#since we didn’t get chicken yesterday lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yoonpobs · 4 years ago

Text

bad boy good thing x.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 8, 711

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

so here is the mini monster chap !! i know I said this was going to be a drabble series but I clearly got carried away LOL

anyways, no spoilers for this chap but I can say it's one of my favs that I've written and I think we see oc getting the comfort that she deserves (and needs!)

and also !! this is my first time updating a series on tumblr and it feels *exciting* hehe, I hope you enjoy this chapter c:

let me know your thoughts in my asks!! i'd love to hear what you think so far :3

all the love and I hope you're having a great

day/night/evening/afternoon wherever you are ❤️

“Open up!”

The only person that would opt to yell to get your attention than ring on your doorbell like a normal person would be Yena. And it helped that you immediately recognised her voice from the first syllable she uttered. That and you were currently moping in your living room with lactose-free ice cream, courtesy of Jimin that dropped it off a day ago when he heard that you were ‘sick’. Even if you hadn’t seen him face-to-face, you remember him softly hoping you’d get better.

You don’t know why she’s at your door, but you’re already on your feet to get her when you hear her begin to mutter curses directed at you behind the thin wood of your entrance.

“I can hear you!” You call.

“Well bitch then open the damn door!” She snaps.

You roll your eyes, and so far with the number of times you’ve hung out with her, it’s safe to say that the two of you were comfortable. You never knew how fun having a girl best friend was until you met Yena, and sure it’s only been a little under two weeks since you’ve gotten to know her through various messages and FaceTimes, but you feel like she’s your friend soulmate.

And when you expressed that to her over a FaceTime call a few nights back, you remember her gagging all while you flush and attempt to take it back. You know her candidly calling you bitch rather than your name was her saying she felt the same.

You pull the door open as she stands there with her eyes narrowed into slits, eyeing you up and down before she scrunches her nose.

“There’s a thing called a shower that you should look into. You look like a rundown version of long-haired Noah Beck.” She grimaces when she eyes you up and down.

You scowl. “You did not just compare me to him.”

She clicks her tongue before she shoves you aside by shoving a plastic bag of the takeout food into your arms and steps into your apartment.

Yena ignores the glare you shoot at the back of her neck when she looks around your living room, scrunching her nose like she was here to inspect your room than pay you a visit.

“Did someone die in here or was that just your will to live?”

You scoff. “Wow. Drag me.”

She waves you off before plopping onto your couch while you sigh, immediately heading to the kitchen to prep the food she brought over.

“For a moment I thought you were dead.” She confesses casually.

When you return with bowls and plates, with the cutlery to match—you give her a dry look before you’re taking your seat on the floor; attempting to hide your half-eaten tub of ice cream, which Yena immediately spots.

“So your first instinct was to yell at my door in hopes that I wasn’t actually dead?” You ask dryly.

She picks up your ice cream and grimaces at it, silently judging you for the flavour before she gives you a shrug.

“Yeah. I was hoping that your spirit would confer.”

You snort. “And the food?”

“A peace offering.” She tells you like it’s obvious.

You sigh, you loved Yena—you really did. She was all over the place and random, but it was a refreshing difference that you needed in your life from the usual law and order you often opted for.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your concern,” You tell her, pulling out a container to see your favourite lemon chicken as you eye her suspiciously. “But what brings you here? I told you I was sick.”

Yena scoffs. “And sick you are, bitch. What kind of sick person devours ice cream? Sure, you look the part but your diet says otherwise. Don’t think I didn’t see the empty packet of snickers in the trash.”

You scowl.

“I recovered yesterday.” You lie, taking a bite out of the chicken.

Yena rolls her eyes and you know she doesn’t believe you. She leans into your couch while she watches you eat, “Namjoon texted me that you may need some company.” At that, you choke.

Her eyes widen as you hit at your chest to get the food to go down, eyes still wide at her revelation.

“Why would he do that?” You cry.

“Girl, I know you’re not trying to deflect—you’re literally about to choke and die.”

You glare at her. “I’m fine.” You cough for good measure, then you’re levelling another serious gaze at her.

“I’m fine.” You reiterate with an emphasis on your state even though you were anything but. “I don’t know why the hell he thinks I need company.” You mutter under your breath.

At this, Yena’s face softens as she leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees while you avoid her gaze; idly poking at your food.

“I don’t know either, and you don’t need to tell me anything.” She says softly. “That’s all I’m here for. To be your company, whether you need it or not.”

You don’t know how much Namjoon told her over a text message, but you don’t think it’s much. Purely because he didn’t seem like a snitch and he was too respectful to ever let other people into the business that wasn’t his own. Even at the thought, you want to groan because you essentially lured him into thinking it was okay for him to kiss you while you were … you don’t even know what the fuck was happening anymore.

“I—” You say weakly, and all Yena does is offer you a comforting smile.

For some reason, the fact that she’s here right in front of you after you spent the day crying and feeling like your heart has been repeatedly stomped over with the addition of your rumination—it feels nice to have someone with you, even if it’s just their presence.

But the way she doesn’t look at you and expects something out of your conversation makes you feel even more overwhelmed, and that’s probably why the dam breaks.

Yena’s eyes widen as she immediately darts out to wrap her arms around you when you end up in violent sobs. You don’t know why you’re crying but you are, and you’re tired of hiding things, your feelings and your intent just to pretend like things were okay.

“It’s okay.” She strokes your hair and it feels warm, like a mother comforting a crying baby and you realise that this is what friends should feel like.

“N-no it’s n-not!” You cry into her shirt and it’s messy, but she doesn’t seem like she minds. Especially when she supports your pliable frame.

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks softly, giving you a kind smile.

You sniffle, staring forward as you feel your eyes swell with the escalation of your tears.

“I don’t know.” You whisper.

She hums, “It’s okay not to know. You don’t need to know everything.”

“I’m just so tired, Yena.” You tell her in a hushed breath.

“Life is difficult.” She admits. “It’s natural to be tired.”

You’re thankful to hear that she doesn’t comfort you with blind optimism. She’s real and she acknowledges how shitty things may be, and frankly, you didn’t need another wannabe altruist telling you that things will get better. You knew that, everyone did. But when you’re at rock bottom and all you see is darkness, you’re not looking for better. You’re looking for a reason to continue.

“Can I say something?” She asks. The way she looks at you is soft and open, and non-judgemental. You feel safe.

You nod your head, teary eyes staring up at her.

“You’re not responsible for anyone’s feelings except your own.” She looks at you so seriously that you nearly feel your breath escape. “There are things that you can and cannot control—and the latter usually falls under the people around you.”

You suck in a breath, and you wonder how she’s so spot on without ever touching on the true context.

“Namjoon texted me but I didn’t come here because he asked me to. It’s because you deserve to have someone be around you when you’re clearly not okay.”

“I’m—”

“You’re not.” She blinks, and you almost pout at her firm tone. “And that’s okay. I don’t need to know what happened to justify how you feel. You could’ve stubbed your toe and feel like absolute shit and I have absolutely no right to judge you on how or when you feel emotions.”

You wonder where she’s been your entire life and why she was only in your life now.

“But the thing is,” She sighs. “You don’t always have to choose between something or the other. Sometimes you need to choose yourself.”

You stare up at her in awe because Yena was cool in general, her laidback and unbending personality was mainly what drew you to her because you’d argue you were the opposite. Even if Jungkook’s words stung, you could take it at face value and accept that it was true.

You were uptight and you were a bit of a prude, and for the longest time, you always resented that aspect of you. But you realised with Yena, she had traits that were resented in a woman as well. And you realise that you’d never be perceived the way you want unless you perceive yourself in a positive light first.

So when she speaks to you so sternly, yet with a tone of care as she picks apart her words so carefully—you realise what you have to do.

“I think I like Jungkook.”

Yena pauses for a brief second, but you don’t see any judgement in her face. Just confusion, a warranted emotion you don’t blame her for having.

“I figured as much.”

Your eyes widened, “How—?”

It’s almost like a repeat of the first night at the football game when you befriended each other, but she only shoots you a gentle smile.

“Call it a woman’s intuition.”

You blink, fiddling with your fingers before you stare up at her, continuing your drawls.

“And we kissed.”

At this, Yena cocks an eyebrow up, “Was this recent?”

You fiddle with your thumbs before you sigh and push yourself up.

“Thing is …” You mumble, “I’m not like that.”

You don’t answer her question because you can’t think of a proper enough response to tell her that yeah—you did kiss him, amongst other things that you foolishly allowed yourself to indulge in. You knew Yena wasn’t judgemental but you also knew that you couldn’t retrieve your words the moment they left your mouth. It was your own judgement that stopped you from saying the things you really wanted and it sucked, royally. Because you could tell that Yena wasn’t out here to crucify you for being … liberated. She just wanted to be there for you.

Yena scrunches her eyebrows in confusion as she allows your words to settle, pondering a response.

She settles for a huff, “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t … do things like that.” You say softly. “I’m shy and quiet. I’m not active in the social sphere and I only have three friends that I can reach out to if I wanna hang out. But even then, I don’t … I don’t like partying, or drinking, or loud spaces. I’m awkward and horrible at social interaction let alone being able to navigate my romantic feelings. And … I felt so bad about it.”

Yena’s eyes soften, but you can’t look at her just yet. Not when this is the first time you’ve ever laid yourself vulnerable, emotionally that is, to someone that wasn’t just the confines of your thoughts.

“I always wondered what it’d like to be confident, to be liked on campus and not just be known as the smart girl.” You whisper. “My entire personality was built around my achievements and I didn’t know what else to do. What if … what if I peak here and fail after?” Your eyes are wide in despair, and you feel your lips quiver when you speak.

“You’ll never know.” Yena reminds you gently. “You won’t know who likes you or what people say about you—but you’re going to be hearing your own thoughts 24/7 and that’s what kicks you down or drives you further.”

You sigh, nodding your head.

“It’s just … Jungkook and I were close. We grew up together even if he’s younger than me. But we just got along well and he … he saw me. He used to comfort me whenever I’d tell him how pressuring it got and—I feel so stupid because he probably says that to everyone and I fell for it.” You chuckle with no emotion, staring at the stray thread poking outside of your couch pillow.

“Have you spoken to him about your feelings?” She asks softly.

Immediately, you scoff and the sour emotion peaks through again.

“He’s made it clear what he wants to hear from me.” You mutter.

Yena purses her lips before resting her hands gently on your shoulder.

“You’re not answering my question, ______.” She chides gently.

You nibble on your bottom lip and shake your head. That earns a sigh from her as she wraps her arms around you once again, resting her chin on your shoulder as you allow yourself to feel the comfort of her warmth.

“He kissed me first and we did things together.” Your lips quiver when you recall the memories, “A-And he’s with Jennie. I just …” You flutter your eyes shut, “I don’t want to say that I’m the other girl but I feel a lot like a second option and it sucks.”

Yena doesn’t ask, and she doesn’t need to. She doesn’t need to justify why you felt the way you did, so she holds you tighter.

“Babe.” She gently turns you to look at her with both hands resting on your shoulders. “Did you talk to him? Properly? Do you really know if he’s with her?”

“I think them kissing proves enough to me.” You snap, and you don’t know why you’re being so hostile, especially to Yena.

She purses her lips, “You kissed him and you aren’t together.”

You wince and she shoots you an apologetic look. She sighs before reaching out to squeeze your hand, all while you stare at the ground to level out your emotions.

“I’m not saying that you can’t feel the way you do. But I’m offering objectivity here. Men are … they’re blunt creatures and that’s the biggest difference between men and women.” You furrow your eyebrows as she takes a deep breath before she continues. “And the idea that we’re equal? No, we’re not. I’m not talking about our systemic positions in society but on an emotional level. Men take things surface value and work with it, they don’t stop to think about the layers of feelings that go into interpersonal relationships with friends, family or lovers. Women? We go big or we go home. All we see is the big picture and sometimes the little details get lost in translation. This isn’t me justifying Jungkook playing home with you or Jennie at the same time, but offering you a perspective that may be hard for you to see because you aren’t him.”

It was true, and you hated yourself for being aware but not putting action based on your own thoughts. Yena only reaffirmed the idea that you overthought every single interaction and maybe that was why you were the one that was hurting.

That, or you and Jungkook had horrible communication problems that neither of you was ready to face just yet. But how could you? When the two of you were on two different wavelengths and you were trying to be just enough for him while he was jumping off pedestals to see you.

It didn’t feel nice, and it sucked because he was the same person that comforted you and broke you all at once.

“I’m scared.” You whisper.

She smiles at you gently, patting your head gently as you peer up at her with tears between your lashes.

“And that’s okay.” She reassures you with a soft voice, “The only thing scarier than being scared is not feeling at all.”

Before you go to where your heart tells you to—your mind is the only thing that keeps you rooted in some form of rationale. That’s probably why you’re outside of Namjoon’s dorm. You don’t think you’ve ever paid his place a visit despite him telling you his address on multiple occasions, usually opting to hang out in public yet serene places where you were able to get a breather.

Your feet feel heavy and your fist is raised, but it barely moves. Especially when you’re just eyeing his door like a deer caught in headlights. You’ve rehearsed the apology on your tongue a million times, even if you don’t really know what you’re apologising for. But you feel like you must, particularly because you’ve senselessly let him see all of the feelings that you were trying to suppress in hopes of retaining the same ones he had for you.

You take a deep breath and deliver the first knock, the vibrations making your arm feel weak.

But you’re tired of always surrendering to bigger and more frightening things that you could understand. So you purse your lips and play the waiting game.

It seems like a long twenty minutes that you wait, but in reality, it’s only two when the door swings open. You brace yourself to see Namjoon, apology already sitting on your tongue.

You should’ve dropped a text, you knew that. But you decided against it because you haven’t spoken to Namjoon since what happened a few days ago. Neither of you speaking about the kiss or the way your eyes glistened when you saw Jungkook and Jennie together.

“____?” He asks confusedly.

You give him a meek smile, “Hi. Can I come in?”

He blinks at you, and you notice he still has his glasses that he usually forgoes during the times you’ve hung out—and you feel a little guilty for catching him at a bad time.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Sure.”

Namjoon steps aside and you’re welcomed into the space of his living room. The first thing you notice is the interior, and how … Namjoon it was. It’s both cluttered and neat, the palette of his furniture matching the overall vibe he emanated. His furniture is mostly wood, light sandalwood that makes it feel all the homier.

And you tell him such, “You have a very homey place.”

Namjoon turns his head to look at you right before he plops himself back onto his couch where you see the bits and pieces of paper scrambled across the floor and the couch. Even then, he was able to look so welcoming even though you reckon he has a right to be hostile—for a reason you came here to apologise for.

“Thank you.” He flushes, patting a spot in front of him for you to take your seat.

When you settle, the atmosphere turns strained when you mull over your words so that you wouldn’t stumble over them. You practised, you did—about a hundred times before you came here and you thought you were ready to apologise and put things behind you but it’s proven difficult when all he does is look at you in earnest.

“Not that I—uh—mind,” He mumbles, “But is there a reason why you’re here?”

You blink at him as you ignore the quiver in your heart.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt.

“_____ why are you—”

“You didn’t deserve what happened the other day.” You interject, voice soft but unwavering when you force yourself to look at him as his eyes widen.

“I wasn’t the one that saw something I shouldn’t have.” He reminds you with a frown.

You swallow, “I kissed you. And you …” It wasn’t helping that he was looking at you so gently as he awaits your continuation. “You didn’t need to save me back then, Namjoon.” You end in a whisper.

Namjoon reaches out to grab your shoulder, touch gentle as he searches for your eyes.

“I didn’t save you …” He tells you tenderly.

“It’s not just that!” You exasperate while you throw your hands up in the air. “I-it’s everything … from the way you treat me and the way you look at me. You didn’t need to do any of that and you even—” You trail off, fluttering your eyes shut. “—what did you say to Jungkook right before we left?”

Namjoon’s eyes enlarge as his grip becomes tense against your shoulder. You can almost see the way his mind kicks into gear as he thinks of a response.

“That—I—does it matter?” He huffs.

Your eyes soften, “Namjoon.” You force yourself to look at him even if now he was the one that tries to avoid your gaze. “What did you say?”

Namjoon tightens his lips before he sighs deeply, head dropping forward before he looks at you.

“I told him to be honest.” He says softly.

You furrow your eyebrows, “To be honest …?”

“I know you have feelings for him.”

Your face blanches when Namjoon basically exposes you. It’s one thing for you to be self-aware of your complicated feelings towards the other boy. But when someone else points it out, especially when it’s Namjoon—the boy who’s been nothing but kind and patient with you while you’re too busy being caught up in your emotions—it’s like a slap across your face.

“I-I don’t—”

“You don’t need to lie to save my face, ______.” He chuckles dryly, eyes darting away as he tries to neutralise his expression. You wince at the spite he establishes, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t angry at you. No, he was far too understanding to be. Disappointed? Frustrated? Sure, but never angry,

The silence answers for you when you look away this time, eyebrows scrunched as you attempt to navigate the conversation. You came here to apologise, and to be honest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Don’t.” He takes a deep breath as you flinch. “Don’t … apologise.” He sighs.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on, Namjoon.” You murmur apologetically.

He shoots you a half-hearted chuckle, “You didn’t do anything. Really.”

“But I did, Namjoon. I kissed you back.” You frown.

“That doesn’t imply anything. I kissed you, and you reciprocated. We all kiss someone and not mean anything by it.”

You flinch, and you’re familiar with that more than anyone else. The reminder only stings because it makes you realise that you were not much different from Jungkook, the same person you’ve claimed to have messed with you and fucked you over.

“I’m—”

“Please don’t apologise anymore.” He says. “I already feel like shit.”

You smile sadly at him, “How do you manage to be so nice even when other’s do you wrong?”

Namjoon sighs, then he grabs both your hands in his. “You didn’t wrong me, _____. It’s not your fault you don’t feel the same way I do.”

“How did you …” You trail off.

“How did I know you had feelings for Jungkook?” He chuckles. “The same way he knew I had feelings for you.”

You purse your lips, eyes dropping to your lap. “It’s not that simple, Namjoon …” You say softly.

Namjoon smiles at you gently, “Is it?” He gently nudges your knee with his so that you’d look at him. “Life is simple. It’s not easy. But it’s simple.”

You scoff even if a small smile teases your lips, “You really are a philosophy major, aren’t you?”

The two of you grin in tandem before he purses his lips, possible mulling over something before he faces you.

“The two of you are close so … why beat around the bush?”

Your eyes flutter shut, shaking your head. “Like I said, it’s really not that simple.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but it’s not to mock or taunt you. Namjoon simply sees a naive, yet an intelligent girl who doesn’t see what’s right in front of her.

“Remember what I said? I’m a simple guy.” He reminds you, lips in a grin. “Try me.”

You snort, but you’re still nervous. You still remember that he has feelings for you, so you’re hesitant. And he immediately recognises the guilt-ridden expression that you mar.

Namjoon shoots you a stern glare, “Don’t overthink it.”

You sigh.

“Jungkook and I …” You start, fiddling with your thumbs. “We grew up together.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and shoots you another one of his bland stares. “I know the history. I just want to know why?”

You furrow your brows, “Why?”

“Why the two of you insist on being so emotionally constipated.”

You gape at his audacity, and you’re glad the atmosphere isn’t as tense because Namjoon simply snickers at your reaction.

“I am not—!”

He waves you off, “Really?” He adds dryly.

You purse your lips and relent, even if you didn’t want to agree with him—you knew that he was … right. To a certain extent.

“We kissed.” You blurt.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, “That’s not surprising.”

You shoot him a dry look before he raises his hands in defence.

“He was my first kiss.”

At this, Namjoon’s widen.

“When you were in high school?” He pries.

You flush, embarrassed that you had to tell him otherwise.

“Two months ago.” You mutter.

Namjoon splutters, and you can’t help but glare at him when he quite literally chokes on his spit. You know you caught him off guard, but him rubbing salt in the wound that’s relatively fresh makes you scowl.

“Oh.” He clears his throat. Then he repeats, “Oh.”

You scoff, “Yeah. Oh.”

“Then … what happened?” You know he’s treading carefully with you when he asks you his question softly.

You purse your lips, and you recall every single moment you’ve shared with him. From giggles to hushed kisses, to intimate touches and sweat-stained sheets that have you gasping for air. You remember it all, and they meant … they meant the world to you, but just a speck in his memory.

“Things escalated and we … did stuff together.” You wince.

Namjoon nods in understanding, he gestures his hands around, “Like—”

“I’m a virgin.”

Namjoon blinks.

“And for the longest time, I felt embarrassed about it.”

“Oh.”

“I struggled to find my footing between being sexually liberated and being a woman because for the longest time I thought those two were mutually exclusive. For me, at least.” You say softly.

Namjoon only stares at you.

“And I always wanted validation from someone else to tell me that what I was doing was the right thing to do. Or the supposed thing to do. Never what I really wanted to do.”

“Not that I’m uncomfortable but … why are you letting me in on this?” Namjoon asks with a raised brow.

“Because I want to do something for myself for once.” You whisper.

“Okay …?”

“Why do you like me? Even if I’m … boring and not as sexy as other women?”

You sound pathetic, and the first person you find yourself comparing yourself to is Jennie—a beautiful, confident woman who looked so assured in herself.

“You’re not—”

You groan.

“Namjoon.”

“Okay.” He sighs. “If you’re asking me if I care that you’re a virgin, then no. I really don’t. Because frankly, that concept to me is false and problematic. Whether or not you’ve had sex or not isn’t any of my business.”

You duck your head.

“And I like you because you’re interesting. You’re funny and you’re assured in your own way. You don’t need to be a certain standard of pretty or sexy or whatever for me to like you. I like you because of the time we’ve spent together and that I’ve gotten to know you. The real you and not the person I admired from afar but the girl who throws in jokes out of nowhere but fits so well with the situation. The girl who’s willing to spend three extra hours of her time to help with content that wasn’t prescribed to her. I like you because I’d like to think I’ve grown to understand who you are.”

Namjoon says all of those things while staring at you straight in the face and you feel compelled to cry. Because no one has ever been so honest with you and you hate that your heart can’t reciprocate what should be an easy feeling that comes naturally.

“Fuck.”

His eyes widen.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He coos, a hand petting your hair gently as you sniffle.

“It’s not, Namjoon. Everything sucks because everything is so complicated. Why can’t I just have feelings for you instead?”

It’s selfish, and Namjoon winces. But you’re so overwhelmed that you miss it, and Namjoon is too nice to point his own feelings out.

“You don’t pick and choose your battles, _____.” He murmurs softly.

“That’s not what my mom told me.” You whimper.

He chuckles, “Yeah. Most people like to believe that because it makes them think that they have a choice over the bad things that happen in their lives. But in reality? They don’t. No one decides what happens to them. You pick and choose how you react to things. How you deal with situations and what you make out of those situations is what you can choose to do. You don’t like me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to just because I’m nice to you, _____. Being nice is the absolute bare minimum and something that everyone should feel and do.”

Your face crumbles, “Why are you so wise?”

Namjoon smiles, “I’m not. It’s called offering a different perspective. Just because I see things one way doesn’t make me any better than you who sees things in another. That’s why we meet different types of people throughout our lives. The good, the bad, the in-between. There’s always something people offer to us in the midst of chaos.”

You sigh.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon.”

He pats your head, “I said don’t apologise.”

“No, but I want to. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and you picked up a shitty situation to be in when Jungkook and Jennie were at the library. Even right after I kissed you. That was … a horrible thing to do. I shouldn’t have done that just because—just because I was confused … you don’t deserve that.”

He doesn’t look angry, and that’s even worst because you want him to react, to call you a bitch and say that you were a horrible person.

“I don’t.” He shrugs while you wince. “But a lot of the times we don’t deserve a lot of things that we get. And that’s okay. You did what you thought was justified then, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. But you’re hurting too, and you’re confused—that’s what drove you to do the things that you did, and even here. That’s why you’re apologising to me, right? Because you’re not as confused anymore?”

You shake your head.

“I am, I’m still so confused.” You whisper.

“Then let me offer you another perspective.”

You look up to him with big eyes as he smiles at you gently.

“You have feelings for Jungkook.” You immediately flinch, even if he didn’t hit you. But Namjoon continues. “You’re trying to keep the picture as simple as you can even if it hurts you in the process. But

“You don’t understand, Namjoon … we … did things … that I’m not proud off …”

“You don’t have to—”

“He was my first kiss. My first … sexual experience. Even if it was just … third base,” You cringe, but Namjoon isn’t judging you at all. “A-and that’s all I was to him. An experience.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Do I, Namjoon?” You say softly. “He said things to me that were so hurtful. And a stupid part of me forgives him but it still hurts every time I think about it and when I see him with Jennie.”

You whisper the words Jungkook’s said to you, and for the first time, you see Namjoon’s jaw harden. The most emotion that wasn’t rationale you’ve seen in Namjoon ever since you first arrived.

“I know it hurts.” He murmurs, holding you close. “And I really don’t want it to seem like I’m justifying his words … but would you want to hear me out?”

You purse your lips and nod nevertheless.

“Jungkook isn’t a bad person.” You blink, you never thought he was. “I know you don’t think he is but you want to. Because of the things he’s said to you because why would a good person say those kinds of things, right? But the world isn’t black and white like that. There’s a grey area where 99% of the population falls into because we operate on emotion and sometimes we say things that we may feel but not necessarily believe in.”

“Jungkook … he’s still young. And I know we’re in college and stuff but he’s still three years younger than I am and two years younger than you. He’s spoken to me about how hard it was to adjust to a high school life where you, Jimin and Tae weren’t a part of. And I don’t know about you but if the only friends I’ve ever known suddenly left because they had to … I wouldn’t know what to do either. He was at a point in his life where his environment played a huge part in the values and internalised beliefs he had.”

You look away as you reflect on his words, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“He mixed around with different groups of people, and I hate this saying but it’s still a common belief to many—especially people his age, almost out of high school. But the ‘boys will be boys’ mentality is more than just misogyny and sexism, but a culture where it feeds off complacency and peer pressure. Jungkook suddenly had to shift from three, good friends who were progressive and influential in an objectively good way to people he was obliged to like because they were his peers.”

You gape at him, purely because you knew that Namjoon was smart and wise but his introspection leaves you breathless and enlightened.

“But that doesn’t change the core of Jungkook,” Namjoon says. “He’s still Jungkook. He doesn’t know how to ask for things that he wants without feeling like he’s betraying his masculinity. And again, I’m not justifying his actions because he’s a grown man too. But he’s lost, and the only thing he knows to uphold this sense of masculinity is by being sexually liberated. Even if he conflates his own emotions with his endeavours.”

“I … I don’t even know what to say Namjoon.” You murmur, eyes looking up through your lashes.

“You don’t need to say anything. I just want you to be honest to yourself, not anyone else. But yourself.” He tells you, carding a gentle hand over your head.

You fiddle with your thumbs.

“What do you want?”

Despite you confiding two different people, you find yourself at a convenience store at 12AM, scarfing down ramen from a cup noodle because your mind was a funny place when it was muddled with a hundred different thoughts. You knew sleep wasn’t an option for you either, and you were hungry. But somehow you didn’t have anything back in your apartment that screamed ‘I’m in a crisis’ enough for you to eat.

Which is why you’re here, while the cashier keeps his eyeball to himself when he sees yet another college student who’s probably having their third mental breakdown of the day.

It is, but not for the right reasons, you think dryly.

You think you’re alone until the chime of the bell momentarily distracts you and you turn your head to acknowledge the next lone customer who may be going through their own set of issues, or had a fucked up sleeping schedule.

But you’re not expecting to make eye contact with Jennie, out of everyone or any stranger you could’ve come across.

She spots you, shoots you a weird look that has you nearly choking on a string of noodles before she moves on to what she came here to do and stops at the snack section, skimming through her options before she settles on a pack of shrimp chips. Your heart churns because they were Jungkook’s favourite. You don’t want to wonder why she picked them.

You turn to your noodles, scarf them down some more because you want to eat your thoughts away even if you’re half-considering to call Jungkook, tell him you wanted to talk. But you knew that if you spoke to him now when you were still sorting out your thoughts, you’d end up in a situation you won’t be ready to deal with.

So when you poke at your food and sigh to yourself, you almost miss the way the stool beside you scrapes against the floor as you cringe.

You turn to shoot a petty glare at the person, and you see Jennie; casually tearing open her chips and popping one into her mouth

You blink at her, and you’re left even more speechless when she juts her hand out as if to offer you a shrimp cracker. Like it was a weird symbol of a truce. Even if you weren’t really … enemies.

“Want some?”

You stare at her, and before you can think twice your lips are moving.

“The crackers or your company?” You say dryly.

Her eyes widen, and so does yours. You didn’t expect to say your exact thoughts and you don’t think she expected a quiet, timid girl like you to have said that—out loud at least. Like Yena said, everyone has a mean bone in them. Some longer and larger than others, but they were still there.

“Wow.” She huffs, but she doesn’t seem offended. “Rude, much?”

You wince and feel compelled to apologise. “Sorry.”

She waves you off and you feel odd to be sitting next to her. You always expected her to be more malicious, a lot more of a bitch. And you frown to yourself because you suppose it’s your own preconceived notions of her due to the association she has with Jungkook that had you thinking of her that way.

“What’s someone like you doing here on a weekday?” She asks off-handedly.

The term ‘someone like you’ doesn’t sit well with you, and you scowl.

“I’m eating. What does it look like?” You retort, and Jennie only raises an eyebrow at your response. Much like an angry kitten.

“Damn, I was just asking.” She mutters under her breath, “I’m hungry. Needed a snack.” She shakes the crackers in front of you, “You sure you don’t want one?”

You can’t believe her as you gape at her easy-going state when she thrusts the bag of crackers into your face yet again.

“No.” You furrow your brows, gently pushing it away as she shrugs her shoulders.

“It’s good.” She reasons, and you don’t know why she’s so adamant about having you take one.

The irrational part of you thinks she wants to poison you, to eliminate you for good so she won’t have to deal with your pathetic pining over a person that wasn’t even yours.

“I know.” You mutter. “I tried it before.”

Jennie nods her head slowly, observing the content of the packet on the back before she turns to face you, “Jungkook introduced this to me. Didn’t see the appeal but it’s addictive.”

You freeze, and your ramen soup is getting cold with the way you haven’t prodded at it for a while and in the air-conditioning in the convenience store. You feel your stomach drop, especially now that your initial suspicions were confirmed.

“That’s nice.” You grit. It really isn’t.

“Did he introduce it to you?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

Why you’re still talking to her, or why she was bothering to talk to you when she’s ignored you all this while—you aren’t sure. But you still answer her despite the spite that forms in your chest.

“I introduced it to him.” You inform.

She hums, unbothered. It only irritates you more.

“Is there a reason?” You huff. “Why you’re here?”

She raises an eyebrow, “I’m hungry?”

You scoff. “No.” You slam the table ever so slightly because even if you were annoyed and confused, you weren’t that brave and you didn’t want to cause a scene at a convenience store at midnight. “Why are you here. Talking to me.”

Jennie blinks at you, then stares at you for seconds too long that you flush under her unwavering stare before she ends up in a fit of giggles. You almost think she’s here to mock you, to call you out on your pathetic and humiliating pining for someone who doesn’t care about you the same way you do to him. But she pats you on the shoulder, and you want to think it’s condescending but it doesn’t seem that way at all.

“You’re an acquaintance. You looked like you needed the company.”

You frown, “I don’t.”

She rolls her eyes, munching on another chip.

“You do. Your posture looks depressing.”

“Excuse me?” You scowl.

“It’s true.” She shrugs. “You don’t seem the type to be here wallowing unless it’s really bad. You seem like you have your shit together.”

And because your mind is already muddled and confused, and filled with irrational thoughts. Her words set you off, and you seem to be underrating or overreacting more than usual. So you snap, you shove your cup aside that the soup nearly sloshes out and send her a glare so blazing that Jennie’s caught off guard.

“And you think you know me well enough to gauge whether or not I’m ‘like this’ or the type to have a perfect mental breakdown regimen because I’m smart?” You seethe. Jennie’s eyes widen. “I have mental breakdowns like every other student and I binge eat when I’m stressed and I fuck up from time to time. I curse, yes! I see your face. Oh does she not curse? Well, look at me, bitch. I can curse like a motherfucking sailor at sea when the fishes come because I’m human. I’m just like you. So fuck off with your ‘you seem like you have your shit together’ because I don’t and I’m so fucking annoyed with your stupid face whenever I see it because it only reminds me of Jungkook!”

The silence is defining, even the cashier stops counting his bills for the night because you don’t hear the rubbing of money together. You feel his stare on your back, and more pressingly, you feel Jennie’s shocked expression linger on your face, and now that you’ve come down from your rage. Your face heats up in embarrassment.

You don’t even recall what you said, except for the fact you’ve mentioned her and Jungkook in the same sentence. And your face pales.

“I …” She chokes.

You flush, before you’re turning away, snatching your belongings to leave and forget this convenience store and never return because you don’t think you can show your face here ever again.

But before you’re able to make a run for it, a hand grabs your elbow that stops you from moving any further.

“This is already as embarrassing—” You exasperate, trying to snatch your arm away.

“For a girl so smart, you’re really dumb, aren’t you?” She deadpans.

You gape, finding enough strength to retrieve your arm as you stare at her with a dumbfounded expression.

“Excuse me—?”

“Firstly, let’s unpack what you just said because there are a lot of things that need to be dissected here.” She says blankly.

You scowl, “Look I don’t—”

“One.” She blinks as if she was doing a presentation for a course and not talking to an alleged acquaintance. “I don’t think you should act a certain way just because you’re smart. You’re entitled to your own mechanisms and I’m not judging you for them. I was simply pointing out my own observations, and I’m sorry for being insensitive.”

You’re stunned to silence, because did Jennie just … apologise to you?

“Two.” She says. You listen silently. “I think you have things you need to talk to Jungkook about, and frankly—I would’ve stayed away if I knew that the two of you were a thing.”

“We’re not a thing!” You cry, face flushed.

She shoots you an unimpressed look, “Really. So that oddly targeted blow-up was because of your mental breakdown and not because you don’t have feelings for Jungkook?”

She’s the third person to call you out the same day, or within the first one in the next. And it’s even more embarrassing because it’s the girl you’ve compared yourself to countless times because of your own insecurities.

“Yes.” You snap childishly.

Jennie sighs, gesturing for you to sit on the stool. You want to defy her out of spite, but you’ve already gotten this far into the conversation and you feel like you’d miss out on something if you left now.

“Why are you mad at me?” She asks.

“I-I’m not mad—” You weakly protest.

“You are. There’s anger in you and if it’s not directed to Jungkook then it’s directed to me. Is it because I’m a woman?”

Your eyes widen, “What—?”

“Let me reword that,” She sighs. “Is it because I’m the woman with Jungkook?”

You flinch at her declaration, especially since she indirectly confessed to being with him, while you weren’t.

“I don’t …” You trail off in a whisper.

“I don’t blame you for being angry.” She says. “But I need you to understand that I would never have done anything with him if I knew that the two of you were together.”

“We’re not.” You blink, and her unimpressed look is still there that makes you speak a little louder. “We’re not together.”

She opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it. You see her furrow her eyebrows before she settles for a response that comes a few moments after.

“Okay, then if you’re not together then why the resentment?” She puts it so simply and now that you’re listening to her, you feel a lot stupider.

“I just …” You croak, fiddling with your fingers, “I don’t …”

She sighs, “Listen. We’re both women here. I know how it feels to be left in the dark when it comes to things like this but there’s no point in being angry at me when in reality it’s Jungkook you need to talk to. If you aren’t together then I don’t understand why you’re angry with me—or with him.”

You sit there in silence, nearly pouting like a scolded child.

“You’re his type.” You say softly.

Jennie pauses before she raises an eyebrow.

“And you believe that?”

You furrow your eyebrows, “I mean, of course?” You mumble, “You’re pretty, confident and sexy. Any guy would like you.”

For a moment, you think you’ve said too much. Looked to vulnerable. But Jennie doesn’t do the typical mean girl thing where she laughs in your face and threatens to expose you. Instead, her eyes soften, and her hand reaches out to hold yours.

“____.” She calls your name gently, and you look away, embarrassed. “You’re pretty. You’re confident. You are sexy.”

You flush, “No. I’m not.”

She scoffs, “_____, there isn’t a set definition of what a pretty woman is like. Nor is there a one-dimensional understanding of a confident woman. There are confident women who strut in their walk and commands all the attention in the room. But there are also quiet, assured women who are intelligent and confident in their capabilities. Both of them are so different, but the one thing that they have in common?” She prompts as your eyebrows furrow. “They’re both women who are worthy of love.”

You blink up at her when her tone goes softer.

“I don’t think I’m Jungkook’s type.” She tells you.

But for some reason you need to deny it, again.

“I think you are.” You mumble, “You’re … you. And you’re probably … experienced.” You cringe at what you say, and you’re mortified if you need to explain yourself to her. But Jennie immediately picks up on it, and you don’t notice how she tenses for a split second but recovers immediately.

“We’ve done things together, yes.” You feel your heart shatter, “But you don’t have to do anything with him for him to like you.”

You sigh, “Maybe. But that's the only way he’s ever wanted me.” You say so softly that Jennie almost doesn’t catch it.

Jennie’s face softens much more, turning into a much gentler expression as she nudges your chin to look at her. And when you do, you feel wounded. You feel so much less assured than you were when you were raging at her. You hated it, how she treated you so kindly when she should’ve been cursing at you like you did to her.

“Do you want to know something?” She asks.

You nibble on your lips before you nod your head.

“If someone doesn’t want you. It’s not because you’re lacking. It’s because they’re lacking the sense to perceive you in a way that recognises your inherent worth to be loved.”

Your breath hitches and Jennie continues.

“I’ve had instances where men didn’t want to sleep with me because I was too confident, too sexually liberated for them. As if who I slept with mattered because it wasn’t them. It was never going to be them.”

“I didn’t sleep with Jungkook.” You tell her, voice soft as if you needed to clarify.

“And you don’t need to. You don’t need to sleep with anyone for them to want you. If Jungkook only wants you for your body then he doesn’t deserve you.” She points out.

You feel your heart clench, and the realisation coming from Jennie only hurts even more.

“But he’s important to me …” You whisper.

“What’s important is not always what’s good for you.” She informs you with a gentle smile. “Your sexuality is yours. And if you want to sleep or be sexual with someone, you do it because you want to. Not because someone coerced you into doing it.”

Your eyes widened, “N-No. Jungkook didn’t force me. I consented. To all of it.” You murmur, “I wanted to do it. B-But I just felt so … lacking? In comparison and … since then all he’s came to me for was just … that.”

Jennie nibbles on her bottom lip, “Jungkook’s not a bad person.” She says softly. And she’s the second person that tells you that. So you know it’s a true reflection of his character.

“I know.”

She smiles, “We both do.” She nods, “But he’s misguided. He’s never had the ability to be with someone he really cares for and I think when that happened—he dealt with it the only way he knows how to.”

You furrow your brows, “But he’s with you.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle, “No. Not emotionally, at least.” She informs. “And he doesn’t care about me. I know. He’s always kept me at arms-length away, and I’m fine with that because I don’t like him like that either.”

You blink, and your ears turn red. “H-How do you—?”

“How do I separate lust from affection?” She laughs. “It’s because I can. Not everyone can do that, and Jungkook is one of them.”

“But you just said that he didn’t care about you.”

“I’m not talking about me,” She smiles sadly.

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion until you realise what she was implying. And you don’t want to assume anything, never. Because hope was the one feeling that was worse than fear and you didn’t want to subject yourself to that just yet.

“Oh.” You mumble.

She nods, squeezing your hand.

“I think he misses you.”

You purse your lips.

You missed him, too.

721 notes · View notes

squeeneyart · 3 years ago

Text

Breath in the Salt - Chapter 27

AO3

What time is it?

Martin takes a breather.

(lol happy jonmartin week)

After lunch Martin collapsed onto his bed, muscles complaining from the long walk he’d taken around town. They didn’t ache; he’d made the walk up and down those cliffs enough to have built up some stamina. But he was tired, tired enough to place his glasses on the side table and try for a lie down.

Jon had gone out to sea.

It was good news. A few days of rest and Jon was comfortable going back in the water. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to bring up safety concerns if Jon was diving back in of his own accord. Maybe it wouldn’t take much convincing for Jon to find a safer place to hide.

Then there would be no need for Jon to worry about the skin or pretend he was ok with Martin seeing it.

Martin frowned, rubbing small circles into his forehead and cheeks. It would’ve been nice to pretend that Jon was genuinely all right with his coat lying around for Martin to see, but there was no getting around the tightness around the man’s mouth as he’d taken the skin out of the room.

Not that Martin had made the situation any better, freezing up at the sight of the thing. He’d managed to calm down enough for polite conversation during lunch, but there he was, holed up in his room in the hopes that sleep would carry everything away. It wasn’t pleasant, but there was nothing else to do in his agitated state but retreat upstairs and try to relax.

So he lay there, turning from one side to the other, unable to stop himself from peeking at his phone and confirming that it had only been minutes since the last time he’d checked. For several hours he did this, groaning each time the clock refused to tick forward more than a quarter of an hour. All he wanted was for time to pass while he wasn’t looking. Why couldn’t it play along for once?

It was while reaching for his phone yet again that there was a knock on his door.

“Martin?

The phone dropped to the floor, and Martin cursed. “Yeah? Sorry, give me a minute.” He reached down after it, squinting into the shadows between his bed and the side table.

From the other side of the door, Jon said, “If this is a bad time-”

“No, no, it’s-” Martin sighed and finally grabbed his glasses from the end table. Tightening his ponytail back to a presentable state, he pushed himself off of the bed and opened the door. “It’s fine. What’s going on?”

Jon looked up at him, fingers lacing together. Then he looked back down, warm light from the hall casting his face in shadow. “Nothing. The trip outside left me more tired than I’d expected, so I’ve given up on research for the night.”

“Oh. Okay.” He wasn’t sure if it was the sudden brightness or his failure of a nap, but Martin found himself slow to respond. “Glad you’re taking some time to rest?”

“That’s the idea. I hope I didn’t interrupt you.” He looked through the doorway into the dark.

“You did? Sort of. Wasn’t going well, though.” Martin said, running a hand along his forehead and combing a bit of his bangs that had flipped up against his pillow. “Can I… Do you need something?”

Jon scratched his head. “Er… not really. It’s getting a bit late and I thought we could eat and continue that show we started yesterday. The one with the old house?”

Late. He had started his nap with some light through his window and when he dropped his phone he couldn’t see a damned thing. Of all the rude things.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t realize how late it had gotten-” Martin walked past him and down the stairs. “I should be able to get something made up.”

With a placating gesture, Jon said, “Martin, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine! You’re a guest and yesterday…” At a sudden new smell Martin trailed off, following the scent to its source. “Oh.”

It was rice and chicken with fried vegetables. Two bowls were set on the kitchen counter, ready to be filled from the large pan on the stove. Simple enough, anything would have to be with Martin’s grocery choices, but there had been a clear increase in effort from the night before.

Damn it, he’d slept too late. He should’ve been up an hour ago, not wallowing in bed while Jon made dinner again. He wasn’t thrilled at the idea of Jon eating his cooking, but it would’ve been less embarrassing. Absent-mindedly he tried to smooth a different area of his hair.

Coming back to himself, Martin glanced at Jon who had already started filling up his own bowl.

He would not make another meal weird. Not for the third time in a row. He stood back and waited for his turn. “It looks great. Thanks for cooking, again. I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“You grabbed lunch. Fair is fair.” Jon turned with his food and gestured toward the living room with his elbow.

Dinner and drink acquired, they walked past the empty kitchen tabled into the living room and settled into their respective sides. Because that was how things were, with Jon on the right and Martin to the left. Routine. Or Jon preferred having a side table to his right.

Not much was said as they resumed their watch, Jon clearly trying to keep stone faced at the strange yelling man they’d left off from in the young girl’s dream. It was too early to let himself laugh at something that silly, apparently. The adventures of the younger sister continued with empty halls and one incredibly mean older brother. Not in a particularly intense way, but the way siblings could be in shows. Martin hadn’t had any experience in that vein, but he hoped actual siblings weren’t actually that awful to each other.

Nevertheless, the girl went on exploring the house and the surrounding grounds, this time with a proper coat and boots. From over a hedge, a child from a neighboring house told her of local superstitions related to her family’s new home and then was called home by a woman off screen.

“I wonder if that’s all he was for,” Jon said, taking another bite of chicken. “Walk on-screen, say something cryptic, and then disappear forever.”

Martin thought for a moment, swallowing his current mouthful. “Don’t remember him, honestly.”

With a sigh, Jon raised an eyebrow at Martin and said, “Well, there are worse ways of getting information across I suppose.” Then he turned back to the television.

This would happen every once in a while, Jon making some comment or other with the tiniest of nit-picks and looking at Martin not for agreement but just to have someone to say it to. He wondered if Jon would say it out loud with no one else in the room. It was easygoing, though, and with Jon happy enough to fill the space, Martin didn’t have to use much of his brain to enjoy himself.

At one point the girl made her way into an attic space. Jon wondered aloud if the strange man from before would ever come back or if it was just another one-off character when suddenly the camera turned with the man’s face in the window.

Both men jumped in their seats, Jon with a startled yelp. His fork fell to the ground and he scowled at it. “Shit.”

Martin smiled sheepishly and said, “I do remember being a bit scared of this show now that I think about it.”

Clearing his throat, Jon scooped up his fork and strode over to the kitchen. “A cheap jump scare, that’s all. It would startle anyone.”

He didn’t mean to laugh, but a little one slipped out as Jon left the room. Hopefully Jon hadn’t heard him. The man was already bad enough at hiding his own embarrassment, and he didn’t want to come off as mocking. Even if he was, a bit.

It didn’t seem like Jon took teasing too badly, though, if past conversations were any proof. He huffed and did his best to explain himself, sure, but he wasn’t the type to linger too long before moving onto other topics. Given the opportunity he might even tease Martin back.

This was stupid. This was a stupid thing to think about and Martin’s ears were starting to burn.

He rubbed his forehead and let out a breath through his nose. It was all right. With the limited time Jon would be staying, it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy his evening and be a bit easier on himself. What did it matter if he had the tiniest, softest feelings as long as he kept quiet about them?

Jon returned after a minute or so with a clean fork and a suspicious glance at the television set.

Not having bothered to pause the show, Martin said, “The man’s face disappeared when-”

“When she looked again, I heard,” Jon replied, waving a hand.

“Sure you want to keep watching?” Martin asked, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

Nodding gravely, Jon glared at the screen. “Yes. Next time he appears I’ll be ready for him.”

Unable to stop himself, Martin snorted and then kept his face down towards his dinner bowl until the scene was over. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jon relax into the back of the couch. Maybe he even smiled a little. From that angle it was hard to tell, and at that point Martin was incapable of looking directly at him without exposing the absolutely gone look on his own face.

It only took him weeks of knowing the guy and several days of living with him, but Martin had finally noticed that Jon often tried to be funny in a flat sort of way. Pity he had to deal with someone who didn’t pick up on the joke half the time.

Jon was trying. Trying to be a good house guest, to fix the mess they both had found themselves in, to help people he barely knew. To make their cohabitation bearable.

So Martin laughed a little through his scorched throat, hoping it was enough.

When Martin returned from his walk to town the next day the skin was hanging up in the downstairs shower, dripping wet. A better place to see it, for certain. Martin had the hall to himself when he jumped at the sight and could scurry up to his room to let his stomach untie itself before Jon noticed he was home.

Once his breathing had caught up with him he had the space to wonder if the trips out to sea had been happening this whole time. Maybe Jon’s trepidation was all in Martin’s head, another baseless excuse to put off the inevitable.

He tried to bring his concerns up that night at dinner (whipped up by Martin at his own insistence, unfortunately), but Jon really got going on the topic of irregular hauntings and it seemed a shame to-

He’d taken notes on what to say.

Once lunch came around on Monday he sat himself down and started to write in his notebook. The notes were scattered, barely legible with how fast he scribbled, but the pen chased his thoughts as best they could. The notes weren’t a letter or speech and couldn’t be relied on as such. Pros and cons, the numerous risks Jon was taking, that sort of thing.

He wasn’t kicking Jon out. He wasn’t exactly inviting him to stay either. He was asking Jon to break a promise not just with Martin but with Evan as well. He was asking Jon to let Tim and Sasha handle things, not because Jon wasn’t capable-

God, what was he writing, a notice of termination?

Jon could leave. Should. Absolutely, Jon needed to think ahead and not assume his own personal selkie hunter’s colleague wouldn’t sniff him out eventually. If he was lucky Jon would be on board with the idea. Not so lucky, though. He didn’t need Jon running out the door.

Martin had already asked Jon to let him make dinner again, and this time he would plan something better than his usual, easy meals. Nothing fantastic, but more effort than he’d bother to put in for himself. When he got back Jon would be tapping away at the laptop, where Martin could, well… corner him, basically. They would have the conversation, and once things were settled he could cook for Jon and assuage his own overwhelming dread by keeping his hands busy.

He looked at the winding steps and was halfway out of his chair when he saw his break was over. Nothing for him to do but work.

The walk down the cliffs was unbearable, and he wished he could go right back up and up and up to the lighthouse and up once more.

No one was making him do this. The conversation didn’t have to happen that evening, or any evening. Jon was an adult who wouldn’t appreciate someone nagging about safety. Probably.

But that just meant Martin had to be stubborn about it. Plant himself firm and make his case for why Jon needed to leave forever, immediately, for both their sakes. Because it was dangerous. Because the situation had changed since Jon made those promises. Because Martin couldn’t do this. He couldn’t have someone watching while he waited for the worst to come.

So Martin was going to kick Jon out of his house before he had the chance to break down and embarrass himself. Could he be more of a selfish arse?

Jon’s safety was the priority. Not his pride, or Martin’s helplessness, or how the house wasn’t so painfully quiet while Jon was there.

Jon’s safety. That and ripping the rug out from under Elias’ plans. That would feel good, even if he was never going to meet the man.

Breathing in sharply, Martin slapped his cheeks and brought life back to cold-numbed skin. He squinted at his house through the rolling fog. Light shone through only the living room window, fuzzy through the mist on Martin’s glasses. His hair had begun to stick to his forehead unpleasantly, so he stalked towards the house and left his stupid arguments behind.

“Jon?” he said, a little too loud for the empty front hall. He hung up his heavier jacket on the hook. “I’m back. It’s nasty today, isn’t it?”

The silence he’d tried to break stood firm, the tiniest reverberations of his voice hitting him like a brick.

So he walked lightly, gently, down the hall, passing the living room to peek inside the dark toilet. Nothing hung from the shower rod.

Something rose like panic in his chest, and he shoved it down. Backtracking, he reached the living room and found it empty. No long-forgotten mug on the side table, the blanket once crumpled now folded politely, and the laptop sitting closed on what had become Martin’s side of the couch.

He backed into the hallway and turned his head towards the front door, careful not to look into the kitchen. His wet tracks formed a path outside for him to follow.

Starting at the base of the front steps were footprints, smaller than his own and faded to almost nothing. And they went straight towards the water. Martin couldn’t see where exactly they ended with his field of vision limited to ten, maybe fifteen feet at most. So Jon wasn’t kidnapped. That was something.

Right. He should go make dinner.

It wasn’t the plan, but they could eat first. Jon would probably be back soon, and he imagined swimming was physically taxing no matter what form the man took.

Air filled his nostrils and his shoulders went slack. A few minutes to breathe and let himself calm down in the night air would do him good after all the pointless worrying he accomplished that day. He sat on the top step, damp seeping through his clothes from the wooden porch. It wasn’t as cold as he expected it to be, especially after the walk down. It was almost pleasant.

He leaned forward to rest his forearms on his legs and tried looking up at the overcast sky and saw nothing at all. He breathed in, and out, and the remaining panic seeped out of him on the exhale.

Jon wasn’t in the living room, waiting to listen to Martin’s slapdash presentation on why he would be better off anywhere else. Why would he be where Martin expected? What reason did the universe have to follow Martin’s stupid little notes?

What plans could he possibly put into motion? The world moved without him, and as he looked up, time didn’t seem to move at all. The clouds didn’t move across the sky, backlit by the moon. It was just the grey, the mist, the fog. Not the kind that pushed him to Simon’s house of threats and mockery. This was Martin’s home, where the air burned his lungs until he was clean.

He wondered idly whether he would be entirely smoothed out from the inside if he stayed there long enough. He didn’t think so. His mother had come out so often for so long and, well, he didn’t know what was in her head. He didn’t know her at all. But she never became smooth and calm from sitting in the night. The cold was too much and she had been so sensitive to it.

But he was younger, and stronger, and she had run off somewhere he couldn’t. Wherever Jon had run off to. How much later was it? Certainly late enough to assume the best. Now he didn’t have to put effort into dinner, or argue with himself. Jon made the right choice, thankfully. He was a smart man, a smart and funny man who was nice enough to keep Martin company in the days after his mother left.

When did the breaths stop burning? He wanted to be angry about her being right, but it wouldn’t do anything. It wasn’t as if he was going to shout, or get up and stomp around like a child.

How much would it take to skip ahead and find out if Tim or Sasha could save the day? Could he sit there until the time came? Would they come to see him? To say goodbye? Would Jon go to them when it was safe? He hoped so. They must’ve been so worried about Jon those long weeks while Martin assumed the worst in his well of self-pity. And Tim didn’t need another missing person in Jon.

His shoulders began to shake. He wasn’t laughing, or crying, all the moisture on his face coming from the air and sticking to him like dust. It clung to his glasses now, and dark shapes slipped away from focus beyond the lenses. It was disorienting, and he frowned, trying to blink away the images.

They refused, coming just a bit more into focus and merging together into one mass, moving his shoulders with a force that threatened to push him onto his back if they let loose their grip-

“-k at me, okay? Did something happen? Can you- no, he can’t, of course he can’t, shit-” Something cold rested on Martin’s face. “Okay, since you’re sitting up you might be able to stand? No, that’s stupid, I’m not nearly strong enough to pull him onto his feet. Um-”

Martin blinked hard, a droplet of water slipping into his eye at the wrong time. Instinctively, he reached up to rub it and bumped against a bony hand that had been pressed against his cheek. Before him, Jon jumped at the sudden movement and released Martin, bag and seal skin nearly slipping from their place around his shoulders.

Looking around, Martin found himself completely soaked and surrounded by new puddles on the ground. His loose ponytail sagged under its new weight, hair tie pulling double-duty to keep things together. Above him, clouds drifted past a thin sliver of moon.

His mouth felt oddly dry as he tried to speak. “What’s going on-”

“I’d like to know the same thing, but first-” Jon stood from his kneeling position and tugged Martin up by the elbow. “-we need to get you inside. For once I’m better equipped for the weather.”

Martin looked down at his jumper that worked wonders for layering and not much else. A shiver ran through him like a breath released. “Oh. Yeah, okay.”

Keeping a hand on Martin’s arm, Jon led him out of the cold.

#breathe in the salt #tma #the magnus archives #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #jonmartin #selkie au

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cheri-translates · 3 years ago

Text

[CN] Shaw’s 2021 Birthday R&S

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an R&S which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Knowledge of Shaw’s 2020 Birthday R&S is highly recommended before reading this!

[ This R&S was released on 16 June 2021 ]

[ Chapter One ]

This is the fifth month that Shaw is learning how to skateboard. The little buddies who started out with him had given up one after the other because they couldn’t endure the bitter taste of tripping and falling. In the end, he’s the only one left.

The wheels grate against the ground in a regular rhythm. Leaping over the obstacle, it makes a swerve, accelerates, and flips... the skateboard is lithe and graceful beneath Shaw’s feet, akin to a reed leaf as it brings him into the largest skatepark in Loveland City with a wilful rush.

“Shaw! Shaw!”

Shaw halts the skateboard and turns around.

A little fatty with a band-aid on his knee walks over, smiling and revealing his missing front teeth. “Finally found you.”

Shaw laughs scornfully. “Why’s a defeated opponent looking for me? Do you want to lose the remaining half of your front teeth?”

“You!” Little Fatty flushes red in an instant. He straightens his neck and points to an area behind him. “I’m not competing with you. Someone else wants to!”

Shaw looks in the direction of his finger. A boy who is obviously taller than him by a head smiles at him, the skateboard beneath his feet sliding back and forth. At a glance, it’s clear that he’s experienced.

“My Bro Zhou is in the Loveland City Qing Xun Team,” Little Fatty hugs his arms with pride, as though he’s the one in the team. “So? Dare to accept it?”

So that’s how it is. He’s a scaredy cat who only dares to call in reinforcements.

Shaw purses his lips. He steps on the tail of the skateboard, and it responds by flipping upwards, the the edge of the board landing steadily in his palm. “Why not? What are we competing in?”

Bro Zhou shrugs. “I won’t make things hard for newbies. We’ll compete in tic-tacs and going over obstacles. How’s that?”

“Sure.”

[Trivia] Tic-tacs are a series of consecutive heelside-to-toeside kickturns where your feet remain on the skateboard. I copied this from Google and have no idea what it means LOL

THUD-

Losing his balance for just a moment, Shaw falls heavily onto the ground. His knees, elbows... waves of pain bloom on every joint. It isn’t a good feeling, but what makes Shaw even more frustrated is the arrogant laughter of Little Fatty. t’s even noisier than the cicadas from afar.

“HAHAHAHA Shaw lost! Let’s see if you still have the guts to be proud!”

He has a lot to say despite being a noob. Shaw rolls his eyes. Enduring the pain, he’s just about to lift himself up by the elbows when Bro Zhou walks over to him, offering him a hand. “Not bad.”

“Thanks.”

The other party continues. “But at your age, it’s best to stick to the basics. There’s no hurry to learn high difficulty moves like the dolphin flip. You’ll definitely fall.”

Shaw’s expression immediately turns cold. “I don’t need your pointers on what I can learn at whatever age.” He doesn’t touch the hand, standing up by himself. Lifting his head, he gives the other party a look over. “Do you come here often?”

“The Qing Xun Team practises here every day.”

“Okay. Next time, I’ll definitely win against you.”

Shaw doesn’t bother about the expressions on Bro Zhou’s and the Little Fatty’s faces after hearing his words. He casually pats off the dust on his body, picks up the skateboard which is flipped over on the floor, and leaves the skatepark.

[ Chapter Two ]

The moment Shaw enters through the doors of the antique store, the Old Man’s uproar begins. “Little Ancestor, did you wreck havoc in the Heavenly Palace again?”

[Note] Here, the Old Man calls Shaw “小祖宗”, which literally means “Little Ancestor”. This term is used in an affectionate way to address a naughty child

“Wrecking havoc in the Heavenly Palace” is a reference to a novel called Journey to the West (西游记), which features a troublemaking Monkey King Sun Wukong

“I’m hungry. What’s there to eat today?” Shaw doesn’t respond to the shopkeeper’s words. Placing his bag and skateboard behind the counter, he reaches out to play with the silly parrot at the entrance - it’s truly silly. Even after teaching it for a month, it can’t even say “welcome to the shop”. It causes Shaw to wonder if the Old Man was perhaps duped of his money once again.

“All you know how to do is eat...” The Old Man sets down the ancient text in his hands and props up his presbyopic glasses. “Old Qian from next door boiled chicken soup today and is giving us half. I’ll stir-fry two dishes. You can ask if the chicken soup is ready.”

Shaw makes an “mm” of acknowledgement, then turns around and heads next door.

The shopkeeper gets up and takes a few steps towards the kitchen. Then, he abruptly returns to the counter, reaching out to touch the coarse scratch marks at the edge of the skateboard. Inexplicably, he sighs.

The chicken soup is a little bland, and the stir-fried dishes are a little salty. Mixing and eating them together is just nice. Shaw lowers his head and pushes rice into his mouth with chopsticks. In his left ear, he hears the news of how the GDP of Loveland City has risen. In his right ear, he hears the nagging of his mentor:

“...I’m not discouraging you from playing with this thing. It’s good to toughen yourself up while you’re young and your bones and muscles are sturdy. But don’t be too rash. This... this thing of yours...”

“Skateboard.” Shaw speaks.

“Yes, skateboard. I remember that it’s only been a month since it was bought, and it’s already tormented to such a state. You have such an impulsive temperament. You should be more level-headed.”

What does this have to do with temperament? If I were to truly be impulsive, I wouldn’t need a month. Just three days would be enough to break a skateboard. Shaw looks at the chicken leg in his bowl, not saying these words aloud.

“Also, remember to report to the shop early tomorrow. Old Qian and I are preparing to head to the neighbouring city to look for goods. You should come along to broaden your horizons.” The shopkeeper taps his chopsticks against the rim of the bowl, signalling for Shaw to pay more attention. “Isn’t it your birthday tomorrow? I could pick out a gift for you! Sigh, I actually had my eye on an agate snuff bottle, but the guy suddenly decided not to sell it...”

“I’m not going tomorrow.” Shaw interrupts the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper furrows his brows. “Why are you throwing a tantrum?”

“I’m not. I have proper business to attend to tomorrow. The school organised a visit to the museum.” Shaw lifts his eyes, and his thin lips curve upwards. “The things I see there will be much more valuable than those trivial things you fiddle with.”

“You little rascal!”

Shaw laughs, wedging the chicken leg between his chopsticks and sending it into his mentor’s bowl. “I’m full, so I’m heading to the back to do my homework. Chicken legs are really nutritious, so you should have it.”

“Tsk tsk, and you still said you weren’t throwing a tantrum. You aren’t going home again?”

“I don’t want to go back today. I’ll definitely go back tomorrow.” Shaw has already walked to the entrance. He suddenly thinks of something, and turns his head to ask a question. “Mentor, your shop will always be open, right?”

These words came out of nowhere, and the shopkeeper isn’t able to comprehend them. “What?”

“Nothing much. I’m just worried that I won’t have a place to have dinner if an old man like you were to throw in the towel someday.”

The shopkeeper fumes with a glare. “What do you mean by that? You only care about the food? Also, my shop can continue running for a decade or two. I’m still waiting for you to bring back a disciple or a wife to serve me tea!”

Shaw lets out an “oh”, and his eyes crinkle. “In that case, you’ll have to wait for another twenty or thirty years.”

The eyesight of the shopkeeper is no longer as good as before, but he can clearly see that the smile of this child didn’t reach his eyes. After Shaw leaves, he suddenly recalls the fortune that he drew for Shaw half a year ago: “What awaits this catastrophe is a new beginning...”

This child is will meet his predestined fate this year, so what’s left is to see how he endures through it. The shopkeeper shakes his head, sighing once again.

[Note] The actual fortune is “河图数九，洛书数七，脐于九陵，七日来复” but I don’t have the energy to explain it so what I’ve translated above is the overall meaning :>

[ Chapter Three ]

When Shaw awakens on the next day, the shopkeeper has already left to inspect the goods. The shop is empty, and he’s the only one left.

Westmoon Street is lined with old houses, and there’s no soundproofing. Lying on the bed, Shaw can hear the chirping of birds outside the window, the yelling of people on the street, and the babble of the Chinese opera from the old bookstore next door: “I’m just like a caged bird with wings that can’t be outstretched. I’m just like a shallow water dragon trapped on a beach...”

Shaw rubs his face, then sits up on the bed.

The school had set the assembling time to be 9am. Heading out now will give him more than enough time. Shaw quickly washes his face and rinses his mouth. Just as he walks towards the front counter with some rice grains from the kitchen for the parrot to eat, he suddenly discovers that there’s something on the counter.

Walking over, Shaw sees that there’s a cake box as well as a t-shirt which has been washed clean.

There’s a slip of paper on the shirt. The strokes are clean and thin. At a glance, he knows that this is the Old Man’s handwriting: You need energy and drive to participate in the school activity. Don’t wear yesterday’s dirty clothes. Change into this.

The shirt look slightly familiar. He probably changed out of it one day and forgot about it, leaving it in the antique shop. Shaw pays it no mind, turning his head to that small cake once again. The various calligraphy and writings in the antique store are considered relatively charming. Yet, why does he always buy such unsophisticated cakes?

When his classmates celebrate their birthdays, what they eat are high quality custom-made cakes - red velvet, matcha crepe, chocolate molten lava... such a traditional longevity cake is probably found only in a place like Westmoon Street. It’s clear from the light red and light green colours that the embellishments on the cake were made by hand. Eating it would definitely dye his tongue. If he were to speak later, wouldn’t he get laughed at by his classmates?

Shaw bunches up his brows, but the fork in his hand doesn’t stop. The cream is plant-based and tastes bad. He eats a small egg shell at the base of the cake and it tastes bad. The “Happy Birthday” was written using peach jam, and it tastes really bad.

The silly parrot at the side tilts its head, watching as the boy eats mouthfuls while shunning it with every bite, finishing the cake entirely.

Shaw wipes his mouth, then rinses it with the barley tea on the table. Picking up that t-shirt, he returns into the house and changes his clothes.

[ Chapter Four ]

“...this ‘Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent’ depicts four famous scholars enjoying themselves. Students, do you know who the Seven Sages of the bamboo forest are?”

[Trivia] If you’re interested in seeing the actual painting, search for “高逸图” (“gao yi tu”)

“It’s such a waste that you didn’t watch yesterday’s episode. That scene where the main lead destroyed the opponent like a boss is unparalleled!”

“Aside from the both of us, did anyone else have fun at Anime City?”

“Are you done with the math homework? Lend it to me - I’ll find a place to copy it.”

...

The question posed by the museum guide is drowned out amidst the laughing and frolicking of the kids. He forces a smile while shaking his head. All of a sudden, he notices that a boy with bluish purple hair isn’t the same as the other kids. He’s staring at an ancient painting in the showcase, lost in thought.

As though seeing a saviour, the guide quickly points at him. “Student, why don’t you give me an answer? It’s fine even if you get it wrong. Uncle will explain to you!”

“...” Shaw turns his head, opening his mouth to say some words, but his voice doesn’t reach the guide’s ears.

“Student, what did you say?” The guide raises his volume.

“I said that the four people in ‘Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent’ are Shan Tao, Wang Jie, Liu Ling and Ruan Ji.” Shaw’s face is pretty much expressionless, and there aren't many fluctuations in his tone. “The one sitting down with his hands on his knees at the far right is Shan Tao. The one holding the ruyi sceptre is Wang Tao. The one next to him and drinking wine is Liu Ling. A boy is serving him. The one at the far left needs no mention - he’s the first of the Sages, Ruan Ji. So this painting is missing Ji Tang, Xiang Xiu and Ruan Xian.”

“...”

The surroundings gradually quieten down, and only Shaw’s voice echoes in front of the showcase.

"The scholars in this painting evoke a refined and tasteful sentiment, and the lines are beautiful. This is an extremely precious treasure in the realm of silk scrolls. This is why the ‘Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent’ has always been kept in the royal palace. It’s a pity that in order for our predecessors to avoid taboos, only Si Ma Zhong’s inscription is left on it.”

The youth lifts his chin, shooting a playful smile at the guide. “Okay Uncle, you can explain the next museum piece now.”

“Shaw, you’re incredible!” His classmates flock over to him, bumping him on the shoulders. “You were staring at that painting for such a long time. Did you memorise the words on the museum label?”

“Tch. These’s no need to memorise the museum labels for such things. You’ll know it from a glance.” Shaw laughs. “Also, I wasn��t looking at this painting...” When he says this, he pauses for a moment, swallowing his words.

If he wasn’t looking at this painting, which one was he looking at? The students follow Shaw’s gaze, and realise that there’s a floral painting hanging next to the “Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent”.

“Painting of a Courtyard and Dayliles”, Northern Song Dynasty, Xuan He Imperial Art Academy, anonymous... The students read the explanatory note on the museum label.

[Trivia] If you’re interested in seeing the actual painting, search for “霜庭萱草图” (“shuang ting xuan cao tu”)

The painting seems to depict a corner of a courtyard. A few daylilies display the patterns on their leaves. One big and one small dragonfly are perched on the flower. Aside from that, there isn’t anything else interesting about it. This painting doesn’t seem to have a name or seal, neither does it have a detailed explanation. Even the guide skipped past it. Since it isn’t a rare and precious ancient painting, what exactly was Shaw looking at?

His classmates are a little puzzled.

[ Chapter Five ]

All the classes assemble in lines at the entrance of the museum. The teacher very patiently reminds the students not to forget to do their homework over the weekend, and to remember to write down their reflections about the museum. The students drawl out “got it”, but their hearts have long since flown a million miles away, ready to keep toys and snacks company.

“Shaw!” After dispersing, Shaw’s classmates wave at him.

Shaw walks over. “What’s up?”

“All of us know that you aren’t in a good mood because you lost to a senior in skateboarding yesterday. Isn’t it your birthday? Bro Lu bought the newest game, so let’s head over to play at his place.” His classmate smiles while putting an arm around his shoulder.

“Who told you that I lost yesterday?” Shaw speaks coldly.

“Who else but Fatty? He was so proud yesterday.” The classmate gives Shaw a pat. “Relax, we’re on your side. Don’t think about these unhappy things. Next time, we’ll have lots of opportunities to get revenge...”

“If I wanted revenge, I wouldn’t wait till next time.” Shaw purses his lips. “I’m heading to the skatepark now. You guys coming?”

Since it’s the weekend, quite a number of skateboard hobbyists are already practising by the time Shaw reaches the skatepark. Very quickly, he locates Bro Zhou from yesterday.

Shaw gets straight to the point. “I lost yesterday. Today, I want to have a race with you. Do you accept?”

A hint of shock is in Bro Zhou’s eyes. He has probably never met a kid who is this unwilling to lose. “You fell so badly yesterday but still want to compete with me? You should practise more!”

“There’s no need to practise more when competing with you,” Shaw says.

With this, Bro Zhou’s temper starts to flare. He tilts his chin. “Fine, come on. Just don’t cry if you fall and break your arm today.”

A short while later, the news of how a “junior high school newbie dared to challenge Bro Zhou from the Qing Xun Team” spreads throughout the skatepark. Everyone gathers at both sides of the race course, curiously sizing up the main lead for today.

“S-Shaw...” His classmate pulls on Shaw’s arm. Looking at the deep bowl in front, he gulps. “Are you sure you’re competing with him in this? It won’t be good news if you fall!”

“If I want to play, of course I’ll only play the fun stuff. Just watch.”

Shaw walks to the starting line and takes a deep breath. When moving his limbs, his hand subconsciously touches the hem of the t-shirt - there’s a small Chinese trumpet vine. The green leaves and red petals cover the hole which was originally on the shirt. It’s just that the stitches are crooked, and it’s incredibly crude. At a glance, it’s clear that it wasn’t sewn by someone familiar with needlework.

[Fun fact] Chinese trumpet vine is 凌霄花 (“ling xiao hua”)

Shaw’s name in CN is 凌肖 (“ling xiao”)

Mentor is the best <3

He bites his lower lip.

The referee raises both hands. “The old rules apply. After getting past the Cola can obstacles, cross the bowl. The first person who reaches the goal will win. Ready... go!”

In the midst of a clamour, a bluish purple light rushes forward, taking the lead.

[ Chapter Six ]

The friction of wheels against the ground results in ear-piercing screeches. The skateboard brings Shaw forward at a high speed, and the cold strong wind accompanies the summer heat waves, brushing past his cheeks. The upright Cola cans aren’t enough to faze him. With the continuous twisting of his waist and a skateboard which moves naturally like flowing water, he and his opponent seem to bypass the obstacles comprising of twelve Cola cans at the same time-

There are three consecutive rows of Cola can structures in front of him. He has to use all sorts of techniques to jump over them. That way, he can rush down the bowl, and enter the final stage.

The arm he injured from the fall yesterday is still aching faintly. His feet seem to be protesting as well. He successfully jumps over the first row, the second row... Shaw holds his breath. He steps on the tail of the skateboard with his left foot. Gravity takes over quickly, and his right foot causes the skateboard to rise. The skateboard beneath his feet is akin to a flying fish jumping out of the water surface, creating a rotating arc above the Cola cans!

“It’s a dolphin flip!” Members of the audience exclaim.

Clack! Shaw’s shoulders wobble slightly when his feet return to the skateboard. When he finally stands steadily, he continues rushing forward. The final bowl is right in front of him.

The moment the skateboard dives downwards, Shaw feels a brief moment of weightlessness. This feeling is reminiscent of being thrown out of the entire world, making one want to continue falling like this until they plummet into the bottom of the swamp. The deep bowl is like the trough he’s currently going through. If he’s unable to climb out of the trough, he will drown in hatred, anger, powerlessness, disappointment... and lose to that weak heart of his.

But he’s Shaw, and he won’t lose just like that.

With a rapid dash, he soars upwards without trouble - underneath the brilliant blazing sun, the youth leaps out of the bowl!

After flying out of the bowl, the inertia causes Shaw to stumble a few steps. He falls onto the ground, lying on his back while pressing the finish line.

At the same time, he hears a dull thud from the bowl - his opponent had fallen back into it.

“Shaw won!” “Shaw reached the goal first!” “That rascal actually won against Bro Zhou?” “This competition was so awesome!” ...all sorts of voices emerge in the surroundings in a disorderly fashion, and a set of footsteps walk towards him.

“Your name’s Shaw?” A masculine voice asks from above his head.

Shaw doesn't speak.

“I’m Coach Wang from Loveland City’s Qing Xun Skateboarding Team,” that voice continues. “I see that you have lots of talent, and will make a good young successor. Are you interested in joining the Qing Xun Team?”

While saying this, a registration form is handed to him.

The late afternoon sun illuminates the sheet of paper, reflecting a glaring light akin to snow. Shaw takes one look at the registration form, then shifts his lips slightly. “I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“My shirt’s really expensive, so it isn’t worth tearing them.”

The coach is rendered speechless.

Just as he’s about to say a few more words to persuade the kid, he suddenly spots the small flower at the corner of Shaw’s shirt from his periphery - this is clearly not an expensive t-shirt. These days, few shirts are mended using embroidery. And the fact that he’s willing to wear it despite the clumsy embroidery...

This kid has family members whom he cares very much about. The coach seems to understand this. His lips open and shut, and he swallows back the lines he prepared. In the end, he simply says, “...that dolphin flip you did earlier wasn’t bad.”

“Of course.”

The coach laughs as he leaves. Amidst the cheers from the surroundings, Shaw lies on the ground. Covering his eyes with his hand, he laughs.

“I won. Happy birthday to me.”

🛹 Shaw’s Date Prologue: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc shaw

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purplesurveys · 2 years ago

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1531

How many friends do you have on Facebook?: I have 698. It hasn’t changed so much from the last time I recall answering this question lol; I tend to be wary of people I add on there, even among people I know.

What was on the last sandwich you ate?: Fried chicken, shredded cabbage, tomatoes.

What sort of music did you listen to when you were in high school?: It was largely punk rock at the start but evolved towards indie and synth pop by the end of my time in high school, largely from the influence of my friends.

Do you prefer gold or silver jewellery?: Silver. Never have been a big fan of gold jewelry so far.

Have you ever gotten back together with an ex?: I have. We also broke up the second time around but not til like four years later.

How far away is the closest store to your house and what is it?: Around 4 kilometers, which is the distance from our house to the entrance of the village/subdivision. There are so many stores and restaurants the moment you step outside hahaha.

What is your favourite Thai dish?: Green curry. < Ohohohoho yes this is a goodie. And I’m a sucker for the classic pad thai too.

How many contacts do you have in your phone?: 188 - which is funny to me because I only talk to like 10 people from that list. I really should clean out my contacts soon...

When was the last time you made out with somebody?: Two years ago.

What month of the year was your mother born?: September.

Do you have any friends that seem to know all the hot gossip?: Sure. But this is also considering the fact that Filipinos are naturally gossip-y at their core, lol. Even if I don’t care for most gossip, I’m almost always just one person away from a bunch of updates.

Are there any candles in your bedroom, and what scent are they?: I do have one, yeah. It was actually a Christmas gift from the company; I just don’t use it much because I find the scent a tad weak. It’s vanilla. What tv show(s) have you been watching currently?: I’ve recently been rewatching Friends. Apart from that, I’ve been meaning to start on Extraordinary Attorney Woo but as usual, it takes me forever to get on a new series.

When was the last time you went to a birthday party?: Yesterday. It was a surprise birthday party for one of my uncles, all the way in Laguna. It was a lot of fun and I was happy to see relatives from that side again.

How many apps do you have on your phone?: I don’t feel like counting the exact number but I can tell you I have three pages’ worth of apps.

What pet names do you use with your significant other?: I don’t have a partner.

Do you have to wear a name badge where you work?: No. I work from home anyway, so there’s been no need for this; my name badge is the one that shows up on my Zoom/MS Teams/Google Meets calls hahaha.

Do you have a dress code or have to wear a uniform where you work?: I mean, nothing out of the ordinary (if we do have to have days at the office). It’s just business casual.

What brand is your toaster, if you have one?: We don’t have a toaster and thanks for not readily assuming that everyone has.

Have you ever dated a smoker? If not, would you?: She didn’t smoke too much whenever we were together, at least. I can’t say for the times she’d be out with her friends. I’d say she was a social smoker at best, which is what I would prefer if my next partner did smoke too. I will say that smoking has stopped bothering me as much as it did before; and at the end of the day my bigger worry has always been the smell of the secondhand smoke clinging to me, tbh.

Are there any movies you've seen so many times?: Yeah, definitely me with a few movies like Titanic, The Proposal, White Chicks, Twilight lol.

What was the last thing you purchased with cash?: Gas for my car.

Can you hear anything right now?: The occasional sound of Yoongi speaking, since I have a past Vlive of him on; also my REALLY REALLY loud aircon hahaha.

Is there anybody else in the room you're currently in?: Nope, it’s just me in my room.

What's the name of the store you usually get your groceries?: S&R. Would you rather travel to Japan or Scotland?: I’d rather go back to Japan.

Does your house have a porch/balcony?: We do, yes.

What's your usual order when you go to a coffee shop?: Iced caramel macchiato. I also like anything pastry to go with the coffee.

Have you ever seen a theatre show?: Only school recitals, or shows where my friends/relatives are in. I wouldn’t call myself a fan of theatre and wouldn’t watch a show outside of the two ^ categories.

What was the last movie you saw and who did you watch it with?: Parasite. I finally watched it after two years y’all lmao - I watched the first half alone, but then my sister eventually tagged along with me.

What is your mother's first name?: Abigail.

Do you like to dance?: Yeah. I don’t know how to dance, but I will sway along to the beat of a song I really like.

How would you describe your sense of humour?: It’s what Gen Z would typically refer to as crackhead and dank, lol.

What's your favourite type of bread?: Brioche.

Do you receive catalogues and brochures in your mailbox?: Not really.

What colour is the sky right now?: Gray. Might rain in a few hours since it’s also been offensively humid today.

Do you share a middle name with any of your siblings?: No, we all have different second names. But if you mean maiden name then yeah we share the same.

Have there ever been any bushfires/wildfires in your area?: Nope, not common here.

Have you ever taken a ride in an ambulance?: I have not.

How would you label your sexual orientation?: Ace.

When was the last time you took a nap during the day?: That would have to be last Sunday. I typically would never take naps so I can maximize my free time, but I stayed up super late the night before and just wanted to take that nap lol.

What did you have to eat for dinner last night?: It was the food from the birthday party I went to - we were served a plate of baby back ribs and grilled chicken with rice, with sides of mashed potatoes and corn muffin. We were also given a serving of chocolate mousse after.

Have you ever been a member in a band?: Nope.

Are you double-jointed?: I’m not.

What was the last thing you had to drink?: Coffee.

Do you currently have any bruises on your body?: Nopes, not at the moment.

Who was the last message you received from and what did they say?: “Hahaha true. To be fair, she’s older,” from Reena. Rough translation from Filipino.

What colour are your eyes?: Dark brown.

Can you cry on command? If so, have you ever used it to your advantage?: Not at all, I’ve never had that skill. But I have used crying to my advantage, largely as a kid when I’d have to report low grades to my parents lol. I didn’t cry on command per se because I genuinely did feel shitty every time I failed a test in such; but at the back of my head I also knew crying would get me off the hook to some extent.

Do you consider your goals easily achievable or are they pretty grand?: Some of them are attainable, some of them need money and are less accessible.

What's your favourite kind of accent?: I don’t care much for accents.

What time does the sun go down where you live at this time of the year?: Around 6 PM.

Do you prefer beer, wine or spirits?: Spirits. Beer is fizzy so that’s an automatic no for me; and I just never liked the taste of wine.

When was the last time you ate Mexican food?: The other night when I got a serving of nachos for me and Kaye.

Have you ever watched yourself on video?: Yes.

What time did you wake up today?: 9 AM.

What time will you go to sleep tonight?: I’ll try to stay up as long as I can because it’ll be the last night of my long weekend that I can do so (I get back to work Tuesday), so most likely around 2 or 3 AM.

Do you have separate emails for personal and business?: Yeah. I was given a company email in the first place.

Are you the eldest, youngest or a middle child?: Eldest.

What's your favourite vegetable?: Broccoli and spinach. Asparagus is also great.

What colours are you wearing today?: Purple and white.

Do you have a subscription to any streaming services like Netflix?: Apart from Netflix, I also have a Spotify subscription. YouTube Premium too but I don’t think that counts as streaming. Would you rather eat Italian or Indian food?: Omggggggg Indian in a heartbeat. My favorite cuisine.

Are you sitting, standing or lying down right now?: Sitting.

Have you ever missed a flight?: I haven’t; but I’ve been on the receiving end of delayed flights a handful of times. I don’t mind it as much if I’m stuck in another country because airports almost always have facilities that can keep me from getting bored -- but getting delayed at a provincial airport in the Philippines can be so exhausting lmao. There’s no airconditioning and wifi most of the time and your only source of entertainment are TVs and OOHs that play the same set of ads on loop. Sometimes the signal can even be weak so you wouldn’t be able to use data to kill time on the internet.

Are you someone who always needs a coffee before you can function?: Yeah. I’m considerably more scatterbrained in the morning if I haven’t made my coffee yet.

Do your neighbours have any pets? Have you ever met them?: Most of them have dogs, yes. But I haven’t had the chance to interact with them.

When was the last time you washed your hair?: An hour ago.

What colour is your bedroom door?: Brown.

Have you ever seen a lunar eclipse?: Sure! They are rarely visible where I live so when one is scheduled to take place and we’d be able to see them, I usually don’t want to miss out.

Do you know your significant other's passwords?: I don’t have a partner now but I used to know a password of my ex.

What was the last thing you said aloud?: It’s been a while since I’ve said anything; I’ve been alone in my room for like an hour now haha. Probably me just asking my sister how much of the baked sushi I can get for my share. Do you know anyone who writes huge essays when they message you?: Andi does.

#survey #surveys

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rayofsunas · 4 years ago

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haikyuu!! as dads (pt.1)

A/n: hello! starting off with a clean slate here yay! if some of the first few seem so short and the writing seems different, it’s because I wrote half of this like three days ago- anywways, requests are open btw!!

Summary: haikyuu characters as dads/domestic living.

Pairings: Semi Eita, Bokuto Koutarou, Kuroo Tetsurou, Oikawa Toru, Kenma Kozume

Warnings: some timeskip spoilers, fluff, parenting, angst (kinda) swearing (maybe), crack, all characters are aged up

Word count: 1.8k

Part Two!

Semi Eita

- the serious sometimes scary looking dad, but other than that he’s a fluff ball

- he may look scary but he simply cannot punish them for anything

- especially after they bonded over music, legit cannot do nothing wrong

- on the days he’s not working or with his bandmates, you can often find him with his twin daughters, teaching them how to use different musical instruments

- okay, so your daughters are still pretty young, so they aren’t very good at using most instruments, but for Christmas you and Semi got them both a small set of drums, something easy

- it was very cute to come home from work to see your husband and daughters loudly practicing on the drums

- sure at first it gave you a blasting headache, but after a while you got used to it, and even jammed out with them when you had the time

- mainly just random sounds/beats coming from the two five year olds, but Semi doesn’t mind, he’s willing to teach them and he does proudly

- if one of his daughters or both wants too

- definitely writes songs for his daughters and you

- i can see him writing lullaby’s for them and working on them for hours making sure they were perfect

- lets just say they were perfectly beautiful

- because you went to high school together, the nickname “semi semi” stuck with you (thanks chicken tendo)

- but your girls will also cutely call him “semi semi”

- you often bring them to concerts despite semi saying it’s probably too loud for them

- he’ll let you sit safely with them back stage uwu

- after he runs back to you three and is bombarded with hugs, high-fives and kithes

- YOU’RE ALL SO PROUD OF HIM

Bokuto Koutarou

- bokuto is a hyper dad, which we all saw coming. there is no taking the child out of bo

- i feel like he’d want tons of kids, probably even uses his children as an excuse to act the way he does

- i can see him with a few kids, 3 to be exact (2 boys and 1 girl)

- he likes to be really involved with his children, and gets very sad/emo when he doesn’t see them for short/long periods of time

- for example, the Black Jackals is a whole different game field than high school volleyball and it’s much more time consuming and has him away a lot

- when he does come home and has time off, let’s just say he clings to his children like a puppy

- even after a while THEY get sick of him and wanna ditch him, cue emo bo :(

- if his children gang up on him (which they do) cue emo Bo again :(

- he babies them all, can’t ever say no

- tends to go back on his word lmao

- if your oldest son begs and begs for season tickets to his favorite sports team? Bo KNOWS they can be expensive, and he was even scolded by you, but two hours after saying no, he runs back to his son and gives him the money

- if your daughter wants to get her nails done with a group of friends, he knows she picks out the most expensive polishes, etc, BUT HE DOES NOT CARE, he will gladly give her the money and even go with her to get his nails done

- yes, you heard me

- of course he’ll being chaperone for this girls day, he promises to pretend that he doesn’t know them and keep his distance (sit very far away lol), but after a little while its just hard to contain and he’s screaming to everyone in the salon that his daughter is sitting on the other side of the room eye-

- your youngest son wants an expensive sports car? done

- he just wants to make his family happy, pleaseee

Kuroo Tetsurou

- poor Kuroo, he has 2 daughters and you, so he’s surrounded by girls lol

- he actually doesn’t mind it tbh

- between you and his two daughters, he wouldn’t have it any other way

- just gives him an excuse to be overly protective

- anywhere in public, expect either kuroo holding your hand

- or holding his daughters close to him (piggy back rides, yes)

- or, he stands protectively behind you and your daughters while you talk to someone, sending them threatening glares behind your backs

- he was shy as a child, so it wasn’t surprising when one of his daughters, the youngest, was very very shy

- he doesn’t mind once again, just gives him an excuse to be protective

- although he’s busy, he always makes time for his girls ALWAYS

- definitely a bragger

- if his family is brought into a convo, he pridefully will express how cute and smart his daughters are, may or may not openly declare his daughters are the cutest amongst his co-workers children

- he’s mad intuitive and aware/observant

- kuroo always knows when one or both of his daughters are about to start crying/throw a fit

- cue dad kuroo prepared to crack funny chemistry and or science jokes

- his shy daughter finds him very funny, doubles over every time he cracks a joke and calls him a “silly rooster”

- even when she's older she still laughs and even copies his jokes

- but his other daughter just cringes, every time sigh

- when she was younger she used to fake the laughs, but when he started saying the jokes in public she just stopped reacting, hoping he would stop-

- he didn’t...

- i like to imagine kuroo and kenma staying friends even after high school, and since kenma has hella video games and a whole arcade in his house, he’ll often bring his daughters over to his house

- his eldest daughter loves it at uncle kenma’s house

- cue jealous rooster dad

Oikawa Toru

- okay so oikawa is ALWAYS busy

- isn’t home much, except during off seasons or if he messes up his knee again (yes, it’ll happen)

- in the event that he’s home due to a knee injury, he’ll wanna be catered too lmaooo

- he doesn’t expect his little girl to cater to him and really only teases you about it

- but his daughter will get him whatever he needs while he’s propped up on the couch

- she admires him so much

- his daughter kinda has a smart mouth-

- definitely got that from him, having picked up on it from a young age, while he was home

- when he was home once propped up with a messed up knee, she went “here dadkawa” as she handed him an ice pack

- he laughs at the nickname, asking you about where it came from later

“she was on call with hajime’s daughter yesterday... hajime asked how ‘poopykawa’ was doing”

- he just rolls his eyes, “at least he cleaned it up for her sake” you explained

- will not lose the “kawa” part, so it’s dadkawa lol

- when he’s away, she’s always asking for dadkawa

- when he’s here they're inseparable

- morning breakfast now will be her sitting in his lap instead of yours

- she asks to watch cartoons with him instead of you :(

- bath time consists of her arguing with you as you try to wash her hair, while oikawa sits on the closed toilet seat laughing to himself

- “mommy i want dadkawa to wash my hair!”

- “you always whine that he gets soap in your eyes”

- “I don’t care!”

- when you bring your daughter to games, she’ll be cheering him on proudly, “mommy, look at dadkawa!” “GO DADKAWA!!!!”

- since he plays for the professional Argentine team, i figure you all live in Argentina now, traveling from Argentina and Japan was tiring, so you moved to be closer

- when the news approaches him after or before games, he makes sure to show his daughter off and the whole time it’s his daughter stealing the show

- she might be shy at first, but as long as dadkawa is holding her, she’s fine

- he’ll teach her Spanish, defiantly sings happy birthday to her in Spanish because it’s special

- he calls her his princesa (princess in spanish)

Kenma Kozume

- if his child didn’t enjoy video games like him or any of his hobbies like volleyball, I feel like Kenma would have a hard time with them

- he loves his son yes, but he’d have a hard time interacting with him, especially if he’s not into video games or volleyball

- if he is though, you can often find the two in kenma’s home office, playing games

- when your son was a infant, you would always come home from being out/work to find your son sitting in his pj’s on kenma’s lap watching his dad play video games

- “it’s late, ken. i see he’s already in his pj’s- did you already have dinner?” “yes”

- “without me?” you asked, lifting up your son to give his cheeks kisses. “there’s apple pie in the fridge.”

- eye-

- yes he fed your son that, yes he needs a little guidance, yes he needs to be told apple pie is NOT dinner

- on another occasion of coming home, you found your boys in the same spot, once again playing video games, your sons eyes drifting between the game and his father every time he muttered under his breath

- “the screen is bad for your eyes kenma, and he’s just a baby! he’ll get bad eyes too!”

- kenma’s short answer is, “he won’t”

- when your son got older, and he started getting into video games, it got harder for you to tear his eyes away from the screen

- he’s been around video games his whole life, so of course it’d be hard, you just didn’t think he’d grow attached

- kenma leaves most of the strict parenting to you, because he LEGIT doesn’t NOT know what to say

- he’s lowkey afraid he’ll push his son away if he says the wrong thing, but he’s also worried that if he doesn't say anything, they’ll have no real relationship, so he struggles

- he tries his hardest to bond with him over video games and volleyball though

- as said by your son, kenma’s cooking can’t compare to yours, BUT he does know how to make a yummy apple pie

- his son will help kenma with said apple pie, when he’s younger he was often the taste tester and made a mess every time

- kenma gets nervous in huge crowds and really around anyone he doesn’t know, so if his son is a social butterfly he’ll try to get kenma used to people other than himself and you

- somehow, during the rare moments his son has problems (friends, school etc), kenma will be the one to speak up privately

- he’ll definitely tell his son to surround himself with a good friend/good friends, he also makes sure to let him know the importance of quality over quantity

- he has a brotherly relationship with kuroo, and if not for kuroo he’d be alone, he wants the same thing for his son

10.20.20, rayofsunas

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#semi eita #semi eita x reader #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #oikawa toru #oikawa toru x reader #kenma kozume #kenma kozume x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutaro #bokuto koutarou x reader #rayofsunas

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sanchoyo · 3 years ago

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Good things that have happened this weekend:

1. I managed to call my bank and got an issue sorted out (it was a minor thing and took like, 2 mins to figure out lol) and the ppl at my bank are always super nice and helpful :) (it was a misunderstanding but I originally thought the last job I did didn’t pay me, and the person I talked to was getting heated abt it on my behalf and that was very nice even tho that turned out not to be the issue ahah 😭)

2. I had two different really nice convos with cashiers at stores. With the first person we talked abt loz which. I’ve had on my brain a lot and always love talking abt 😭 and the second one we talked abt fashion which is another topic I love (specifically we were taking abt wacky unique fashion omg they told me they saw someone w little babydoll earrings and I WANT some…)

3. yesterday I got to go to a relatives house and pet and hold some chickens they have and hang out with one of my baby cousins briefly, and that was really fun bc she’s like 5 and was excitedly showing me all her lil toys 😭 the chicks I held were soo small and I could feel their lil heartbeats and I about CRIED. Babies… (I also held their hamster and pet the cat and we saw a lot of cows, donkeys, horses and dogs on the drive there since it’s farm land…and u kno I had my window rolled down screaming joyfully to them all that I love them)

4. today me and my mom tie dyed some shirts and a hoodie and it’s my first time doing that so I’m very excited to see how they turn out!! Hopping they look cool, we just kinda did scrunching instead of actual twisty patterns or anything fancy, but I am excited anyway! It’ll be a few more hours until they’re done but I’m like 👀

5. it’s been warming up here and it’s sooo sunny and nice out today ☺️ I’m so ready and excited for spring!!! My fav season!!!

6. My mom made a delicious pineapple upside down cake and I had it for breakfast and there is no better breakfast than a Cake Slice. But I also made an omelette and had a breakfast for lunch situation and it was just about the most picturesque omelette I have ever made, it was BEAUTIFUL (and tasted very very good)

7. Drinking out of the mug one of my bffs sent me and it’s so cute and the perfect size 🥺 it’s def my new favorite mug ❤️

8. I managed to finish a drawing! Nothing huge or with a bg, but it’s so nice to get over my art block a bit. Going to wait a while to post it since I’d like my latest drawing to be at the top of my art blog for a while, but I’m proud of myself for managing to draw!

#I’m going to try to do weekly gratitude posts like this or just talk more abt things that are Good ❤️#sanchoyorambles #I’d still like to start publishing tm2 sometime in the next month as well but I hit a block w it so I’m letting myself take a few days off #from working on it so I can come back later with a fresh mind 😌

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cherryblossomflowers · 4 years ago

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Her Special Day

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Summary: Jensen wants YN to have an incredible birthday, but when his plans start to fail he's worried he ruined her special day. Luckily, YN is very understanding.

Warnings: Mega Fluff, Slight Cursing, Anxiety/Panic

A/N: Happy Birthday @mlovesstories I hope your day is filled with laughter and joy. Here's a little something from me. (I also had to add a JA gif from yesterday, lol) Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!

***ASK OPEN***

*LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED*

Cherry Blossom One-Shot Masterlist

As he pulled into his driveway, Jensen looked down at the clock on his radio, "Okay, she should be here in about an hour. That's plenty of time to get everything set up."

Today was YN's birthday and Jensen was determined to make it an unforgettable one. After all, the two have been dating for 3 years now.

And Jensen believed it was time to take that next step.

Early that morning, he called a local flower shop to deliver a bouquet of roses to YN's office as a surprise for her birthday. Then he made a plan and got ready for the day.

His first stop was the jewelry store in town. It took some time to find the perfect diamond, but after 3 hours of careful looking, he had found it.

He didn't even flinch at the price when he swiped his credit card, especially since YN's happiness was worth more to him than any amount of money he ever had.

His next stop was the floral shop that he had the roses delivered from. He decided to buy a couple more bouquets of roses and use the petals as a romantic decoration around the house.

Finally he popped into the grocery store to pick up ingredients for YN's favorite meal: chicken parmesan. He also grabbed a chocolate cake mix, frosting, and candles, deciding that a semi-homemade birthday cake was better than having someone else make it in a bakery.

After he purchased everything, Jensen climbed back in his truck and drove to his house. He pulled into the driveway, checked the time, and got to work.

Jensen managed to get everything inside, including the ring, and into the kitchen before setting up a plan of action, "First things first: I need to get that cake made so it has time to cool. Then I need to get everything decorated. I should probably get dinner at least put together while the cake bakes."

In his entire life, Jensen had never been this nervous. He wanted YN's special day to be memorable, but he also needed this proposal to be perfect. She was the love of his life and he wanted her to always be happy.

So everything had to go right and be perfect.

After a half hour of mixing ingredients, Jensen popped the cake in the oven and got to work preparing dinner. Since he's made chicken parmesan several times over the years, mainly at YN's request, it was second nature to him.

He set the dish aside and started decorating the living room and kitchen for YN's birthday. He put one bouquet of roses in a vase and set them on the counter, then he set the table for himself and YN.

A little while later, the timer for the cake went off and he pulled the pans out of the oven. He set them on the cooling rack and slipped the chicken parmesan into the oven.

As he was cleaning up the kitchen, his phone started to ring on the counter. He picked it up and saw the picture from his and YN's first date at the water park.

He smiled as he answered, "Why hello, birthday girl."

Her giggle on the other end made his heart skip a beat, "Hello, love. Guess who got off work a half hour early?"

Jensen pulled back his phone and noticed the time, "O-oh, wow that’s...great," he had to think of something to keep her busy a bit longer, "Um, hey why don't you stop by the store a grab a bottle of wine? I spaced getting it when I was at the store earlier."

"But don't you have like rows and rows of wine in your house?"

"Y-yeah, I do. But I want you to have your favorite and we drank the last of it a week ago."

"Oh, uh, okay then. Sure, I'll stop by the store. Is there anything else I could grab?"

"Nope, that should be it. I'll see you in a bit my love," Jensen sighed in relief.

"I love you, Jay."

"Love you, too," he hung up and set his phone back on the counter, "Great, that bought me some time, but not a lot."

After grabbing the ring box from the kitchen counter, he jogged into the bedroom and swung open his closet. He looked around until he spotted the royal blue dress shirt that happened to be YN's favorite on him. He also grabbed his black slacks and dress shoes to match.

He set the ring on the nightstand by his side of the bed and changed rather quickly before walking into the bathroom to fix his hair, spray some cologne, and make sure he looked as handsome as the first time YN fell in love with him.

He took a long look at himself in the mirror and sighed, "You're all right. You can do this. You're Jensen Ross Ackles. Just a simple question: will you marry me? It's not that difficult. Just take a deep breath and relax."

He walked out of the bedroom and back towards the kitchen. As he stepped into the kitchen, he heard YN's car pulling into the driveway and he panicked.

"Shit!" he whispered, "Nothing’s ready. What do I do?"

He had to think quick on his feet, so he bolted out the front door and over to YN's car. He yanked open her driver door, which startled her.

"Jeez, Jay. Are you trying to scare me to death?" YN sighed.

"N-no, sorry. I...um..." he trailed off, trying to figure out what to say.

YN stepped out of the car and shook the bottle in her hand, "I got the wine."

"Oh, right," Jensen nodded, "I'm sorry I scared you."

"It's okay, love," she kissed his cheek, "Let's go inside and chill. I had a long day and I just want to have a nice relaxing evening with my love," she started walking towards the house.

Jensen panicked, "YN, wait!"

"What for?" she turned to him, "Awe, are you wearing that shirt because it's my birthday? Or just because it's my favorite?"

"Both, I guess," he walked up to her, "But you can't go inside."

YN rolled her eyes and smiled, "Why not?"

"Because...because..." Jensen stood behind her and covered her eyes, "It's a surprise! No peeking, okay?"

"Okay," she chuckled, "You know I'm not one for surprises, Jay."

"I know, but...trust me," he breathed, "This is a good surprise."

He kept his hands covering YN's eyes as they walked into his house. He guided her away from the kitchen and living room and towards his bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind himself, took his hands off YN's eyes, and spun her around to look at him.

"Whoa, okay. Now that I can see, what do you have up your sleeve, Jensen?" YN asked.

"Whatever do you mean, my love?" Jensen smiled, "Now, why don't you get out of your work clothes and take a long, hot bath?"

YN sighed, "That does sound nice."

"And while you do so, I'll get dinner ready."

"What's for dinner?"

"Your favorite."

YN smiled, "You're the best."

Jensen turned her around and walked her towards the bathroom, "I'll take that title for sure, but since it's your special day, I think you should take it back. All I've done is put chicken and sauce in a pan. You, m'lady," he kissed her cheek, "do more for me everyday just by breathing."

YN sighed in content, "You're going to be the death of me, Ackles."

"I love you, too," he smiled, "Now, go take a bath and meet me in the kitchen when you're done. Take as long as you need."

YN nodded as she walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind herself. Jensen let out a long sigh of relief as he walked out of the bedroom and back to the kitchen.

The cake had to be cool enough to ice by now, so he took them out of the pans and layered them on a plate. He grabbed the frosting and a spatula, and got to work on the cake. It wasn't the prettiest thing in the world, but Jensen made it himself.

He added the candles to the top then stood back to look at his handy work, "Not bad, Ackles. Not bad at all."

After setting the cake on the counter next to the vase of roses, he walked over to the dining table, picked up the last bouquet, and started pulling off the flower petals. He scattered them around the dining table then started walking back towards the bedroom while scattering more petals as a path.

When he reached the bedroom, he could hear YN's music coming from the bathroom. He smiled as he thought of how the rest of the night was going to go.

First, she'd walk out of the bathroom, her towel around her body and hair, and relaxed from her long soak. Then she'd get dressed and notice the rose petals around her feet. She'd walk out of the bedroom, down the hallway, and towards the kitchen. She'd see dinner on the table, her birthday cake, and more roses waiting for her.

And Jensen would be there, knelt down on one knee with the ring in his hand. He'd pop the question, she'd say yes (hopefully), and they'd live happily ever after.

It was perfect. Well, hopefully it would be that perfect.

Suddenly, a beeping could be heard coming from the kitchen and Jensen could smell smoke. He went into a panic as he ran out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen.

He abruptly came to a halt when he saw black smoke pouring out of the oven, "Shit! I forgot to set a timer for dinner!"

He ran into the kitchen and pulled the oven open, causing more smoke to pour out of it. He blindly reached around for something to douse the small fire and rolling black smoke.

Unfortunately that thing happened to be the vase of roses. He grabbed it and tossed it on to the flame, which ruined the flowers but extinguished the fire.

When he realized what he had done, he felt himself panic more, "Oh, no. No, no, no. This is bad. The flowers...dinner...they're both ruined."

He took a few steps back from the oven, trying to figure out a quick plan to fix this. When he moved backwards, he ended up bumping into the cake and knocking it to the ground.

He whipped around and gasped at the sight, "No! Not the cake too! What am I going to do now?!"

Just then, he heard the bedroom door squeak open and footsteps approaching the kitchen.

"Hey, uh, Jay?" YN's voice echoed in his head, "Do you, um, do you want to tell me what this is that was sitting by your side of the bed? And why there are rose petals all over the floor?"

She walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, but paused when she saw the devastating sight in front of her.

There was Jensen on his hands and knees trying to somehow salvage the cake that had dropped. YN took a few steps towards him before he looked up at her with tears in his eyes.

She gasped when she saw his face, "Jensen? Honey, what happened?"

Jensen wiped his eyes, "I-I messed everything up. The chicken parmesan is burnt to a crisp, the flowers went up in flames, a-and I knocked over the cake," then he noticed the box in her hand, "Oh, no. Y-you didn't...open that did you?"

"No, not yet," YN shook her head, "I assumed it was a birthday gift that you wanted me to open with you."

He sighed, "Well, the entire night is ruined anyway. You might as well open it."

She glanced down at the box then back at Jensen, "Honey, the night isn't ruined. So dinner got a little burnt and the cake is on the ground and the flowers are toast. So what?" she knelt down next to him, "It doesn't matter."

He blinked up at her, "But your birthday-"

"Is just another day, love," she interrupted him, "You could've just popped in a movie, ordered a pizza, and we could have cuddled up on the couch. Just the fact that you tried to hard to make it perfect let's me know how much you really care about me. I love you so much."

Jensen smiled, "I love you, too, YN. And I'm sorry about all of this."

"Don't worry about it," she kissed him, "How about I help you clean up all of this then we'll watch a movie, drink some wine and relax?"

"I like that idea," he nodded, "I'll handle the cake if you want to try and get the pan of food out of the oven."

YN and Jensen stood from the floor and got to work. After YN placed the ring box on the counter, she walked over to the oven, grabbed potholders, and pulled out the dish. She placed it in the sink and started running water on it to cool it down enough to clean it.

Meanwhile, Jensen pulled the trashcan over to start cleaning the cake off the floor. He grabbed cake by the handful and tossed them in the trashcan.

It took roughly a half hour or more to clean up the mess in the kitchen. Jensen and YN had to change their clothes once they finished as Jensen was covered in cake frosting and sweat while YN was covered in burnt chicken parm and soapy water.

Once back in the living room, YN collapsed on the couch with a heavy sigh, "I could use a glass of wine."

Jensen chuckled, "I think I can handle that."

"You sure?" YN asked.

"Hardy har har," he rolled his eyes as he walked into the kitchen, "That was so funny."

He poured two glasses of wine and moved to walk out of the kitchen when the ring box caught his eye. He had completely forgotten about proposing to her after everything had happened.

Jensen grabbed the box and took a breath, "It's now or never."

He walked back into the living room and handed a glass of wine to YN. She took it from him and immediately took a satisfying sip.

"Wow, who knew wine was the key to your happiness," he chuckled as he sat next to her and put his glass on the table.

"Well, not exactly. Just a long day," she sighed and took another sip.

Jensen took a breath and held out the box, "YN, um-"

"Oh, my birthday present," she set the wine glass on the table.

"Sort of," he smirked, "Look, I know that I'm not a perfect guy. I know that I mess up from time to time, and it's mainly from my nerves. Things like tonight, I know it won't be the last time they happen. But out of all the things I know, there is one that tops them all: I know for a fact that I love you and that you love me back."

YN felt tears welling up in her eyes, "Oh, Jay."

"I've done a lot of thinking lately. And I've come to 3 conclusions: 1) I am a huge dork who's dating the most beautiful and amazing woman on the planet. 2) That amazing woman has had me wrapped around her finger from the first moment we locked eyes. And 3) The finger needs a little something more to make it official," Jensen opened the box to reveal the ring.

YN gasped, "Jensen..."

He smiled at her with tears in his eyes, "I love you, YN YLN. Would you do me the incredible honor of becoming Mrs. YN Ackles?"

"Oh my gosh, Jensen. Y-you're being serious, right? This isn't some prank o-or some cruel joke, right?" she was shaking from shock.

"No, baby. This is real. This is 100% real," he took her hand, "So, what do you say?"

YN chuckled, "What do I say? What do you mean 'what do I say'?" she leaned forward and kissed him, "Yes, Jensen, of course I'll marry you."

"Really? Yes?!" Jensen smiled his mega watt smile as he took the ring out and slide it on her finger.

YN took a long look at the ring, "This is gorgeous, honey."

"I couldn't find the exact one that you wanted, but I hope you'll love it just the same," he kissed her hand.

"It's perfect," she reached for her wine glass, "To my handsome fiance. He has his quirks, but he always keeps a smile on my face."

Jensen lifted his own glass, "And to the birthday girl, my gorgeous fiance. There's not a single flaw about her, well maybe except her small phone addiction-"

"Hey, now," YN interrupted him, "I am the owner of a company. I kind of have to be on my phone from time to time."

"But regardless of that," Jensen chuckled, "she's always there for me no matter how clumsy I get."

"To us," YN clinked her glass against Jensen's.

"To the future Mr. and Mrs. Ackles," Jensen nodded.

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

Masterlist

My Cherry Blossoms

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#spn #spn rpf #the boys #supernatural #supernatural rpf #Jensen Ackles #Soldier Boy #Jensen #Jensen x Reader #Jensen Ackles x Reader #cherryblossomstory #happy birthday mlovesstories

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