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17snifflesandsnzes · 11 months ago

Note

Hello! I love your writing and I'd like to request a Vernon allergy fic, with hiphop unit as caretaker.

Thanks for the compliment! Here it is, I hope you enjoy!

I'd Say It Had Been A Pretty Eventful Day

Vernon pov:

I really should have known better than to even think about writing a song while it's peak allergy season. Guess I just didn't think it through. We had about a month left before our official comeback with the album FML and even though all the group songs had been recorded, all the units still had to record their songs. As far as I knew, the vocal unit had finished their recording and the performance unit would start recording later this week. But of course, we hadn't even written our song.

Jihoon hyung had left the writing and recording to us because we usually went with the flow and how we feel at a given moment but now, with the deadline so close, there was a sense of urgency that I could feel whenever Seungcheol hyung scheduled a hip hop unit songwriting session. So of course, when I checked the pollen count of the day we were going to finish our song, I couldn't help but groan. With my luck, it just makes sense that the day the pollen count is at an all-time high is the day I gotta write a song and record it. And unsurprisingly, I felt the effects of the pollen almost immediately after I woke up. I rubbed my hands over my face, groaning, as I sat up.

I went through my morning routine basically on autopilot and when I walked into the kitchen, I saw Mingyu hyung in the kitchen making breakfast. “Morning, Hansol!” Mingyu called out and I smiled. “Morning, hyung.” I took a seat at the table and rested my head in my hands. Wonwoo hyung joined me at the table. “I checked the pollen count for today. Are you gonna be okay?” I sighed before lifting my head to look at him. “We're only gonna be writing and recording. I'll be fine, hyung. Plus, we don't have a lot of time left and both Jihoon hyung and Coups hyung are getting pretty stressed right about now.” Wonwoo hyung looked like he wanted to say more but for my sake, he kept his mouth shut.

Seungcheol hyung joined us at the table for breakfast soon after. “Guys, let's try to finish up with writing the song and at least get some recording done today, okay?” All 3 of us nodded but I had the underlying feeling of dread. Knowing my allergies, it was wishful thinking to hope that I would get any work done. But maybe I'll push through this time? Right?

Wrong.

As soon as we stepped outside of the dorm, the sunlight hitting me in the face, I immediately felt a buzzing itch in my nose. I rubbed my wrist against my nose, trying to lighten the tickling sensation but that only seemed to elevate it. Accepting defeat, I turned my face directly towards the sun, my breath hitching, bringing up my arm to my face. “hh'ItShuhHh!- hh'hKtChuHh!-'' Mingyu looked back at me. “Bless you.” I thanked him, my ears burning from the attention.

After we entered our company van, I pulled out my phone, scrolling through it as we made our way to the company. Even after the sneezes from earlier, the tickle at the back of my sinuses absolutely refuses to dissipate. After about 5 mins in the van, I felt the tickle grow and I immediately pinched my nose hoping to hold back the sneeze. Unfortunately, that did nothing to relieve me of the tickle instead making my nose even more tickly. I brought my hand up to cup my nose and mouth, my eyes fluttering shut. “hh’AtKShuHh!- hh'IkKShuHh!-” I sighed as I rubbed my nose, which had started to run. I could feel the eyes of all 3 of my hyungs on me but I chose to ignore them, keeping my eyes on my phone instead.

Thankfully, we arrived at the company soon enough. At this point I just wanted this day to end but since we hadn't even started yet, I guess I can't complain. When we reached our recording studio, Mingyu hyung and Wonwoo hyung started to set up the equipment while Seungcheol hyung pulled me aside. “Are you gonna be fine today, Sol?” I sighed at the concern in his voice. I really needed to get through this recording. I smiled at him. “I'll be fine, hyung. Seriously, you don't have to worry.” Seungcheol nodded before joining the other 2 to help with setting up the equipment.

Soon, all 4 of us were sitting across from each other with a notebook in front of us, trying to come up with lyrics. We had come up with the main melody in the last songwriting session and now we had to come up with lyrics to that melody. I had hoped the tickle in my sinuses would eventually go away as I wasn't directly exposed to pollen. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. I had the irritating need to sneeze almost every second I was sitting there, coming up with lyrics. Though I hadn’t sneezed even once since I entered the studio, the tickle in my sinuses refused to go away. My eyes were also watering and my nose wouldn't stop running. I could tell the others were also aware of my growing discomfort and I was grateful that they chose to ignore it as I was already embarrassed enough.

We were coming up with lyrics for Mingyu's part and since I had helped with the writing of this song, the members kept asking me for feedback. “Vernon-ah, what do you think about this?” Mingyu asked me, passing me a notebook. Even though I tried really hard to focus on his lyrics, the tickling sensation at the back of my sinuses had finally reached its peak and soon enough, my breath started hitching again and I cupped my hands over my nose and mouth. “hh’KtShuhHh!- hh’HktCHuhHh!- hh’KtChUhHh!- Sorry.” Wonwoo handed me a tissue. “Bless you. And don't be sorry.” I nodded, heat rising up my cheeks from the attention I was getting. I cleared my throat, focusing my attention back to Mingyu's lyrics. “These are good, hyung! But for the ‘I got the fantasy and I got the dream’ I think saying ‘I got the’ in English and ‘fantasy’ in Korean would be more effective. It'll sound better too.” Mingyu nodded, scribbling in his notebook before he looked back up at me. Unfortunately, at the same time, I felt the annoying tickle return and my breath started hitching immediately. I felt my eyes water as I tried to keep them open to look at Mingyu. “Hansol, how about-” “Wait a sec, hyungHh…hh'hTkShuHh!- hh'AktChuhHh!- hh'KtShUhHh!- Ugh.” I took out a few tissues from the box Wonwoo had kept in front of me and blew my nose into them. My eyes still watering, I looked back up at Mingyu. “Sorry, hyung.”

Mingyu (and the other 2 hyungs for that matter) looked concerned. “Bless you, Sol. And it's fine. Are you okay?” I nodded and groaned, my nose tickling again. I felt my breath start to hitch but the sneeze just won't come, no matter how much I rubbed at my nose. Letting out a noise of frustration, I rubbed my knuckles back and forth on the bridge of my nose. That seemed to have finally urged the sneeze to come and I quickly pulled out a tissue from the box and turned away from the others. “Hhh…hh'HkTShuhHh!- hh'TtShUhh!- Hh…hh'ItChUhhH!- Oh my god…” I blew my nose again and then turned back to my hyungs. All 3 of them looked concerned and stern. “Are you sure you're okay, Vernon? You don't sound okay at all.” I looked at Seungcheol, meeting his eyes. “I'm fine, hyung. Plus, we really need to get this done. It's just allergies.” Even though I knew that it would probably be easier to just go home and rest, I didn't wanna quit now. I can pull through this, okay? The rest of the hip hop unit looked like they highly doubted I could pull through though. We continued writing lyrics and after what felt like hours, we finally finished the song. I heard Mingyu cheer loudly and Seungcheol let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, we're done with the song. Vernon, do you want to help us record since you wrote the track?” I nodded, moving over to sit in front of the computer.

Mingyu pov:

I seriously wanted to tell Vernon that he was fooling absolutely no one when he said that he was fine. He had been sneezing on and off for the entire day and right now, he looked absolutely miserable. The more time he spent in the studio, the worse he seemed to get even without direct exposure to pollen. But as he refused to rest, there was little we could do to make him comfortable. Right now, he was seated in front of the computer. He looked like he could barely even see through his watering eyes and I'm sure the bright screen wasn't helping at all. Seungcheol hyung had set up his mic to try and record the first few bars of the song unofficially so that we could pick up from there in our next recording session. Just as he was finishing up with his rap, I could see Vernon gearing up to sneeze again. He turned away from the computer, his arm coming up to his face. “hhTkChuhH!- Hhh…hhKtShuhH!- hh'HkTChuhHh!- Hhh…hhKtChUhhH!-” I could see his eyes shining with allergic tears as he turned back to the computer screen and I watched (in horror) as he accidentally clicked the wrong button and deleted the track.

For a minute, I could see him buffering as he probably didn't even understand what he had just done. And then I saw both Seungcheol hyung and Wonwoo approach him in shock. “Oh my god, Vernon-ah, did you just delete the track?!” Seungcheol sounded angry and Wonwoo just looked utterly shocked. Vernon stared at the screen in surprise. “What?”

“Did you just delete the track?! How could you, after all the effort we put into it?!”

I could tell Seungcheol hyung was on the verge of exploding so I quickly stepped in. “Relax, hyung. Maybe we can fix it?” I turned to the computer screen before taking Vernon's seat and scanning through the computer files. Wonwoo hyung joined me. “Try the recycle bin.” He told me and I scanned the app and immediately found the deleted track. I let out a sigh of relief as I restored it. From the corner of my eye I saw Seungcheol collapse onto a chair, looking lightheaded with relief. I scanned the room for Vernon and I found him with his hands cupping his face, his chest rising and falling with desperate gasps. “hh'AktChuhHh!- hh'HkTShuhHh!- Fuck.”

He looked up as he saw all 3 of us staring at him. “Sorry.” He said after a while, looking sheepish. Seungcheol let out a breath. “It's fine, Hansol-ah. But we're taking you home, okay? You need rest and we're not risking you working and then accidentally deleting our track again.” Hansol nodded, keeping his eyes down. I approached him, patting his back. “Hey. It's fine, Sol. We just want you to rest, that's all. Your allergies look like they could kill you right about now.” Vernon laughed at that and I turned to Seungcheol. “Do you want me to drive him home while you work?” I asked and he nodded. I turned to Vernon and picked up my keys. “C'mon then.”

I entered the company parking lot and entered my car, Vernon behind me. The ride from the company to our dorm was a bit long and I could see Vernon slowly falling asleep next to me. When we reached the dorm, I didn't wake him up immediately wanting to let him rest. Eventually, I patted his thigh. “Come on, Hansol-ah. You could sleep more inside.” He nodded tiredly and we entered the dorm. Upon entering, he immediately made his way to the couch and buried his face in his hands. I was about to offer him some water before he gasped softly, his eyes fluttering shut. “hh'HgTChuhHh!- hh'AktShuhHh!- Hhh…hhKtChUhHh!-” He sniffled wetly before looking up at me with tired eyes. I smiled sympathetically. “Bless you. Do you need some allergy meds?” “Yeah, hyung. Thanks.”

I nodded before taking out some antihistamines and handing them to him. After taking the medicine, I could see him fighting sleep almost immediately. I patted his shoulder. “You should get some, Hansol-ah. Today's sneezing must've tired you out.” He nodded tiredly before making his way to his room. Before he entered, he turned around in the doorway. “Thanks for today, hyung.” I smiled at him. “No problem, Sollie. Sleep well.” He smiled back at me before entering his room and collapsing on the bed. I saw him fall asleep almost immediately and I smiled, making my way out the door. As I was driving back to the company, I recalled all the things that had happened that day. I'd say today had been a pretty eventful workday.

#kpop snzfic #kpop sickfic #seventeen #ksnz #idol snz #idol sneeze #seventeen snz #snzfic #snz #hansol vernon chwe #vernon #kim mingyu #mingyu #jeon wonwoo #choi seungcheol #scoups

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whenyoulosesmallmind · 1 year ago

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I fratelli Karamazov 1969 [EP1] - Ivan & Smerdjakov + at Katja's, the beginning of the three thousand rubles affair

As a farewell to 2023 and to a happy new year, I bring you... some more Karamazovian dramatics!

part one | part two | part three (you are here!)

Some sparse notes before the translated transcripts start under the cut: 1. usual disclaimer that I'm not a professional, just an amateur, and am doing this out of pure insanity -- if you want to discuss translation related things or have some corrections, my inbox is open and your thoughts are welcomed <3; 2. mild trigger warnings for (time appropriate): strongly implied slut shaming and more vague possibly mysoginistic remarks made by Smerdjakov about Grušen’ka -- i feel like Smerdjakov himself is sometimes made to fit into the evil gay "advisor" stereotype and that might not be everyone's cup of tea -- while I don't think these bits take anything away from the writing and actually contribute to paint a more vivid picture of the society and the time the work is set in, we must keep in mind that this is a 1969 adaptation of a 1860s novel and that there are things about it that might squick some nowdays; 3. I'm actually really sorry that this took me so long to finish, I've had the dialogues written down and a rough sketch of the translation sitting around for months and polishing it turned out to be an harder task that what I thought it would be. There's still some sentences I'm not 100% sure about, but done in this case is better than perfect, and it doesn't matter how much I mourn the formal you in english, I gotta learn to work without it; 4. that said, this time I relied in a couple of scene on a lot more stage directions than last time, I felt that some more prominent acting/staging choices, especially in the Ivan & Smerdjakov bit, were important enough to warrant a description -- Katja and Dmitrij's interaction I feel instead it relies on more subtle choices for its effect, that are harder to describe, especially on Katja's side, so left it more barebones to give the dialogue more space (so you should watch it to get the full effect, wink wink nudge nudge); 5. enjoy the insanity <33

Interpreters: Umberto Orsini as Ivan Karamazov, Antonio Salines as Smerdjakov, Neda Naldi as M. Chochlakova, Maria Grazia Antonini as Lisa Chochlakova, Carla Gravina as Katerina Ivanovna and Corrado Pani as Dmitrij Karamazov.

Original script by Diego Fabbri, directed by Sandro Bolchi.

You can follow watch the drama here on YT or here on RaiPlay -- I suggest the latter, it's free and it's the original source, but youtube's still there if you prefer.

[INT. – AT THE KARAMAZOV’S/IVAN’S ROOM] min. 14:19

(Ivan snaps his fingers from behind a screen – Smerdjakov enters: he’s here to help Ivan get dressed)

Smerdjakov: (with a servile tone – to keep in mind for all his dialogues: he never drops it) I’m not allowed to say certain things, as I’m just a servant who should only thank his master’s benevolence, but if I may risk a word it’s only because I’m devoted to you, Ivan Fëdorovič…

Ivan: (with a harsh tone – emphasis on devoted; he keeps up the commanding/angry tone until stated otherwise) I sincerely don’t understand why you should be devoted to me! – As you put it.

Smerdjakov: I like to hear you talk, Ivan Fëdorovič… when you’re arguing, downstairs, with your father–

Ivan: That’s rare!

Smerdjakov: (cont. – must note: as Smerdjakov is helping Ivan button the back of his waistcoat, they are talking in front of a mirror and the last piece of this line is spoken while they’re both looking at their reflection) Well, those times I… I never miss a word. Sometimes I even hide, I must confess, to not lose the flow of the conversation… and I can say that you don’t converse: you reason.

Ivan: Is the frac ready? – Did you iron the frac?!

Smerdjakov: Ironed, Ivan Fëdorovič: I overlooked the ironing myself because I don’t trust that muddler, Marfa, nor that hick Grigorj.

Ivan: (amused/sardonic – he’s putting on the cuntiest little round glasses) What is it – what would you have told me if you were allowed to speak freely?

Smerdjakov: Well, now maybe… I wouldn’t dare…

Ivan: You’re allowed! And don’t make me beg you…(grabs Smerdjakov by his hair and pulls him close) you’re cunning.

Smerdjakov: But maybe you already know, Ivan Fëdorovič–

Ivan: What should I know? (he releases Smerdjakov)

Smerdjakov: Dmitrij’s new sudden infatuation for Agrafena Aleksandrovna… they’re talking about it, in town, because Agrafena Aleksandrovna – Grušen’ka, you understand? – she has her own history, and those who have their own history are on everyone’s lips.

Ivan: It’ll be my brother Dmitrij’s usual whim.

Smerdjakov: Well… It may be something more. Certainly something different.

Ivan: Dmitrij has a fiancée.

Smerdjakov: The noble miss Katerina Ivanovna.

Ivan: (with a softer tone, almost dreamily, clearly he’s thinking about Katja) …and there is not a girl more fine nor fascinating – (back to the harsh tone; note that after this rise he softens a bit) so?!

Smerdjakov: And who might say the contrary… but this Grušen’ka, as those who know her say, looks like she might have other… other requirements. I’ve told you she has a history and, for a man as intelligent as you are, it’s all said.

Ivan: (laughs) The shoes – get the bone shoe horn, the long one.

Smerdjakov: (kneeling to put the shoes on Ivan, who is sitting on the bed) And then there’s more that’s riling Dmitrij up, there’s almost a challenge.

Ivan: The gossiper that you are…

Smerdjakov: (laughs) If it were gossip, I wouldn’t speak, Ivan Fëdorovič, but I can always stop here, if you prefer.

Ivan: And speak, then, say what you want to say.

Smerdjakov: For… this Grušen’ka has, how can I say it – given his age, fallen in love is a kind term, is it? – the master fell for her, too.

Ivan: What master?

Smerdjakov: (Smerdjakov looks up to Ivan) Ours – (he looks at the shoe he’s putting on Ivan) mine. Fëdor Pavlovič, you father, sir. (laughs) He’s fallen madly in love!

Ivan: (as he kicks Smerdjakov away, sending him sprawling on the ground) You’re a reptile!

Smerdjakov: I swear on everything I believe that this is the truth!

Ivan: And since you don’t believe in anything, you perjure!

Smerdjakov: (as he gets up to his feet) I guarantee you, Ivan Fëdorovič – the master confided in me, and I already had to run some tasks for him at that lady’s… I don’t badmouth: I confide in you, if you allow me, of course… Fëdor Pavlovič, despite his age, is gone for her to the point he even wishes to marry her – (reaching for Ivan) to this, we’ve come!

Ivan: (he gets up, puts distance between him and Smerdjakov again) Do the two know?

Smerdjakov: The two? – you mean, the father and the son? (as he gets Ivan’s frac and helps him wear it) I believe so, and this is, I think, the true reason for the hatred: no more the heritage. And it’s not yet said that the older one won’t have it his way, Dmitrij’s impetus notwithstanding – and I find him a handsome young man, a young man who should be liked, on the contrary: who is liked, undoubtedly; but this time, in this challenge, eh!, who knows? Because it looks like this Grušen’ka lights, how can I say, lights the amorous fantasy in more mature… elderly men; it’s one of her particularities, they say.

Ivan: (angry) Stop it! – (then, distraught) I have no more need for you, I’m ready.

Smerdjakov: The coat is downstairs, in the wardrobe. I’m sorry I upset you, Ivan Fëdorovič.

Ivan: (still distraught, upset) I’m only thinking about poor Katerina Ivanovna; ignorant, I suppose… (he scratches at the door frame with his fingernails) that upsets me.

[INT. – AT KATERINA IVANOVNA’S/BALLROOM] min. 19:52

(the scene opens with the camera following a waiter carrying a teacups tray through a moderately crowded ballroom; he stops by M. Chochlakova and Lisa)

Waiter: Please, madame.

M. Chochlakova: (takes one of the offered teacups) Thank you.

Waiter: Some tea, miss?

(Lisa shakes her head; the camera returns to following the movement of the waiter amongst Katja’s guests, until he passes by Katerina herself and Ivan and focuses on them – note: Ivan isn’t wearing his cunty glasses anymore, but he’s cuntily holding a cigarette)

Ivan: Yes, I am… I am worried for Dmitrij, the argument with my father over that damned heritage is exasperating him: he withdraws, he hides; we can’t find him for days and days. Do you see him?

Katja: I was hoping to have him with us today, I had a note delivered to his domicile but… who knows if he’ll show up. However, you don’t have to worry so, Ivan Fëdorovič: I know Dmitrij, I know what is troubling him at this moment. We need to let his agitation placate naturally. Why did he target his father so intensely – because now he needs money and he doesn’t have any, and he’s so proud he won’t borrow from anyone: and so he gets exasperated.

Ivan: So you think, Katerina Ivanovna, that money might pacify him.

Katja: No, it’s not the money that gives him peace. Dmitrij is the most generous man I have ever known, money obsesses him only because it lets him act fully free.

Ivan: (smiles) Mh, I admire your intelligence and your… extraordinary lucidity; I did not think that a woman in love could see with such clarity the man she loves.

Katja: I believe it is love that makes me see so clearly, for Mitja’s sake. I know the situation I find myself in.

Ivan: Do you know about… the news, too?

Katja: I know the news, too. (she spots Dmitrij, who just entered) There he is! (she turns back to Ivan, their faces are very close) He came.

(the camera cuts to Dmitrij, standing very still; at Katja’s aunt’s call he comes towards her and kisses her hand)

Katja’s aunt: Dmitrij Fëdorovič, don’t pretend to be a statue, come closer!

Lisa: I hoped you would bring along your brother Alëša…

Dmitrij: Don’t you know he walks a different path than us? And he’s serious about it, my little brother – he’s not like us, he doesn’t mistake the devil for holy water (he spots Ivan and Katja sitting together) Anyway, I see another member of the Karamazov family already preceded me, and is already here.

(to Katja’s aunt) You really want us all, eh?

Katja’s aunt: We would really like to have you all – because you’re pleasant, you Karamazovs.

Katja: (she stands up and walks towards her aunt) Aunt, I’ll let you have him all for yourself later, but may I speak to him for a moment first?

Katja’s aunt: Youths and feelings’ rights, I’ve always respected.

Katja: Dmitrij Fëdorovič, if you’ll follow me. (she exits with Dmitrij following)

(the scene cuts off with a shot of Ivan pensively about to take a drag of his cigarette, he seems to be following Katja and Dmitrij with his gaze)

[INT. – AT KATERINA IVANOVNA’S/KATJA’S ROOM] min. 23:07

Katja: Come, Mitja, come.

Dmitrij: Will it be a long talk? Maybe an explanation?

Katja: (rummaging through a vanity) No. No, I just have a favour to ask you Mitja; you should send this parcel to Moscow for me, to my sister Agaf’ja Ivanovna. It’s not urgent but… you really must be the one doing it, Mitja, because no-one in the house should know.

Dmitrij: Would it be a secret, then?

Katja: There are three thousand rubles inside, my sister needs them, or her husband does, I didn’t understand very well. In any case, I’m sending them personally; there (she hands him the parcel) I told you you can do it at your leisure, then you’ll give me the receipt, but… it has to remain between us, understood?

Dmitrij: I’ll do it right now, I’ll bring you the receipt immediately – (he makes for a side door) can I leave from here? I’d rather not pass through the ballroom.

Katja: But why, Mitja, what are they going to say about this sudden escape?

Dmitrij: They’ll say… they’ll say you asked me to tend to an urgent and delicate matter. Isn’t it the truth, Katja? And then, you won’t be alone: someone from the family will keep you in good company – actually, I’m wondering, why didn’t you ask Ivan for this favour? He would’ve been happy to make himself useful.

Katja: What you’re saying isn’t worthy of you, Mitja. Maybe you don’t even really think it, but… you want to hurt me, I feel it.Dmitrij: Is there anything I’m not worthy of? What is it that’s not worthy of me? Come on, Katja, you know very well how low I can go. I’ll do what you asked me to, and without anyone knowing. (he leaves)

#the brothers karamazov #i fratelli karamazov #mitya karamazov #dmitri karamazov #ivan karamazov #katerina ivanovna verkhovtseva #pavel smerdyakov #sam.exe

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justxrandomxlivia · 2 years ago

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Southern Horns - Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader

gif by daniel-bruehl

Summary: You are a southern states First Sergeant working for the UN. For years you chased a criminal mastermind all around the globe, until he finally appeard to be in England, where you have to work with the SAS together. But a certain, very hot Lieutenant makes it hard for you to breath.

Warnings: Mention of criminal stuff. TW! - Blood/wounds. But overall fluff with light smut at the end ;)

Word count: 4549

AN: (Masterlist) My first time writing Ghost. I wrote the second half about three times new, because i did not like the flow. And somehow the ending happened to be smut :D Forgive me. For the scottish accent and the southern drawl i used two very amazing translators. I'm going to post the links at the end. Anyway, have fun and let me know if you like me to continue the story ^^ - Livana

“Ma’am, we are landing in 5 mins.” A young U.S. marine was kind to let me know. Working for five months with the Marines was clearly difficult, but I managed to survive. We did some good cleaning with the UN near Africa. Freeing the ocean from drug export and import, human trafficking and arms smuggling. But I’m really happy to return home, where temperatures are not made by devil and trying to kill me day after day.

After getting my promotion to First Sergeant, I signed the contract with UN. Now I’m travelling the globe and have to get along with soldiers from all over the world. It’s not so easy as a female U.S. Army Sergant, but despite all those stereotypical comments, I make the best out of it.

But now I will only focus on my six weeks vacation before I’ll return to Africa. As I look out of the plane I feel how we are slowly descending. Something I never can get used to. “yawl comin' downtown with us?” I look behind me as one of my partners asked the front row the regular question, like everytime when we come home. I smile at him and shake my head. “Naw, i need tuh git sum sleep. Hav fun.“

Usually, I would join them. But not today. As I answered I realized how tired I really was. Born in raised in Georgia, I had big issues in my early years in the army. If I couldn’t speak clean, I was not allowed to speak at all. I practised day and night to ‘speak normal.’ Now I just end up in my accent when I’m too tired or when I want to mess with others.

After we landed, I grabbed my bag and got out of the plane. Now taking a one-way trip home. Straight to bed. Hm, almost straight to bed. First I need to take a shower, put my stuff in the laundry and get something to eat. Maybe I’m watching some Desperate Housewives while eating dinner. Should I just order something.

Completely stuck in my thoughts I didn’t heard someone calling for me, I just realised at the moment this someone was stopping me in my tracks as they grabbed my shoulder. I almost jump out my skin, before I saw who it was. “Captain?” I was shocked and disappointed to see my captain here. He only appears when someone gets a new job aboard. “Sir, how can I help you?” I asked. Hoping he just stopped by to tell me ‘Good job’ or something. But that was more a dream than a possible outcome.

He looked at me as if he was sorry. But same time angry. “Sergant l/n. Do you remember Christoph Johnson?” He asked with a stern face. Immediately a bad feeling grew inside me. I let out a long sigh, “Yes sir. The bastard we lost in Mexico last year. He disappeared since then. Don’t tell me he is back on track?” I took a deep breath, preparing for the answer. My Captain turned around an started walking towards hangar four. Then he spoke: “Yes sergeant. He seems to be back. We tracked him down to England. We connected him with nuclear missile smuggle. SAS will be collaborating with us.” Then he stopped. I could not even ask or say anything as he continued. “You trip starts in 10 minutes. You can sleep on board if the flight is not too bumpy.” With this he pointed to the small transport aircraft in hangar four. Then he started walking away, leaving me alone.

Great. Six weeks vacation yeah. I don’t even bother to ask why me. It is obvious. I worked from the beginning of my time in the army to get a hand on Johnson. I worked with so many different branches in the last 5 years, but he was always a step ahead. Hearing that he smuggles nuclear weapons now, is not a good sign. I guess I will work as assistant for SAS. After those years hunting that bastard, I would say, I know the most about him. Even the FBI offered me a job 2 years ago. But I’d rather fight for people of the whole world.

As I make my way to the aircraft, I can feel how my body get’s heavier. I need to take some rest while we are in the air. A friendly Lieutenant greets me and tells me that they’ll drop me off in England where I’ll get picked up by an SAS Sergeant. Short after I placed myself at a window seat, I hear the engines running. The plane takes off and we made it to cruising altitude. Now it’s time to rest. I closed my eyes and fell right away asleep. After a few hours and bad dreams, I woke up as I felt how we were descending. A few minutes later the plane came to a stop. Taking my bag once more, I said good bye to the Lieutenant and left the plane. Just as I made myself a little bit away from the plane, it turned it’s engines on and took off once more. I was standing now completely alone on a open airfield. There was not even a building in the near, no ground control and only few landing zone lights. Do I have hallucinations, or does it smell like rain. Please don’t- ah. “Great.” I mumbled.

Just as I thought about, it began slowly to rain. “Pick up please? Anywhere?” begging to a higher force, as the rain just got heavier. Approximately 10 minutes passed as I saw a big van coming my way. Most of my clothes were drenched already. “Six weeks vacation. Thanks for nothings.” I mumbled once more. I was mad, so mad that I didn’t even planned to speak properly. They’ll get my full force of the south.

The Van came to a stop in front of me. A man with a mohawk stepped out of the car and smiled at me as if the sun just rose. “Ma’am, Sergeant l/n? Mah names Sergeant MacTavish.” He holds his hand out and I took it. He’s Scottish, I guess? “Sergeant, call may y/n playze.” As I spoke he looked at me a little confused, but then smiled even bigger. “Then ye ca' me Soap.” He replied. Now it was me who looked a little confused. “Call sign?” I asked. He only nodded. Then he turned to the van and told me to hop on. As we drove off the airfield, he apologised. “A'm sorry ye hud tae hauld yer horses in th' smirr. Th' message that th' plane lands earlier didnae reached us richt awa'.”

“Sir, with all due respect, Ah didn't understand uh word.” I told him, hoping he will not be mad. And he wasn’t, the opposite, he laughed loud and was so kind to repeat it in English. “I said, I'm sorry you had to wait in the rain. The message that the plane lands earlier didn't reached us right away. Don’t bother to tell me when you don’t understand anything. I love to mess with people that way. Lt. is my biggest fan.” The last sentence was with sarcasm packed.

I giggled at him. “Thought Ahm thonly wun who luvs tuh piss uh paypul with thur accent.“ I giggled once more as he looked at me as if I spoke Japanese. Then he laughed. “So you thought, you are the only one who loves to piss of people, with your accent? Is this southern?” He asked as we turned towards a military base. I smiled and said plain, “Yes, Ahm frum georgia. Ah can spake english as wayul, but i'm too tired. Gist came back frum africa.“ I didn’t even tried to speak properly. To tired, too mad, too anti everything. I just want Food and rest. He stopped the car and spoke to me once more before leaving the car. “Do nae speak to Lt. lik' that. He'll murder ye.” With this he laughed and left the car. I quickly followed him into a smaller building.

Inside, Soap showed me the kitchen, bathrooms and my bedroom. “If ye'r hungry, we bought some things ye might lik'. Wrote yer name oan it. Git some rest, we'll hae briefing at 8 am.” With this he left me alone in my bedroom. First I’ll take the shower, then grab some food and then, sleep! It’s already 1:00 am. I should hurry.

In less than 30 minutes I got all done and laid in bed. The food was okey, they bought some Texas styled rice with vegetables. I had better, but still better than military bag ratios. Not even five minutes passed, as I entered dreamland.

As my alarm ripped me out of my dream at 7:30 am, I felt how tired my body still was. Slowly rising from the bed, I stretched and got myself ready. Quickly, because I didn’t want to miss breakfast or be to late for the briefing. It supposed to get cold outside, so I threw another jacket on, heading now towards the kitchen. Few people were there. Some were eating, some only chatting and some were drinking something steamy. But it didn’t smell like coffee. I guess nobody here drinks coffee.

“Good mornin' y/n. How was yer rest?” Soap greeted me from a small table near the door. “Oh hey Soap, haven’t seen you there.” I said to him a little bit still tired but I was able to pull myself together. He suddenly looked at me confused. “Na! Where is yer cool accent? We need it to piss off Lt.” he said as he puffed out his cheeks in frustration. I could only laugh. He really wanted to use me against his Lieutenant? I ignored his act of mischief and returned with a question to him. “yawl hav coffee?“ soap was clearly happy about that, he pointed to the place next to him, where was set a cup, a pack of instant coffee, sugar and milk. “This is heaven.” I said and sat next to him, the rest 10 minutes I was having breakfast with soap and a good chat about God knows what.

„We gotta go.“ Soap said, placing the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. I did the same and followed him out of the building, across the yard into a bigger building. I followed him into a meeting room, where were a couple of people already waiting. A man with a beard came to me, he held out his hand and said: „Sergeant l/n, it’s good to have you here ma‘am. I’m captain Price.“ I shook his hand and smiled. „Captain, please call me y/n. I’d like to say it’s nice to be here, but looking at the circumstances, it’s not the best reason to meet.“ he laughed a bit. The rest of the team seemed amused itself.

But the atmosphere crashed as I heard a low, light raspy voice speaking behind me. „Wow, you must be are a real fucking hit.“ i turned around and my blood froze when I looked into almost dead glaring eyes, hidden behind a skull mask. Soap tapped me on the shoulder and laughed. „Ey ya, Lt. how was you rest. Did ya sleep well? This is ma freish mukker. Ye'll loue her.“ soap pushed me forward to the creepy man, it felt like he’s using me a human shield. Soap what the hell! I thought. The eyes of the Man grew even more dark. „Speak English MacTavish.“ he growled.

I get it. It is the Lt. Soap talked about. The one he loves to piss of with his Scottish. Then soap, tapped on my shoulder again. „Yo y/n. Don’t want to greet the lt. properly. In your native slang please.“ he giggled like a little devil brat. I frowned as I looked back at soap: „Absolutely not. He looks like he can kill me with only his eyes. I don’t want to die just yet!“ I hissed at Soap. The lieutenant chuckled in amusement. „Smart girl I’d say. You should listen to her Johnny.“ with this he closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall. Soap just huffed and leaned next to the Lt. then he signed me to place myself next to him, as I did, a women entered the room. „I’m sorry for being late.“ she said, while greeting the captain. „No problem, Kate. Can we begin?“ he replied casually. I like them already. The captain and the team seem friendly, soap and I seem to get well along already and the lieutenant is probably not as bad as i think. We will see. As the women named Kate set up different things at the white board, she looked at me. I guess it’s my time to shine. She smiled and walked towards me; I did the same out of respect. “Ma’am, Sergeant l/n. I’m Laswell, keeping everything here together.” I shook her hand and replied. “Ma’am, call me y/n. It’s a pleasure to help out.” She smiled and pointed at the whiteboard. “Would you please let the team know what we need to know. I’m sure not all information has reached me just yet.” With me following her, the meeting began.

After 45 minutes, the briefing was eventually over. The plan was clear. Talk to contacts, find out the locations of the missile, get them covered and find Johnson.

“This time I’ll get that Bastard“ i swore beneath my breath as we packed the trucks. I was just done with my stuff as I looked to the right, there was Soap and the lieutenant, standing and staring. „Is there a problem?“ I asked. The lieutenant shook his head slowly, but soap had a concerned look on his face. „Tell y/n, your thing is personal with Johnson isn’t it?“ he asked calmly but a bit worried. Now it was me who shook the head. „Nah.“ I said briefly. Then I turned to Gaz, „Do we need more refills over there?“ I asked. Hoping he would give me something to do, so I can avoid more question from soap. I don’t want to talk about Johnson. Too much has happened. Too much, what makes the hunt personal. But it’s nothing they should matter about. After I helped Gaz with few more tasks, Price came to us. „Ready to go?“ he asked and Gaz nodded on response. He’s a quite type hm. But seems sympathetic. We got In the truck and I sat next to soap. On the opposite side was the lieutenant sitting. First I thought nothing, but after while, I realised that he was staring at me. The whole time. If he spaced out? I looked at soap and ask with my gesture what’s wrong with LT. Soap started giggling like a little girl. Then he tapped me on the shoulder again. „See, y/n. If you try hard enough, you two might get a hang on telepathy. Let me know when it worked.“ he laughed. But the lieutenant looked away. He’s weird. Maybe he tried to read my mind. After a few more minutes we arrived at an old factory. According to contacts, we would here find a group of crooks who know more about Johnson.

Jumping out of the truck, the lieutenant and I were supposed to get in from the back doors. We made our way around the factory park. Gun aimed, approaching the doors. There were two doors and two seperate hallways. We split up and would meet again after around 100 meters. „Stay on radio.“ the lieutenant said to me before I entered the building. „Yes sir.“ I answered.

As I made my way through the hallway, I could barely see clear through my night vision. After a few more steps I received a radio call from the skull masked man. „What’s your status?“ - „all clear, sir.“ I responded while heading forward. Short after, I heard a clicking and decided to check. „This is not a horror game“ I whispered to myself. As I approached the clicking, I become more tense. Now kneeling i tried to see if there was anything hiding behind the water tanks. A mouse. It was just a little mouse. I giggled quietly and rose to my feet again. „I found a very dangerous animal behind the water tanks.“ I said over radio. „A mouse?“ the lieutenant asked. „Yes“ I answered giggling. He didn’t respond. What a joy killer.

I checked the rest of the area before heading to the reconnection to meet the lieutenant and receive new orders. So far, I didn’t met any of the possible contacts. Just as I was about to turn the corner I received a radio call: “sight on any targets?” The lieutenant asked. “Nothing sir. Just dust and trash - ah. Oh shit.” Just as I made my last steps to the meeting zone, I felt a sharp pain in my leg. Looking down on it, I saw blood. My pants are already turning red. It must be a deep cut. I leaned against the wall, took some scissors out of my bag pack and started cutting my pants. “Y/n. Come in! What’s the matter?“ Lt. Asked over radio. I must stop the bleeding. Quickly. “Sir, not sure what happened, but I’m bleeding out.” I responded quickly and focused on my wounds. Starting to apply a pressure bandage, I heard footsteps coming closer. “Lt. Is that you?” I whispered. I was not ready for fighting right now. But I didn’t get any response either, so instead of biding the bandage properly around my leg, i just tied it once to apply a little pressure. It won’t last long but with that I was moveable with my knife in one hand as I hid behind a pillar. The footsteps came closer and it got heavier to breath for me. I lost already a lot of blood, If I don’t get medical attention to the wound, I could pass out.

“Y/n? You know I can see you behind the pillar?” The familiar low, light raspy voice spoke behind me. “Did you just call me fat?” I protested as I put my knife away. The lieutenant came to me, he kneeled and took a flashlight out. Then he picked a bandage out of his bag and started applying a pressure bandage. “Sir, I can do that myself. No assistance required.” I spoke quickly, trying to get him back on his feet. It made me feel a little uneasy to see a big guy with a skull mask squatting down in front of me. He didn’t say anything, just applied the bandage, then he stood up again. Looking in my eyes he shook his head slowly. “How’d you do that?” He asked not looking away once. I think he is trying to read my mind again. “I.. uh.. I honestly don’t know. I’ve seen few wire traps already, but I took them all down.” I picked up my bag pack to break the eye contact, but when I looked back at him, he frowned. “Guess not all.” He said. “It’s a clean cut. Wire cut.” He continued. “Can you walk? Back to the truck. Your mission ends here.” His voice changed the tone, sentence by sentence. Now he sounded worried. I shook my head to focus on his question again. “Uh yes sir. I can.” With those words, I started walking to the back doors, but the more steps I took, the bigger grew the pain and more slowly moved time. I think I’m fainting slowly. I had to stop, holding against the wall for support. My head hurts, my body started shaking and my ears began drumming.

The lieutenant stood next to me, I looked at him and said calmly. “No worries. Just a second.” I took another deep breath, but he suddenly pushed me with my back against the wall and kneeled backwards down in front of me. “I don’t think so.” He said as he grabbed my hands and pulled me on his back. As he walked a little bent over, so I don’t fall off, my mind was spinning more and more. "What a waste of time." I mumbled beneath my breath. The lieutenant chuckled light, "Better a waste of time, than a waste of life." he said. "True. Still, I'm sorry sir. I-" he cut me off. “Quit that sir shit. It’s ghost.“ he said harshly. I took a breath to answer something as we left the building but he stopped abruptly. „You know what. Call me Simon.“ his voice was not more than a whisper. Does he mean that for real. Soap told me only a few chosen people are allowed to call him by his last name and even less people are allowed to call him by his first name. I felt honoured and smiled. „Thank you Simon.“ with those words, I felt how my heartbeat fasten my ears were ringing louder. Simon was saying something like. „don’t tell anyone or -„ but I couldn’t hear more. I passed out.

„God, my head.“ I muttered with incredible pain. Slowly sitting up, I realise that I was in my bed at the base. Ah yes. I passed out. I remember. I tried to get up from bed, still a little dizzy I had to sit down once again. Taking a deep breath, I stood up and got dressed properly. Making my way out of my room down the hallway. Nobody is in the kitchen, of course, I looked at the clock and saw It’s 3 am. We were at the factory at 12 pm. I was gone for quite some time. I let out a sigh and checked the fridge. I’m only a little hungry. Hm. There is a chocolate pudding with my name on it. I took it and sat down at a small table. Soaked in my thoughts I ate the pudding. It was so silent, the only thing I heard was the clock ticking and the fridge humming.

„I Hope that’s not my pudding“ jumping out of my skin as I heard the low voice whispering directly in my ear. „Holy shit!“ I Yelled, spinning around to face ghost. „Are you trying to kill me lieutenant!“ I yelled at him. He chuckled. „I will kill you if you eat my pudding.“ he poked me at the forehead. „And I told you, it’s ghost.“ he spoke, then he only mumbled „or Simon.“ looking away from me. I couldn’t help it but giggled. "okey, Simon. Why are you still up anyway?" I asked him, he almost jumped as I said his name, but finally looked back at me. He cleared his throat and said "I just came to check on you." somehow I did not really believe that he wanted to check on me. I mean, it's 3 am. He pointed at the pudding and asked with a serious voice: "So, do you have a death wish?" I laughed and shook my head. "Nope. This is mine. I would not touch your stuff. Simon." As I said his name again, this time slower, he suddenly looked away again. Then he cleared his throat and left the kitchen. "Good night." he said and disappeared. What was that…

Hm. I was still thinking about him as I walked back to my room. My leg still hurts but I can walk normally already. As I got ready for the night, someone knocked at my door. It can only be Ghost, right? I walked to the door and open it. There he was, Ghost – in a tight shirt. God damn, is that man hot. His muscles were showing through the fabric. One arm covered in ink, casually in his pocket, as with the other he was leaning against the door frame. I had no idea what to say. All I wanted, was to touch him. I know I should not think that. But it doesn’t hurt anyone if it’s only in my head.

I’m getting more and more hot, in all regions of my body. That urge to touch him is growing stronger. My words are stuck, my heartbeat and my breathing gets faster. He says nothing. He just stands there, looking at me. How does he looks beneath his mask? I want to know how he looks without any kind of fabric. Anywhere. I took a deep breath, I had to stop and ask what he wants. “Simon?” I asked. It was more a whispering than an actual tone. He just stands there, burning my skin with his piercing eyes. Then he let go of the door frame and moved closer to me. I stood my ground. Not moving, not thinking. Just admiring his beautiful eyes, his strong body, his intense personality.

As his face is just a few millimetres away from mine, I can hear and feel him breathing through the mask. It’s heavy and even more hot than my burning body. Biting my lip in ache of the situation, he chuckled quietly. Then he lifted his hand and took my chin. Raising my head so I can’t look away. His lips are right there, right in front of mine. If he would not have that mask on, I would have lost control already and kiss him. Then he said in a deep aching voice. “Close your eyes. Do not peak.” I didn’t even think about anything, just did as he told me. As everything was dark, all that’s left where my senses of hearing, smelling and feeling. His breath is heavy, he smells so good, and his hand feels so hot holding my chin. Then, his lips met mine. No fabric, just pure soft lips. He kissed me carefully, as I returned the kiss, he kissed me harder. One hand grabbed my waist, and he pulled me closer. One hand of me was holding at his shoulder, the other his neck. He was burning, but so was me.

We kissed more, with his tongue he asked for permission, and I granted it. With our tongues dancing, by body began to get weak and my mind was already completely gone. I was filled with ecstasy. With burning desire, to have more of him. He lifted my shirt lightly and began to stroke my back with his hot hand. As ghost pulled me even more close I knew what I wanted. Slowly I walked backwards, pulling him with me.

Then suddenly he let go of me. As I opened my eyes, he was gone. I looked at left and right and saw him just turning the corner. He was gone.

Still breathing heavy. I closed the door and sit on my bed. Now my mind was completely gone. What the hell. I felt heartbroken, disappointed, and angry. He said nothing. He just left. How rude. I sat on my bed, trying to clear my thoughts. Naw mah friend. Yawl made may mad now. Yawl mess with thuh saowthern girl, yawl’ll git thuh horns. I said to myself. Then I got ready for the night, hopping into bed, I was all back to business again. Ready for being professional, and ‘forgetting’ anything that just happened between us.

Alright, I hope you enjoyed it ^^ Let me know if you want me to continue the story.

If you need a scottish translator or a southern drawl translator, here you go:

Scottish / Southern

#cod #call of duty #call of duty ghost #cod ghost #ghost #simon riley #simon ghost riley #soap #soap mactavish #captain price #task force 141 #ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader

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wolint · 9 months ago

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WE ALWAYS MUST DO SOMETHING!

WE ALWAYS MUST DO SOMETHING

Joshua 5:1-10

Joshua 5 teaches us that divine change doesn’t occur solely by God’s decree; we must also take action. We each have a role in receiving God’s blessings and favour. If we neglect our part, we disconnect from God’s part. It’s essential to understand that we must take certain steps to fully experience God’s work in our lives.

Many of us are waiting for God to act, but God is waiting for our obedience. We must do what He has called us to do in the natural world, so He can add His “super” to it. Our prayers and declarations should be accompanied by practical actions. After praying and expressing faith, we must do something while waiting for God’s supernatural intervention.

In the current voting season, people must decide who to vote for. Some may choose not to exercise their right, yet they may be the most vocal when things go wrong. They desire change like everyone else but are unwilling to take practical action.

2 Timothy 2:6 tells us that the hard-working farmer should be the first to receive his share of the crops. Why? Because he took action! He planted, watered, tended, and then waited on the Lord for the rain and good harvest. If he hadn’t done his part, God wouldn’t have anything to work with.

We must work hard, just like the farmer, to put in the effort in our field of work. Put the work in whatever the Lord has called us to, that’s what He blesses, favours and increases. Whether you’re a student, a professional, or a homemaker, strive to do your best. Do your part!

Identify your role so you can understand where you fit in God’s plan. Identify what God is calling you to do in your life. This could be related to your career, relationships, personal growth, or service to others.

One thing, so many believers fail to do is exercise their rights. Their right as ambassadors of God to participate actively in our community and society. When it’s called for, we must step out to vote, voice our opinions, and stand up for what we believe in before asking God to do something on our behalf.

In Exodus 14, Moses had to raise his staff for God to part the sea. At the wedding in Cana of Galilee in John 2, the servants had to fill the stone pots with water for Jesus to perform the miracle. The Lord will never do our part. We must always take action. If we obey God and do what we’re meant to do, He will do His part, leading to the supernatural outcome we desire.

Joshua did something—he circumcised the people in the wilderness. Only then could God allow them into the land flowing with milk and honey. Our obedience to God’s instructions paves the way for divine intervention and miracles. We always must do something but if you aren’t sure where to start, start small: begin with small acts of obedience and service. Remember, even Moses had to raise his staff, and the servants at the wedding had to fill the pots with water.

Like Joshua, we too must be willing to always take action and wholeheartedly obey God’s instructions. By doing so, God will lift us up in due season, as promised in 1 Peter 5:6.

I am taking action by writing this fresh manna. If I hadn’t started when the Lord gave me the vision, it wouldn’t be available for you to read. What do you need to do for God to step in and do His part? Get on with it. Enduring to the end is keep holding on to our faith, even in tough times to receive our rewards. God’s blessings come to those who endure to the end as stated in Hebrew 10:36.

Prayer: Father, you are my strength and wisdom. Help and guide me to always act on your word and knowledge for my upliftment in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shalom

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT PRAYER MIN.

#spotify #devotional #christianpost #women's ministry #biblestudy #biblestudy christianpost women's ministry #biblestudy christianpost 'women's ministry #conference #family #prayer meeting

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lexstellaris · 2 years ago

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Daily Draw - 28/4/23 - Sacred Rebels Oracle (Alana Fairchild)

41 - Bring It Into Form

I've drawn this card a few times in previous readings. It's a call to action, to stop thinking, and start doing. A card of action, and creative expression. You can't achieve things simply by thinking them. You have to do them. It's definitely something I often struggle with, not just with creativity but with other mundane life things too.

It's that sense of uncertainty, not wanting to know, maybe it won't work, maybe I'll fail. That often stops me from doing things I need to do. And it ties in with some of the things Sobek was telling me in meditation tonight. Do the thing. bc you'll regret it if you don't.

I actually really like the imagery of this card, of someone walking along the shoreline, where the waves are moving back and forth, and their footprints remain there in the wet sand. That's what it evokes for me. And the water drops become flowers - or fireflies - as they come into the air. It's that change in form, from something passive, to something active.

There are definitely things I've been procrastinating on. I've got minecraft builds, and artwork, and fics, and ofc other life admin and spiritual/magical work to do. Sometimes I do need that kick in the pants to do them, or finish them, bc otherwise I'll just let them stay by the wayside, forgotten ideas that could have been great if I'd done something with them.

I almost didn't do Senut tonight. I was out at a comedy gig, and while we were home before 9pm, I was still tired, and almost just went for the shortform Kemetic rite I have in my daily rituals book. But Sobek was gentle, and said it was still a good day, and I could do Senut. Just change into clean clothes. The habit won't form if I don't keep it up. And I'm glad I did, and that I have gods so willing to work with my limitations.

I've spent a long time trying to build my spiritual practices back to where they used to be. The pandemic and uni and burn out took a lot out of me, and I'm honestly surprised I kept my 5 min meditation in the morning throughout it all. But it was the anchor that kept me going, and now I'm in a headspace where I'm ready to expand my work.

I've adopted the Hellenic custom of the day starting at sunset. I do most of my spiritual work in the evenings, so it makes sense to use this time to prep for the next day, as that's what I do anyway. So much of what I've been trying to do is to find the right flow, so that these things feel effortless.

So in the evenings, it's Senut and card draws, and some other magical work that's oathbound, bc I've been neglecting that particular thing for a while and I need to get back into it.

In the mornings, I anoint my wrists with some oil dedicated to the planet of the day, then read the Orphic hymn to the same planet, then a hymn to Sobek, then the Orphic hymn to Hekate. Light incense and LED candles, and meditate for 5 mins. It's simple, but it primes my brain, and even if I don't always use that time for Work, but instead let my brain just wander, it's still valuable time to me.

I also have other magical work I've been planning on doing, and this card feels like it's poking me about that too. Stop procrastinating. Stop feeling like there's only one correct way to do the spells you wanna do. Just do them your own way. Let your self-expression come through and make them your own.

This line from the book has stuck with me:

"You are being asked to honour yourself with a commitment to complete your inspired tasks. This will help you grow ... but there is another reason - you know that your inspired ideas are worth translating into practical forms so that other people can access them and experience something special too."

I'm feeling this a lot with much of the Pharaoh Cub fics I've been working on and contemplating writing. Fanfic is very much an avenue for me to process gender feels and explore spirituality and god stuff in a way that's abstract enough for me to work with.

But there's also things here with my Minecraft Java solo world. It's build as a town centred around Hekate and Her worship. I'm working on the cathedral that will sit in the centre of town. And I know I'm procrastinating bc I don't want to mess it up, even though I've built it already in creative and I just need to copy that. There's the fear of it not turning out as good as I want it to. But it won't build itself, so in order to continue the lore of that town, I need to finish it.

Since I don't need to work again until Wednesday, I have plenty of time to start working on these things, and putting in some work towards completing them. bc sometimes you need the universe to kick you in the pants and make you do the thing.

#daily draws #sacred rebels oracle #sobek #hekate #daily rituals #reflective writing #creative projects #do the thing

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auburnaudry · 4 years ago

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Am I Your Forever? - Brock Boeser

A/N: I had lots of free time this weekend now that I’m taking a break from my series. I love Brock and this has been living in my head for a while so I finally decided to write it. I also just wanted to get this out so it’s super unedited, sorry in advance.

Summary: You wanted Brock to be your forever but sometimes he says things that make you think your not his end game. (Ends super fluffy)

Word count: 2410 words

You and Brock had been dating for almost 4 years. He was it for you and you assumed you were it for him, you were perfect for eachother. Your relationship obviously had its challenges but nothing you two couldn’t figure out and over come.

You both were getting ready for Bo and Hollys engagement party and of course Brock was ready way before you.

You were putting your last earring in when Brock came up behind you, slipping his arms around your waste and placing sweet kisses on your exposed shoulder.

“You almost ready” he whispered as his mouth was still attached to you shoulder. He looked up at you through the mirror and your heart melted at the sight.

“Yeah I just need to get dressed then I’ll be ready” he nodded against your shoulder and kept you in his arms, closing his eye for a few seconds.

“Which I can only do if you let go of me” you continued. He chuckled and placed one last kiss to your neck as he let his hands fall slowly down your hips until he wasn’t touching you anymore.

You walked over to your shared closet and slowly slipped your clothes off, leaving you in just your underwear. You took the dress you planned on wearing off it’s hanger and slipped it on. You quickly turned around to call for Brock to help you with the zipper but he was already standing in front of you, leaning on the frame of the closet door.

Brocks cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he was clearly caught watching you changed. Even after almost 4 years of being together he still blushed at innocent moments like that and it made you fall more in love every single time.

“Can you please zip it bubs?” You asked him with a smirk. He didn’t answer, just walked over and motion for you to turn around. He left small kisses on your exposed back as he zipped you up. When he finished zipping the dress he slipped his arms around your waste again.

“Now are we ready? We going to be late if we don’t head over soon.” You and Brock were usually late to most casual events that didn’t have an exact start time. You both got teased about it, everyone thinking you two just couldn’t keep your hands off eachother. But in reality, you too just enjoyed taking your time to get ready and were never in a rush. It’s one of the reasons you two fit so perfectly together, you never put too much pressure on things, you both liked to go with the flow.

The ride over to the party was comfortably silent. You guys were enjoying each others company and the last bit of quiet before you were stuck with hours of loud music and constant talking.

Your stared out the window thinking about you and Brocks future engagement, how fun it will be to be engaged to your best friend and the love of your life. You two didn’t talk about the future too often because, again, you both liked to go with the flow. The few times it did come up though, he seemed excited and like a future with you was something he wanted.

When you arrived to the party, you were pulled from you thoughts by Brocks hand giving yours a squeeze.

“You ready?” He questioned.

“Always” your go to response anytime he asked you that. You entered the party hand in hand and began greeting everyone you knew.

Later on in the evening, you were sitting at your table with other canucks players and their significant others. These people had become family to you in the time that you’ve been with Brock, so the entire night had been filled with laughs and light hearted conversation.

“So are you guys next?” Micaela spoke looking in yours and Brocks direction. Before you had the chance to answer though, Brock spoke.

“No definitely not” he said laughing. Everyone else at the tabled laughed along. You just gave a small smile, pretending to not be hurt by his words. You weren’t one to make a scene and say something in front of other people so you bottled it up and hoped that you would have enough courage to bring it up when you two made it home.

The rest of the night, you were consumed by your own thoughts. Why did he sound so disgusted at the thought of marrying you? Your heart physically ached. Were you stupid to think he was the one?

You tried your best to seem unfazed by his comment but it kept eating away at you.

“You okay babe?” Brock whispered in your ear on the dance floor. You were lucky because he too hated drawing attention to your problems in public.

“Of course, just tired.” You weren’t sure if you voice was convincing enough, but it must have been because Brock dropped it.

“Me too, we can head home soon.” And within the next 30 mins you were saying your goodbye and congratulating Bo and Holly on your way out.

The ride home was quiet, but not the comfortable silence you felt on the way to the party. But you didn’t want to bring up your feelings. You were embarrassed that you were on a completely different page than your boyfriend.

As soon as the car was parked, you hopped out and went inside. You stripped your clothes and threw on your Pjs, too tired to even take a shower. You wiped your makeup off with a wipe and washed your face. As you started to brush your teeth Brock walked into the bathroom. He wrapped his arms around your middle again and kissed your cheek.

“Your sure your okay? You seem off.” He asked looking you directly in your eyes through the mirror in front of you. The eyes contact made you nervous so you looked down at the sink and nodded since you couldn’t respond with your mouth full of toothpaste.

You finished your nightly routine and crawled into bed. Shortly after, Brock turned all the lights off and crawled into bed next to you. He pulled you into his chest and kissed the top of your head.

“I love you baby girl, goodnight” you could tell Brock was a little worried about you but didn’t want to push things, so he didn’t bring it up again. He knew you would bring it up to him if something was really bothering you or when you were ready.

“Love you too, night” and with that you both went to sleep.

...

You and Brock were having a relaxing day at home with the puppies. It was rare that you got an entire day to spend together doing whatever you wanted so you decided on staying home and just enjoying each others company.

You were cuddled up on the couch talking about anything and everything with the TV playing in the background. You were interrupted by Brocks phone buzzing from under you and you were forced to get up and look for it.

“Hey mom” he answers the FaceTime call when he finally found the phone between the couch cushions. You also say hello and then leave to go grab a snack from the kitchen. When you got back to the couch, you focused on the TV while Brock continued his conversation with his mother.

“So when are you two going to get married.” Laurie asked. You weren’t paying much attention before so you weren’t sure how it even came up, but now you were completely focused on how Brock was going to respond.

“Couldn’t tell you, stop asking.” Again your heart sank into your stomach. This is now the second time he was asked about marrying you and his response was the same both times.

Just like the night of the engagement party a couple weeks earlier, you got lost in your thoughts again, questioning your entire relationship.

They continued talking for a little bit and eventually you and Brock said your goodbyes to Laurie. You stayed quiet for the rest of the day and avoided Brocks touch. You were so upset, but again you were too embarrassed to even bring up how you were feeling.

That night you decided to take a bath. You didn’t take baths often but loved it when you had the time. You always asked Brock if he wanted to join, but tonight you were too upset with him. So when he took the dogs on their walk, you went to the bathroom and shut the door.

You filled the bath with bubbles and a fun LED light to set the mood. You had just recently installed a TV in the bathroom for nights like this, so you turned on your favorite show and got into the tub. It was really calm and relaxing for about 5 mins but your body tensed up when you heard Brocks voice.

“Babeeee?” He called through the house. You could hear his footsteps get closer to the master bedroom “Bubs are you in here?” You didn’t respond. You thought maybe he would give up after looking in the master bedroom, but you were wrong.

He must have noticed the bathroom door was shut and the lights were on because soon after he called for you he knocked lightly on the door.

“Hey baby you in there?” His voice was sweet, laced with a little bit of concern, probably since you weren’t in the spot he had left you before he walked the dogs.

“Yeah babe.” You tried your best not to give away the fact that you were upset. You heard the door handle jiggle followed by the squeaking of the hinges as Brock opened the door to peak his head in.

“You didn’t tell me it was bath time.” He looked at you, a little hurt that you didn’t invite him.

“Sorry” was the only response you could think of.

“What’s wrong babe, your acting weird.” He walked into the bathroom and kneeled beside the tub. All of a sudden you felt extremely exposed and wrapped your arms around your chest to cover the bit that was visible over the bubbled.

Tears started rolling down you face and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Brock quickly stood and undressed himself moving you slightly so he could slip in behind you. He held you, trying to make you feel better, but you didn’t relax into his touch and it was very noticeable.

“D-did I do something?” He questioned. You slowly nodded, turning yourself around in the tub and sitting across from him. His face fell as you nodded and moved away from him.

“Are you breaking up with me?” He whispered clearly afraid of the answer.

“No no of course not I-I would never.” You voice was still a little shaky from the crying. His expression soften from your reassurance.

“What’s wrong baby, you have to tell me.” He grabbed one of your feet as he spoke and started to rub it. You were quick to pull it away because you wanted his full attention on you.

“Do you not want to marry me?” Now you were the one whispering, afraid of what the answer might be.

“What? Of course I want to marry you one day, what kind of question even is that?” You looked at him confused.

“When mic asked when we were gonna get engaged at Holly and Bo’s party you acted disgusted at the thought and today your mom asked you a similar question and again you responded like she was crazy for asking.” He now understood why you were so upset and he felt so guilty “I-I just... it really hurt my feelings, like is the thought of marrying me that bad? And if you don’t want to marry me are we just wasting our -“ Brock cut you off before you could even finish your sentence.

“Please don’t ever think like that, I love you more than anything, I want you to be my wife and I want to start a family with you.” You finally felt at ease with his words “I only responded like that because we are really private about our relationship, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if I said yes and then everyone starts asking questions. And we really haven’t talked about it ourselves much so I didn’t want to put you on the spot. I wasn’t sure if you were on the same page as me, so I responded the way I did to get everyone off our backs.” He reached out and grabbed your hand and pulled you back between his legs with your back to his chest. “I’m sorry I hurt you and had you second guessing us.” You now understood where he was coming from and why he said the things he said

“It’s okay I understand now, I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up sooner.” He kissed your exposed shoulder and you finally relaxed into his touch.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He spoke after a few short moments of silence.

“Hmm?” You hummed, unsure what he was alluding to.

“About us, our future?” You smiled and grabbed one of his hands from your waste, bringing it to your mouth to place a kiss on it.

“I would love nothing more.” With that, you two talked about your future and when you wanted to get engaged, how long you wanted to be engaged before you got married, how long after you got married did you want to start having kids, how many kids you guys wanted, and so on. You spent so much time talking, the water turned cold and you were forced to get out of the bath.

You both dried off and finished your nightly routines, meeting eachother in bed. Once you were both laying comfortably in bed, Brock pulled you in for a long, passionate kiss. When you both pulled away to catch your breathe he rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you and want to spend the rest off my life with you, please don’t ever doubt that.” Brock whispered.

“Good cause your stuck with me .” The rest of the night was spent kissing and exchanging I love you’s. You truly couldn’t have picked a better guy to spend the rest of your life with.

#brock boeser #brock boeser x reader #vancouver canucks imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #brock boeser fic

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yournameyn · 3 years ago

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Feeling Deeply Chapter 5

Genre: Arranged Marriage Fic. Fluff turning into angst?

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Summary: The story of two deeply feeling nerds who find themselves in an arranged marriage. (Details here). Our OC is called Brishti. It’s a Bengali name meaning rain. Namjoon calls her Rim (short for her pet name, RimJhim which means the pitter-patter of rain). She calls him Joon.

Warnings: NOT THE NAMJOON OF OUR DREAMS. Argument. Fight over tiny discrepancies that turn out to be a huge problem. Domestic violence. Not a happy chapter.

A/N: Have you ever felt this, reader? When you watch something and realise exactly what you need to realise in that moment? I’ve had that so many times - seeing my feelings mirrored in a show. That’s something that I’ve tried to have Brishti feel here. Also, this is how I see the natural progression of this Namjoon, the one who obliged to duty rather than his dreams. It took me a long time to write this but I love what’s come out. Let me know what you think!

Current Chapter: London, late 1963. Love fully blooms between Namjoon and Brishti. And yet, something’s not right. A visit to the ballet and a conversation brings forth realisations. The inklings that Brishti was trying to avoid transform into writing on the wall.

Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

The magic about new love isn’t really in romance or even in true intimacy. It’s in how violent new love is… and just how much time it takes us to feel it’s impact.

In the new love between Namjoon and Brishti, everything had been roses and honey, overflowing, swaying in a gentle breeze. They spent every second possible in each other’s arms. They had to tear themselves away from each other when they had to leave home. And even then, it hurt as though they were part of the same cloth.

Brishti had thought about how they had become woven, their souls an ornate tapestry. Namjoon had told her then about a Japanese tradition of weaving that was a sort of meditation and a kind of worship to a god called ‘Musubi’. The disciples say it is like being part of the cosmic tapestry. Being tied to each other.

“Just like we are… I felt a pull toward you and I followed it. I was scared… so full of doubts about who you were and how this was all going to go… I had promised myself that I would fulfil my duty… whatever happened ” Namjoon had said, petting Brishti’s hand gently, “And I… I still can’t believe it… It… you make me feel like I can… trust myself.” Brishti had looked at her genius then and wondered what a strange world it must be that made a man like Namjoon doubt himself, “Always, always trust yourself, Namjoon-ah.” and settled into the crook of his neck.

It was indeed a strange world that caused Namjoon to build an armour around himself. Because ‘London’ and ‘Lonely’ sounded just the same to him. His years alone in this strange place had been unkind, unrelenting. Brishti had been the only softness he had felt in a long long time. Armours built over years can break in an instant, though. For him, it was the moment when he and his wife had crossed the threshold to becoming lovers. High on the magic of new love, he had not realised it.

Sitting across from each other after that fateful evening, Namjoon and Brishti were both wide awake in the early hours of the next morning. Brishti buttoned up the shirt they never fully took off. Namjoon had tickled her with his toes. They propped their feet against the other’s to see just how vast the difference was (he melted seeing how small her feet were and hadn’t stopped playing with them since). Caressing each toe, he remembered something he wanted to ask -

“How did you know what Saranghae is?”

“Mm…” she stretched her arms, “I know what it means…” Brishti said.

“I know you know… from the way you… after I said it… You asked Yoongi about it?” Namjoon cautiously asked about the only other Korean Brishti knew. To his surprise, she nodded no, still denying him any information. Namjoon had to tickle her foot for the answer.

“Okay! Okay! Wait! Pleeeease!” Namjoon stopped and Brishti bent down to the bureau next to her bed and pulled out a textbook - LEARN HANGUL THROUGH ENGLISH. Namjoon looked more shocked than she had expected. “I asked Yoongi about the book-”

“You don’t need to Rim… I’m not learning Bangla, am I?” Namjoon said. He was touched but he didn’t want his love to do anything he couldn’t reciprocate.

“I would have asked you to learn it… if I wrote poetry in my mothertongue...” Brishti said. Namjoon was shocked. She went on, “You really think I didn’t know?”

Namjoon blushed and smiled and flopped over in Brishti’s lap. She brushed his hair as she explained, “You light up at the mention of lyrics and poetry, you keep a notebook by your side at all times, you’re moved by the things that people usually don’t pay attention to… I know you’re a poet, Joonie.”

Namjoon looked up at her and said, “No one has ever called me that…”

Brishti leaned down and kissed her gorgeous husband. “You are... From what I know, I bet all my books that you are a great one... And… I… I would love nothing more than to be part of your world of words, Joonie… It must be strange… to be understood but in a foreign language. If you would let me, I want to understand you in your language… Do you think that’s something maybe--”

He got up and all but jumped on Brishti, pinning her down to the bed with the cutest puppy-yell she had ever heard. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

They both understood that this was a proposal. The truest kind - a gentle request to explore Namjoon’s universe. They would later joke about how she proposed to him after a month of being married. Namjoon was completely delighted by this person with him, his person… one who really saw him.

He pulled her to him saying, “You’re the best part of my world, Rim...” and kissed her.

Each moment of love flowed through the next. When they had to be separated, they couldn’t wait for the next one, their moment again. On weekends they would visit museums and find their favourite paintings and sculpture or their favourite prehistoric relic and animal. Brishti hated the fact that Namjoon had to work overtime to compensate for these weekends and she often voiced how unfair it was.

In response Namjoon would just give her a peck and say, “As long as I have you, I’m happy.” This pricked her but she was too taken by the man before her to pay heed to it.

Namjoon was just about able to keep a straight face at work but everyone around Brishti was acutely aware of how much she loved Namjoon.

At one point, her colleague and best friend, Min Yoongi had yelled at her, “Yhaaaaa! Stop blushing?! It’s just a clock… what could be romantic about a clock?!” Sayuri-san, and she were hanging around Yoongi’s table when Brishti looked at his new flip clock and started blushing.

Brishti laughed along with everyone else but explained, “It’s involuntary… that’s what happens when you’re married to a poet.”

Sayuri-san corrected, “I know too many wives of poets to know that’s not necessarily true… It is true though, when you’re in love with a poet… Go on… tell us how exactly poet Namjoon makes you blush about a clock...”

Brishti blushed even more at that. Yoongi rubbed his arms and demanded, “Tell us because there’s some really weird things coming to my mind… like you guys have an exact time when...”

Brishti stopped his imagination, “No no no… it’s nothing like that… he loves digital clocks... because he loves to watch the time turn to 00:00… zero o’clock he calls it… and on days he feels sad, it’s like zero o’clock is always there to comfort him… like it’s a point when the whole world holds its breath and he can feel happy again… but these days… with me… he said he wants the clock to keep going after 23:59… he wishes time would stretch on… beyond 24:01…”

Yoongi sighed and sat back down, “You’re making me fall in love with Namjoon… ahhh that is beautiful. He should be published...”

“Imagine him saying this directly to you and you might know how I feel… I can’t stop talking about him...”

“Oh, we know. But honestly none of us care… your poet-librarian romance is getting us through our single-ness.” Yoongi reassured her.

The three of them continued to talk about the ways in which Brishti could repay Namjoon’s wordsmithing in graphic ways.

It was that evening, wasn’t it, when Namjoon had enveloped her back in the warmest hug as soon as he’d entered their flat. Brishti was in the kitchen when she heard him enter but hadn’t expected this. He kissed her neck while telling her the good news, “We got our first Korean client today… because of me… Mmmm… Why do you always smell so amazing?”

Brishti turned around and hugged him again, “That’s amazing! Namjoon-ssi! I’m so proud of you!”

“He’s from a wealthy family… so he can actually afford our firm… its not exactly the work I wanted to do--”

“It is a step toward that idea, right? It’s still good work, fighting for justice?” Brishti asked, stopping him from undermining his own work.

Namjoon nodded, “Yeah… He’s a dancer… Park Jimin. All the posh types know him as one of the best dancers in the Royal Ballet. They call him Jim… as if it’s too difficult to say Jimin?” Namjoon shook his head in disapproval. He began helping Brishti with the chopping and continued, “He was born in the UK and trained since he was 5... He got into the Royal Ballet but he’s been passed up to be a principal over and over even though everyone who has seen him dance apparently knows that he’s far far better… So recently he spoke to the director there... and of course the director made a racist slur and asked not to bother him with this again. He can’t even quit and work at another company because of the contract they have him on. There’s a non compete clause… meaning he won’t be able to dance with any other company. That’s all he wants… to be able to get out of that contract… I’m hoping to convince him to press charges on racial discrimination too. We’re not in the 20s anymore.”

When Brishti didn’t respond, Namjoon looked up at her. “That’s horrible… I’m so so glad you’re taking up the case. But please tell me what you ate when you were alone?” He looked down at the carrot he’d been failing to cut.

Namjoon scrunched his nose and admitted, “Canned food mostly.”

Brishti said, “I’m really really glad you’re getting to do work that you are passionate about, Joonie, you deserve it. Now, you should know how to cut a carrot.”

Namjoon pressed up against Brishti’s back. She reached back up to the nape of his neck and made him moan into her. Then… then Namjoon made her forget how to cut carrots.

He had these ways… Namjoon, with his touch, his voice, his languages both spoken and soundless. He was lighting new paths into her self. She loved learning him. Paths she didn’t know existed, that she’d been longing for.

The scars of the loneliness, emptiness that Namjoon had experienced had turned his longings into a kind of starvation. He needed to be nourished and also devoured. Brishti was just the creature to do it. He could feel her warm fingers trace rows of pleasure onto his skin. He felt them bear down and singe when the two of them had to move away from each other. He felt those ropes tug at him as the end of his workday neared. Namjoon closed his eyes each night at her touch, the feeling and fragrance of her body. He felt blooms of intimacy spring up like seedlings out of the soil of his skin. And deeper. In the earth of his soul. So he did the only thing he could. Reciprocate. Namjoon sowed his love, his desire, his need onto her, into her every night.

There were times, though, when she would feel his absence in the middle of the night and see him working in the dim light of a lamp. She knew he had to work hard to do what he wanted but she also saw he had to continually prove himself to people who weren’t even paying attention. The reason they weren’t paying attention was painfully clear to Brishti but she was yet to experience it’s full stab.

Namjoon wanted to shield her from it. He was counting on an armour that didn’t exist anymore to protect himself and his wife… the reason he liked his life again. Whenever she came out and switched on a brighter light, reprimanding him for straining his gorgeous eyes, he saw that it did prick her - this world and the unfairness he had to endure. She would say something small, an almost-complaint that alerted him… against her for some strange reason. She would say something that would be easy to ignore and yet would prick him, like - “I don’t know why they haven’t promoted you yet.” or “Why haven’t they taken up Jimin’s case yet? You’ve worked so hard on it.” Everytime she did that, he would have to pacify himself.

‘I’ve told her so much about the Jimin case… she’s just really invested’ Namjoon thought to himself. Just so he would avoid thinking, ‘I shouldn’t have told her.’

He would have to calm himself, give her a peck and try to convince her to stop worrying. “As long as I have you, I’m happy.” Namjoon would always say.

Then, Brishti smiled as she always did. While trying to understand why that sentence bothered her so much. After almost five months of exploring this wonderful man, some part of him still felt unfamiliar… like it didn’t fit in with the rest. Still, these things take time, she had heard from so many women over the years. Besides, she was blessed with a man far far above the norms. So, how could she prod? These are things Brishti had told herself - until the night she couldn’t stay silent.

The couple was coming up on their fifth month together and Park Jimin had gifted Namjoon a ticket to the final show of the season as a token of gratitude, for having heard his story.

Brishti was nervous about going to this kind of a gathering and had told her husband to meet her there.

She had enlisted the help of Sayuri-san to look appropriate for the event. Her slightly longer hair was clipped and her eyes were kohled. She wore a burgundy knee length fringe-ended dress that she had received from her gracious host, stylist and make-up artist - an inheritance of her brilliant life tucked into the black pearl beading and deco design. It was a big departure from the usual tie-die or band tees and jeans with her baggy coat. She had carried the coat but felt this strange sort of compulsion to stand in the cold air in the noodle strap dress, for him to see her.

She felt butterflies in her stomach and kept fiddling with the coat she had draped over her arm. It was electric when she saw him.

Namjoon looked gorgeous in a tux. All of Brishti’s nerves were soothed just by looking at him. He had brushed his hair back. Tall and dashing - better than any heathcliffe could ever be. And with his reading glasses, he looked like the lead of a romance novella that would make all the women swoon. Indeed she was swooning. Brishti was suddenly warm in the chilly, windy night. And when Namjoon saw her, blood rushed to her cheeks. Everything inside her was running helter skelter in a panic. Brishti felt everything drop in the few moments it took for Namjoon to reach the top of the stairs. Dolled up like this, outside of her element, she felt like an imposter. Some angel needed to be standing in her place. For the first time, feigning beauty, Brishti felt like she wasn’t worthy of her husband.

She was finally able to keep her feelings aside when he reached her.

Namjoon kissed her palm like a gentleman and whispered in her ear, “Let’s go home… I need a private kind of dance…” Brishti blushed. Namjoon put his arm around her and felt the chill that had settled on her skin. “Aren’t you cold? Why didn’t you wear the coat?” Namjoon asked. Brishti just shook her head no and the two of them walked in.

Brishti assumed that the ballet would be a welcome distraction from the storm that brewed within her. She had read up about the show, the piece they were going to perform -

Tchaikovsky’s venerated Swan Lake. The story of a young girl who falls in love with a prince who promises to save her but fails. Ofcourse there were finer nuances to the story but this was the basic plot. As the lights dimmed, Brishti felt pulled in by the music, the eerie beauty of it’s melody played in perfectly with the questions that were swirling around in Brishti’s mind -

Why do I feel wrong?

Is this what Yoongi was talking about? Anxiety…?

Why does Namjoon look so... different?

Why is he so quiet, so… distant…It’s like he’s keeping himself away from me despite being right next to me, arm in arm, like the true Namjoon is somewhere in a glass case? Deep deep beneath whatever this creature is who is next to me?

I’m thinking too much. No. What is this? Why am I feeling this way?

It’s the music… no its not just the music… something is fucking wrong because all I feel like doing is breaking that glass case that’s locked away My Namjoon and presented this fucking imposter. What the hell is going on?!

Brishti barely managed to keep it together. She kept her eyes on stage…

It was like seeing a moving painting being created by invisible hands and the music was the sound of the brushstrokes, amplified. Park Jimin was playing Rothbart, the owl-like magician who curses Odette into a swan until she finds someone who would promise to love her forever. The questions in her mind and the power of the spectacle before her forced her tears to keep flowing.

Namjoon saw Brishti cry and held on to her. But the more he tried to comfort her, the more uneasy she became, the more she coudln’t contain the tears in her eyes.

The curtain fell at the end of Act three when the prince realises he has been tricked. Brishti, somehow, mirrored his grief. The prince was cheated by Rothbart into believing that his daughter, Odile, was Odette. Rothbart relished his plan so despicably it made Brishti’s stomach turn. The prince had already declared to the ballroom full of people his vow to love and marry the maiden by his side - Odile, not Odette. Park Jimin played Rothbart so skillfully, so beautifully that despite being the villain, despite being covered from head to toe, he was the star. Rothbart giggled delightfully as he revealed to the prince that the girl in his arms wasn’t Odette at all. That Odette was waiting for her prince by the lake. The curtain fell as the prince felt the stab of betrayal and rushed to Odette.

Brishti rushed to where she did not know. She wanted to get away from Namjoon, from this feeling that she couldn’t understand, couldn’t explain. She was angry. She wanted to break something. Tears still flowing down her face, she found a corner that was hidden away in darkness. She went in. Brishti sat on the couch there, for what seemed like eternity, breathing heavily. Nothing made sense. It felt like her insides were twisting into each other. Suddenly, though, a door creaked open and out came an angel. A man, glowing, having just freshened up. He saw her, saw her fear and instead of pulling back in shock, approached with a strange kindness. He held her wrist and stayed silent for a moment.

His beauty was also a kindness to her. In that moment, Brishti could breathe a little bit better. He sat down by her knees, on the floor and when he spoke, his voice flowed like a tonic, “First time at the ballet? It’s overwhelming… I know. You’re okay. You are safe. Rothbart is not here. Talk to me… what are you feeling?”

The tears kept flowing. This man was different, she knew he understood what she was feeling like. She felt safe, but not as if she was with a saviour, rather as though she was with another victim.

“What are you feeling…” Park Jimin repeated. The pieces were falling into place in her head. This is Park Jimin, the man who danced as Rothbart. The man who should have danced the Prince. Who should have played Odette and Odile.

“I feel… rage.” Brishti trembled as she spoke. She could breathe again.

“Yes… Rothbart is… evil… I’m sorry-”

Brishti nodded her head no. “At the prince.”

Jimin was surprised. “Let it out. You can scream in here and no one would know.”

Brishti didn’t need another invitation, but her rage wasn’t a scream, it was a whisper - “I want to hit the prince. How could he not now? He couldn’t see that that girl was not Odette? Is he blind? The way she moved, the way she danced… which only means… it means that the prince knew… somewhere he felt doubt but he… He couldn’t fucking trust himself enough?! I don’t know why this is breaking my heart… Why can’t people trust in themselves?! It’s a pathetic fucking excuse and I can’t buy it… I just can’t. Why did the prince...” Her hands covered her face as she wiped her tears. She composed herself.

Jimin pulled out a kerchief. “May I?” Brishti nodded and he dabbed her face with care.

“The prince trusted his sight more than his soul. And now, Odette will die because of it. As always, the woman pays the price.”

“He dies too, you know.”

“What a waste…”

Jimin smiled, “Thank you… for watching the show, for feeling it so much.”

Brishti managed a weak smile, “Thank you.” Jimin stepped away and sat next to her, at a respectable distance. “I’m being lied to.”

Jimin nodded, “I know what that’s like. I feel that rage against the prince too. And still, we must be kind to our liars.”

Brishti clenched her teeth, “Why? Where’s the fairness in that?”

Jimin moves away, in a dejected kind of daze and pours himself a drink, “That’s the biggest lie, fairness. Cruel joke.”

Brishti walked toward the door. “I should go… Thank you.”

Jimin raised his glass to her.

Brishti wore her coat and walked toward the exit. She found Namjoon in a panic and suddenly felt like she could reach him. He looked so relieved to see her. She couldn’t help but feel awash with love as he crashed into her in the warmest hug. It was as if he was the one who was lost.

“Are you okay? Why were you crying?” Namjoon asked her as he stroked her head and held her in the hug for as long as she needed.

“I need to ask you something.” Brishti whispered as she pulled away. They began walking down the stairs of the theatre.

“Änything.” Namjoon replied.

“Your firm… they refused the Jimin case, right?”

Namjoon froze. His jaw locked up. “Let’s go home.”

The rest of the way, neither of them spoke a word. They entered their home in a cold silence. They washed the night off themselves and entered their bedroom, which was completely devoid of the heat and desire that usually filled it right up to the ceiling. What used to feel like an ocean, now felt like a vacuum.

When Namjoon walked in, Brishti reminded him, as kindly as she could,“I said I need to ask you something. You said, ‘anything’.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about it.” Namjoon was cold again. Unfeeling. Unreachable.

Brishti tried her best to be calm… “When would you want to talk about it?”

Namjoon breathed in - “Why? Am I answerable to you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we disagree. I don’t think I am answerable to you. What would you have done if I wouldn’t have told you about it in the first place?”

“I would still be feeling what I’m feeling… I would be even more furious though.”

“Fu- why would you be furious? I have to work there, I lost the account. I’m feeling hurt and disappointed in myself and instead of helping me, you’re angry?! What the hell could you be angry at?!”

“I’m being lied to. I’m being tricked.”

“What?!” the contempt on Namjoon’s face made her head throb. He was angry now.

“There are two Namjoons here. I’m being told there’s only one and--”

“That is some philosophical trash that you learned from one of your books. Real life doesn’t work that way. But how would you know?! You don’t have a real job. You have a hobby. A hobby of stacking books in order. You’re just plain lucky that someone is paying you for your hobby. That’s not a job. You of all people cannot tell me about the things I have to do to keep my job. I have tried my best to be as honest as I can be--”

“As honest as you can --”

“Listen to me!” Namjoon thundered. His loud voice might as well have been a punch. It rang through her body and rattled her bones. She had tears in her eyes but clenched them down as Namjoon continued yelling, “Enough… enough with the fucking tears. What the fuck are you so sad about?! I don’t need you to pity me. I don’t need anyone to feel sad for me. I have tried to be a good man - do you even know how much other men don’t even mention to their wives?! I told you everything. EVERYTHING. And now I’m being punished for it. Time and time again I tried to console you… even though I was the one hurting… I tried to be there for you and tell you… as long as I have --”

Brishti couldn’t take it anymore “Don’t. Say that.” She didn’t yell. Her voice was just above a whisper and yet it sent a chill down Namjoon’s spine. She wiped her tears. “I didn’t ask to be consoled. I was just… curious. If a few questions from me hurt so much maybe you should ask yourself why. I’m not lucky that someone decided to pay me for my hobby. It’s nice to know what you really think of my job. But whatever you think, I created my job. I created my life. I fought to come to london. I fought for the right to earn--”

“Oh please... spare me the feminist lecture...” scoffed Namjoon.

“Sure. Take up Jimin’s case.”

Namjoon felt the burn of white hot rage. He wanted to strangle her. He was so used to touching her… and she was his… in this bedroom, he had made her his. He wasn’t thinking. Namjoon strode toward her and held one massive palm over her mouth and the other on her neck and pinned her to the wall. “YOU WOULDN’T HAVE KNOWN ABOUT THAT IF I DIDN’T TELL YOU.”

It took him a few moments to realise what he was doing. Brishti was shocked and tried to scream but no voice came out. She was trying to get him out of his daze when he finally saw her, saw his Rim, horrified… by him. Namjoon pulled his hands back instantly. He saw a red bruise bloom where his hands were - on her face and on her neck.

“This is how you make your conscience shut up?” Brishti’s voice was hoarse. “You think this has nothing to do with your conscience? With the best part of you? The part that you made me fall in love with? Are you really telling me you don’t know that this is why you can’t write the way you used to… You’re killing my Joon and asking me to stay silent. I can’t.”

The searing anger still hadn’t died and it burst out of him, “Why are we fighting like this… over Jimin… why don’t you take up his case if you fucking love him so much?”

“What do you think I’m doing right now?”

“You… Why are you fighting for him against me?!” It was here that Namjoon realised his armour was gone. The idea of who he is... suddenly vanished. And the one thing that had made him feel safe, like his true self, was slipping away. “You’re saying… just tell me… you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

Brishti did him the only kindness she had left in her, she explained, “Jimin wants to leave but can’t. He stays because he needs to dance. He stays because he cannot get out of his contract. You say you want to help people like Jimin, you roll your eyes at white people who can’t pronounce our names, you feel guilty for asians who have much less than we do… but then you also don’t raise an issue when your boss holds meetings in clubs where people of other races and dogs and women are not allowed. You work overtime for the privilege of weekends… You say you are trying but… as far as I know… you don’t have a non-compete clause in your contract, Namjoon.”

That hit him like an iceberg. Namjoon’s legs gave way and he just sat on the bed.

He watched as Brishti put on her coat and left, covering her bruises with a scarf.

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Chapter 6 - to be posted.

#bts kim namjoon #kim namjoon #forever rain #fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon arranged marriage #namjoon x oc #arranged marriage #slow burn #slow burn fic #fluff fic #bts fanfic #bts #indian oc #red thread fics

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renjiokumura · 4 years ago

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Love?

Min Yoongi x Plus size reader

Disclaimer: Anything I write is purely fiction.

Tags: Angst, Established Relationship, and cursing.

Summary: Everyone has there limits and Y/N just found Yoongi’s.

A/N: I write the reader pretty undescriptive. I tend to use female pronouns, so you’ll probably have to specifically ask me for something with male pronouns or gender neutral. But the reader can be any race you are and be related to the characters through adoption or whatever helps you move the story along. I want everyone to feel like they can read my writing.

The lights were flashing, blood was bumping, and the noises were deafening. There was a thin layer of sweat coating your body, and mixed with the hot lights shining upon you, you glowed. With poise, precision, and wild abandon, you hit every dance move and wreaked the stage. You commanded the stage with your wild energy and your fans loved it. You never thought in a million years you would be preforming as a musical artist, let a lone at MAMA as the opening act. But here you were rapping and singing your songs for your fans. Your new style was a diamond in the rough theme, with flashy accents here, grungy tones there, and punk black filling everywhere else. You are probably wondering how you got here, well it all started a little less than a year ago.

It had been two years into your relationship and on your end, it seemed like everything was going wonderfully in it, but you were very wrong.

You were a sweet doting girlfriend. Ever since you were a child you loved to care and help people as much as you could. That was sweet and all, but some people found that overbearing, that’s why you didn’t have too many friends growing up. You got better at reining it in enough to get a friend, but you still had your moments.

“Y/N, you know he’s busy, so give him some space. The boys will be there for him if something happens so calm down.” Your friend sighed, exasperated with you for staring at your phone instead of enjoying each other’s presence at your favorite café.

“I know, I know. But I still get worried and he hasn’t texted back for about a day and the longest he has ever not responded was an hour.” You looked up at you friend with pleading eyes, “He’s been doing this for a while now and I don’t know why.”

F/N abruptly stood up and snatched your phone out of your hand. “I’m doing this for your own good.” You were staring at her in complete shook as she sped walked out of the café.

“WAIT!” you said running after her. When you finally caught up with her you confronted her actions. “Why did you steal my phone and where are we going?” you asked out of breath.

She smirked looking at you, “Somewhere you can relax,” and looked forwards again walking with a purpose.

Back at the BTS dorm there was tension flowing rampantly. Yoongi had turned his phone off yesterday and it has been off since then. He was already irritated from the soon approaching comeback, and it would only get worst if he turned his phone back on.

It was a known fact that Yoongi was a patient, caring, and overall nice person. Don’t get me wrong, he did have a cold aura but underneath that was a very nice man. But everyone had their limits, and Yoongi was getting close to his.

He genuinely loved his girlfriend and was nothing but grateful of her caring and supporting nature, but it was driving him crazy at the moment.

Currently he was stressing over finishing the last track of their new album, when there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” he said not caring who it was.

Jimin poked his head in the door cautiously knowing that his hyung was in no mood for any unnecessary distractions. “Hyung,” he called out nervously, “There has been a change in the schedule today and they need us right now at the dance studio.”

The growl that came from the rapper after did not ease the unfortunate messenger of the bad news from his nervousness. Taking a few calming breaths Yoongi respond to Jimin.

“Ok. Tell them I’ll be ready in 10 minutes, okay?” he said tiredly to his dongsaeng.

Jimin gave him a faint smile and nod then left as quietly as he came.

Thinking this would be a good way to let out some tension he got ready to go to the dance studio, unfortunately it was everything but. On the drive to the studio, he was under the impression that they would make slight adjustments to the dance routines. Instead, when the boys arrived at the dance studio they found out that the choreographer changed about half of the whole dance.

And that isn’t even the worst of it. Yoongi was messing up almost all of the new moves, which resulted in them staying longer. It wasn’t until 4 hours later that the new dance was perfected. The boys left the dance studio at about 9:30 PM and they were exhausted, more stressed then before they got there, and starving. On the drive home some of them took a nap and some were too restless to even let their consciousness slip away and obviously Yoongi was one not taking a nap.

As the boys were making their way back, you were finishing up getting food for the guys, knowing they aren’t taking care of themselves because of the comeback. Not to long ago, you and F/N split ways after leaving a cool new karaoke place you had been dying to go to. On the short walk to the dorms, you were bubbling with excitement to see the boys, especially your boyfriend.

You truly did love him. He was your rock and you were his marshmallow. He made you feel so good about yourself when you were down about your weight and you made sure to be there for him when he needed some help. You guys just worked so well together.

The boys got back to the dorms a few minutes before you, and that was enough time for the storm to start and wreak havoc. As the boys left the car slightly dazed and confused, Yoongi left his phone in the car, but Jungkook noticed and got it.

“Yoongi-hyung,” he called as he walked in the house last.

Yoongi turned around wondering what the maknae wanted but froze a little seeing the younger boy turning on his phone.

“Here you know our higher ups don’t like us having our phones off. Be careful.” He playfully scolded with his bunny smile not knowing what he had truly done.

As soon as the phone was in Suga’s hand, it started blowing up with multiple texts, missed calls, and voicemail notifications. And that is when Min Yoongi finally reached his limit. Shouting curses, he threw his phone lucky missing any of the members and or walls in his anger driven actions.

“I’m sick and fucking tired of her bullshit!” he was pacing at this point wanting to break something but trying to channel his anger in to just shouting. All the other boys were a little terrified at the out burst and didn’t know what to do or what it was about.

“Fuck!” he was stopped facing the boys and unaware of the person who snuck in after Jungkook.

“I mean fucking hell! I can’t do anything without her worrying me with her worrying about me for 5 secs. She’s over bearing, overly sensitive, and just plain annoying. She has been blowing up my phone with constant texts and I’m reaching my wits end with Y/N.” He finally finished his anger fueled confession, not knowing that the last person he wanted to hear it heard every word.

You couldn’t believe you ears. During his whole outburst, you were in the kitchen. You were about to fix him a plate of food from the dinner you had brought him and the boys but were stopped by the loud volume of his voice. You knew you could be a little much and you came to terms with that even tried to fix it but hearing that the love of your life couldn’t even handle you really hurt.

Your body was visibly shaking with all the emotions running through you, but the most overpowering emotion was heartbreak. Silent tears fell from your eyes and they wouldn’t stop coming. Amazingly you were able to quietly make your way out of the house without being notice. As soon as you were out in the cold with only yourself and your thoughts, you cried hysterically and ran all the way home, running like you never have before.

Meanwhile back at the dorm, Taehyung had caught a waft, during Yoongi’s explosion of angry words, of delicious food. When Yoongi had settled down a little, the vocalist went to find out what the source of the smell was and left towards the kitchen. With Tae’s sudden movement, everyone broke from their stunned states noticing the smell of food and were soon following in behind him, even Yoongi.

Upon arriving to the kitchen, the boys found a big feast packed in multiple containers filled with their favorite foods. They all were confused on where it had come from. On closer inspection they noticed a uncomplete plate filled with some of Yoongi’s favorite foods and all came to the same realization.

“Fuck,” the oldest rapper cursed under his breath. Before anyone could make a move, in the silence, a single text notification was heard that made Yoongi’s blood run cold. Slowly grabbing his phone like it would bite him if he touched it. He unlocked it and saw the last text he would get from her for a long time.

My Love: Enjoy the food. I hope you guys have an amazing comeback. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a bother. I promise I won’t anymore.

A/N: I might add more to this but I’m not sure. I just want to get some of my WIPs out there.

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lululawrence · 3 years ago

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Wordplay 5.0 Reflections

I dunno what else to call it lmao it doesn't sound right to call this a meme, but whatever it is, here we are! lol @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed came up with these questions after @wordplayfics wrapped up last year and I love them so i'm gonna use them for this year as well.

I'm going to start out with listing the prompts and linking the fics i wrote for each one for everyone's reference, though I'll be linking them again through the answers as well. I'm also putting all the questions and answers beneath a read more because, as usual, I rambled lmao Alright! Here we go!

Struggle: I Said It Wrong, But I Meant It Right Reduce: I Love This Feeling (But I Hate This Part) Divide: He Carries The Key Rise: Thou, Sun, Art Half As Happy Sketch: I Heard You Talking

How did you come up with your ideas for the fics? Can you take us through your process after first receiving the prompt?

I don't know that I have a set way I come up with my fic ideas for Wordplay. It all depends on the prompt and what fic ideas I've got on my "to write list" that might fit that prompt. If nothing on my to write list fits or can be tweaked for a prompt, then I just go through my prompts tag until something strikes me for it, or I just ruminate on the different ways the word can be used and see if something comes up.

So, when I did the random word generator for the first prompt and "struggle" was the word that came up, I immediately thought of "struggle bus". lolllll and when I went looking through my to write list, I saw the girl Payneshaw fic I wanted to write and I was like omgggggg Nick ABSOLUTELY is riding the struggle bus the ENTIRE FUCKING TIME and I knew that was my fic for the week. lmaoooo and there you have it.

What is your favorite fic you wrote for Wordplay this year?

oooohhhh this one is HARD AND MEAN lmaoooo i forgot this was a question asked. okay legitimately i cannot choose a favorite because i'm actually stupidly proud and happy with all of the fics i wrote this year.

If you’ve participated in previous years of Wordplay, what has been your favorite prompt from all years you participated in?

WELP. as the creator of this challenge, i've participated in all 5 years which means there've been 25 prompts i've written. lolllll and honestly i think my favorite prompt is STILL from the first year. it was "bloodsucker". like, how great of a prompt is that???

What was the shortest fic you wrote this year? The longest?

the shortest one this year was... I Said It Wrong, But I Meant It Right at 4381 words.

the longest one was... I Heard You Talking at 10580 words.

What fic of yours surprised you?

i think all of them surprised me in some way. that's part of the joy of writing fics, isn't it? lollll but i think the one that surprised me the most was Thou, Sun, Art Half As Happy. it was a last minute change (i'll elaborate in the answer to the next question haha) and it was a VERY different direction than i had planned. it was all based off of a photo i saw on tumblr, and there was no prompt with the photo. i got to just take in the basic idea of the sticker being placed on a bridge overlooking the city and what might make that spot a good kissing spot.

now, as an ace who doesn't actually ENJOY kissing, i... didn't think about the fact that i would be writing a lot of it. lollll i actually have a super hard time writing kisses and trying to make them varied while also relaying the emotional intimacy of the moment, and then add on top of that the fact that once i started writing the fic, both harry and louis let me know pretty much as soon as words started getting written that they were both genderqueer and that worked differently for each of them, so harry would use they/them pronouns and louis would use he/him still, it just made things more interesting. and the way the fic developed??? like, i had a very vague idea of what would happen in the fic. so the way it actually came about all surprised me.

long answer short, from the very start, this fic surprised me and i was just along for the ride. it was a BLAST and i sure do love it, even if it does have the second lowest hits of all the fics i wrote this year haha

Were there any prompts you struggled to find an idea for?

STRUGGLED HAHAHA sorry. just funny since struggle was a prompt this year. ANYWAY. the prompt i had the hardest time with was defo rise. i've had this fic idea ever since greg james tweeted with shawn mendes months ago about how shawn basically forgot his interview with greg on the breakfast show, so greg had to last minute wing a LOT OF AIR TIME AND SHOW CONTENT and he did a great job, but it brought about some funny content... anyway. that made me wanna write a triad a/b/o fic where greg is louis and harry's beta. rise was going to be used in a lot of different ways through the fic, as well. because breakfast show requires greg to rise from bed early, he gets a rise out of harry and louis with his behavior and overt flirtations with shawn, they have to rise above their jealousy, etc etc etc. i was VERY EXCITED.

except i only had three days i was able to write every week this summer, and those were really really difficult to get. if i wanted to write on tuesday or thursday, i was often curling up with my laptop in a dark room with some caffeine and candles burning to soothe me after the insanity that is my life atm, and write for as long as i could before my brain stopped functioning, which was often only around 30 min. but see, that particularly week was the worst part of my son's 18 month sleep regression, which meant instead of him sleeping and letting me write, i was driving him around or trying to rock him back to sleep or letting him play in an attempt to tire him out etc etc etc and by friday morning i had to admit to myself there was no way i could write that a/b/o fic in my one guaranteed evening to write every week (saturday, btw). so i was suddenly left with around 36 hours to find a new fic idea and develop it enough to be able to write it in one evening.

as i said in the answer to the first question, i usually go to my prompts tag to see what might inspire me with this prompt word in mind, but for this one that wasn't the first place i went. i tried looking at more definitions even though i'd done that earlier and nothing was inspiring me. so i then spoke to several friends and was still having a hard time finding any ideas that felt like something i would enjoy writing and could do so quickly.

by saturday morning, knowing i had less than 12 hours to figure out what i was writing so i could actually WRITE IT in only like 2-3 hours of writing time, i finally sat down and scrolled through my prompts tag. once i did, i saw the photo for the "good kissing spot", and i immediately thought of sunrise. so i ran with it. but i wanted to make it stylinshaw, so how would i work that in, etc etc etc. it was just very fast and very difficult trying to figure out how i would structure it so it could be a fun meet cute kind of fic, but also work into them actually building a meaningful connection etc and... well. it was a lot. haha so yeah, it was just a hard time overall that week, but i'm super proud of it in the end.

Were there any prompts you had an idea for but ended up writing something different? If so, what made you choose to change what you wrote? Do you think you’ll ever write your original idea at a later date?

HA okay well i already answered most of this above, but for the last part of this question, yes i will absolutely write my original idea at a later date. the whole reason i decided not to do it wasn't because i couldn't turn it into a fic that could be written in that one writing session, but because i had hopes for what that fic would be, and i didn't want to shorten and condense it enough to do that. i didn't want to have to lessen the dreams i have for that fic in my head, so i decided i would just put it back on my to write list and save it for later. who knows when, but that fic will absolutely get written.

What do you think was the most difficult as well as the easiest part about the Wordplay Challenge?

most difficult was 100% finding the time to write. that was insanely hard for me all summer, but by the time wordplay was going, things at home had ramped up to being very overwhelming regarding the demands on me and my time, and what i had been doing to carve out some time for myself and writing wasn't working anymore, so i had to adjust even more with the understanding that i was working on a really strict timeline too. so yeah. just finding the time was absolutely the hardest part for me.

easiest part was the actual writing. these fics really flowed from me, outside of the pack fic, that one was actually pretty difficult to make sure i was getting the dynamics exactly the way i wanted to have them turn out, but even with that aspect, it still was like it flowed from me most of the time. these fics really just took over and i was along for the ride. it was a blast.

If you participate again next year, is there anything you’ll do differently? If so, what?

lmao well assuming people still want wordplay to happen again, i'll run it again and very likely will take part. so... with the difficulty i had in finding any time to do anything this summer, i was actually ridiculously stressed when it came to the writing part, but also the modding aspect of it. so i am not sure that i'll run it during the summer again next year. i might have it go during the early fall once school is back in session so i at least have only one child at home instead of three to battle lol so that's one thing i'll hopefully be doing differently.

as for the writing aspect, i don't think so actually. i've done 5 years of this, and i'm having fun with it. haha if i ever find a fic idea i think could work for it, i would consider doing a series for it next year, but it all depends on if there's something i'd like to write that could work for that kind of set up with this challenge.

if you made it this far, thank you for reading!!! xxx

#wordplay 5.0 #writing stuff #my fics #mine

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art-res · 4 years ago

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Focusing Tips for Artists with ADHD

Quick Sidetrack: I meant to write this months ago per a specific request on our Discord, but I was grinding away at the MCAT. I took it, so it’s over now thank goodness.

Anyways, I missed you guys!

Disclaimer: I am not a mental health professional, just an artist hoping to give tips to people and answer questions to the best of my ability. Please go see a professional if you have any health concerns. I also have not been diagnosed with ADHD, but I feel like I can be pretty distractible. Please take this advice with a grain of salt, but I hope it helps somebody!

Here are ways I think might help you focus, from personal experience n=1.

Before you want to draw, set up your stuff

You might want to do this the night before, even. This is kinda similar to how if you want to stay on track with exercise, lay out your clothes to prime your brain psychologically.

Hungry? Thirsty? Have to go the bathroom?

Take care of that before you settle down to draw because that can kind of hamper your flow state once you get into it. I always feel better when I have had my coffee and am not constantly thinking about food.

Hide your phone, block the internet

If you need to, put your phone in another room so you aren’t even tempted to look at it. Out of sight can help it become out of mind too.

You may also be interested in getting an extension for blocking distracting websites. There’s many options for different platforms. For mac: https://selfcontrolapp.com and this comes up for windows: https://focusme.com.

Set a timer for 20 mins and just go, then take a 5 min break

Sometimes the hardest part is just starting, honestly. The blank page is really intimidating. The pomodoro technique has helped me a lot and I recommend it because it makes the barrier to start seem less steep.

Just promise yourself like 20 mins of focus, and then you get a break.

Once you start feeling focused, you can extend the focus times to 25 min - 40 min or whatever feels comfortable. If you get extra zen out of ten, you might not even need a timer.

Try white noise or music, depending on your preferences/mood/vibe

Sometimes I get distracted listening to lyrics, but other times that’s kind of what I need to feel inspired. Depending on the day, I will put on spotify/youtube and then other days I will straight up listen to white noise mixed with rain on https://mynoise.net.

Warm up with a piece of scratch paper

Sometimes I feel distracted when I feel like I can’t start. If it helps, try getting a sketchbook dedicated to very rough stuff to warm up, or simply printer paper. That might help ease you in so you won’t want to stop right away if you’re feeling a little rusty.

Don’t feel bad for taking breaks

Art can be mentally exhausting as it can be fun and relaxing. If I try to focus for too long, it doesn’t work out. I recommend taking breaks when you need to, because sometimes that actually helps your long term focus for the day and reduces your chances of being burnt out.

Thanks for reading! If this post helped, please consider reblogging it or sharing it with your friends! ❤️

More useful articles and resources / support Art-Res | my art tumblr | Idea Generator | Check out the Art-Res Anatomy Ebook!

#focus #productivity #art tips #artists on tumblr #art-res

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i-need-entertainment · 4 years ago

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Sweet Home Hyogo: Chapter 9 I’m sorry

This is the last chapter! Thank you so much for reading!!

Chapter 8-END

“Y/N L/N GET YER BUTT OUTTA BED!” You shot up from your bed and narrowly avoided falling out of it. “Mom…it is 5:30 in.the.morning. The wedding isn’t until 1:00 pm. What are you doing?!?!” Your mom rolled her eyes, “Time is irrelevant on your wedding day, get up it’s late enough as it is!” Your bedroom door re-opened to reveal a very tired looking Naoi and a ‘happy’ looking Yumie, who had both offered to help you get ready for the big day. “Get outta bed lazy bones, I gotta be up, you gotta be up.”

Naoi said as she took a seat on the vanity stool. You rolled your eyes but nonetheless got out of bed. That morning was spent getting ready for the big day, well Akaashi’s big day. You had kinda done this sorta thing before. BUT it was still exciting of course! You were getting to marry the man you loved! So why did it feel so…off? Something felt so out of place…so…wrong. “Y/n, look up sweet heart, I can’t do yer mascara with ya lookin’ down like that.” Naoi *gently* held your face, you looked up. “What’cha thinkin’ about?”

You sighed, “Nothing…just nervous.” She hummed before finishing your mascara. “Liar.” You glared at her, “I’m not-“ “I think yer forgetting I had a wedding once too, not ta mention I’ve been married for a little longer than you have. I know what nervousness looks like…This ain’t it.” You sighed as you looked down. “I just…I don’t know. I love Keiji, I love him so much…” “But, you also love Shinsuke, is that right?” You looked down. “I mean- I don’t know, I think a part of me will always love him, but there’s just that part of me that won’t shut up. No, forget it. I’m doing this. I deserve to be happy. This, this is what will make me happy.”

Naoi just nodded her head and sighed. “Alright then…well yer make ups done, let’s get ya dressed.” 30 minutes….30 minutes until Y/n Kita becomes Y/n Akaashi…..29 minutes….29 ½ minutes…”Y/n, dear are you alright?” You’re gaze is broken from the clock you’ve been staring at to look at your soon-to-be-ex-mother-in-law standing in front of you, comfortingly rubbing your back. You let out a shakey sigh. “Yeah Granny…just nervous…” She smiled and pulled you in for a hug, she always gave the best hugs. “…Am I doing the right thing, Granny….?”

You pulled away and she began to carefully wipe the tears that had gathered in your eyes. “Only you can determine that, dear. Are you…?” You put on a smile and nodded. “Oi! Don’t you go messin’ with yer make up now! I spent w a y too much time on it!!” You laughed as you shook your head, feeling a little better with Naoi’s outburst. 5 minutes…5 minutes until you married Akaashi Keiji…4 minutes…”Y/n honey, it’s time ta go.”

You looked at your dad and let out a shaky sigh. Giving him a firm nod and a smile, you hooked your arm around his elbow. You two walked out of the building and outside, beginning your start down the petal covered aisle. Looking up, your eyes met Akaashi’s gray blue ones, an adorable smile on his face. 2 minutes….2 ½ min-“WAAAAAIIIIITTTTTT!!!!”

You and your dad spun around, seeing a middle aged man running towards you, barely escaping the clutches of the twins who had tried to prevent him from ruining your big day. He stopped in front of you, panting. He recollected himself and smoothed out his suit. You knew this man, he was the lawyer you had hired for your divorce, but why was he-“I’m sorry for the interruption. But, you can’t marry this man..” He continued to try and catch his breath. “Excuse me?”

He looked up, straightened his glasses and took the yellow folder out from the briefcase he had been carrying. While this was happening, your soon-to-be-wretch-of-a-mother-in-all came stomping down the aisle, her son not too far behind her. “What is going on here?” You cringed at the voice she had used. Ignoring the older woman, the man turned back to you. “Ms. L/n..You can’t marry this man..Because you never got divorced.” Your eyes widened in shock. Akaashi came up beside you.

“But, she signed the papers, I thought this was all finalized? Both Y/n and Kita signed them. We took them into the office on Tuesday…” The lawyer looked to Akaashi with sympathy before turning his gaze back to Y/n, shaking his head. “It’s true, Kita signed the papers but,” He opened the folder, showcasing the dreaded paper. “If you’d just look here..” Sure enough, the top line had the name ‘Shinsuke Kita’ signed in perfect writing, while the second line was left blank. “Don’t be worried, if you sign it, you can consider it finalized, and get back to your wedding.”

You and Akaashi started looking around asking people for a pen. Then, someone came forward…it was Yumie. The older woman hands it to her with a sad smile, the one that’s been haunting Y/n for days. She turns back around towards the lawyer and her fiancé. With a shaking hand she brings her pen to the paper. She get’s through one letter, when it’s like her life flashes before her eyes. Not her whole life, but the life she’s had with Kita. Every laugh, every tear, every embrace, every moment, both good and bad were there. And as she dropped the pen and turned to Akaashi with tear

s in her eyes, she knew…she couldn’t sign the papers. The papers she had been trying to get signed for 5 whole years right there in front of her, with her ex-well not ex husband’s signature right there and a wonderful man right here. And yet, she could not sign them. “Keiji…I-I….I…can’t…I’m so sor-“ He cut her off, he took her hands in his, and looked her in the eyes. “Y/n. I need you to tell me this, and don’t lie to me. Even if It hurts, and man, I know it’s going to. But, I need to know the truth,” His tongue darted out to wet his lips, as his gaze fell to his shaking hands as they held yours.

“Do you want to get married?” You felt sick. Because you knew the answer. “Of course she wants to get married! Now both of you get up there and get married already! I did not pay all that money for-“ “Mom, will you please shut up?” The whole crowd gasped, some in amusement and some in shock. Atsumu and Osamu muffled their laughs of course. Akaashi removed the scowl from his face and replaced it with a soft one, turning his face back towards his fiancée. “Y/n, just tell me the truth…” Y/n looked down.

“I’m so sorry Keiji…you deserve the best, but, I just don’t think this is right…for either of us…” Akaashi sadly smiled as he pulled Y/n into a hug, “Don’t be. Sometimes things just don’t work out. I am glad you decided this before we got married, that would’ve been awkward.” You laughed despite the tears flowing down your cheeks. “I know you want to go see him Y/n…I’ll handle the ‘monster’, go to Kita. Go be happy.” You pulled away a bit to look at him. “But what about you…will you be okay? I want you to be happy too…”

Akaashi smiled, “I will be, might need some time, but I’ll get there. Regardless, don’t let me stop you from being happy. Go.” You gave him a final kiss on the cheek. “Thank you…Goodbye Keiji.” He gave you one last smile, “Goodbye Y/n.” With that, you picked up the hem of your dress and…ran. “HUH?! Son, what do you think you’re doing?! Stop her at once!” Akaashi rolled his eyes before looking back to his mother. “What any decent person would do, not like you’d recognize decency if it smacked you in the face.”

It was her turn to gasp. “Listen young man-“ “No mom, you listen. For my entire life you’ve done nothing but criticize me and I’m sick of it. This is my life, I have the freedom to decide what to do with it. Now go home.” With that, Akaashi left with his head held high. He was hurting, a lot, but he’d get better…someday. Back to you; you who was currently running through the streets of your hometown.

“Y/n!!” You stopped for a moment, turning around to see “Suna? What are you-“ “Doesn’t matter, hop in! The twins told me everything, I’m here to take you to Kita!” Without any hesitation you hopped into the car, buckling your seatbelt (always wear a seatbelt kids). He drove off, heading in the direction of the rice fields Kita worked in. “Listen…I ran into Akaashi when he first came. I told him where to find you, I didn’t mean anything bad by it and I’m sorry if things got messy-“ You waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, things happen for a reason…Plus, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be on my way to Kita if you hadn’t done that, I should actually thank you.”

Suna breathed out a sigh of relief, nodding his head. The car ride lasted for about another four or so minutes when you saw him. “Suna stop the car!” He pulled over and unlocked the door, shouting a ‘good luck!’ before he drove off. You ditched your heels and picked up your dress, running towards him.

“SSSHHHIIINNSUUKEEEE!!!!!”

He looked up to see you!?!?! “Y/n?! What are ya doin’ here?!? I signed the papers?” Y/n made it to where he was, white dress no longer crisp white, hair skewed and makeup messed up. She laughed as she tried to recatch her breath. “I didn’t…I…I couldn’t….Shinsuke…” Y/n looked into his eyes, “Because….because I’ve always been in love with you. I always will be, so, if you’ll give me another chance, I want to make things right. To fix them. And-and I know you signed the papers, so if you really don’t want to be married, i-ill understand.“

He lunged towards you and pulled you to him, strong arms wrapping around you and holding you close, your own arms coming tightly around him. “..I never stopped loving you, Y/n. I just signed them ‘cause I wanted you to be happy…and I didn’t think I could do that…” You pulled away a tad bit to look him in the eyes, your hands coming up to delicately cup his face. “You’ve always made me happy…when I left, I was mad, I was hurt…I wasn’t thinking. Apparently I wasn’t thinking for 5 years. Even during that time I never stopped loving you…”

You both laughed as you came to rest your foreheads together. “I’m really sorry Shin…I made things much harder than they had to be, didn’t I?” He chuckled, “Yeah, you did. I gotta say, yer determination is admirable. Woulda been better if ya hadn’t spent it tryin’ to divorce me.” You let out a loud laugh as you dropped your head to his shoulder. “…can we..try again…?” Kita nodded, picking your head up to hold your face gently within his hands. “course we can…I love you Y/n..” You felt tears well up in your eyes (Somewhere far away, Naoi cries over the mascara) “I love you too Shinsuke.” Hearing that, he leaned down and kissed you. Maybe it wasn’t as romantic in the movies, but to Y/n and Kita, it was just perfect.

*Four months AFTER Y/n and Kita are “re-married” since they never divorced*

It’s been four months since the two have re-united, and life is going pretty darn well for the two. For starters, they were expecting their first child, a boy as they had learned. Kita had continued to grow his business, continuing to build his company and name. And Y/n had continued with her job, making a name for herself in Tokyo, all the way from Hyogo. It wasn’t easy, and they know they’ll face more hardships, but they know they can handle anything the world throws at them. After all, they are Home Sweet Home. In Home Sweet Hyogo.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! This was so much fun to write!! Thank you for all of the support, I hope every one of you is having a good day! Stay safe! Have a good night/day! Bye!

#kita x reader #akaashi x reader #kita x y/n #akaashi x y/n #kita angst #akaashi angst #y/n #fluff #angst #crack #Haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyuufanfiction #love triangle #inarizaki #osamu miya #atsumu miya #suna rintaro

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touchmycoat · 4 years ago

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I LOVE YOUR PORN AU!!!!! LIKE SO MUCH - and i'm just. if you don't mind me asking, how - the way you flesh out the characters, their motivations, and feelings in every scene in such an eloquent way, and just little things here and there, a habit or an activity that adds dimension to who they are, and - your prose is wonderful. you achieve this addictive, engrossing narrative space that readers just absolutely melt into, and i have to ask - how did you develop your writing style? 1/2

what books did you read that formatively shaped the way you write? or you know, what did you do to improve your writing? i'm so in awe of how you world-built and established the porn au - like lqg & hc being national taolu champions?? how do you come up with that stuff? i cannot comprehend the amount of research and effort that must've gone into porn au, and i'm just so deeply thankful that you decided to share that with us. i apologize if i'm coming on too strong, but wow. thank you 2/2

oh my god please don't apologize, when i saw your ask i rolled on the floor giggling hysterically for a solid 15 min, bless your heart

part of the answer to your question—i've taken like, 8 years' worth of creative writing classes/workshops! there was also a transnational literary component to my degree so whenever possible, i took literature classes fksjdfksd so whatever you see and like is definitely the result of a lot of work. My writing from not even 10 years ago but like, 5? horrid, ridiculous, wild, cringe. The Porn AU itself is the second draft of a MUCH more lackluster piece.

about my writing style. gosh, you really know how to make a writer blush. "I like your writing style" is literally an instant kill LMFAO okay okay, the useful answer: my primary criteria for choosing what to write is, don't be obvious, be interesting. Fiction tells us to show, not tell, right? Poetry is about concretizing the abstract. Screenwriting says cut all useless lines. A lot of writing rules and advice—never start with the weather, avoid detailed descriptions of the characters, don't use adverbs, etc.—are all really about this exact sentiment.

I once took a seminar on writing for horror movies. The golden rule of the horror genre is Never Show the Monster, because whatever the audience is imagining is always going to be scarier than what you actually show them. There are obviously exceptions to this (to all writing rules), but in my mind, it's all the same principle.

LONG answer under the cut

So you start with building a scene. I approach it like essay-writing—I state my thesis for the motivations/main propulsion of the plot. "In this scene, LQG and SY are motivated to save Cang Qiong's porn production, so they have sex on camera." Then you build the sub-motivations: "LQG is also doing this because he's pining after SY."

I learned this "thesis-writing" from theater, specifically from writing 10-min plays. Theater is all about characters being driven by their wants and needs, and the reason I say 10-min plays in particular is because longer forms of writing will give you more leeway, but in 10-min, you pretty much need your character motivations established from their very first line. That's why you need that very clear thesis for yourself—if you don't even know what the character wants from the get-go, then you can't establish who they are, what they want, and where they're going to go in a dynamic and interesting way.

So this thesis drives EVERYTHING that happens in your scene, just like an actual thesis for an essay, just like topic sentences for your paragraphs. Once I do this, I have the emotional direction & narrative scope of how much this scene will cover, I have a sense of where it begins and ends. "Begin with the dynamics of their sex. LQG starts showing signs of his feelings. Reveal LQG backstory for exactly what those feelings are and why he isn't telling SY. The rest of the scene implies that LQG's feelings may not be so unrequited, but also sets up the fundamental problem at the heart of the whole fic—SY's inability to comprehend his own feelings." This is kind of my new thesis now. They're having sex; LQG pines; SY doesn't know he himself is pining.

Now it's time to manifest. This is the "storytelling" part, and the hardest lmfao.

Personally, my approach is largely shaped by my very cool screenwriting teacher, who hammered into us: don't fucking waste lines. The Golden Rule of screenwriting is that every line should reveal something new. I found my old writing kind of repetitive, especially on the emotional front, so this is kind of my editing mantra now—is this line either propelling the story or revealing character? If it's revealing character, is it a revelation that has to happen right now, or is it slowing the momentum of the scene?

But these aren't rhetorical questions! "Momentum" doesn't just mean tumble forward as fast as you can, it also means taking the time to draw the bowstring back further, so your next move has even more propulsion. That's why you get the little "LQG has been in love with SY..." cut scene in the middle of the fucking (at least, that's my reasoning for putting it there). Every line has to bring a fresh revelation that "proves" your thesis further.

That brings me to the details. You said you like the details I inject into the world-building, and honestly that's so gratifying to hear, because that means I'm successfully manifesting my intentions, y'know? "Every line has to bring new info" kind of sounds like a tall order, but the most effective way I've seen it done in books and onstage/onscreen is with these hyper-specific details. If you're writing a scene in which someone feels dirty, never have them just say that—have them say they want to take a shower. Show them running out of bleach again as they scrub down the stall after they wash. Begin the scene like "Steve always washes his throat first now." Then pack the scene with even more revelatory details: "Soap in hand, he heard the pipes above his head groan for a half note on adagio, and readied himself for the blast of icy water that always followed." Shitty shower, probably not rich, is likely a classical musician.

By the same token, I want to build LQG's character. The "Liu Qingge has been in love with Shen Yuan" section is the first insight we get into his background and perspective, right, so: I need to establish LQG's emotional context for filming this scene -> I can characterize him as a nut for martial arts in the same stroke -> so this takes place at a gym, beating up sandbags is a classic way of showing manly emotional distress -> so give me more details on this gym -> Puqi Gym, XL the martial god is obviously the owner -> how do I have XL & LQG a relationship beyond gym owner & client? They spar together -> I want XL & HC's position in this AU to mirror their god/ghost king statuses in TGCF canon -> how can I concretize their fighting prowesses in real-world details? -> they're martial arts champions -> what's an actual competitive martial art form that involves weaponry? -> wushu -> wikipedia Wushu, find taolu weapons sparring

(I just realized that in my songxiao daycare AU, Hualian are Olympic gold medalists by the same narrative logic laksjdnflaksjdnflsd)

So, that's the flow of logic behind my world-building lmao. It's all in the details. Leverage is one of my all-time favorite TV shows and the way they build their stories is super inspiring. If their thesis is "the rich and powerful take what they want, we steal it back for you," they manifest it in the most specific and concrete narratives: mine workers who like the work but are fighting for workplace safety vs. the money-grubbing mine owner who will blow up their livelihoods if it means a bigger payday; the little girl from Iraq with refugee status forced to be an accomplice to antique smuggling vs. international smuggler with a fetish for British royalty.

Last pieces of writing advice I've gotten: pay attention to the real world. A writing exercise we did was just sit in a public spot and make concrete observations on our surroundings. There are stories in everything!!! I learned to observe things like weird holes in the concrete (earthquake? drilling accident? bullet mark?), odd patches of moss or bird shit (look overheard: it's an AC unit dripping water for the former and nesting swallows for the latter), ladies in flipflops walking alongside ladies in high heels (excited mother walking her antsy daughter to the bus for the daughter's first job interview—the daughter's shirt collar is unfashionable and she's taking the bus, so there's a good chance the shoes were passed down, maybe from an office lady aunt. Maybe she's even overdressed for the interview, so will her outfit be an unintended source of tension once she gets to the interview? Is it a group interview, to make the comparison more stark?).

Also, write what you know. You know why SY is a video editor in porn AU? Because I'm a video editor. One of my more popular MDZS fics is set in a plant shop 'cause I worked in a plant shop. SL was First AD in Bachelor!AU 'cause I was First AD on a set once. Concrete details like the editing software having a split-screen, always answering questions about how often to water plants, and being up until 3AM editing call-sheets are the ones that will fully immerse your readers.

And if you can't do the actual things, just watch someone who is, listen to them talk, pick up lingo, and fake it. I watched like a 15-min vox video on fencing for the fencing!AU and a 45-min music theory video on the hospital pianist!AU (also I started learning piano sklfjnlsdjlfkjsd). Of course, I just finished reading a wangxian fic that had me going, "holy fucking shit, the author is literally getting their masters in a music program" so my 45-min youtube video ain't shit, but if you just need a little bit of character establishment, then it's enough to do the trick.

Anyways, tl;dr. Find the details, find the tension. Never tell outright what the tension is supposed to be, manifest it instead. Make the manifestation as interesting as possible, and if it's meant to be funny, make it funnier.

Sorry this turned into a fucking lecture lskjnflskdjnflskd but last thing, someone asked me before if I had formative authors, and this was the list I wrote at the time:

Angels in America (play) by Tony Kushner

The God of Small Things (novel) by Arundhati Roy

The Penelopiad (novel) by Margaret Atwood

“Litany in Which Certain Things are Crossed Out” (poem) by Richard Siken

Night Sky with Exit Wounds (poetry) by Ocean Vuong

Giovanni’s Room (novel) by James Baldwin (and then Go Tell it on the Mountain and then his essays)

Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger

And, ooh, now that I have this list I think I can even roughly sort it as such: Kushner, Atwood, Siken, and Salinger I really latched onto for their dialogue and very present narrator voice—same is true for Go Tell it on the Mountain. Roy, Vuong, and Giovanni’s Room, I think, are texts more representative of the kind of saturated figurative language I like, and emulate. Of course they all do imagery and voice and overall structure amazingly, but that’s the rough dividing line I’d draw.

But yeah James Baldwin is my fucking hero.

#long post #about me #writing #jesus sorry i spent way too long on this laksjdnflaskjdnflaskjndflas #but anyways i'm super grateful you gave me the chance to introspect and articulate all this #i'm exceedingly grateful too to all the writing mentors i've gotten to have #personal #these are the principles and rules i've learned and #i still definitely screw the pooch #on them #so you know this is just what's on my mind #this is how i school myself

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meliakim · 3 years ago

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Help From Yoongi-hyung (Pt. 2)

Jimin asks his hyung for more help.

Jimin once again approached the door of Yoongi’s hotel room and knocked. He wasn’t as quick to answer the door this time, but when he did, Jimin noticed headphones around his hyung's neck. “You’re back? How did it go with Min?” Yoongi asked. Jimin shrugged and said, “I guess as good as it could’ve… Hey, what are you up to now?” Yoongi rubbed his eyes, as he had been staring at his computer screen. “I was working on some music,” he answered.

“Good,” Jimin said, gently pushing past his hyung and inviting himself into his room. “I need help writing my song for ‘Love Yourself: Her’ intro,” Jimin said as he sat down on the armchair sitting next to Yoongi’s desk chair. Yoongi chucked and sat back down in his desk chair. “You should be done with that song by now… I’ve already started working on my solo song that’s not even going to be released for another year!” Yoongi said. “I know, but I’ve been struggling with what to write the song about, but I’ve just figured it out,” Jimin replied.

“I want to write the song about Min… or… rather to Min… telling her how I feel about her,” Jimin said, shyly, still not quite used to admitting to someone out loud how he felt about Min. Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “So, a love confession?” he asked. Jimin shrugged and replied, “more or less… I know how passionate Min is about music, and if I could just come up with a song good enough… I think it would be the proper way to finally confess to her.” Yoongi found this to be extremely cute, but he tried to hide his smile.

“You’re the best at composing and writing lyrics, which is why I wanted to come to you for help. I want this to be perfect,” Jimin said sincerely, looking over at his hyung. “Well, if that’s the case, I need to make a better set-up,” he said, turning to his desk. He untangled some wires and unplugged a few things before heading to his suitcase and pulling out a MIDI keyboard, microphone, mini soundboard, and another headphone set. Jimin watched him in amazement as Yoongi gingerly plugged in all his equipment to his laptop.

“Do you have any ideas for lyrics yet?” Yoongi asked as he worked on his travel studio set-up. “I have a few in mind… like ‘the universe has moved for us, our happiness was meant to be,’ er… what else? I guess I should start writing it down,” Jimin said, drawing a blank. “It’s not too cheesy, is it?” he asked, afraid of what Yoongi would think of it. “I think it’s sweet… it makes me think of serendipity… like how everything somehow works together by chance,” Yoongi said as he typed something on his computer.

“How is this? ‘The universe has moved for us without missing a single thing, our happiness was meant to be ‘cause you love me.’l Yoongi quoted from the lyrics he was beginning to write down. “Ohhh, Yoongi-hyung you’re so good!!! Hmm… how would it sound with ‘and I love you’ at the end of that?” Jimin asked. “Well, we haven’t come up with the tune and rhythm yet, so anything is game,” he said, adding Jimin’s suggestion to the end of the line.

“Really, we should start with the tune and flow of the song before we get into more lyrics,” Yoongi suggested. He stared at his MIDI keyboard, then had an idea. “You know… this is the first intro to any of our albums that is done by a vocal line member. I think it would be cool if we emphasized your voice in this song… and maybe add some light beats in the background,” Yoongi suggested. Jimin nodded. “And by emphasizing my voice, hopefully my message to Min will be clear,” he agreed.

Yoongi put on his headset and began messing around on the piano setting of his keyboard, coming up with a melody that he thought would sound good when sung in Jimin’s voice. After a few minutes, he passed Jimin the other headset and played what he had come up with so far. “Yoongi-hyung! You’re so quick in coming up with a melody!” Jimin said, impressed. He listened to it repeatedly, until he got used to the tune, then he began humming to it. “Can you move the key down half a step?” Jimin asked. Yoongi pushed a few buttons on his laptop, changing the key to A♭.

Jimin hummed along to the track again and nodded with a satisfied smile. “That’s better,” he said. Yoongi made a few more notes and then re-recorded a part based on how Jimin sounded with it. “It would sound good if it went high and then back low here,” he explained the one part and the change he made. The pair continued to do this for hours, adjusting each note to fit Jimin’s style, him humming the tune all the while. They finally made it past the tune of the verses and came up with the chorus melody and refrain as well.

“Ooo, what about ‘Just let me love you’? and then there can be kind of an echo like ‘let me love let me love you’?” Jimin suggested when they decided to move back to the lyrics. Yoongi nodded and played the refrain track to test his lyrics out. After hearing Jimin sing to it, he smiled satisfactorily and wrote it down. The pair continued to think of lyrics, writing them down and tweaking them to fit the melody Yoongi wrote, until every part of the song had a lyric to go with it.

“Ok, let’s see how it all sounds back-to-back,” Yoongi said, putting on his headset and handing the mic over to Jimin. Jimin put on the other headset and took the mic from Yoongi, clearing his throat and then nodding to him as if to say, “I’m ready.” Yoongi played the piano melody track in the background, guiding Jimin to sing the tune that they had written. Still not quite used to the lyrics, Jimin messed up a few times, but then was finally able to record the vocal sample for the whole two-minute track.

Jimin took off his headset while Yoongi did some mixing, then he unplugged it and played it out loud for Jimin to hear, without the piano melody in the background. Jimin balled his hands up in fists and shook them like he did when he was excited, grabbing onto Yoongi’s shoulders and squeezing him. “Hyung!!! It sounds so good already!!!” Jimin said as Yoongi tried to wriggle himself out of the tight grip of affection. “We’ll obviously have to record the final in the real studio, but we have a good track to go off of,” Yoongi said.

“Since we have your voice now, I can delete the original piano melody,” Yoongi said, finding the file on his computer. “Wait!!” Jimin said, an idea suddenly popping into his head. “Can you actually re-record the piano, but a little nicer?” he asked. “You don’t think my piano playing was good enough??” Yoongi teased, shaking his head before saying, “no, I really don’t think the song will sound good if your voice is overpowered by the piano.”

“No, I mean, record it as a cover of the song… I think the melody you wrote is so nice, I had the idea of dancing to it, maybe even with Min,” Jimin explained. “Ahh, then she’d also get used to the sound of the song and form a connection with it beforehand,” Yoongi said, now understanding what Jimin wanted a piano version of it for. Jimin smiled and said, “exactly!!” before standing up from his seat and stretching, suddenly aware that there was a bright light trying to sneak into the room behind the curtains.

He walked over towards the window and pulled the curtain back further, only to see the view of the NYC cityscape, with the sun rising in the background. “What time is it?!” he asked, looking down at his phone and seeing it was 5:30 in the morning. “Did we really work all through the night?” he asked, bewildered that it was already morning. Yoongi was either ignoring him or was so engrossed in playing his MIDI keyboard that he didn’t answer Jimin’s questions. When he was done re-recording it, he mixed it with a small amount of percussion and synth in the background to make it sound professional, then he emailed it to Jimin before taking his headphones off.

“I emailed the cover to you,” Yoongi said. “Do you realize what time it is??” Jimin asked, still staring out the window at the sunrise. Yoongi shrugged and said, “I’m used to all-nighters,” before getting up and stretching. Jimin’s phone buzzed at the receiving of Yoongi’s email with the instrumental version of “Intro: Serendipity,” and he was reminded of how much his hyung helped him over the course of the night. While Yoongi was still stretching, Jimin quickly approached him and wrapped his arms around his chest. “Thank you so much for helping me,” was all Jimin was able to say.

Touch-me-not-Yoongi gently slapped Jimin’s arm until he let go of his grip and said, “I didn’t do this for you… I did it for Min!” He halfway lied, as he truly did it for the both of them, but he wasn’t willing to admit he had a soft side towards his younger member that had become like a brother to him. “Either way I am grateful to you, hyung,” Jimin said, bowing out of gratitude to him. Yoongi, starting to feel sentimental at the sight of Jimin in love, just shook his head.

“Yeah, whatever… Will you leave me alone now so I can get some sleep? You’ve stolen enough hours from my life already,” Yoongi complained, though Jimin just continued to smile brightly, beyond satisfied with the work they were able to accomplish together. “Fair enough, I’ll let you get some sleep! I should probably rest too,” Jimin said, starting to realize how tired he was. He headed towards the door and turned to Yoongi once more and bowed. “Thank you again, hyung,” Jimin said one final time before exiting, leaving Yoongi alone in his makeshift studio.

#minminssi #jimin x oc #bts jimin #yoongi #pjm #bts pjm #Jimin fanfic #serendipity

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nonstoplover · 5 years ago

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friend of a friend ~ Calum Hood (song drabble)

my masterlist │ my song drabbles

song i used as inspiration: new hope club ~ friend of a friend

words: 1.9K

approximate reading time: about 10-15 mins

a/n: just a short, fluffy blurb with baby Cal, not exactly my favourite song drabble i've ever written, but that's alright. anything with Calum Hood in it is worth writing. i hope you enjoy reading this, and if you do, please like and/or comment to help a lonely writer feel a little less alone.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Calum could see a person approaching the group he was bluntly keeping an eye on. He turned his head to the side in fear that it was her boyfriend, jaw dropping as soon as his mind placed a name next to the fairly familiar face of the newly arrived.

Jacob. Back in primary school, they were good friends. And now he was seemingly part of the squad gathering next to the small stage as they greeted him so joyously.

Calum watched to see if there was anything hinting at Jacob being romantically involved with the girl, but other than a friendly hug and wide smiles, nothing happened, leaving him much relieved.

"Who are you gawking at so hard?" Mali-Koa chuckled, arriving back to her brother with two glasses of champagne.

"No one," he was quick to tear his eyes off the young girl.

"Sure," his sister frowned but pressed no more.

By the time the wedding ceremony ended, the perfect plan had already formed in his head about how he could accidentally get closer to the gorgeous woman and maybe even introduce himself and possibly start a conversation. He just had to walk up to Jacob to reminisce about the good old times.

He ate the dinner in impatient silence, only short answers left his lips when someone sitting around him asked something. The food was absolutely delicious, but his mind was filled with thoughts trying to bring his plan to perfection to the brim, leaving no space for him to contemplate the savoury chef-d'oeuvre.

He kept on glancing back at her, and multiple times she looked up and caught his eyes, making him swiftly turn away with sparkles running inside his body and a blush appearing in his face.

As soon as music got louder and people swarmed the dancefloor, he was ready to approach the group, but just as he had stood up, a random guy came in the picture and took the girl to dancing. Without her around it was pointless to go up and chat with Jacob so he slumped back down on his chair with a frustrated frown on his face.

"Are you okay?" Mali-Koa leant closer, gently touching his arm.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Then is it okay for me to go dancing?"

Calum looked up slightly confused. If he said there was something wrong, she would've said no to dancing and stayed with him? Love towards his sister warmed up his heart and he faked a perfectly happy smile on his face to reassure her.

"I'll be alright here, just have to relax a bit after eating," he shrugged.

Mali-Koa left the table joyously, leaving him alone to continue successfully pulling his plan off. He was determined to jump at any chance given when the girl sits back at their table, tired from all the dancing.

Calum had to wait for several more songs to end, several guys who got a chance to dance with her before his time had come. By the time she slumped down at her chair, he was halfway there.

"Jacob!" He exclaimed when he was in hearing distance. "Long time no see!"

The mentioned boy turned around, eyes widening at the sight of his old friend. He swiftly jumped up from his seated position, pulling him in a hug.

"Cal! How are you, man?"

"Fine, everything's going right. What's up with you?" Calum tried hard to fight the urge to glance at the girl more often than it was acceptable, but being so close to her made every simple, easy thing ten times harder.

"Everything's the same as it was the last time we met. Slowly but surely I'm lunging forward in the business," Jacob let out a laugh. "Music's really be working out for you, huh? Who would've thought back then?"

Calum laughed with him, nodding as he tried to come up with something to say that wouldn't sound self-centered or stupid but would describe how it all was in his life.

"Oh, so you're that Calum!" A new voice chirped in their conversation, and Cal's pulse rapidly quickened when he realised who spoke. It was the girl. He looked back at his friend for both explanation and introduction, and Jacob swiftly implemented.

"Cal, this is my friend from college, (y/n). And (y/n), yes, this is that Calum," he placed a friendly slap against Calum's back. "Calum Hood himself."

"Nice to meet you!" The girl, (y/n) stood up, reaching out to shake his hand.

"You too."

He was just about to open his mouth to say something else, he was indeed waiting for this moment the whole night, but in the background a new song started and a loud exclaim left Jacob.

"It's my go-to song! Sorry, pal, gotta leave you here now, I can't not dance to this!" And within less than a moment he was already in the middle of the dancefloor busting out his flawless dance moves.

Quite awkwardly Calum turned back, afraid that without his friend's presence (y/n) would search for other company, but the girl was still watching him with curious eyes.

"So you're the bassist of 5 Seconds Of Summer, right?" (y/n) asked.

"Yeah," he replied, waiting for her to continue.

"Not really my type of music, but I guess you're too famous to be bad."

A few moments of silence set between the two of them, Calum feeling a bit taken aback by the sudden and sharp honesty. It wasn't often anyone said something like this to him.

The next thing he knew was (y/n) bursting out in laughter.

"You should've seen your face," she spoke up half a minute of laughing later, grabbing at her sides. "To be totally honest with you, though, I truly don't listen to that kind of music you make, but I actually did listen to many of your songs and they're good. Just not what I would listen to on my own."

"Okay. Thanks, I guess," Calum smiled, moving his shoulders in a small shrug. "Do you mind if I sit down?"

"Please, feel free to do so," she pointed at Jacob's free chair.

"So you two met in college?"

"Yep. He was the roommate of my boyfriend at the time and we almost instantly bonded and became great friends."

"Oh, nice!"

"You think so?" (y/n) giggled. "Jacob can be a stubborn pain in the ass, maybe it would've been better without him in my life."

They both started laughing before the girl swiftly took it all back, claiming that it was only a joke and Jacob actually saved her from that terrible relationship. That actually gave Calum a subject to have a conversation with the girl about, and about fifteen minute later, with each a slice of cake in front of them on the table they were still talking, much to the boy's extreme inner happiness.

"Enough of me, you're the star. Tell me about how it is, living such a life," she eventually prompted.

"Ugh, okay," Cal nodded, but couldn't find the perfect words to say and stayed silent.

"Come on, it must be pretty exciting. Probably even the smallest details would leave me in awe. I live the simplest life ever."

He took a deep breath to calm his swiftly beating heart and let go of the thought that it was someone he already liked so much who asked him for description.

As soon as he started speaking, the words seemed to flow out from his mouth. The perfect thoughts came to his mind complemented with the perfect words, for him an unusual but incredible combination.

"Wanna dance?" He asked, noticing the girl casting numerous glances towards the dance floor.

"Actually, I was thinking about trying to escape from the building. I could really use some fresh air and quiet. What do you think, can we manage?"

Calum was surprised hearing her proposal, but leaving to an even more private place to continue their conversation seemed the greatest idea ever.

"We should give it a try," he grinned and stood up before in a moment of bravery he reached out to grab her hand. She showed no resistance just jumped up, grabbed her purse and followed him out of the room by the wall, behind everyone on the dancefloor.

"That was much easier than I thought," (y/n) giggled as she leant against the wall of the building, letting the coolness sweep through the thin material of her dress.

"Exactly," Cal nodded along. "I thought at least Jacob would notice but it seems like disappeared somewhere."

"Yeah, and actually I'm pretty glad you came up to him because if you haven't, now I'd be sitting all alone at our table."

"You're welcome."

"And you're not as bad of a company as I thought you to be," the girl admitted, making him stop pacing up and down in front of her he was doing nonstop ever since getting out of the wedding venue.

"You expected me to be bad company?" He frowned.

"I mean, yeah," (y/n) shrugged. "You're a world wide famous musician. You have every reason to be cocky."

"Okay, I see." Calum couldn't help but feel a bit hurt by her accusation, no matter how well he knew she was partially right.

"But you proved me wrong, and that's what matters," she continued, touching his arm sweetly.

They smiled at each other, a comfortable, nice feeling filling the air around them as if they were in their own little bubble, not bothered by the real world.

Though the next moment this bubble suddenly bursted when a wobbly figure exited the building, almost tripping in his own feet.

"(y/n), is that you?" Jacob asked, voice proving his slightly drunken state.

"Yep."

"And is your promise to take me home still on?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" (y/n) frowned as her friend got closer. "I didn't drink anything."

"Because of your company," Jacob chuckled with a smug look on his face.

"Oh, come on, Jacob," she sighed. "We're only talking."

"I know, I know," the boy put his hands up in defense before bursting out laughing once again. "But who knows where the night would end?"

"Shut up, just go get our things."

When their mutual friend disappeared inside once again, she turned back to Calum.

"So, I have to go now."

"Yeah," the young man nodded, feeling sadness pang in his chest.

"What, are you going to let me leave without asking the one question that was so obviously on the tip of your tongue the whole night?" (y/n) let out a laugh.

Calum felt his eyes widen by the girl's observation and he gulped before eventually speaking up, eyes casted to the ground to hide his embarrassment for being so evident.

"Wanna, like– I mean, if you're not busy... We could get lunch someday? Or even just coffee if you don't have a lot of time?"

"Sure, yeah."

"Really?" He looked up in surprise.

"Yes, dumbass. I enjoyed talking tonight, we should continue it sometime," (y/n) explained, pulling her phone out of her purse. "Here, give me your number so we could arrange the date and location."

Calum still felt stunned as his fingers almost instinctively typed in the numbers one by one before handing the devide back to the girl. She swiftly tapped away on it, and the next moment his phone beeped in his pocket.

"I sent a text so you have my number too."

They stared at each other's eyes in silence before (y/n) suddenly stepped closer and pressed a lingering kiss on his cheek. Cal subconsciously leant into her touch but before he could react any more properly, she was already halfway towards the door.

With one last wave and a glance above her shoulder she disappeared, leaving Calum standing frozen in the dark night. Slowly he managed to make himself take the first step and eventually set off to stroll inside the building, his fingers pulling out his phone to open her text and save her number.

Next time don't be so shy, rockstar, I'm not biting. Xx

.::the end::.

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