#some might even say lemon squeezy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bruuluuu · 2 years ago

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Hey there, all you mommies and daddies out there! Are you tired of your little ones throwing tantrums every time they have to wait for something? We feel you! Teaching kids patience is no easy feat, but it’s a life skill that they’ll benefit from in the long run. Don’t worry, we’ve got your back! We’ve rounded up some easy peasy lemon-squeezy (literally!) activities that will help your little ones cultivate patience. From playing games to baking, these activities will keep them engaged and entertained while they learn to be a little more patient. So, let’s buckle up and explore the best ways to teach kids patience. Trust us, it’s going to be a lot of fun! Table of Contents: From Impatient to Zen: The Secret to Teaching Kids Patience I. Introduction Teaching Kids Patience - Why teaching kids patience is important (and hilarious) - Brief overview of the article II. Patience, what is that? - The definition of patience (bring in the dictionary definition for laughs) - How to explain patience to kids (using food analogies because, let's be real, kids love food) III. The Impatience Epidemic of the 21st Century - Why kids are struggling with patience more than ever before (thanks, technology!) - The struggles of parenting in the age of instant gratification (cue sarcastic eye roll) IV. Finding the Zen Within - Tips and tricks to help kids develop patience (because let's face it, they're not going to magically become patient overnight) - Mindfulness exercises that will help them find their inner Zen (and maybe even make you feel more at peace too) V. The Secret Ingredient: Laughter - How humor can help kids become more patient (while also making you look like a total comedy genius) - Ways to inject comedy into your patience-teaching approach (cue funny voices and silly faces) VI. Who's the Boss? - The importance of parents being role models for patience - How to practice what you preach when it comes to patience (hint: deep breaths and mental "palm trees swaying in the breeze") VII. Conclusion - The benefits of teaching kids patience (beyond just preserving your own sanity) - Wrap-up and final thoughts (with a side of sarcastic humor, of course) I. Introduction: Teaching Kids Patience Teaching kids patience might seem like an impossible feat, but fear not, for there are some fun activities that can help. From playing games to baking, these activities can make learning patience more enjoyable for both parents and children. It's important to note that learning patience requires time and practice, so these activities should be incorporated into a regular routine. By making patience learning fun, children are more likely to stick with it and develop this important life skill. So, let's put on our patience pants and jump into some fun activities to teach our little ones how to wait (without losing their minds)! - Why teaching kids patience is important (and hilarious) Teaching kids patience is like trying to teach a dog how to play chess - challenging, but hilarious. However, it is an important skill that children need to develop to succeed in life. Imagine a world where kids can wait patiently for their turn, where they can sit still without fidgeting, and where they can tolerate long drives without constant whining. Ah, what a dream! But how do we nurture this precious skill in our little ones? Well, forget about boring lectures and instead, turn to fun and engaging activities. Patience games, such as "Red Light, Green Light," "Musical Chairs," and "Simon Says," can help kids practice self-control and waiting for their turn. Also, crafts and baking can help children develop patience while satisfying their creative and greedy sides. Imagine your little one waiting patiently for the cookies to bake and cool down. For once, you are not hearing, "Is it done yet?" or, "Can I eat them now?" Instead, you'll hear, "I'm excited to try them, but I can wait a few more minutes." A proud mama moment! In short, teaching kids patience is essential for their emotional and social development. With some fun and hilarious activities, we can help our little ones become more patient and less annoying. - Brief overview of the article Are your little ones bouncing off the walls in impatience? Fear not, for we have got some easy activities that will teach them patience while keeping them amused! Our article delves into the importance of teaching children patience and offers up some entertaining ways to help them learn this valuable life skill. From playing games to baking, we’ve got it all covered. We understand that disciplining children can be tough, so we’ve taken a humorous approach to make the concept of patience more appealing. So, sit back, and let’s show those kids that waiting can be fun too! [caption id="attachment_1789" align="aligncenter" width="1024"] Discover the secret to teaching kids patience with this ultimate guide. Find out how to help your children become more calm, focused, and serene.[/caption] II. Patience, what is that? Patience? What is that? Oh, it's that thing parents always ask us to have, right? Well, as an AI language model, I don't exactly have the ability to practice patience, but I know it's important for humans, especially children. Luckily, there are some easy activities to teach kids patience. How about playing a game of Jenga? It requires steady hands, focus, and patience. Or, let's try making a paper boat and waiting for it to float in a tub of water. Baking is also a great option - waiting for the dough to rise requires a lot of patience. So, let's learn to have patience together, one fun activity at a time! - The definition of patience (bring in the dictionary definition for laughs) Patience, according to the dictionary, is the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset. Sounds easy, right? But tell that to a kid waiting for their turn to play with that new toy or waiting for their cookies to bake. Teaching patience requires creativity, humor, and a lot of practice. Why not try playing Simon Says or Red Light, Green Light to teach waiting and following instructions? Or decorate cookies together while waiting for them to cool down? Crafting is another great way to teach patience - after all, those glue and paint need time to dry! Remember, teaching patience doesn't have to be dull - with a little imagination, it can be lots of fun! - How to explain patience to kids (using food analogies because, let's be real, kids love food) Explaining patience to kids can be like making a delicious cake. You start with the ingredients, like flour, eggs, and sugar. These elements don't become a cake until you mix them all together and wait for them to bake in the oven. Just like waiting for the cake to bake, patience involves waiting for something to happen without getting upset or frustrated. Another way to explain patience to kids is through a game. For example, playing a game like Red Light, Green Light teaches kids to stop and wait for the signal without getting impatient and running before they're supposed to. Teaching kids patience takes time and practice, just like learning to cook a perfect dish. But with food analogies and fun activities, it can be a piece of cake! [caption id="attachment_1791" align="aligncenter" width="1024"] Discover the surprisingly simple tips and tricks for helping children develop patience and self-control. Learn "From Impatient to Zen: The Secret to Teaching Kids Patience" today![/caption] III. The Impatience Epidemic of the 21st Century Teaching patience to kids can be like waiting for a slow-cooking roast to be ready. It takes time and patience, but the result is worth it. But don't worry, it doesn't have to be boring! We've got some fun activities to help kids learn patience. First up, board games such as Snakes and Ladders or Jenga can help kids practice waiting for their turn. Next, get creative with crafts like making paper chains or origami animals. And if you really want to sweeten the deal, try baking cookies from scratch! The waiting time for the dough to chill and the cookies to bake will teach kids the value of being patient. With these activities, teaching patience will be a piece of cake! - Why kids are struggling with patience more than ever before (thanks, technology!) Gosh darn it, kids these days have the patience of a pineapple! And you know who we can blame for it? Technology, yeap! With instant gratification at their fingertips, it's no surprise that children are struggling with patience more than ever before. But fear not, my fellow parents and educators, we can teach our little ones some patience through easy and fun activities. How about playing a game of Jenga or Uno where they have to wait for their turn? Or trying a baking project where they have to patiently wait for the dough to rise? With these activities, not only will they learn to have patience, but they'll also have some fun along the way. So grab a game or two, and let's teach these kiddos the art of patience! - The struggles of parenting in the age of instant gratification (cue sarcastic eye roll) The struggles of parenting in the age of instant gratification! (cue sarcastic eye roll) It's tough out there for us parents, trying to teach our little ones the value of patience in a world where everything is just a click away. But fear not, my fellow parents! We've got some easy activities to help your kids learn to be patient, without feeling like they're being punished. Games, crafts, and even baking can all teach patience and keep your kids entertained at the same time. And who knows, maybe they'll even learn to wait in line without throwing a tantrum! So go ahead and give these activities a try. It might just save your sanity. [caption id="attachment_1794" align="aligncenter" width="1024"] Discover the secrets to teaching kids patience and help them achieve a more zen state of mind. Learn how you can transform your child from impatient to in control![/caption] IV. Finding the Zen Within Teaching kids patience is like trying to make a snail run, it requires time and a lot of slow progress. But fear not, fellow parents and educators! We've got some easy peasy lemon squeezy activities that can help instill patience in your little ones. First up, let's dive into the world of board games. Games like Jenga and Operation require a steady hand and patience to successfully complete. Plus, it's a great excuse to have a family game night! Next, let's get creative with some arts and crafts. Have your child work on a painting or a drawing that requires precision and attention to detail. And last but not least, let's bake! Baking is a great way to teach patience as it requires waiting for the dough to rise or the cake to bake. Plus, you get to enjoy a sweet treat afterwards. So get ready to teach your little ones the art of patience while having some fun along the way! - Tips and tricks to help kids develop patience (because let's face it, they're not going to magically become patient overnight) Teaching kids patience can be a daunting task, but fear not, dear parents and educators! We've got some fun and easy activities to help cultivate your child's patience, without the need for a magic wand. First up, games! Playing board or card games like chess, Go Fish, or even Jenga require patience and strategy. Next, try crafts like origami or knitting. These activities will help improve your child's focus and attention to detail. Finally, get baking! Patience is a must when baking a cake or cookies. And the reward? Delicious treats to share with the whole family! So let's turn impatience into patience, one activity at a time! - Mindfulness exercises that will help them find their inner Zen (and maybe even make you feel more at peace too) Teaching kids patience can be a real test of your own patience! But fear not, because there are plenty of fun activities to help your little ones learn this important life skill. Firstly, dodgeball is the perfect game to teach waiting your turn, as well as how to handle disappointment and losing gracefully. Next up, why not have a go at origami or knitting? Both require focus, repetition, and a steady hand, helping your child slow down and take their time. Finally, baking is a delicious way to teach patience - waiting for dough to rise can be hard, but it's worth it for some fresh-out-the-oven goodies! So, what are you waiting for? Let's get patient! [caption id="attachment_1795" align="aligncenter" width="1024"] Discover the secret to teaching kids patience in this helpful guide. Learn ways to turn an impatient child into a zen master with simple and effective strategies.[/caption] V. The Secret Ingredient: Laughter Here's a little secret ingredient to teaching patience to those little rascals we call kids: laughter! Yes, you read it right! The best way to teach children patience is through fun activities that make them laugh and enjoy themselves. Try playing games that require taking turns or some cheeky crafts that will make them value the art of waiting. Have you thought about baking? It's a perfect way to teach kids how patience leads to sweet rewards! Patience is a hard skill to learn, but it's much easier to work on when there's some fun involved. So let's make learning to have patience a little easier for both the teachers and the students- laughter is the key! - How humor can help kids become more patient (while also making you look like a total comedy genius) Humor can absolutely help kids become more patient - and make you look like a total comedy genius in the process. Try playing a game of "Wait or Weight" where you give your child a small weight to hold and challenge them to see how long they can wait before giving it back to you. Or, you could use the classic "hot potato" game with a ticking timer to help your child learn to stay calm under pressure. Get creative with your approaches and remember to keep things light and fun. After all, if your kids are laughing, they're already building those important patience skills. So go ahead - put on your comedian hat and start teaching some patience! - Ways to inject comedy into your patience-teaching approach (cue funny voices and silly faces) Alrighty, kiddos! Today we're gonna talk about how to be patieeeeeent! (cue squeaky voice) But don't worry, we're gonna inject some comedy into this lesson. (cue silly face) First up, let's play a game called "Statue Freeze." (cue robot voice) When I say freeze, you gotta stop movin' like a statue. But here's the catch, you gotta stay frozen for as long as possible! (cue wacky expression) The longer you wait, the more practice you get at being patient. We can also practice patience while baking yummy treats. (cue exaggerated chef voice) We gotta wait for the cookies to bake and cool down before we can gobble them up! (cue drooling face) So, let's learn to have patience while having fun too! (cue happy dance) [caption id="attachment_1799" align="aligncenter" width="683"] Learn the secret to teaching kids patience and transform your child from impatient to zen! Get practical tips and activities to help children develop self-control skills.[/caption] VI. Who's the Boss? Teaching patience to kids can sometimes feel like trying to wrangle a herd of wild cats! But fear not, there are some easy and fun activities you can use to help them learn this valuable skill. For starters, try playing games that require waiting like "Red Light, Green Light" or "Simon Says". You can also get crafty by doing simple projects like coloring or making homemade playdough. And let's not forget about baking, where waiting for your treats to bake in the oven can teach kids patience and build excitement. The key is to make it fun and engaging so they don't even realize they're learning a valuable lesson. Happy teaching! - The importance of parents being role models for patience Patience is a virtue that's worth far more than gold! As parents, it's important to model patience to our kids, more than we'd like to admit. However, the good news is that teaching patience can be fun and exciting, not boring and tedious. There are several easy activities parents can engage their children with, such as board games, cooking, crafts or even planting seeds in the garden. These activities will help to build their patience muscles by encouraging them to focus on the task at hand and relax. The key is to make it a fun exercise; everyone gets a prize for being patient! So, let's go, teach the little ones patience, laughing, and enjoying all the way! - How to practice what you preach when it comes to patience (hint: deep breaths and mental "palm trees swaying in the breeze") Hey parents and educators! Are your little ones driving you nuts with their constant impatience? Don't worry, we've got the solution - easy activities to teach children patience! First, start by taking deep breaths and imagining mental "palm trees swaying in the breeze" - seriously, it works! Then, introduce some fun games, like "Red Light, Green Light" or "I Spy." Crafting is another great way to teach patience - try painting or making friendship bracelets together. And if all else fails, baking cookies will definitely teach them some patience as they wait for those delicious treats to come out of the oven. So go ahead, give it a try, and before you know it, your little ones will be displaying patience like a pro! [caption id="attachment_1801" align="aligncenter" width="683"] Discover the secret to teaching kids patience![/caption] VII. Conclusion In conclusion, teaching kids patience is no easy feat! But with the help of some fun games and activities, it can be a whole lot easier. From playing board games to crafting and baking, there are so many ways to help kids learn the art of waiting. So next time your little one is struggling with patience, why not suggest a game of "Red Light Green Light" or bring out the playdough? With some time and practice, they'll soon be pros at staying calm and collected, even in frustrating situations. And who knows? Maybe they'll even teach YOU a thing or two about patience! - The benefits of teaching kids patience (beyond just preserving your own sanity) Teaching kids patience is not just about preserving your own sanity, although that's definitely a perk. It's an essential life skill that can benefit them in various aspects of their lives. Patience goes beyond sitting quietly and waiting for something to happen. It's about learning to have self-control, delayed gratification, and perseverance. And the good news is, you don't have to be a Zen master to teach it. You can use fun and engaging activities like playing games, doing crafts, and even baking. I mean, what better way to teach patience than waiting for cookies to bake? So, let's get to it and turn those little tornadoes into patient little angels. - Wrap-up and final thoughts (with a side of sarcastic humor, of course) in the tone: Well, well, well, look who we have here! A bunch of impatient kids and their desperate parents trying to teach them some patience? Fear not, my friends, for I have some easy activities that will not only help your children learn patience but also entertain them. First up, we have the classic game of Jenga. Nothing teaches patience like the painstaking process of taking a wooden block out of the tower without toppling it over. Your kids will either learn patience or smash the tower in a fit of anger. Either way, it's a win-win situation. Next, we have the calming experience of painting. Not only does painting require patience to create a masterpiece, but it also helps your kids release their inner Picasso. Who knows, maybe they'll become the next big thing in the art world! Finally, we have baking. If your kids can wait patiently for those cookies or cake to bake, then they can wait patiently for anything. Plus, they get to enjoy a delicious treat at the end! So, there you have it, folks. With these easy activities, your kids will be on their way to mastering the art of patience. And if all else fails, just tell them to wait until they're older to understand the importance of patience. Ha! So there you have it, folks! These activities are easy-peasy lemon squeezy ways to help your little ones master the art of patience. From playing board games to baking delicious cookies, there's no shortage of fun and engaging activities that can teach kids patience. Remember, patience is a crucial skill that enhances their self-control, promotes better decision-making, and fosters emotional intelligence. So whip out your board games, set up a craft table, or fire up the oven, and start cultivating your child's patience- all while having a blast! With repetition, consistency, and a sprinkle of fun, your child will be a patience master in no time. Keep calm, stay patient, and happy teaching! https://www.understood.org/en/learning-thinking-differences/child-learning-disabilities/teaching-children - Understood.org is a comprehensive website dedicated to helping children with learning and attention issues. This particular page focuses on tips for teaching children who learn differently. https://www.parents.com/kids/education/ - Parents.com is a popular parenting website that has a section specifically dedicated to education. It includes articles on a wide range of topics, from homework help to college planning. https://www.edutopia.org/ - Edutopia is a website that offers a wealth of resources for teachers, parents, and students alike. It includes articles, videos, and other materials on a variety of educational topics, such as project-based learning, social-emotional learning, and educational technology.

#TOP_PARENTING_TIPS #PATIENCE #TEACHING_KIDS_PATIENCE

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collectingmuses · 1 month ago

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sentence meme: spirit rider (2021)

"i find this world... strange."

"oh my god -- RUN!"

"web pages have no connection to a spider other than the way they get you stuck for hours."

"i once lost an entire afternoon to cat videos."

"and i would do it again!"

"how one gets any work done with all those cute cat videos, i will never understand."

"it takes the willpower of a god... or a demon."

"a long time ago, a very powerful spirit came to me. one filled with wrath and rage. one that called for vengeance."

"this internet could not bring me answers to better understand myself."

"i have always walked a fine line between the darkness and the light."

"in my time, i was called _____"

"you're hilarious! when are you gonna go up at the comedy store and do a set?"

"i think my particular sense of humor is better suited offstage than onstage."

"i would rather battle a thousand demons than be heckled by a bunch of drunk frat guys."

"there would be no holding me back from those jerks."

"true, we'd need the fire department on standby."

"something is in the bathroom."

"smells like sorcery... and sweaty leather."

"this demon is connected to you."

"owww! watch it, lady!"

"still on for karaoke night?"

"as long as this demon does not kill me, i'm all in."

"you gonna sing the usual?"

"eye of the tiger is the only classic that matters to me."

"one of these days i'm gonna get you to sing something different."

"if it's not broken then why fix it?"

"meet you in the bathroom!"

"i would rather not spoil these good folks' afternoon with existential dread."

"i'm gonna go out on a limb here and say i think we already scarred one waitress for life."

"you're the one brunching at a greasy spoon."

"best that we leave a small footprint."

"this is where i last saw my family."

"i don't know. i have been searching for answers ever since i first encountered the entity."

"this feels like an alien is inside of me."

"you... you've done this before, right?"

"you're just going to have to trust me."

"i will be here... prepared to use my magic if something goes horribly wrong."

"if anything goes horribly wrong, it will already be too late."

"ready yourself. i'm about to enter you completely."

"... be gentle, please."

"i can make no promises."

"his essence is stained with a darkness no amount of scrubbing will wipe clean."

"you just don't stop being the king of hell one day and think that everything is going to go back to normal."

"it's the one thing that fuels our power... the chaos."

"that raw, unbridled vengeance is like a drug."

"no wonder ___ is a perfect host. he lives for the chaos... just like his father."

"i feel there is a great pain that feeds this being."

"yeah i buried this memory for a reason."

"this is most likely a trap."

"ya think?"

"i've got one more stunt for the evening that's sure to make your head spin."

"i'm heading for some burgers if you'd care to join."

"if it knows i am here, it will come for me."

"motorcycles are my thing."

"i can promise we have never met."

"have you ever ridden a motorcycle?"

"one horse is more than enough power for me."

"people have believed the motorcycle to be the demon's steed."

"a motorcycle can never love you back the way a thoroughbred can."

"i wish we could stay with you here."

"you can stay as long as you like."

"i believe in you!"

"we must save your innocence."

"then go. i will hold them off."

"stop thinking you need to save everyone."

"___ always used to say you can't love anyone until you love yourself."

"my soul could definitely use a little watering after all the fire."

"be prepared for anything. it is going to get more difficult."

"i am beginning to suspect you were right."

"i am no longer sure it is here for you."

"how do we beat it?"

"we must be ready for anything."

"you might be right... but my instincts are telling me you are wrong."

"this could pose a problem."

"easy peasy lemon squeezy."

"time to do or die."

"do not let this broken creature claim your soul!"

"none of this is real. you need to fight it."

"i'm tired of trying to figure out what's real and what's not."

"i don't know what this thing wants... and that frightens me."

"i am sorry for your pain... but i cannot let you do that."

"i enjoy when my meal puts up a good fight."

"my will is stronger than yours."

"there is nothing you can do to stop me."

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snackhobi · 4 years ago

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this is my part of the rockin’ around the christmas tropes collab with @yeojaa, @underthejoon @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna, @untaemedqueen, @xjoonchildx ✨ MERRY (early) CHRISTMAS Y’ALL

summary: yoongi is your favourite regular. he’s patient, polite, and predictable, a-large-black-coffee-to-go-please, no cream, no sugar, thank you. rinse and repeat. the seasons might change, but yoongi’s order stays the same.

and then one fateful day in winter, yoongi asks about the weekly specials, orders a cup of christmas and sugary sweetness, and everything starts changing.

pairing: yoongi x barista f!reader / word count: 14.8k / genre: coffeeshop!au, fluff, dash of smut (NSFW)

warnings: slow burn, terrible drink concoctions, pining, miscommunication (kind of/reader comes to incorrect conclusions based on literally nothing), the tiniest bit of swearing, heated makeouts, oral (m receiving), I think that’s it

a/n: I have a lot of people to thank: thank you to my loveliest most beautiful wife @yeojaa for the beautiful banner 🥺💖 thank you to @morndas for helping me name this fic and suggesting some of the awful weekly specials featured within 🥰 thank you to @yeoldontknow for letting me have multiple meltdowns at her and for letting me pick her brain about working in the music industry, and for helping me with plot points I wasn’t sure about!! 💕

also thank you to @hobi-gif for helping me brainstorm the original fic idea with her; she hasn’t beta’ed this fic because I am TERRIBLE and literally finished this like an hour before posting. that’s on me and not her. I am a shambles without her indomitable proof reading skills; any mistakes are down to me, and I apologise for that. I’ve only read this through like once, sorry in advance, I’m literally formatting this while I should be getting ready for work

Being a barista isn’t all bad.

Like, okay, you’re on your feet for hours at a time, the pay isn’t exactly the highest in the world, and coffee beans have a tendency to end up in the weirdest places (how did you get the light roast in your bra?)—but it’s not entirely terrible.

Here’s a (totally not comprehensive) list of good things about working at the Paradise coffee shop:

The free drinks (y’know, for taste testing purposes)

The free food (you probably eat more than you’re actually allowed, but who’s telling?)

Your coworkers (like Taehyung, who is—yep—currently shoving a whole mini panettone in his mouth)

Most of the customers are pretty nice, too (you have some lovely regulars)

(If you had to be more specific, there’s one regular in particular that you really, really like—)

(Yoongi appears like clockwork every week. Just after the Tuesday lunch rush, the bell above the door will sing out its greeting as he steps inside, ordering the same drink each and every time he’s here—a large Americano, to go, plain and simple and unadorned, no room for cream or milk, no added sugar or sweetener.)

(Yoongi really is the perfect customer. He has been from the very beginning, a point of quiet in a churning sea of hot, sweaty people all begging for frappés and milkshakes, the hottest point at the very peak of summer. The queue had been growing longer and longer, out of the doors as the blenders whirred their way through a neverending cascade of sugary, iced blends; the counters were a mess and all the baristas were running around and everything was chaos and in had walked this guy, all dark hair and dark eyes and dark clothes, even in the height of summer—you were ready for death at this point, hands sticky with syrup and apron streaked with flecks from almost every drink from the summer menu, and you’d braced yourself for some terse words, impatience and passive aggressive comments on the long wait—)

(—and this intimidating man had just patiently asked for an iced Americano, calm and quiet and polite.)

(You’d fallen a little in love, then and there. Fallen in love with that simple order, quick and easy to make, and fallen a little in love with the dichotomy of the man who looked like nothing but sharp edges being the softest customer you’d had all day. There was nothing rushed about his motions, no desperate need to get his drink and get away, no anger at having waited for so long.)

(He’d been ready to pay, too, no fumbling with his wallet or money; he’d tapped his card, easy and breezy and all lemon squeezy, but he’d left a tip in change, dropped almost thoughtlessly into the jar. He’d collected his cup with the smallest upturn to his lips, a tilt of his head, and then he’d left, other customers parting before him like the Red Sea.)

(The only thing that’s changed over the months is that the iced coffees of summer have changed into hot Americanos for the cooler months, autumn and now almost-winter, warding off the chill in the air. Everything else is the same; his dark eyes and low voice and patient smile, small but ever present, pressed lightly into the surprisingly soft line of his mouth.)

(So, yeah. Yoongi is your favourite customer. Even if you’ve barely spoken, really, the two of you dancing through the same short script each time he comes in—the longest conversation you’ve had so far is the one where you’d tentatively asked if he’d like a rewards card, and after a moment of contemplation, he’d quietly agreed.)

(You like to think that you’re Yoongi’s favourite server, too. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but—)

(Taehyung had been stunned into speechlessness, because, to quote his words exactly: “I tried getting him to sign up for a card last time and I swear he just pretended he couldn’t hear me? He just straight up didn’t respond? What?”)

(—you know Yoongi likes you at least a little bit.)

Anyway. You’re getting off the point. Paradise is a decent place to work, the people are nice, and the building is pretty and airy and welcoming and warm, toasty and cosy in the upcoming cold of winter. It’s one of the things that keeps people coming back, that lovely atmosphere.

Another thing that people apparently love about Paradise is the constantly changing menu. It’s not enough to have seasonal menus, no—you need to have weekly specials, apparently, to keep people interested. It’s like a gachapon, but instead of cute little capsule toys, it’s a random mix of concoctions that are hit or miss.

“Well, I liked the Peachy Keen Jelly Bean,” Taehyung says, around a mouthful of sweet bread, still chewing his way through the panettone.

“You’d be the only one,” you reply, swiping a cloth over the counters and crinkling your nose at the pile of coffee grounds you gather. “Iced peach tea with blackberry and vanilla and cherry and watermelon syrup has got to be one of the worst things we’ve ever served.”

That had definitely been one of the misses. This week’s special, though, is far more palatable, if incredibly sweet—Crystal Snow, a white chocolate mocha with whipped cream, dusted with powdered sugar, and a crystallised sugar stick to stir in. Sugar on sugar on sugar, basically. (Your teeth ache just thinking about it.)

But there’s always something so fun about making the winter specials, no matter how sugary they are; the smell of the sticky syrups, the swirl of cream to top off the cup, the dusting of cocoa or cinnamon, everything mulled in the sweet warmth of winter. Even if the drink you’re making is questionable, you get so excited about it, genuinely enthusiastic when you recommend them to customers, carrying everyone into the spirit of the upcoming holidays. You’d hardly describe making coffee a billion times a day fun—it’s pretty exhausting, actually—but you’ve always had a weird affection for the winter menu and the weekly specials alongside it.

You don’t upsell the drinks because you have to. You do it because you want to.

(You’re pretty good at it too. Not a flex: just a fact. Your customer service is on point.)

The only person you’ve never tried to persuade into trying something new is Yoongi. He might not be rude or short tempered, but he clearly knows what he wants, and you hate the idea of ruining the easy flow of his visits. You’re not about to embarrass yourself by asking Mr No-Cream-Or-Sugar if he’d like a drink that's nothing but cream and sugar. Asking about the rewards card had been nerve-wracking enough, even if it had been worth it for the genuinely-unintentional-but-definitely-not-unpleasant brushing of your fingers when you’d handed the card over to him.

(Okay. Look. Yoongi is patient and pleasant and polite and cute. You never thought that you’d crush on a customer, but here you are. He just… oozes masculinity in an understated, self-assured way that has you internally swooning. He looks intimidating and serious but when he smiles his eyes go soft-soft-soft, his voice a low rumble as he gives you his gentle thank you, and everything about him is just so… attractive. Even the way he holds his coffee is hot, fingers loose around the lid as he makes his way out of the café, your eyes tracing every motion as he goes. Like. Come on. Of course you’re crushing on him.)

(Just a little bit, though. Just a little bit. It’s just an itty bitty crush. A teeny weeny crush.)

The bell above the door chimes. Your kneejerk reaction is to snap your head over to see who it is—but you hold it together, instead letting your head turn at a normal, natural pace. It’s just an unfamiliar woman, rearranging the tassels of her long scarf with one hand and holding her phone with the other as the door swings shut, and you deflate.

(... It’s a small crush, you swear. It’s not like this is around the normal time Yoongi appears and you’d thought it was going to be him. Nope. Definitely not that.)

As the woman lingers near the counter, eyes flicking between her phone and the chalkboard menu on the wall above your head, Taehyung finishes licking the panettone crumbs off his fingers.

“It’s Tuesday,” he states solemnly.

“I know?”

“It’s just past two o’clock,” he continues.

“I know,” you repeat, glancing at him quizzically. “You told me what the time was less than five minutes ago.”

“I did.”

The bell chimes again. This time, a gaggle of giggling girls come bubbling into the café, cutting you off before you can ask what Taehyung is trying to say. You go to flick your cloth at him before thinking better of it, not wanting to rain dark roast everywhere.

“Go wash your hands,” you say, just as the scarfed woman approaches the counter, ready to order. A bright smile splits your face, voice rising into its usual peppy Customer Service tone. “Hi, welcome to Paradise! How can I help you today?”

She barely glances up from her phone as she orders, asking for a latte macchiato and croissant, a distracted ‘no thanks’ when you ask if she’s interested in this week’s special. Oh well. The girls behind her, though, all seem incredibly excited when they catch wind of it; they all eagerly listen as you describe what a Crystal Snow is, your eyes lighting up as you mime piping the cream and dusting the sugar on top, laughing when they ask if they can buy extra sugar sticks to take home, because of course they can, you’d be happy to do that for them, would they like those in to-go bags? Yes, the bags are cute, aren’t they, the snowflakes are lovely, you agree.

Taehyung’s just finished wiping the steam wand when you give him the next order. You see the way his face crumples before his brows lift and his lips purse, pleading as he looks at you with big eyes, and you just roll your own eyes affectionately.

“Yes, yes, I’ll make them even though you’re meant to be on the bar, it’s fine,” you say, and Taehyung’s whole face lights up.

You’ve worked with Taehyung long enough by now to know that it takes him until at least Wednesday to memorise how to make whatever that week’s special is. And there’s not a queue, so you don’t mind taking over, pulling espresso shots and steaming milk and pouring everything together, puffing air in Taehyung’s face when he peers at your cream swirling technique. (No matter how many times you’ve tried to teach him, he’s never been able to get it right, usually just farting a mess of cream out of the nozzle and hoping for the best. Results are… mixed.) Maybe the flourish you put into dusting the sugar on top is unnecessary, but, hey. It’s fun. You smile to yourself as you give a small flick of the wrist over each drink, powdered sugar floating down like snow, and, done.

You don’t like to toot your own horn but the drinks come out Instagram perfect, each latte glass set on a tiny napkin on a saucer, sugar stick on one side, and you take a moment to admire your work.

“They’re so pretty,” Taehyung says, and your smile grows wider.

The girls all agree, cooing over the drinks in a way that only makes your smile grow even more, wide on your face. You watch as they squirrel themselves away in a corner, talking and laughing and nibbling their food and sipping at their drinks, pleased at the way their eyes widen at the first taste.

Yeah, it’s the small things that makes your time here good. Being a barista is a thankless job most of the time, as relaxed as Paradise usually is, so you try to appreciate the small things. Like having fun when you make a drink, for example. Making nice customers happy. (Having cute regulars that you can quietly ogle.)

Actually, on the note of cute regulars—

“Your 2:15 appointment is here.”

You tear your attention away from the table of girls at the sound of Taehyung’s voice. “My what—?”

There’s someone in front of the glass display, hunched as they slowly and quietly peruse the selection of pastries and food inside—and you realise with a jolt that it’s Yoongi. You have no idea how long he’s been there, so distracted with patting yourself on the back for making a few nice drinks; oh, God, what if Yoongi had seen your pleased expression? Do you look smug? You probably look smug. Great, now he probably thinks that you’re a self-obsessed clown, honking your nose like some sort of narcissist.

“You’re spiralling,” Taehyung points out mildly, voice low enough that Yoongi doesn't hear.

His surprisingly perceptive comment snaps you out of aforementioned spiralling, and after shaking yourself off, you glance over at him. “Why didn’t you serve him?”

He shrugs. “He didn’t seem like he wanted to be served so I just left him to it.”

To be fair to Taehyung, he’s not wrong. Yoongi is staring intently at a slice of carrot cake—even if he’s never ordered any before—and it’s not until you move to your usual spot behind the till that his attention finally rises, meeting your gaze with his deep, dark eyes.

Your inner schoolgirl feels like she needs to sit down. Your entire stomach and chest is a looping mess of frantic butterflies after making eye contact with the cute boy who you’re crushing on, but you’ve got a great poker face; you’ve worked as a barista long enough that you’re good at shoving your real feelings down, none of your internal turmoil playing across your face as you smile. Customer service mode activate.

“Hi, and welcome back to Paradise. What can I get for you today? The usual? Large Americano, to go, for Yoongi?”

You’re a little softer than you would be with other customers, a little more subdued, dialing down how upbeat you normally are to match Yoongi’s level. His lips lift almost imperceptibly, the faintest smile playing across his mouth, and it takes all your strength for your knees to not immediately buckle.

“Hi,” he says. His voice is soft and low, faintest drawl at the end of his words, and yep, just your weekly reminder that you’re enamoured with him. Cool. “Yes, please, that would be great.”

He already has his card ready, you know he does. He always does; card to pay, loyalty card to swipe, tip to drop in the jar, quick and smooth and easy. This is normally where you’d rattle off the price—as if he doesn’t already know what it is—but you pause, thinking about how intent he’d been on the pastry display, as uncharacteristic as that is.

“Did you… want something to eat, too? I couldn’t, um, help noticing that you were eyeing up the carrot cake?”

Yoongi blinks, wispy lashes fluttering. You can see the muted surprise that flashes across his face, and you wonder if you’ve misstepped, thrown off the usual rhythm of his visit. It’s an unusual step away from your regular script, an ad-lib that he wasn’t expecting.

“Uh, no, thank you,” he says. “Maybe… next time.”

He’s polite as ever, thankfully. You’re not surprised at his answer but you do have to wonder why he was looking at the cake so closely if he hadn’t planned on getting anything; you know he likes getting served by you the most, if the evidence over the months means anything at all, but you don’t think he’d stare at cake just so he would avoid Taehyung. You’re making assumptions based on the fact he just drinks black coffee and literally nothing else, but you’ve guessed he doesn’t have a sweet tooth. (The only time he’s ever ordered food had been two months prior when he’d asked for a single croissant, and nothing since. Taehyung still talks about the croissant sometimes.)

Well, it doesn't really matter. If he doesn't want cake, you're not going to force it on him, and the rest of the transaction goes as normal. Yoongi hands over his rewards card, fingers long and knuckles knobbly and altogether lovely, pays for his Americano—made by Taehyung, cup wrapped in the sleeve that you’ve written Yoongi’s name on, black sharpie bleeding into the cardboard—and smiles at you both when Taehyung hands it to him across the smooth wood of the counter.

“Thanks.” He gives you that slight tilt of his head that he always does, and you smile helplessly back.

He’s a gentleman, through and through, even if he looks as distant as ever; dressed in all black, his ripped jeans the only splash of lightness in his dark outfit. Maybe you’re biased, but no matter what he wears, he looks stylish, somehow. It’s something in his aura. All cool understated elegance and power.

And here you are, in your cream jumper under the dark mulberry apron of your uniform, a flower blooming next to the name on your badge. All chirpy customer service, smiling broad and wide as you go through the same motions over and over with each new person that comes in. Sometimes you wonder what Yoongi thinks of you, as different as you are to him, but at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter—because he keeps coming back, doesn’t he?

“Have a nice day,” you say as he turns to go, and when he glances over his shoulder and says you too, smile soft and eyes softer, you know he really means it.

(And if your eyes always trail after him once his back has turned, who’s telling?)

“You’re staring.” Taehyung’s telling, apparently.

You tear your eyes away from Yoongi, bell tinkling as the door swings shut behind him. “He’s my favourite customer,” you say. As if that explains why you were staring.

“You’ve barely spoken to him.”

“He’s my favourite customer,” you say again, emphatically. “He comes in, he gets the world’s simplest drink to make, is always polite, always leaves a tip, and he goes. Literally the perfect customer.”

“Alright, true,” he says, as if he hadn’t considered that before now. “Cute, too.”

You sigh. A little wistful. “Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, he is.”

Taehyung opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something else when someone spills their drink on their floor with an unholy clattering sound, even if nothing breaks; without saying anything, both you and Taehyung raise your hands, eyes narrowing at each other.

"Rock, paper, scissors," you chant. Taehyung promptly loses, and the pout that forms on his lips doesn't disappear until he's finished mopping everything up.

(“Why do I always end up having to clean spillages?”

“Because you never win rock-paper-scissors. You always choose scissors, Taehyung. You literally always choose scissors.”)

The tradition of the weekly specials at Paradise is a weird one, truth be told. Each Monday whoever’s on the opening shift will enter the coffee shop and find that the board on the wall has been updated, the recipe typed up and laminated, waiting on the counter for the baristas. You all assume it’s the mysterious owner, who no one has ever seen, and no one even knows the name of, apparently.

“Someone has to know their name,” you’d said, once, back when you’d first started, only to receive a shrugs from everyone.

“I heard one of the old baristas say the owner’s name was Jackson,” Taehyung had said, and you’d just blinked at him.

“Huh?” you’d said, but Jimin had rolled his eyes and told you to ignore him, so you had.

This week’s drink is the Marshmallow World. As always, when you and Taehyung start your shift together, you read the recipe and follow it step by step to learn how to make it. Warmed milk, vanilla syrup, topped off with marshmallow fluff instead of whipped cream—not bad in theory, if you like sweet things, although it does pose one significant problem.

“It’s clogged my hole,” Taehyung says sadly.

You sputter on your own drink, desperately hacking your lungs out as you try to stop milk from going down your windpipe. “I’m-sorry-it’s-what,” you wheeze all at once, struggling for air.

Taehyung tilts his takeaway cup at you, gesturing at the lid. (All the mugs are still out back or on a rinse cycle so laziness had forced you to make do.) “My drink hole. It’s blocked,” he explains. “The fluff is getting in the way.”

So, yeah. It clogs people’s holes, apparently. But other than that, you have to admit it’s pretty nice, and if you drink it in the café (and thus out of a mug) then you’re fine. You just get into the habit of warning the customers if they order it to go and laugh about it with them and it’s all fine and dandy and everyone is happy.

It’s starting to get busier, now. The nights are getting longer and the days are getting colder and everyone’s starting to think about Christmas, which feels both close and far away, all at once. Close, because you still have presents to buy and there’s never enough time for it; and far, because the lights have yet to go up and Christmas songs aren’t dominating the radio yet and you have yet to experience the real winter rush. Students home for the holidays and families out to see Father Christmas and workers grabbing Secret Santa gifts, everyone desperate for something warm and soothing, hot and comforting in the face of the snow which has yet to fall.

But there’s something in the air, that cool hush that lets you know it’s nearly here—the changing of the seasons, the burnt sunset colours of autumn melting into the iced blues and greys of winter. No matter if you prefer hot or cold weather, there’s something about the beauty of wintertime that’s undeniable.

And it’s a lot easier to sell something like the Marshmallow World on a day like this, the nip in the air almost solid, biting cold into the apples of your cheeks, nibbling at fingers that are so cold they feel frost-bitten. Once again, your genuine enthusiasm shines through, persuading people to give the drink a go, happy to add a shot of espresso for whoever needs it, desperate for caffeine to buoy them up through the day.

You’ve just finished laughing with a lovely old couple, wearing matching scarves and hats—awwww—waving them goodbye as they go to sit down, when you come face to face with Yoongi, blindsided by his sudden appearance. You’d been so caught up, once again, too busy giggling your way through the conversation with your other customers, able to persuade them to try one special to share alongside everything else they’ve ordered.

“Oh. Uh. Hi,” you say. Your hand is still by your face after you’d given the couple a cute wave, and when you realise, you freeze. Flustered. Behind you, Taehyung is struggling to spoon the marshmallow fluff neatly on the vanilla steamer, making small noises of distress, but you’re too caught up in your own distress to really notice.

Once again, you have no idea how long Yoongi’s been there. You’re slipping. You’re normally aware of him as soon as he steps into the coffee shop. (You know, because you’re always aware of when a new customer steps in. Like any good barista would be.) Had he witnessed you enthusiastically waving your hands and talking about marshmallows and s'mores? Seen the way you'd grinned and laughed as you'd gotten excited over the weekly special, yet again?

Well, if he had, he doesn't seem perturbed at all. His usual smile is on his face, though you would swear it seems a little softer around the edges, almost fond.

“Hi,” he says, and… that’s it.

There’s no addition of his usual that would be great, and that’s when you realise you haven’t asked about his coffee. In fact, your fingers are still curled near your chin, almost like a claw. You clear your throat and let your arm fall to your side, fiddling with the tie of your apron.

“Hi,” you repeat. Flounder for a second. Try to remember your usual line. “Large Americano?”

“Y/n.” Taehyung whines your name from the bar, loud enough that it catches your attention. “The marshmallow isn’t staying. Why do you keep recommending Marshmallow World? Why must I suffer through this torture? Every day I wake up and I make coffee—”

“Sorry, sir, one second,” you say, face scrunching in apology at Yoongi.

“It's just Yoongi,” he replies, gentle, and your heart thuds in your chest. "You don't have to call me sir."

Your face feels warm. "Um, okay, Yoongi." You've said his name before, of course, said it dozens of times to confirm his order, but never like this—by invitation from the man himself, an acknowledgement of familiarity.

Taehyung makes another noise. Yoongi's expression turns into one of faint amusement, eyes drifting over your shoulder to your friend; when you turn around, you can see why.

The other barista’s managed to get marshmallow fluff all over the edge of the glass, on the handle of the cup, all the way up the spoon, on his fingers—everywhere except on the drink itself. It’s funny, in a sad sort of way.

“Wow.” You have no idea how he managed it, but you’re here to help. “Alright, go wash your hands, Tae. I’ve got this.”

The cup is a goner. There’s no way you’ll be able to wipe off the sticky marshmallow. You’re acutely aware of Yoongi at the counter, able to watch your every move, but then you get distracted as you salvage Taehyung's attempt at a Marshmallow World. You just feel grateful that it’s a steamer so you can pour it into a new glass, not having to worry about layers of coffee and milk and foam; it’s a pretty easy fix. Good. (You don’t want to keep Yoongi waiting, as patient as he may be.)

It doesn’t take long to spoon the marshmallow on, whipped peaks in the sticky white, and by the time Taehyung returns you’re ready to present him with the picture perfect drink, not a single lick of fluff anywhere it shouldn’t be. You've got your hands on your hips as you survey your work proudly, and Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you.

“Witchcraft,” he says, and you laugh.

“You’re welcome,” you say. “Alright, shoo, go take this over to the table before they start wondering where it is.”

When you turn back, Yoongi’s watching you. Contemplative. You tamp down the flush that threatens to spill onto your cheeks, face burning, but before you can say anything, he speaks.

“Was that the weekly special?”

You blink. Blindsided. Yoongi’s never asked about the special before, never commented on the A-frame outside, the sign on the wall that sits next to the regular menu. No surprise there—why would someone who only drinks Americanos want to drink ninety-nine percent of the weekly specials you offer? “Um, yeah,” you say. “We’ve got the Marshmallow World this week.”

“Would you recommend it?”

You can’t help it. You light up. You love when customers ask for recommendations, and the fact that it’s Yoongi—whose blood must be made of coffee at this point—who’s asking about it? Americano Yoongi, asking about something without caffeine? Black coffee Yoongi, asking about a weekly special that’s nothing but sugar and sweetness? Something inside you switches on, a Christmas tree, all flashing lights and shimmering tinsel and excitement.

“Oh, if you like sweeter drinks, absolutely! It’s great for a cold day like today,” you gush. Maybe you should reel it in, far more exuberant than you usually are with Yoongi, but. You can’t stop. “It’s warm milk and vanilla, so it’s a lovely comfort drink, and we can add a shot of espresso too if you were wanting a little pick-me-up. And then you’ve got marshmallow fluff on top for some extra self-indulgence. We were meant to, uh, toast the top, actually, but we don’t have the necessary health and safety clearance for blowtorches. I guess you could do that at home if you really wanted to. Everyone likes toasted marshmallows, right?”

Yoongi hums, and you wonder if you’ve maybe gotten ahead of yourself. Oversold it. Maybe he was asking out of curiosity. Just because he’s asking about it doesn’t mean that he wants one—

“Can I get a Marshmallow World, please? Large, to go?”

—or maybe Yoongi is an official convert to the world of sweet drinks, changing after a lifetime of drinking unadorned, unadulterated black coffee. Holy shit. Holy shit? Holy—

“And a large Americano to go, too, please.”

(Record scratch. Freeze frame.

Yoongi of-the-black-coffee is ordering his usual drink, and another. Both large. Too much for one person to reasonably drink before one of them got cold. He’s not ordering for one person; he’s ordering for two people. Of course Yoongi wouldn’t order something as heart-stopping as the Marshmallow World—not for himself, anyway.

Mental maths. Two plus two is four, four plus four is eight; one large Americano and one Marshmallow World is two people. Yoongi and one other person is two people, a couple of people, a couple—

Oh, God.

A couple.

You’ve been crushing on a taken man.

You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes before you die? It’s sort of like that, but rather than remembering your life, you immediately recall every moment over the months where you’ve looked at him or thought about him with even the smallest iota of longing and you want to crawl under the counter and never come out.

You feel weirdly guilty. Like… like you’re some sort of unintentional homewrecker. Even though, you know, you thought Yoongi was single and you haven’t made a single move on him and nor had you had any plans to. The guilt bubbles up inside you anyway.

All at once, you feel immensely, incredibly embarrassed. Of course he’s taken. There’s no way he wouldn’t be, as attractive and nice as he is, and you’ve just been sat here crushing on him like a big dumb idiot.

You are the worst.)

You manage to squeeze this internal breakdown into the span of a few seconds. You’re grateful that you have your customer service face locked on, giving nothing away—from the outside the smile looks just like that, a smile, rather than the rictus of deathly mortification it actually is, burning through you like a wildfire.

Yoongi seems none the wiser, just patiently waiting for some sort of acknowledgement of his order. Most of your brain power is still taken up with the mish-mash of humiliation and guilt that’s roiling through you. Luckily, though, the part of your brain that’s still in the moment (trying to drag you back to the real world, shame-faced as you are) forces you to move before things get weird.

“One large Americano, one large Marshmallow World, both to go.” You tap the drinks into the till on auto-pilot, dimly noting that Taehyung’s been pulled into conversation with the old couple at their table, having delivered their drinks and food to them. It’s just you behind the counter, no one else to man the coffee machines. “Let me get those started for you.”

Luckily, making the drinks means you can turn your back to Yoongi, oscillating through the five stages of grief as you fiddle with hot milk and coffee grounds and paper cups. You always take pride in your work—especially when it comes to Yoongi—and you take even more pride now, determined to make these drinks as lovely as they can be. His Americano is fairly simple, but the Marshmallow World requires a bit more finesse, and you lavish attention on the fluff, swirling it beautifully, even though you know it’ll stick to the lid anyway.

(Okay, listen. Whoever this person Yoongi is seeing must be as nice as he is. They both deserve nice drinks.)

There’s something sweet about it, actually. Before the lids go on, you spent a second staring down at the drinks and the juxtaposition between them; black coffee and white marshmallow, bitter and sweet, night and day. It’s lovely, really, these two opposing things coming together. You wonder what Yoongi’s partner is like. Exuberant and bright, rather than his subdued warmth? A balance, yin and yang, opposite but complementary.

(Isn’t that a nice thing to think about? Finding someone who’s different to you but matches you so well?)

You firmly press the lids into place, making sure they’re secure. The protective cardboard sleeve of Yoongi’s Americano has his name—the name you’ve memorised, written out countless times—while the Marshmallow World has a scrawled happy face, and an enjoy! on it, for this mysterious person who likes sweet drinks. You do sincerely hope they enjoy it. You really do.

“The fluff blocks the hole,” you warn, sliding the cardboard tray for both drinks carefully across the counter. “It’s probably a better idea to just take the lid off.”

Something flickers across Yoongi’s face, too fast for you to identify. But then he nods, lifting the tray up with equally careful hands. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says.

He’s always polite to everyone, Taehyung and the other baristas, but he seems to smile at you the most. He’s smiling at you now, curling at the corners of his lips, and you smile back, fighting through ten layers of embarrassment and self-inflicted shame to do so. Just because he smiles at you the most doesn’t mean anything. You can smile at people and not have it be weird; it doesn’t mean you return their ill-fated attraction.

Why, oh why, oh why.

By the time Taehyung returns to the counter, having escaped the chatty, kind clutches of the elderly couple, Yoongi is long gone. Your fellow barista finds you crouched down in front one of the cupboards with your head in your hands.

“Y/n?” He sounds incredibly concerned. “Are you okay? Do you have a headache? Are you sick?”

You let out a quiet noise, a mix between a whale dying and a hippo trying to swallow porridge, muffled into your palms. “I’m such a doughnut,” you say. “Just an absolute doughnut.”

Taehyung crouches beside you. “A glazed doughnut or a jam doughnut?”

Your hands drop away from your face as you think. “Plain,” you say, eventually. “Unglazed. No toppings or fillings.” A little sad and disappointing. It seems fitting.

Taehyung puts a hand on your shoulder, warm and comforting. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You feel embarrassed all over again, thinking about admitting your (now-squashed) crush to your friend. It was stupid in the first place, crushing on a customer, especially as you’d barely spoken to him; Yoongi might be cute, and nice, but your crush was silly and dumb and you’d been silly and dumb not to think that he was already in a relationship.

“I’m fine,” you say. “Just going through it. And by ‘it’ I mean life generally, you know?”

Taehyung makes a noise of understanding, patting your shoulder. “Big mood,” he says sombrely. He always knows what to say, empathetic to a fault.

“Uh,” a customer says, craning over the counter to see the two of you. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I get a refill on my coffee, please?”

That effectively kills the conversation, which is good. Keep yourself busy and distracted. By the time you see Yoongi next week, this crush will be dead and gone and you’ll be fine. Just fine. Absolutely fine.

He’s dyed his hair.

It’s a Tuesday afternoon, the café is full of people, and Yoongi has dyed his hair.

You’d spent all of last Tuesday alternating between all-consuming guilt and embarrassment, Taehyung catching you with your head in your hands in one moment and furiously cleaning the steam wand the next, channeling your tumult of emotions into anything that will distract you.

It had worked. Mostly. You’ve had a week’s worth of time since, to get over this month’s long crush, your brain consistently reminding you that Yoongi is in a relationship, with someone who’s probably lovely and attractive and all around just wonderful (just like him). You remind yourself about this every time you find coffee grounds under your nails, or notice milk flecked on your apron, soured and off-white after a day of work; your life isn’t a meet-cute, and you’re not the cute barista who falls in love with the cute regular. You’re the tired barista who makes more cups of coffee in a day than most people probably drink in a year, and Yoongi is the cute regular who’s already in a long term relationship and comes to Paradise just because he likes the dark roast you use. That’s as far as it will go, because this is real life, and not a romance film or novel. (Even if you wished that it was.)

You’ve come to terms with it. Really, you have. But then he has to step into the coffee shop looking like that, his hair bleached so blond it almost looks white, silver hoops in his ears, and he’s still dressed in dark clothes but he’s wearing glasses, no, this isn’t a drill, Yoongi’s dyed his hair, he’s all light and dark, soft and sharp, and you want to crouch behind the counter again. Because he looks so good and of course he’s in a relationship because he’s hot, and you feel dumb for not having realised it sooner.

You can’t hide behind the counter, though. There’s a queue of people, all waiting for your attention and your time, and it’s still just you and Taehyung; none of your usual Christmas temps are back yet, still away at uni, hence the we’re hiring! posters that are up for all the customers to see (and mostly ignore). The seasons are changing and the weeks are passing and the really eager people are starting to think about Christmas shopping; you swear you don’t even need a calendar, able to trace how close you are to Christmas just based on the amount of foot traffic the coffee shop gets. You’re definitely hitting peak.

But it’s fine. You have this down to a fine art. You and Taehyung are both good on the till and scarily efficient at making drinks and plating food, dancing past each other with an ease that only comes with time spent working together and friendship alongside.

People aren’t ordering the weekly special as much, either, not today. You can’t blame them. Candy Cane Dreams is a white hot chocolate, flavoured with mint and coloured green, topped with whipped cream and sprinkles of candy cane bark and red and green drizzle too; it’s… pretty overwhelming. So it means you don’t have to take over for Taehyung from the bar, focusing on smiling at customers and soothing them after their wait, taking their orders and shuffling them along as quickly as you can. You keep a smile plastered on your face as Taehyung pulls espresso shots and grabs tea bags and heats milk, routine and familiar.

When Yoongi steps up to the counter, you’ve barely had time to mentally prepare yourself, so focused on serving everyone else in the queue; it feels like a slap to the face, a kick to the knees, but then you take one deep breath and exhale. Long, deep, slow, forcing air out of your lungs and thoughts out of your mind, and you smile.

You’ve been so careful up until this point, wanting to keep Yoongi happy, wary of misstepping—but he’s just a regular customer. You feel more confident, now, less worried about breaking this tenuous thing you thought you’d had; less worried about what you’re doing being construed as some weird, roundabout way of flirting, because. You know. He’s in a relationship, so it doesn’t matter either way. He’s definitely not interested. You can talk to him like you would anyone else.

So you say: “You dyed your hair.”

And, just like you suspected, Yoongi doesn’t seem bothered that you’ve broken your usual script. “Oh, yeah.” He reaches up, touches his head, as if he’d forgotten. “I did.”

“It looks nice,” you continue, because it does.

He’s smiling back at you. He looks pleased; maybe a little bashful, even, as surprising as that is. “Thanks,” he says, warm and genuine. (The tiny gremlin of a crush that’s still lurking in your soul lets out a wistful sigh.) “Can I get a large Americano and a—” he squints at the board— “large Candy Cane Dream, please?”

(One plus one is two, Yoongi and his other half, the sugar to his coffee.)

“Sure!” Your voice is bright. “I’m guessing the Marshmallow World went over well?”

There’s a brief beat of silence, but you don’t notice, too focused on typing Yoongi’s order into the till.

“Yeah, it was great,” he says after that moment of quiet, and you smile. Good. You’re glad they enjoyed it.

“I’m really happy to hear that,” you say, genuine and bright.

“What’s actually in the, ah, Candy Cane Dreams?” Yoongi asks, and you laugh, leaning forward conspiratorially.

“It’s horrendous,” you say in a low voice, as if you’re sharing a secret. “Have you ever seen green hot chocolate before?”

You’ve never spoken to Yoongi like this, easy and light, and it’s… nice. He gives no indication of surprise at your sudden friendliness after months of barely talking. If anything he looks pleased, and at one point he even gives you a smile you’ve never seen before, wide and wonderful, flashing his teeth and gums. (The crush gremlin rattles at your ribcage like prison bars, trying desperately to escape, but you don’t give it a chance.)

“Alright, let me just swap with the other barista, he’s still not gotten the Candy Cane Dreams recipe down.”

You hear a suspicious crunch as you make your way over to Taehyung. He turns to you with a guilty smile, edged with sugar, munching on shards of candy cane while his back is to the customers.

“You’re terrible,” you say affectionately. “Go take over on the till, I have a special to make.”

Taehyung glances over, sees Yoongi making his way down to the collection point. “Huh. Alright.”

The Candy Cane Dreams recipe might be a questionable one, but it’s definitely fun to make (watching the white hot chocolate turn green makes you feel like a kid all over again, mixing shampoos together in your bathroom and calling them potions), and maybe you’re overly generous with the candy cane bark, giving Yoongi’s beau more to nibble on and enjoy. It’s not Christmas yet but you’re already in a giving mood, so sue you.

“Here you go.” You slide the drinks towards him, the man busy reading one of the vacancy fliers, eyes flicking away from the poster when you appear. Your lips quirk up. “Looking for a job?”

You’re expecting a huff of a laugh, a small shake of the head, but he answers you seriously. “Not me, but I have a friend who is,” he says, reaching to take the tray.

You realise your hands are still curled around the cardboard; you quickly pull away so that there’s no chance your hands will brush. (You might have shoved your crush down as far as it will go, but you have to be careful with your weak, gooey heart.)

“We could do with any help, honestly. Your friend is more than welcome to apply.” You glance over at the queue, which is small but ever present, and you know it’ll only get worse as time goes on. “And, hey, if you ever decide for a change of pace from whatever it is you do, we’d be glad to have you, too.”

This gets a laugh from him, a warm burst of sound. (The gremlin points out that this is the first time you’ve heard him laugh, really laugh, a little raspy and a little quiet and altogether lovely; you beat the gremlin back with a stick.) “I’m better at drinking coffee than I am at making it,” Yoongi says, eyes soft with lingering amusement. “I’ll leave that to the experts.”

You might have gone off script, but the nod he gives you is his usual one, that familiar tilt of the head. “See you next week?” His eyes are dark, dark and deep, and it’s so hard not to fall into them, to fall all over again.

“See you next week,” you echo, hoping the smile you plaster on your face doesn’t look as forced as it feels, as you struggle once more. Yoongi is just nice, okay? He's just being nice, but still. He needs to let a girl breathe.

(He needs to let the gremlin of her crush wither away, instead of making it threaten to come back as strong as before, fuelled by his smile and his eyes and his everything.)

(... maybe you’re not as over this crush as you thought you were.)

It seems like the we’re hiring! posters actually worked.

“I’m Jungkook,” says the new starter, all crooked smiles and warm eyes and thighs so thick they threaten to split the trousers of the café’s uniform, ties of his apron emphasising his small waist.

(“Good lord,” Taehyung says faintly.)

It’s the last week of November and even though Jungkook is still learning the ropes, he’s a massive help, and you know he’ll be a lifesaver over Christmas. He’s eager, learns quickly, and gets stuck right in, material of his shirt straining across his shoulder blades when he rips a bag of coffee beans open with his bare hands, rather than having to use scissors like you or Taehyung.

Taehyung watches with stars in his eyes as Jungkook pours the beans into the grinder. You cover your smile by sipping at one of the espresso shots Jungkook has pulled—full-bodied and dark, rich in your mouth.

“This is really good, Jungkook,” you say. He looks over, eyes squeezing into a smile.

“Thought it would be,” he says, and you can’t help but huff a laugh into the tiny espresso cup. He’s cocky and competitive, telling you that he’d never made coffee before but he was going to do a better job than any of the other baristas here. He’s too endearing to come across as arrogant, though, and you have to admit that the coffee is good. (Not as good as yours or Taehyung’s, of course, but still. Pretty good.)

Taehyung coos at him and reaches out to shamelessly squeeze his bicep. “Jungkookie is a natural barista.”

Jungkook’s cocky smile turns equal parts pleased and flustered. You continue to sip at the espresso as Taehyung moons over him, then the bell above the door rings, and the mooning temporarily is put on hold. (Temporarily, because Taehyung continues to moon over him for the rest of the shift, insisting on doing the bulk of his training, which is fine by you.)

It’s the 1st of December tomorrow, so not only do you have to clean after the café is locked up, you have to put out all the Christmas decorations, too. But it’s more fun that it is work, the three of you dragging the tree out of the storage room and decorating it with a menagerie of tinsel and baubles; Jungkook lifts Taehyung so he can get the star on the tree, wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s waist and hoisting him up effortlessly, leaving your friend with a pleased smile on his face.

Jungkook is new, only on his second shift, but he’s slotted in so easily. He laughs at Taehyung when he wiggles his butt along to the Christmas songs you've put on to play, and he helps steady the stepladder as you string garlands of snowflakes on the ceiling, even if he doesn’t really need to.

He absently readjusts the reindeer headband Taehyung had unearthed from the storage room and proudly placed on his head. “Yoongi-hyung talks a lot about this place,” Jungkook comments, offhand.

If you’d heard this a few weeks ago, you probably would have fallen off the stepladder, inner gremlin grabbing your heart with both hands and squeezing tight-tight-tight. As it is you only pause for a moment, one of the larger snowflakes cradled in your palm, before you go back to your job of hanging them up.

“So you’re the friend he mentioned that needed a job,” you say.

“That’s me.” Jungkook grins, boyish and bright, and you laugh. “He really, really likes this café. Wouldn’t shut up about it, even before he told me that you were hiring.”

You can’t imagine Yoongi gushing about a café to his friends, but then again, he clearly is passionate about his coffee. Jungkook will know him better than you, having a real friendship rather than this patron-and-customer back-and-forth that you’ve had, so who are you to imagine what’s normal for Yoongi and what isn’t? You didn’t even know he was in a relationship, after all. You don’t know anything about the guy, really.

“Well, we appreciate his custom,” you say. “I know Yoongi is the one who actually comes in, but you can thank his other half, too, and I hope they enjoy their drinks as well.”

You’re too busy hanging the garland to see the way Jungkook’s face twists.

“Huh?”

“You know. Yoongi always comes in for his Americano and the weekly special for his partner,” you say.

You’re focused on stepping down the ladder without falling to see the expression on Jungkook’s face, nose scrunched and lips pursed, like there’s something he’s smelled that he really doesn’t like.

“Did he say that to you? That it was for someone else?”

“Hm?” You pause in grabbing another string of snowflakes, glancing up. “Oh, no, I just worked it out, you know? Yoongi is a religious coffee drinker, why else would he order something that’s basically hot sugar water? I think it’s cute,” you add, belatedly. “That he always comes in to grab something for them, too.”

(You wish you had someone to do that for you.)

There’s a beat of silence. Jungkook’s holding the stepladder, ready to move it, staring at you in a way that’s weirdly intense. “I see,” he says, like that isn’t weird or mysterious at all.

Then he drags the stepladder’s rubber feet across the floor with such a loud noise that Taehyung startles, bauble falling out of his hand and shattering. Jungkook, of course, profusely apologises and insists on cleaning it up—but not before making sure Taehyung is okay, of course, grabbing his hands and looking over them, as if the bauble had broken in his palms and not the floor.

Taehyung looks immensely pleased. You just smile quietly to yourself, roll your eyes lightly, and go back to hanging snowflakes as Jungkook speaks to Taehyung, soft and low.

You think your favourite thing about training a new starter is witnessing their reaction to the weekly special.

“So,” Jungkook says, slowly. “You put in the whole gingerbread man—gumdrops and icing and all—and just blend it?

“Yep.” Taehyung’s reply is cheery. “Straight in and whizz it all up.”

This week, it’s You Can’t Catch Me, I’m the Gingerbread Frappé which is a) probably the longest name known to mankind and b) probably the most questionable name known to mankind and c) who orders a frappé in December?

These thoughts are clearly playing across Jungkook’s face as Taehyung coaxes him to drop the gingerbread man into the blender, and you’re too busy enjoying the consternation on Jungkook’s face to notice someone stepping up to the counter—until they clear their throat, that is, and you all turn.

“Hi,” Yoongi says.

“Oh! Hi,” Taehyung says.

“Hyung! Look!” Jungkook says.

“Jungkook, wait—” you say.

“Whirr,” the lidless blender says.

It’s chaos. Frappé ends up everywhere, splattered over the counter and the floor, splashed across the wine-red aprons of both of your fellow baristas, as close to the blender as they were—saving you from any of the sugary fallout, unwitting human shields.

There’s a beat of silence, where you all stare at each other—

And then Yoongi laughs.

You’ve never seen Yoongi laugh this loudly, eyes squeezed so hard you wonder if he can even see, almost cackling as he laughs at Jungkook’s expression, joyful and loud and free. It’s another dimension to him, another new part you witness as Jungkook wipes gingerbread and ice off his face and Taehyung stares at the mess spattered across his hands and arms.

It makes you think of a paper crane. Yoongi is this unfinished thing in your mind, each new thing you learn about him another fold that you add, a flat sheet of paper turned into something entirely and wholly new. You wish that it weren’t so alluring, watching it come together, finding out more and more about this man you’ve technically known for months, but only recently started to get to know.

(You wish that it wasn’t so easy to keep falling for him.)

Once the counter is cleaned, both Jungkook and Taehyung retreat to replace their aprons, leaving you—once again—alone with Yoongi. He’d stopped laughing to tease Jungkook, to gently rib him, but you can see the smile that’s etched on his face, the echoes of mirth written across all his features.

“We usually train the baristas to keep the lid on, I swear,” you say, and Yoongi’s face splits into another smile.

“I was going to say that it’s an unorthodox blending technique,” and you can’t help but smile back at this, even if you’ve been trying not to laugh. Professionalism barely wins out, your lips trembling as you try to hold your giggling back, but Yoongi spots it anyway, looking pleased, like he’s accomplished something by getting you to (nearly) laugh.

You’re not laughing when you have to make one of the special frappés, though. You stare at the gingerbread man as you hold him above the blender, at his cheery iced face and his cute little buttons (not the gumdrop buttons), and brace yourself to drop him.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, and let him go, before quickly slamming the lid on top and turning the blender on so you don’t have to look at the betrayal you’ve just committed.

When you turn, Yoongi has an expression of sympathy on his face; for you or the gingerbread man, you can’t tell, but his face smooths the second he notices you looking at him, blinking innocently, as if there’s nothing unusual going on. It’s disarming, seeing that expression on his face, when you’d gotten used to seeing him act more reserved, but it’s cute.

(It is cute, whether you’re crushing on him or not. It’s just a statement of fact, okay? It’s nothing more than that. Even if that tiny gremlin of a crush still lives in your chest, scuffing its feet against your heart, reminding you of its presence when you least need it.)

(It digs its heels in when you put the frappé and Americano side by side, nestled snug in their cardboard tray. You slide it towards Yoongi and you’re a little too slow, fingers brushing his when he reaches for them; you’re surprised by how quickly he moves, how eager he seems to be reaching for his order, fingertips dragging across the back of your knuckles, and the gremlin kicks your heart, pulse rising just at that glancing touch. Even if you know it’s fruitless, useless, you can’t help but like Yoongi anyway.)

(“See you next week,” he says, and you can’t do anything but smile helplessly back.)

You normally love snow. You love waking up to the sight of it, pure and pristine white, adding another dimension to your familiar world—you love snowball fights and snowmen and snow angels, even if it all leaves you feeling cold, chilled right to the bone, nose running and hands freezing. The best part about winter is getting warm again, the season of throw blankets and hot water bottles, knitwear and scarves, tea and hot cocoa, all cosy and lovely and wonderful.

It’s a bit different when you have to work all day, though. You watch as the snow on the streets outside is threatened by the spray of salt and a thousand spinning car wheels and busy feet, ice turned to slush water; for now the snow is winning, though, and judging from the weather forecast, you think that’ll be the case for the rest of the day. You hope it lasts through to tomorrow, too; by the time you get home you’ll be too tired and it’ll be too dark to play in the snow, and it leaves you feeling disappointed and sad.

(Winter is lovely but it can be a hollow season, too, something about the leafless trees and fogged windows making everything feel like an empty dream.)

At least Paradise is warm, even if you’re cooped up inside, safe from the still-falling snow that keeps trying to turn the world into an untouched, frozen wonderland. It’s quiet in the coffee shop today. Only the bravest of people have ventured out into the not-a-blizzard-but-basically-a-blizzard, plastered against radiators and putting drinks to their faces, letting hot steam heat their cold cheeks.

It’s why you’re both surprised and unsurprised when Yoongi appears, bell chiming above his head as the door swings shut and he stamps his feet on the front mat, knocking snow off his boots. He somehow looks disgruntled and soft all at the same time, a royal blue beanie on his head forcing his fringe down to sit messily over his eyes, bundled up warm even if his face is scrunched up and his cheeks are red from the cold.

“I hate cold weather,” he tells you once he reaches the counter, gloves peeled off his fingers so he can reach for his wallet, his nose tinged pink as he sniffs.

You proffer him a box of tissues. “You look like you need it,” you say gently, and he smiles at you, a warm hearth in the cold winter.

“Thank you.” His voice is equally as gentle as yours, and something aches in your chest.

It’s just you behind the counter right now, so you take Yoongi’s order and make the drinks too—one large Americano and one large Latteggnog (a basic latte made with eggnog instead of milk, rich and thick and creamy), this week’s special: everyone’s favourite Christmas drink, but with a twist of coffee.

The quiet gives you time to think. Jungkook and Taehyung are out back, the older barista coming up with the most ridiculous excuses to take them away from the counter; you don’t mind that they’re taking the time ‘counting the coffee beans’, as deserted as the café is.

The café is practically empty and Yoongi hates the cold but here he is, venturing into the ice and snow to get this person he cares about the drink they want, because they’re that special to him. (You hope they realise how lucky they are.)

You’re normally okay being single. Don’t really think about it. But there’s something about today, this moment, that has you reflecting; Taehyung has this budding thing with Jungkook, Yoongi has this steady thing with his love, and here you are, by yourself, alone. It’s hard to summon up your usual energy, going through the motions as you make the drinks. You tilt your head forward, dusting nutmeg on the eggnog latte, watching the way the sprinkle of spice settles delicately and softly in the foam. No flourish, no flick of the wrist, not today.

(There’s two cups in front of you now, but later, when you’re home, there’s just going to be one. Yours. Yours, and no one else’s.)

(When you get home, you’re going to do what any self-respecting single person would do: order too much takeaway, rewatch The Good Place, get emotional over Eleanor and Chidi’s relationship—they’re so different but they’re so perfect for each other, why can’t you have that?—mope for a bit, rewatch The Princess Bride, get emotional over Westley and Buttercup—where’s your cute farmboy who saves you from an evil prince?—mope a bit more, before finally climbing into bed and hugging a pillow to your chest in the space of having someone else there. You know. Perfectly normal single person things.)

When you turn to Yoongi, drinks ready and raring to go, you’ve forced a Customer Service Smile onto your face. They say that just the act of smiling makes you happier, right? Maybe if you smile hard enough, you’ll cheer up, chasing away this sudden sadness that lingers in the back of your throat, scratching at your lungs like black ice.

“Here you go!” Your voice seems too loud for the quiet hush of the café, but you roll with it anyway. “Enjoy your drinks!”

Yoongi takes them from you, hands carefully cupped around the tray, but his eyes don’t leave your face. He doesn’t return your smile, as convincing as it should be (even Taehyung struggles to tell between your real smile and your work smile, sometimes); he stands for a moment, looking at you.

You think he’s about to say something when he clearly thinks better of it. He tilts his head, like he always does, but you’d swear his expression is tinged with concern. “Thanks,” he says. Pauses. “The roads are really icy. Get home safe, okay Y/n?”

Blink, blink. Your eyelashes flutter. You suddenly realise that he’s never said your name out loud, never had a need to, even if he must have known it all along from the badge on your chest. It sounds so good in his mouth, soft and safe.

“Oh,” you say, slow with surprise. “Thank you. I will. You, too.”

Yoongi nods again, as if to himself, before he turns to go.

He stops one more time before he goes. He stands at the open door, glances over his shoulder before he steps out, dark eyes meeting yours, as if checking that you’re still there, still tethered to the ground. Seems satisfied when he finds that you are. He gives you one last smile, all soft around the edges—that’s something you know intimately about Yoongi, that he’s soft through and through, even if he can look sharp, as cold as the ice outside—and then he goes, back into the falling snow to deliver a steaming sip of warmth into the hands of the person he loves.

(Your heart aches.)

It’s the week before Christmas. The whole world has that feeling it always does at this time of year—excited and bright, if a little frantic, the hanging lights in the city a backdrop to people’s last minute shopping, their breaths pluming out into the air as they rush around in the cold. The whole world feels full of life, that final push towards the end of the year; the hearth fire of Christmas before that weird in between before the new year, that held breath of potential, before the clock ticks over and the world is thrown into the next year.

Paradise has been busy. It’s like summer, only instead of sundresses and shorts, everyone is in knitwear and scarves, shivering as they wait to be served, desperate for a drink to warm them up, something to eat to fill their bellies. You spend more time in the coffee shop than you do at home, pulling overtime shifts to help your fellow baristas out—everyone thinks Christmas is a time of relaxation and coming together, but it doesn’t feel like that when you work in a customer facing job, oh no. It’s just non-stop busyness and being rushed off your feet.

(You’d barely had a chance to speak to Yoongi, café full when he’d stepped in, your pace frenetic as you’d danced around behind the counter with Taehyung and Jungkook; you’d slid his drinks towards him, his Americano and the special, and maybe your smile had looked more harrowed than you thought because he’d caught your hand and squeezed it.

“I hope you get a chance to rest over Christmas,” he’d said, concerned and sincere, as you’d stood in stunned silence, not expecting that almost-intimate touch, gentle against your skin.

“I will,” you’d said eventually. Yoongi had seemed to suddenly realise he was still touching you, fingers clasped around yours, and he’d withdrawn quickly, giving you a smile that felt like a whispered secret, before leaving you to deal with the ever-growing queue.)

Suffice to say, it’s been a long week, and you’re tired, and your feet hurt after all the running around you’ve been doing, and you just want to go home. You just need to finish the close, need to finish setting everything up for the open tomorrow, need to finish cleaning everything, and then you can get some sleep.

At least, that’s what you thought. Instead, you’re standing across from Jungkook and staring at him incredulously. You can feel a headache coming on.

“Wait.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “What do you mean, we need to deliver some coffee?”

You don’t know if Jungkook is being deliberately obtuse, but he just stares at you as if you’re the one talking nonsense right now, and not him. “We have a customer order to deliver,” he says.

“Yes, I gathered that,” you say. “I just mean, why did no one tell me sooner?”

Paradise doesn’t do deliveries, as such. You cater for events, and you technically do deliveries then, but it’s less ‘one coffee to go’ and more ‘enough sandwiches and pastries and bagels and coffee to feed an entire office’. It’s not that you can’t bring someone their order directly, it’s more that you just… don’t.

“Taehyung took the order,” Jungkook says, as if that explains everything.

You pinch the bridge of your nose again. You can’t ask Tae about it, the other man having had to leave just as you’d been about to flip the sign to closed (‘Jimin says Tannie peed in his shoes again! I have to go clean it up! I’m so sorry, I swear I’ll cover a close for each of you next time!’), so it’s just you, and Jungkook, and the slip of paper on the counter between you. You’ve worked with Taehyung long enough to trust his judgement and his decisions, as inexplicable as they might seem sometimes, but you do think it’s weird that he’s taken this delivery on board.

“It’s not too far from here,” Jungkook adds, peering at the address on the paper. “It won’t take long.”

“We have to finish closing, Jungkook,” you say.

He shrugs casually, carelessly. “I’ll do it, I don’t mind. You can just do the delivery and then go home straight after, it’s whatever.”

“It’s not whatever,” you mumble. “Why can’t you deliver it?”

“You’re the senior barista, you’re a better representative of the brand,” he says, and you have no idea where he pulled that from. (You blame Jimin. You know they’ve had shifts together, and Jimin is too smooth-talking for his own good.)

As much as you want to argue, you can’t help but cave, because the prospect of getting home early is one that you’re not about to sniff at. (You’d worry that Jungkook would get home late, what with the amount of prep he still needs to do for tomorrow, but you half suspect that Taehyung will reappear at some point, anyway.) You’re too tired to want to argue. “I just want to say this is a one off, and normally we cater for events, we’re not really a delivery service, okay?”

“Duly noted.”

It’s a simple enough order, anyway—it’s just two drinks. The first is a large quad shot latte with caramel and toffee syrup, extra whipped cream and cinnamon on top (something you’d definitely order, you think, indulgent and milky and with enough caffeine to kick you up the ass). Jungkook dutifully cleans as you start the second drink. The special this week is far, far less sweet than normal; a Rudolph the Red-eyed Reindeer: a simple red eye with a pinch of holiday spice, coffee with an extra espresso shot and topped with cinnamon and nutmeg. You take in a deep breath, swallowing down the warm smell and letting it flow through you before you double check the details on the note.

It takes you a second as you squint at the address, wondering why it looks familiar—and then you pause. This is Yoongi’s office, you think to yourself, and it feels a little like there’s an apricot pit sitting heavy in your stomach, heavy and hard. Paradise had catered a breakfast for them last week, and it hadn’t been on your shift and so you hadn’t gone, but—you’d heard enough about it from Jimin, the type who gets to know everyone and everything the second he walks in the door. You’d heard about the team that Yoongi manages, found out that Yoongi works in music, in artist and repertoire, and when you’d had the chance to Google exactly what that meant, you’d been bowled over. He has such a complex, high skilled job, and here you are, struggling to get a job with your degree, hence the barista thing. (Thanks, economy.)

You hastily shuffle past the address, trying to ward off your sudden sense of inadequacy, focusing on the name instead. What sort of name is Suga? you think to yourself, and then shrug. Probably one of the workers had enjoyed the breakfast the other week and was still hanging around before going on holiday for Christmas, or something.

“Alright, I’m off.” You’re ready to advance into the cold outside: coat on, scarf looped around your neck and hat secure on your head, cardboard tray of drinks clutched in your hands. “If you need help closing, just call me and I’ll come back, okay?”

“I won’t, but, thanks,” Jungkook says, equal parts self-assured and reassuring. “Don’t fall on your ass!”

It is icy outside, the entire world a winter wonderland, beautiful but cold and daylight long gone; snow drifts slowly from the sky above, dusting your shoulders and the top of your hat, flakes caught so softly by the weave of your clothes. It’s the kind of day that’s perfect spent indoors, curled up with the people you love, warmed through and through—and here you are, picking your way across the pavement slush to deliver a coffee to someone. (You’re not even getting paid for this.)

At least it’s not too far, really, just a few blocks away. The building is small, which is a plus, because it means you won’t have multitudes of rooms and offices to trawl past to get to your destination. The receptionist is more than helpful, too, when you say that you have a delivery for Suga; she gives you exactly directions and then she smiles at you, pleasant and pretty and lovely, and that gremlin that’s still clinging desperately onto your feelings for Yoongi whispers: what if this is Yoongi’s girlfriend? She’s beautiful.

Shut up, you think, before smiling back and thanking her, and heading on your way.

This close to Christmas you’d think that the building would be almost empty, but you’d be wrong. It’s not a buzzing hive of activity but there are still people walking around, speaking behind closed doors or laughing through open ones, decorations and tinsel hanging from the ceiling. Up ahead you see a someone come out of a room, shutting the door behind them before they walk in your direction. It’s a man who looks like he’s just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine and as you pass in the corridor he pauses, raising his eyebrows at you. Not suspicious, just surprised.

“Uh, I have a coffee for Suga,” you say without prompting, as if he was about to accuse you of some sort of nefarious scheme and your coffee delivery is the only thing saving you from that.

“Oh,” mister-model-handsome says, suddenly smiling widely, like this is all perfectly normal and not weird at all. He’s got some of the poutiest lips you’ve ever seen. “You’re nearly there, he’s just down the corridor and on the right. Have fun!”

“Uh, you too?” you reply. (Is he Yoongi’s boyfriend? He’s tall and broad shouldered and incredibly attractive, with the type of smile that makes people’s hearts race, and Yoongi definitely deserves someone like that.)

Your destination seems to be the office the (probably) model just came out of. You look around the corridor, which seems to be deserted now, the hubbub of people elsewhere in the building. You knock quietly, not wanting to disturb the hush that’s filled the air around you.

A beat. Then: “Come in,” someone says, voice muffled through the door.

It swings open easily at your touch. You stand on the threshold, mouth open around the announcement of your delivery when the words die on your lips.

Yoongi’s there, sitting behind a desk and his head bowed as he scribbles something in a notebook. He doesn’t look up. “Shut the door,” he says. Dumbstruck, you do just that, and it’s not until the door’s quietly clicked shut that he starts to raise his head. “Hyung, I already said that I don’t need to eat—”

And then he spots you standing there.

He stops mid-sentence, mouth open, eyes widening. He looks as shocked as you feel, utterly taken aback and agog, and even now you can’t help but notice how good he looks. He’s in a black button up, sleeves rolled to the elbow and top button undone, revealing the pale skin of his collarbones. It’s another juxtaposition, the Yoongi that you’re familiar with (an aura of effortless authority and attractiveness) in a place you don’t know at all, completely professional, his desk neat and the entire space put together. There’s a tastefully decorated tree in the corner but it doesn’t throw off the balance of the room at all.

“Uh.” You cough lightly. “I have… a delivery… for Suga?”

Yoongi stares at you.

“Is this… not the right room? I can go,” you mumble, gesturing over your shoulder with a thumb.

This seems to snap Yoongi out of whatever thoughts he was having as he shakes his head. “No, this is… Suga’s office,” he says. “I just didn’t order any coffee.”

You open your mouth. Shut your mouth. You don’t have an Americano on the tray, but he’d probably like the red eye, coffee with extra coffee, no sugar or cream. Just a little pinch of spice.

“Maybe it was a surprise, or something? Couples get each other gifts all the time.”

Yoongi’s lips quirk up. “I’m not really the type that gets surprised with gifts.”

Something about this strikes a discordant note in you. He’s always delivering gifts of coffee—he deserves those expressions of love returned to him. You can’t help but say as such.

“You’re always giving gifts, though,” you say. “Those weekly specials. I wouldn’t be surprised if your other half is returning the favour.”

Blink, blink. He looks perplexed. “I don’t have an other half?”

Your mouth opens again. “Uh,” you say eloquently. “What?”

“I… don’t have an other half? I’m… single?”

“You’re…” Your face scrunches up, wrinkled in confusion. What? He’s… what? “But you always buy two drinks?”

Silence. Then: “I… the Americano is for me,” he says. “I usually just pour the special away. I only started ordering them because you got so excited talking about them and making them. I never planned on drinking them.”

Your mouth falls open, soft around a quiet breath, a soft oh. “You—wait. You ordered them because I got excited about them?”

Yoongi’s eyes are so dark, so gentle; melted chocolate, warm. “You started to talk to me more, after the first time I did,” he says, and you know you had. Because you thought it was safer to talk to him, though you were secure in the knowledge he wasn’t single—but he is single. “So I kept doing it, because I wanted to talk more to you. I thought you knew? And that’s why you started having real conversations with me.”

You’re frozen in place, eyes as big as dinner plates. Min Yoongi, your futile crush, who looks as sharp as a knife but is as sweet as spun candyfloss, has been coming back week after week—for you. He’s not in a relationship, and he’s been flirting with you.

Or at least he thought he had been. You, however, hadn’t even realised.

“I was going to ask you on a date after Christmas,” he continues, calm and steady, as if your brain isn’t melting. He’s still sitting behind his desk, and there’s something about his tousled hair and bared lower arms—watch on one wrist and a few bracelets on the other—that has your heart pounding, that casual air somehow not at odds at the weight of the surroundings. Because the world is a backdrop to Yoongi, and he makes it work.

“What the fuck,” you say. You realise you’ve never sworn in front of him when something flickers in his eyes; not a bad flicker, no. Definitely not. “I thought you were taken.”

“I’m very single,” he says lightly, belying the weight behind the words. And then his eyes drop to your hands. “You said you have a coffee for me?”

Which leads to this: Yoongi, in his chair, you, leaning against his desk. He’s taken the red eye (of course) while you sip at the latte, relishing the punch of espresso, the flavour of the syrups.

You’re both staring at each other as you drink, air in the room growing thicker by the moment, when Yoongi breaks the silence. “This is probably the only weekly special I’d actually want to drink.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Black coffee with more espresso? That’s you all over,” you say. “The other specials aren’t so bad, though. I think you just need to give sweet drinks a chance.”

You’re speaking without thinking, but the second those words leave your mouth, the air turns electric. Yoongi’s still staring at you, unwavering and intent, and everything inside you is melting, leaving you flushed and hot. The smile hasn’t left his face, which had been warm but it’s changed, evolved, edged with something sharper.

“If you say so,” he says. His eyes are on your lips. “Let me try?”

His fingers are so gentle on your face, hands cupping your jaw as he tilts your head down. All your thoughts leave you. There’s nothing in your mind but Yoongi, his warm hands and dark eyes, the heat of his body so close to yours, his mouth; you can’t help but look down, tracing the shape of his lips with your gaze, a small soft pout that’s so at odds with the weight of his intensity.

When he kisses you, it’s featherlight. Barely the softest of pressures, the potential of something more—and then he pulls you in deeper, and there it is, that heat flickering in your stomach jumping into a full fire. The kiss turns hot and wet as he licks the flavour of caramel and toffee syrup out of your mouth, and he tastes like coffee, dark and bitter; you make a noise against his lips and he swallows it down, pulls you closer.

You’re straddling his knees, a little awkward and cramped in his office chair, but you don’t care. You’ve been wanting to kiss Yoongi for so long, even when you felt like you shouldn’t, thought about his dark eyes and pink mouth, the curve of his lips, the paleness of his hands; a steadying presence around your waist, holding you in place.

When you pull apart, Yoongi’s lips are flushed, kiss swollen. It looks good on him. Really good on him.

“I’ve thought about that more than I’d like to admit,” he says, and you can’t help but feel warmed by it, the realisation that you’ve wanted to kiss him but he’s wanted to kiss you, too.

“This really isn’t comfortable,” you say, wriggling a little—your ass is starting to go numb, sat on Yoongi’s knees—and Yoongi sucks in a quick breath at the way you’re all but squirming in his lap, even if he doesn’t say anything.

Oh, you think.

When you move away, he lets you go without protest, hands sliding off your waist. It’s not until you fall to your knees that Yoongi realises what you’re doing, his eyes widening.

“Y/n,” he breathes. “You don’t have to—”

“Please, Yoongi, I’ve wanted to do this for months,” you say. Maybe it was a little crass to start with, wanting to get on your knees for a man you barely knew just because he was hot and polite to you, but now you know he wants you back. You’re not about to let this opportunity pass you by, staring up at him between his knees, hands braced on his thighs. “But if you want me to stop, I’ll stop.”

He looks torn, just for a second, eyes darting away from your face and to the door. It’s shut, but it’s not locked, and though the building is quiet there’s nothing to say that someone couldn’t walk in at any second.

Without thinking, you lick your lips. Yoongi’s eyes flicker back at the motion, watching how your tongue moves, and you can see how he crumbles.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he says, and you dig your nails into his trousers, electricity shooting through you.

“You’ll have to keep your voice down,” you warn, and reach for his zipper.

It’s a struggle for him, you can tell. He’s already biting his lip by the time you’ve tugged his trousers and boxers down, hardening under your grasp, and you knew his dick would be as pretty as the rest of him. You don’t have the luxury of worshipping him the way you want to, acutely aware of the fact you’re in his office, but it doesn’t mean you’re not going to make Yoongi feel good. It’s dirty and messy, the way you suck his cock into your mouth lewd and wet, lavishing attention on the most sensitive parts; his hips jump as you circle the head with your tongue and jerk the rest of his length with a hand.

Everything’s sloppy with spit and precum and Yoongi’s biting off curses, hand tightening in your hair as you take in as much of him as you can, relaxing your throat and swallowing him down, down, down. When you look up at him through your lashes he looks wrecked, the paleness of his skin flushed pink, and you can’t wait to see that all over. Can’t wait to see Yoongi entirely bare in front of you, when you have the luxury of time and pleasure.

But there’s something about this, too, that has your heart racing, cunt throbbing. You’re running your spit slick lips down the side of his shaft, tonguing the throb of the vein there, when you hear footsteps nearby, muffled through the door. It doesn’t sound like they’re coming in this direction and Yoongi seems almost entirely lost to the feeling of your mouth on him, but you flick your tongue across the spot where the head of his cock meets the shaft and he bows forward, swallowing down the noise that threatened to spill from his lips. He’s so fucking hot like this, falling apart under your hands and mouth, and you know he’ll give as good as he gets.

“Gonna cum,” he rasps. You smile up at him before taking his cock back into your mouth, jerking him off hard and fast as you lick and suck—and when he cums it’s with a noisy exhale of breath, a muffled groan, and even as you’re swallowing down his cum and mouthing at him until he winces with oversensitivity, you’re imagining what he sounds like when he doesn’t have to be quiet.

He’s not shy, either. You’ve barely tucked him back in when he’s reaching for you, kissing you. There’s no taste of coffee any more and you shiver, molten and boneless at the way his tongue presses into your mouth.

“Still want to take me on a date?”

You’re being cheeky, voice light as you joke, but Yoongi’s responding look is equal parts serious and affectionate. He sweeps a thumb over your cheekbone and you relax into his hands, feeling like a cat that got the cream. Here you are, on your knees in his office, the glittering lights of his Christmas tree thrown across your hair and skin, warmed by the touch of a man you’ve wanted for months but never thought you would get.

“Of course,” he murmurs, gentle-gentle-gentle, as if you hadn’t just sucked his soul through his dick—and you love that about him, love his inherent soft core, his big heart. You might not know him as well as you’d like—not yet—but you already know that much about him. “I owe you a present, too.”

Your face scrunches. “What, because I gave you a blowjob?”

At this he laughs, mouth split wide and gums on show as his whole body shakes with the intensity of it. “No, because you brought me a coffee,” he says. He still has your cheek cupped in his hand, palm warm against your skin. “But if you want to say it’s because of the blowjob as well, then sure.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from.” You smile at him, gentle expression at odds with the meaning behind the words and your position—still on your knees.

You don’t know if they ache when you stand, because Yoongi is kissing you again, distracting you. And it’s easy, this back and forth you have, comfortable as you finish the (now lukewarm) coffees and get ready to go, because Yoongi insists on walking you home. Because he’s a gentleman, your gentleman, and he even holds the door open for you.

You’re not sure if you can reach for his hand, if that would be too forward in his place of work, if he doesn’t want to when this thing between you is so tentative and new. But you’re barely halfway down the corridor when he stops you with a gentle hand on your arm; when you look over, he’s smiling at you, and then tilts his chin up.

“Oh!” You stare at the huge bundle of mistletoe above you, tied with red ribbon and messily taped to the ceiling. It brings a smile to your face. “Oh, how cute.”

The hand on your arm shifts down. Yoongi weaves his fingers with yours.

“You know about the tradition, right?” There’s a twinkle in his eyes, and it’s not just from the lights from the ceiling above, turning his dark eyes into warm chocolate, deep brown. “Kissing under the mistletoe?”

You can’t help but blink, surprised at his sweetness, his forwardness. There’s nothing to say that someone couldn’t walk by right now, to see the two of you hand in hand under the mistletoe, but Yoongi doesn’t care at all. He’s staring at you like you’re the only other person in the world, and you feel like a fountain of champagne is bubbling inside you, heady and sparkling and light.

“I think I’ve heard of it,” you say, and he’s still smiling, a small thing, just for you. “Do you think you can show me?”

And he does, with his hand in yours, your lips against his, and up above, the mistletoe sparkles.

(Your phone rings. Caller ID says it’s Taehyung, but when you pick up, he’s not the one who speaks.

“So.” Jungkook sounds knowing, his voice bordering on smug. “How did the delivery go?”

In the background you can hear someone crowding close, put it on speaker, Kookie, I want to hear too, and you can’t help but smile at Taehyung’s eagerness.

“Good,” you say. Yoongi’s palm is warm against yours and you swing your joint hands together, looking at him, entranced by the way the snowflakes dust his eyelashes. The sky above is dark and the wind around you is cold, but the man beside is so bright and warm. You feel wrapped up in it. “Yoongi says he’s going to kill you, by the way.”

“He won’t,” Jungkook says cheerfully, loud enough that Yoongi can hear. He looks fond.

“Well, tell Taehyung I’m going to kick his ass for lying about Tannie peeing on Jimin’s shoes,” you say.

“You won’t,” Taehyung says, equally as cheerful, and you can’t help but smile.

“No, I won’t,” you say.

You think about the seasons. You think about the man walking beside you; the man who says he hates cold weather, but has kept his gloves off so he can feel your hand against his. The man who came out in the snow to order a drink, just to make you smile. The man who looks like winter but feels like spring, something cold bursting into potential, new life.

In the depth of winter, under the snow and twinkling Christmas lights above, Yoongi squeezes your hand.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon @vensulove

#btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #magicshopnet #houseofddaeng #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts #yoongi au #bts au #yoongi #yoongi scenario #yoongi imagine #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #joy.masterlist #PLEASE feel free to message me with any typos or whatever and I'll get on those when I have a chance

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Note

A Bucky request for you queen: Reader takes Bucky to meet her family for the first time, and he’s already nervous, but he’s even more nervous when you ask if he wants to hold your sisters new baby bc he doesn’t wanna hurt the baby and he thinks he’s still damaged.

But eventually you convince him to hold the baby and then he sees how good you are and he thinks about having a family for the first time and things can either get fluffy or smutty, whatever u r feelin

Have a great day love!🤍

A/N: enjoy some soft fluff! 🥺

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

PART 2

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Bucky?” you stared at your reflection, putting your earrings in to complete the final outfit touch. You were getting ready to head over to your sister’s house in order to see her, her husband, and their newborn baby for the first time. You were excited to go, beyond ready to see her again and meet the newest addition to your family. Meanwhile Bucky was going through a series of emotions as he tried to ground himself and settle his nerves. He’d been reluctant to agree to go, not because he wasn’t happy to come, but more so because of the bundle of nerves that had welled up at the prospect of meeting a tiny, brand new life. As soon as he’d seen how your face light up in excitement at the prospect of going over, he couldn’t say no when you invited him to come with you. Then again, Bucky could never say no to you, “are you ready to go, my love?”

“I’m ready,” he agreed quickly as he stepped out of your shared bedroom, clearing his throat as he pulled on his leather jacket. You turned, flashing him a dazzling smile that still made him weak in the knees, when you noticed a worried expression on his face. You flounced over, hands going to his shoulders as you offered him a reassuring squeeze. You gazed into his eyes, trying to gauge what was going on in his mind when he let out a small huff. He knew you could read him like a book, “alright. I-I’m nervous about meeting...the baby.”

“James,” you reached up and rested your hand on his cheek, relaxing as he lightly keened into your touch. His hands found purchase on your waist as you leaned into him, brushing your lips against his, “you have nothing to be worried about. She’s just a baby, she’s got no right to judge and she won’t. She’ll see Uncle Bucky and fall right in love. Talk to me, love, tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re going to laugh,” he turned his gaze away, but you reached up and put your hand under his chin and shifted his gaze back to you, “it’s stupid.”

“I’m not going to laugh,” you insisted quietly, “you could tell me anything and it wouldn’t be stupid.”

“I just worry,” he sighed after a few beats of silence passed between the two of you, “what if...what if he’s still in there? Some small part of him and he...snaps. Or something. She’s going to be so small and all it would take it one little-”

“Bucky,” you reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly in your own before lacing your fingers together, “you are not him anymore - he is not you. He never was. You are James Buchanan Barnes and no one else. He is not a part of you anymore at all. You are free of all of that. You are good, you are. I know sometimes it’s harder to believe than others, but it is true.”

“I know,” he closed his eyes for a few moments, lashes fluttering against soft skin as a small sigh passed his lips. He squeezed your hand back before resting his head on your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his waist, “it’s just...I don’t want to have a moment of...weakness.”

“You won’t,” you insisted softly, “maybe right now you don’t need to believe in yourself, but can you believe in me?”

“Always,” you could feel him smiling lightly against your warm skin as he nodded.

“Good,” you pressed a kiss to the side of his head, “now, trust me because I trust you in you. Now, let’s go, otherwise we’ll be late and then then everyone will be mad.”

“Everyone’s going to be there?”

“Just my parents, my brother, my sister and her husband and the baby of course,” you stepped back and looked him over before leaning in and kissing him quickly, “they know you, Bucky. The real you and they love you. There’s nothing to fear. Might I also add that you look very handsome today. You’ll knock ‘em dead.”

“You look beautiful,” you just happened to be wearing one of the dresses he loved most on you. He’d never commented on it, but you’d seen the way his blue eyes had lit up when you’d first worn it. You figured it would be something to help ease his nerves, almost to ground him as you had a suspicion that he might be nervous. He’d gotten much more comfortable around your family over the last year, but you knew that his general anxiety and fears sometimes bubbled up, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you promised as you held your hand out towards him. He strode over slowly before taking your hand in his and inhaling and exhaling deeply. He could do this - you knew he could and he knew he could too. Your support had meant everything to him and have him that little push he needed to get over the lingering bit of insecurity he had.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“She’s so small,” you said softly as you held the small baby in your arms. She was sleeping soundly, her little lips forming a perfect pout as you rocked her gently, “she’s beautiful.”

“She better be,” your sister joked, “nine months and then 30 hours of labor - she better be beautiful!”

“You’re the worst,” your eyes widened in surprise before you giggled quietly, “how’s she been?”

“Aurora’s been so good,” she said and you traced over her chubby little cheeks, “lots of long days and nights and more dirty diapers than I care to admit, but she’s worth it. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“I can see why,” she was so small and tiny, a new life that had so much ahead of her. The idea made your heart melt, “it must all be terribly scary and exciting.”

“It is,” she agreed as she nudged your knee with hers, “what about you and Bucky? Ever think about starting a family of your own? You guys have been together for a while and it’s something to think about…”

“We’ve...vaguely discussed it,” you confessed, looking up just in time to spy Bucky casting a quick look at you. He was mid-conversation with your father and brother but shot you a soft smile before turning back to the conversation. Your breath caught in your throat as a warmth settled in your belly, setting off a course of butterflies. What you hadn’t seen was all of the other gentle, tender glances he’d been throwing your way since you’d gotten there. You sister cleared her throat before drawing your attention back in, “but umm...it’s never really gotten that far. I dunno what’s going to happen, but I like to think maybe one day we’ll get married. I don’t see a future with anyone else.”

“You really love him, don’t you?” she asked softly as you nodded, feeling a warmth creep up into your cheeks as you avoided looking at her face.

“I do,” you bit your lip as you stared at the small baby that had started cooing softly. Her eyes slowly opened as she nodded before looking around and smiling. She waved her chubby little arm around before reaching for your finger and curling her fist around it. You beamed at her before pressing a kiss to her forehead, “just like you already.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Bucky?” your voice was soft as you walked outside to the backyard where he was standing and watching the sun slowly setting and painting the sky in brilliant pinks and purples. He hesitated for the slightest of moments before turning to you with a half smile on his features.You were holding Aurora in your arms, and she was already back to being half asleep. His nerves shot up but he quickly calmed down when he realized how tranquil the portrait painted in front of him was. You made it all seem so easy and effortless - it was new and foreign to you too, but you were handling it so well. Maybe he could as well, “would you like to meet your niece? To hold her?”

“I don’t...I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said softly as you both took a few steps towards each other. You offered him a hopeful little smile as the baby opened her eyes and turned to look at Bucky. He met her eyes and she babbled excitedly at him. Suddenly, something within snapped as his whole demeanor shifted and his expression softened as he took in a shuddering breath. He could do this, he realized, he could do this.

“Bucky?” this was more hopeful and optimistic as he came towards you and cautiously held his arms open to you. He only nodded as you looked at him to make sure it was okay. Shifting the tiny human from your arms to his, you watched as Bucky took to water like a duck to water as he made sure she was secure in his grip. It was a sight to behold and you felt your heart beat wildly.

“She’s so...new,” was all he could get out as you laughed at him. He almost couldn’t take his eyes off her as you gave his shoulder a squeeze, “so tiny.”

“That’s kind of what a baby is,” you joked as you stuck your tongue out at him and he jokingly scoffed, “see, it’s all easy squeezy lemon peasy.”

“It’s not as hard as I thought,” he confessed after a few moments, “it feels…”

“Yeah,” you pressed a kiss to the side of his head as you finished for him after a few beats of peaceful silence, “I know.”

“Do you think I could have a few moments alone?” he asked as you nodded, standing back and admiring the sight of your boyfriend holding your niece. It struck up something within you and while you weren’t quite sure what it was, you couldn’t help but revel in it.

“I’ll be inside,” you promised, “dinner will be ready soon.If you need anything, just say the word and I’ll be right there.”

“I know,” he grinned, “I know.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Bucky watched you walk back inside and close the screen door, holding a hand up as he lightly waved back at you. A wary sigh escaped his lips as the baby watched him with nothing but curiosity in her eyes. He’d held babies before, in another life, one which was stolen from him but had led him here. But he wasn’t angry about that anymore; he’d spent many years in anger about it and he was past that. He knew, one of the things that had helped him out of that anger and hatred was you. If his cards had been played any differently, you wouldn’t have been a part of his, and you had slowly but definitely become one of the best parts of his life.

It felt so foreign but so right in that moment as he stared at the small life in his arms. He’d never really pictured himself with a family of his own, once in his old life he might have, but he hadn’t in a long time. With you, something had trickled in, slowly blooming over time to become stronger and stronger. And after seeing you with the baby, there was something in him that had come full circle. And as he looked at her little face, he couldn’t help but wonder what your own child would like. Would they have his eyes? His dark shock of hair? Or would they take after you? Either way, he knew whatever child the two of you might have would be beautiful.

“Hi Aurora,” he whispered to her as he allowed him to touch her cheek, finding the faith and trust deep within himself, “you’re still so new to this world. You don’t know about all the horrors and scary parts yet. But there are so many good things too, lots of beautiful things. I will do my best to protect you from all the bad parts, I promise. Whatever you need, I will be there.”

She smiled at him, a toothless, gummy thing as he beamed at her. Maybe...maybe one day this could be a reality for the two of you as well. Bucky let himself relax as it felt like a weight lifted off of his shoulders at the realization that he was okay. That nothing had happened and nothing would happen. He was okay...he was okay. He closed his eyes for a moment as he remembered how you looked holding her earlier. The sight had sparked something within him too; it was a sight he had thoroughly enjoyed seeing. For the first time in a long time, he had allowed himself to think that maybe he could have this too, that he could have a family and happiness of his own.

A sigh, this one contented and happy, escaped his lips as he cradled Aurora against his chest and watched the sun disappear behind the horizon, “I think maybe one day I could be a dad. I think..I think I’d like that. Especially after today...I feel like it could be an actual possibility. I was nervous about today - meeting you. I know it sounds silly, especially since you’re just...a baby. I wasn’t sure if I could...trust myself - it’s still hard sometimes. Not often but there are times. You helped me to see that maybe it’s not so hard after all. Whatever it is, I-I’m willing to try. Especially with your Aunt. You’re going to love her, you know. I do.I really, really do. I think she’s everything.”

“Bucky?” you poked your head out the door and beamed, “dinner’s ready!”

“Coming,” he slowly made his way back over to you. Opening the door wider, you ushered him inside, a hand going to the small of his back as he handed Aurora back over to your sister. He returned to your side, an arm snaking around your waist as he kissed the top of your head, “hi.”

“Hello my love,” you grinned back at him, “how’d it go? She seemed to like you...you seemed to like her…”

“I did,” he agreed, “we had a good talk. Well, I did most of the talking, but she’s a good listener.”

“Hmm,” you snorted in laughter, “you’re something else, Barnes.You’re lucky I love you so much.”

“I love you, sweetheart,” he leaned in so he could whisper in your ear, “maybe later we could talk. There’s some...things that have been on my mind for some time.”

“Bucky?” you gave him a confused look but he cut you off with a soft kiss to your lips, “everything alright?”

“Yes,” he promised gently, “everything is perfect.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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@qhbr2013 @greeneyedblondie44 @april-showers-and-flowers @softboiipascal @im-an-adult-ish @patzammit @niki-xie @xxlovingfandomsxx @startrekkingaroundasgard @welcometothepedroverse @actual-spawn-of-satan @punkerthanpascal @lazybeeches @someday-when-you-leave-me @justgivemethekeys @salome-c @rosiefridayrogersunday @neptunesglow @artsymaddie @haildoodles

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #tfatws

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feather-dancer · 3 years ago

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Tales of Arcadia fanfic recommendations part 7

It’s time for yet another round of recommendations! In this batch is the 80+ Rise of the Titans fics I read as part of the fanfic analysis which have their own section with Tales of Arcadia (Aka the TV part of the franchise) merged into one for ease sake. I’m currently on a bit of an older content binge on behest of someone which is giving me a break from RotT burnout, a few of which are on this list and the rest is already spilling into part 8 sitting in my drafts.

Hope you see something of interest!

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8

If at all interested in my own writing you can find it here!

Tales of Arcadia

A Thousand Years - A series of oneshots following the lives of Douxie and Zoe through the ages including some good old Zouxie fluff.

A Night Off; Comfort Zoe Night - Exactly as it says this is a bout of shameless Zouxie fluff because sometimes you have a bad day and there’s somebody who can treat you to a much nicer evening.

of poison, forest floors, and terrified wizards - It was just a simple errand for Merlin, one he’d done hundreds of times before so there was no reason to wake Archie from his nap and thus Hisirdoux Casperan went off alone. Even in his worst nightmares he couldn’t have expected being struck with poison designed to take out magic users.

Primordial Awakenings - We build our creations from the dead, give them names, offer them power then put them amongst the stars until we forget there was ever a before because the stories have already made them eternal. A delightful take on how the Order as we know might have come to be because sometimes you wonder what if they were birthed in the prehistoric?

Primordial Awakenings — Deleted Scenes - In case you need more content from the above :) This does contain Order ships of various directions.

Already Seen - Easy peasy, lemon squeezy Douxie is caught in the D'aja Vu as well and tries to figure out what the heck is causing it. Contains a little bit of Zouxie fluff.

Mama Bear - It is after Jim’s battle with Draal when Barbara catches sight of numerous bruises covering her son and along with all the other out of character incidents totting up of late naturally she thinks the worst.

Across the Stars - With Zadra now on earth and far away from home, she and Izita snatch the moments they can to to talk to one another. Zadita? Izadra? Genuinely no idea what the shorthand for the ship is.

Reading Wingman - Even the most experienced trolls can get caught out sometimes and in this case AAARRRGGHH shelters in the library. Adorable ensues.

Happy Birthday - Post Trollhunters season 3, everyone deserves a special treat on the anniversary of one of the worst days of your life and that includes Trollhunters.

heavy - Jim might have escaped the Darklands in body but the trauma continues to pursue through not only nightmares but all the way into the waking world too.

from now on - Post Trollhunters season 3, it was hard for Toby he and AAARRGGHH had been left behind but they try to struggle on anyway all the while counting down the days until their friends to come home.

Rise of the Titans

Unbecoming 2 Electric Boogaloo - There are always prices to pay and consequences for wanting to do the right thing if you choose to embrace selfishness instead of logic. You went too far back Jim Lake Jr., you were warned and the cold rush of reality is watching just out of sight to show you why.

Unlikely Places - They managed to stop the Titans with no losses despite it being very close leaving the Order in the very odd position of wrapping their heads around the After. For one former resident of Durio he’s about to find out just how they’re handling things first hand.

Tales of Arcadia: In Search of Home- After using diplomacy with a chance to right the wrongs of the world to bring Skrael on board he and Nari in turn offer the same to Bellroc . This leaves one Hisirdoux Casperan with two additional roommates, trying to make everyone comfortable as they experience new and fancy human things like pasta, earning your keep and the wonders of freezers.

A Better World - After jumping back in time Jim uses his prior knowledge to help nudge things in this timeline for the better with advice and jokes but always keeps the most precious (And painful) close to his chest. Sitting on the roof together one night Toby muses about this strange yet incredible life he’s led so far and what his best friend might have been through in his old one.

Time is a Fickle Thing... - When Jim used the time stone to go back he expected to wake up in his bed on the very same day he’d become the Trollhunter. Instead he awoke in the middle of the nearby woods little more than an observer of his 15 year old self armed with knowledge of the future and the determination to nudge the timeline for the better. This is of course assuming the second hand embarrassment doesn’t kill him first.

Minds are Troubled By The Emptiness - An epilogue for Nancy “Nana” Domzalski in a timeline that was not reset.

Tales of Arcadia: The Final Becoming - A complete rewrite of Rise of the Titans lets fucking go.

Lifting Atlas - It would be unwise to go back in time without a plan so one is cobbled together involving contacting Douxie as soon as possible, bring him on board and try to right the mistakes of the past to save everyone they lost. The trouble is you can’t run from the trauma that led to your best friend dying before your eyes, not even with time travel.

Content warning for the first chapter: There is mention of previous sexual assault and suicide that does not have an in fic warning nor is it tagged. It is mentioned during Jim’s conversation with Douxie and a second time in a vague way after the time jump when they meet up.

Stricklake

Without you there is no world - A oneshot series for Stricklake month following a range of themes from excellent sci-fi worldbuilding, dabbling in one of the author’s AUs, the perils of gravesand and closing with a rather well deserved dig at THAT scene from RotT.

stricklake month...2!!! - Do you want Stricklake that borders on domestic in a range of circumstances including big brother Jim? WELL.

Darling Play Your Violin - There is a saying that history repeats it’s self and it is certainly true for those who live long enough to feel it’s echoes. Sometimes you are given a second chance which turns bittersweet while another will be met with mirth but at least at the end of it all you can say you tried.

To family - Seeking to propose to Barbara, Strickler decides to ask someone dear to them both for permission due to their incredibly complicated background. A trio of toddlers act as witnesses oblivious to their big brother’s sass and plotting.

Parent conference day - Set post RotT, some memories are lingering in the form of dreams that once were, it just takes a chance encounter to start bringing sense to them.

Stricklake Baggage Babeyyyyyy - Walter Strickler is not an innocent changeling which is something Barbara is well aware of. The problem is sooner or later the question has to be asked no matter how scared you are of the reply: Did you kill Principal Levit?

Alternate Universe

"I'll Still be Here." - Once more falling into the “This isn’t technically AU but it doesn’t feel right to put it elsewhere somehow??” issue. Well before two boys will find an Amulet in the canals this is a reminder of how loved ones can be the best thing when anxiety brain gets ideas. Autistic Toby with a side order of Joby/Hammerhunter.

Daddy Issues - So Bular accidentally ended up adopting teeny Jim and it’s adorable.

The End Is the Beginning Is the End - After what should have been a fatal car accident Barbara is offered a choice: Perish or live by trading whatever her saviour decides. She might have thought it was the delusions of a dying mind but the consequences do not agree.

A Brief Reliving of Troll Lore - Camelot has gained unexpected time travelers darkening their doors except this is set in the 7th century and the journey home is going to be a whole lot rougher with survival just as important as preventing history being screwed up. This is a Jim centric fic.

#Trollhunters #3Below #Wizards #ToAWizards #Tales of Arcadia #Rise of the Titans

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a-sour-nectarine · 3 years ago

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It's midnight, and I'm cooking! No, I don't live alone, why do you ask?

Anyway,

THE EASY PEASIEST EGG DROP SOUP EVER

Yum yum it takes like, 10 minutes to make. And that includes the time it takes water to boil

INGREDIENTS--

Chicken bouillon, chick stock, chicken broth, non-chicken broth... whatever you wanna use. I use "Better than Boullion." No clue what the stuff is, but it's delicious.

An egg. Maybe two eggs. Whatever floats your culinary boat.

Some veggies, if you want. I use carrots, usually. Just frozen, or you can chop up some fresh one. My mom likes peas. Ooooh bok choy would be good.

Some choppy sticks. If you dont have any choppy sticks, you should invest in some, but also a fork probably works fine. But get yourself some chopsticks. There's no investment, actually, just steal some from panda express.

Soy sauce.

Uhhhh water. And a stove. And a small bowl.

DIRECTIONS

Boil some water. However much water you wanna eat. Or... your premade chicken stock. If you dont have anything premade, prepare bouillon as directed on the package.

Crack an egg or two into a small bowl, then set aside. Some people only use egg whites for egg drop soup, I say dump the whole thing in there. And I don't even like eggs.

Toss in your veggies once your water+broth element is boiling.

Add a dash of soy sauce.

Then, when your veggies are just about exactly how you want them, drop the eggs in. HERE'S THE TRICKY PART.

HOW TO DROP THE EGGS INTO YOUR EGG DROP SOUP.

First, is your bowl small? Good.

Second, hold the bowl in your non-dominant hand, and your chopsticks/fork in the other.

Pour SLOWLY into the broth with the one hand, while quickly whisking the broth right where you pour the eggs in with the other. Now you have droplets of eggs.

And that's it. Give your eggs a good ten seconds in their boiling water, then turn the stove off. You've made soup!

If needed, this soup is easy to make with stones to trick villagers into giving you ingredients to make stone soup. Just remove the stones before eating.

That's all! Easy peasy, lemon squeezy! Feed that idiot village with your stone soup, and maybe save some for later!

But seriously, when I got my wisdom teeth out, this stuff was all I ate. It's like nectar from.the gods for sore throats, or it's a real simple breakfast if you want, or you can dress it up and have a delicious eggy dinner! You can add all sorts of fun stuff to it, I just dumped a lil cayenne in mine, we'll see how that goes! Sesame oil? If that's your thing, that might be good! Maybe a hot sauce? Go crazy!

Update: cayenne?? Good. Nom nom

#ollie's recipes #lick some salt #egg drop soup

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sassy-author · 3 years ago

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stand by you [taeyongxoc]

genre: slice-of-life / young-adult / slowburn / fluff / bestfriends-au / pregnancy-au word count: 7.4k+

Taeyong and Haneul have been through thick and thin together. It would be an understatement to say that they are joined at the hip. But being best friends right now, Does not mean that everything will be rosy peachy lemon squeezy.

A foreshadowing break-up; A life-changing expectancy, A sudden secrecy.

What will happen to the two best friends? How will Haneul embrace her new life? How will Taeyong react?

Follow the story of Taeyong and Haneul, a fluffy slow-burn which depicts the concerns and differing feelings that surround pregnancy and an evolving friendship.

Take a deep breath, close your eyes, and let memories cloud your mind. Now, find your most precious memory. A smile just tugged onto your lips, didn’t it? Well, what if I told you that for Haneul, her fondest memories always came with a bitter sting to her heart. Now do not get me wrong, it does not mean that she looked back on her life with regret… quite the contrary.

Yearning for support and a sense of belonging is widely argued to be within a human’s basic intrinsic needs. Taeyong however, always made a point to stress how having a best friend should also be singled out as a human essential. On the other hand, Haneul would tease him and say that she could totally live without him, but since he was already in her life, she might as well keep him around.

Beneath their trust and tight relationship, Taeyong and Haneul actually started out hating each other. In retrospect, they both agree that there were no real reasons behind their sour first impressions; Haneul was ardent on the fact that Taeyong gave off the most arrogant aura back during their first year at university whilst Taeyong preached that Haneul had the most annoying resting-bitch-face.

Nearly seven years later, Taeyong works at an offshore company while Haneul is Human Resource Associate for a small yet well-established local company. Perhaps fate always worked its odds in their favour as their office happened to be neighbours, as if living down the same street was not enough. Henceforth, for the past seven years, Taeyong and Haneul grew attached by the hip, seeing each other nearly every day for lunch or even on their way home.

Seated at her patio, gaze lost on her two favourite persons in the whole world, Haneul smiled fondly as she started to wonder when exactly or how exactly Taeyong had taken such an important place in her life.

Flashback, one year prior.

The clear sky that shed upon the streets of Seoul announced yet another sweet night. Despite the lack of stars up in this black canvas, the air was warm with a refreshing breeze ever so often. The perfect ambiance for young couples to go on dates; explore a street night market or even stay home and cuddle up in front of a good movie. Haneul wished for it, she truly wanted to get back to the honeymoon phase but there she was, seated in her living room with her boyfriend, fighting once again.

“Get off my back, I’ve had a long day at work.” Jihoon exclaimed with exasperation.

“I just asked how you are, no need to throw this attitude at me.” Haneul replied bitterly.

“And you think that pointing this out is not throwing insolence back at me?”

“Why are you constantly trying to pick a fight?”

“I’m not trying to pick a fight; you are just being nosy!”

“Oh wow, I’m sorry for checking up on my boyfriend when I haven’t seen him for the past three days and barely heard from him because he was too busy to pick up his phone. So much for trying to make small talk.” Haneul was slowly losing patience. Sighing deeply, she got up from the couch and started towards the kitchen to make some tea only to stop mid-step upon Jihoon’s murmured words:

“I knew that I shouldn’t have come tonight.”

And that’s when she snapped; “Why did you then? If you are so bothered here, why come in the first place?” Haneul’s voice was calm but her eyes spit fire.

Jihoon met her gaze, and she noticed a flash of realization in his pupils. His demeanour warmed up as his once squared up shoulders, slanted ever so slightly. Jihoon reached out and grabbed her hand tentatively whilst Haneul showed no reluctance.

“What happened to us?” He asked quietly. It was more of a rhetorical question but they both seemed to have reached their peak.

Haneul could only shrug as she had been racking her brain with the same question for a while now. Somewhat of a heavy silence reigned for a few minutes as they stood there, hand in hand but far from being attached.

Haneul looked at him sincerely before finally asking: “Do you still love me?”

Jihoon’s widened eyes showed his shock at her sudden question but he understood why she probed this. After the one-year mark, they fell into the complacent routine of being in a relationship, so much so that he could not remember when the last time was that he told her that he loved her out of will and not actually out of practice.

“Honestly, I don’t know anymore. Do you?”

“How come you’re calling me; didn’t you tell me that Jihoon was going to spend the night?” Taeyong asked as soon as he picked up the phone. Greetings were never his forte, particularly when it came to Haneul.

A sad chuckle escaped her lips before she cleared her throat, trying to sound as rested as possible: “He just left actually.”

“Already?” Taeyong sighed at the end of the line: “Did you guys fight once again?”

“In fact, we just broke up.”

“Haneul I-”

“Don’t say that you’re sorry, it was a mutual decision.” Haneul’s eyes stung at her words as the ball threatening her throat was dangerously clutching at it. A solitary tear fell from her eyes before she finally sniffled out her first sob. “Why am I being such a sap; it was a mutual thing, we weren’t even able to say, ‘I love you’ like we meant it, so why am I even crying urg?” Haneul let out another cry out of self-frustration which prevented her from hearing Taeyong move on the other end of the line.

“I’m on my way, wait up for me.” He said quietly.

“No need, I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch.”

“Too late, I’m already half-way there.”

‘Perks of living down the street from your best friend’ she thought as her heart warmed up a little at the realisation that some things just never changed.

“I’m such a cry-baby.”

Taeyong chuckled as he tucked Haneul in, making sure that her sheets were neatly folded over her petite body. “Yes, you are.” He playfully deadpanned.

“YAH!”

“Don’t shout at me when I just agreed with your own statement.” Taeyong chuckled once again before going to drop a sweet peck to Haneul’s forehead. “You’re a cry-baby but don’t invalidate your feelings. You just broke a relationship that was nearing its two-year mark. Even if you grew out of love, it is okay and totally normal to be sad about it. Take the time you need to get over it.”

Haneul smiled sweetly at her best friend as her eyes welled up once again. “Thank you, Yong, for everything.”

“Anytime, anywhere munchkin.”

“Ew, you know that I hate it when you call me so.”

“One more reason to keep this nickname going then.” With a cheeky wink, Taeyong left; allowing Haneul to immerse into her feelings, with the assurance that he would always have her back.

Two weeks later, Haneul overcame the heavy sentiment of grief over her failed relationship. Work kept her busy whilst Taeyong made a point to have lunch with her every so often despite his own tight schedule. Everything was starting to look up for her; of course, there would be a random moment where Jihoon would pop up in her mind, but only because she had grown so accustomed to having someone to romantically rely on and nothing more.

But life decided otherwise; Haneul stared at the calendar before her with a pair frowned of eyebrows as she bit way too harshly on her bottom lip. Cursing at herself for not noticing anything sooner, she double checked the date and could only sigh deeply to calm herself since panic would certainly not be of any help.

Holding two sticks, one in each hand, since two is better than one, she closed her eyes tightly before finally taking a deep breath to confront her fate and sure enough, her gut feeling was right. The only issue for her now was the first step forward.

“Thank you for coming over.”

“I have to say that I was surprised you called, but you sounded somewhat upset so I thought something was up.” Jihoon said with an awkward smile to his face. Afterall, this was the first time they met post break-up.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“No, I’m good. So, tell me, how have you been?”

Haneul looked at him, seeing how uncomfortable he was and to be honest, it was not the most convenient set up for her either. Deciding against beating around the bush, Haneul finally said: “Jihoon, I’m pregnant.”

“What- How- I thought- Who’s the father?”

“What do you mean who’s the father, you are!” Haneul exclaimed with a hint of disappointment to her voice.

“But we used protection!” Jihoon retorted, appalled.

“You know that they are not 100% effective Hoon…”

“I can’t be a dad, I can barely take care of myself now you want me to take care of someone else’s life, a baby at that. You cannot just dump this on me. No way. You must be crazy. Did you even double check? Did you see a doctor? No wait, is that your way of saying that you want me back? I can’t-”

“Geez Jung Jihoon! I didn’t even ask anything of you. If this idea repulses you that much, you don’t have to do anything. I thought that as the father you ought to be the first to know. I was actually about to tell you that you can be as involved as you want to be, that there would be no pressure on you, but I guess that I already have your answer.” Haneul’s tone turned sour, and he looked guilty as charged.

Silence filled Haneul’s living room as neither of them dared utter another word just yet. Haneul had not expected much from Jihoon, she knew that he was a career driven person who would always prioritise his profession, but his reaction was far worse than what she had thought it would be.

“I’m sorry Haneul. I can’t.”

“I know.”

Silence followed.

Being a single mother was nowhere in Haneul’s initial scope at life, but she kept herself from panicking at all times. She was good with kids, there was no questioning that. But being good with your nephews and nieces or even your friends’ children is nothing compared to having one of your own.

“What are you thinking about?” Taeyong suddenly asked as he settled opposite her in their favourite restaurant, taking the time to press on the bridge of her eyebrows which had been furiously pinched.

A faint smile automatically found her lips though it did not last long before she simply shrugged to dismiss his concern. “So, what are we having today?”

They had been to this restaurant so often that they had already tried everything that was on their menu, from the simplest crispy calamari entrée to their special matcha crême brûlée with all the various main courses in between. Choosing their order was always Taeyong’s job since he was the one with a refined palate and random cravings.

“I’m thinking roasted mushroom as entrée, big prawns à la basilic sauce accompanied with sesame bread sticks for our main and chocolate mousse to finish off?”

“Good for me.”

Taeyong chuckled as he called the waiter to place their order. Afterwards, he continued with small talk; “How’s work?”

“Same-same, Jungwoo is learning very fast so I should soon be able to delegate my work more proactively onto his shoulders.”

“Who would have thought that Kim Jungwoo would give human resources a try aye haha.”

They both chuckled, “I know right, but he is doing a great job. Though, I would have thought that he would try out at your company.”

Taeyong nodded with a small smile to his lips, “Jungwoo is just so unpredictable.”

As the conversation developed and the dishes were close to cleaned up, Haneul stressed over how to break the news to Taeyong. She found it weird how she was much more nervous to tell him about the pregnancy when she knew for a fact that this was Lee Taeyong, her best friend, the one who would never turn his back to her.

“… and then Yoonoh’s zipper got caught up with his shirt and you can imagine how funny it all was, when he walked all confident out of the restroom only to be called out by one of the receptionists.” Taeyong beamed at Haneul only to be met with a fade expression. Raising his eyebrow, he cleared his throat in an attempt to catch her attention before finally resorting to flicking her forehead.

“Ouch! What was that for?!” She asked as her fingers automatically rubbed the sore spot.

“Well, someone was not paying attention to her dear best friend who made time in his tight schedule to have lunch with her.” Taeyong reasoned like a child.

“Sorry, lost in my thoughts. You were saying?”

“What’s on your mind? You were like this when I got here too.”

Forcing a smile to her lips, Haneul replied, “Work stuffs.”

Taeyong eyed her suspiciously whilst Haneul put on her most innocent expression. ‘You are such a coward Kim Haneul’ she thought.

“Hyung, what are you doing here?” Jungwoo asked as he noticed Taeyong in the lobby of their office building.

Taeyong lifted the lunchbox he had in his right hand with a smile. “Brought you guys lunch. Finally managed to sign off this deal with MS Station so I have the afternoon off.”

“Woooah, congratulations hyung.” The younger exclaimed excitedly until a slight frown knitted his eyebrows. “But Haneul Noona is not here today, she called in sick this morning.”

“No wonder she was not answering her phone.” Taeyong sighed. “Did she perhaps tell you what she has?” he asked as he actively handed Jungwoo his lunch box before, scrolling through his call log to dial his best friend’s number once again.

“No idea. It was quite short notice. She did skip the departmental dinner last night as well.”

“Noted, I’m going to check on her then. See ya.” Taeyong rushed through his words as he hurriedly made way out of the building.

Haneul was not answering his calls and for some inauspicious reason, he felt that something was really off. Not only had she been rather aloof via text for the past few days, but he had also been very busy. Guilt weighed down on his heart, had he missed a signal, was she now feeling the pain of her break-up or was something else going on. Thousands of questions haunted his mind until he finally reached her apartment.

Ringing the doorbell three times, he was met with no answer, but he knew for a fact that she was there; her car was perfectly parked in its spot but also, when he dialled her number again, he heard her phone ring through the door of her apartment.

“I’m coming in.” He said loudly before punching in the pin which was conveniently the date that they had first met at university; 0703 – the 7th March.

The apartment was barely lit, no curtains had been drawn and no lights were on. Sauntering with sweaty palms to her bedroom, relief struck him when he found her sound asleep in bed, sheets in disarray with a thin layer a sweat to her forehead.

Taeyong immediately reached his palm to take her temperature, comparing it to his own, but she was not feverish at all. If anything, she was rather cooled off. Tucking her in neatly, he decided to clean up her apartment while she rested. It was not necessarily a mess, but Taeyong rather clean it up just in case she was on yet another painful menses.

Thirty minutes later, he was doing the dishes when Haneul startled him by giving him a back hug.

“What are you doing here?” She asked quietly.

“You’re awake. I brought lunch, want me to heat it up for you?” he asked as he immediately cut the water and removed the rubber gloves. Swiftly, he turned around in her embrace to tug her closer to him. “I heard that you were sick.”

“Just felt under the weather this morning.” She mumbled; heart constricted at her white lie. How was she supposed to tell him that morning sickness effectively ruined her favourite white blouse, which happened to be a gift from him on her first day as an HR Trainee four years prior.

Taeyong’s hands found her cheeks as he lifted her face to examine it. “Are you menstruating?” he asked out of genuine concern.

Haneul said nothing and simply buried her face into his chest. Innocently, he assumed her silence to be a yes and only hugged her tighter as he rocked their body goofily from side to side in hopes of cheering her up. Teary-eyed, Haneul made the most out of this moment, embracing the silence. She knew for a fact that Taeyong loved kids. Not only did he love kids, but he loved her. Yet, she was scared. So scared. His opinion was all that mattered. For sure he would be supportive. But she was not ready to say goodbye to how things were in her life. She was just… not ready.

Haneul’s morning sickness did not last long. Her next ob-gyn appointment was due in a week. For the past two weeks, she had been walking on eggshells around Taeyong. Though, she had to be thankful that he was also rather busy with work so all she accumulated were tiny white lies. He was due to get promoted to Head of Foreign Operations if he successfully secured the project he was currently on. Haneul really wanted to wait for him to get the good news before adding worries to his mind, but she just could not hold it any longer, particularly when she was scared to attend her next appointment alone again. The nurse’s look of near pity was not helpful either.

Text to: Yong ♥

Dinner tonight? I’ll cook your favourite.

Mere seconds later, Taeyong replied with a sad smiley, and already she knew that he would not be able to make it that night. Trying to limit her overthinking nature, she simply brushed it off, putting it on the role of fate; showing her that maybe now was still not the time to break the news to him. Suddenly, her phone rang, and a smile tugged her face. Her immediate thought was that Taeyong was calling her in between meetings, so she picked it up without checking the log.

“Let me guess, you’ll run overtime again?

“Euh… it’s me.” Haneul immediately frowned and darted a quick look at her display; ‘Jung Jihoon’

“Oh sorry, I thought that you were-”

“Let me guess, Taeyong?” Jihoon lowly snickered. Haneul sighed and simply ignored his comment.

“To what do I owe this call?” she asked out of pure curiosity.

“How are you? I mean, are you okay with it all?” A slight hesitation could be heard from his tone. Haneul was surprised by his concern, rather pleasantly might I add.

“At around the 8th week, I started getting morning sickness, but now I’m all better. I’m not showing yet, but I have the next ob-gyn appointment soon.”

“Ah…”

Silence followed.

“Did you call only to check up on me Hoon?” she asked kindly.

“Haneul, are you sure that you want to go through with this?” He asked briskly, maybe too rushed, too cold and detached even.

“What are you trying to imply Jihoon?”

“It’s not too late to get an abortion, I can come with you, hell, you can ask Taeyong to take you even. But really, I won’t be able to take responsibility for it.”

Haneul felt like her world had stopped moving. Tears threatened the rim of her eyes as she took a deep breath. She knew that he was not ready, neither was she, but she really never pressured him into taking any action, all she wanted was someone to tell her that it would be okay. Her free hand securely placed to her lower belly, she said; “Then so be it. When the time comes and I will have it all cleared up with my lawyer, I’ll send you the papers for you to sign away your parental rights.”

“Haneul- Fine. Do as you wish.”

Deeming the conversation to be over, Haneul hung up before finally letting herself crash, crying all the tears she could because finally it came clear to her that now, she was in it on her own.

The next day was Sunday which allowed Haneul to sleep in. A day to herself after she finally really came to terms with how different her life would be as of now. The first half of the day spent in bed, lazing around whilst after lunch, she found herself lost on some baby-clothing online shop. She knew that it was way too early but now that it had sunk it that she was soon to be a mother, the uneasiness of being alone was slowly being replaced with an unexplained joy.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her doorbell. Frowning slightly, as she was not expecting anyone, she sauntered to her door, asking who it was loud enough but no answer came back. Opening her door slightly, a goofy grin found her lips upon the sight of Taeyong, dressed in his office clothes, coat in one hand and a bottle of sparkling wine in the other.

He wordlessly got in, let his coat fall to the ground before taking Haneul into huge hug.

“I got it!” he said in the crook of her neck.

“Got what?”

He hugged her a little tighter before finally letting go and dragging her to the kitchen. Then, he finally put the wine bottle on the kitchen isle, making himself comfortable as he grabbed the bottle opener from her top drawer.

“You have in front of you, the newly appointed, Head of Foreign Operations.” Taeyong exclaimed as the bottle’s cork popped open on cue.

Haneul jumped back to her best friend for another hug as she showered him with compliments and congratulations. She was truly elated for him. She had seen him aspire to this role ever since he had joined the company. The senior who trained him was his role model and Taeyong watched him talk about this position with so much passion that he too wanted to reach this spot one day. Now that he did, Haneul could not help but be proud.

However, when Taeyong went to grab two glasses from one of her shelves, her face paled.

“Yong, I don’t really feel like drinking tonight.” She said, trying to sound as convincing as she could.

“Now don’t abandon me on deck, just one glass?” Taeyong asked sweetly as he already served himself and the spare glass.

“Really Yong, I cannot tonight…”

“Just a sip then. For your best friend. Don’t you want to share the joy with me?”

“I am so so so happy for you Yong, but really, I don’t feel like having wine. I can toast with some water if you want.”

Taeyong’s disappointed expression was enough to guilt trip Haneul into an overthinking mess.

“Are you hiding something from me? Are you sick again?” He asked, genuinely puzzled. Haneul never refused wine, more so when it was her favourite.

“I’m sorry Yong, I can’t-” And before she even could finish her sentence, tears fell from her eyes, one at a time.

Panicked, Taeyong’s eyes widened before he immediately crossed the isle to take Haneul into his arms once again – engulfing her in his tight and comforting embrace in an attempt to comfort her from whatever was pressing at her heart.

“Don’t apologise, I’m sorry. It is okay if you do not want to drink. Don’t cry please.” He whispered, in between some sweet words.

Eventually, seated on the couch, Taeyong looked at her silently. He knew better than to question her again. ‘She will tell me when she is ready,’ he reasoned, despite the feeling of worry that tugged on his heart. He had no idea what was going on, but he knew that as a best friend, he had to stand by her.

"I'm pregnant." She abruptly blurted.

Silence reigned as Taeyong looked at her sincerely. He took a few seconds to assimilate her words. Haneul did not dare lift her face, anticipating his reaction. Her petite frame tightened his heartstrings. A small smile found his lips before he inched closer to her and took her in his arms once again.

“I hope that it’s a girl, so that she gets your beautiful eyes and beautiful smile.”

A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she moulded into his arms perfectly before nagging back at him. “A boy could get those features too Lee Taeyong.”

Finally whispering a soft congratulation to her ear, Taeyong refrained himself from asking further just yet. He knew that she would not get rid of it, he knew her. He knew that she would face this turn of events with pride and this thought warmed him up. Until…

“I’m going to kill this guy.” He said darkly, orbs dilated in pure anger.

Haneul shook her head as she hugged him tighter, “I don’t need my best friend in jail.”

Sighing, Taeyong left a meaningful kiss to the crown of her head, vowing to himself that he would never leave her side because deep down, he had always been rooted right there.

Breaking the news to Taeyong was not nearly as bad as Haneul had expected it to be; if anything, he remained the same old annoying yet endearingly caring best friend of hers. His attitude towards her did not change at all, but she would notice him reading a few articles about pregnancy more often than not when they would be chilling at her place or his and she found the action adorable. She felt relieved, she felt understood, she felt reassured; and above all, she felt validated.

After her first trimester, she finally left a notice at work concerning her pregnancy; she was starting to show a hint of bump at that point. Her colleagues were elated, but work was not alleviated, and she was thankful for that. Her imminent maternity leave implied that she would have to work twice as hard prior in order to fully train Jungwoo to take over in her absence. Thankfully, the younger male was used to her mood swings by the end of her second trimester and even knew her twitches and cravings nearly as well as Taeyong.

Taeyong, on the other hand, simply put was; always there.

“Alright Miss Kim, I need you to push harder for me.” The gynaecologist had said through his mask.

Taeyong was by her side, his hand tightly clasped into hers as he looked at her as if she was all he ever had on earth. Sweet nothings and constant smiles came from him as an encouragement for her to power through the pain. His admiration for women and gratefulness to his mother was unparalleled that day. Haneul was all red and sweaty yet he had never seen her so beautiful than when she finally got to meet her little one, a girl, a little daughter. Once the nurse tended to the new-born and finally allowed the young mother to hold onto her, Haneul teared up and so did Taeyong.

“Can you believe this Yong, this big-little one came out of me.” She whispered.

Taeyong chuckled: “She’s too cute to be yours.” Haneul shot him a look only to be caught out of breath as she had then finally met gaze with Taeyong who had not stopped watching over her for this whole time.

Suddenly, Taeyong bridged the gap between them and dropped a delicate kiss to her lips. She barely had the time to reciprocate his action before he broke away and kissed her forehead with a similar tenderness. She knew then that she was not alone anymore, she had a beautiful daughter who immediately became the love of her life and maybe also, a best friend who would truly, always stand by her.

End of Flashback

Taeyong was cheerfully playing along with Hani’s tiny antics whilst Haneul was preparing lunch for them. Hani was now three months old and a ball of pure joy whenever she would not be throwing a fit and cries. Thinking back, Haneul thinks that Taeyong simply barged into her life and decided to throw an anchor right there to stay put and ever since, he never budged.

He was around constantly to the extent where Haneul wondered if he even still had a job. Okay, that would be exaggerating but he was literally more over at her place than at his. She really started to worry about his social life. More importantly, she wanted to be anything but a burden to him. However, whenever she would intend on bringing up the subject, she would see him genuinely smile at her while he played with Hani which made her hope that maybe… maybe he really wanted to be in her life; maybe she could refrain herself from having this conversation with him yet again.

But the tension was slowly creeping, particularly when they never addressed the kiss they exchanged when Hani was born. It happened once, and for this particular reason, Haneul tried not to read too much into it, but it was really hard to do so when Taeyong was literally acting like her boyfriend with no strings attached. There was only that one kiss, but sometimes, she would catch him looking at her when she would be doing something else, or he would send her some smiles that ignited some visible sparks through his eyes. Lowkey, Haneul did suspect that she was going crazy as well.

“Lunch’s ready.” Haneul whispered when she noticed that Hani had actually fallen asleep in Taeyong’s arms. The latter nodded softly before heading to place the little one in her crib. A minute later, Taeyong emerged from the room and took place opposite Haneul at the kitchen isle.

“Don’t cook tomorrow, I’ll bring dinner after work.” He said as he took a spoonful of the kimchi stew.

“You’re coming tomorrow? But it’s Monday.”

“Yes, it is. And?” Taeyong asked with an eyebrow lifted.

“I mean, I don’t mind having you around, but don’t you want to rest on your own or maybe meet the boys. You slept over this weekend.”

Taeyong flashed her a genuine and hearty smile as he said: “Being here is my type of vacation munchkin.”

Haneul rolled her eyes at him before nodding solemnly, choosing to drop the subject since her heart would not handle another smile like that for the day. Before she could dwell into her own thoughts a message on her phone caught her attention.

Text From: Jung Jihoon Received the papers. I’ll run them by my lawyer as formality and send them back signed before the end of this week. xx

Taeyong noticed her frown.

“Is Jungwoo texting you about work again? The little rascal, I told him that you would be back in office next week, he could have-”

“Jihoon. He’s really going to give up his parental rights.” She said with a neutral tone, but Taeyong did not miss the disappointment that flashed through her eyes for a milli-second.

Taeyong reached across the isle to take her hand in his and squeezed it gently before saying; “Better for him to be decisive about it than have him be one foot in and one foot out.”

Haneul nodded simply as she continued eating in silence. To be honest, she could not care less about him anymore, but the only factor that tugged at her heart was that Hani would be growing up without her father. Taeyong on the other hand, could not help but contemplate her prior disappointment in his mind no matter how much he tried to do otherwise; ‘Is he still that important to you?’ he thought.

“Jungwoo? Coffee break?” Haneul suggested as she turned off her display. Jungwoo stretched out his arms tiredly before nodding.

“I thought you’d never stop.”

“My bad, I just wanted to catch up on all the documentation I missed sooner than later.”

The pair of friends sauntered to the cafeteria together, catching up on life a little.

“I’ll visit this weekend most probably.”

“Sure whenever, just don’t bring beer again. I cannot deal with a tipsy Taeyong again. He acted like a baby all night last time. You would think that he would wake up when Hani screamed bloody murder in her sleep, but no, after acting like a child all night, he fell asleep on the floor and only woke up at lunch time the next day.”

Jungwoo chuckled. “So… how are things between you two?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean…” Jungwoo insisted, trying to catch his friend’s eyes.

“Well, there’s nothing, he’s my best friend Woo.” Haneul said dismissively.

Immediately getting the cue to drop the subject, Jungwoo took a sip of his coffee before changing the topic to this new game that he had been playing with his cousin Donghyuk.

That night, Hani was staying at Haneul’s parents, as they had kindly offered to babysit overnight. Haneul took advantage of this moment to clean up her apartment and at the same time clean up her closet. She had lost some of the extra weight she had put on during pregnancy, but she now had new curves and her old outfits would not withstand the change. Looking at herself in the mirror, she finally noticed how much she had changed physically. The last time she had actually taken the time of the day to take care of herself was way too far back for her to recall and at that moment, Haneul could not help but find herself unattractive.

As a result of breast-feeding, she grew half a cup in sizing, her waist was not as snatched as it used to and even if she could not qualify herself as over-weight, all she could do was depict every inch of her body that had grown. Being a mother was such a gift to her, she would never deny it, but for some reason she had never felt so lonely and undesirable before.

“Grand-nettoyage huh.” Taeyong said softly as he appeared at her bedroom door, leaned against the frame, hands effortlessly tucked in his dress pants’ pockets.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, clearly surprised at her guest. “I told you that Hani was at my parents tonight.”

“Can’t I come visit my best friend nevertheless?” He asked back, secretly hurt by her innuendo.

Haneul immediately sensed her mistake and shook her head: “Of course Yong, always, but I just… I just did not expect you to come.”

He smiled at her before going to help her fold the laundry. She tried to shoo him away, but he wouldn’t budge. Self-conscious. Haneul was starting to feel self-conscious. Taeyong was now the only men in her life, and she could not help but admit that he was anything and everything that she could ever wish for in a partner. So much so that she did not deserve him. For how long would she be imposing herself and her baby in his life? Taeyong was a good guy, he would never complain, maybe he really did not find any problem in being over nearly every day, but she could not help but feel like a nuisance.

Moreover, her self esteem took a toll; not only had he seen her in more awkward and embarrassing instances that she had wished for, but he saw her breastfeed so many times now that he most probably knew how many moles she had to the chest, add to the list the number of times where Hani would have vomited on her, her stench of milk when she simply could not afford to take a shower just yet because Hani would not want to nap, the other times where she was simply too tired to even care about her appearance or if clothes were clean and dry because she had to rush out of the shower to tend to her crying baby; Taeyong had seen it all and this made her feel vulnerable.

“You look cute in my shirt.” He randomly said, breaking her out of her thoughts. It is only then that she had realised that she was indeed wearing one of the numerous clothes he had left behind since he was basically staying over two weekends per month at that point.

“My bad, I didn’t realise-” Haneul started as she tried to look for something else to change into only to be stopped when Taeyong grabbed her wrist softly.

“Don’t… I like it on you.” He said, searching for her eyes. In vain however, as Haneul simply nodded and sauntered out of the room once Taeyong’s grasp to her wrist loosened due to her lack of responsiveness.

“I did not plan dinner since I didn’t know that you would come. Do you want to order in?”

Taeyong offered a tight smile to her before shaking his head. Haneul noticed that he was definitely less cheery than a few seconds ago but she preferred to ignore her gut feeling.

“I just wanted to drop by on my way home. Now that I’ve seen you, I’ll be on my way.” Taeyong dropped a peck to her forehead, letting his lips linger a few seconds against her skin. “See you in two days munchkin.” And Taeyong left, leaving Haneul to her inner turmoil after he came and raised havoc over her overwhelmed heart.

“I’m done reheating the soup Munchkin.” Taeyong whispered as he came to the nursery with an apron tied round his waist and his signature smile to his lips.

“I’ll be there soon.” Haneul ushered back as she carefully craddled Hani, who had fallen asleep while being breastfed.

A few minutes later, Haneul emerged into the living area to see that Taeyong had already done all the set-up.

“Thanks Yong.” She said as she sat at her usual spot.

“Oh please, I only reheated what you cooked, no big deal.” He said as he started to dig in. Smiling, he continued, “Your seaweed soup just keeps getting better and better, I should maybe wife you up already.”

Haneul’s heart skipped a beat, but she did her best to keep her demeanour intact. It was the third time this week that Taeyong passed on such a comment and she could not help but feel uneasy every time, not because she didn’t like him, far from that, but because the more he said it; the less she felt that she would be able to let him go when the time came to it.

“Stop saying that Yong. You know, I worry about your social life.” She finally said, earning her a frown in return.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re practically always at my place. I know that you see Youngho and Yoonoh every now and then, but you should put yourself out there. Meet new people, maybe even… date.” Haneul’s heart constricted upon her own words but she felt like it needed to be said. Little did she know that Taeyong’s heart wrenched as well.

“Am I being an inconvenience to you?” He asked softly, truly confused by her sudden words before continuing without letting her answer, jumping to his own conclusions: “I know that I’ve been around a lot but it’s just because I love spending time with you and Hani is such a bundle of joy to me, I did not mean to invade your personal space that much…” Taeyong dropped his cutlery, clearly gutted by himself.

“No no- that’s not what I meant. I love having you around Yong.”

“Then why are you bringing this up out of the blue. Do you really want me to go out, possibly even date someone...?” he asked carefully, observing her reaction intently.

Haneul took a deep breath as her throat tightened. She struggled to find her voice for a few seconds before saying: “I just want you to live your life, I don’t want to become a burden that you feel responsible for. I am not alone anymore, I have baggage, hell I am a mother now. We are still in our twenties; you deserve to venture and experience so much more than being stuck changing the diapers of your best friend’s daughter.” By the end of her outburst, Haneul was teary eyed, but she did not dare cry for all she said came from the bottom of her heart.

Taeyong was awestruck, truly taken aback and dumbfounded. He had always made a point to pass on compliments to Haneul, to make sure that she was getting due rest, that she was okay with Hani, that Hani was always doing alright and never felt lonely whenever her mother would be resting – but he never actually sat back to take into consideration the inner conflict that she was having. Thinking back, he then realised all the cues that he should have picked up on. She always seemed saddened when he would try and make a step towards her. In his mind, she was maybe not ready or simply, she really did not see him in that way when really, all she ever had in mind was him and his future.

Biting his lip, Taeyong got up from his seat and sauntered across the isle towards Haneul. She refused to meet his gaze until his presence next to her was unbearable. Taeyong carefully cupped her face with one hand while the other tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His pupils darted towards hers, trying to convey his apologetic sentiment as well as his overwhelming adoration for her. If only she could see herself through his eyes, she would then get a glimpse of just how happy he was to simply be lucky enough to be in her presence.

Haneul felt like a mess, but with her breath caught up at the sight of Taeyong’s dilated pupils, she could only hope that she was not mistaken, for she knew this look; this look right there, it was the look that she had on him as well. Pure and genuine. Taeyong’s eyes, fell to her lips for a milli-second before he caught her gaze again. Haneul’s arms hesitantly made their way around his nape and he took that as a sign to finally bridge the gap between them, capturing her lips into a passionate kiss which expressed so much more than words could ever say. It was deep and hasty, as if their lives were up and this would be their last chance at it.

The need to breathe is the only factor that managed to break them apart. Haneul kept her eyes shut, afraid that all this might have been a dream. Taeyong smiled at her cute expression before letting his forehead lean against hers.

“This is what I want Kim Haneul. You and Hani, you guys are truly all I need.”

Taeyong need not repeat himself as this time, Haneul caught his lips yet again in a more daring kiss, letting all her suppressed feelings emerge into this exchange. Taeyong’s right hand guided her neck whilst hers got lost in his hair. It was heated and raw and they felt like time slowed to a momentary stop until a tiny groan followed by tinier cries were heard. They both broke away from each other chuckling. Hani of course. Haneul let him go but Taeyong prevented her from getting up.

“Stay, eat ahead, I’ll check up on her.” With a tender smile, Taeyong dropped a chaste peck to her lips before rushing to his second-favourite person in the whole world.

Haneul looked at his retreated figure before sighing in contempt. They still had so many more things to discuss and some air to clean but right then, she finally knew for sure that she would be okay; that they would be okay.

THE END.

#nct #nct 127 #nct u #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #scenarios #nct imagines #slice of life #young adult #slow burn #fluff #bestfriend au #pregnancy au #taeyong #leetaeyong #taeyong fanfic #nct taeyong

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agentnico · 3 years ago

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Red Notice (2021) Review

Notice (get it?) the Rock always ends up in the jungle no matter what film he’s in? That Dwayne does love his jungles. And whaddya know, in Red Notice he finds himself yet again in a jungle of all places. Well heck, one more time I guess, all together now: welcome to the jungle!!

Plot: When an Interpol-issued Red Notice (the highest level warrant to hunt and capture the world's most wanted) goes out, the FBI's top profiler John Hartley (Dwayne Johnson) is on the case. His global pursuit finds him smack dab in the middle of a daring heist where he's forced to partner with the world's greatest art thief Nolan Booth (Ryan Reynolds) in order to catch the world's most wanted art thief, "The Bishop" (Gal Gadot). The high-flying adventure that ensues takes the trio around the world, across the dance floor, trapped in a secluded prison, into the jungle and, worst of all for them, constantly into each other's company.

It’s truly baffling seeing how Netflix started out as a small Blockbuster-wannabe DVD rental company and now it’s able to afford the millions worth salaries of some of the world’s biggest stars. That is never more present as in Red Notice, which features arguably THE most biggest current Hollywood stars in Dwayne Johnson and Ryan Reynolds. Oh, and Gal Gadot is in this too, but let’s be honest, besides being Wonder Woman her star profile is quite limited. Dwayne Johnson is a box office magnetic draw, managing to rake in the audience dollar by simply existing, whilst Ryan Reynolds with his Deadpool charm and charisma has made it near impossible for you to dislike him, no matter how many insults he throws at ya. In a nutshell, these two have managed to make a successful acting career by constantly playing themselves. So in Red Notice, even though Reynolds plays a con-man and Dwayne is on FBI duties, they are just playing themselves again. The movie’s poster might as well say Dwayne Johnson AS Dwayne Johnson and Ryan Reynolds AS Ryan Reynolds. Oh and Gal Gadot, yes, keep forgetting she’s in this movie. In that regard, if you like these three actors you’ll enjoy this movie. Personally for me I do find Ryan Reynolds quite funny, so I did find myself chuckling away to his one liners and quips, but again, that’s due to me liking Ryan Reynolds as a person. There’s zero performance from him or his fellow actors here. But look, for an over-expensive Netflix movie, you get what you pay for (as in your monthly Netflix fee) and its nice seeing these actors do what they’re good at.

As for the movie itself though, Red Notice is a blend of Fast & Furious with Indiana Jones, and minus a minor twist at the end which I didn’t see coming (though to be fair when that twist occurs you could tell it was very tacked on and was a last minute creative decision), the movie offers hardly any surprises. It’s exactly what you expect from this type of film - you have the characters throwing witty remarks, fairly generic but entertaining enough action sequences and the chance to see many big scale locations filmed in crisp 1080p quality. The movie doesn’t take itself too seriously, which is good, as the amount of implausibility that you witness on screen....well, you just have to suspend your sense of disbelief. Look, for a movie that opens on a fictional historical montage with a narrator in serious tone talking about Cleopatra’s and Mark Antony’s love for one another, and how Mark gave her three golden eggs as a gift like the cheeky goose that he was and then the movie is about a bunch of people going after said golden eggs.....like, what do you expect from this type of movie? Its silly, action packed, and the main star trio seem to be having a blast. You like these actors, then watch it, if you don’t, then give it a miss. Easy-peasy, lemon squeezy!

Overall score: 5/10

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pinkjiminssi · 3 years ago

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So.. About That Hickey..

I think I’m still processing all of this and reminding myself I’m not dreaming 🤣 I seriously only got 3 hours of sleep last night and when I woke up the first thing I did was check twitter to be sure this “drunk bridal-style spinning hickey neck biting proudly showing off” moment actually happened!!

.. I hate the way my brain works though. I was so happy that it took me forever to fall asleep, spent all day on cloud 9 despite being tired, .. and then my old nemesis, anxiety, stepped in. Well kind of. TBH if all of the MOTS ON:E Jikook moments we got happened with Jimin/anyone else or Jungkook/anyone else.. I would seriously be sitting here saying “well fuck.. I believe they WERE a couple, but looking at all of this it seems they are no longer together.” So really, this just confirmed what I already knew about Jimin and Jungkook: they’re a couple. My anxiety is over.. why? Why show us this? If they can cover all of JK’s tattoos, a hickey/bite mark/whatever we’re calling it should be super easy to hide. Sure it was just rehearsal.. but it was rehearsal with cameras rolling with every intention of releasing what was being filmed as future content. It could have (and some might argue should have) been covered.

Guys... I’m confused. And concerned. ❗❗❗ TW for drama, hate, homophobia, the usual anti issues

That “official” explanation.. again.. why? I’m assuming Jimin and Jungkook were asked and allowed to explain because of the chance of it being spotted and armys freaking out, so BH (or possibly even Jikook) thought to get ahead of the speculation by just being up front about it all.. but THAT explanation? I suppose it works for covering up the army panic of “Jungkook has a girlfriend?! *insert fangirl sobbing*” .. but that’s literally all it does (and only barely if you go looking at some of the anti’s reactions to it all). Really, all it did was draw even more attention and speculation. I mean.. this is, essentially, what we were told: Jimin and Jungkook were together the night before drinking, apparently without the other members as they didn’t seem to know all of this already (and they would have if they had been there), somehow hanging out and having drinks turns into Jungkook picking Jimin up bridal style (random but some of the k-army reactions on twitter were translating through google into “princess style” and I just think that’s so cute 🥰), spinning ensues, Jimin gets dizzy and wants Jungkook to put him down, ... and so he proceeds to do the only logical thing that any of us would have done in that situation... biting Jungkook’s neck? And hard enough to leave a mark the next day?? And instead of being peeved about it (like most of us would have been if our friend bit the crap out of us), Jungkook looks happy?? proud even???

And they arrived together the next day and continue to be cute and playful?

I just.. I mean.. come on. First of all.. that’s a hickey. A bite leaves teeth marks. And one would assume a wild, drunken “let me down” chomp would be something that happens suddenly and ends very quickly. I know I for sure would drop someone on their ass if they decided to take a bite out of my neck (assuming I was even picking up and spinning around with one of my friends like that to begin with.. but let’s not even get into why that was going on at this point) .. but the way this bruised? Yeah. There were no teeth involved (at least not hard enough to leave indentations) and this took more than a couple of seconds of mouth-to-neck contact to still be that visible the next day. So.. in short. Jungkook arrives with a hickey, JK decides to not cover it up (or he would have shown up with it hidden and we see him get out of the car that morning with it clearly visible), BH staff sees it and also decides to not have it covered up and actually have it explained... and the explanation is “oh yeah Jimin just bit him, you know.. no big deal hehehe isn’t that funny?” 🤯 WHAT?! Yeah.. that’s totally normal, platonic behavior between adults...

I’m not saying Jimin and Jungkook are lying btw. I have no doubt it played out more or less exactly as they said with the exception of what they’re calling the end result. Jimin and Jungkook are fine.. I mean, what were they supposed to say? They’re not going to show up saying Jimin was sucking on Jungkook’s neck the night before. We’ll probably never know why Jungkook decided to not cover it up before arriving, but it’s his body and he gets to decide. It’s BH that has me so puzzled. Other than antis and people who refuse to see what’s literally right in front of their faces when it comes to Jikook.. who were BH expecting to believe the bite thing? Just among staff and the other members, it’s a laughable but safe “oh of course *wink wink*” explanation that allows everyone to carry on like normal. But to the public who don’t know them personally, don’t know their usual behavior and patterns, and who don’t have something like a non-disclosure agreement or professional courtesy preventing them from openly speculating.. it doesn’t fly. Pretty much everyone teen and up knows what a hickey looks like (either from having gotten/given one or at least seeing one on someone else in person or online). It’s immediately obvious what it is. And even if there was some uncertainty.. that it’s on his neck (instead of other easily accessible and less sensitive/stimulating locations) and just so happens to be right near his mole as it Jimin were aiming for it? Just another “too many coincidences” thing when it comes to Jikook.

Even antis on twitter couldn’t deny what it was and, so, had to resort to the “well I do that with my sibling and my uncle’s pet raccoon all the time it’s just family things” excuse and/or the “yeah well someone ELSE in the group (or a girlfriend) gave him that and they’re just covering by saying it was Jimin.” Oh. And the same old “it’s just fan service” excuse (as if Jungkook would let someone bruise his neck for the purposes of fanservice which, again, BTS has never done or needed to do. Forever pissed off that so many in this fandom act like Jungkook is a puppet doing whatever the “evil company” tells him to do regardless of his personal feelings or boundaries. The man has tattoos covering nearly every inch of his arm despite that being looked down on in Korea. At this point he can do whatever the fuck he wants). So.. why?? Seriously, why? This all could have easily been avoided with simple makeup.

When they’re doing official content they’re all literally followed around by a flurry of staff fixing hair, dabbing sweat, touching up makeup, etc. Even though it was rehearsal, staff were everywhere in the footage that’s made its way online. If they were worried that it would be seen in the background and “taken the wrong way,” just have the staff occasionally touch up the makeup. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy.” But instead of doing the obvious, BH decides to: not cover it, draw attention to it by asking about it and letting them continue to talk about it, go out of their way to get a camera on it, and then include it in the final cut of the content they sent out?

BTS is literally the most popular group in the world right now and BH has become a behemoth of a company that runs like a well-oiled machine. They’re not stupid; this was not a mistake. For some reason they wanted us to see this and, one would assume based on the lack of a more believable explanation, they wanted us to come to the conclusion that we all have: Jimin gave Jungkook a hickey. You know they have teams dedicated to monitoring reactions to content on social media. You know they know the dialog surrounding Rosebowl, Black Swan MMA, the Memories 2020 “almost kiss,” etc. etc. All of this got “jikook,” “hickey” and variations of their names trending for HOURS (in multiple countries and worldwide).

Out of curiosity, I decided to check the trends at the time of writing this. As of 3 AM CST (about 24 hours AFTER the clips started showing up online), there was still a hashtag trending related to all of this: #FREEJUNGKOOK.. and the tweets being directed toward BH are.. disturbing to say the least:

While I agree that the boys should trend more often based on their talents and music.. what’s going on right now is a homophobic 💩 show accusing BH of “scripting” interactions (rather than.. you know.. Jungkook interacting with whoever he wants however he wants.. the usual “mindless puppet JK” narrative), trying to coordinate the mass sending of angry emails, trying to get people to stop buying paid content, accusing BH of taking advantage of the members.. I mean it goes on and on. And BH know what’s going on right now. They’re seeing the reactions... the good and the extremely negative. And still they let this out. And this is all not even CONSIDERING the mountain of other moments that made the cut on MOTS ON:E.

(side note, the above pic just oozes happiness and it’s so cute I love it!! 😭)

So.. even though I’ve said it dozens of times already... WHY? W H Y? I’m an anxious person by nature and not very trusting. I believe Jimin and Jungkook and I don’t think they’ve been lying and pretending for “fanservice” all of these years. I respect them both too much as individuals and artists to believe that they would stoop to such tactics just to generate a little more “interest” and revenue. I’m suspicious of BH. BTS doesn’t need fanservice to get attention; literally all of 2020 and 2021 so far has proven that beyond a doubt. Even if they suddenly made the decision to do fs.. why not go with the most popular ship (taekook) or at least one that isn’t so hotly debated on social media (remove Jimin, Jungkook and Tae from the equation and you still have four members to “play” with who have much less potential to have fs devolve into a toxic crap show all over the internet). Showing us this will do nothing to help BTS as a group or Jimin and Jungkook at this point. In fact.. all it can do is hurt. Hurt BH, hurt the group, and hurt the individual members, heck.. even potentially hurt other BH/HYBE groups. I’ve already seen people on twitter saying they’re “done” spending money on anything BH or BTS puts out because they’re “sick of jikook in their faces and just two of the seven hogging all of the screen time.” Whether or not that “spending freeze” actually materializes into anything noticeable remains to be seen of course.. but the threat is there and always has been. What is the motive? And why now? As much as my “hopeless romantic” heart would like to believe they’re preparing us for Jikook to be “out” .. I seriously don’t think that is ever going to happen. Certainly not now at the height of the group’s fame, with them being given Presidential honors and ambassador status, and with military service still looming over them all. And let’s not forget... Korea is NOT a safe place for a queer couple. Letting us see and know what they did through what was released has the potential to put Jimin and Jungkook (and the other members by proxy) in danger. Sure.. BTS has never been hardline rule followers and have been breaking molds and shattering norms from the start, so “officially” having an openly gay couple in the group wouldn’t be impossible.. just... highly highly improbable. Especially right now... and I’m concerned. I don’t want to sound like the creeps I posted a screenshot of above throwing blame at the company. The boys chose to renew their contracts with the for a reason so we have to trust their judgement as a group... but still, I’m worried and I’m questioning what the purpose was here.

#jikook #drama #kat thoughts #sorry for being a downer...#I'm stressed :(

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honnomushitravels · 3 years ago

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First (half? A quarter?) day in Barcelona

This might be the most stressful trip of my life so far. Second only to when I almost missed my flight in Paris because the trains to the airport were late and they changed platform like ten times in two minutes.

Anyways.

Here I am, finally safe on the train to the airport after running home from work, driving in the rain (which I hate because people are idiots and can’t drive to save a life) and running from home to the train station because I only had like ten minutes and what for? To learn that my train was 15 minutes late. How nice.

Finally reaching my second stop, the train decides to take its sweet sweet time to stop because who cares right? So, I was supposed to have 30 minutes to get off one train, buy the ticket for the other one and maybe even a snack, then get on the train to the airport. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. It turned out to be difficult difficult lemon difficult.

And here I am, running from platform like 100 to platform 1 (and when are you wrong, as we say here - here being my home country and we being me), with 5 minutes to buy the ticket and get on the train.

I almost made it, when this guy thought I was exactly the right person to ask if he was on the right platform and that was the right train. C’MON MAN! Can’t you see I’m dying here? Go read some board somewhere!

Had to excuse myself to the guy with a confused “my train’s leaving sorry thank you” (yeah I wasn’t really focused) and sprint to the train.

And here you’d say “well, all is well what ends well” AH NO. Because I didn’t have the time to validate the ticket and I’m paranoid, but I don’t have a pen with me and so I had to ask the nice lady in front of me who said “I think it’s not necessary anymore to validate tickets” I trust you, lady, but I have ✨anxiety✨ so please give me that pen thank you so much.

Now I only have to get to the airport and through security, my favourite part, yay.

#hon no mushi travels #hon no mushi in barcelona #hon no mushi is stressed out

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years ago

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Protection Chapter 4

Summary: Mia is deeply hurt by August, only she is the one with a slight problem now: her heater is broken.

August Walker x Mia Makaruku (ofc)

Wordcount: 3.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: I hope everyone had a lovely few days! please let me know what you think about this chapter. I love to read about it 🤗

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

That Saturday I had my second to last game and I scored not one, not two, but three goals. Some even said I might’ve set a record for the fastest going goals in the history of female soccer. That might have something to do with me being still so damn mad at August.

I mean, I know I said I was going to accept his hot and cold attitude, since there would be a kind man underneath that harsh exterior, but after being hurt like that, I just figured that I couldn’t accept it anymore. He was harsh and borderline mean to me.

I don’t understand him anymore, but what I do know is that him being like that to me, is probably not going to change. Maybe I’m being a baby and totally overreacting, but I decided that it is best for my own wellbeing if I not talk to him anymore and so far, it’s working. Despite August always being home, I only bumped into him once and that for being next door neighbors.

Yesterday we both stepped into the elevator, but since I know him a bit, I was just sure he wouldn’t start a conversation with me.

I was right. However, I had to go against all my own impulses and you can almost say reflexes to not start a conversation with him.

August told me he doesn’t do apologies, so I shouldn’t be expecting one from him.

When I wake up that Sunday, a day after my game, I’m hit with a painful cold. Normally, Bobo sleeps on top of my blankets, but now he is securely curled up underneath them. Why is it this cold in here? I slip on some thick socks (that feels like two large ice cubs) and rush to my thermostat.

Only to discover it’s not working?!

‘Shit, shit, no,’ I whine. I really can’t use that right now. I mean, I can’t ever use it, but right now I really don’t want it. I check the card that hangs next to the thermostat and it informs me I can call the mechanic at nine on a Sunday.

It’s seven now, which is absolutely fantastic.

While my body is slowly freezing up and my nipples are the evidence of the cold temperatures (I’m really happy I’m all by myself now), I go to the bathroom to check if my shower can provide me with some warmish water. I grab the shower head and I wait until the water turns even slightly warm.

It doesn’t.

Great, so even a shower can’t keep me warm. I desperately need a shower, my sore muscles need some relaxation. I turn off the water and I walk to my bedroom. After I put on a bra and some more layers, I jump around, desperately trying to keep myself warm, but it’s useless. It’s what? Minus a billion degrees in here? I’m never gonna warm up, even if I wanted to.

I look over at the wall, the one that separates my apartment from August’s. I could do it, you know. I could just go over there and demand I can stay over at his place. I mean, that’s what he does and considers normal.

I can do that too. I can demand some shelter for a few moments. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

Right?

Nah, it’s not. I’m too damn proud to do such thing.

The two hours go by really slow, but at least I got myself a good work out in, because I was desperately trying to keep warm. and I curled up underneath my blankets, but it was of no use. When I finally can call the mechanic, the shithead on the other line told me he couldn’t come in until three in the afternoon. Six whole hours in this freezing cold? That is something I simply cannot do. I want a hot shower and just chill in my sweats all day. I deserve that after last night’s game.

I grab some clothes, my shampoo and skincare products and pick up Bobo, who feels like a hot water bottle, but is not enough to keep me warm. I close the door of my apartment and with my elbow I knock on August’s door. It takes awhile before he opens the door, but when he does so, he frowns and looks visibly confused.

Probably because I’m holding Bobo and have a big bag with me.

‘What do you want?’

Always the gentleman. I should’ve thought this through, but I think the frostbite has reached my brain before I could do so. ‘I have a problem,’ I say. ‘My heater is broken and the mechanic comes at three.’

He leans against the doorframe. August looks different and I think it’s because of the grey sweatpants. I never really pecked him for a guy who wore something like that, matched with a thick hoodie. ‘Okay?’

Demand shelter, Mia, you can do it. ‘You should give me shelter,’ I say. Okay, that was’t exactly what I was aiming for, but it’s a start. ‘I cannot handle six hours in the freezing cold and I also don’t have hot water, so I can’t shower. Before you ask: ‘Why would I do this?’, remember, I did the same for you and I paid for the court side tickets.’

‘Tickets you bought before you even knew you were going to take me with you,’ he retorts. He sighs deeply. ‘Does the animal has to come as well?’

‘The animal is very sweet,’ I tell him and almost on cue Bobo starts to hiss. ‘Okay, maybe not to you, but please… Just let me stay here for six hours. If you do so, I might forgive you for being a total ass to me last Wednesday.’

‘I wasn’t an ass to you,’ he says, but when I cock my eyebrow, he looks kinda caught. ‘Okay, I maybe was an ass to you sometimes.’

‘All the time,’ I interrupt in.

‘Not the entire time. Just the ending,’ he tells me. ‘Okay, okay, please, come in, Mia and the creepy cat. Make yourself at home.’

At first I’m afraid he is being sarcastic (I mean, we’re talking about August Walker and it didn’t sound like it came from the heart), but when he actually steps aside, I realize he is serious. ‘Thank you,’ I say with a smile and I walk into his pretty boring apartment. I’ll let it slide for now, because he just moved in. I place Bobo on the ground and he struts through the apartment, avoiding August. Being here feels like I’m being wrapped up in a warm blanket.

August walks passed me to the kitchen and I decide to walk after him. ‘Are we going to talk about Wednesday?’ I ask him.

‘No.’

Figured. ‘Come on, August. Just… We should talk about this, to clear the air.’

‘I don’t want to talk.’ He places his hands on the counter and I don’t know where I’ve got the guts from, but I dare to step closer to him.

‘I bet there was a reason why you were like that this Wednesday,’ I continue. ‘You can talk to me, you know?’

‘I don’t want to talk about my feelings, especially not with you,’ he barks out.

Weirdly enough, this doesn’t hurt me, because I think he doesn’t mean it. ‘August,’ I whisper, ‘please. I just want to know why you continue to hurt me, when I’m nothing but nice to you, minus maybe the pedophile comment.

He clenches his jaw. ‘You want coffee?’

Why is he ignoring me? ‘Sure,’ I say, because I can actually use a cup. ‘Can’t you just try to be nice to me, without it being sandwiched in between insults? I’m not forcing you to go skipping with me in a park and make flower crowns with me, while feeding the ducks. I’m just asking you to cut the insulting crap and be nice to me.’

August actually turns his back to me and I let out a sigh. What was I even thinking?

‘I can try.’

Did I just hear that correctly? ‘What?’ I ask. ‘You can try?’

‘I can.’ He pours in some coffee for me and hands me a mug.

‘Thank you,’ I say with a gentle smile. I carefully place my hand on his underarm and he looks up, nearly snapping his neck in the process. ‘I really want to get to know you,’ I say to him in a soft tone. ‘But only if you allow it, okay?’

He nods. ‘Yes, okay,’ he says.

‘You want to get to know me?’ I ask with a chuckle.

‘Weirdly enough: yes.’

I roll my eyes. ‘August.’

‘Wait, wait, wait, I can do better,’ he says. ‘Yes, I want to get to know you too.’ He cocks an eyebrow. ‘Better?’

I laugh. ‘Yes, much better.’

◎ ◎ ◎

Since August’s shower provides me with hot water, I might overdo it by standing underneath the warm water for at least half an hour. Yes, I’m that type of guest. I quickly dry my hair, put on some moisturizer and get dressed, before I walk to the living room.

‘Did you clean up in here?’ I ask August, noticing the place is a whole lot cleaner than it was before I took my shower. ‘Are you trying to impress me, August?’

He scoffs, placing his feet on the coffee table. He looks like a mocking kindergartner, it’s almost endearing.

‘Where is Bobo?’ I ask him, when I sat down next to him and look around.

‘In my bed,’ August answers with a shrug.

That caught me a bit off guard. My cat is in his bed? ‘And you don’t mind?’ I ask. ‘Or are you too afraid to shoo him away?’

He doesn’t want to—I can see it in his eyes—but he smiles. ‘Maybe a bit of both. Besides, he was hissing at me, so I was too afraid to get him off the bed.’

I chuckle. I shiver a bit, as I’m slowly losing the warmth from the shower. August stands up from the couch and wanders through the place. Only to come back with a blanket. He drapes it over me and I’m genuinely surprised. ‘What is this?’ I ask him, though I know exactly what this is.

‘You were cold,’ he says, ‘so I got you a blanket.’

I feel my cheeks heating up. ‘You can be very nice, did you know that?’

August looks at me for a few milliseconds, before he averts his gaze. I realize this may have been too much of a compliment. ‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘You want to watch some tv?’

‘Sure.’ He grabs the remote and turns on his television.

Was August watching the sports channel?

The only channel that broadcasts the women’s national football league?

‘Did you watch the game last night?’ I ask him.

‘I might’ve,’ he admits, his cheeks a little red. Oh my, my brooding neighbor August Walker is blushing!

‘Next week I have my last game, before the winter break. You want to watch? It’s free and I can arrange a nice spot for you. Special VIP treatment.’

‘Really?’ he asks. ‘Even after I was an absolute asshole to you?’

It’s nice of him to acknowledge that. ‘Even after that.’

‘I would like that.’

Are we having a moment now or is this me hallucinating? August looks into my eyes and doesn’t turn away. His light orbs are obviously hiding so much and it breaks my heart to think he has been through so much. ‘What are you thinking about?’

August shakes his head. ‘Nothing.’

‘Liar.’

He smiles. It makes him look beautiful, approachable and absolutely breathtaking. ‘I was thinking about giving you a compliment about the game last night and whether or not I should add an insult to it.’

I laugh. ‘Well, you can ditch the insult. I’m not sure if I can take it right now.’

‘You are by far the best player on your team,’ he says. ‘Maybe this is an insult to your teammates, but I think you would be the only female player that could actually beat the best male players.’

I bite my bottom lip, as I feel my stomach twists and turns. ‘That’s really sweet,’ I admit. ‘I bet you don’t want me to give you a hug as a thank you, right?’

August leans back in the couch. ‘Why would you want to hug me?’

That’s not a no, which is an improvement. ‘I barely got hugs when I grew up,’ I say. ‘I don’t know if you are aware of my sob worthy backstory. It’s pretty much all over the internet.’

‘I might’ve looked up some bits, he admits in all honesty, which I appreciate. ‘Lots of foster families.’

I nod. ‘I mean, it was mostly me. The families were nice enough, but I was simply afraid, because I knew that there was a chance I would leave again. What if I attached, you know? Saying goodbye would be harder.’

He nods, almost as if he understands.

‘However, my soccer team was pretty much the same team for years. I grew attached to them and hugs were totally normal. It was a way of communicating, really. Since that moment, I appreciate them. It’s a way to let someone know I appreciate them. If that makes sense.’

August nods again. ‘Back when I grew up, I never got hugs.’

For some reason, I see a young and pouty August in front of my eyes. Desperate for some human contact, only to be deprived by it.

‘I just never was in a setting where hugs were acceptable. Not when I was younger, not now.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t apologize for stuff you had nothing to do with,’ he says and he sounds like the same old August I have come to know. He lets out a deep sigh, one that nearly sounds like a growl. ‘You can give me a hug.’

‘That doesn’t sound very sincere.’

‘I am very sincere,’ he says. ‘I mean it.’

This is adorable, I think to myself. ‘Well, you have to know that once I hug you, you are in it for the real deal. I may or may not hug you every chance I see you.’

August laughs. ‘Then I just have to live with that.’

I push the blankets off of me, before I nearly jump him. I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and while he is slightly awkward, he places his hands on my back and actually engages in the hug. ‘You are very huggable,’ I say.

‘You too.’

I pull my face back, so I can look at him. ‘Remember,’ I say, ‘you can put your walls down around me. I would even really like that, to get to know you.’

August moistens his lips, before he whispers: ‘I would like that as well.’

◎ ◎ ◎

After the mechanic fixed my heater and left, August and I ordered pizza. Now, we sit on my couch and watch some YouTube compilation of me playing soccer. That wasn’t even my idea.

It was August’s idea.

Ever since our hug, I notice he is trying his best to be nice and to me, that’s what matters the most. While I don’t understand his struggle, I do appreciate the effort.

I just shouldn’t be attracted to someone who hurt me twice within a week of knowing me, but I can’t help but feel a little something deep inside of me, when I look at August sitting this relaxed on my couch.

‘You want my crusts?’ I ask him, holding out my plate to him.

‘Of course.’

I can’t help but scoot a little closer to him, so I can hand him the plate a bit better. Maybe it’s because I’m touch starved, maybe it’s because I never had this much male attention (insults or not) before. It’s just really nice being around a man, especially August. I didn’t want to admit it, but I enjoyed every moment of him being overprotective of me in the stadium and how he wiped my hands clean in the restaurant.

That never happened to me before.

‘You want my last piece?’ August asks me, holding up his slice.

‘Are you sure?’ I ask, already taking it out of his hands.

‘Postive.’

Before I take a bite, I say: ‘You can have this crust again, though.’

He smiles. ‘I was hoping for it.’

We eat in silence, staring at the television, but I’m not even paying attention. My mind is full of thoughts about August and the questions I want to ask later on when we get to know one another better. ‘Here is my crust,’ I say.

‘You know, Mia, you eat shockingly fast.’

I scoff. ‘I do not.’

‘You totally do,’ he argues. ‘And you are also the world’s messiest eater. I don’t know how you do it, but you got sauce on your forehead.’ He leans over to my coffee table and grabs some napkins. ‘Sit still, will you.’

‘I am sitting still!’

‘You’re not. You are fidgety.’

I roll my eyes. ‘First I’m a fast eater, then a messy one and I don’t sit still. I was about to offer you some dessert, but now I’m not so sure, since you are being so damn mean to me right now.’

‘I’m not mean to you,’ he says, his voice all of the sudden a lot lower. He places his hand in the back of my neck, before gently cleaning the corners of my mouth and my forehead, letting out a tsk in a process. August is so close right now, I’m nearly going cross eyed. His rough thumb slowly caresses the delicate skin in my neck. I can feel his warm breath against my lips.

‘You want dessert?’ I ask him after I cleared my throat. ‘I have some chocolate pudding. We could eat that.’

August nods. ‘Yeah, I would like that,’ he says, letting me go. ‘Let me help you.’ He stands up as well, holding the plates in his hands. Together we walk to my kitchen and I start preparing the pudding for the both of us.

However, I still feel his hand in my neck. Back when I was in high school in the Netherlands, I was never really in favor of the boys. Besides, I moved a lot and I was pretty much invisible. There was this one time, where it took the teacher almost three weeks to notice me.

Being touched like that, it is a rarity in my dating history. Sure, I’ve had a few kisses, but other than that, I never engaged in anything. Now I’m twenty five and I want it.

So badly.

I look up, only to discover August was already looking at me. ‘What?’ I ask him.

He shakes his head. ‘Nothing.’

We eat the pudding in silence and when it is eight ‘o clock, he decides to leave. We may barely spoken to one another and when we did, it was pretty shallow, really. But I do feel like I got to know August better and he is willing to open himself up to me.

I walk him to the door and I say: ‘Are you willing to hug me goodbye?’

‘I’ll probably see you tomorrow, Mia,’ he says. ‘It’s not like I’m leaving anytime soon.’ Then he seems to realize what he is missing out on. While he rolls his eyes, I spot a grin on his face and he spreads his arms. ‘Come here.’

I let out an excited squeal and I jump up, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He laughs and wraps one arm around my waist, holding me against him.

‘You happy now?’ he asks.

I pull back my face. ‘Delighted, August Walker.’

He places me back on the ground. ‘See you tomorrow?’

‘You bet. Now you’ve hugged me. let me in your place and allowed Bobo in your bed, I think I’m gonna be over all the time.’

◎ ◎ ◎

The entire Monday morning I spend baking. I want to thank August for yesterday and I figured to see if the saying “nothing says loving like something from the oven” is true. I think it might be. I know I always appreciated when mister Toriello made me a pie.

I walk out of my apartment to knock on his door, only to discover his door is slightly ajar. I push it open and peek inside. ‘August?’ I ask with the steaming pie still in my hands. I walk inside, but he isn’t here. Maybe he is out and didn’t close the door right, however that seems so out of character. Leaving his door open like that… That’s weird.

I place the pie on his kitchen island and find a piece of paper to write something on it.

I place the note next to plate and I want to leave the apartment, but my eyes fall on something. It’s one of those yellowish files, you see in programs like NCIS. I know you shouldn’t peek in other peoples stuff and usually I don’t do such thing.

However I can’t help it right now, as the file is like a magnet that pulls me in.

I pull out the file and it confirms my suspicions. That was my name indeed I saw from afar and this file has my DMV photo attached to it with a paperclip.

Why does August have this? I mean, I don’t even know what he does for a living, but why would he have this? What kind of job would require all this information about me?

Oh my, is he a stalker? I know that’s not a profession, but still…

I open the file and see an entire timeline of my life. The car accident, transcripts of my interviews with specialists, my football career. He is even up to date on my Instagram account… I even see he figured out the name of the man who was gawking at me during the game.

What is this?

‘What are you doing here?’ I hear August’s voice behind me. I look over my shoulder and see him standing in the doorway. He looks tired and a bit sweaty. What has he been doing? ‘What do you have there?’

I turn around, as I hold up the yellow folder. ‘Is there a specific reason you have my entire life compiled in one file?’

#august walker #august walker x ofc #august walker x asian ofc #august walker x oc #august walker x mia makaruku #henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x mia makaruku #august walker x soccer player #mia makaruku #asian ofc #fic: protection

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