Minseok is an absolute fan of children. So are you. As you all grew older and got married, Minseok would gush over newborn kids from either your friends or his. You were 100% sure that one day you two would have a little life cradled in your arms too. Not being able to have a kid would devastate Minseok, you were sure of that. He could have a way better life without you now.

“Why me? Why didn’t you leave?”

“I didn’t marry you because of other reasons. I married you because you are you and because you’ve shown me what love can feel like. No other person can do that.”

Minseok sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled you into his arms, tight enough for you to feel every curve of his muscle under his t-shirt. Close enough for you to hear his every heartbeat.

“You are the one, Mrs. Kim. I should have never let you out that door that night, and I’m never letting you go again.”

[osmw1]

Head Over Heels from the Scarf I Lent Her  Chapter 5—The Warm Sun, and Lunch

“So? What happened afterwards?” “What are you on about all of a sudden?”

Ōyodo Jun—my classmate who sits in front of me—leans his arm on the back of his chair and turns to me. It isn’t unusual for Jun to start rambling about something incomprehensible, but it sounds awfully as if he’s talking about Satsuki. She’s a total lifesaver for cleaning Tooru’s room. Jun lets out a dirty smirk and looks at Tooru.

“Something had to had happened, right? She’s totally fallen for you.” “What, do you think I’ve got the balls to do anything to a girl as cute as her?” “… you’re being serious. Well, I guess not.”

For some reason, Jun dejectedly pouts as he shifts his arm from the seatback to Tooru’s desk.

“What a letdown, man. You gotta get better stories to tell.” “Why do I have to make sacrifices just to amuse you?” “That’s the way how things work. Hurry up and get a girl.” “Ow, cut it out.”

Tooru pushes Jun away, who was smacking him on his head, and then places his elbows on his desk too.

“First of all, you don’t have a girlfriend either. You better check yourself first.” “Gah! Straight through the heart! You don’t mince words, do you?”

Ignoring his exaggerated reaction, Tooru instead overhears the conversation of another group.

“Didja hear about Miyamoto Amane’s little sister?” “Yeah, dude. They she’s a total babe, unlike Amane. Go hit her up.” “You crazy? I’m not about to poke the bear, thank you very much.”

Already famous on the second day of school, eh? Well, she was well-known to begin with anyway, so no surprise there. Seems like everyone is so scared of Amane that no one is willing to get close to Satsuki. That was Tooru’s plan too, but somehow things ended up this way.

Luckily, Amane is another class so Tooru hasn’t got mixed up in her business at all. Unlike Satsuki, there’s not much noteworthy about how Amane looks, save for her chest. She’s probably number one in school in that aspect. It’s a mystery what she thinks about her younger sister, but Tooru isn’t about to march up to her and ask. And why does Satsuki look so down as well? It’s gotta have something to do with her family, but she didn’t seem like she wanted to talk about it. As he’s just her acquaintance, Tooru can only remain an outsider—whether for her sake or his own. Seems like Jun has overheard the other group too. Still sitting backwards on his chair, he faces Tooru.

“Must be tough then.” “It’s not too bad. We’re gonna be going home separately.” “Huh? You two are planning to meet every day?” “Ah…”

Tooru had dug his own grave and Jun has a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You’ve finally showed your true colors.” “It’s not like I’ve done any—” “Shut up! And treat me to something with your paycheck!” “What?! Why do I have to?!”

Tooru dodges Jun’s attacks and then sits back, spacing out. Satsuki’s face pops into his mind. They’re friends or something or other now, right? She’s not alone anymore like that winter day, right? His daydreams are cut short by the bell.

  Tooru always eats lunch at the same place—a sunny spot behind the school. It’s his daily routine to sit on the concrete outside of an unused classroom on the first floor. And of course, if it’s raining or snowing, he’d eat lunch inside instead.

But today, the warm spring air lulls the sandman. To have lunch while basking in the sun was Tooru’s thing and this is his place. Or was. He spots a familiar figure and waves.

“Hey, Miyamoto. Fancy meeting you here.” “Wha—?!”

Satsuki was sitting there about to open her lunch box. Her face is bright red like she was taken by complete surprise. After making sure not a single other soul was around, Tooru sits down next to Satsuki, leaving but a little room between them. On the other hand, perhaps still surprised, her face was still flushed red.

Sitting side by side again, Satsuki is small. She’s probably not even 160 cm tall. On the other hand, Tooru passed the 180 cm mark already. Sure, the average height of high schoolers is going higher and higher, but Tooru himself didn’t even think he’d grow this much.

That’s why it was natural for him to be able to look at what she has for lunch. Wieners cut into the shape of octopuses, omelette, and veggie stir-fry with a small portion of white rice. You could even say that this is the traditional Japanese packed lunch. On the other hand, Tooru’s lunch was fried chicken from the freezer section and rice. He had just had an earful from Jun, saying how he’s soon going to get fat. So, Tooru retaliated with a punch.

“Your lunch sure looks good.” “Oh, you think so?” “I’ve only got some previously-frozen chicken and rice. Probably isn’t doing my body any good.” “That’s true…”

Though he would’ve preferred her saying otherwise, Tooru relaxed after seeing Satsuki strain a laugh. He’s not sure what to make of it, but Satsuki suddenly waving her hands around.

“Umm, I would still like you even if you get a little chubbier too, though!” “Et tu, Satsuki?”

Tooru was at a loss as he opened his lunch box. Is that my future? I’m destined to be overweight? But even then, he’s busy in the morning getting ready for school and busy at night studying. He just wants to keep his grades up is all.

Still, how scary it would be to get fat before graduating. Like, actually. Not wanting him to feel down, the seemingly flustered Satsuki gives him a little fist pump.

“It’s okay. If you’re worried about it, then I’ll help you out!”

Satsuki bursts out with absolute energy. He had been hanging his head down but looks up at the girl so full of enthusiasm and responds like a burnt-out boxer.

“Support? What kind of support?” “How about making you both lunch and dinner?!” “Huh?!”

Of course, he was shocked. Not only is Satsuki bound to be busy in the morning, but wouldn’t she be like his mom packing him a lunch? He hesitates to put such a burden on her.

“No way I can do that to you…” “It would not be a big deal. If anything, it’s hard to cook just one portion, you know?”

He could only nod back. It doesn’t seem like she’s even half-joking. Tooru isn’t familiar with cooking enough to have a sense for that, but it sounds plausible.

And this would be good for his health too. Tooru could avoid the whole getting fat thing. However, he couldn’t just ask for this favor all of a sudden; it’s a lot more time and effort. Isn’t there something he could think of? Satsuki looks up at the thinking Tooru. Her youthfulness really felt like as if she were his younger sister. He’s seriously contemplating ideas, but still almost reached out to pat her head.

Needless to say, though, Tooru had neither the guts nor the feelings for her. He shakes the thought off and keeps thinking. And then, an idea, though a trivial one.

“In that case, I’ll pay you for each lunch.” “But, you’re…” “You’ll be using your own ingredients, right? It’d only be right for me to pay for my share.”

Satsuki looked like she wanted to say something, but she lets out a small breath and nods with a smile.

“Okay then, if you’re fine with that.” “Alright, it’s a plan. Thank you, Madam Miyamoto, for saving me from obesity.” “You’re exaggerating… and call me like you normally do.”

Satsuki waves her hand as if she were a little embarrassed, making him want to protect her even more. Even if she might be feeling down from her home situation, it doesn’t seem like it’s such a big deal to her.

“Anyway, shall we eat? Lunchtime is almost over.” “You’re right. I salute you, frozen food. You have served me well.” “Frozen food sure is handy.”

Tooru responds with a quipping laugh as Satsuki teases him. And then, once again, he looks at her lunch. It looked good the first time he looked, and it still looks good now. He’d love to try a bite. Seeing through him, Satsuki grabs a piece of omelette with her chopsticks and looks up at him. Her hair flows to the other shoulder.

“Want some? A taste-test.” “Uhh, you sure?” “Of course. Consider it research to see what you like.”

Oh, thank you so much. Even Tooru was doubting whether his chicken was enough for lunch.

“Oh, you don’t have to feed me it… it’s a little embarrassing.” “Oh, really?” “Aren’t you…? Anyway, you can just put it in my container and I’ll eat it myself.”

Satsuki’s face turns bright red again after hearing what he said. Then, she silently puts the egg on top of his food. So, it wasn’t on purpose yesterday after all. Tooru then looks down at the omelette.

It looks well-made and smells slightly sweet. There’s no way it won’t taste good. He opens his mouth and stuff his cheeks with the omelette. Tooru looks over to his side to find Satsuki with a nervous look on her face.

His eyes open wide.

Delicious. It’s perfectly seasoned with both salt and sugar. There’s even slight undertones of broth to it. Tooru has never had an omelette this tasty before. It’s even better than his mother’s.

“Miyamoto, this is amazing.”

He tells her with his mouth full of food and Satsuki chastises him for being improper. The tension had been completely cut and she relaxes her shoulders.

“Thank you. I’m so glad you like it.”

Her smile is as dazzling as always. Tooru didn’t think she could smile this brightly at first, but now he knows better. Swallowing his food revealed a light aftertaste of sweetness and broth. She’s even accounted for aftertaste.

“I’ve got great hopes for tomorrow’s lunch now.” “Look forward to it, okay?”

Their time together was soft and comfortable, if over too soon.

contents: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /next/

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[pbandjesse]

I am laying in James's new apartment! I helped him move around furniture and decorate the space a bit. We hung things up and tried to maximise the space and its very comfy in here. It's really nice.

I did not get any sleep last night. I was able to fall asleep at like 1 but I was up again at 215 and never actually fell back asleep. I was very keyed up with all my feelings about the job. And I think I am going to edit it a little more, tone down my emotions, and step away. I know it sounds reckless but I need the push for new work. Just like I had to do with my restoration job. This is just for the best.

At 5am I got up and went to get the water ready for oatmeal and start the day. I cooked all the bacon. A plate got dropped and smashed. Which was distressing but we handled it.

Breakfast went well and I lead the gun drill. I was nervous but Jordan said I did well. The firing was excellent. We got some really sweet reviews and a $20 tip each, which is the biggest ive gotten and felt awesome. I really liked this group.

We finished up with them. Cleaned and cleaned and cleaned. I told Nick and Libby my feelings and they supported me. So i keep moving forward. I was for sure full of a bit of manic energy from the whole not sleeping thing. But we finished everything and i only sort of hurt myself going down the stairs.

Once me and jordan got the carts over to taney he released me and i went home. I had to run to catch the bus but i made it and got home before 1030.

I showered and changed. Made an omelet. And went to sleep for a few hours. And it was good sleep.

I got up at 130 and got dressed for the ballgame. James came and met me. And we headed out.

We had some trouble because he lost the tickets in the move. But they are season ticket holders so after tlaking to a frw peolle we were able to get them reprinted and it was all good. There was a couple minutes when he thought he wohld have to buy us new tickets. But we were all good.

It was a good game. We got frww duffle bags. Which are really nice actually and i like then a lot. James got hotdogs for himself and a vegan dog for me. We shared cheese fries and a sprite. He quized me on positions and I made faces at a baby. I was very sleepy and laid my head on him most of the game. I was very tired.

It was an emotional game because number 10, Adam Jones, is leaving the team. I think. Hes becoming a free agent so he is moving on. James got a little misty. This is like the last hero of the team for him. The last older person. So he got a little teary when we moved down to the flag court at the end of the game. I was very tired. And just hugged him the whole time.

But we won. Last game of the Orioles season. And it was exciting to see a winning game.

We walked up to my place. I used my new duffle bag and packed up to go to James's. We tried to get milkshakes but they were out of the flavor I wanted. So he got a milkshake and i bought ice cream and when we got back to his place he made me a milkshake. Cause hes a very good boyfriend.

We move arpund the furniture. He let mw play interior designer. Tried to maximize the space. We hung up art and it was a lot of fun. And now were watching videos and probably going to sleep soon.

I work at the museum tonorrow. I think just giving tours but I will check. I think it will be a good day even if its going to be to hot out.

Sleep well everyone. Goodnight!

[aestheticvoyage2018]

Day 256: Thursday September 13, 2018 (Fri in AUS) - “Bush Tucker”

With a flight arriving at 630am, I had a whole good day to explore this city, Sydney - a place that known for a life, but now would come to life for me.  Id passed on deep level research and planning aside from an episode of No Reservations - the future was unwritten.  After taking a few hours in the airport to catch up on my work for the day, I caught the public transit train downtown, successfully navigating without activating my phone - a trick Im always proud of.  By 1030am, I strolled out onto George St in the city center, and found my way to the nights hotel - The Westin - a beautiful old building that I learned was the General Post Office building of Sydney dating back to the 1860s - wiki here.  Score.   I walked in just hoping theyd watch my bag for a bit while I explored, but they got me a room straightaway, and to my luck it was a 4th floor room looking into the inner atrium.  My luck really couldnt have been better.   I took a comfort break, a bath in the best tub Ive had in years, then set out to the streets for an afternoon walkabout.

My first stop of the day was to take Pyrmount Bridge across Darling Harbor.  It doesnt take long to get a feel for a place while walking the streets and seeing the faces.   Its a beautiful day, sunny and 70 in late Spring here in Australia. Moving beyond Darling Harbor, I went looking for the Sydney Fish Market - seafood was on tap for lunch.   Sydney’s Fish Market, is the 3rd Largest in the world - curious what was bigger, I was surprised that Tokyo was #1....but #2?  Mexico City.  What?!    Ok.   Seattle’s wasnt in the top 10.  So this ought to be good.  And it was - lots of great places to choose from.   I walked the place looking for one that would cook my catch and settled on a place that had a variety box for $15.  Add a coke for $4.50.   I took it outside along the harbor to enjoy - hadnt considered that there would be a band of bandit birds out there hoping to have some of my catch - I mean afterall, there was plenty in there to go around right?   I enjoyed several baby octopus, a filet of Flake, the rest I couldnt exactly name - these great big onion ring shaped treats that mustve been like calamari or squid, these balls that tasted very fishy and reminded me of a snack id had in Korea, fried seaweed.  By the time Id gotten down to the fries, and hadnt shared, the birds around me got increasingly annoyed.  A big scary looking bird that I later identified as a White Ibis, or what the locals call a bin chicken/trash turkey, had been eyeing me.  I decided that if he went for it, Id take a swing - but when the moment came, I chickened out.  He got some fries straight out of the box.  That was enough for me - tummy full, I hit the road!

Walking back I looked a pub to slip into.  Id noticed that most watering holes seemed to be coupled with a hostel/inn on street corners.  And all looked to be 100+ years old.   I spotted a perfect one across the street - the Pegged Leg.  The kind of place that youd have to turn sideways to get in the door.  It didnt disappoint.   I got two pints for about $20 of the local beer as the bartender shared knowledge on the local gin craft, the people on the money, and the staff entertained with genuine argument over how to manage the hotel via expedia.  I guess these gents had just taken over and were ironing out the kinks.  I enjoyed the wifi to plan my next move.   The beer was good and very cold, but man its expensive here!   I guess thats one way to make sure a visiting Yankee wont get drunk in your streets!   They seemed to enjoy me as much as I enjoyed them and so I parted with my Aussie money and hit the sidewalk.

Being so far south, and just now coming into Spring, the sun was set to set early and so I hoofed it to my intended spot to look back at Sydney to the West - itd be a good 1.5 mile walk but I had just the right amount of time.  Took me righ tback through the heart of the city, past my hotel, and on up past the Art Museum of New South Wales, the Sydney Hospital, and across a big open green space called The Domain.  Thanks again to that offline app Maps.me - made my way without activating my phone perfectly - a pocket sized guidebook.   I entered into the Royal Botanical Gardens and was happy to find that I could cut through that for free.  What a beautiful free park!   Unexpected detours.  Weaved through the flowering plants, the big trees, the loud birds to come out at Sydney Harbor where the first time I saw that unforgettable landmark that we associate with this place, the Opera House and the equally recognizable landmark, the Sydney Harbor Bridge behind, with the two Australian flags flying brightly above in the pink light of sunset.  Id made it just in time - and the line of observers along the waterfront told me I was in the right place.   I walked out to the very end and up the stairs to find the perfect spot - the one you always see on NYE.   This to me, is the joy of travel - finding the place that you’ve seen before, and then knowing it for yourself in that 360 perspective kind of way..... to know its look, its smells, its people, its place in the world.   Its a point called Mrs. Macquarie’s Chair.  Found it, just as the light went out of the sky.  A rock there had an inscription in it that oddly shaped text read: 

Be it thus Recorded that the Road

Round the inside of the Government Domain Called

Mrs. Macquarie's Road

So named by the Governor on account of her having OriginallyPlanned it Measuring 3 Miles, and 377 Yards

Was finally Completed on the 13

th

Day ofJune 1816

Well thats puts you in place of history.   Behind me, the navy shipyard held Australian navy boats including an oddly shaped aircraft carrier.  Old looking fleet, with a up-class wharf.  I walked that way - dinner time now already.  And I had a hot spot from Tony B on my radar.

The gospel according to Bourdain. If Tony says its a must, then I mustn't let my dead friend down.   I walked down past the navy shipyard and fancy wharfs and upscale pubs to find a landmark - Harry’s Cafe de Wheels.  heres some history on the place.  I suppose of Australian Cuisine, the meat pie is considered the quintessential, and Harry’s makes the landmark Meat Pie.  Made popular with the navy men, this particular place serves up something called The Tiger - a meat pie with a scoop of mash, a scoop of peas-mash, and a scoop of gravy.  I was visiting the Woolloomooloo location and I sheepishly walked up to the counter next to a guy woofing one down while he stood right there where hed ordered it.  The walls were covered with photos of famous people whod eaten there - Blue Hill style.  I wondered if they would want my picture if I told them I was Joe Rogan.   Seconds after asking about a Tiger, one was in front of me.  I picked it up with reverence, curious about the bright green pea mash.  Never eaten such a thing - this didnt make a whole lot of sense.  But I took it around the corner to a stool on the side in front of an old picture of Elton John wolfing one in, showing me the way and explored the wonder.   It was actually pretty good - all your side stacked on your meat pie so that you can eat it all at once.  Tony was right -that was a must.   Put a check on the Aussie Food checklist.  Oi Oi.  One down.   

Walked back to my hotel and finally crashed hard!  This time travel thing, and the shifting time zones, I hope I handle it better than when I was in the Philippines.  Got a couple days here to adjust and I enjoyed my plan of getting here nice and early to take some time before getting to work.  Friday in AUS was in the books and it was a long one but I felt like Id been productive with my time and enjoyed the blessing of being in the land down under.

Song: Men At Work - Down Under

Quote: “The people are immensely likable— cheerful, extrovert, quick-witted, and unfailingly obliging. Their cities are safe and clean and nearly always built on water. They have a society that is prosperous, well ordered, and instinctively egalitarian. The food is excellent. The beer is cold. The sun nearly always shines. There is coffee on every corner. Life doesn't get much better than this.” ― Bill Bryson, In a Sunburned Country