#where they introduced the chinese commentator and they spoke a little

[oplishin]

i think i need to start watching c dramas to improve my language comprehension 😭

[ladysmutwriter]

I hope nobody catch us (but i kinda hope they catch us)

Sophie (Cry of Fear) x Female!Reader

TW: fluff, lesbians hell yeah, drinking, fuck simon we want sophie!!

You laughed at David's joke as you drank from your beer, on the other side of the table Simon and Sophie drank too.

You were David's younger sister, him not being a big part of your life until a few months ago. He had always had problems with substance abuse, leaving your parents house when he was around 17 to disseapear completely- now, he had one day appeared in your door asking if he could crash for a while, you accepted with the rule of no getting high -other than pot because shit, you did it too; and he was allowed to smoke only if he shared with you- and he began introducing you to his friends, taking you out to just sit in the woods as you remembered stuff from when you were kids or just to order some chinese take out and eat in your dept as you watched some random movie.

Simon was... Odd, not in a harmfull way, but just by looking in his eyes you could see he dealt with a lot of problems, and he smoked a cigarette like every 10 minutes, sometimes you'd go to smoke with him, your conversations being mostly one sided as he never spoke, only made a few small comments and stared at nothing.

Sophie was a charm to be around, in the little time you knew her, she'd constantly take you out to the mall, or you'd go to her house and watch movies- not to mention her being pretty, her hair was always soft and whenever you crossed the street she'd take your hand in hers. Cute.

David began talking about something you couldn't really pay attention, your eyes fixated onto Sophie's, hers being on you too; her face a light shade of pink as her eyes went from your mouth to your eyes, perhaps it was the alcohol in her, but you couldn't help but notice how her lip balm made her lips lightly shiny, your mind running on how it would taste on your own lips.

Excusing herself, she went to the bathroom, quickly getting up you said that you'd go check on her in case she needed to puke or something, Simon and David ignoring you as they spoke about a metal festival coming soon on Stockholm.

Moving across the pub's tables, your face turned a deep shade of red, thinking of what shitty excuse you'd give her to not look like a creep, for fucks sake you followed her to the bathroom. Entering the badly lit bathroom,you found Sophie washing her face, giving you a small smile as she moved to get some paper towel to dry herself.

"I came to check if everything was alright- since we had our fair share of alcohol back there" You quickly said, standing where she was before.

She silently stood in front of you, her face falling on your chest as she hugged you; from her wobbly movements and pink face, you could tell she wasn't completely sober, shit, you not being any better as you were trying your best to not puke or fall, all of your concentration shifting from Sophie and her warmth, back to your wobbly knees trying not to give up.

This felt wrong in a way, nothing was happening but her actions said everything, her head turning to face you as she batted her eyelashes, eyes fixated on your lips. you knew Simon had a crush on her, he'd ocassionally talk to you about it and David always told you about it, mocking Simon's unlucky love life; yet, you didn't care if anyone caught you, nobody else mattered in the moment as you got lost on her dark eyes, your hand going to her bottom lip, her eyes closing as you caressed her soft lips, her head going to yours as you did as well, your lips shyly meeting as your mouths moved rythmically, the strawberry taste of her lip balm drowning your senses, her arms going to your shoulder, yours going to her waist.

Suddenly the whole world went blank, only the feeling of her warmth and the taste of her beer on your mouth, your hands going underneath her shirt to draw circles on the sides of her torso, the feeling of her filling your whole senses.

Her tongue poked your bottom lip, asking for permission, as you opened more your mouth your tongue found hers, the odd texture of tongues rubbing together feeling like the most wonderful thing on the world.

Separating to breath, her chest felt heavy as her eyes looked at you with something you couldn't tell, it wasn't lust, it seemed like pure love, as if she had waited for a long time for this, her lips muttering "Let's go" only for you to hear, grabbing her hand, you two ran through the back door of the pub, not caring about Simon or David, them being so drunk they probably forgot about you two.

Running through the lonely streets of Stockholm, hand in hand as you two laughed at running away from your friends, you arrived to your dept; taking out your phone as you entered, sending David a message that said the following.

"Sophie didn't feel good so she'll stay over, you crash at Simon's because we want to be alone"

Turning your phone in silent mode so no one will bother you, you searched for Sophie, finding her on your bed only in her underwear, your pupils dilating at her sight.

She wore plain white underwear with a small bow in the front, her face red and her hair messy as she looked at you nervously. Wasting no time, you walked towards her, grabbing softly her chin as your lips once again connected with hers, her hands tugging at your shirt as you broke the kiss to take it off, next being your jeans as you switched positions, letting her crawl on top of you as you laid on the bed, your hands going to her ass as she began kissing your neck, sucking lightly and biting trying to make hickeys; you let out soft moans for her, your hands massaging her behind until one of your hands slipped to the front of her panties, fingers softly rubbing her clit as she stopped her work on your neck, her hands going to grip your shoulders as she held back moans, her head falling next to your as her hips grinded against your hand.

Leaving butterfly kisses on her shoulders your other hand slipped underneath her, moving her panties to the side as you tested the waters, one of your fingers entering her hole, her juices covering your finger as she bit down on your shoulder, her moans vibrating against your shoulder, you worked one finger, then added another, then a third, until you felt something wet and way to liquid to be her juices fall onto your lap; looking down you saw blood- this was her first time.

She noticed you stopping and looked down too; her hands going to cover her face shyly. Moving her hands from her face you cleaned your bloody fingers on your sheets -you had to buy new ones anyways, these had like 6 years- softly turning her on her back, you went to get a towel from your bathroom and dipped it on some water, going back to Sophie to clean her thighs and cunt, running her panties down her legs as you began kissing her lower abdomen and thighs, her hands caressing your hair as your kisses slowly went down to her pussy, your hands opening her folds as you began licking her, soon enough your lips going to suck on her clitoris, her hips grinding against your mouth as she moaned little praises for you.

Your fingers went to her opening once again, going knuckle deep as you took turns from licking to sucking her clit.

With a particular loud moan, her walls tightened around your fingers and her hips began shaking, the salty taste of her cum spreading on your mouth and chin as you cleaned your face with once again, the sheets (lmao).

Falling next to her, you began leaving little kisses on her face as she breathed heavily, her hand to yours and intertwining your fingers.

She turned to her side, her hair falling in her face as you fixed it for her, her eyes slowly closing as she fell asleep, on the other hand, you hugged her body as you too fell asleep.

[mad4india1]

This Zero-Waste Clothing Line Is Redefining Fashion With Bihar’s Traditional Arts & Changing The Notion Of Bihar

You’ve probably heard “Bihar” has the highest rates of poverty or illiteracy in the country. Biharis” have a negative reputation for being quick to anger, and slovenly in general. And when it comes to the state’s traditional arts or culture, only one or two are well-known.

Have you ever thought about why “Bihari” is used as a slang word? More or less, it’s because we are too uninterested in discovering and understanding how great this state is. Bihar is where some of the greatest thinkers of all time lived. It is also where Buddhism, the world’s most famous faith, began.

She Is The Change We All Need

Suave Sumati Jalan Sumati Jalan just like many others left her home state, Bihar to attend college in another state. She earned degrees in law, languages and literature, and mass communication. But with endless adventures and experiences came a shocking reality knocking at her door. She confronted the discrimination that inhabitants of her native state experienced due to their origin as Bihar natives.

It’s not a secret that the majority of the world has a negative impression of Biharis. Actually, we all have preconceived notions about what a Bihari should be like, and Sumanti often was surprised to hear the prejudices people had for Biharis. Instead of pushing these judgy comments aside she took them to her heart and decided to challenge all the prejudices she could.

The Patna native, who is now 43 years old, sometimes even got offended by the way her home state was portrayed when she was younger. Sumati gave genuine consideration to ideas that most people treated casually or as a joke. She knew, what a wonders her home state was but she also realised that a very little part of it is served to the nation.

Traditional Arts – Were Her Muse

To change how people think about her state she decided to use traditional arts as her ladder. She realised that to change how people think about Bihar she need to think about how people see it.

She was introduced to art from an early age. Dewan Bahadur RK Jalan, her great-grandfather, amassed an extensive global collection of antiquities. These works of art were formerly prized possessions of Indian, European, Chinese, Turkish, Tibetan, and African emperors, monarchs, and nobles.

There are still priceless works of art, including manuscripts, papers, linens, bone china, and even weaponry proudly displays the collection in Sumati’s family home, the Quila House

After travelling to different states for education and jobs she finally decided to settle in her home state Bihar in 2018. At the time she didn’t really have anything planned, so she just started talking to the weavers who came into town to sell their handloom goods.

She made an effort to learn about their process and their challenges. The majority of the weavers she spoke with expressed concern that the next generation would not carry on the family business as they were leaving the state for the metropolis, where they find better employment.

Their accounts inspired her to bring back Bihar’s traditional arts like weaving and embroidery techniques. In 2020, she launched her clothing brand, Bihart, which she describes as an effort to debunk myths about her culturally rich home state. She started a brand which proudly flaunts the Bihari identity using traditional arts of the state.

Bihart – The Change

Bihar has a rich cultural heritage, yet very few people are aware of its handicrafts, only Bhagalpuri Tussar silk weaves and Madhubani paintings were the traditional arts that could find the spotlight. Traditional arts like Sujani, Manjusha, and Sikki, as well as weaves like extra weft, chingari, fishnet, and jharna have gone endangered.

With Bihart, Sumati creates contemporary designs using traditional arts, such as mulberry silk sarees, kurtis, crop tops, tote bags using appliqué figures, handmade Sujani dolls, and extra weft cushions.

She also claims that our perceptions of luxury are flawed. The term “luxury” is now often used to indicate “expensive.” Historically, luxury meant investing in durable, high-quality items. Everything from scent to furnishings to clothes has been affected by this.

In the luxury market, there is no longer any relationship between price and quality. “When I shop,” she continues, “I always try to figure out why something is so darn expensive.”

She wishes to bring back all artisans home, and with Biharat she wishes to provide each Bihari employment and change the notion of luxury with a brand tag, Keeping her vision clear she is hitting two birds with one stone.

At Bihart everything is done by the locals, from spinning the yarn to having the fabric handwoven to teaching the weavers and commissioning the original designs for each garment. This way she is not only giving a very crisp experience with handmade items but also is generating ample amount of employment for natives of Bihar.

Bihart’s most popular traditional arts products are mulberry silk sarees, extra-weft shirts, silk extra-weft cushions, and recycled crop tops. When it comes to garbage, Bihart doesn’t generate any. She explains that a Khadi crop top is designed using embroidered fabric remnants.

Bihart, which was started in 2020, makes Rs 1.5 lakh monthly. Goa, Bangalore, Delhi, Udaipur Rishikesh among others are some of the places where Bihart has walk-in shops.

Through Bihart, Sumati works closely with local weavers and crafters. She has a network of 12 weavers and 18 artisans, along with 15 full-time employees.

Sumati did face difficulties in seeking to enhance the skill level of these artisans but she shares it is critical to teach them how to evolve better. Bulls, kalash (pots), cows, and lotuses are among their most prevalent themes. Sumati also helps them with unique geometric designs.

A Glimpse Of A New World

She had ample free time to dedicate herself entirely to Bihart, and she had a vision for busting stereotypes. She had enough spare money and time from her teaching profession to make ends meet. Although founding Bihart was not a well-planned decision, things worked out wonderfully for her. She continues, “I never thought I’d make a brand, have a team, or take on traditional arts so seriously.”

Sumati considers Bihart to be a success since it achieves the objectives she set out to achieve when she originally started it. Her customers come from places such as Delhi, Pune, Bengaluru, and Mumbai, to name a few.

Her vision was to train Bihar in achieving good employment in the state itself while promoting the traditional art forms of the state and letting the world see what great magics the land has and indeed she seems to find great success in her tries.

[helloalycia]

girl next door [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: somebody new moves into the flat next to yours and you feel the need to introduce yourself, only to learn she's not very talkative

warning/s: none i don’t think??

author’s note: first part to a three-parter i’ve been working on, hope you like it! (also the masterlist needs to be updated so soz about that)

part two | part three | part four | part five |masterlist | wattpad

Shopping bags in hand, I returned from the supermarket to my flat when I saw the usually-vacant flat next door to me in use. The front door was slightly ajar, with several moving boxes in front and the sound of someone moving about inside. Huh, so someone moved in. It had been vacant for half a year now – it was nice to finally have a neighbour!

I headed to my own flat, my nosey self taking a peek through the door to see if I could have an idea of who was moving in, but I couldn't see anyone, so I continued to go into my own place and unpack my groceries. After doing so, I decided to head next door and introduce myself, excited to meet someone new in the building.

The boxes from earlier were gone now, probably all inside, and the door was shut like I usually saw it. I sucked up a breath before knocking on, a friendly smile reserved on my lips for whoever would open.

It took a moment, but the door finally opened and revealed a brunette with bright hazel eyes and a mildly confused expression on her face. She seemed strangely familiar, but I couldn't quite pinpoint it.

"Hey! I just wanted to come 'round and introduce myself. I'm your new neighbour." I pointed to my door next to hers and added, "I saw you moving in earlier. I'm Y/N."

She pursed her lips, eyes glancing around subtly before looking me up and down. "Er, hi... I'm Wanda."

I detected a slight accent in her voice with the few words she spoke and became immediately intrigued since everyone in this building was usually the same old American. I didn't ask about it though, as I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable at our first meeting.

"Nice to meet you, Wanda," I returned with a smile. "I've been living here for a year now, so if you need a hand with anything or need pointers for where to get the best Chinese, I'm your girl." I paused, expecting some sort of reaction, but she didn't move a muscle. Swallowing awkwardly, I added, "Of course, if you just need a hand with unpacking or anything, I'm also happy to help."

She still didn't reply, and in fact, she looked a bit peeved with my presence which made me realise that maybe she just wasn't a talkative person.

I cleared my throat nervously before finishing with, "I'll, er, I'll leave you to it. Sorry to disturb you..."

I chewed on my lower lip as I avoided her piercing gaze and went back to my own place. Not everybody was interested in befriending their neighbours, I got that, so I respected her decision and decided not to bother her in the future. It didn't make me feel any less embarrassed at my intrusiveness though.

I didn't think much of it until the following morning when I was watering my plants out on the fire escape. My fire escape was joined with the neighbour's – the neighbour that usually didn't exist but was now Wanda. The brunette was stood there, drinking some coffee and staring out into the distance. I debated wishing her a good morning, but decided against it as I recalled her being quite introverted. Instead, I awkwardly watered the several plant pots I had, opting to stay quiet so I could be in and out without bugging her once more.

To my surprise, she spoke up and it took me a second to realise she was talking to me.

I held my watering jug upright as I glanced in her direction. She was already staring at me, deep set eyes darkened over the rim of her coffee cup.

"What's that?" I asked, not sure what she’d said.

She cleared her throat, eyes flickering to the plants to distract from her discomfort. "I'm sorry. For being strange yesterday. You were being warm and welcoming and I just..." She paused, releasing a shaky breath. "I've had a bad past few weeks. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

I definitely wasn't expecting that, then realised how many bad days I'd had and taken out on random strangers. I didn't blame her and instead felt bad for her – moving into a new place was supposed to be exciting, so I couldn't imagine what had ruined her past few weeks.

"Well, apology accepted," I said with a small smile. "And I hope things begin to look up for you soon, Wanda."

Her lips twitched into the tiniest of smiles and I noticed how different she looked when she wasn't down in the dumps – she was quite beautiful.

I finished watering my plants before giving her a final smile. I was about to head back inside, but I hung back curiously.

"Er, Wanda, if you don't mind me saying," I started randomly, "you seem familiar. We haven't met before, have we?"

She raised her eyebrows with surprise. "Oh, really? You don't kn–?" She tilted her head to the side, as if expecting me to understand, but I wasn't sure what she wanted. "I... I guess I just have one of those faces."

I studied her curiously, trying to figure it out. But nothing was coming to mind, so I hummed in agreement. "Yeah, I guess so... anyway, enjoy the rest of your day."

She nodded. "You, too."

–

The next time I saw Wanda was probably a week later, just after I collected my mail from the mailroom. I'd received one of those random free trial boxes for a subscription I must have accidentally signed up for – a box of different flavoured trail mixes – and felt bad throwing it out since it was still food at the end of the day. There were nuts in the mixes, which I was allergic to, so I decided to knock on Wanda's door and see if she wanted them.

I hadn't spoken to her since she moved in, except for the occasional good morning on the fire escape if we saw one another, so I hoped she was a little happier compared to when we last spoke properly. Maybe whatever had bothered her was resolved now.

When she opened the door, she seemed surprised that it was me, probably not expecting me to stop by again after last time.

I offered her a smile. "Hey, Wanda. I, er, hope this isn't a bad time."

She shook her head after recovering from her surprise. "No, no, it's not. Is everything okay?" She paused, glancing around, unprepared. "Do you want to come in or...?"

"It's okay, I'm good here," I said when I saw how uncomfortable she seemed. I wasn't just about to invite myself into her flat because she felt she needed to ask. "I just stopped by because, well, do you want this?" I handed her the box, adding, "I got a free sample in the post. Didn't wanna throw it out because it's food, y'know? And I'm allergic to nuts, so my throat will probably puff up and stop me from breathing which isn't good."

I laughed awkwardly, internally cringing at how I spoke utter nonsense because of her lack of her words and my stupid need to fill the silence.

"Unless you're allergic to nuts too," I added as an afterthought, when she glanced at the packaging with no readable expression. "In which case I should probably throw them right away and this whole thing is stupid."

After what felt like an eternity of me not shutting up, she lifted her gaze, eyes softening with a hint of amusement.

"I'm not allergic to nuts," she assured me, before nodding. "Thank you, Y/N."

I relaxed, not even realising how tense my shoulders were. "That's– that's good... so, how are you settling into your new place? All good, I hope?"

Subconsciously, I chewed on the inside of my mouth, wondering why I was so eager to speak to somebody who clearly didn't want to speak to me. She was so quiet, not a woman of many words, yet I couldn't help but feel responsible for welcoming her.

"It's nice," she said, glancing around thoughtfully. "It's quiet. Private."

I nodded in agreement, eyes falling to her doorframe as I said, "Yeah, that's true. Nothing eventful ever happens here."

She hummed, acknowledging my words. I figured the conversation had ran dry and I'd stayed a little too long, so I tried to think of a way to end it without her feeling forced to. Instead, she spoke up next.

"I like your garden."

I furrowed my brows, wondering what she was talking about.

"The flowers on our fire escape," she clarified, small smile tugging at her lips. "They're beautiful."

I stifled a laugh. "I mean, thanks, but it's barely a garden. I've always wanted a proper space to grow stuff, but obviously I can't have that here."

"Well, you've done a great job with what you have," she complimented, and I was sure it was the most she'd spoken to me since moving in. I suddenly didn't feel like she disliked my presence as much as I once thought.

"Thank you," I said gratefully. "Maybe you can start your own alongside mine some day."

"Maybe," she shrugged, "but probably not. Everything I touch–" She paused, life leaving her eyes momentarily, and head looking down to her shoes. "Everything I touch dies."

I pressed my lips together, not expecting the awkward silence to follow. Wanda seemed stuck in thought and I wasn't sure how I'd managed to bring the conversation down so suddenly, especially with the talk of flowers.

"The lovely thing about flowers," I began, earning her attention and hoping to brighten the mood, "is that they only require a little love, some sunlight and some water to keep going. They tend to take care of themselves. Perfect for even the blackest of thumbs."

She let out a breath through her nose, a half chuckle and half acknowledgment of my comment. It was the closest I'd get to a response, so I ran a hand through my hair and took a step back.

"Anyway, I'm glad you're settling in okay," I concluded with a kind smile. "Again, if you need anything, I'm just next door."

"Thank you," she said, returning the smile, and her eyes sparkled as she did. "Have a good afternoon, Y/N."

"You, too, Wanda."

–

The apartment complex I lived in rarely had people entering that I didn't recognise – I'd lived here long enough to know who was who, even the postwoman and maintenance guy. So, when I was leaving for the supermarket and saw a suspicious-looking man walking down the hall, eyes checking every door, I grew curious.

"You okay there, sir?" I called out to him after locking my front door.

He looked my way, readjusting his cap lower on his head, casting a shadow over his face. "Er, yeah..." He hesitated, glancing at his phone before looking to me again. "Actually, maybe you can help me. I'm looking for Wanda Maximoff's apartment. Do you know which one that is?"

I narrowed my eyes at the tall stranger. "I'm sure you can understand my concern when I ask who's asking."

"Oh, no, I completely understand," he said with a nod, and I could swear I had seen him before. "I'm an old friend of hers."

I quirked a brow. Strange man who claimed to a woman-who-lived-alone's friend? That had trouble written all over it. And from one woman to another, I was concerned, even if I didn’t know her very well.

"That's not saying much, sir," I said, biting back the annoyance. "I think that maybe you should–"

I stopped speaking when Wanda's door opened and she popped her head out. She looked to me before spotting the tall stranger, shoulders relaxing.

"I thought I heard you out here," she mumbled to the stranger, before stepping out fully and giving me a reassuring look. "It's okay, Y/N. I know him."

I nodded, glancing at the man, before meeting Wanda's eyes knowingly. "If you're sure..."

She seemed comfortable as she crossed her arms, hugging herself. Smiling reassuringly, she nodded. I relaxed when I saw she knew the suspicious stranger.

"In that case, sorry 'bout the interrogation," I apologised to her friend. "But, you gotta understand with the whole getup you have..."

Her friend chuckled deeply, looking to his shoes with amusement. "Yeah, sorry about that, ma'am. Didn't mean to worry you. It's nice to know Wanda here has thoughtful neighbours though."

"I'm twenty-two, not a ma'am," I said with amusement, before shaking my head. "Anyway, I should get going. Sorry again."

Wanda and her friend nodded as I left them; I was just glad it wasn't some creepy perv stalking our building – that had happened once.

I headed to the supermarket to do some shopping when I saw Wanda again, this time in the milk aisle. Well, she actually saw me, her trolley stopping before mine as she got my attention.

"Oh, Wanda, hey," I greeted her with a smile. "Fancy seeing you here."

She cracked a smile. "Yeah, well, I needed to pick up a few things. Milk, actually," she grabbed some from the fridge to prove her point, "when I saw you."

I nodded, before remembering earlier and feeling a little embarrassed. "Hey, er, sorry about before with your friend. I hope I didn't offend them or anything."

"No need to apologise," she said with a shake of her head. "It's actually very nice of you to have my back like that. I mean, we don't even know each other that well, but you watched out for me. I appreciate it."

"It's the bare minimum of a neighbour," I joked, before settling into genuine smile. "Besides, I'd like to think you'd do the same."

"Of course," she agreed, nodding slightly, before her eyes drifted to the fridge.

I noticed that every conversation we shared felt unfinished, like there was more to be said but neither of us had the guts to say it. Like now, for example, I wanted to check in and see if she was okay, but I felt like I was overstepping since, as she'd put it, we didn’t know each other very well. So, I changed the subject instead.

"So, just milk then?" I asked, nodding to her trolley which had a few bits and bobs in.

She was confused for a moment, zoning back into reality, before it registered in her mind and she answered, "Along with a few other things. And you?"

"Pretty much same," I said with a shrug.

Her eyes lingered in my trolley as she stifled a smile. "That looks like a lot more than a few things, Y/N." 

I almost laughed. "Technically, yeah, I guess..." I met her curious gaze, explaining, "I'm having a meal with my sister, her boyfriend and my boyfriend at my place tonight. Cooking a lamb roast." She raised her eyebrows with mild surprise, making me shrug dismissively. "It's not that big of a deal, but there's a lot to prepare and I like things to be perfect, so yeah."

She licked her lips and nodded. "It sounds great. Good luck, I guess. I'm sure it'll turn out wonderful."

"Fingers crossed."

She chuckled, glancing at her shoes, making her dark hair fall in front of her like a curtain. When she looked back up, I couldn't help but smile at how cute she looked.

"I'll leave you to it then," she said, before redirecting her trolley around me. "See you whenever."

"See you." I nodded as she walked past me, shoulder brushing mine and leaving me startled at the weird effect she had on me whenever we spoke.

It didn't last for long though, so I brushed it off and continued to do my shop. The evening couldn't come soon enough, and I soon found myself entertaining my boyfriend, my sister and her boyfriend at my dinner table.

"So I was cooking us a nice meal, as we planned, and she ended up having a go at me because of the mess I made afterwards," my boyfriend, Teddy, was explaining to my sister and her boyfriend, Caleb. "That's why I don't try to be romantic anymore."

I paused from sipping my water, looking over at Teddy with an are you serious? look on my face. Y/S/N and Caleb laughed at Teddy's story, but I wasn't as amused as they were.

"Aw, c'mon, babe, don't be pissed off again," Teddy pleaded teasingly from beside me. "It's a joke. I'm joking."

"But that's not how it happened," I corrected him, before looking to the couple before me. "What Teddy means to say is that I had just cleaned the kitchen and told him that when he cooks, he should try to clean as he goes along so it's easier, but of course, he drops cream everywhere and I had to clean it out of the crevices of the counter. All over again."

Y/S/N and Caleb laughed at my retelling of the story, and Teddy frowned playfully as he looked my way.

"And that's definitely not the reason you're not romantic," I said to him promisingly. "When was the last time you even got me flowers?"

He tried to take lead of the conversation again, straightening up and asking, "When was the last time you got me flowers? Feminism, Y/N. It goes both ways."

He was never usually this obnoxious and it was irking me. Y/S/N and Caleb assumed it was all a joke, so were laughing it off, but I was starting to get frustrated. How could he try and make me look terrible in front of my own family?

"I bought you flowers two weeks ago when you got your promotion, remember?" I answered him with a raised brow.

"Damn, she got you there, Ted," Caleb said like it was a burn.

I subtly clenched my jaw and distracted myself with sipping water. Teddy sighed and tried to wrap an arm around me, but I pulled away slightly.

"Oh, come on, you're not mad, are you? This is all in good faith, babe," he said lightly.

I downed my water and looked between them all. "I think I'm gonna get some air. You guys enjoy your drinks."

They all chorused their disagreements, but I couldn't be bothered dealing with them when they were tipsy and annoying, so I ignored them and headed to the fire escape for a breather.

When I reached the railing, I sighed immediately, feeling like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Until I heard a creaking noise and jumped with surprise before seeing Wanda sitting on her side of the fire escape, drink in hand.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she said apologetically.

I breathed out, turning around and leaning my back against the railing so I could see her better. "It's okay, it's not you. I just– I forgot you could be there. Used to living without a neighbour. It's taking some getting used to."

I forced a small smile to reassure her, before looking down and taking small breaths of fresh air. Teddy could get under my skin at times, tonight being one of those times, and it was happening more and more lately. Why couldn't he just be less... annoying?

"Is everything okay?" Wanda asked, and I looked up fo see her green-gold eyes glowing in the dark under the moon light.

"Yeah," I said with a nod. I glanced inside, seeing my three guests laughing it up like I was still there. I collapsed on my chair and stared into the bustling city ahead. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Wanda hesitated. "Didn't you have that dinner tonight?"

I leaned in the palm of my hand, mumbling, "Yeah. It's still going on. I just needed some air."

Wanda must have sensed there was more to my words – it didn't take a genius to see that – but to my relief, she didn't push on. All she said was, "Oh, okay," and stayed quiet.

The two of us sat there, in a comfortable silence, staring into the city and revelling in the moon's presence. It was beautiful out, though not a single star could be seen because of the city's pollution. Instead, the moon hung high above our heads and conflicted with the many street and building lights of New York City, thriving even past dusk.

I probably could have stayed there all night, preferring Wanda's silent yet comfortable presence to whatever was waiting for me back inside. But to my dismay, I was called back in and sighed quietly to myself. 

"I should head back in," I excused myself, standing up to leave. But I lingered by the door, asking Wanda, "Have you eaten dinner yet?" She seemed puzzled with my question, and I continued speaking anyway. "I made a lot of food and have loads of leftovers I can't finish myself."

She seemed to understand what I was implying and shook her head. "That's okay, Y/N, thank you."

"Wanda, I insist," I said with a small smile. "It'll just go in the bin otherwise."

She was still reluctant. "Honestly, it's fine."

i wasn't taking no for an answer though. "I'll stop by in a bit to drop it off."

"Y/N, I–"

"See you then!" I exclaimed before heading back inside and leaving her no choice to deny it.

"There she is," Y/S/N called out to me when I returned. "You feel better?"

"Perfect," I said sarcastically.

She laughed. "C'mon, we're all sorry. Besides, Caleb and I have to go now, so we want to end on a good note."

Was I being too butt hurt? Probably.

"Right, sorry," I said, looking to them all, before saying, "Do you guys want any food to bring back with you?"

"You guys enjoy it," Caleb said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It was delicious though, Y/N. Thanks for the lovely evening."

"Anytime," I said with a tired smile, before leading them to the door and looking to my sister. "Let me know when you're home, yeah?"

She hummed in agreement, before pulling me into a tight hug. "Love you, Y/N."

"Love you, too," I returned with a playful eye roll.

After bidding them a goodbye, I was left alone with Teddy, who was surprisingly washing the dishes.

"This your way of apologising?" I joked, stopping by the sink.

He glanced at me with apologetic eyes. "Depends. Is it working?"

As I met his brown eyes, I thought back to how frustrating he was acting earlier. He must have been acting out in front of guests for some reason, but he wasn't always like that. Maybe I was overreacting. 

"I'll let you know when you're done," I retorted, making him smile with amusement.

As he did that, I worked on filling some containers with leftover dinner for Wanda, being sure to include a generous amount of everything.

"Who's that for?" Teddy asked, noticing what I was doing.

"Wanda, my new neighbour."

"Never heard of her."

I gave him a knowing look. "Hence the word 'new'."'

He returned the stare. "What I mean is, I've never seen her around."

I shrugged, finishing packing the containers and stacking them to carry. "She prefers to keep to herself."

"What, like a weirdo?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, Teddy. She's just private. Introverted, if you will."

"Sounds like a weirdo to me..."

I chose to ignore him as I left the flat and headed to Wanda's. She opened up quicker than usual, probably since she was expecting me this time.

"Bon appétit," I joked, before holding out the takeaway containers. "It's lamb roast with veg, potatoes, some gravy and bread."

"You really didn't have to," she said, though accepted the food. When she glanced down at it, she added, "This is a lot for one person."

I couldn't help the smile on my face. "Enough for second's. You'll have to let me know if you like it. It's my best recipe."

She snickered, eyes meeting mine. "I'm sure it's delicious... do you want to come in?"

Stepping to the side, she looked to me with what I think was a hopeful expression. I felt bad when I smiled sadly, shaking my head.

"I'd love to, Wanda, but I've actually still got my boyfriend over and I can't really, y'know..."

"No worries," she was quick to reassure. "It's– no, it's okay, honestly. I just thought I'd ask."

It was the first time she'd ever asked and meant it, which meant she was finally getting comfortable with me. I would have preferred to go in, but I couldn't just leave Teddy, nor kick him out.

"Maybe we can hang out tomorrow?" I asked hopefully. "If you want, that is. Because I want to. But I don't want to just invite myself over."

She seemed amused as she nodded. "Tomorrow sounds great. Maybe I can make you dinner, as a thank you for this food."

I grew a little excited at spending a bit more time with the quiet, reserved brunette. "I'd like that."

She nodded, lips pursed into a suppressed smile, and glanced at the food in her hand. "Great. Well... have a good evening, Y/N. And thank you again for the food."

"Good evening," I returned, subconsciously memorising the rare smile she gave me, before leaving her to it.

When I returned to my flat, all I could think about was the next night and getting to know Wanda.

[mae-gi-writes]

Awkwardly In Love | Mingi (ATEEZ)

Volleyball player! Mingi can’t seem to take his eyes off the girl on the bleachers whose got her nose stuck in her book.

Genre: FLUFF AND CUTE AWKWARD MINGI SBGKJDGJ I CAN’T HE RUINS ME. 

Word count: you just gotta know that it iz quite a long ride. I apologize for that.

----

She's always got her nose buried in her book.

That's what catches Mingi's attention at first.

See, he's not one to read. Nor does he have any interest in reading and books and the things that come with it. Growing up in a household full of children involved in physical sport, books had counted for nothing but a minimal afterthought. That, and the fact that their financial struggles made it so that they didn't spend on books if it could be helped.

So seeing her always carrying around piles and piles of books has Mingi wonder how much extra cash does she have to spend on all this imaginary stories.

When he realizes that the reason she's always on the same spot on the bleachers is due to her cousin being in the same volleyball team as he is, he can't help but start asking questions.

"Yeah she's my mother's sister's daughter," Hongjoong says with a small affectionate smile, "we basically grew up in the same household so she waits for me after classes."

"You guys close then?" Mingi asks in a forced nonchalant tone. He keeps his eyes on the ball being served on the other side, palms already closed and upturned at the ready.

"Ready?" His teammate calls.

"Yeah!" They both holler.

He serves. The ball swoops in a beautiful arc and Mingi steels himself before receiving the ball with trained precision.

Pack!

"Closer than siblings," Hongjoong answers as the ball flies over the net, "why do you ask?"

Mingi is about to answer when he spots the ball. Hongjoong sweeps in, steering his legs to tap the ball high in the air.

Tap!

Mingi's head swivels up, catches the ball to throw it back at Hongjoong.

Pack!

"In!" The referree calls to signal that they've marked the final point to the game. The pair allow sighs to leave their lips as they slowly make their way out of the court.

"Uhm," Mingi's chest heaves up and down with effort. Sweat dots his forehead as he racks for an excuse, "just curious I guess."

"Want me to introduce you?"

"Uh-- I--That's not--necessary--"

It's too late though, for Hongjoong is already calling out her name, "Y/N!"

Her head lifts from where it's been buried in her book.

Her cousin motions for her to come forward and no sooner is she stepping down from the bleachers that Mingi's neck flushes bright red, and he knows deep down it's not from the fact that he's just exercised.

"Y/N, meet Mingi my teammate," Hongjoong's grin is definitely one that is suggestive, which does nothing for Mingi's confidence.

"Hi," she sends him a warm smile, extending a hand. Mingi shakes it and can't help but notice how tiny her fingers are in comparison.

Delicate fingers, so breakable. Cute.

"H-Hi, I'm Mingi," Oh god, he hopes he doesn't sound like an idiot.

"Mingi's always been on the team. He's the ace after all," adds Hongjoong.

"Ah, that's cool," Y/N nods.

That's how it starts really. At every practice, Mingi makes it a must to talk to her, even if it's juet a tiny greeting, or a slight wave of his shy hand whenever he's already on the court when she stumbles in with her pile of books tucked under her arm. There's just something about her, something that pulls him in like an invisible string even though he can barely make his way through one sentence when he's gazing straight into her eyes.

Once, he musters up the courage to ask her about the book in her lap and the amount of joy flushing up her cheeks makes it so palpable that he feels giddy from her own excitement.

"I'm currently reading Peony in Love," holding up the book so he can see, she continues, "it's a historical novel about this Chinese girl that falls in love with someone who isn't her betrothed, then dies only to realize that this someone is actually her betrothed."

"That's actually really heartbreaking."

"Yeah well, so are most romance stories," she shrugs, "like the titanic."

"I've never actually watched it."

"What?! You're kidding me?"

He shakes his head, ducking his head in embarrassment as he wonders whether she thinks of him as a loser because of his apparent lack of intellectual knowledge.

But instead, he is faced with her enthusiasm, "we should watch it someday! It's like a classic, you'll love it if you like dramatic endings."

"You--" he feels his chest tighten in excitement, "you're serious?"

"Of course I am! I'll let Hongjoong know."

His heart does drop a little at Y/N's cousin's name. He'd hoped that they'd be alone, just the two of them.

Nevertheless, he makes his way over to Hongjoong's flat on the said night and is surprised to find not just the pair of cousins But an entire group of familiar individuals that he's seen hanging around the corridors and classrooms.

"Hey you came!" Hongjoong claps Mingi's back as he steps into the doorway, "I invited some of my close friends too. You probably know them."

As Mingi greets the rest of the group whe exchanging soft pleasantries, he finally catches sight of Y/N's figure darting between tall frames before she emerges, grinning, "hi, Mingi right?"

He can't help but blush right down to his toes, "h-hey, what's up?"

"Sorry for all the noise. The guys just wanted to crash here. Told them we were watching titanic and they promised they wouldn't make running commentaries."

"It's alright. I know them all a little. We're in the same class."

"Ah cool. You guys all in the same major then?"

Mingi scratches the back of his head, "nah I'm in Psych. But since they're all in the sciences like Hongjoong we do have same classes."

"Cool. I wish I could've taken Psych," she puffs up her cheeks into a pout and Mingi's fingers itch to pinch her cheeks.

She can't be that cute. She just can't be.

"So are we starting the movie or what?!" One of the guys --his name is Yunho, Mingi guesses -- calls out.

"The way you're talking Yunho, it's almost like you're the one who really wants to watch it," Hongjoong replies sassily while throwing both arms around Y/N and Mingi respectively before guiding them to the tv room. He dips his head towards Mingi's ear as the group settles in, "don't worry bro, I'll make sure you sit next to her."

Blushing furiously at the older boy's comment, the latter doesn't even have time to defend himself when he is being pushed onto the couch right next to Y/N's figure.

"You a big tears kind of guy?" The girl murmured, popcorn in lap. She extends it out to Mingi, who shyly grabs a handful.

"I guess it depends," Mingi murmurs, "are there animals in there?"

"Oh so you're that kind of guy."

He flushes. What kind of guy is she referring to?

The movie starts with the narration of an old lady gazing at a sapphire necklace, bedore the screen gives way to a shot of the ship itself in all its splendour, glistening a bold black and white in the midday sun.

Mingi knows he should be concentrating on the movie. And it's true, he really should, especially when Y/N had asked him to because it is clearly a classic he can't possibly miss out on. But alas, his eyes keep dashing back and forth between the screen and Y/N's face, stealing looks whenever she is not looking. It's almost like a magnetic pull tugging his gaze back to her no matter how hard he forces his eyes away; flitting over her eyes focused in attention, eyebrows furrowed at the middle with her mouth hanging open like a child amazed with naked wonder.

What can she possibly be thinking? What is going on inside that imaginative mind of hers?

What magical dimension is she traveling to without his knowledge?

It's only when the romance between the two protagonists start blossoming that he finally tears his eyes away to focus on the movie itself, all the while sensing Y/N's heat permeating from her body to his in a way that causes a permanent flush in the back of his neck.

The movie ends all too soon, with tears in Y/N's eyes and some of the other guys as they debate over the ending and how stupid Rose was for not giving Jack some space on the wooden board.

"Well to be fair, he would've probably sunk the entire board," Seonghwa argues. He's the pretty boy that everyone knows of, the one whom every girl has been crushing on since his admittance to their college.

"If I were Rose, I wouldn't want to keep living without the love of my life," Y/N points out, "I would've drowned myself with him."

"Jesus Y/N, that's terrifying," Hongjoong says.

"It's true though!"

The look in her eyes whenever she spoke of movies was a look of naked excitement. Like now, Mingi spots the familiar fire burning through her gaze, a gaze he finds alluring on her. It's like it breathes life into her face. It's similar to the one she wears whenever she's reading.

A few days later on campus, he bumps into her hurrying out of the library as he walks in, almost sending her flying before his arm snatches out to hold her shoulder.

"Sorry," he says hastily while putting her back on her feet and releasing her like she's just burnt him.

"S'okay," Y/N sends him a reassuring smile, "where you going?"

"Assignments. I'm late on my research paper because of practice," Mingi scratches his head. He nods towards her books, "what caught your interest this week?"

"Oh I'm just re-reading A Darker Shade of Magic," she grins like a little child being caught. Something in Mingi's heart softens like butter.

"What's it about?"

"It's so cool, it's like this guy with a super cool coat that has hundreds over coats inside it. And he's a magician and there are parallel worlds that have different wavelengths of magic. So he can travel through the different worlds and--" she stops abruptly then before her cheeks colour in shades of pink, "sorry. I'm rambling again--"

"No no no," Mingi cuts her off, causing her to blink, wide-eyed, "please...continue. I--I like it when you talk about your books. You--You always seem so alive and excited."

"Oh," her face flushes even more as another troop of butterflies tickle Mingi's stomach. She's so damn cute! "Thanks...Mingi."

He tries to analyze the flickering expressions on her face, though he guesses it is close to feeling embarrassed.

"A--Anyway I--I'll get going," Mingi hurriedly says, moving past her with flaming red ears upon realizing what he has just said, only to feel her hand clamp down on his.

He turns to see her, averted gaze and all, little fingers clamped onto his shirt, "do you--do you want to...go see a movie sometime?"

----------

Hongjoong had threatened Mingi with a multitude of ways of killing him in case he broke Y/N's heart, albeit the fact that the taller man stated that no, they weren't going on a date,.and anyway flirting had never been Mingi's strongest points anyway.

"Sure. If it's not a date, what is it then?" Hongjoong had asked with a roll of his eyes.

"It's just two people hanging out," Mingi had protested through red ears and scarlet tinged cheeks.

As per the said man's suggestion, the pair decides to meet up at the cinema entrance to choose the movie of their choice. Y/N is decked in a simple white t-shirt, loose cut-off jeans with red sneakers, and as Mingi silently admires her sense of simple fashion the heat that rises through the back of his neck is enough to make him avert his gaze bashfully.

They settle on a romantic comedy and he volunteers to buy the popcorn so that she can find some decent seats. As he settles into the cinema room and the lights dim into darkness, he places the popcorn box into her hands, waving her off upon her rising protests.

"But you--"

"I'll share it with you, don't-- don't worry," he replies, hand scratching the back of his neck.

Don't sweat it, he says to himself. It's fine. It's not a date. It's just two friends enjoying each other's presence.

Halfway through the movie, Mingi reaches for the popcorn only for their hands to collide. He retracts it like he just burnt himself, causing the said girl to chuckle softly. She reaches over then, with a handful of popcorn, before plopping it straight into his mouth without warning.

Mingi blinks. Heat goes straight to his ears.

When his eyes find hers, she only graces him with a timid smile, before returning back to the movie, totally unaware that his heart is now practically galloping out of his chest.

Jesus, what she does to his heart.

Mingi has never been so whipped in his life, but right now, he's pretty certain that he doesn't mind if that means she can accept his heart.

"Well that was fun," Y/N says the moment they step out of the cinema hall, "wasn't expecting it to be so lovey dovey though."

His head ducks, "I'm sorry," he mutters, "I didn't know you weren't into--"

"Oh no no! Not at all! We both chose it. You have nothing to feel bad about!"

"I'm not that into movies," comes his mumble.

"What?" Y/N stops in the middle of the road as she blinks up at him in shock, "you should've told me!"

"I wasn't interested in seeing the movie, I just wanted to see--" he hesitates slightly, "you."

What the fuck Mingi, he feels like choking himself foe his stupidity. Why was he acting like a total turd? This was ridiculous! She's just a girl, a cute one sure, but still! It's almost like he's lost all ability to make conversation.

He tries once more, "I'm--I'm sorry I shouldn't have--“

“No, I“m the one who's sorry. Here, let me treat you. Ice cream?” and then, her eyes widen, "you do like ice cream right?"

That'a enough for his lips to tilt up into a smile, "I'd love ice cream."

---

Once they settle on a bench at the nearby park, it seems like all nervousness suddenly ease from Mingi's consciousness and slowly, he starts opening up to the said girl as they lick at their ice cream cones. The sun sets over the horizon, turning the blue sky in scarlet hues that reminds him of summer days that last forever.

"Architecture's tough but honestly, that was the only thing my parents would let me study," Y/N says, empty ice-cream stick in hand as her gaze sweeps over the park and its passerbys.

"I guess it makes sense, considering our economy recently," Mingi agrees.

"And you? Why Psych?"

He lifts his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, "I guess I just like analyzing people. It's intriguing, knowing how people think, how they act around others."

"You want to be a therapist?"

"I don't know if I'm strong enough to help people get out of their problems when I can't even help myself."

He feels her eyes on him and finds interest in the way the wind blows across the grass blades.

Her voice is soft when she says, "you don't have to be that kind of hero, if you don't want to."

His heart swells with warmth and sudden affection, though he says nothing but nods in agreement.

It's easily past ten when they trudge back to Y/N's house, with nervousness swimming through Mingi's stomach in apprehension to Hongjoong's earlier threats, though Y/N reassures him that Hongjoong is mostly all talk and no action. That reassures the tall man slightly, until his feet start bristling upon spotting her front porch.

"Thanks for keeping me company today," Y/N tilts her head up, her profile bathed in the backlight of her house, "next time, let's not go to the movies."

Mingi's heart skips, "I didn't mind it."

"I know, but I want to do things that you like too," she grins.

A surge of courage rises through his chest as he tells her that he'd like that a lot too.

Except the thing that falls out of his mouth instead is, "I like you too."

She blinks.

He blinks back, realization settling in like a dull ache in his stomach.

Horror sweeps through him. Oh no.

It hadn't been in his plan to expose himself like this, exposing himself like a dog who wants a tummy rub, but then again there's no sign of rejection that flickers across Y/N's face, which he takes as a good sign as he fumbles for the right words, "uhm, I-- I mean, I didn't mean--"

"You didn't mean that?"

"What?" His eyes widen, "no no! Of course I mean it, I just--"

He gasps at his own words, cupping a hand over his mouth as the girl before him explodes into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

"Oh my gosh," her eyes crinkle up into those adorable crescents of hers, "you're so cute."

Scarlet pink blossoms across his cheeks. Averting his eyes, he wishes that the floor can just come and swallow him up right there and then.

"Right," clearing his throat, one hand reaches up to scratch his ear, "well, I-I'll just go--"

He's halfway turning around when Y/N's hand trickles through his, as gentle as water flowing through his fingertips.

"Wait," she murmurs.

His breath stalls. Inhaling a soft breath, he slowly shuffles back, not daring to meet her gaze when he feels like he's just put his heart on the table for her to do with as she pleases.

Her voice is a gentle breath of a whisper, "don't go."

And then, she's up on her tippy toes and pressing a light kiss to his cheek. Mingi's skin practically lights on fire as another round of butterflies erupt in his chest at her touch, and he can't help but stare down at her, jaw slack, as she gives him the shyest smile he's ever seen.

Cute! His mind screams. Cute cute cute!

"So," Mingi's mind comes back into focus upon hearing her voice, eyes finding her biting down onto her lower lip, “Well, uh--I guess--I guess this means I--I like you, or something.”

"uhm,” his ears are so hot with heat he feels they might fall off as he forces himself not to gawk at her, though it’s proving to be quite difficult as he’s trying to muster the courage to come out with a reasonable answer. 

“I--well, uh--how does this--I don't know--do you want to...uh possibly,” he swallows thickly, before exhaling the words in a rush,”...goouttodinnerwithme?"

Y/N blinks in confusion, "I'm sorry?"

Come on, Mingi! He thinks to himself in growing desperation. Don't be such a wimp!

"Do you... want to...go out with me? S--Sometime?" His throat is clogged with so much embarrassment he fear he might choke.

But when he feels soft fingers trace his chin, he looks up, right into her dark brown eyes sparkling with a tinge of playfulness, excitement and naked joy brimming at the corners.

"I'd love that," she whispers.

And she lifts herself up once more to land a kiss on his mouth, softly, shyly, a mere brushing her mouth against his.

Mingi stumbles upon impact, hands unconsciously grasping her waist as his back comes in contact with the railing lining her porch.

His eyes are wide when she pulls away, biting her lower lip like she can't help but feel nervous from this bold action that has taken him by surprise.

"What--" Mingi chokes on his words, lapses into silence while staring down at her.

The girl merely glances down. A blush taints her cheeks and even though his fingers are shaking and he feels like his heart is about to jump out of his chest at the mere prospect of their closeness, his body moves before his brain does.

Closing the gap between them, it's his turn to press a kiss now, a chaste one that tells her that he reciprocates these feelings wholeheartedly. And Y/N responds by wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him closer so that their chests touch, mouths moving slowly in harmony as they chase each other and mold together in a way that leaves Mingi breathless and his heart stuttering like he's just won a race.

If it is, then it's the most importance race of his life.

It is only when they pull apart, breathing into each other with barely millimetres separating their mouths, that he can't help but laugh at the realization that this girl in his arms is his.

"What?" She says while smiling up at him. So gorgeous, so breathtaking. And she's his.

"Nothing," he can sense the heat flooding his cheeks once more, "I just-- I'm just...happy."

And there it is, that same smile that he loves so much. The smile that holds magical words and countless secrets to the amazing mind she beholds. He can't want to delve into her thoughts and pick at her brain, knowing that all of them are going to be precious memories he'll hold dear to his heart.

That smile.

Hongjoong's voice suddenly erupts out of nowhere like a nightmare, "don't think I didn't see you guys kissing out there!"

---

I’m so whipped for Mingi and he’s like 2 years younger so I feel like such an old noona *sighs*. 

Anyway, let me know if you’d like more Ateez content! <3 Stay safe guys, and thanks for reading! 

[majesticbrownjawn]

The Best Man

Things get complicated when the best man looks like him ⬆️ But probably not complicated in the way you’re thinking.

Oldie from Wattpad. ‼️Chris=Erik‼️ I ain’t feel like going thru and changing his name. Deal with it. I wrote it with Erik in mind though. Enjoy boos❤️

——————————

His hands unashamedly gripped her ass, making her jump in shock.

"We can't do this Chris..." her voice faded out in the most unconvincing way, letting him know she was enjoying the moment as much as he was. When he pressed his lips against hers, she kissed him back, forgetting where she was and focused on his tongue entering her mouth. Ms. Johnson was quickly brought back down to Earth when her phone started vibrating in her hand, reminding her it was almost time for the mother/son dance. Sanai was a stickler for things being on schedule and wanted everything to be perfect for Bryan's big day, which to her meant keeping to the strict time table she mapped out.

She finally broke away from the younger man, staring him down with a frustrated look before disappearing into the large crowd of people to find her pursuer's best friend and the groom--her son.

***

Sanai Johnson was a woman with a plan, well, at least since she had become a mother at the age of 16. She fell in love with her son's father, August, and she thought he felt the same until he disappeared six months into her pregnancy. He was from the other side of the tracks, the "right" side. His parents were wealthy and he had earned a scholarship to a prestigious university a few hours away. When he finally showed up fours years later begging for Sanai to take him back so they could be a family, it was way too little, too late. From the moment he stepped back into their lives, he proved to be a great father to Bryan, and that was all she wanted from him. He on the other hand, had just stopped confessing his love for her just over a year ago before their son's 25th birthday--when he showed up to Bryan's party with a woman who looked just a few years older than the birthday boy himself.

It was funny, after all these years of refusing him, Sanai was actually contemplating giving August another chance and then he shows up with with some young girl. Oh well, she thought. She had bigger fish to fry, like planning the wedding she never got to have. It's not that she couldn't have gotten married in the past or sometime in the future for that matter, she was still in her early 40s, but could easily pass for someone a decade younger. She'd loss count of all the times people mistook her for Bryan's sister. Her buxom figure, glowing skin and beautiful features added to her appeal, but she always fell just shy of being completely confident in her appearance.

Where she lacked confidence in the physical, she made up for it in business and street smarts. While August was doing God knows what those four years in college, she graduated from high school early and started working at a museum. Little did she know she'd fall in love with art history and would later become one of the most sought after and well paid art curators in the country. She got to where she was by working hard and staying focused, which for her didn't leave much room for romance.

The wedding weekend had finally come and the guests had started to arrive at her large estate. She planned a series of events designed to make the large 250 person guest list feel a little smaller. This first event, brunch, was purposely hosted at her home to make everyone feel a little more comfortable mingling and getting to know each other.

"Chris!" Bryan was ecstatic to see his best friend who was more like a big brother to him. He flew across the foyer and embraced Chris, who he hadn't seen in almost three years. The two met when Bryan was in the 7th grade and Chris was in the 10th grade at a basketball camp. Chris was Bryan's counselor and the youngster immediately took to the older boy, following him around and following his lead in almost anything he did, except when Chris moved to China. Ms. Johnson wasn't having that. Both men studied business at the same university and started learning Chinese in high school, continuing through college. After graduating, Chris decided to take a job in Beijing making just under seven figures at a budding tech start-up.

"It's been too long, man." Chris was just as excited to see his friend, but was always more reserved than him, being careful to save his energy for just the right time. He knew this weekend would be full of exciting and possibly emotionally draining moments, so he decided to ease his way in.

"So your mom got it like this now? No wonder she invited the wedding party to stay here. This place is massive." He looked around absolutely impressed with his surroundings.

"I know right? When's the last time you've seen her? Like right after I graduated?"

"Yea--high school, I think. Maybe when you moved into your dorm freshman year."

"Well, she's around here somewhere. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you. Let me show you where you'll be staying."

***

Sanai was the kind of woman who always had things under control, but her son's wedding had her out of sorts. She was so hell-bent on everything being perfect that she was stressing about every little detail. She did a self-check about 30 minutes ago, realizing her worries were affecting the time she was having, so she took a couple mimosas to the head to take the edge off.

After settling in, Chris made his way back downstairs and gave himself a tour of the home. Along the way, there was a woman who he couldn't stop looking at from afar as she weaved in and out of the crowd. The red dress she wore was what caught his eye first. Then as he closed in on her, her familiar smile pulled him in, making him wonder if he and Bryan went to college with her because she seemed to know a lot of people here. He approached her from behind, placing his hand on the small of her back and leaned into her, introducing himself.

"Hi, I'm Chris. Do I know you? You look so familiar." When she turned around and he finally got an up close look at her, he immediately knew who she was. "Ms. Johnson?"

She smiled and answered, "In the flesh." Instead of letting her go, he froze, still holding her close as she now faced him.

"Uh, uh--it's good to see you," he finally spoke up, his arm still holding her tight. "You haven't aged a day. You're so...beautiful," he blurted out. It was like he was seeing her for the time. In a way he was, this was his first time seeing her as a man.

"Thank you, Chris. It's good to see you too," she replied blandly, gently patting him on his chest, trying to release herself from his grip. Despite trying to get away from him, Sanai certainly noticed what a handsome man Chris had become. She was on the taller side for a woman, but he easily towered over her at 6'4". His frame was full, with just the right amount of grown man thickness she liked. The rest of brunch Sanai was slightly distracted by Chris, partly because she was so shocked at how much he'd grown up and also because she thought she caught him watching her. It was probably just her imagining things.

That night after dinner at the house with the bridal party, Sanai was cleaning up the living area when she felt a quiet presence enter the space.

"Can I help, Ms. Johnson?"

"Oh, please call me Sanai, you're grown now, Chris."

"Ok. So tell me Sanai, what's your secret?" She looked at him confused. "I meant what I said earlier. You haven't aged. It's incredible. You look incredible." He didn't try to hide the fact that his eyes couldn't stop taking her body in.

She blushed at his comment but tried her best not to act phased by his repeated mention of her looks.

"Well, you certainly have changed."

"I hope that's a good thing," he smirked. "How are you dealing with Bryan getting married? I assume it can't be easy to let go of your only child. And you're single, right? I'm sure you've thought about how lonely it may get, him not being around as much."

"Bryan has been on his own for a while now. I'll manage."

"How?"

"How what?"

"How will you manage, Ms. Johnson?" His tone seemed a bit suggestive, but she figured maybe it was the wine she drank playing tricks on her.

He was, of course being suggestive in the slightest way. His immediate attraction her earlier today threw him off initially, but that wasn't going to happen again this weekend. He decided everything else he'd say and hopefully do to her his weekend would be very deliberate.

"I mean, I'm sure you have needs, right?" He moved closer to her, so close that she had no choice but to look at him As his tilted his head sideways at her seductively.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"I think you know exactly what I mean, Sanai." Chris' hand slowly traced up the side of her body, carefully following the curve of her hip upwards, stopping just below her bust. She watched his hand closely, allowing his touch to send a shiver up her spine.

"Your behavior is so inappropriate Chris." She said it so sternly that he momentarily forgot he was a grown ass man now who could pursue her without worrying about getting in 'trouble.'

He lifted his hands in surrender and openly watched her as she nervously cleaned up a few more things before heading upstairs. He noticed the way her breathing picked up when he touched her. The goosebumps on her arms told him she enjoyed his hands on her, despite her calling his actions "inappropriate." Chris laid in the bed that night, thinking about her and trying his best to ignore the nagging feeling of his dick hard-pressed against his shorts. The hornier and unsatisfied he was, he figured, the more persistent he'd be about getting a taste of Ms. Johnson.

***

The following afternoon, the bridal party gathered in the foyer of Sanai's home to learn the tango for the reception. After the instructor paired everyone up, Sanai noticed Chris was missing, but remembered he didn't have a partner because as the best man, it was his job to walk the grandmothers and her down the aisle.

"Looking for me?" She jumped at the sound of his voice.

"No, Chris. Why would I be?" She figured if she acted like she was uninterested in his attention that he'd leave her alone. She had another thing coming though. The more time Chris spent in her presence, the more his desire for her increased. Even if he wasn't able to see straight through her hard-to-get act, it wouldn't have stopped him from doing all he could to get her.

He bent down and bowed, lifting his hand to hers, "May I have this dance?" He grabbed her hand but she quickly yanked it away.

"Come on, don't be like that, Sanai."

"Maybe you should call me Ms. Johnson after all."

"I'll call you whatever you want. Just dance with me. Please." He was a little surprised when she took his hand and stood close to him. He took the lead, already familiar with the sensual dance. His hand rested low on her back and he used it to push her lower half into his. Front to front, Sanai could feel Chris' bulge brushing up against her as they moved across the foyer.

"You know I had a crush on you back in the day right?" He whispered closely to her face.

"Excuse me?" She cackled at his comment but he pulled her closer, feeling like she'd walk away from him at any second.

"Honestly, I wasn't even tryna be Bryan's friend at first when we were kids...I just needed an excuse to be around you," he continued. "You were just so creative and kind. I didn't know a mother could be so damn beautiful." Sanai blushed at his memory of her.

"I used to love to come over so I could see you walk around the house in those baggy t-shirts with no bra. Watching you in them little ass shorts had me on hard every time. I can't tell you how many times I had wet dreams about you, Ms. Johnson."

Sanai could feel Chris' excitement pressing up against her. Wisdom urged her to break away from him, but her body begged her to stay put. It had been so long since she allowed a man to be this close to her. And he just smelled and looked so good.

"Are you serious? Why are you telling me this now?" She shouldn't have asked, but her curiosity and her attraction to him was getting the best of her.

"Because it's the truth...and because I always fantasize about being close to you, just like this." The pair was face to face, their foreheads pressed against the other's. Lucky for them, no one would think anything of it because the tango called for that intimate positioning.

"You always fantasize? Or you used to?" She asked her question while looking him square in the eyes.

"Can I cut in?" Bryan's father looked at Chris suspiciously for a moment before taking Sanai's hand and trying to shake off the notion that his son's best friend was doing what it looked like he was doing—pushing up on Sanai. Their interaction would have looked innocent to the average person, but August recognized game when he saw it. He stayed close to Sanai the rest of the day just in case his suspicions about Chris were correct.

***

Hey, can you come downstairs for a minute please?

The text came in to Sanai's phone after 1 a.m. that night.

Who is this?

Guess 😈

I don't have time for games. Who is this?

It's Chris. I want to apologize.

Sanai made her way downstairs cautiously, as not to wake anyone in the house. When she laid eyes on him, she immediately knew she was in trouble. Chris wore a pair of silk pajama pants that left little for her to imagine about how girthy he was and the way his arms looked in the wife beater he wore was already doing things to her.

"He's Bryan's best friend..." She reminded herself as she approached him.

"Do you always talk to yourself?"

"Don't be cute, Chris."

"I hope I'm cute to you."

"I thought you want to apologize for your behavior?"

"Oh yea, I do." The pair was whispering trying not to wake anyone, especially Bryan. It would be hard to explain why they were down here whispering at this hour. Her home was large enough that no one would have heard them anyway, but that fact eluded them both in the moment. "Is there somewhere we can talk without having to whisper?" he asked.

She looked him over trying to decide if she could trust him being alone with her. He'd been so bold the last few days.

She decided she probably couldn't trust him, but still answered, "Sure, follow me."

***

So there are three, maybe four 🤔completed parts to this miniseries but the series itself isn’t completed. Hopefully posting this here will motivate me to finally finish it (it’s been like two years 🥴) I know y’all are waiting on Delicte part 4. Wrote on it some tonight and plan to have it up in the next week. Thanks for reading🖤

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I Could Be Your Sometimes Part Six

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only Notes: Set before the series; not beta-read Thank you to everyone that’s liked and read this!! Warnings: Eventual infidelity and sexual content. If you dislike this, please don’t read. Thank you. Chapter-specific warnings: None Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader Summary: Why did that name sound familiar?

"Jesus christ, you look fine,” Nora rolled her eyes as I did a small spin for the camera. “Are you sure?” I asked, taking a step back to make sure Nora could see the entire outfit over FaceTime. it was the third suit I’d tried on, and I was no closer to deciding what I was going to wear. “Hon, I love you, and I know you want to look professional, but you’re driving me crazy. Besides, I’ve never seen you look unprofessional,” Nora added, resting her chin on her hand, “My vote still goes for for the grey suit. I mean the one you have on now is a good look, but the waistcoat might be pushing it, ya know?” I looked down at said waistcoat, tugging at the bottom of it. “I guess,” I grumbled. Nora rolled her eyes. “Just-- Don’t be so worried about it, kid. Go over your notes a couple of times if it’ll make you feel better, but besides that, relax, okay?” "Alright. See you in the morning, Nor,” I smiled. “Night, worry-wart,” Nora stuck her tongue out at me before hanging up the call.

I turned away from my phone to look myself over in the full-length mirror in my room. Nora was right, the waistcoat was definitely just a touch too much.

-- I arrived at the DA’s office at 9 - the talk wasn’t set until 10:30, but I preferred to get an unfamiliar conference room early, get a better feel for the space, go over my notes, even if it meant making small talk for a few minutes beforehand. I knew that Nora would arrive soon enough, it would be fine. Nora had made the right call - I was wearing a light grey pantsuit, as well as a white button down. I’d decided to chance it with a cup of coffee, but I hadn’t spilled a drop (yet - I always dropped a ‘yet’ on the end of that statement. With me, there was always a chance).

The receptionist that had shown to the conference room had reassured me that there wasn’t any other conference booked for the space, so I wouldn’t have to worry about needing to find somewhere else to go over my notes. I set myself up at the end of a conference table, close to the screen. “Oh-- I hope I’m not interrupting.” I looked up to see a man standing in the doorway. I glanced at my watch. 9:40 - still plenty of time. “No, not interrupting at all,” I flashed him a smile. He came into the room, letting the door close behind himself. “Here for the seminar?” He asked. “Yes, I’m actually running it. I’m from Tactician,” I said. The man’s brows rose, and he came closer, holding his hand out to me. “Neal Loguidice,” He introduced himself. Why did that name sound familiar? “Hi,” I greeted, shaking his hand. “May I?” He asked, gesturing to the seat beside mine. 29 other seats in that conference room and he wanted to sit in the one directly beside mine. “You’re just trying to see all my notes in advance,” I teased before nodding to the seat and adding, “Go right ahead.” Even if I wanted to tell him that he had plenty of other seats to pick from, I definitely couldn’t. I lowered myself back into my seat, pulling my chair in to give Neal room to slide in behind me. He settled in beside me, opening his laptop and notebook. We worked in amiable silence for a few minutes before he spoke up again: “Andy said that your firm was instrumental in his defense for the Warren case.” Apparently he’d mentioned that to a reporter, too, and Nora had been called for a comment. It had started a wave of requests for information regarding our trainings. “Yeah, I cut back on that section of the presentation for you guys because I figured you’ve had to hear a lot about it lately,” I said. Neal chuckled, shifting in his seat to look at me. “Well, I appreciate that,” He smiled. I returned the smile. He was... Cute. He had dark, warm eyes; his neatly-coiffed hair seemed a little at odds with his five o’clock shadow. Neal and I got talking - about work, about Newton, about his case load and how many requests for proposals I’d taken on the last month. “You’re here early.” My attention was drawn away by Andy coming through the door. He had a cup of coffee in one hand, his laptop tucked under his arm. His eyes darted from me to Neal, and his smile wilted to something a little less hospitable. I glanced at the time. “I mean, we do start in fifteen minutes,” I pointed out, “Being late would be a pretty bad look, Barber.” Andy set his things down at the seat across from mine, glancing between me and Neal. “I don’t think I’ve ever been into Harvey’s,” Neal said, continuing the conversation we’d been having. I turned to look at him again. “They’re not too far from here, over on Cedar and Sixth? Food’s not too salty, and they’re open pretty late.” “You would know,” Andy muttered just loudly enough for us to hear. I looked up at the ceiling, refusing to look at Andy. When I looked at Neal again, I found his brows raised, curious. I shook my head a little bit. "My late-night go to is usually Chinese food. There’s a place around the corner  from here that’s got some of the best dumplings I’ve ever had,” Neal went on. "I love dumplings! Why are we talking about them?” Nora asked coming into the conference room, a cup of coffee in hand. She caught sight of Andy, smiling. “Morning, Mr. Barber.” “Morning, Ms. Abrahms.” Nora beckoned me toward her, and I excused myself. “You look settled in,” She commented. “Well, I’ve been here for almost an hour and a half, so,” I commented, tucking my hands into my pockets. “And your shirt is coffee-free. I’m incredibly impressed,” Nora teased. I leaned against the wall, shrugging. “For now. My shirt’s coffee free for now.” Nora grinned, shaking her head. “Your pitch skills are incredible but your hands would be less shaky if you drank less coffee.” “My pitch skills wouldn’t be as incredible if I drank less coffee. Keep up, Nora,” I teased. I peered around her, waving people in as they began to trickle into the room. -- “That was excellent,” Lynn was pumping my hand with politician-like photo-op efficiency; I was vaguely aware of their PR person taking a picture of us, and Nora muscling in beside them to get one for herself. “We appreciate the opportunity to come and work with you guys,” I smiled. Lynn patted my shoulder before dropping my hand and excusing herself. Half of the attendants had already filed out of the room. I stepped back over to my laptop, closing it and beginning to pack my things away. "Well, that was informative," Neal said; he had yet to get up from his seat.

"I'm choosing to take that as a compliment, Mr. Loguidice," I glanced at him. He chuckled, nodding. "It was certainly meant as one. And please, it's Neal," He said, standing and drawing himself up to his full height. "Well, then, thank you," I chuckled, pulling my coat on. "Back to the office?" He asked. I nodded. "I have work to do." "No time to stop for another cup of coffee or... Or lunch, maybe?" Neal asked, gathering his laptop and notebook before he turned to look at me. I arched a brow, shifting my bag on my shoulder. "Something from the seminar that I didn't explain clearly enough?" I asked. Neal smiled a little. "If that'll get you to say yes," He nodded. "Ready to go?" I turned to see Nora standing with her things, Andy close behind. "Andy has offered to take us out to lunch at Harvey's," She added. I shot Andy a glance before turning back to Neal, tipping my head to the side. "I've been meaning to try Harvey's," Neal said simply, hand brushing over my shoulders as he stepped past me, "I'll grab my coat." Nora and I turned to watch Neal leave the room; neither of us missed the split-second narrowing of Andy’s eyes as Neal passed him. -- Lunch was incredibly awkward - at least, I wasn't sure how it could've been worse. Andy and I had taken the seats across from one another by the window, and Neal had slid in beside me before Nora had the chance. Nora had mostly been able to keep the conversation moving throughout. But when there had been the odd... Lull, let's say, I could see Neal and Andy almost sizing each other up. As soon as we'd sat down, Andy had done as he had a few weeks ago, hooked his foot around my ankle and kept that contact up. Neal had pressed in close on my side, thigh pressed against mine, arm nudging me now and again to draw my attention - usually away from whatever Andy was saying. When he’d done that, Andy’s leg would brush against mine, reminding me of our anchoring where the others couldn’t see. I didn't know what their game of cat and mouse was, but I didn't think I liked being part of it. -- (8:39 PM) AB: Busy? I glanced at the text on my phone and rolled my eyes. Of course I was busy. I'd lost three hours of my day to giving that seminar at his job. (8:42) Yep (8:45) AB: Hungry? 

(8:45) Nope

(8:46) AB: Need some company? I hesitated in answering that one, typing out a few different answers and deleting them all. I finally settled on sending, (8:52) I think you meant to send that one to your wife.

--

For all of the efforts I had made to put distance between myself and Andy both physically and emotionally, my attraction to him hadn’t budged. If anything, it had gotten worse. My stupid brain had gone beyond obsessing over the details of our conversations - I had dreams about the guy. They weren’t odd ones, either, where there’s some whacky circumstance and you just happened to notice him in the background. They usually had to do with touching him, kissing him, being in less-than-innocent and incredibly compromising positions with him. I’d out a cap on fantasizing about him in my free time, but apparently my subconscious hadn’t gotten the memo. It probably didn’t help that I hadn’t been with anyone in a while, and that Andy was incredibly attractive, and still talking to me, despite the fact that my recent texts and had been snippy or flat. But maybe it was the fact that when we were together, we did touch. I thought about our hug when we’d gone to dinner weeks before, and his foot hooked around my ankle, holding my attention in a way neither Nora nor Neal knew about. I could’ve pulled away from him, kept my...Leg to myself, but I wanted that contact. Even with Neal at my side, nudging me now and again, I wanted it from Andy. It wasn’t about the touches themselves. I wanted him.

[littlemisswonton]

How Shanghai is losing its mother tongue

In the past 20 years, Shanghai has surged to become an international commercial, cultural and transport hub with eye-opening speed. While gaining worldwide attention with its fast-growing economy and skyscrapers, the megacity is quickly - and silently - losing a precious part of its own: its mother tongue.

The Shanghai dialect is a part of an ancient language family, Wu Chinese, which originated in eastern China some 2,500 years ago and is spoken by roughly 80million people today.

Known for its soft and elegant sound, Wu Chinese is not mutually intelligible with Mandarin, which is based on the Beijing dialect. And because Wu Chinese has preserved some ancient pronunciations non-existent in Mandarin, classic Chinese literature from hundreds of years ago - such as popular poems from Tang and Ming dynasties - would sound more authentic and rhythmical when being read in it.

The Shanghai dialect, also known as Shanghainese, is a young but prominent member of Wu Chinese due to Shanghai’s prosperity as a colonial trading port between the mid 19th and 20th century. It was a fashionable tongue in the pre-Communist China and introduced many then-trendy Western items to Chinese people’s life through phonetic translation, for example “vez lin” for Vaseline, “fa le niong” for flannel and “kes mi” for cashmere.

It was associated with intellectual, entertainment and political icons, such as novelist Eileen Chang, singer Zhou Xuan and “the mother of modern China” Soong Ching-ling. It also spawned opera, comedy and entertainment productions enjoyed by generations of Shanghai dwellers.

But the distinct lingo, which could be heard in the city’s every nook and cranny up until three decades ago, is struggling to survive the rapid modernisation that has propelled Shanghai to its global status today.

(Soong Ching-ling, the wife of Sun Yat-Sen, was born in Shanghai and spoke the Shanghai dialect all her life. The above picture of her, via Wikimedia, was taken by British photographer Sir Cecil Beaton during the Second World War in China’s wartime capital, Chungking.)

A 2016 survey showed that only 30 per cent of Shanghai residents would use the Shanghai dialect in their daily conversation, while more than half of the locals preferred to speak Mandarin, China’s official language. Another study from 2017 found that nearly 80 per cent of local youngsters between the ages of six and 20 could not speak their mother tongue fluently, highlighting a sombre cultural crisis.

The dialect’s popularity was dealt with a sudden blow in 1992 when the central government launched a hard-hitting campaign to “promote Mandarin”. Aimed to establish a lingua franca for the country, the language movement, however, imposed heavy restrictions on the use of Shanghainese in Shanghai.

Among a list of mandatory rules, school children must receive lessons in Mandarin and were banned from speaking dialect in class and during breaks. Besides, public servants and service industry staff must stick to Mandarin at work. A few years later in 2001, Shanghainese programmes, beloved by the locals at the time, were pulled from TV and radio stations by a language law.  Only a few opera and comedy shows were permitted to be run in dialect.

Propaganda slogans, such as “Learn Mandarin, be a civilised person” and “Speak Mandarin is the symbol of civilisation”, appeared ubiquitously in Shanghai during the 1990s and early 2000s, leaving many youngsters feeling ashamed of using dialect.

Some of those compulsory policies were in place for more than a decade, others still remain effective.

(The above photo, via Vmenkov/Wikimedia, shows a ‘Mandarin-promoting’ slogan outside a kindergarten in Shanghai. It reads: ‘Everybody, please speak Mandarin, and standardise the language and writing.)

Qian Nairong, a Chinese language professor at Shanghai University, views the school ban a major cause of the dialect’s decline. He notes that the city’s primary school pupils were prohibited from speaking the Shanghai dialect on campus from the 1990s for over 10 years. As a result, several generations of Shanghai children grew up unable to express themselves well in their mother tongue.

“The inheritance of Shanghainese has met a rift when it comes to people born after 1985,” lamented Prof Qian during an interview with China News.

The ardent Shanghainese promoter authored a comprehensive dictionary in 2007 in a bid to romanise the dialect and standardise its written form. Five years later, he penned a petition with 81 other scholars, calling authorities to set up systematic regulations to protect Shanghainese.

Unfortunately, these grass-rooted efforts are yet to yield substantial changes in the government’s directives. Moreover, they might have come a little too late to alter millennials’ communication style.

Wang Kanyu, a 30-year-old Shanghai author, admits that it is difficult for her to hold a conversation purely in the Shanghai dialect because she talks to her friends and colleagues mostly in Mandarin.

Born in 1990 to a local family, Ms Wang began her primary school education in 1997 and was strictly forbidden from speaking the dialect by her teachers.

“I remember we promoted the using of Mandarin in my primary school. We had rankings with stars for pupils in our class. If anyone spoke Shanghainese, they would have a star taken away from them,” Ms Wang explains slowly using the Shanghai dialect.

“In middle and high school, all of my classmates were from Shanghai, but few of them would talk to each other in Shanghainese because most had got used to using Mandarin.”

She says as she grew up, she rarely conversed in Shanghainese with anyone outside her family. “Therefore, I am not accustomed to speaking it now. Besides, I feel that I cannot speak it well,” adds Ms Wang.

(I was among the very last generation of Shanghai children to be taught predominantly in my mother tongue throughout my school years. Above is my kindergarten graduation photo taken in the summer of 1989. I am in the front row, the fifth to the left.)

Apart from the tough Mandarin mandate, Shanghai’s swiftly shifting demographics pose as a challenge.

The city’s population ballooned by a third between 1998 and 2018, largely due to an influx of migrants from around the nation in search for work and better life. In other words, more than eight million out of Shanghai’s current 24million citizens did not grow up speaking the Shanghai dialect and rely on Mandarin to communicate in their daily life.

Huang Peide, a 37-year-old native, considers this a primary factor that prevents many Shanghai locals from using dialect.

“It is not that Shanghai people don’t speak Shanghainese any more. The fact is they have fewer and fewer people to speak it with,” Mr Huang points out using a mixture of the Shanghai dialect and Mandarin.

He says: “Environment can change people. For example, for people born after the 1980s, many of their friends, colleagues and clients are not from Shanghai. If they talk in Shanghainese, the listeners can’t understand. So what can you do?”

Mr Huang and his wife, both born in Shanghai, are encouraging their eight-year-old son to communicate with them in Shanghainese at home, “but he sometimes uses it, sometimes doesn’t”.

The father notes that around a third of his son’s classmates are from non-Shanghai-native families, and some 30 per cent of the teachers are non-Shanghainese speakers. Therefore it would not be practical for his son to speak the tongue while in school.

“In daily life, I insist teaching him the dialect, but he doesn’t have the environment to use it outside our home,” Mr Huang admits.

(The Shanghai dialect, or Shanghainese, could be heard in every nook and cranny of the city up until three decades ago. This picture, circulating on social media and believed to be taken in the early 1990s, shows pedestrians and cyclists on Nanjing Xi Road near the Jing’an Temple.)

Prof Qian believes it has become “urgent” to protect Shanghainese and the “key” is to encourage Shanghai youngsters to converse in it.

“The inheritance of a language relies on people, especially children,” the 75-year-old urged in a recent column. “We must let Shanghai pupils bring Shanghainese, which they have spoken with their parents since infancy, to their schools freely and allow it (the dialect) to be used after class. This is the key to passing forward Shanghainese.”

The academic, who has also developed a Shanghainese input method for computer users, stresses that promotion of Shanghainese is not aimed at marginalising Mandarin, but to build a society where the two can co-exist in a “harmonious” way.

“‘Bilingual people’ who can switch between Shanghainese and Mandarin can, for sure, have a more smooth, natural and free life in Shanghai. Furthermore, there are more and more occasions for [people to use] English. Therefore, Shanghai will certainly become a ‘multi-lingual’ society,” Prof Qian writes. “… In a diverse society, we need to build a harmonious, ‘multi-lingual’ life. Mandarin and Shanghainese can achieve a ‘win-win’ situation in Shanghai.”

Prof Qian’s comments echo the social stigma Shanghai locals face while talking to strangers in dialect. Out of fear that the addressees would not understand Shanghainese, and thus they would be regarded as “discriminating against migrants” - a sensitive topic in today’s Chinese society – many have now abandoned Shanghainese entirely in public and at work.

Mandy Chen, an analyst for a Fortune 500 firm in Shanghai, considers the discrimination topic “an interesting social discussion”.

“Normally, if we go to a less-fortunate place and hear the locals talk in their dialect, you won’t think they are discriminating against you. But if we go to a more developed area and hear the local use their dialect, you might feel that they are excluding you,” says the 36-year-old “new Shanghai citizen”, who can understand Shanghainese but has not actively learnt it.

(The Shanghai dialect spawned opera, comedy and entertainment productions enjoyed by generations of Shanghai dwellers. This picture shows Shanghainese stand-up comedy legends Yao Mushuang, right, and Zhou Baichun, left.)

Ms Chen grew up in northern China’s Inner Mongolia and has lived in Shanghai for 10 years on and off after moving to the city for university. She says she doesn’t mind - sometimes even prefers – her friends and colleagues speaking Shanghainese to her. But she acknowledges that some non-natives would, indeed, feel being looked down upon if spoken to in Shanghainese.

“This is more a psychological issue of the listener than a language issue. Often, the speaker doesn’t have any intention to show prejudice against the listener. It could be that they sound cold naturally,” she explains.

While the lingo-in-crisis is yet to be officially allowed in school or added into the curriculum, many of the city’s community schools have set up Shanghainese courses intended for “new Shanghai citizens” who moved to the city from other places.

“To pay more attention to teaching Shanghainese to new Shanghai citizens would be very beneficial to their children’s adoption of Shanghainese,” Prof Qian pens.

Ms Chen confesses that if she has a child in Shanghai, she would be happy to learn Shanghainese and the Shanghainese culture together with her son or daughter, so “my child can somehow relate to Shanghai as their hometown”.

She says that due to her family background, she grew up speaking only Mandarin. Still, she supports the idea of protecting Shanghainese because dialect is “a symbol of a region” and “a bridge between a person and their native culture”.

“I don’t wish to see Shanghai children unable to understand Shanghainese one day. It would be very unfortunate. For one thing, many cultural nuances and household gossips can only be expressed thoroughly through dialect,” Ms Chen points out in Mandarin. “In this regard, I am a sad example. If you ask me to talk, I can only use Mandarin.”

[funnuraba]

A Rough Moral Overview of Archie Comics: Teen Propaganda Machine

Part 1: The 1940s

1941: Archie first appears in a small feature near the end of PEP Comics #22. His popularity builds rapidly, with the audience apparently writing in to express immense interest in the short monthly Archie comic.

At first the Archie story isn’t even mentioned on the cover, but Archie himself slowly starts appearing on the cover, always with PEP’s big star at the time, The Shield. The Shield on the cover is at first much larger than Archie, but he shrinks over time, and after Veronica’s introduction, she and Betty start to feature on covers as well. The Shield continues shrinking...

And by issue #49, the magazine is PEP Comics: Starring Archie Andrews! Archie quickly becomes its own imprint, and the only one of PEP’s lineup that survives into the present day. Ads in the magazine advertise an Archie radio show that was spurred by what was a apparently a massive outpouring of interest from PEP’s teenage subscribers. The concept of teenagerhood itself was a new invention dating from 1944. Archie’s reality included things like school, dating, and modern teen problems like trying to maintain a car and deal with wartime rationing.

Also, sending your dog to fight Nazis. (Note: the above are two separate stories; no Nazis ever actually invaded Riverdale. Oscar, Archie’s dog, gave birth on at least two occasions, including during her army tour, and eventually faded from existence.)

At this stage, minstrel-style caricatures of black men appear on occasion in Riverdale (as train attendants and no-account bums who steal clothing out of the trash), and Yellow Peril-style caricatures of Japanese people are a regular fixture in other PEP features like “Captain Commando and the Boy Soldiers”. As a side note, Chinese people are depicted quite differently in Captain Commando. At this point in US history, they were seen as important potential allies in the war against the Japanese. In Captain Commando, they’re drawn like actual humans in comparison to Japanese soldiers. One story shows a Chinese warrior who’s been bamboozled by foolish Buddhist ideals of peace, but finally snaps out of it and gets his followers to join up with US forces in resisting Japanese occupiers. Chinese-Americans were depicted less frequently, but also running in PEP for a time was a rather remarkable depiction (for the time) of a Chinese-American hero: Fu Chang, International Detective. Chinese people would later be collapsed into the Yellow Peril phenomenon in US pop culture and there were some very racist depictions within Archie Comics, but in the 40s there was a different perspective on display for a while.

(Captain Commando and his Boy Soldiers have since lapsed into the public domain; evidently the heroic quality of child soldiers lost its gleam after WWII and reviving the property was never deemed profitable.)

Also in the 40s, many, many stories end with a quite literal punchline in which Archie gets taken out to the woodshed and beaten by his father for causing trouble. This was PEP’s light-hearted humorous fare that apparently spoke quite deeply to a teenage audience of this era. The depiction of corporal punishment is neither “pro” nor “anti”, it’s simply an unavoidable consequence handed down from on high. Archie’s misadventures lead inevitably to physical punishment from an authority figure, no matter how much or how little he’s to blame for things going wrong. Mr. Andrews himself is sometimes a figure of fun during this period, but the 40s and 50s are the time when he most often feels like a self-insert for the writers and artists, who would have been closer to his position in life than Archie’s.

Archie’s position, though, isn’t entirely as the object of abuse. It’s pretty safe to assume that the writers and artists also grew up with corporal punishment and can sympathize with the experience--though they’ve now entered the stage of life where they understand that it was done only for their own good. Archie at the end of these stories is both resentful and rueful; he wishes it hadn’t happened, but there’s no room in the pages of PEP to contemplate a world where it doesn’t have to.

Violence was much more accepted in the 40s, including against the girls themselves--for their own good, in this case, but it’s still jarring to see a man give Betty and Veronica black eyes. Their crime in this case was, of course, being so silly and man-crazy that they nearly drowned him and themselves.

Often the violence was more cartoonish in nature, but it was only in the 40s that you’d see Betty showing up at Veronica’s door with Moe Szyslak’s weapon of choice.

The porter in this panel is one of the kindest portrayals of a black man in this period; the others (and the one depiction of a black woman that I noticed) are frankly unreproducible without heavy content warnings. Also in the 40s, fat and/or ugly women exist only as an object of fun or outright cruelty.

Vague “reducing plans” were advertised in the pages of Archie in the 1940s. This particular method was, as the name suggests, seaweed pills that were also marketed as chewing gum.

You may notice in some stories that the “ugly” and undesirable woman has very nearly the same face as Archie himself; the irony here is very likely unintentional. It’s rarely (seriously) suggested that there’s anything morally wrong with Archie aspiring to a girl much prettier than he is, but an ugly girl expressing interest in any boy is a figure of fun right up into... well, the present day. The Gabby pictured in the panel above her was a semi-recurring character, one of the only plus-size recurring characters ever depicted in Archie. As her name suggests, she was a gossip and one of the undesirable girls, but she was sometimes allowed to be friendly with Veronica or Betty without immediate karmic punishment. She’s also notable because she’s not only one of the only plus-size characters, she’s one of the very few plus-size female or teenage characters. Mr. Andrews, Mr. Weatherbee and Pop Tate all survived the 40s, but Gabby didn’t.

Betty at the inception of “Archie” (the comic) was just Girl. She rather liked Archie and he liked her, and he would try to impress/date her but end up having his monthly funny adventure. But only once Veronica was introduced did she start to gain more dimension, this time as Other Girl. Veronica was rather nice to begin with and it took a short while for them to start getting played off each other as “characters”. There was still little difference. Veronica was always rich and as a result became snooty fairly quickly, but her flaws were the flaws of an object. They existed to create difficulties for Archie, in his struggle to impress her, and Betty was differentiated only by not being snooty.

When Betty and Veronica were allies, it was because Archie had blown it somehow, and they were naturally compelled to be allies by virtue of both being girls. (When they didn’t like each other, it was also because they were both girls, and such was the natural state of being girls.) The panel above--both in the same pose, their identical faces lifted in scorn towards all men--would be echoed in other later stories, whether by chance or by accident.

Their posing in the 40s was frankly pretty ludicrous and transparent in its intentions.

Sexual attraction wasn’t explicitly commented on in the 40s comics in the way we understand “explicit” today, but it’s allowed to exist more openly than in later years. The va-va-voom effect highlighting the breasts would have to become more euphemistic as the decades passed.

In general, there was very little pretense in the 40s.

Artists had no qualms about showing the girls nearly in the nude (I cropped out a panel of Veronica in the bath above), nor about showing adult men leering at them. Even Mr. Weatherbee was occasionally moved by their charms. Generally adult men were “punished” for showing visible attraction, but only in humorous ways. It was more common for the teenage boys to drool over the girls, but the only disapproval shown when grown men did it came from women their own age, playing the role of scold or prudish spinster. There was also the occasional gag in which an adult man was misunderstood as a “masher” or peeper and received undeserved punishment from the supposed target.

There were various write-ups of celebrity activity in the 40s and 50s, and there too the attitudes towards women were pretty much what you’d expect, but even in the late 1940s the realities of life were not entirely veiled from teenage eyes. There was room for what would now be considered adult jokes.

Also in the 40s, Archie cross-dressed, like, a lot, in a way that noticeably vanished once the 50s rolls around. It’s always as a gag, and it’s usually noted that he makes an ugly girl, but in this era it seems to have been an idea that could be poked fun at without threatening the moral fiber of all America by the mere suggestion.

In fact, one semi-famous 1948 story, “The Battle of the Jitterbugs” (reproduced more fully elsewhere) revolves entirely around the girls and the boys competing in a “fair contest’ to see which sex is better at dancing--since boys only lead and girls only follow, it’s impossible to determine who can dance better overall. The obvious solution is for two girls to dance with each other and two boys to dance with each other.

Crucially, the idea is suggested by Reggie, the prankster of the group, framing it as a joke from its inception. Archie, the main character, follows through with it as a means of asserting male superiority. There’s also no possibility that two boys could dance, or two girls could dance, without the conceit of one performing the role of the opposite gender. But in practice, the whole thing does involve a lengthy depiction of two boys dancing together, and indeed, jokingly flirting with each other.

Again, the joke-flirting comes in the form of mocking from Reggie, both en femme and en homme. Archie, the protagonist and everyman, is uncomfortable throughout and finally throws Reggie right out Pop Tate’s door after Reggie goes too far in impugning his masculinity.

At this stage, the usual band of crones step in to punish him for imagined crimes against women, and he finishes the story sitting in bed with a broken leg, making a pronouncement that stands out rather sharply to the modern eye: “Confidentially, Jug! I’m no longer interested in women... or dancing!”

Veronica and Betty are significantly more comfortable with each other. In fact, it’s a rare 1940s story where they don’t quarrel with each other at all! Veronica’s femininity is seemingly unthreatened by the hat and pants, even though Archie Comics would continue issuing dire warnings against women in pants up through the mid-1970s.

It’s hard to imagine they lost after this! The tone of this page is downright celebratory, a rare occasion of early Betty and Veronica working together and coming out the victors of the story, not by one of them winning Archie, but by both of them showing their own skill at something without trying to show the other up. “Battle of the Jitterbugs” is a true rarity in these early years, a depiction of female triumph that doesn’t exactly defy the era’s pop culture as a whole--women were creating their own art even in the 1940s--but it does defy nearly every other Archie story up to the mid-1970s.

[recentanimenews]

INTERVIEW: After 13 Years, Indie RPG Masterpiece Ruina is Finally Available in English

All screenshots of Ruina: Fairy Tale of the Forgotten Ruins taken by author

  This article was made possible through the invaluable contributions of translators Dink and bool, and further aided by context generously provided by writer, translator, and RPG Maker scene dweller Kastel (@kastelwrites). Sections from their answers were excerpted for this piece and edited for clarity and content.

  Last year, at the start of the pandemic, a lapsed member of the RPG Maker community known as Dink stumbled across a screenshot while trawling Japanese free game websites: a black obelisk standing in the midst of ruins. “This is going to make me sound like I've been huffing paint, but this image spoke to something quite visceral for me — like I'd been waiting to find this game. Something about the sepia tones, the light and shadows, the elegance of its very archetype. I knew I had to play it.” Dink had stumbled across Ruina: Haitou no Monogatari (Fairy Tale of the Forgotten Ruins), one of the most acclaimed free RPGs ever made in Japan. Released in the antiquated RPG Maker 2000 engine in 2008 by developer Shoukichi Karekusa, it retains a strong cult following and has even been translated into Chinese. Yet unlike its RPG Maker siblings Yume Nikki and Ib, Ruina is practically unknown in English-speaking countries. Dink decided to change that.  “Once I realized that it had yet to be translated into English,” he said, “it was like I’d become possessed.”

  Ruina is unique. A role-playing game that takes direct influence from tabletop games and gamebooks, it boldly defies conventions established by classic console role-playing games like Dragon Quest and Final Fantasy. Rather than controlling the main character across a top-down map, the player slowly uncovers a hand-illustrated map of nodes. Survival in the dungeon requires the use of ropes, pickaxes, and oil for your lantern, resources that are all expendable. Your party members are valuable not only for their combat skills but for their out-of-combat abilities: thieving, sneaking, even swimming. Most of all, Ruina allows for choice and consequence, a phenomenon far more common in western RPGs than Japanese RPGs. Say you stumble across treasure in a dungeon, but are ambushed by thieves who want the treasure for themselves. Do you give the treasure to the thieves? Stand your ground? Or attack the thieves before they can do the same to you? Since your ability to save in the dungeon is heavily rationed, you may find yourself having to choose between restarting a save or living with the messy outcomes of your choices.

    There’s something to Ruina that grounds it in the Japanese RPG tradition, rather than a straightforward riff on Wizardry or Might & Magic. Those earlier games gave you several choices as to building your party, but little in the way of story or character. Ruina is a far more curated experience. On starting the game, you’re offered four “backgrounds” that align you with certain other characters, just one year before Dragon Age: Origins would pull a similar trick. Rather than being given the full freedom to explore a sprawling world, your options are limited to navigating a single, contained dungeon. The characters available to be recruited into your party have defined personalities and quirks — some are already good friends of yours, others are insufferable, and still others have significant flaws that speak to the kind of person they are versus their gameplay function. These are NPCs out of the Baldur���s Gate school, given the illusion of life, rather than the team of personalized murderers you’d recruit in an Etrian Odyssey game.

  Very little else in the Japanese games scene is like Ruina. You could draw comparisons with games like Unlimited Saga and Scarlet Grace, representing the legacy of controversial SQUARE ENIX auteur Akitoshi Kawazu. You could similarly connect Ruina with Yasumi Matsuda’s experimental Crimson Shroud, which takes influence from tabletop to the point that it has the player rolling dice in-game. But Ruina is more accessible and polished than a Kawazu game, and far more fleshed out than Crimson Shroud. Even Etrian Odyssey, with its comparatively barebones story and characters, doesn’t quite compare. Ruina stands alone in the Japanese free games community, a legendary title that people respect but don’t fully understand how to replicate.

    A few days ago I reached out to Kastel, an academic, writer, and translator who is very familiar with Japan’s RPG Maker scene, about where Ruina fit in Japan’s wider field of indie games. “I know many people in the furige (free game) scene who love the game to death,” they said. “But they also found it to be a hard sell due to its unique, almost western take on the scene. The fact that the game is even this popular speaks to something.” Despite its crunchy mechanics and niche inspirations, the game is popular enough to have spawned light novels, an honor not unique to it (other RPG Maker games have accomplished the same) but certainly significant. Kastel drew a comparison between Ruina and Darkest Dungeon, another weird and uncompromising game that draws from both Japanese and western RPGs. “Ruina is sorta different from everything, but you also see dungeon crawlers get inspired by it,” they said. “Not all games take direct inspiration, but you can’t help but see a little bit of Ruina here and there.”

  So why did it take so long for anybody to translate Ruina? Dink isn’t the only person to try his hand at translating it into English; just last fall, another forum dweller placed an ad recruiting a translation team to tackle the game. The unfortunate reality is that translating text within the RPG Maker engine into English requires intensive and repetitive labor. “There’ve been tools developed by vgperson [a prominent translator of RPG Maker games] for RPG Maker 2000 and some other machine translation tools for newer games, but they all remain difficult to use for translators,” Kastel says. “The way games are scripted uses events inside the map and developers rarely name them. So not only do you need to edit it via the appropriate RPG Maker engine, but you also need to go through each event contextless unless the creator actually notes things down.” So, the enterprising Ruina translator doesn’t just need to translate all the text in the game into English. It isn’t even a question of whether or not to manually edit the game’s many pictures and custom menus into English by hand. It’s the sheer difficulty of navigating between thousands of (often poorly labeled) events and variables in the RPG Maker engine, ensuring not to introduce any new bugs or errors in the process, while also finding the time to do all of the above.

    Dink was assisted by a friend of his named bool, who played through the game alongside the translation process and gave invaluable advice and fixes. “Uncovering the mystery in the game's story sort of ran parallel with the translation of the game itself,” bool says. “As the story progressed, the characters would decipher and learn more about the lore of the eponymous ruins within the game, and as the translation progressed, the same held true for us. It really captivated me to be a part of this process, and I started to look forward to each new area that I could explore and each new morsel of the story I could understand.”

  Without bool’s efforts, it might have taken far longer to put together something workable. As it was, it took four exhausting months. “I worked long hours — 12+ hours a day, 6, sometimes 7 days a week on top of my day job — and very rarely used my free time on anything else,” Dink says. “I did manually input the text in RPG Maker 2000, which has raised some eyebrows because there are some very nice tools available for game translation that would have saved me a lot of time. However, a huge advantage of working directly in the editor is being able to see the game more or less as it appears to players. A Notepad file streamlines the basic translation process, but it also heavily obscures context, whereas the editor allows you to see what switches and variables are being used, what music is being played, and sometimes even helpful creator comments, all in the same relative order you'd experience it from within the game.” Dink had one more secret weapon up his sleeve: the experience of working with the RPG Maker engine as an adolescent. RPG Maker has a reputation of being a tool designed to churn out Dragon Quest clones with ease; but nobody knows the intense difficulty of forcing the engine to do something, anything, like a former RPG Maker developer does. 

    The English version of Ruina, as it currently exists, is a workable but inevitably compromised version of the game. Running the game requires installing the Japanese RTP pack of visual and audio resources for RPG Maker to function, along with the use of the EasyRPG player to provide English-language player name entry. There’s the matter of the custom menus, as well. Several of the menus have been replaced with functional English equivalents, but by Dink's own admission they could use an expert's attention to better compare to the original. Other pictures, such as place name displays, have yet to be replaced by English-language equivalents at all. And the strict character limits of RPG Maker 2000 led to some creative truncating when translating from Japanese to English, especially with item and skill descriptions.

  But the existence of an English-language Ruina, one that renders the whole game playable from beginning to end with a readable script, is a miracle. Speaking for myself, I started the long process of learning Japanese two years ago in part so that I could one day play this game, never expecting there might one day be an alternative. Others in the Japanese RPG Maker scene, knowing the brutal difficulty of translating a game made in the earlier engines, were shocked that a game of Ruina’s complexity and length was successfully translated at all.  Speaking for themselves, Dink and bool insist that their own story doesn’t matter much. What matters is the quality of the original game and the hard work developer Shoukichi Karekusa put into its creation. Anything else is an addendum, another version of the game that — while it cannot ever be the original — might at least make something resembling that original experience accessible to others.

    Frankly speaking, I think there’s something to that. The “true” version of Ruina will always exist in its original form, released for free by Karekusa in 2008. It stands as the defining work of a creator who sought to create a unique experience combining the appeal of console and tabletop roleplaying games, with no concessions to market sensibilities. A creator who not only released their baby on the internet for free, but insisted that a game like Ruina must always and ever be free. An austere monolith, it stands side by side with Yume Nikki, Ib, and even Cave Story as one of the great works to come out of Japan’s independent scene. Now any English speaker can pick up and play this new version of Ruina, and learn what that monolith is and where it leads to.

  You can download the English translation of Ruina here. For those who want to learn more about the Japanese RPG Maker scene, I recommend checking out Kastel’s page here.

  Are you a Ruina fan? Let us know in the comments! 

    Adam W is a Features Writer at Crunchyroll. When he is not working through exercises in Wanikani, he sporadically contributes with a loose group of friends to a blog called Isn't it Electrifying? You can find him on Twitter at:@wendeego

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a feature, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: Adam Wescott

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Baby Love - Part 9

A/N: OMG its been a while!

Hope your all doing okay 💕

This is just a chapter full of fluff im not gonna lie! 💕

Waking up the day after the premiere i dreaded looking at my phone so i just left it on the side and headed to the kitchen to make some breakfast. I wasn't ready to read all the hateful comments again, as long as i didn't look i could just pretend they didn't exist and enjoy my day with Chris. I switched on the radio and hummed along to the song on the radio as i started cooking the bacon and eggs, i actually felt pretty good.

Once breakfast was ready and i had fed Dodger i headed to the bedroom to wake Chris up, he'd had a few drinks last night and had slept like the dead!

"Hey babe.... wake up i made breakfast" i said leaning against the doorframe as i admired the naked man in front of me... he was laying face down hugging my pillow with the sheets just covering his ass. He cracked one eye and looked at me, a sleepy smile spreading across his face as he reached a hand out to me.

"Come back to bed" he mumbled.

"Nope, ive cooked breakfast its getting cold" i chuckled crossing my arms and waiting for him to get up.

"At least come and give me a kiss first"

"I forget how needy you get when your hungover..." i rolled my eyes shaking my head but took the few steps forward and took his hand. Chris pulled me closer and rolled onto his back with a wicked grin. As he pulled me onto the bed with him we both laughed before i leaned forward and gave him the kiss he wanted. I suddenly pulled back with wide eyes looking down at him, i saw the worry flashing over his face.

"What is it? Did i hurt you?" He sat up suddenly trying to work out what was wrong. I slowly shook my head before a smile spread on my face.

"The baby just kicked.... like a proper kick. Not just the little flutters i've been feeling....shit! it did it again!" I laughed grabbing Chris's hand and placing it on my stomach where id been feeling movement.

"I can't feel anything..." he said sadly shaking his head.

"Just wait.... give him a minute"

When the baby kicked again Chris's eyes went wide before he started laughing, excitement in his eyes as he brought his other hand up to cup my baby bump.

"Shit..... i felt that!"

"I told you!"

"That was something else....." he muttered staring at my bump his eyes tearing up, I leant forward pressing a kiss to his lips quickly.

"God i love you"

"I love you too. But come on, your son is hungry.... and mama needs sustenance" i laughed jumping up and rushing back out to the kitchen, i heard Chris laughing behind me and i turned round to catch him following me as he finished pulling on a pair of sweats.

"We're going back to bed after though right?" He asked catching up and wrapping his arms around me from behind.

"I think that can be arranged".

Scott had called around lunch time and Chris had obviously told him all about feeling the baby kicking..... half hour later Scott was at the door!

"Uncle Scott is here to feel the kicks!" He said sounding far too excited when he came bursting through the door.

"Sorry Uncle Scott but your nephew is not very active at the moment" i frowned rubbing a hand over my stomach.

"Thats fine i can wait..... i brought chinese" he smiled holding up the bag of take out, my eyes lit up instantly!

"Ooh did you get..."

"Yes! Of course i got you ribs! Do you take me for a fool??" He asked looking insulted that i would even consider he forgot the ribs.

"Your the best!" I beamed over at Scott suddenly overcome with hunger at the mention of ribs! "Hey babe?...."

"I'll get the pickles" Chris called back before i even asked making me laugh, i could just imagine the looks being exchanged between the brothers but i didn't care. Weird pregnancy cravings were the norm by now. A few seconds later Chris walked in with a plate of ribs, a few pickles on the side.... as soon as the smell reached me i felt the baby kick.

"Hey Scott.... your nephew is kicking!" I called out to Scott who was still plating up his food, be came running out and dramatically dived into the empty seat next to me.

"Hey! Be careful!" Chris scolded his brother shaking his head as he handed me the plate.

"Sorry but i didn't want to miss it again!"

"Give me your hand" i held my hand out for Scotts hand and placed it where i was feeling movement "okay just wait a minute......" i said casually as i tucked in to my food, a moan escaping at how good this food was!

"Jesus, you really like those ribs don't you?" Scott laughed.

"You cant even begin to imagine the satisfaction i get from this right now" i pointed to my plate "its even better than sex!"

"Hey!" Chris moaned looking at me like i spat in his food.

"Im not saying the sex is bad.... because wow i cant get enough of you..."

"Ewww" Scott grumbled making me and Chris laugh.

"Sorry Scotty! But its true!" I took a bite of my pickle and moaned again "honestly, you have no idea how good this is right now".

As if the baby was agreeing he gave a kick right where Scotts hand was resting, his eyes went wide for a few seconds then he was leaning closer talking to my bump, introducing himself as Uncle Scott promising to be the best uncle ever!

"Scott you do know the baby cant hear you" Chris rolled his eyes at his brother as he sat the other side of me.

"Of course he can! Babies can hear in the womb Chris and this baby is gonna know his Uncle Scotts voice!"

I looked at Chris smiling and shaking my head "his right, the baby can hear some stuff.... don't worry" i grabbed Chris's hand "he already knows your voice"

"You don't know that...."

"Sure i do, he moves more when you talk" i smiled "he knows his daddy's voice".

"Promise?"

"Promise".

We eventually finished eating and Scott was happy enough that he had felt the baby kicking. We were halfway through some movie the two of them chose when Scott looked up from his cell phone.

"How was your social media this morning after last night?"

"Not a clue.... i refused to look. I was in a good mood this morning , i didn't need to read all of those shitty comments....it stresses me out and thats no good for the baby....."

"You may be surprised, i've seen nothing but nice things being said. Obviously theres still the odd comment.... but most are saying how their happy for you both"

"Seriously....?" I looked over with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah"

"Wow..... i didn't expect that after the last time i was seen in public with you"

"Anything about the baby?" Chris asked his brother who shook his head.

"Funnily enough no one has mentioned it! Im surprised to be honest i thought they'd be all over that, you weren't exactly hiding that bump of yours"

"Maybe you should make an announcement before it gets out some other way...." i looked at Chris and ran a hand over my swollen belly.

"We can do that if your comfortable with it?...."

"Honestly i just want to be able to leave the house without worrying what i'm wearing, worrying that someone will see that i'm pregnant before we've had the chance to break the news ourselves....."

"Okay..... we'll sort something out".

At some point in the evening i must have fallen asleep because one minute i was watching the movie with Chris and Scott and the next i woke up in bed. The room was dim the only light coming from a lamp on Chris's side of the bed. He was laying close i could tell from his body heat, i was just about to turn to see if he was awake or not when he spoke, but he wasn't talking to me..... he was talking to the baby.

"Hey buddy..... i'm your dad....." he said quietly and i felt him gently stroke my stomach "god i suck at this...." he sighed "i just.... i guess i just wanna make sure you know me and that i love you and your mama so much. I promise i'm gonna take real good care of you both....."

"You already do take care of us" i said quietly reaching a hand up to run through his hair....he looked up at me looking a little embarrassed.

"You wasn't supposed to hear that"

"Are you really worried that the baby won't know who are?" I asked looking into those gorgeous blue eyes of his that i get lost in way too easy!

"Well i wasn't until Scott opened his big mouth but now its all i can think about"

"Chris i promise you your son knows your voice already......"

"How can you be sure?"

"He goes crazy whenever your around especially when your talking"

"He does?...."

"Yep" i smiled moving his hand over to the other side so he could feel the constant kicking currently going on.

"See!"

"Thats kinda crazy"

"I know right?..... so can you please turn off the light and come to bed im exhausted" i chuckled, Chris quickly kissed me and bent to drop a kiss on my baby bump before switching off the lamp. He got into bed pulling me against his chest, his hand spread on the bump and mumbled a goodnight.

"Goodnight.... we love you"

"I love you both too".

I fell asleep with a smile on my face thinking about how god damn sweet this man was and i couldn't help but think about what a great dad he was gonna be.

Baby Love tags: @jennmurawski13 @mybabyboytony @ms-betsy-fangirl @vampgirl1997 @ajosieface @afuckingshituniverse @chmedic @esoltis280 @southerngracela @bethabear12 @letsdisneythings @sellulii @patzammit @katiew1973 @princess-evans-addict @deidrahouseofpain @siren-queen03 @shipatheart @little-dark-empress @barnesandrogersworld @dumblani @xxloki81xx @jesseswartzwelder @lizzyclifford13-blog @booktease21

[staytinyzen01]

China Line V-live

NCT 22nd member au

Hua X China Line

Buckle your seatbelts boys, gorls and non-binary pals, this is a LONGGGGG one

It was the day. The day where the Chinese members gathered up and hung out. It was a rare thing, especially since Kun and Lucas had only just managed to remove themselves from SM’s basement. They all decided that they should do a vlive together so they sat on a sofa and before long began the live.

Lucas began the live by repeatedly saying ‘hello’ causing Hua to giggle at his antics. She was situated next to Sicheng and in-between Renjun’s knees, allowing her to rest her head on them.He was absent-mindedly playing with her hair as they started. The manager gave them a signal to start and Hua sat herself up.

Everyone said hello, with Renjun pointing out the fact that absolutely no-one was watching yet, and when Hua said hello in her small voice, the boys all gave her a group hug and al but souted ‘aw’ at her cuteness causing her to blush and cover her cheeks. Kun was watching the live from his phone for comments and made sure everything was perfect for the cizennies. She shook her head at the teasing that ensued after 30 seconds of the live starting, looking into the camera lens like she was in ‘The Office’. Renjun tilted her head up to face him once he saw her head shaking and playfully frowned before they began to introduce themselves, After winwin. she looked into the camera with a little wave, ‘HI I’m NCT’s sunflower Hua’. Kun leant over Sicheng and squished her right cheek playfully whilst the rest said their pieces and then stating that they will be using Chinese throughout the entirety of the live. Hua face-palmed loudly after Renjun said that the Korean people should get Ice-cream.

The real chaos started once they began to read the comments. Hua snuggled herself down on the sofa, her head once more leaning against Renjun’s legs as he began to tease Sicheng. She had to stifle a laugh at Chenle saying his head wasn’t as big due to Kun being there. She looked at Kun to make sure he took it alright before focusing on the camera once more, leaning forward occasionally to read a comment to herself but she was interrupted by Chenle’s ‘I SEE!’ Both her and Renjun looked at each other before saying in sync, ‘ THE VISION!’ Hua giggled loudly and it was Kun’s turn to look into the camera like he was in ‘The Office’ whilst Renjun looked at Hua endearingly when she was facing the front once more.

Kun began to talk about how they were wanting to do the live for a while bit they all had conflicting schedules, this was occasionally interrupted by Lucas before the aforementioned boy put on ‘Outro: Vision’ thus causing Renjun to dance and Hua was occasionally jolted by said boy. Lucas soon called out ‘SHAKE YOUR BODY MAN!’ causing a miniature dance more and Hua to be jolted once more, to which she huffed. Renjun rubbed her shoulders in apology. He pointed out the key part of the song and they all leant forward before mouthing/speaking the words ‘I SEE........THE VISION!’

Once they began to read comments again, teasing started once more,. Sicheng had asked a question but Renjun decided to be pedantic and tease the bot boy  and once Renjun was satisfied with the answer he was tackled by Sicheng which caused Hua to get squished. The fans commented on that and Kun gently tapped Winwin’s foot with his own to signify their maknae was being squished. The culprit pulled away and apologised whilst Renjun gently pulled Hua into his legs once more to let her relax in an apology, he leant to down to her ear to tell her it as well.

It calmed down for a bit after that, they read questions and had the occasional bout of teasing whether it was for the tongue twisters or the competency of speaking Chinese *cough* Lucas *cough*. Renjun had a brief Korean intermission to let the Korean fans know about the subtitles before the spoke in their native language once more. 

Hua then decided to break her silence. ‘I know I have been rather quiet and I’m sorry for that, but please know that I do want to speak it’s just hard to get a word in edgeways when these lot are being loud.’ She glanced at them all in turn and they all murmured an apology to the youngest before they went on with the live.

They were 20 minutes into the live when they had some surprise guests. Sicheng pulled Jungwoo into their small group The boys screamed and Hua shuffled from her spot to engulf him into a hug. The comments were spammed with mentions of their cuteness together whilst they clung onto each other happily. He then gave a little introduction of himself i chinese, which Kun was mouthing to. Hua flicked him for it and they just smiled at each other and giggled before the shoved Jungwoo away and pulled in Jaemin. 

Screaming ensued once more and Hua tackled Jaemin into a hug and he reciprocated just as much. They had grown close and she bonded with him just as much as she had the rest of the dreamies which pleased her and eased some of her worries. Renjun tickled them both and they clung to each other tighter, giggling before he said bye.

Renjun and Lucas then pretended to be the next guests, Hua acted like she had for the others to help his joke and they all gave no response to Lucas which caused them all to laugh.

They resumed the question readings once more and when they were asked what song they liked off of empathy, Hua was the first one to speak. ‘Personally, I think they are all good but my favourite has to be Go as I got to work with Nana for the first time and we really bonded whilst filming. My other go to song is Touch.’ Lucas was quick to say he liked touch too and they did a small segment of the choreo before the others answered the question.

Luckily for Hua, the live was pretty calm after that. She helped answer some more questions, she laughed when they did as her chinese older brother’s humour was like nothing else. No matter how much she complains she wouldn’t change it. Then the time came to end the live, causing her to pout. They decided to end it in their native dialects which caused her to smile as she could talk freely and comfortably without the confines of plain mandarin. After Sicheng, she began her ending ment. ‘So as you have witnessed, this v-app was a mess, thanks to these 5 knuckleheads but I want to say thank you for watching our live. It means a lot that you wanted to watch our antics. I hope we didn’t scare you all off-’ She was rudely interrupted by Renjun who covered her mouth with his hand as he said his ending ment with a laugh. He spoke for a while and she let his hand sit there as she formulated a plan. Right when he was in the middle of his ment, she licked his hand but he did not react and just wiped his hand in Sicheng’s top. Both Hua and Sicheng frowned and Renjun laughed at them both before he finished and they all said bye. 

Jaemin was waiting for his dream siblings and once they stepped towards him, he tackled them and began to squish their cheeks, stating how cute they were before finally dragging them home.

Tag List: @anothershorthuman​ @lovesickmark​

[sxfterhearts]

20. [9:40 am]

28A… 29A… Ah, 30A! You thought to yourself as your eyes glanced over the seat numbers slightly above your line of sight, your feet finally coming to a stop beside your reserved seat.

Much to your dismay, it was a window seat, facing in the opposite direction of the train’s movements. It was also one of the few face-to-face seats on the entire KTX train, with a table between the two pairs of seats which were facing each other.

You groaned internally. As much as you liked having a proper surface for writing or doodling in your journal, you didn’t like sharing. You much preferred having your own privacy while glancing out the windows, watching the greenery and the countryside pass by in a colourful blur, with soft tunes to accompany you on your journey. It’s fine, you reminded yourself, trying to stay positive, it’s only two hours, no big deal…

You hauled your backpack over your head and into the overhead compartment with practiced movements. Pulling out your travel necessities, which included your fully-charged phone, a pair of wireless earphones, a large, ice-cold Americano and your trusty journal, you settled into your seat for the rest of the morning. A part of you wished that the seat in front of you wouldn’t be occupied, while another part of you contemplated whether it was better to just try and fall asleep for the remainder of the train ride to Gangneung.

You quickly dismissed the latter thought, as the scenery throughout the train ride was too good to miss. You could deal with a couple of awkward silences and accidental glances with the unlucky stranger who reserved the seat opposite yours. Besides, it was your first time visiting your parents in two months – you weren’t going to let anything sour your mood.

The last-minute trip to Gangneung, your hometown, was planned just two days ago, as you were graciously granted two days of paid leave by your manager. After finally submitting the last tax return for your clients, your manager had treated the entire team to a congratulatory dinner and gave everyone a few days of leave to make up for the never-ending client meetings and late nights spent slaving away at the office desk during the tax busy season. You were overwhelmed with joy once your manager announced the news, pulling her usually stoic self into a tight embrace under the yellow glow of  the pojangmacha, a tent bar selling alcohol and street food, due to the heightened levels of alcohol within your system.

Giggling to yourself at the memory, you reached out for your phone and typed a message to your mother to inform her that you were about to depart Seoul. It was a message that she read and replied immediately with her usual “Be careful, dear, and have a safe journey.”, which you missed dearly during the busy season. On off-periods, you would make the effort to visit your parents once a fortnight. You moved to Seoul for university a few years back and found a job in the bustling city, leaving your parents and the family’s bicycle store behind in the coastal neighbourhood. Sometime in your early twenties, your father experienced a mild health scare and had to close the store during his month-long recovery. This made you realise that as the years went by, your parents were not getting any younger. With that in mind, you tried to clear your hectic schedule to spend as much time with your parents as possible.

“This is the 10:01am number 811 KTX train bound for Gangneung. The train will be departing shortly.”

The familiar female voice flooded the carriages of the train and distracted you from your thoughts. The seat in front of you was still unoccupied. You held on to the tiny glimmer of hope that it would remain that way for the rest of the journey, despite knowing very well that the summer holidays were approaching, turning Gangneung into an ideal weekend getaway for tourists and locals alike. The prospect of spending the next few days basking in the summer sunshine, helping out at the bicycle store and frolicking in the sea excited you to no end. After long hours cooped up in the office, you were looking forward to spending your break in the great outdoors.

“28… 29… 30, 31! Here it is, Mark, 31A and 31B. Dibs the window seat!” A cheerful voice spoke in English, pulling you out of your delightful daydream. Before you could turn your head to face its owner, a bright streak of reflected rainbow dancing across the table caught your eye.

“Okay, Bella,” A deep chuckle originated from the man standing beside your seat. “Wait a sec, pass me your bag, honey.”

Your eyes traced the source of the deep timbre notes of the American-sounding voice. What you found was a man, dressed in an oversized white shirt and black ripped jeans, who was placing the girl’s pink Barbie bag into the overhead compartment. Even though he was wearing a cap, you could make out his cherubic features and the gentle smile he directed towards the girl.

The thought that he was a bit too young to have a daughter crossed your mind for a split second, but you quickly shook it off to return the little girl’s excited smile with a polite wave. She was wearing a cute pink dress and looked to be about six or seven years old. The pair got comfortable in their seats, just as the announcement informed the passengers the doors were closing.

The man sitting diagonally opposite of you took off his cap to reveal a head of blonde hair. He met your gaze, and you watched as a surprised look flashed across his face. As the two of you exchanged polite greetings, you couldn’t shake off the thought that you had seen him somewhere before.

A phone chirped, signalling an incoming call. It was a call for him. He answered it, and you looked out the window to give him some privacy and not seem too nosy. You wracked your brain for answers. Did he work at the café I frequented? Or was it the Chinese restaurant that I ordered takeaways from? No… You mused silently. Maybe he’s the cashier at the convenience store near the apartment… But that doesn’t seem right either. Wait, is he-?

“Bell, your Mummy wants to speak to you.”

“Yes, Mummy! Mark said…”

You drowned out the rest of the conversation to refocus your thinking. You sneaked another glance at the man in question, only to find half of his face covered by his laptop screen as he tapped away furiously. It seems like it’s him… You adjusted your position several times to get a better look at his face without seeming too suspicious. Blonde hair and shiny helix piercing, it must be him.

The person you were referring to was someone you’ve only ever seen from afar. There was usually a safe distance between you two on your morning subway ride to the office, with him leaning casually against a pole and you standing steadily in the middle of the crowd. The closest you’ve been to him was when you were running late, and you happened to share the elevator with a blonde-haired man from the eighth floor of your apartment. He always had the top button of his crisp button-up undone, a tie hanging haphazardly over one shoulder and his headphones sitting snugly atop his blonde head, while munching on a piece of burnt toast. You had never encountered this strange gentleman until mid-May, so you assumed that he had recently moved into the floor below you. The two of you never exchanged words either, as he was always busy shoving down his breakfast, but you would always bow politely to each other. Unbeknownst to him, you were intrigued. Not many office workers were brave enough to sport such a striking hair colour, and you had to admit, it suited him perfectly.

You just never expected him to have a child.

“Mark!” The girl, Bella, whined while grabbing his hand. Your ears were still getting accustomed to hearing English after so long. The last time you were surrounded by native speakers was during your six-month-long secondment to the New York branch of your company. “Do my hair, pretty please! I want two braids.”

The man, Mark, sighed in fake annoyance, playfully poking her cheeks. “Yes, Your Highness. Hand over your other hair tie.” A part of you wasn’t used to how the girl didn’t address him with honorifics, but you busied yourself with your phone, pretending that you weren’t eavesdropping on their conversation.

“I thought you took them for me when we left your house.” She huffed, clearly unsatisfied.

“Nope, I only have one with me.”

Your fingers reached for the simple, black hair tie around your wrist. “Here, you can borrow mine.” Smiling, you handed it over to Bella, who accepted it with a grateful smile.

Mark leaned down to whisper in her ear, unable to hide the surprised smile on his face. “Thank the pretty eonnie in Korean.”

“Thank you, eonnie!” Bella chirped, so excited that she was practically bouncing in her seat.

“You’re most welcome.” You said in perfect English, intrigued at Mark’s earlier interaction with the girl.

He proceeded to divide her hair into two even halves, combing her dark locks with long, thin fingers. Expertly, Mark separated the first half into three parts and began to braid. He stuck out his tongue cutely in concentration, trying his best to not mess up.

“Don’t move so much, Bell.” He scolded lightly when the girl pulled out her colouring book and painted the sky a light shade of blue with large strokes of her coloured pencil.

“You’re pretty good at this. Mark, right?” You commented.

“Yeah, guess it comes with practice. I’m Mark, by the way. We never got to introduce each other properly. Your name is…?”

“Y/N.”

“Ah yes, Y/N. It suits you well. Always so prim and proper in your blazer and kitten heels. I must seem like a fool to you, with my tie undone and all.”

You laughed at his self-deprecating humour. This man is funny, and he can braid hair. His wife sure is a lucky woman, you thought. “No, not at all. Where do you work?”

Light conversation regarding your respective careers ensued. You found out that he was also working at a company close to yours, which explained the frequent encounters on the train. He moved in about a month ago from another side of the city because of his new job. When the conversation about work dwindled, you shifted the topic to the girl.

“How old is she?”

Mark secured the first braid with your hair tie, smiling to himself, satisfied. “Bella, how old are you?”

“I’m six, Mark! How could you forget?” The girl sat up from her position to shoot daggers with her eyes at him.

“I’m sorry, kiddo. Come, turn to the other side so I can finish this up.” He moved her to sit facing the window instead and starting on the second braid. “She’s six,” Mark turned to you and answered with a sheepish expression. Before you started to wonder what kind of father would forget his daughter’s age, he continued, “Bella doesn’t visit very often.”

Your eyebrows quirked upwards in response. Does that mean he was… divorced?

Mark saw your confused expression and hastened to add, “She’s my niece.” You let out a breath that you didn’t even realise you were holding. “My sister and her family came over from LA to visit me.”

It all made sense to you now. “Right…”

“Her parents wanted some alone time so I’m taking her to Gangneung for a day trip cos she wants to visit Jumunjin beach and take some pictures.” He paused, and went on to mouth, “She loves BTS.”

“The bus stop near the beach? The one on their album cover?” You wondered, knowing exactly which photo spot he was referring to. “It’s about a bit of a drive from my parent’s bicycle shop. I took a couple of days off to visit them.”

“You’ve seen the bus stop? That’s so cool!” Bella’s ears perked up.

“Sit still, honey.” Mark reminded sternly as he got closer to the end of the braid.

You nodded eagerly. “Yup! They’ve got a map of a BTS bus route with their album names as the bus stops.”

“Don’t encourage her, Y/N…” Mark groaned as he tied the second braid. He inspected his handiwork and seemed very proud of himself.

“Well, I have a suggestion,” You started carefully. “How about this? I can be your local tour guide for Gangneung today. I can show you the best photo spots, the most popular places to get your daily coffee fix and even get you a discount for bike rentals so you can cycle around the beach and the lake!”

The two of them nodded eagerly at your proposition.

//

It was a long, eventful day. The three of you had visited a hanok café, took way too many pictures at the Jumunjin bus stop and breakwater where they filmed Goblin, dipped your toes in Gyeongpo Beach and cycled around Gyeongpo lake. Your parents had immediately taken a liking to your new friend Mark and his cute niece, even insisting on packing them a container full of kimbap and banana milk for their journey back to Seoul.

“Thank you so, so much for today, Y/N.” Mark whispered as the three of you sat at the train station, waiting for their train. Bella had already dozed off with her head on Mark’s lap. It was an adorable sight. “We both had a lot of fun.”

“Not a problem at all. I enjoyed showing you around and visiting touristy places. I got to see my hometown in a different light.” You faced him, giving him a sincere smile.

He returned you with an equally bright smile that showed off his cute, pointy canines. “Let me take you out for dinner or something. You know, to make it up to you.” Mark’s ears began to heat up and were painted in a faint tinge of red. “Let’s exchange numbers.”

“Sure!” You replied. Was he asking me out on a date? You wondered. “I’ve been craving sticky barbecue ribs since I left the States.”

“I know a good place. How about next Saturday night?”

“I’m free.”

“Great, it’s a date.”

[saundraswriting]

Interior Design Chapter 4: Accept

SUMMARY:You official declare your acceptance of the job for the Avengers, knowing it will be the biggest one you will ever work on. You start right away.

WARNINGS: None

NOTES: This is an everyone lives/no one dies, Living in the compound, Non Civil War compliant, No Sokovian Accords AU.

Previous / Next

"Oh my god. That was so fucking stupid." You facepalm. "You meet Sargent Barnes and that is what you say. Then recommend a houseplant." You smack your forehead again.

"Are you quite done?" Tony leaned against the wall arms crossed, eyebrows raised, a small smile hovering on his lips. You had dragged him down a ways to be out of sight from the others while you panicked.

"Mr. Stark! No, I am not done. I think I need to go. Right now." You sighed, leaning against the opposite wall, gently thumping your head on the wall.

Tony dropped his amusement very quickly, straightening. "Let me tell you something. That is the first time someone has touched Barnes in weeks. I have never seen someone hug him. Only Steve has been able to touch him, and even he has to ask to not startle him." Tony told you.

"You're right! I didn't ask. How rude and improper of me. I didn't trigger him did I?" Tony's words did not reassure you like he hoped, actually pushing you closer to true panic. You pushed off the wall turning to head back towards the kitchen. Tony threw an arm out stopping your progress. Youi looked at him, eyes wide and unfocused, cheeks flushed.

"Wait. Hold on. Listen to me, Ms. Psych-Minor-lady. A severely traumatized dangerous man let you in close enough to hug him. He was crying, yes but-" Tony was trying to calm you down. You felt terrible, a off the street civilian thinking you were entitled enough to just touch him and prattle on about what is best for him. Tony could see what you were feeling on your face.

"Crying?!? You yelped. "I made him cry??"

"But he was smiling too. You did good, kid. Also that plant idea was solid. Now let me show you to your room? I have your stuff in a guest room right now but that will be moved in a minute. I will give you a room here and an office on the business section as well. Now, the only empty room is in the hallway with Steve, Sam, Bucky and Shuri." Tony smiled at you trying to relax you. You peered at him suspiciously.

"I didn't do anything bad? I just...I don't know everything that has happened lately but what bit I do know just pulls on my heartstrings. I felt he needed some unbiased comfort. I would certainly want a hug after everything too." You wrapped your arms around yourself, shrinking in, still nervous you had overstepped a line. Then the rest of Tony's words registered. "Your giving me a room? That seems weird."

Tony laughed and puled you into a side-hug. "Kid, I have had my eye on you for a while. You are part of this team, especially if you have to deal with all our bullshit. But to get back on track. You aren't wrong about Barnes. We've all been treating him with kid gloves, wondering what little thing we say or do will push him over the edge. In a minute of meeting him, you showed everyone he is still human-one who has been very hurt and is still struggling to deal with it. He needs our support, not alienation."

"He looked so sad and tired, alone. I know what it is like to be alone, to have your family pull away when they should be there for you." You leaned into Tony for a moment, appreciating the hug for the offered comfort. "Now, Mr. Stark. How about you show me a room that I will be working on? I would love to see some visuals." You tried to change the subject to get away from your botched first impression with Sargent Barnes.

Tony nodded, accepting the subject change with grace. Tony and you came upon a room and he asked F.R.I.D.A.Y to open it. "!2 of these rooms including yours included. There are 8 that are for our more frequent flyers and Very Important Powerful Beings." The two of you entered, you stepping deeper into the room to look at the dimensions. "Several of the VIPB are people like King T'Challa of Wakanda or the Black Panther and Colonel Carol Danvers goes by Captain Marvel among others, Ant-Man and his friend The Wasp like to stop by a lot."

"Scott Lang? Hope Van Dyne?" You turned to ask. Tony was surprised. "I respect Hope for trying to help her dad undercover at the Lab and Scott is doing his best. He likes to put smiles on people's faces. He is good about being good." You explained. "This rooms are great. Spacious with lot of natural light. You also didn't limit options, the room can be oriented in any direction." You paced the room, using your arms as a measuring guide. "I will need to plan extensively with the full-time residents. I will need some serious backgrounds on the others. I wouldn't want them to be unhappy upon arrival. I will need to speak to someone about how to make a room fit for a king and princess." You mumbled to yourself continuing to walk around the room. Tony watched with a proud look, like a parent giving their child a present they love.

"Glad to see you enjoying yourself. We'll be getting dinner here shortly. We eat together and usually watch movies afterwards." Tony was speaking to you while leading you back to the kitchen by the elbow. He could relate to the distant look in your eye. He knew you weren't listening, too busy thinking and planning. He led you to the edge of the hallway and you stopped.

"Mr. Stark." You interrupted the man. He smiled knowingly. "I accept your offer. I am honored to work for you. I do have some small current projects but I should finish them quickly to give my full attention to this."

"That is exactly why I wanted to stay here. You will be able to balance everything easier. I don't want to take away from your inner city clients. Now dinner tonight is Chinese. What do you want?" You gave Tony your Chinese order, the two of you moving forward once more.

You sat down at the large kitchen table, propping up your tablet and opening your laptop. The design app you used had the update blueprints and layouts like Tony promised. He huffed a small laugh. "I will leave you to it for a while. See you later, Y/N." Tony left, you mumming distractedly.

You decided to start a fresh page of notes to work with the labeled blueprints F.R.I.D.A.Y installed for you. You build a list of the basic of what everyone would need, knowing that is where their personal taste came into play. You listed some style motifs and examples to help with the planning.

An hour later and you were clawing at your hair. 'How do I make individual room layouts open to change without doing, undoing and redoing all the work over and over until they like it?' You were obnoxiously tapping a pen against the table while you thought, you were staring at the kitchen zoned out when it hit you. "Magnets! I make a magnet image board. I use the specs of one room and the basics into magnets and then I can make their personal choices magnets to be movable!" You smacked the table energetically. You began frantically scribbling and searching for custom magnets. You figured that a decent sized board with a grid would be best, you can make your own with pictures and plain lightweight magnets. "I am going to need so many samples." You muttered.

"Hey, you ready for a break? Chinese will be here soon. As will some of the others you haven't met yet." Tony chimed from next to you. "You've been at it for like two hours now. I have been waiting for you to come up for air for a while now."

"I am a bit of a workaholic. Sorry. You have to be forceful to get my attention when I am in the zone." You apologized sheepishly. "This is very large undertaking, I wanted to get some thought in order before I got started." Tony waved off your apology and moved to the couch where Steve was already sitting.

The sight of him on the couch made another thought cross your mind. You left the mess on the table and walked quickly to the living room. You peered closely at the sectional in front of you. "Reinforced furniture." You commented. Captain Rogers and Tony looked at you in confusion. "Captain Rogers, can I borrow you for a moment?" You asked. He nodded and they both stood up. "I need you to lift this couch please."

"Um, sure." The good captain did just as you asked and you got down on the floor and looked underneath. Nodding a few time you got back up, "Thank you for the assist. You may put it back."

You went back over to your notes and began muttering and scribbling. "Thicker wood frames, metal brackets at joints, some metal supports?"

"You are...very welcome...Y/N." Steve and Tony looked no less confused.

"I will admit to being more confused than before." Dr. Banner spoke from next to Tony. You looked up at the new voices freezing at who you saw.

"Oh my god. #sciencebros." You breathed. "Dr. Banner, an honor to meet you." You spoke louder, coming up to shake his hand. "I needed to see the wear and tear on the everyday furniture. The frames need reinforced." The three men ah'ed in understanding. Any further explanation was interrupted by Clint and Natasha coming in arms fully loaded with bags.

"We come bearing gifts! Everyone ready to eat?" The four of you jumped to help, you scrambling to put away your stuff and get out of the way.

Moments later the Avengers that were there had settled to eat. You sat across from a silver-haired younger man, who sat on the left of a beautiful Burnette who had a man with red skin on her right. Clint. Sam, Steve, Bucky, Tony, and Natasha then filled the rest of the seats. You were trying to gather your courage to introduce yourself when the red skinned man spoke to you first.

"Hello there, Ms. L/N. I don't think we have been fully introduced." His smooth British voice eased your nerves slightly but also caught the attention of everyone at the table.

Previous / Next

*******************************************************************************************

Okay, here we go...time to get to the good stuff. Anybody want tagged? What are we thinking?

[saysomethingspiderman]

Something Wonderful (PT. 1)

Synopsis: During your time as a professional photographer, you had come across incredibly good looking men, but there was just something about Tom that stood out. Who would have thought shooting the self-titled “walking meme” would change your life forever?

Chapter word count: 1.9k

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Part Six // Part Seven // Part Eight

“Questions? What sort of questions?”

The light breeze blew a piece of hair in front of your eyes as you looked up at Carter, the cameraman in charge of the behind-the-scenes snippet for the latest British GQ shoot. You placed your camera gently on the sunlounger beside the pool, brows slightly furrowed. The Californian sun burned into your skin, but being used to shooting in locations where temperatures dominated even this, sun cream had become a part of your daily routine no matter the area. One could never be too careful, you’d learned that the hard way.

“I don’t know, one’s that are a bit… Out there,” Carter replied, and you roll your eyes. “Here, this is what I’ve put,” he said, handing you one of the pieces of paper from the baseball cap.

“‘If you could meet anyone from history, who would it be?’ Wow, very out there.” You folded the paper back up and grabbed another, shaking your head at the mention of a penis. “Alright, I guess I can come up with something. When’s he getting here anyway? Don’t tell me he’s being a drama queen.”

You had done enough shoots where the cover star had been quite the diva that it had gotten to the point where you always half expected it. Of course, a great number of people had proven you wrong, but judging was a hard habit to break. You had never been introduced to Tom before and from what you’d heard, he was a lovely guy who hadn’t let fame go to his head. Yet.

“No, Warren’s just doing the last touches I think,” Carter said, leaning over your shoulder to read the question you were writing. He laughed and took his notebook back after your piece of paper had been ripped from the book to be folded into the hat. “That one’s gonna cause a stir with the fans if he answers it!”

“Well there’s nothing wrong with a bit of drama,” you grinned wickedly and gave Carter a wink as he headed back into the rented house to set his own camera up to film the short video once you’d finished with Tom yourself.

The sound of laughter made you look up a few minutes later and you hastily tossed a shirt over one of the sunloungers, finishing off your touch to the set. Carter made his way back over, followed by Tom. You had to double take, caught slightly off guard by the sun hitting his golden tan, making him shimmer slightly. Well, there was no denying he was gorgeous. 

“And this is [Y/N]. She’ll be the one bossing you about for the day.”

You shook your head and gave Tom a warm smile. “Just look good for the camera and no bossing about will be needed,” you smirked. “I’m sure you won’t struggle with that anyway. Right, let’s get started.”

Tom was a complete natural. He eased into the shoot in no time, effortlessly pulling off his poses. In fact, it was quite distracting. During your time as a professional photographer, you had come across incredibly good looking men, but there was just something about Tom that stood out. His personality shone through in the photos and you took some great ones of him laughing. Those were your favourites.

“You wanna have a break before the next outfit change?” you asked, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You loved the heat, but boy was it scorching. You put your camera down next to your laptop and found the snack table, grabbing a plate to fill with sliced watermelon. “I think we’ll go inside for the next ones,” you said, glancing up at Tom who had come to take some food too. “I don’t know about you, but I’m just about dying in this heat.”

Tom laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I don’t think photos of me drenched in sweat will look that great.” He reached over to pick a handful of strawberries and your cheeks warmed at the sight of his chest in front of your face, very much dripping with sweat.

“Well, I beg to differ,” you found yourself saying, then gave a chuckle to brush the comment away. “There’s towels inside if you want to wipe yourself down.”

“How long have you been doing this?” asked Tom as you both made your way inside, instantly feeling the cool air from the fans in the corner. He popped a strawberry into his mouth and swiped one of the hand towels from a table. “You just seem a bit young, no offence.”

You shrugged a shoulder and told him no offence was taken. “I’ll actually be twenty-one this weekend. You’re not the first one to question my age,” you hummed, joining him on the couch. “I’m just lucky to catch a break so early, I guess. I’m sure you can say the same.”

His face lit up and he smiled softly. “I’m just waiting for it all to fall apart,” he admitted and, catching your small frown, quickly added, “I know I’m lucky and being Spider-Man is… Well it’s awesome! It doesn’t seem real sometimes, is what I’m saying.”

It was refreshing to hear his humbleness. “Are you used to the attention yet? I think just about everyone wants a piece of you. I mean, we had to fight to shoot this cover!”

The comment made him laugh and he shook his head. “Well I better make it worth it!” He pulled a leg up onto the couch as he relaxed into the cushions. “I don’t mind it actually. It’s part of the job, isn’t it? I’ve had moments where I’ve freaked out and I start to question how I’m going to live this life,” he told you, eyes a little wide. “But I’ve met some great friends on set, like Zendaya. The amount of times I’ve rang her in a panic! She’s so good at handling it and is so good at talking me through all this.”

“Are you and Zendaya…?”

“What? No! She’s just one of my best friends.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone answer a question so fast,” you teased, unable to hide your smirk. You raised a brow and laughed softly at his flushed cheeks. “I’m just messing with you,” you snorted and gave his shoulder a gentle shove.

His smile made your stomach flutter and you focused on your snack to try and hide the way your cheeks reddened, but you could still feel his dark eyes lingering on your face. 

“You’ve got a bit of…” Tom gestured to his chin. “Juice.”

Your head shot up and you frowned before wiping your chin quickly with the back of your hand. “God, remind me never to eat melon again when there’s company,” you muttered, almost entirely sure your skin had turned as red as a tomato. 

“Maybe you should be the one with the towel.” His laugh was infectious and you found yourself easily joining in.

The photoshoot soon picked up again before you lost the light from the setting sun. A golden hue illuminated the rooms, only making it harder for you not to get distracted by the man you were photographing. A part of you wished it was the middle of winter just because it would mean Tom would actually have a top on. He changed into a few different outfits, from a deep blue, loose pyjama style suit to a proper shirt and jacket that he must have been roasting in. You continued to snap away when everyone took another break to munch on the Chinese takeaway one of the guys had ordered, taking some of your favourite photos of him joking around with the guys. 

Eventually, when you ran out of charge on both your spare batteries, the camera was put down and you all settled in the living room to start recording the special snippet with Tom.

“You look so worried,” you noted with a smirk as the actor got comfortable on the couch in front of the tripod. You leaned back against the dining table just behind the camera and sneakily looked him up and down. Blue was definitely his colour. 

“Alright, just introduce yourself whenever you’re ready and we’ll go from there,” Carter nodded and gave Tom a quick thumbs up to let him know the camera began recording.

It was clear that Tom had done a lot of videos like this before, coming off at ease with the introduction and then he began to pick questions from the hat on his lap. Carter’s was the first to be answered and you couldn’t help but smile at his answer. You weren’t expecting Winston Churchill. He kept finding you as he spoke, barely looking at the camera.

“‘Kill or keep’,” Tom read aloud after picking another piece of paper and visibly cringed at the question. “‘Tobey Maguire or Andrew Garfield?’ Who put that one in there?” he asked, scanning the small amount of people in the room. His eyes found you and you gave him a sheepish grin, your own eyes sparkling. He shook his head and returned your smile as he stretched his arm over the back of the couch. “Oh, that’s a tough one… I’m gonna have to say Andrew Garfield because… I love him and he’s killing it right now.”

A few more questions were picked out and answered, one particular response going off on a tangent about not being able to chop off a nipple-sized penis. You weren’t in charge of editing the video, but you knew for sure some of his explanation wasn’t GQ-friendly and would have to be cut. 

“I can’t believe you made me pick between each Spider-Man,” Tom said, coming up behind you as you packed away your laptop. “I still feel so torn about it!”

“Yeah, well life’s full of tough decisions. I just don’t know how Tobey will take the news you think he’s a shit Spider-Man.” 

“If I’d said Andrew, he would have killed me,’ he replied, chuckling gently. He watched you zip up your bags and nibbled lightly on his lower lip. “What are you doing this weekend? For your birthday, I mean,” he said, trying his best to sound casual.

You pursed your lips to hold back a smile. “No idea. I was supposed to be going out with my flatmate for a few drinks since I go back home tomorrow, but I don’t know how long it’ll take me to edit all these photos. Deadlines aren’t put on hold because it’s my birthday,” you shrugged and pulled your bag up over your shoulder.

“Oh. Right. Well you should definitely go out for drinks,” he nodded, running his fingers through his soft curls. “I just thought… Well if your flatmate’s busy for whatever reason, I could always, well, take you out. I’m flying home tonight so I’ll be there for a few days and it’s a big birthday after all and you don’t wanna waste it editing some shit photos - not that I’m saying they’re shit, I just mean-”

“We can go for a drink or two,” you interrupted, his rambling giving you those damned butterflies again. “How about I text you and we’ll sort something, yeah?”

Were you really asking for his number? Were you that predictable to do what pretty much any girl would kill for?

“Yeah, sounds great to me,” he nodded quickly and took the phone you offered to type in his number. 

“Well we’ll sort something out, but I’ve got to get going. If I plan on getting drunk with Spider-Man, I should start on these edits as soon as possible.”

You resisted the urge to lean up to give his cheek a kiss and instead went with an incredibly lame wave on your way out of the house. The thought of seeing him again in just a few days got you incredibly excited. Saturday really couldn’t come quick enough.

A/N: Credit for photographer idea goes to Anna. Read her fics, they’re bomb.

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[rui31]

Alpha Stiles Part 3

An update because @superfamilylove reminded me I was writing this before my masters killed my writing inspo.

I’ll try to finish this as I actually really enjoy it. Just a note; I never watched Teen Wolf passed Allison dying because FUCK THAT NOISE. So I cannot reference any of what happened afterward cuz I have no idea and I don’t know any of the character, ie Ethan and Theo?, so don’t expect them in here.

ONWARDS INTO MY BOYLOVE MADNESS

Derek spends the rest of the day in relative peace, he wanders the town until he finds the local garage. He gets hired on the spot by some harried looking kid, rambling that the regular mechanic was on mat leave and the cars we’re starting to pile up and he didn’t know shit about engines and brake mechanics and....

“What the hell even is this thing?” he asks, flailing a piece of machinery between the two of them

“The transmission,” Derek answers hesitantly, not sure if this kid is seriously like this or pulling his leg.

“Not to mention Jackson had to bring in his car for an oil change and OFCOURSE it’s the newest Ferrari, because his father bought it for him as a graduation gift. Not saying I’m jealous, but dude...” the guy ends with some gurgling noises and flops back on the desk chair, banging his head on the table softly. “Ryma will serve me my ass if I lose him as a client.”

“I can work today if you need,” Derek offers, slightly off kilter by how the guy is acting.

“You serious?” he demands. “oh my god that’s great, super great.  Dan should be coming in any time now, but Dan is old and he forgets things. He’s reliable and knows a shit ton of stuff, but I would not have him near my car.”

“So.... should I get started?” Derek asks instead of trying to discern what this kid, who’s obviously on some sort of drug, is saying.

“Yeah, sure. Let me show you around. Names Louis by the way,” and the guy, Louis, is grabbing some keys off the wall and opening the back door.

           He works on that kids, Jackson?, car first. He’s half impressed with the car also but still feels like it could never match up to his Camaro. Dan comes in around the same time he’s done, giving him a nod and walking over to another car.  They don’t really speak as they work, Dan turns on the little radio and plays some old blues music, the melodies smoothing over the jarring sounds of the electric drills and sander.

Derek turns to work on a hunkered old jeep that’s painted an obnoxious lime green next. He’s changing out the old brakes when Louis drops off some Chinese for him and Dan. The guy chats him up a bit, gushing about his girlfriend and complaining about the office work still left for him to do.

           He cleans up after the three of them, picking up the white delivery boxes and chopsticks. Derek is grateful for the food and the companionship, though he probably didn’t show it what with his face in a half frown as he fought with the jeeps old screws.

           Derek is shooed out of the garage at 8, Louis fixing up his shaggy brown hair behind his ears and his cheeks a dusty pink from excitement is rambling with nerves about his hot date. Dan pats the both of them firmly on the shoulder after lighting up a cigarette. He sets off on a slow pace into the dark and Derek doesn’t comment on the fact he hadn’t heard the man speak all day. He goes back to his own car after seeing Louis slide into a car with a curly haired girl with glasses.

           He’s back at the motel room, exhausted and fully dressed, staring at his bed and, instead of falling into it and sleeping like a normal person, he’s fighting with the anxiety that’s kicking in. Panic seeps into him and he sits on the chair in the corner of the room, cradling his forehead in his hands as he takes deep and even breaths. Meeting the alpha and getting the job still hadn’t erased the feeling of dread and engulfing loneliness. His instincts are screaming at him to stay awake, stay on guard, knowing hunters are nearby and being without his pack.

           He falls into some sort of meditation, keeping his eyes closed, he lets everything fall back to hear and smell, letting the rest of his mind rest. He comes to when there’s a knock at his door, he’s half jolting in panic when he realizes its Stiles and, by the time he opens the door, he’s back in control.

“Yooo, so I came to see you. Heard you got a job at Ryma’s place,” he grins at Derek. “You look like shit man. Did you sleep?”

“No,” Derek answers, his voice hoarse and dry.  He swallows thickly and turns back into the room, keeping the door open so Stiles can follow him in.

“You staying here?” he asks incredulously, sitting up on the coffee table.    

           Derek grunts his response as he wanders over to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He walks back into the room, wiping his mouth with the small hand towel and Stiles is squinting around the room and back at Derek. He feels his heart race for a second but chalks it off to the lack of sleep before walking over to his luggage and pulling out a spare shirt.

           There’s a shift in the room and Derek looks over his bare shoulder at Stiles, who’s twitching on the table and coughing.

“Nice tattoo,” he says to fill the silence. “What is it?”

“A triskelion,” Derek answers.

“Cool, how did you keep it there? I mean, Scott wanted to get one a couple of years ago but it faded/healed in like a day,” Stiles rambles and Derek cocks his head at him.

“You need to use fire.”

“Fire great so?”

“A blowtorch in my case and very steady hands,” Derek smirks and Stiles sighs.

“Ofcourse,” there’s silence as Derek throws his dirty laundry in the growing pile.

“Sooo....” Stiles fills in, jumping off all fluid and he’s suddenly in Derek’s space. “I know I said you’d have to speak to Scott and all, but he’s not going to be back for another couple of months. And you can’t keep living here. I’m pretty sure we exorcised a ghost at this place in highschool.”

“I’m going to find a place,” Derek tells him, his eyebrows scrunching down in confusion.

“And also are you sure you’re related to Peter because that guy was crazy and you’re...”

“Not?” Derek offers.

“Broody and you have that whole tall, dark and mysterious thing going for you,” Stiles says instead.

“I can rip your throat out with my teeth,” Derek replies, looking at Stiles sideways and the alpha breaks out into chuckles.

“Come on, you’ve met the ladies. I have some of the guys meeting us for breakfast. You don’t have work yet right?” he asks and Derek shrugs, grabbing his jacket and his wallet as they leave the room.

“Cool because Isaac has been hounding me with questions and Boyd has just been staring at me all amused and I just can’t handle them anymore.”

“It’s been a day since I got here,” Derek says and Stiles groans.

“I know right? But Scott knows how to deal with Isaac and I’m just floundering around with him,” he sighs and Derek stops his hand as it wanders over to pat him on the shoulder.

           They walk into the same diner and the waitress, Tara he remembered, is walking towards him with a warm hello honey and a smile that Derek matches without even thinking about it. She guides them over to a booth when he says others will be joining them and looks over at Stiles when the guy doesn’t say anything.

“You smiled,” he says at last and Derek barely looks up from where he’s flipping through the menu.

“I do that sometimes yes,” and he’s trying not to think about how tired he feels right now, how warm and safe in the presence of this kid, that the words on the menu are blurring together.

           He sighs heavily and looks up at Stiles when the guy remains quiet.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks and Derek smiles weakly, or tries anyways, he doesn’t know if his lips quirk up or not.

“Just tired, I haven’t been sleeping well,’ he responds.

“Why?” Stiles inquires. “I mean, I know what happened with the fire. Peter told us everything and it was basically why most of us got turned but...he killed Kate right and...”

“I’m an omega,” Derek explains, sipping his coffee when Tara brings their drinks without even asking. “Which means I don’t have the comfort of a pack as you do. You feel their presence so you know you’re safe because they’re close enough to be there if you’re in trouble. The last time I was here, my house had just burned down killing my parents and a couple of my cousins. My uncle ordered my sisters and I to leave, basically kicking us out of the pack. The place was swarming with hunters and wannabe hunters itching to put a bullet in our skulls at any sign of aggression. We barely made it out here in one piece and being back here after all this time,” Derek sighs again, grasping the cup tighter so the heat of the coffee could burn into his palms, the pain helping him focus as his eyes glow in the already bright room. “Everything has changed and yet, some things are the same. This place, the vet, it’s like there are two realities fighting in my head right now. The one I’m in and the one I left behind. The lack of sleep isn’t really helping either.”

“I can tell, those were a lot of words for guy who barely spoke the day before and dashed out of my presence,” Stiles says and Derek grins up tiredly.

“Yo Stiles,” a guy says, standing at the table. “Did you order yet?”

“Nah, Isaac this is Derek. Derek Isaac.” Stiles introduces and then there’s another guy slipping into the booth next to Derek. “That’s Boyd.”

           He nods to both and he’s suddenly more awake than before, Isaac and Stiles are arguing about breakfast foods and Boyd is silently texting on his phone, sometimes eyeing Derek sideways.

“Erica says hi,” he says suddenly and Derek fumbles out a greeting when Tara is back, taking their orders in stride and waltzing away.

“So Kira was right, he’s not like Peter at all,” Isaac says when she’s out of earshot. “I mean he doesn’t even have the crazy eyes, he just looks sad.”

“Isaac,” Stiles groans.

“No but seriously, I mean Chris said not to judge but Peter was a psychopath,” he continues undeterred. “Just wondering if it was hereditary.”

“Chris?” Derek asks and Stiles reaches over to grab Isaac, but the guy either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

“Yeah, Argent?” he replies, shrugging off Stiles’ hand. “Allison’s father.”

“His girlfriend,” Boyd supplies helpfully, barely looking up from his phone.

“I’m going to kill you all,” Stiles growls, turning to look at Derek worryingly as his face shuts down.

“I knew they were still here,” Derek says and Stiles smiles tightly.

“They’re not Kate,” he supplies but Derek wants out, wants to leave because everything in him is screaming and he’s barely keeping it together.

           Boyd’s hand on his shoulder is a shock, Stiles, reaching over the table, holding unto his wrists right above where he’s clenching his hands, they’re both solid presences that give him something to center himself but he’s still shaken.

“We won’t let anything happen to you,” Stiles says and Boyd grunts in agreement.

“Why are we promising this?” Isaac asks, leaning back on the booth with his arms crossed. “Peter turned most of us, he tried to kill ALL of us, we don’t owe his nephew anything.”

“We owe him common decency,” Stiles snaps back and his eyes flash a quick red. “No one should be judged by what their families have done, you should know that best of all Isaac.”

           There’s silence and the curly haired boy frowns; the food comes at that point, breaking the silence temporarily. Tara frowns at Derek and asks if he’s alright, she doesn’t seem pleased with his quick shrug and walks away, glaring back over her shoulder at the other boys.

“Stiles mentioned you’re staying at that dingy motel,” Boyd says around a mouthful of waffles.

           Derek, focusing on his plate of eggs, grunts in response.

“I know a place, it’s not too expensive and it’s got some personality if you’re into that kind of thing,” Boyd continues and Derek stares at him sideways, still poking at the eggs.

“Eat Derek,” Stiles commands and he barely has it in him to snap back, so instead he shoves a forkful of runny eggs unto a piece of toast and then his mouth.

“Oh you mean the place Danny had that rave once?” Isaac comments, pouring a hefty amount of syrup on his pancakes.

           Stiles sighs again and turns a pleading look to Boyd.

“Yeah, it was nice,” he says instead.

“Well it held our whole grade plus most of our upper class men,” Isaac adds.

“Look can we not have the selling point of that place being that we went there for a rave like 8 years ago?” Stiles pleads.

“We can bring you there when we’re done,” Boyd supplies and Derek nods in agreement, mostly because if that place could hold a rave then it could definitely hold himself & his sisters comfortably.

           Turns out the place, when it’s not packing, is a pretty low-key apartment with an almost industrial style with its spirally metal staircase and brick walls. Derek likes it, likes the tall windows and the high ceilings, and when it turns out to cost less that his dingy apartment in New York, he doesn’t stop himself from signing the lease. His landlord is almost crying in gratitude when Derek hands him the cheque.

           The guys help him pack up his meager possessions and drop them off, but Derek has work and he’s almost grateful to leave the presence of the three guys. Not because any of them are being particularly strenuous in their interactions with him, but because he can’t handle being around people anymore.

           When he gets back home that night, he phones his sisters to tell them he got a place and tries his best to describe it as best as possible when he can’t send over some pictures. Laura sounds concerned and Cora wants him out when she finds out the Argents are still there. The three stay on the phone for a while and Derek tries his best to console the two through the distance.

           The place is barren and he’s left to curl up against a wall, facing the doorway, and his phone cradled in his hands. The place smells of the guys, of Stiles and Derek doesn’t know if it’s because of that, but he nods off.