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hoodharlow · 3 years

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Stuck with Nowhere to Go

El Novio Quarantine Edition: Part 1

AN: This is part one of El Novio week and I'm gonna be posting a new part for this mini series everyday until April 17. Thank you to everyone that has been supporting me and following Cal and Claudia's story. I love y'all so mucha nd hope y'all enjoy this.

Requested?

Warnings: smut, brief quarantine talk, a small arguement. and overall Claudia being h word for Cal

Word Count: 3.1 k

Calum gently pushed Claudia against the mattress, getting in a more comfortable position as they devoured each other. With one hand balancing himself, so he wouldn't squish Claudia, he used the other to unbutton the flannel she wore. He slid his hand inside her shirt and gave her breast soft squeeze before sliding down to her soaked-through panties.

Frustrated with his teasing touches, Claudia tried to roll him onto the mattress. But he wouldn't budge.

"Cal," She whined against his lips, jutting her hips against his to feel some sort of relief.

"Pretty girl, I know, but your parents are across the hall." Calum mumbled before kissing down her neck.

"It's been three weeks. Please," She sighed. "I'll be quiet."

"Fine, but you have to be quiet. For our sake." She eagerly nodded at him before he continued. "I'm only going to eat you out okay?"

"But—"

"Later okay? When we get to our house, you can have your way with me. I promise." He held out his pinky to her.

"Okay." She pouted, wrapping her pinky around his.

Calum sat on his knees and slipped off his shirt. He tossed it to the side before towering over her once more. A giggle escaped Claudia when he sponged kisses all over her face.

Having enough of his teasing, she pulled his lips back to hers. She wrapped her leg over his waist, helping her stay balanced as she grinded herself against him. Claudia was basking in having the upper hand that she didn't feel Calum's fingers slip in her panties.

He skillfully slipped his ring and middle fingers in her, causing her to loudly gasp and stop all her moments.

"What's wrong, pretty girl?" He whispered in her ear, making her whine. “Want these off?” Calum asked her, toying with the waistband of her panties.

“Please.” She nodded eagerly. He gently patted her ass so she could lift her hips up.

Once Calum slipped her panties off, he situated himself in front of her core. “All this for me pretty girl?” Calum asked. He placed soft kisses on the insides of her thighs. She squirmed at the feeling of his lips. They got closer and closer to where she needed him the most.

She let out an inaudible gasp of pleasure when Calum licked her. She tried closing her legs, but Calum’s grip on them kept her in place. He softly moaned at her taste and savored her, taking his time with his tongue. He pushed one of her legs to her chest, giving him better access to her.

He inserted another while he pressed his thumb on her clit. Claudia felt something build up in her. She felt pleasantly overwhelmed with Calum’s fingers and tongue. Calum felt it too. He sped up his fingers and circled his thumb on her clit roughly.

She moaned out, not caring who heard her, but he grabbed a pillow and covered her face. Calum lapped up her release. He dropped her legs down and laid next to her.

“Happy album release day,” Claudia whispered excitedly after catching her breath.

He grumbled his response, making her giggle. He rolled to his side and traced his thumb under her bottom lip, giving her a quick peck. He got up to the bathroom to finish himself off, but Claudia had other ideas.

“No, let me,” Claudia said. She sat up and pulled him back by the waistband of his boxers. She brightly up at him, with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Se me antoja un chorizo.”

“The kitchen is downstairs, Claudia.” He told her prying her hands off him.

“Cal, please let me suck your dick.” She fake cried.

“No, go get ready. We were supposed to be on the road by now. But someone doesn’t know how to keep her hands to herself.” He said before closing her bathroom door. He popped his head out once more. “You better be ready when I’m done.”

***

Calum watched Claudia skip down the steps of Ashton's house when it finally hit him. The last he saw her wear the dress she currently wore was when they went to Coachella the year before. It was probably his favorite dress on her, even if he's only seen her in it once.

"That's the last of them." Claudia said sliding onto the passenger seat. She has baked 'CALM' cakes for the guys in their favorite flavors along with sugar cookies shaped in their initials and in their instruments.

She took off her mask and reached for her now watered down iced coffee. She made a face and set it down in the cup holder. "This is nasty. I fucking hate almondmilk." she mumbled before taking another sip.

"Why are you still drinking it?"

"I have to finish it. It was like five bucks."

Calum shook his head, hiding his smile. He reached for his army green Hydro Flask and took a long sip of water. He capped it and started the car. Pulling the car into reverse, he gripped Claudia's head rest a little tighter as he felt her gaze on him. As he got out of the spot, he watched Claudia shift around in her seat.

"You really have a parallel parking kink." Calum laughed as they left Ashton's neighborhood.

"I do not." Claudia scoffed, crossing her arms.

"Keep telling yourself that. Your tits don't lie." He said, pinching one of her nipples. She smacked his hand away as he checked that there weren't any cars before turning into the main road.

"The AC isn't even on so can't say you're cold."

"Whatever."

Calum shook his head and drove to the nearest Target. When they got there, Claudia grabbed a homemade disinfectant wipe from her bag and cleaned their cart. They went straight to the electronics section so Calum could get a record player for the live stream later in the evening. The needle broke in the one he had and since Ashton demanded that they play the album in vinyls, he had to get a new record player.

Claudia took the cart after he placed the record player in the shopping cart. She still felt awkward shopping for pads in front of him. They agreed to meet in the alcohol aisle after she hopefully found some pads. Tampons weren't an option. Pandemic or not, the only thing she was having inside of her was Calum.

“They may not have toilet paper but least they have White Claws.” Calum told Claudia as two boxes, one of only black cherry flavor and the other variety pack because Claudia only drank tangerine flavor.

"I managed to get one thing of pads, so it's something." She told him, covering the pads with the other groceries. "I'm just lucky my period ended last week. I have a month to worry about getting more. You have dog food right? Because there's none in the aisles."

"Yeah, bought some when we got back from Medelyn's baby shower, water and toilet paper too." He nodded his head over to the shopping cart. "Is that everything? And what your parents needed too?"

Claudia looked over their shopping cart. It wasn't much but it was enough since the stores set limits on how much to buy because of the lack of ability to restock.

"I think we're good. If we need something we can drive back and steal from Ashton's garden." she joked.

While they waited in line, Claudia thought about how quick her life changed in less than two weeks. Her landlord practically kicked her, Dulce and Sara out and wanted them out by the time spring break started because of mandatory stay at home orders. She was lucky though. Calum took her in and for the meantime she was going to live with him. Though just last week Diego told her to come home. It took her a lot of convincing, but Calum ended up going with her too.

"Your total is $132.76." the cashier told them.

Claudia was barely pulling out her card as Calum scanned his phone in front of the pin pad. He thanked them and nodded Claudia to keep up.

"We agreed that I was going to pay groceries since you don't let me pay for anything else." She told him as he put the groceries in his car.

"I didn't agree to shit." He furrowed an eyebrow.

"Yuh-huh you nodded and waved me off."

He stayed silent, trying to remember if he did. Then it hit him. "Was it when we ordered Mikko's? Because I thought you meant you were paying for that."

"Of course you did, your cheap ass doesn't pay for sushi." she mumbled to herself. "Well I'm paying for groceries from now on."

"I don't like it when you spend money for us when I can pay for them. Especially now that we're both basically jobless. You need that money for school, Claudia." Calum said as they pulled up to the In-N-Out drive thru across the street from Target.

"And I don't like you paying for things that I can afford too." She argued back, but Calum ignored her since he was ordering their lunch.

He had his card ready to pay so there was no way that he was going to let her pay. When he reached the window the computer crashed and they were only accepting cash. Claudia pulled out a twenty, knowing that Calum never carries cash on him unless they're outside of California. He begrudgingly took it and gave it to the cashier.

***

Claudia considered herself a patient person. An elderly person taking their time in front of the ATM, no problem. Her getting cut in line at Starbucks because she was answering a text from Calum and not paying attention to the line, not an issue. Where she did lose her patience was when she would get stuck in traffic.

“The San Ysidro border is faster than this.” Claudia groaned, dropping in her seat after poking her head out of the sun roof.

“Well we would have avoided traffic if someone didn’t need to go back our place to get a fucking coloring book.” Calum muttered under his breath.

He had enough of her complaining. Ever since he got on the I5, that’s all she’s been doing. They’ve been stuck for over four hours and it was just her mumbling over and over how she would rather be waiting to cross the border than be stuck in the freeway. Even Claudia during her period was less irritable than this. Before she could get a word in, he turned up the volume on the true crime podcast they were listening to.

Ironically it was about a couple where the girlfriend murdered her boyfriend and disposed of his body by a lake in the very same freeway they were on.

Calum glanced over to Claudia. She was curled up, leaning against the window playing tetris on her phone. He rotated his neck and hands in hopes that he loosened up, but nothing worked. He knew he shouldn't have said that to her. It wasn't her fault that there was traffic.

"Cal…" Claudia said quietly, reaching down to lower the volume.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be getting all irritated when I was the one who suggested that you take me back to your house. Because of me we're stuck in traffic and—"

"Claudia, you have nothing to apologize for. You're not the one who caused the traffic. If someone should be apologizing, it should be me. I'm just stressed out because of the album dropping tonight and I'm taking my nerves out on you. So I'm sorry for being a fucking cunt."

"Apology accepted." she giggled.

Claudia leaned over the center console and kissed his cheek. Slowly, she descended down to his neck And sucked under his jaw, making him jerk the car.

"Ashton needs me alive for at least tonight." Calum said, gently prying her off of him. He adjusted his shorts and looked toward the road.

Not even five minutes later, Claudia was toying with a loose string on Calum's shorts. Her hand occasionally bumped into his crotch. Wordlessly she unbuckled her seatbelt and tried reaching for her purse in the backseat. It gave Calum a great view of the nude lace panties she wore.

Before he tried anything, she sat back down and pulled out some nail clippers. Claudia bent over the center console once more and clipped the string with them. She rubbed his thigh and laid her head in the console. Her fingertips deftly smoothed down his leg hairs.

"What are your thoughts on road head?" Claudia asked. She tiptoed her fingers up his thigh, slowly inching to semi hard on.

"I don't know, never thought about it." He answered her, swallowing hard with his gaze glued on the road.

"Really? Like you never thought of me choking on your dick while you're driving?" She pushed herself up from the console and sat criss-cross applesauce. "I have. The thought of you guiding my mouth over your dick surrounded by other cars, clueless to what we're doing. All I have to say is thank fuck for your tinted windows."

He watched from the corner of his eye. She had pulled down her dress, exposing her breasts and her panties were on the dash. One of her hands disappeared under her dress while the other was tweaking her nipples. She whimpered Calum's name loudly as her fingers sped up.

Calum pulled her hand away and licked her fingers cleaned. He slipped his and continued where she left off. With one hand on the steering wheel he brought her to her orgasm. Her hips chased his fingers as he stopped thrusting them in her and only rubbed her clit. Once her high relaxed, he slipped his fingers out of her and licked them.

He pumped a quarter size amount of hand sanitizer in his hand, cleaning his hands, and kept driving.

He looked over to Claudia and smirked. "Thank fuck for tinted windows, huh Claudia."

***

Claudia was bundled up in her room so she wouldn’t disrupt Calum during the livestream. She went downstairs to get her water and a snack after hearing 'Not in the Same Way.' She bumped into Calum in the kitchen, who was getting another White Claw.

"Hey," she said kissing his cheek.

"Miss you." Calum said in between kisses.

Before she said anything, Michael's yelling that he was a pickle echoed through the kitchen. Calum gave her a look and went back to the living room. Duke tried getting on the couch but failed.

"I leave for a fucking second and you're a fucking pickle." Calum said, trying his best not to laugh.

He picked up Duke and sat him in his lap. Panchito wandered over and hopped on the couch and used Duke's bed as a pillow.

"Uh… this is Panchito. He's the Santos' family dog." Calum said introducing the blue heeler puppy to the 40 thousand people watching. "He's about four months old and just sleeps all day with Duke."

The livestream went on until Michael's phone died and Calum continued with Luke. But just before Michael signed off, he thanked Claudia for making the CALM cakes and cookies. Calum struggled a bit to get Luke connected, but he managed once Claudia hopped in and showed him how. He gave her a sheepish thank you and watched her curl up on the opposite end of the couch.

At some point during Calum and Luke's segment, they strayed off their music and discussed cake flavors. When Claudia heard Luke say that he's not a big fan of red velvet cake, she bit back her comment about Luke eating a few slices of red velvet cake at Calum's birthday party the year before. If Claudia knew how to do one thing, that's bake a good red velvet cake.

By the time Calum finished the livestream and his phone call with Luke, Claudia had fallen asleep. He signaled the dogs to follow him outside so they can do their nightly business before going to bed. He guided them back to their respective kennels and secured the doors, so they couldn't escape to go ruin Soni's plants.

"Claudia," Calum said softly. He gently nudged her awake. "Let's go upstairs."

"Fuck, did I fall asleep?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Yeah, surprisingly since you took about four naps today." he teased her.

"Oh shush." she grumbled, folding the blanket she covered herself with.

They quietly went to the guest room where Calum was sleeping to watch a movie. Not even fifteen minutes into the movie, Claudia and Calum were devouring each other. Her hand lazily stroked his length through his sweats as Calum's hands ran over her thighs and ass.

"We should get on the floor, the bed squeaks too much." Claudia said when pulled away from Calum to take off her hoodie.

She got off from the bed and grabbed a duvet from the closet and laid it on the floor. She grabbed some of the decorative pillows and arranged them neatly so they could lay on them. Calum followed suit and shedded off his sweater and sweatpants. He laid back on the duvet and took in Claudia. She sat in his lap in nothing but a light grey bralette and matching panties she got at Aerie. It wasn't an overall sexy set, but it still sent him spiralling.

She leaned down and captured Calum's lips with hers. He let out an incoherent grumble as Claudia rocked her hips against his cock. He slowly inched his hands up her thighs, feeling his way around until he found her ass. He roughly gripped her ass and began guiding her along his clothed cock.

“Can you fucking wait?” Claudia giggled, pulling away from his lips. She sat back up on his lap and took off her bralette. “I wanna take care of you.”

“I don’t want you to.” He said.

“You better remember that the next time you get a stomach ache for eating too many chilaquiles.”

Claudia drummed his chest and got up from the floor. She reached for Calum’s hoodie and tied her hair in a bun.

“Where are you going?” Calum asked her confused.

“You don’t want my help, so I don’t see what I’m doing here.” She shrugged.

She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and gave him a small salute before leaving his room. She waited outside, knowing he was going to go after her. A few seconds later he opened the door and pulled her inside.

“I’m kidding, I need you.” Calum said peppering kisses all over her face.

“That’s what I thought.” She said, triumphantly. She got down on her knees and tugged down Calum’s sweats. She licked her lips and looked up at him. “Now let me show you how proud I am of your album.”

“What would you rank it?”

“Definitely one of your top four.”

Taglist: @f-mu @another-lonely-heart @sunshinebabycal-deactivated2021 @calumscalm @karajaynetoday @cherryxwildflower @myloverboyash @idontneedanyone @findingliam-o @5-secondsofcolor @spicylftv @sexgodashton @fckingpernico @2fangirl4u @calpops

#calum hood smut #calum hood imagine #calum hood fanfic #calum hood one shot #calum hood fluff #calum hood imagines #el novio series #el novio quarantine edition

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 1-16: 命运的拐点 Destiny’s Turning Point Translation

“Destiny is like a gust of wind… Red leaves flutter, flying away in the face of it. And it is when the winds pick up ― That you meet once more…”

“Rather than daydreaming all day, thinking about how you can soar higher, perhaps you’d be better off first learning how to walk.”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

I failed. And right when I was just a step away from becoming the champion too.

I felt an odd sense of heaviness overwhelm me during the long time it took for the curtain call to end, something that I’d never felt before. It was sort of a mixture of both an inexplicable sense of dissatisfaction and suspicion.

I don’t know how or when I got myself off the stage.

Sariel’s words echoed in my mind. He said that I’d completely disregarded the essence of what it means to be a Fashion Designer… But what exactly does he mean by that?

All the contestants walking in front of me were relieved beyond measure that it was all over now, but the more I thought about it, the more confused I got. I walked towards a quieter place alone.

The courtyard garden at the foot of the corridor appeared serene and mysterious at night. The bright moonlight filtered down, shining upon the flowers and leaves alike. The night breeze carried along with it the faint fragrance of flowers.

❖☆———————————★❖

I lowered my head and glanced at the potted plant by my feet. It was a flower yet to fully bloom, with many smaller flower buds hidden beneath its wide leaves, which were gently rubbing against my ankle.

It was akin to a small pet that was showing affection to its owner in a bid to comfort them.

Despite knowing that the notion of comfort was merely an illusion caused by the night breeze, I still couldn’t help but feel my heart warm.

MC: Thanks…

It was then that I heard the squeak of the glass doors opening to admit another.

Illuminated under the moonlight, the lanky figure gradually walked closer

❖☆———————————★❖

A crisp white suit and a pair of icy eyes.

MC: Sariel…

He looked a little appalled to see me here, but that flicker of emotion was soon concealed.

Sariel didn’t speak. He directed his gaze past me, staring at the plants within the garden. His eyes reflected the faint moonlight, appearing as beautiful as coloured glass.

He looked surprisingly serene here, compared to the frostiness he’d displayed back up on stage earlier.

However, the cold comment he’d given me immediately flashed back in my mind just as I was musing about this.

❖☆———————————★❖

Sariel: You absolutely do not understand the meaning of your given theme at all.

❖☆———————————★❖

My head had been in a mess back then, so I totally missed the chance to enquire further about it.

Perhaps his being here right now was fate’s way of giving me another chance to do so.

MC: M-Mr. Sariel…!

Sariel silently turned his gaze over. His eyes were as calm as ever, the only difference was his slightly furrowed eyebrows.

MC: I’m (Y/n), one of the participating Fashion Designers of the contest today.

Sariel: I know.

MC: I really like your works, and I’ve always seen you as my role model.

Sariel: So?

MC: So…

★Night Choice: Read his body language and remain silent.

I lapsed into silence the moment I met his gaze.

That look on his face spoke volumes. He didn't even bother hiding the fact that anything I said would fall upon deaf ears.

Sariel: Are you presuming that I'll understand just what it is you're trying to express in your work if I give you a chance to explain yourself?

I looked at him in surprise, nodding.

The sides of his lips immediately curled up into a sneer.

Sariel: The organizer prepared hundreds upon hundreds of material choices. You clearly had the choice of choosing a more suitable material, yet you still used the most unfitting material: 80 twist Black Chiffon.

MC: That's because I wanted to express the tenacity of "Fashion Designers".

Sariel: You're only creating this to realize your idea.

Sariel: Be it high twist Black Chiffon, or those blasphemous roses that clash so terribly bad that it leaves people speechless...

Sariel: Everything merely falls under your own "Design Ideas", with no consideration whatsoever about whether this is the right way to go about making it into an actual product.

☆Light Choice: Explain your design choice

MC: So, I want to know why you think I don’t understand the theme. I hope I can explain just what the ideas that went into my design are.

I originally thought that he’d outright refuse me, but he never interrupted me, and neither did he leave. He’d only watched me calmly as I rattled off. Does this mean that he acquiescences with me?

I mustered up my courage and started rattling off my explanation.

MC: I chose to use Black Chiffon with the highest twist available, 80 twists high, not just because it can attain and support the design I wanted to go for.

MC: It was also because I felt that it was a good representation of the tenacity of Fashion Designers.

MC: And as for the rose ornaments… I chose it because it represents why I initially wanted to become a Fashion Designer.

MC: I don’t know others will go about interpreting what the term “Fashion Designer” means, but to me, I feel that…

MC: There is no one answer to this, and there’s also no way one can take it too far in any whichever direction.

After hearing me out, the sides of Sariel’s lips curled into a blatant sneer.

Sariel: So, you think that the problem here lies with the way you think, and hence, your idea. That’s why you’re trying so hard to explain and make it clear to me, am I right?

MC: …Is it not?

Sariel: Your sheer lack of understanding is astounding.

Sariel: 80 twist Black Chiffon might be able to support and display the design you wish for it to. But for something that’s being made into a top hat, this high twist amount is the most unsuitable for the task.

Sariel: You’ve chucked the elegance aside, completely disregarded the volume it is supposed to have, and most importantly, it is utterly uncomfortable to wear.

Sariel: There are better ways you could represent “Roses” if you so wished. You shouldn’t have forcibly added this artefact that clashes with the whole outlook of the piece to your work.

Sariel: Only mediocre people will wish to attain recognition through their explanations.

Sariel: Everyone out there will only be able to grasp what it is you’re trying to convey through your work.

Sariel: In your work… That’s if we can even call that a piece of work…

Sariel: I don’t know why you have placed so much sentiment into it. So much, that it has totally lost its purpose as a hat.

He was surprisingly serious when it came to talking about design itself, much unlike the arrogance and iciness he’d displayed back on stage.

Sariel: Designers ought to know just what the product is being created for.

Sariel: You do not yet hold the qualities of what it takes to be a good Designer.

Sariel: Rather than daydreaming all day, thinking about how you can soar higher, perhaps you’d be better off first learning how to walk.

His words were like a bullet, piercing me right through the heart. I stared at him, stunned and unable to form a single word.

He was absolutely right. I’d always gone straight for the concept. Whilst my heart wanted to explore new concepts within the given theme, it’d also ignored the most important thing.

I bowed to him in utter seriousness.

MC: I understand. I will do my best to correct that. Thank you.

Sariel: … What you intend to do from now on is none of my concern.

It was as if he’d reverted back into the judge, atop a pedestal and far out of reach. A completely different person from the one who’d been seriously discussing my design with me just moments earlier.

Watching his retreating figure, I felt nothing short of conflicted.

It was almost as if I’d gotten the answer to the question that had been nagging at the back of my mind for some time now in this unpleasant exchange of ours.

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 1-14) | Next Part: (Chapter 1-19 Light) / (Chapter 1-19 Night)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #齐司礼 #Sariel #陆沉 #Evan #查理苏 #Charlie #夏鸣星 #Jesse #For Light and Night

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raibebe · 4 years

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Soft core

Genre: Fluff(?) Words: 11,4 k holy shit this is insane Prompt: Jaehyun in his vampire bdsm outfit he wore in the Punch era but make it sfw Warnings: mentions of blood, brief mentions of member x member relationships, brief descriptions of a panic attack

A/N: This was written for Aimee who loves Jaehyun with her whole heart, happy birthday Aimee 💖 I hope you had an amazing day and like this little something. I know you deactivated but I already started writing this a month ago and I’ll post it anyways in the hope you’ll see this someday and a couple of others will enjoy this as well. I have mixed and matched their outfits and tattoos from both the concept photos and the live stages. Also I’m sorry Johnny, but you fit the role of the shameless flirt so well… Bonus points for anyone who spots all cameos. Special thanks to @burtonized who made me keep going with this and listened to all my complaints.

To say you were nervous before starting your first shift at your new job in a reasonably shady bar not too far from your apartment was an understatement. You seriously questioned your own sanity and why you had even applied for the job when you had seen the offer on the beat up wooden entrance door next to an old motorcycle license plate and a bright green neon sign that illuminated the word ‘open’ a couple of days ago. The blue haired man behind the bar had given you a questioning look after you had entered the bar because you couldn’t have looked any more out of place with your soft sweater between the old wooden interior and the leather the barman and a handful of customers were wearing. It had cost all of your courage and a reminder that you needed to find a job for the weekends to walk up to the bar to ask the barman about the job offer. He had asked you a couple of questions like whether you had already waited tables before, which you had (at a place that was lit far better than this one but how different would it be?). The man who had introduced himself as Kun and honestly seemed like a big softie on the inside despite his serious look (it had to be the intense eyebrows) had agreed to hire you on the spot because he had the offer up for a while and no one had come in to ask about it and he couldn’t keep bullying his apparently very chaotic roommates to keep covering the shifts on the busy weekends anymore.

That’s how you found yourself here, a couple of days later on a Friday night, staring at the wooden door yet again (now missing the job offer and not yet illuminated by the neon sign).You took a deep breath and pushed through the door of the bar, this time not looking as out of place as you had before, wearing black skinny jeans and a simple grey v-neck. Kun looked up from where he was wiping down the counter, shooting you a smile. Today he had styled his hair up, exposing his forehead and was wearing a black button up shirt with a bunch of white details that was missing quiet some buttons at the top. “You actually came,” he grinned, “You can put your jacket and bag into the back room.” He pointed to a door with the label ‘staff only’. “We’re opening in half an hour. I’ll introduce you to the others once they decide to arrive.” Nodding you rushed to put your stuff away. You were pleasantly surprised by how clean it was in the back. The beat up interior from the main room was nowhere to be found. So it really didn’t seem too bad if it was only shabby for aesthetic purposes.

After taking a couple of more deep breaths in front of the mirror in the staff room, you felt as prepared as you would ever be and emerged back into the main room of the bar. Next to Kun behind the counter was now another man, clad in the tightest pair of leather pants you had ever seen and a loose, see through black blouse, his long blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, showing off a variety of piercings in his ears that were reflecting the low light of the neon signs. When both men noticed you, the blonde flashed you a bright smile and quickly wiped his fingers on the towel he had used to dry some glasses and held it out for you to shake. “Hi, I’m Ten. Kun told me he had finally found someone willing to help us out on the weekends but he missed to tell me how cute you are. Don’t worry the customers are all nice and if anyone gives you any problems, weird stares or makes inappropriate comments, just tell me immediately and I’ll throw them out,” he introduced himself. You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the image of this petite man throwing drunken men twice his size out of the bar. “Thank you,” you answered before introducing yourself as well. “Would you please wipe down the tables in the back?” Kun asked, handing you a cloth, “The other waiter should be here any minute, so he can walk you through the process.” “You’re all males working here?” You asked shyly while starting to wipe the tall round tables closest to the bar. “Honey, there’s not many woman brave enough to even set a foot in here even though about eighty percent of our regulars and hundred percent of our staff are big softies hiding behind leather jackets and tattoos,” Ten chirped, disappearing beneath the counter to check the tubes of the beer taps.

Speaking of the other staff, as if on queue the door slammed open to reveal a ridiculously tall man with the biggest brown eyes you had ever seen, his platinum hair swept back from his forehead, a huge grin plastered on his face. “Yooo, the poster with the job offer is gone, did you finally find someone?” The man all but shouted, excitedly bouncing up and down on his way to the bar, shucking off his leather jacket and carelessly throwing it on one of the bar stools to reveal toned arms and a strong chest straining his short sleeved black shirt. “Xuxi, indoor voice please,” Kun groaned, massaging his temples. “Oh sorry,” the other man - Xuxi - answered, flashing Kun big puppy eyes. “We did find someone, please don’t scare her off,” Ten answered Xuxi’s initial question, emerging back from under the counter, smashing the door shut, which caused Kun to groan again. “That thing has a handle for a reason,” he sighed. “It keeps opening itself back up otherwise,” the smaller man shrugged, leaning against the now spotless counter, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Wait, her?” Xuxi asked, eyes wide in either excitement or amazement, “As in she? A girl?” “Yes, hello,” you quietly introduced yourself, stepping out from the corner where you had been cleaning the tabletops.

“Wow, you’re so pretty,” Xuxi said instead of a proper introduction when you walked over to where the three men were standing. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks, tinting them a rosy color. Sighing, Kun took the dirty cloth from you and rinsed it in the sink. “This is Xuxi, the other waiter for tonight. As you might have noticed he doesn’t have much of a filter, but i swear he is harmless.” “Just call me Lucas at work, it’s easier,” the man in question grinned, not even bothering to correct Kun and extended a hand for you to shake (needless to say because he was unnecessary tall, his huge hand could almost cover your whole fist). “I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he beamed and even though he had just called you cute, he was definitely the cutest person currently in this room. “Thank you,” you murmured, a smile spreading on your lips because Xuxi’s grin was really infectious and you felt your anxiety disappearing.

In the remaining time before the bar would officially open, Xuxi taught you everything you needed to know. From their system and how you’d take the orders and which tables you would serve to special drinks that weren’t on the menu and what to do if any customers would give you trouble. “There’s probably not much to do for the first two hours or so”, Xuxi concluded, running a hand through his platinum blonde hair, making his muscles dance beneath his shirt, “Like that you can get used to it before it gets packed. Fridays are always busy and there’s a bunch of different people coming. Did any regulars call in before?” He asked the last question to the general direction of the bar. Flipping through a book next to the cash register, Ten nodded. “127 are coming in, they got that big table in the back but other than that, no one called.” “What’s 127?” You asked curiously because that was one of the tables you were supposed to serve. “They’re a group of guys our age, but I’m not really sure what exactly they are to be honest,” Xuxi laughed while fixing the belt that held his wallet before handing you your own one. “I think they are bikers,” Ten supplied, turning around to reorganizing the bottles behind the bar for the third time tonight, “At least some of them have bikes and they sure look the part. Have you seen Johnny’s new tattoo the other week, Xuxi? That must have hurt like hell.” “Yeah, I saw the post with his chestpiece on his Instagram. That man is ripped.” “Well, you’re one to talk,” you murmured under your breath, organizing the contents of the belt to your liking. Laughing out loud, Ten slapped Kun on the chest. “We need to keep her, I like her,” he giggled and Kun just shot you a slightly pained smile, rubbing where Ten’s hand had come down. “Oh come on, old man. I didn’t even hit that hard.” “Stop calling me old, I am literally just two months older than you,” Kun groaned, softly shaking a grinning Ten. Unbothered by the bickering of the two barmen, Xuxi called over from the door: “I’ll switch on the sign!”

Your anxiety came back at full force when the bar started to fill up one hour after it opened. Resisting the urge to hide behind the bar, you approached yet another group of shady looking men to take their orders. Like the other people you had served before, they gave you a weird look while looking up and down your frame once before asking if you were new here. You just nodded and smiled politely while writing down their orders before walking back to the bar where you took out one of the trays and put the note with the order on top so Ten or Kun could put the according drinks on top. “Here, have a little drink, the night is just beginning,” Ten grinned and pushed a glass into your hands before completing the order while somehow also dancing fluently to the music that was playing through the speakers now. You eyed the drink suspiciously, the deep orange color throwing you off a bit. “It’s not spiked, no need to worry,” Xuxi told you, suddenly appearing next to you, placing his own tray with empty glasses onto the counter, winking teasingly before grabbing a colorful bottle to pour a bunch of shots, so Ten and Kun could focus on the other, more complicated drinks on the orders. You drowned the sickly sweet drink quickly and put the glass next to the ones that needed to be rinsed. You mouthed Ten a ‘thank you’ when you picked up your order and he blew you an exaggerated kiss, making you giggle and feel a little more at ease. It was like he had known you were being nervous again.

After checking in with your other tables and earning a big tip from some truckers that actually had been really nice, you made your way back to the bar to help Kun with rinsing the glasses that had been piling up. “You remember those regulars that were coming in tonight?” the blue haired barman suddenly asked, “That’s them.” He nodded towards the door where a group of men were coming in. For a moment, your breath got caught in your throat because Ten hadn’t been wrong earlier when he said that those 127 guys looked like bikers. Honestly anyone of them could have been a model for the leather clothes they were wearing while standing in front of a Harley Davidson or thrashing something with a baseball bat. (Also was one of them wearing a metal harness beneath his leather vest?) “They’re all nice people, no need to worry,” Kun calmed you down, shooting you a reassuring smile before taking the beer glass from your hands that you had started to grip so hard, your knuckles were turning white. “How many are they?” You asked him curiously while eyeing the group as they made their way over to their designated table, greeting other regulars as well as Lucas (one of them was apparently just as incapable of having an indoor voice as him when he loudly yelled ‘Lucas’ before hugging the taller male tightly).

“Yooo, Johnny’s chestpiece looks even more sick in real life,” Lucas said with wide eyes when he came back to the bar. “Also he gave me 20 dollar so I would ask Haechan and Mark if they were even legal when they would order something alcoholic,” he grinned, “I’ll share if you do it.” “How am I supposed to know who to ask?” You asked because even though you were shy, 20 dollars were 20 dollars. “That’s the spirit,” Lucas grinned and threw an arm around your shoulders to turn you in the direction of the table where the men had sat down, not even trying to be subtle about it. “You see the one with the purple hair sitting next to the tall one with half his chest exposed? The purple haired one is Haechan and the tall one is Johnny. Mark is the one on the stool to the left, just ask Haechan for his age first, Mark will be the one to laugh the loudest,” he quickly explained. “You know them quite well,” you said, trying to fight the heat spreading across your cheeks because it didn’t happen any day that you were in such a close proximity to a handsome man like Lucas. “I went to school with Mark,” he shrugged, letting you go when Kun yelled that his order was ready.

Before walking up to their table you took another deep breath to calm your furiously beating heart, repeating in your head how no one had been mean to you yet and that all your coworkers kept on telling you how nice they were supposed to be. “Hi everyone,” you greeted them when you arrived at the table, “Have you already decided what you want to order?” Seeing the chaos that the group was already in, half of them probably didn’t even notice that you had arrived at the table. “Guys!” The pink haired man wearing the harness type thing scolded the others that were bickering in the back of the little booth on the couch. “I’m sorry, they usually behave better,” he smiled and his big eyes combined with his pink hair made him look like he came straight out of an animation. “I’m Taeyong by the way,” the pink haired man supplied, flashing you a genuine smile, “You’re new here, right? I haven’t seen you around before.” “Today is my first day,” you nodded, cheeks heating up under the gaze of the handsome man, nervously playing with your little notepad. “Let’s order, guys!” Taeyong said, the others slowly turning their attention towards you. How all of them were this handsome was beyond your imagination. Shyly you introduced yourself as their waiter for the night for the second time and asked for their orders. One after the other they either ordered plain beer or some really extraordinary cocktails that you had never heard of before. When the purple haired boy, Haechan, ordered his cocktail, you took a deep breath before putting on your best poker face. “Could I see your ID to check your age first?”

As soon as the words had left your lips, the whole table fell dead silent and the boy’s mouth dropped open in surprise. But before you could lose your courage to mutter an apology, the boy that had greeted Lucas loudly before, burst out in laughter, that the others minus Haechan quickly joined and even you couldn’t hold back the grin that spread over your face. “Now that I think about it, could I see yours as well?” You followed up and asked the dark haired boy with the infectious laugh, whose eyes immediately turned into saucers, his mouth wide open while the others couldn’t hold their laughs anymore, the purple haired boy joining in now. “I’m sorry,” you giggled, turning to the last man to order when they all had calmed down, using the napkins on the table to exaggeratedly wipe their tears. “What can I get you?” When the man with the dark hair that was elegantly swept back from his face turned towards you, you could swear that time stilled for a moment. His dark eyes that were accentuated with a bit of eyeshadow fixed yours and you were captivated, unable to look away. When your eyes dipped lower for a second you could see the black ink of a tattoo on the pale skin of his neck. He seemed familiar but you couldn’t quite tell why. Maybe you had seen him around on campus. But even then you should have been able to tell because that tattoo really wasn’t subtle at all. Briefly you were wondering if he could ever work a normal job with something like that. “I think I’ll just start with a beer as well,” he spoke softly, his voice a deep rumble, tearing you from your thoughts. After you had definitely stared at him for way too long than it would have been acceptable, you tore your gaze away from him, quickly scribbling down his order as well, repeating what you had written down for the others to confirm.

“Great, then I’ll be back in a bit with your drinks,” you smiled, after one of them had insisted that they should get a round of shots as well. “Can’t wait,” the tall one with the eagle tattoo on his chest said with a smirk on his lips, adding a cheesy wink that made you way more flustered than you would have liked. You quickly turned to hide your heated face, speed walking back over to the bar to put their order down. “Did you do it?” Lucas eagerly asked, bouncing up and down in excitement where he was helping to dry some glasses behind the counter. “Where’s my money?” You grinned, holding out your palm towards him. “Waaa, you really did it,” he grinned while bouncing up and down excitedly and you could barely hold in the urge to coo at him. He really did resemble an oversized puppy. You barely knew him for more than a couple of hours but he already had wiggled his way into your heart.

“Lucas, you didn’t tell us such a pretty girl would be serving us tonight,” a smooth male voice suddenly interrupted. When you turned around, the tall man from the 127 gang (Were they a gang? Did they do illegal stuff?) came walking up to the counter, leaning against the polished wood. “She’s new here, I didn’t know either,” Lucas pouted, already grabbing two shot glasses to put up on the bar top, putting the third one back down when you shook your head. You weren’t going to drink on your first day of work even though it seemed to be normal when you watched Lucas fill up the two glasses with a shady looking liquid from an unlabeled bottle he had grabbed from below the counter. Clinking their glasses together both men drowned their shots and while the tall biker didn’t even flinch, Lucas broke out into a whole body shiver, squeezing his eyes shut. “This stuff is really fucking disgusting,” he grimaced before refilling one of the shot glasses again, shoving it in front of the other man again, “I don’t know how Ten manages to make these concoctions.” Grinning, the man in question suddenly appeared and snatched the shot glass from below the other‘s fingers, drowning it himself. The blonde only grimaced a little. “I gotta say, I’ve made better stuff but also definitely worse. Lucas, we need a new keg of beer, can you please get one from the back, you’re so much stronger than I am,” Ten pouted, batting his lashes at Lucas and rubbing one of his hands over the other’s muscled arms. “Be nice to her,” Lucas told the man with the big tattoo on his chest and quickly disappeared to the back.

“I’m Johnny by the way,” he introduced himself, running a hand through his dark red hair. “So you’re the one who asked Lucas to embarrass your friends,” you remembered, your eyes getting caught on the intricate feathers of the eagle that spread its wings over Johnny’s broad chest. He smirked when your eyes came back up to meet his. “That would be me. You like the tattoo?” “It looks nice,” you mumbled, embarrassed at being caught staring, “It’s not something you see every day.” “I have some other ones that are pretty interesting as well,” he winked. “Su-Sure,” you stuttered, feeling your face heat up for what must have been the millionth time this night. “You’re cute,” Johnny laughed, the sound bright and inviting, his eyes turning into little crescents. “What did you come over for? Did I miss something on the order?” You tried to move the conversation in a direction you were a little (a lot) more comfortable with. “I just thought I could put my muscles to use and help you carry our drinks, we ordered quite a lot. Also I still owe you money for pulling that prank on Mark and Haechan. Even though their faces were priceless.” “How old are they anyways?” You asked him because you didn’t actually ended up looking at their IDs and Haechan especially did seem quite young. Digging out his worn out wallet, Johnny fished out a twenty dollar bill and teasingly held it up between two fingers. “They’re both of age, don’t worry, they just have baby faces.”

Snatching the bill from his hands, you quickly stuffed it in your pocket. “Thank you,” you grinned, relieved that it really had just been a prank between friends. “How old are you then?” You heard yourself asking after you had glanced at the tray that Ten had been filling up, but a couple of glasses were still missing. The weird cocktails seemed to take quite some time to make (Why there was celery swimming in what looked like tomato juice was a mystery to you). “Let’s pretend I’m in my early twenties,” Johnny grinned, his long fingers playing with the cherries that were stuck to the rim of one of the cocktail glasses. “Pretend?” You were confused. He couldn’t be much older than you were. “It’s improper for old men like me to flirt with such pretty young girls after all,” he winked and stuck out his tongue. “You… You can’t be much older than me though,” you argued, trying to fight your shyness back down. But your furiously beating heart was betraying you. Luckily he couldn’t notice that from his place where he was still leaning against the counter, the long line of his body perfectly shown off; his legs seemed almost endlessly long in the heavy leather pants. Chuckling, he raked his eyes across your body in a similar way you must have seconds ago but you felt like you were burning up wherever he was looking. Within the blink of an eye he was in your personal space, crowding you against the bar. “I’m 25,” he breathed, “How long do you have to work today, honey?”

Before you could even think of an answer, Johnny was shoved backwards by another man dressed completely in black. You recognized him as one of the men from Johnny’s gang, the one with the neck tattoo that had seemed weirdly familiar to you. “Leave her alone, Johnny,” he drawled, his voice barely more than a growl, “There’s someone waiting for you outside.” After a moment of heavy eye contact between the two males, Johnny scoffed and threw you another smile. “See you later, darling,” he chirped before turning towards the exit. “I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable, he doesn’t know when to stop sometimes,” the handsome man spoke, his voice still deep but way less threatening. “It’s… It’s fine you wouldn’t have needed to step in like that,” you reassured him, “But thank you.” “Yeah, I don’t know, something just didn’t sit right with me when he crowded you like that. Especially when you’re new to this type of environment, it’s pretty different from your usual job.” “My usual job?” You asked, clearly confused, “Do we know each other?” “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you had recognized me,” the man’s eyes widened in surprise and he averted his gaze as if he was embarrassed. “I’m Jaehyun. You know, the dude who keeps killing his plants.” Now it was your turn to be surprised. “No way. You look so different.” “It’s the clothes, right?” Jaehyun was rubbing the intricate lines of ink on his neck, looking up from between his dark lashes, smiling shyly and now that his dimples were almost showing, you did finally recognize him.

He was somewhat of a regular customer at the flower shop you worked in during the week to help out the old lady who owned the shop, always coming in to buy new plants when he had managed to kill yet another one. Now in the heavy leather jacket with more buckles and straps than you could count, he looked so different than when he came to the shop, his dark hair fluffy so his bangs almost covered his eyes and wearing soft sweaters and jeans. You also somehow had never noticed the big tattoo that stretched around his neck.

You could remember the first time he came into the shop very vividly. It was just after your break that you had spent lazing around in the backyard of the shop in front of the little greenhouse, letting the sun shine onto your face, just basking in the moment for a bit, letting all your worries about money or upcoming exams melt away. The job at the little flower job didn’t pay very well because people these days bought less and less flowers and the old lady couldn’t afford to pay more but you couldn’t just leave her alone in the shop. You really enjoyed her presence and learning about the language of flowers and how to bind pretty bouquets. When the distant chirping of the old cuckoo clock in the shop announced the end of your break, you got up from your place and put your apron back on, so you wouldn’t accidentally dirty your clothes. You came back into the shop just in time to see the big load of new plants that was being delivered. Two boys were unloading a colorful truck while continuously bickering in what seemed to be Chinese about where to put the plants in the shop and on the sidewalk outside so people could still walk past. “Urgh, this sucks why did we let us get talked into helping out?” The one with green hair sighed after they had put the last plant down, handing the old lady the papers she had to sign that the shipment had arrived at her place. She chuckled while handing the papers back. “I’ve made some iced tea, have a little break, boys,” she smiled her kind, wrinkled smile at them, taking them to the little kitchen area in the back to pour each one of them a glass even though the smaller of them had declined her offer at least ten times while his green haired friend gladly took her invitation.

Smiling you reassured the old lady that you would rearrange the flowers and plants so you could fit them all into the shop and the small greenhouse in the back. Maybe her grandson would come in later to help you move the heavier plants. He always came to the shop to laze around without having his parents scold him and his grandmother could never say no to his charming smile that made any girl his age swoon. He had recently dyed his hair a soft pinkish shade and had been hanging around the shop a lot more because his parents weren’t quite fond of his style choices. You gently stroked the leaves of the little pink rose bushes (that had kind of reminded you of the boy in the first place) that seemed rather thirsty to you, making a mental note to water them lots after you had arranged them.

While rearranging the cut roses so you could fit the new bushes in between them, the little bell on the door rang, announcing the arrival of a customer. “I’ll be right over,” you said, detangling yourself from the bush you had tried to fit in the display window. “No need to hurry,” the customer answered with a deep voice. It wasn’t often that men visited your store. And most times they just wanted a quick, expensive looking bouquet to either impress a girl or to apologize to their wife. Putting on your best customer friendly smile, you walked over to where the man was eyeing some cherry tree bonsais, his broad back turned towards you. “How can I help you?” When the man turned around, he immediately politely smiled at you, making your heart beat pick up just a little. He was definitely attractive, you couldn’t deny that. His dark hair was unstyled and hung into his eyes a bit, covering his strong eyebrows that every girl would be envious over. He seemed young, about your age. The pale blue hoodie and the fluffy hair made him seem very soft and gentle despite his strong jawline and prominent cheekbones. “Well I’ve moved into a new space and it looks a little empty, so I thought some plants might be the way to fix that,” he explained, fiddling with the hem of his slightly oversized hoodie. “That’s a great idea,” you beamed, trying to seem reassuring since he seemed rather nervous, “Do you have anything special in mind?” “No, I really don’t but those roses you just put in the display window look very pretty, it’s what made me come in,” he said, motioning to where you had been fighting with the roses earlier. “Roses need a lot of attention though,” you warned him, walking over to where you had tucked the little bushes into a corner. “I have a lot of time and like a good challenge,” he answered, a grin tugging at his lips, a set of dimples just barely showing, “You’re bleeding by the way.” He added, gently touching your hand. Startled, you jerked away, heat licking at your cheeks. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, “But you should bandage that or it might get infected if something gets into the wound.” “Don’t worry, it’s not even that deep,” you concluded after examining the small cut on the back of your hand where you had lost the battle with one of the thorns. You quickly shot the man another smile that you hoped was reassuring.

“So do any of those roses look good to you?” “The pale orange ones look nice.” You couldn’t hold back a small giggle. “What’s so funny?” He asked, his beautiful brows drawn together in confusion. “The color is called peach,” you still giggled, grabbing the pot to show him the petals in the sunlight. “Well it is orange though,” he shrugged. “Men and colors,” you sighed dramatically but couldn’t help the smile spreading on your lips, “You like them and want to try caring for them?” “Yeah, let’s try it. Anything I should look out for?” While walking up to the cash register and ringing him up, you briefly explained how to take care of the roses the best.

“I hope they brighten up your room a bit,” you smiled when he had paid. “The visit sure brightened up my day,” he replied smiling widely, the set of cute dimples reappearing on his cheeks. Before you could overcome your sudden shyness to reply anything, he had already wished you a good day and disappeared from the shop.

After his visit, the man had crept back into your mind a couple of times. Every time you watered the little twin of the rose bush he had bought, it somehow reminded you of his sweet dimpled smile and his deep, soothing voice. You always scolded yourself when you noticed how you were spacing out, in fact watering the floor instead of the little rose bushes how you were supposed to. (You had been made fun of by a certain pink haired boy one too many times lately.) Your boss had just smiled knowingly and pressed a little bouquet with beautiful yellow Chrysanthemums in the middle, when you had closed up the shop, making your face heat up and furiously deny everything. But like always, the old lady knew you probably better than you knew yourself.

The second time the handsome stranger had visited the shop, he had been wearing a white turtle neck and a simple denim jacket, his hair pushed back with a dark blue hat. “Hello again,” he greeted you, gently smiling when he walked up to the counter where you were currently binding a bouquet with a couple of big purple hyacinths, “I’ll have a little look around. No need to hurry that.” Even though you tried to concentrate on arranging the flowers in the bouquet and picking smaller flowers that would look good with the big center piece, you kept glancing over to the man who was sniffing different flowers, quietly sneezing when he inhaled too deeply.

“Those are really pretty,” he said after he had not so subtly watched you work for a while from his place between the brightly colored geraniums while walking up to the counter. “The man who commissioned them paid a lot of money for them to look pretty,” you smiled, gently tucking smaller white flowers all around the big purple ones in the middle. “Does it mean anything? I’ve never seen this kind of flower,” he asked, seeming genuinely interested. “You’re interested in the language of flowers?” You asked, securely tying the bouquet together, placing them in a vase for the time being. “What languages would flowers speak?” The man asked, sounding genuinely confused. For a moment you could just stare at him, his dark brown eyes widened and his mouth slightly ajar, before you burst out in a fit of giggles. “Hey! What’s so funny?” He asked, trying to sound offended but he couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his lips. “They don’t speak any language, silly. The different types of flowers mean different things. I don’t know all of it but the owner of the shop has been teaching me some of it,” you explained to him. “Ooh, that makes a lot more sense,” he nodded, “What do those mean then?” “They’re hyacinths. The man told me he needed to apologize to his girlfriend. The purple ones stand for sorrow. I doubt she will notice though.” “Probably not,” he chuckled. “What did the rose mean I bought last time? The peach one?” “I’m not quite sure, I’ll ask my boss when she’s back. What brings you back here?” “Well,” he scratched the back of his head and averted his eyes, “I need a new plant, the rose was kind of a lot more work than I thought it was.”

“Oh no.” You felt genuinely sad. You kind of had expected it not to go well but this was honestly a lot faster than you could have imagined. “I should have listened to you when you told me that they were a lot, I’m sorry,” he apologized, “But I really want to try to keep a plant alive. She looked really good for the time she was alive.” “She?” “Well I gave her a name.” You giggled again. “That’s really cute.” “Not as cute as you though.” It was suddenly so silent in the shop, the only noise the soft buzzing sound coming from the air-conditioning. You stared into the man’s eyes, expecting a his face to heat up in a similar fashion yours was, to see a blush creep up his face or his ears, but his face stayed perfectly pale, not a single blotch of color visible. But he had to be embarrassed as well if the way he was chewing on his lips was any sign. “I’m sorry, that just slipped,” he mumbled. “I… Shouldn’t you at least tell me your name before you start complimenting me like that?” You stuttered when you found your voice again. “Jaehyun,” he supplied, still awkwardly shuffling around, “It’s Jaehyun.” “Alright Jaehyun, let’s find you a new plant that’s not as easy to kill.

From that day onward Jaehyun came to the shop somewhat regularly, either announcing the death of yet another plant or telling you how they were on the brink of death and he didn’t know how it happened or what to do to save them. You were really close to either tell him to stick to bouquets or cacti but when you were being honest, you enjoyed his little visits. He’d stay longer and longer every time, telling you little stories about how he suspected that his roommates were secretly killing all the plants. In turn you told him about your boring life between your classes and your job. And sometimes you even taught him about the language of flowers while he was watching you put together a bouquet for yet another desperate boyfriend.

One visit in particular had stuck with you for some reason. Your whole day had just been bad: One of your professors had caught you slacking off in class and called you out in front of everyone, then at lunch a guy had run into you, making you drop half your food on the floor and then it had started to rain on your way to work. And if that wasn’t enough, the old lady hadn’t been feeling well because of the sudden change in weather and you had sent her off into her apartment that was above the shop, so she could rest. So now you were just alone in the shop, watching the people outside hurry past the shop with their umbrellas. When it was raining even less people were coming into the shop because you couldn’t put any plants outside that often lured people in. Sighing, you continued with the inventory that you had started out of boredom. Of course you also hadn’t brought any useful books, so you could have studied a little.

You must have been deep in thought, moping about how much this day sucked, that you didn’t hear the little bell on the door ringing. So when someone touched your arm to get your attention, you of course were startled and let out a small scream before you lost your balance on the stepladder that you had used to count the spare pots on a higher shelf. And if that wasn’t enough, you also pushed one of said pots down as well. But before you could even brace yourself for the fall, a strong arm had wrapped around you, saving you from crashing down onto the floor and possibly cracking your head open. When you opened your eyes, that you had screwed shut, you saw straight into Jaehyun’s deep brown eyes that were full of concern. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he spoke softly and you could feel how his voice rumbled in his chest from how close he was holding you to his body. “It’s alright, it’s my fault anyways. I wasn’t paying attention,” you sighed, slowly realizing in what kind of situation you and Jaehyun were in right now. His face was so close to yours that you could almost count every single one of his long, dark eyelashes. You could even see the faintest little blush spreading over his cheeks and your own face immediately felt hot as well.

Jaehyun just smiled and released you from his grip, gently setting the pot he somehow had managed to catch with his other hand back onto the shelf. He really must have incredible reflexes and obviously the most charming smile you had ever seen. “Don’t blame yourself, you don’t look too good today,” he spoke softly. “Wow thanks,” you sarcastically said, sighing theatrically while running your hands through your hair in an attempt to smooth it out, but probably messing it up further than it already was. “Hard day?” You snorted. Hard was an understatement. It sucked. But a little voice in the back of your head whispered that now that Jaehyun had come to visit you in the shop, it would get better. “You look like you could use a hug,” he smiled and opened his arms invitingly.

Before you could even think twice about it, you wound your arms around his middle and squeezed him tightly, burying your face in the soft fabric of his cardigan that he wore over one of his many turtlenecks. Chuckling, he grabbed the fabric and stretched it around you, so you were basically wrapped up in it against his chest, before wrapping you up in his strong arms. You were drowning in his by now familiar scent and the way his chest steadily rose and fell with his breath made all stress from your body slowly dissolve. “If you keep holding me like this I will cry,” you mumbled, trying to untangle yourself from him. “I don’t mind, you know? Sometimes you just have to cry to let all the stress out,” he assured you, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Don’t say that, I will ugly cry in your shirt,” you hiccupped, “I barely know you.” “Oh I think you know me a lot better than a lot of people,” he smiled, “It’s an old shirt anyways.” “Liar, I’ve never seen you wear this before.” “You’re keeping track?” He chuckled. “That’s not what I meant by that,” you mumbled, feeling shy suddenly because how could you not keep track when he just effortlessly looked infuriatingly good every time he walked into the shop.

“You feeling better now?” Jaehyun gently asked after you two had fallen silent, just basking in each other’s presence. He gently tilted your head back from where you had buried it in his neck, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah,” you breathed, captivated by him. You had never noticed the tiny mole he had on one of his cheeks but you found it really endearing. “Good,” he smiled, “I brought you coffee from the shop next door.” He motioned to the two cups he had placed on the counter next to the cash register. “You have a heart of gold Jaehyun,” you confessed, a smile slowly spreading on your lips and your heartbeat picking up. You kept the thought that he probably would also make the perfect boyfriend, to yourself. Not that it would matter, you were sure he didn’t see you like that. He just played it off, laughing awkwardly like he always did when he was embarrassed. (Coming to think of it, you really seemed to know him better than you had initially thought.) “Let’s drink it before it gets cold and you can tell me more about your day,” he offered and slowly loosened his arms around you. “Can you tell me about yours instead?” You asked with a small voice. “I’d rather forget all of this stupid day before you walked in here.” “Of course, darling,” he breathed. Your heart skipped a beat before doubling its pace when the pet name rolled of his tongue just like that. Maybe there was just the slightest little chance, he might consider you more than just the friend that worked in the flower shop that he had to visit to get advice on how to not kill his plants. Smiling you loosened your grip on him as well and you two sat down on the counter, dangling your legs and sipping the slightly cold coffee while you listened to Jaehyun ramble about the mess that were his flatmates. Until this day you hadn’t figured out how many people he actually lived with but you couldn’t help but smile at the little stories he told you. And even when he stopped talking, you just enjoyed the silence while watching the people outside. And maybe it was just your imagination but the umbrellas outside seemed just a little brighter with your head resting on Jaehyun’s broad shoulder.

“I’ve never noticed your whole tattoo thing that’s going on,” you said, motioning around your own neck when you came back from your fond memories of Jaehyun. “Yeah, I try to not let it show as much usually,” he replied, almost nervously playing with the collar of his leather jacket. “Did it hurt a lot when you got it?” “Yeah, the skin is kind of tender around your neck,” he answered, his gaze not meeting your eyes but fixating a point right behind you. “You get that question a lot don’t you?” you gently asked, fingers itching to reach out to touch him. “Yeah, it’s all people talk about when they see it,” he shrugged, “I’m used to it by now.” “Oh, I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. “It’s fine,” Jaehyun reassured you, gently grazing his fingers over your exposed forearm, making goose bumps break out over your skin. “Yes, it did hurt. No I don’t regret it. Yes I probably can’t work a normal job if I’m not wearing a turtleneck. No, I didn’t get it in prison. It was done in a perfectly sanitary tattoo shop by a professional artist. No, I’m not a criminal”, he quickly addressed every typical question he apparently got about the tattoo in a single breath, a smile spreading on his lips, making his dimples appear and your heart beat faster.

“Glad to know I haven’t been talking to a criminal over the past few weeks even though you did kill an unholy amount of plants,” you giggled, checking again if the order was ready only to find Ten engrossed in a conversation with a group of young men that were sitting at the bar, his work forgotten. “Well I guess I am guilty of that,” Jaehyun pouted and it was weirdly endearing seeing him act playful like that with his dark and intimidating clothing. “So you’re not a criminal but a biker?” “Is that what you think our group is?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. “That’s what everyone told me at least. And you do look the part.” “A couple of us do have bikes, but I don’t think that justifies the title. We’re just a,” he bit his tongue for a bit, “We’re just friends. Friends who like to dress in a lot of leather and black clothing.”

It seemed to be a somewhat touchy subject so you decided to not push any further. “You don’t need to explain it to me,” you smiled reassuringly, quickly squeezing his cold hand. “Jaehyun, stop flirting with my best waitress,” Kun teased, adding the little shot glasses to the second tray that completed the order. “I wasn’t flirting, I-“ but Jaehyun didn’t complete his apology when Kun shot him a knowing look and your face heated up on his behalf because Jaehyun didn’t blush like ever. “Stop making excuses and help her carry all this back to the table,” the barman grinned, returning to his work by pulling Ten back by the hairs on his neck from where he was still talking to the handsome customers sitting at the bar. “I would appreciate some help, that’s what Johnny came over for as well,” you tried to push past the awkwardness. “Like hell he was,” Jaehyun grumbled, grabbing the one of the trays maybe a tad too forceful than he needed to, the drinks almost spilling over. “Don’t be angry with him, he was being nice,” you consoled him, gently petting his leather clad arm (wasn’t he warm in that thick jacket?). “I saw just how nice he was being,” he sighed, rolling his shoulders, “He’s such a goddamn flirt.” “Nothing happened Jaehyun,” you tried one last time, looking into his dark eyes, getting lost in the seemingly bottomless obsidian.

Only the thud of the heavy entrance door made you snap out of it and you quickly turned to grab the second tray. You hadn’t even noticed how you had gravitated towards Jaehyun, it was like his eyes had hypnotized you. “Need another pair of helping hands?” A familiar voice asked and Johnny strode over towards you two again, now with an energetic bounce in his step, his red lips curved into a smile. “We’ve got it,” Jaehyun answered, scrunching his nose as if he had smelled something bad before taking a deep breath. “Don’t wait too long, Jaehyun,” the taller said, his tone suddenly stern and his brows furrowed. “I can handle it, Johnny,” Jaehyun gritted out, shoving past the taller man to make his way over to the table where their friends were still waiting for their drinks. Sighing, you followed him back to the table. It was weird how different he was behaving with his friends around. You had never expected to meet him in any place outside of your job at the flower shop and much less in a place like this. The soft man who liked to wear denim jackets seemed to be buried beneath the heavy leather jacket.

“Here’s your drinks,” you smiled when you put the tray down to distribute the drinks. “You’re not drinking with us?” A blonde man with a scratch in his eyebrow asked when everyone had picked up their shot glasses. “It’s my first day, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you politely declined his offer. “I’m sure Ten and Kun won’t mind,” he grinned, lifting up his own glass to hand it over to you. “She said no, didn’t you hear, Yuta?” Jaehyun growled and shot his friend a dark look. Unfazed by his behavior, the blonde - Yuta - shrugged his shoulders before drowning his shot himself, not grimacing in the slightest even though the liquid had a questionable amount of alcohol in it, judging by the numbers that had been printed on the label. “But I’m sure we can treat you to something else,” he spoke, before shifting in his seat so his poorly buttoned sleeveless shirt fell open even further, revealing smooth skin that stretched over lean muscles and a promise of something metal hidden beneath. “I-“, you stuttered. What were you supposed to reply to something like that? “You’re shameless,” one of his dark haired friends chuckled, a silver chain glistening in the light when he shook his head. “It’s called confidence,” Yuta defeated himself. “Still shameless,” another one agreed, a grin on his face. “He hasn’t had a good lay in a while, don’t mind him,” Taeyong cut in, shooting you a reassuring smile. “Certainly not because I didn’t had any offers, I’m just picky,” Yuta tried to defend himself, looking scandalized. You just giggled when the other’s started picking on him. You noticed that Jaehyun didn’t join in but his posture was more relaxed than it had been before. You really wanted to thank him for defending your choice to not drink but now didn’t seem appropriate. Silently you collected the now empty shot glasses and picked the trays back up. “I’ll be back to check in with you later then,” you smiled before walking back to the counter after checking in with a couple of other tables.

The rest of the night went down in a blur safe for the one occasion where the slender Ten indeed threw out one of the customers that couldn’t hold his liquor anymore and had fallen when he had tried to walk over to the bar to order more because Lucas had already refused to bring him any more drinks. The times when you had checked in on the 127 table, Yuta had still flirted with you only to be either shot down by Jaehyun or Taeyong. You had also noticed that over the course of the night one or two of them would always leave the bar for a couple of minutes before coming back inside with a new energy and a faint blush on their cheeks. You didn’t know what they did out there but you really hoped they didn’t do drugs or anything like that. They didn’t seem as intoxicated as the other customers no matter how much they ordered. If anything Mark was getting giggly after he had come back inside but that was pretty much everything. They all must have incredible tolerance for alcohol.

When the night died down and more and more customers were leaving, Kun waved you over to tell you that you had been a great help and he would be more than happy to see you again tomorrow for your next shift. You had beamed at him and promised to do your best. “I’m sure you will. Thank you for today, I think Lucas and I can handle the remaining customers,” he told you. “What’s with Ten?” You asked. You hadn’t seen him in a while. Kun just sighed and motioned to the 127 table where Ten comfortably sat on Johnny’s lap, the taller carding through the blonde’s hair that he had freed from the little ponytail. “Are they a thing?” You were confused. Johnny hadn’t been subtle about his flirting earlier. “No one really knows,” Kun groaned, suddenly seeming very irritated, “It’s been happening more lately but last week he went home with Taeyong as far as I remember.” “Oh…” “Don’t think about it too much. I want to say that he knows what he’s doing but that would mean that he’s actually using his brain.” Somehow you thought that he sounded sad. “Just tell Ten that you like him, Kun,” Lucas groaned, running a hand through his by now messy platinum hair. “I don’t like him,” the elder gritted out, violently cleaning glasses and slamming them onto a rack to dry. “Sure and I’ve never thought about making out with any of your roommates,” Lucas teased him. “You have what?” “Never mind I said that,” Lucas mumbled, his ears turning red, before he made a beeline to one of his tables.

You chuckled quietly. “I think he’s fond of you as well,” you softly spoke after Kun had thrown another longing look at Ten who was busy admiring the eagle tattoo on Johnny’s chest. “You don’t need to console me, but I appreciate it,” he smiled but it didn’t quiet reach his eyes, “I came to accept him how he is.” “You should at least try to shoot you shout though, don’t you think?” You tried again, stepping closer to the barman to help him clean the last glasses. He sighed deeply. “I’ve known Ten for too long now, I know he won’t suddenly become monogamous just because I tell him that I might not dislike him as much as I sometimes say.” “You can never know for sure, people do crazy stuff because of love,” a deep voice joined the conversation and Jaehyun sat down on the barstool in front of Kun and you, throwing you a quick smile. “He’s right,” you smiled, briefly squeezing Kun’s hand. “If I say that I’ll think about it, will you leave it alone for now?” You eagerly nodded, looking up at Jaehyun to see if he was doing the same. Instead a smirk played on his lips. “If you give me my drinks for free, I’ll even tell Johnny to not take Ten home tonight,” he grinned, holding up his card between two fingers. “You’re paying for everyone?” Kun just gritted out, snatching the card from the other’s fingers. Jaehyun’s grin widened before he nodded. “Isn’t that going to be a lot of money?” You asked worriedly. You had never asked but assumed Jaehyun must be a student like you, so paying the whole bill for nine men (well eight if Kun was giving Jaehyun his own drinks for free) was a lot. “I lost at rock paper scissors,” he shrugged, “Are you done with your shift?”

“She is,” Kun cut in, smacking the credit card back onto the bartop, “Tell Johnny to send him home, I’m not feeding his cats again because they’re screaming for food.” “Sure. That’s the only reason,” Jaehyun joked, pocketing his card with a grin. Kun didn’t answer, instead leaving you two alone to wipe some empty tables. “Are you going home alone?” “It’s not far from here,” you reassured the dark haired man. “I’ll walk you. You shouldn’t go alone this late.” “Only if it’s not a bother for you…” “Keeping you safe is never a bother for me,” he smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and you barely suppressed a shiver from how cold his hands were against your heated face. “I’ll tell the other’s not to wait for me and will wait outside for you,” he softly spoke before turning to walk out the door where his friends apparently had already left.

You quickly gathered your things and sorted out your tips from the rest of the money, putting everything back into the place that Lucas had shown you before disappearing into the staff room to stuff the money into your designated tip jar, so Lucas and you could share your tips with Ten and Kun. While you were quickly trying to fix your hair in the small mirror a very grumpy looking Ten joined you, groaning loudly. You had to suppress your smile. Jaehyun really had convinced Johnny to not take Ten home. “Men are trash, honey,” the blonde suddenly spoke, “Don’t fall for any of them.” “Did you get dumped?” You tried to act like you didn’t exactly knew what must have happened. “Can’t get dumped if you aren’t dating,” Ten chirped, smoothing out a wrinkle in his silky blouse, “But something similar.” “I’m sorry.” “No need to be darling, I’ll just annoy Kun a little more, maybe he’ll actually pop a vein these days,” he giggled mischievously. “Be nice to him, he seems like an actual sweetheart,” you said while slipping on your jacket and picking up your bag. “He is, darling. But where’s the fun in that?” Ten held the door open for you and followed you back to the main room. “Be safe on your way home.” “Jaehyun is waiting outside for me,” you admitted, suddenly feeling shy under Ten’s intense gaze. “So that’s why Johnny wouldn’t take me with him,” he grinned. “No, no that’s not it. He just offered to walk me home,” you stuttered to explain yourself. It wasn’t like what Ten thought it was, right? Oh god. Not that Jaehyun was expecting anything now. He just had asked to walk you home though. Was it a code word for something you didn’t know? “I’m sure he only has the most noble motives,” the barkeeper snickered, “Go, don’t let prince charming wait for too long.” With that he waved you off, walking over to where Kun was wiping a table to drape his body over the other’s back, probably complaining about being dumped. But Kun didn’t seem to mind a whole lot, judging by the smile that tugged on the corners of his lips.

After you had barely escaped Xuxi’s suffocating goodbye hug, you stepped outside into the cold night, taking a deep breath. It was quiet for a Friday night but that might have just been the time. Worried you looked around when you couldn’t see Jaehyun’s broad figure anywhere. Did he ditch you? That didn’t seem like him. Curious you looked into the little ally beside the bar where the dumpsters were. At first you couldn’t make out anything in the dark but when your eyes had adjusted, you could make out a figure, no two, in the dark. One of them was wearing a familiar leather jacket with way too many buckles and straps to be convenient. The man was clinging to the second, unmoving figure and the whole scene made Goosebumps break out all over your body.

“J-Jaehyun?” you stuttered, your bag falling from your shoulder, landing on the concrete with a soft thud. As if he was electrocuted, the man with the dark clothes shoved the limp body he was holding onto just a second ago away from him, but no sound left the other man’s lips, nor did his facial expression change in any way. “I can explain this,” Jaehyun said, his lips a deep red and smeared with what seemed to be blood and eyes wide, tinted a bright crimson. You felt a shiver run down your spine, the scream that had been stuck in your throat threatening to spill now. But before it could rip free, a palm was pressed over your lips and your body collided with Jaehyun’s solid frame. “Please don’t scream,” he whispered in your ear which made all the hairs on your neck stand up. What was happening? Why was there blood on Jaehyun? Has his eyes changed color? How did he get across to you within the blink of an eye? What was with the other person? In a panic, your eyes scanned the alleyway and another muffled scream ripped from your throat when you saw that the man was still unmoving even though he was bleeding from a wound in his neck. “Please,” Jaehyun begged, his voice sounding strained, “Let me explain this, don’t hate me.” Being pressed so close to him, you couldn’t help but notice that his chest wasn’t moving in the slightest like it should if he was breathing. What was happening? Panic began to rise inside you and you felt like you were suffocating, your lungs not getting enough oxygen with Jaehyun’s palm pressed over your mouth. Panicking, you grabbed his wrist and let your nails dig into his skin, but the skin didn’t break. Desperate, you tried to get more air into your lungs, meeting his eyes in a silent plea. “Please don’t scream,” Jaehyun repeated firmly before he slowly freed your mouth, but kept holding you close.

You heaved a couple of heavy breaths, feeling the panic slowly disappear but your heart kept beating furiously, the adrenaline coursing through your veins making you dizzy. “Let me take care of this and I’ll explain everything, I promise,” Jaehyun spoke once your breathing had somewhat evened out. “I’ll release you now, don’t run away.” Your voice was still lost somewhere, so you just nodded. After confirming with a nod himself, he slowly uncurled from you and walked over to the other man who was still in a daze, staring straight ahead. “You will walk home now and not remember anything that happened from the moment you saw me approach you,” Jaehyun spoke to him, looking into his eyes intensely and if your own eyes weren’t playing a trick on you, Jaehyun’s eyes had turned a bright crimson color. He leaned into the other man again where his neck was still bleeding and when the man turned to leave and walk away, the area was clean. Instead Jaehyun’s lips were smeared with blood that he quickly wiped into his shirt. “What the fuck, Jaehyun?” You whispered, your voice sounding raw as if you hadn’t spoken in hours.

“I can explain this,” he repeated again, turning his palms towards you in surrender when he walked back over. “How can you explain this? You- That- That man was straight up hypnotized and behaved like an actual puppet. And that blood. This is crazy. I’m dreaming. That’s it right? Or someone must have slipped me something in the bar and I’m tripping right now. Because this looks an awful lot like you just sucked that guy’s blood like you’re a vampire and that’s crazy. Vampires aren’t real. And I’ve seen you walk around in the middle of the day. But then again, your hands are always cold and I couldn’t even scratch you with my nails and you have mad reflexes,” you started to spiral, the words just falling from your lips. “Hey, take a breath. A deep breath, here,” Jaehyun softly spoke, gently taking your hands and pressing the palms on his chest, taking a deep breath himself. Even though you tried to breathe with him to calm down, you couldn’t help but notice that his fingers weren’t as cold as they had been before and that you couldn’t feel his heartbeat despite the fact that your palm was sitting right over his heart, just separated by his thin black shirt from the skin. “You… You don’t have a heartbeat,” you whispered, your eyes searching his that were a perfectly normal deep brown shade now while you pressed your palms down on his chest harder. “I don’t,” he spoke carefully, scanning your features for any changes, “I haven’t had one for a while.” “You aren’t breathing right now.” “I don’t need to. I keep forgetting.” “You… You’re forgetting to breathe?” “I usually do when I’m around humans but sometimes I forget.” “You say that as if you’re not…” You couldn’t finish the sentence, it was too absurd. “As if I’m not human myself? I’m not. Not anymore.” “Then what are you?” “You’ve said it before, I’m a vampire,” he confessed.

“A vampire…” You repeated dumbfounded. It made sense, everything was adding up but this couldn’t be the explanation. Vampires were just made up. “And the others are too, they’re my coven. That’s why I didn’t want Johnny to talk to you.” “Would he have..?” Your eyes widened and one of your hands flew to your neck, covering where your pulse was fluttering beneath the skin. “I’m not going to hurt you, I could never,” Jaehyun whispered when he saw the fear in your eyes, gently cupping your face as if to prove his point. “I like you way too much to hurt you. And I won’t let anyone of the others even lay a finger on you.” Your eyes immediately flew to his lips that were still stained red when he leaned in even closer so you would be able to feel his breath mingling with yours if he was breathing. “I really want to kiss you right now, is that stupid?” The vampire whispered. “Don’t hurt me,” you whispered back, letting your eyes fall shut. “I could never,” he breathed before brushing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss that send sparks through your whole body. When Jaehyun felt you relax against him, your fingers uncurling from his shirt, he kissed you again, firmer this time, wrapping his arms tight around you as if he was afraid that you would disappear.

When you felt your head start to get light, you gently tapped his strong chest and he immediately retreated, looking at you with a worried expression. “One of us still needs to breathe,” you giggled breathless. “I’m sorry,” he smiled, carding his fingers through your hair, just watching you breathe for a moment, losing himself in your eyes.

“I have another secret to tell you,” Jaehyun broke the silence, his dimpled smile lighting up his face. “I don’t think you can shock me anymore,” you smiled back. “I didn’t actually kill any of the plants I bought. I just needed to have a reason to keep seeing you. Our house looks like a jungle.” You couldn’t stop giggling, leaning into his (not moving) chest that rumbled with his low chuckle. “You’re cute,” you smiled, snaking your arms around his waist below his jacket, somehow not even missing the warmth that bodies usually gave off. “Shut up,” he chuckled, wrapping you up in a tight hug. “You want to know something else?” You whispered into his chest after a while. The vampire just hummed, gently swaying you. “I looked up what the rose meant that you bought when you first came into the shop… You wanna know what it stands for?” Jaehyun hummed again. “It stands for immortality.” This time it was Jaehyun who was laughing, holding your body tighter to steady himself.

#jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #nct #nct 127 #jaehyun fic #nct scenarious #nct imagines #nct fluff

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skruttet · 3 years

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Couldn’t sleep cause of negative thoughts about my life so they somehow ended up turning into negative thoughts about the trial episode and oh my god I’m so mad HOW did it turn out so terribly. I know I’ve ranted a lot about it already so I’ll try not to repeat stuff I’ve said in the past but...

Even Sniff’s new hairdo baffles me. He’s complaining at the beginning about Moomintroll & Snufkin calling him a “little animal” so when he takes off the hat and we see the shadow, when I first saw it I thought he’d grown a moustache (since facial hair on men has typically been associated with maturity). But then he arrives at the trial sporting this Karen hair???? Which is so baffling cause you’d think the most fitting thing would be for him to now have a hairdo that resembles the curly white wigs lawyers (used to?) wear in court... but no... he has a younger-looking blonde bob... which somehow gives him confidence and maturity????? How does that make any sense? What were they thinking??? (And on top of the homophobia that was how the treated Thingumy & Bob’s story, you could argue that the comedy of Sniff wearing this wig - Little My literally laughs at him when she sees him - is the old “lol funny man dressed as woman” offensive joke... but maybe I’m just taking my anger too far now...)

Also, when the trial begins, initially no one steps forward to defend Thingumy and Bob. Eventually Moomintroll does, which he’s praised for and it’s supposed to be this “wow isn’t he so nice stepping up for the gays when no one else will uwu” but... he doesn’t do it for them. He does it so Mamma will be pleased with him. Idk that just never sat right with me. Especially since this is after the episode in which Moomintroll learnt to stop feeling jealous of Thingumy & Bob and was all “there’s enough cake for everyone”, you’d think maybe they’d continue to show that newfound friendliness between them by having him want to defend them for them buuut nope! He just wants Mamma to applaud him! Not a very nice trait for your main character to have imo.

And all the other problems I can think of I’ve already mentioned on here before so I’ll stop for now lol. It just turned out to be such a terrible terrible episode that’s offensive not only to the LGBT+ community, but to individual characters (Sniff, Hobgoblin, etc.) as well! Of course the concept art shows that there was definitely stuff they had to end up scrapping so I really do wonder just how much it changed during production and if it was ever decent...

#pls don’t add anything to this <3 #i really hope I do end up filming this ranking video cause I need to rant about this ep out loud for my own sanity at this point lmao #the trial #honestly I haven’t seen the ep in a while so I may have gotten some stuff wrong here adkflsjsj #I do need to rewatch the majority of the eps to finish my script..notes... thingy tho #would you say it’s very Aries of me to be distracted from my depression by getting passionately angry at something 😂#this doesn’t just make me angry tho it makes me sad. I cried over this. cause there’s so much potential they wasted

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agoodgoddamnshot · 4 years

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Constellations - Geralt/Jaskier [G - Injury]

Gif isn’t mine.

Originally posted to my AO3 account.

It’s never anything more than a scratch.

Well, no. It’s always more than a scratch to him, he supposes.

Geralt has a map of scars littering his skin that are reminders of old injuries. Most of them are faded pale lines against his skin; but the worst of them, thicker, jagged lines stretching over his stomach and heart, are from times where danced a bit too close to death.

But in the time where Jaskier has been with him, he has never gotten so much as, as Geralt puts it, “a scratch”. Even in the aftermath of griffin and bruxa fights, when Geralt comes back to their camp or to their shared room in an inn, he shrugs off Jaskier’s fidgeting hands. “I’ll live, bard,” he grunts, padding over to the other side of the room to do whatever it is that needs doing to stop the bleeding.

Jaskier will always care. When love started to kindle between them, breathing became that bit harder when Geralt wouldn’t return when he said he would. Even if the Witcher was late by a couple of minutes, Jaskier paced so often that the soles of his boots threatened to wear away.

But Geralt always came back: carrying a limp or holding his side, fingers smudged with dirt and blood. But he always came back.

This is different.

He returned from a hunt, stumbling into their rented inn room, eyes still blackened and dark tendrils spreading out over his pale skin, a red stain across one side of his chest. Jaskier barely had time to speak the Witcher’s name before he crumpled to the ground with a pained grunt.

The town is large enough to have several healers making their businesses in it – but only one of them actually comes to help. No one bothers with Witchers, no matter what good they do for those living on the land. It’s something Jaskier has come to know. The people glowering and sneering at Geralt as he walks through villages and towns won’t lift a finger to help him if he ever did ask for it. The innkeep was a kind woman, offering them a good room and better food if the Witcher dealt with a bruxa problem in the forest nearby, scaring away all of her produce suppliers. Geralt took the contract – because of course he did, they were being offered a room and food after a long journey of having neither.

Jaskier can only presume it was her who ran to every healer’s apothecary within the town. He barely had Geralt settled on the bed when the healer steps into the room; and a long breath rushes out of Jaskier. He thanks every god he can remember the name of as the woman sets her leather work-bag on the foot of the bed. She fishes out fistfuls of clean, white rags and sets them to the side; along with glass vials of ointments and potions.

Jaskier sets his hand on Geralt’s forehead. It’s damp with sweat, and his skin is almost scalding. Jaskier clicks his tongue. “You’ll be alright, my love,” he says gently, wincing at how Geralt’s face scrunches up at another bout of pain shaking through him. The black tendrils that sit where his veins would are starting to ebb away. And once his potion’s effects are gone, searing pain will replace it.

“Do you know how to clean a wound, bard?” the woman says, already handing him some cloth and a vial of reddish liquid.

Jaskier swallows and nods. He’s spent sun-turns following this damn man. Of course he knows what to do with wounds.

It’s just the initial panic that flashes through his body that he can’t quite get rid of yet. In fact, if he’s being totally honest, he thinks it’s getting worse.

He manages to get Geralt’s loose shirt off – a chunk of it having been torn by whatever it was that he was hunting. It’ll be mended in the morning, but as soon as Jaskier tosses the piece of clothing aside, he has to swallow at what he sees.

It’s deep. Jaskier sets his fingers around the wound. It’s a gash spreading across Geralt’s pectoral. It’s so deep he worries that Geralt’s own heart and lungs might burst out. Blood gushes out of it, staining his hands and pooling underneath his fingernails.

Jaskier fiddles with the vials and cloth. A harsh smell of something metallic covers the roof of his mouth. “This is going to hurt, Geralt,” he says softly, pressing the cloth over the worst of the cut. Geralt’s face pinches and his entire body goes stiff under Jaskier’s hands. “Shush now, I’m here,” Jaskier mumbles, lifting the cloth away. He switches it out for a clean one. Soaking that one with more of the red liquid, he sets about removing whatever dirt and grime he can see within the cut.

Geralt is as stiff as a stone slab beneath him. Jaskier’s eyes dart up to the Witcher’s face. His eyes are squeezed shut, hair splayed over the pillow. His skin is returning to its normal colour. Jaskier winces. “Do you have any poppy’s milk or valerian root?” he directs towards the end of the bed. “He’s in a lot of pain.”

A glass vial suddenly appears beside him. Jaskier looks at what’s inside; a white liquid speckled with black flecks. Poppy’s milk. Jaskier sets the cloths aside for a moment while he uncaps the vial. “Geralt,” he reaches out for the Witcher’s face. Red smears over Geralt’s cheek. “Geralt. Drink some of this. It’ll help.”

Yellow hooded eyes stare blearily back at him. Jaskier sets the vial against Geralt’s lip. He sighs in relief when a few drops of milk are swallowed. It’s strong stuff. He vaguely remembers the opium gardens of the academy being of particular interest to a few students. It never took long for them to fall under the plant’s effects. Geralt’s head grows heavy in his hands. He helps the Witcher lay back against the bed.

The woman moves around the room like a ghost. Jaskier is so focused on the job at hand, he doesn’t notice her grinding herbs with oils by the foot of the bed. He does sense her lean over his shoulder to inspect his work. There’s a soft hum of approval. “It’s deep, but the main problems are blood loss and infection. If we can manage those, he’ll be alright.”

He knows. He wants to snap. He knows.

Jaskier’s fingers curl into the pieces of the linen cloths. Gods above and below, he knows. She doesn’t have to keep saying these things.

Geralt is just as mortal as the rest of them. The gods can touch him. He can die. It takes a lot more of an effort on his assailant’s account, but he can. He’s danced too close to death before. Thankfully never in Jaskier’s presence. But it doesn’t stop the flood of fear that washes through his body every time Geralt stumbles back from a hunt, at the thought that one day, maybe soon or in a few years, Geralt might not come back to him.

Jaskier sucks in a breath. Stop it, he has to tell himself. There’s no point in worrying about any of that now. His fingers tremble as he cleans the worst of the wound, and he’s pretty sure that he hasn’t taken a steady breath since Geralt fell to the ground. But there’s no point in panicking.

He’s stitched Geralt back together before – in the areas along his back and shoulders where the Witcher can’t reach himself. He’s become quite good at it, if he were to say so. But with a wound this deep, bright red with streaks of what looks like muscle peering through, the healer gently nudges him aside. She’s already threaded a thin needle and seared the end with a candle’s flame.

Jaskier moves to the other side of the bed, gathering more cloth as he goes. Blood still trickles out of the wound. The only way to stop it is to knit the Witcher back together again.

He’s pale. The worst of the potions are fading from him. But his skin is still so pale that Jaskier sets his hand against it to feel for warmth. And Geralt is still scalding.

A tremor shakes his body. “It’s the potions, darling,” Jaskier says lowly, taking up a place by Geralt’s side. He soothes his hand along the unmarred side of the Witcher’s chest. “You’ve done it all before. It’s alright.”

When the last of the stitches are pulled tight together, Geralt has finally settled into a sleep. It probably won’t last long, and it’s more to do with the poppy’s milk than anything else. But Jaskier cards his fingers through the Witcher’s hair.

“The wound should heal nicely, but he lost a lot of blood,” the healer says, scrubbing her hands in a nearby basin. Red smudges reach her elbows. “He needs to rest.”

Jaskier hums. “He certainly won’t like that.” They were meant to be on their way to Kaer Morhen for the winter. The call of it had already whispered by Geralt’s ear. He’ll wake in the morning and, knowing him, will grunt out some excuse or other that they need to keep going. That the winds will turn and the roads will freeze over. But the summer has been kind to them this year. Even now, with crops being taken in and farm animals sheltered, the sun still warms the fields.

They have time. They can afford to stop for a moment; especially if it’s Jaskier heavily relying on Geralt to get him to Kaer Morhen in the first place. He can’t imagine he would be able to climb the damn mountain, let alone be let in the gates without the Witcher.

But Jaskier glances over his shoulder to the woman. It’s the first time he’s actually looked at her for more than a moment. “Thank you, my lady,” he breathes. He eyes the leather bag at her feet. “How much do I owe you for-?”

She shakes her head. “You owe me nothing, bard. A life saved is payment enough for me.”

He turns back to Geralt, lying motionless on the bed if not for the slow rise of his chest with every small breath he takes. He’s alive. A small sentence stated again and again in his head, repeating it to himself so that the more flighty and anxious side to him will just calm down and see reason.

She leaves him with more potions and ointments; valerian root for pain, arnica for the wound and bruising, tea tree for any infection that might come about. Jaskier places them on the small nightstand beside the bed, within an arm’s reach. As he locks their room door for the night and places another log of wood on the fire, he sighs. It’s the first proper breath he’s taken in what seems like hours.

Whatever had squeezed his chest begins to loosen.

He leaves most of his layers and his boots by the foot of the bed. Geralt’s tunic lies on the ground, still wet with blood. Jaskier stares at it for a moment. He’ll wash it in the morning, and see what he can do about that tear along the neckline.

Geralt’s bandages will need changing every hour. Though the Witcher’s heart is slower to beat than a normal man’s, blood still seeps through his dressings like water. Jaskier struggles to think what it would be like if Geralt were a normal man. He’d be dead, some part of his own mind tells him. No normal man would survive an attack like this.

He takes up by the Witcher’s side, sitting back against the headboard of the bed and pillowing Geralt’s head on his lap. Opium will keep him under for another few hours. The hearth’s fire threatens to burn out a few times, but Jaskier can’t bring himself to move away from the other man. He stares at the thing, wishing that the heat from his eyes alone would just make the fire come back to life.

Mumbled nonsense leaves Geralt’s lips. Jaskier can’t sleep, so he listens to it. Carding his fingers through Geralt’s hair, untangling and unknotting dried blood and dirt out of strands, he listens to whispers and mutterings of a girl in the woods, of a city falling, of the south coming north. He frowns. Setting the back of his hand against Geralt’s forehead, his frown only deepens when he finds no fever.

“What’s got you all bothered, hmm?” Jaskier mumbles, returning his fingers to Geralt’s hair. The Witcher doesn’t move; but his face does twitch every so often. A nightmare, maybe. Or a too-real dream. The poppy’s milk will keep him under for a few hours – but Jaskier has never seen its effects on a Witcher. Maybe he’ll doze off and wake to find Geralt stumbling around the room, muttering about a compromised arm and a ruined shirt. Maybe he’ll sleep long into the following afternoon. Jaskier has no idea.

The tavern quietens. Jaskier’s ears prick at the sound of patrons stumbling out on to the streets, calling their goodbyes back to the innkeep. He hears the door being bolted and the rest of the tenants going to their rooms. The floorboards outside squeak and groan with every footfall. Jaskier glances down at the Witcher. His face is lax and regular, slow breaths puff out from a slightly opened mouth. Warmth blooms in Jaskier’s chest. It isn’t often that he’s awake when Geralt isn’t. He falls asleep after Jaskier and wakes up before him. Seeing him like this now, he wants to commit it to memory.

At some point, he must fall asleep. His head falls forward and he jerks awake. Watery morning light streaks in through the window, the curtains still splayed open. A thrum of pain spreads across his lower back, but Jaskier eventually shuffles to lie down on the bed, facing Geralt and setting his hand against the Witcher’s chest. His fingers brush the bandages; a relieved sigh leaving him when he feels that it’s dry and not speckled with red.

The first sign he gets of Geralt surfacing is the slight increase in his heart rate. Jaskier feels it underneath his palm. It’s nothing that noticeable, but Jaskier recognises it from sleeping on Geralt’s chest for countless nights.

When yellow eyes open, blinking blearily, Jaskier has to swallow the lump clawing up his throat. “How are you?” he rasps. “Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”

Geralt grunts. “I’m fine.”

“Oh, you’re so far from being fine,” Jaskier mutters, reaching for the vial of valerian root. He’s become adept at reading his Witcher. In the coming winter, he might compile a dictionary specifically for the damn brute. Some things mean other things in Witcher-speak. And an I’m Fine has hundreds of meanings.

Despite glaring at the vial in Jaskier’s hand, Geralt takes a small sip of the potion. It won’t be as fast-acting as the poppy’s milk, but it’ll do. Geralt sinks back into the mattress and pillows. His eyelids can barely stay open.

Jaskier’s fingers curl against his chest. “You need to rest,” he says. “The healer said you lost a lot of blood and that you need to rest – so I don’t want to hear anything about you being fine, or that your Witcher-y-ness will have you right as rain by the afternoon. We don’t need to be in Kaer Morhen for another few weeks. So you’re going to lie there, and sleep until you feel better. Do you hear me?”

At that, Geralt’s eyes open again. He settles the bard with an arched eyebrow. “I hear you,” he rasps.

Jaskier blinks. Tears sting the back of his eyes. “Good,” he says stiffly, pillowing his head on Geralt’s uninjured shoulder. “So, off to sleep with you.”

The arm beneath him moves. It’s slow and heavy, but eventually Geralt slings his uninjured arm over Jaskier’s shoulders, keeping the bard close to him. “Whatever you say, little lark."

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mahou-furbies · 4 years

Note

I actually really liked those insight posts about Precure brooches, items, and fairies. I was wondering if you could do one about their weapons?

The Precure rankings take quite a lot of time to write so it’s nice that someone reads them!

But yes, the weapons. I haven’t made it a secret that I dislike the toy ad-like weapon designs so I don’t really care for many of these (common complaints: looks ugly and cheap, too much pink even for non-pink characters, rainbow buttons where they don’t belong, buttons or lights that don’t seem to serve any purpose, too much detail), but reading about me complaining about that for dozens of paragraphs probably wouldn’t be very fun. So I won’t put that everywhere and this will be more about judging the items in relation to each other than how they’d fare against all fantasy item designs I know.

Especially with the season I haven’t seen it was a bit bothersome to see if an item was weapon or not, so I just made some quick judgements. I’ll do the other items that aren’t in this or the other precure item posts later.

Futari wa Precure

Not a huge fan of these kind of items where the design philosophy seems to have been “it doesn’t have to resemble a weapon in any way, a pink plastic thing with buttons will do”. I’m not against all weapons looking incredibly impractical (like I love Mew Ichigo’s Strawberry Bell) but here these just look incredibly bland and cynical to me (I mean cynical in a different way than me).

I was going to be more generous with this since I thought it was a bow and bows are always elegant weapons and I’m always happy to have those regardless of how dumb the design looks, but reading the wiki I guess this is a baton instead. Boo! Still I like how it can be both a heart and also be bent open. The design makes me think of a baby toy though with all the round corners.

Futari wa Precure Splash Star

I like how the girls wear their items differently and the way the heart is framed is nice. But apart from that I don’t find these particularly aesthetically appealing, and they also look a bit too busy compared to the rest of the costume. Busy item designs are less of a problem if its a handheld item that’s clearly not a part of the base design, but when the characters are supposed to wear the item it often looks very out of place, as if it was just tacked on because the marketing team demanded it. Okay I’ll stop with this now

Not pictured: the versions with a star instead of heart, but they look otherwise the same and I like the heart better.

Yes! Precure 5

We now reach weapons I actually like! They’re pleasantly simple without unnecessary buttons everywhere, but with the tulip-like design with the cute little swirl there’s actually some point to it and it’s not just haphazardly placed buttons and lights and jewels. And as a fan of customisation I really like how everyone has their own take on the item. The pink girl apparently doesn’t feel the need to fit the theme though and hers is a lot less interesting to me, but at least it can sort of look like a flower (more like a butterfly though) so it’s not completely out of place.

Laser swors? That is a good idea. The flower is pretty too but I’d prefer it if it was a bit smaller, now it looks a bit unbalanced, and also why does everyone have to have a pink one again? Meanwhile the powerup version looks a lot more cheap, busy and gaudy.

Not a fan of this one, it feels like a portable lottery wheel, which would be a fun idea if Milky Rose had to work around with an item that gives her random powers, but I’m guessing that’s not the case. Another option would be that she’d use this to cut pizza. The blue roses and purple handle would make for a pleasant colour scheme, but then there’s the rainbow mini roses which break that, I think this would look more appealing if the roses were detachable and she’d attach the one she wants to use, but I guess the spinning wheel is supposed to be the Thing here.

Fresh Precure!

Pretty standard magical girl wands, white with obligatory pink for everyone and rainbow lights. At least everyone gets a crystal thingy at the tip in their own colour and card suit and it’s nice that they use their items differently (though Berry this is not a sword no matter how you try to slice it) but otherwise I’m not really interested.

Nice colours and the wing is cute, and I actually like the bizarre idea here. Like you could add power to the harp with the heart while playing it, or attach different attacks or whatever. But this exemplifies my main issue with the Precure items: okay, you can’t sell an actual harp with actual strings to kids so you sell this instead, ok. But why does the item in the show have to be a 1:1 replica? Disney can sell Elsa’s castle legos or inaccurate cheap-looking dolls but the counterparts in the movies look perfectly serviceable, so why can’t Passion have actual strings in her harp instead of these huge led lights?

Heartcatch Precure!

I like the metallic or glassy sheen at least in this shot and the shape of the handle. What I don’t like is the middle heavy design, I’d rather have the rainbow thing in the middle (which I’d prefer not be rainbow) either be smaller and moved to the tip, or the end part being longer so it’d look a bit like a sword.

This one is rather basic, like it’s just a circle with hearts around it. But at least it doesn’t do anything stupid and the colour palette checks out.

Suite Precure

I like the idea of being able to split the item in two but especially Rhythm’s looks a bit silly when it’s not in two parts, like now it’s not a baton or staff or really anything I could describe. But somehow I still like Melody and Rhythm’s items, at least they have consistent colour schemes and despite initially looking very different actually use the same base so that’s nice customisation. But how come the pink girl didn’t get the more ornate one? The guitar looks more on the cheap side, this is a toy guitar, not a magic guitar. And are those multicoloured buttons I spy again? But thanks to the more calm colour palette it’s not the worst toy guitar ever at least.

Smile Precure!

My first impression on this was “wow this is so dumb”, but the horse’s sleeping eye with the glamorous eyelashes makes it loop back to awesome. This is girly fairy tale magical girl design cranked up to eleven and I can only marvel the boldness. However like with the Heartcatch wand this one feels a bit unbalanced, the bottom and middle are pretty big so I’d prefer if the “blade” part was a bit longer and again the rainbow hears feel unnecessary.

Based on design alone this is a contender for my least favourite battle item, but I’ll have to hold my full judgement until I see it in action. But this has it all, there’s obligatory pink and rainbow, overdesigned, looks very cheap and gaudy.

Doki Doki! Precure

This is some seriously extreme lipstick. I guess this is a serviceable design if you want to make a lipstick based weapon, it’d probably not look very impressive if it was regular size. I like the twist-able red jewel, and the fact that while she can use different lipstick colours, the item sticks to just red and yellow.

Here we have the collapsible bow I was hoping we’d get with Shiny Luminous. Apart from the obligatory pink palette for everyone I really like these, again bow makes for a great weapon, and I also like its collapsed form, that thing just invites you to press a button and have it open up. Though holding the bow looks kind of awkward. And is this the largest Precure weapon we have? Where are the huge staffs?

For starters, I find there’s something absolutely hilarious about the name “Magical Lovely Pad”. Story-wise it has the baggage of belonging to an attack where the other characters send their power to Mana (of course) so she can take all the spotlight, but as far as the design goes I guess it’s alright for a magical tablet. And I thought this was one of the items where it just floats in the air awkwardly but apparently the Cures do hold it in their hands, so points for that.

The harp is kind of silly looking but i have to commend it for at least having the strings not be thick as a straw.

Happiness Charge Precure!

A pretty straightforward item, nice colour palette and the heart ribbon things at the ends are the same as the bracelet and resemble the brooch too so it’s consistent with the reset of the items in the season. I also like how it can be split into maracas too.

I think the idea of a star-shaped tambourine is perfectly serviceable, but this one just looks kind of cheap, like we’re in the baby chew toy category again. But I feel this could be salvaged if you gave it a more harmonious colour palette, made the heart look more like a crystal and the jingles metal (i.e. not so plastic-y).

This one always felt hilarious in that you have a grown man character showing interest in this thing. But as a weapon it’s one of my least favourites. The makeup pens that come with this are fine I guess (though the makeup the girls put on themselves looks like the “this character doesn’t know how to use makeup” kind) but the main item is very unappealing to me. I guess it boils down to the fact that this kind of items feel more like that the Cures just push a button and then the item does its magic light blast of goodness and love on its own, while with the wands and musical instruments and such the Cures feel more like they’re actively using the weapon.

Go! Princess Precure!

An alright wand, even if the tip feels a bit too heavy. The mostly white-and-goldd design is a lot more preferable to the usual pink, the dress up keys get to take a part, and the tip looks a bit like a crown.

This is in the same category as Passion’s harp, nice colour palette and a musical instruments make for a great magical girl weapon in theory, but here the result is just too cheap and toylike. No way I can imagine a violin sound coming out of this, the only thing I hear is two pieces of plastic rubbing together.

This is it, the worst item. Magical girl weapons don’t all need to resemble actual weapons, but there are some limits to how far you should go. Out of all the Precure items this feels the most like the toy department just said “we want to sell a toy castle, so have the main characters play with one in every episode after its introduction”. Can’t they use a less awkward item to conjure this castle around them and sell a miniature version of that as a dollhouse or something?

As a toy this is fine, like I had a similar little castle (it was semi-transparent blue and you could turn on a pink light in it) and sure I could imagine placing some Pikachu toys on it and have them dance, but as a weapon in a story I hate it.

Mahou Tsukai Precure!

These look pretty nondescript and forgettable. At least they don’t have multicoloured beads running down the staff, but there’s not much to talk about.

This one is cute but kind of basic too; the gold butterfly feels a bit unnecessary but if you remove it the whole thing would be pretty bland. Still, there’s nothing overly stupid and I like that the flower bud doesn’t miss the obvious that it should open in an attack.

Kira Kira Precure A La Mode

This one is a bit too bulky, but at least it makes it stand out a bit more. It also helps the item not look so unbalanced with the huge glass (?) ball in the middle. And it’s nice how you can see the Kira Kiraru in it; it makes the item feel more real when you get to see the resource it uses. The cream like decorations are cute and appropriate and the walking cane shape reminds me of the candy filled plastic canes I used to get from the summer market as a kid.

I got nothing on this, it’s another magical girl wand that doesn’t particularly stand out in any way. At least the rainbow buttons fit the theme this time?

Google tells me it’s an actual product, but to me ‘creamer’ still sounds like a Wrong kind of name to use in a kids’ show. That aside the idea of piping cream on the enemy is fun, but I don’t think they do that in the attack... But for the potential I like the design; unsurprisingly I’d remove the multicoloured decorations on the handle but otherwise it’s alright.

Hugtto! Precure

This one feels really generic, white staff with pink accents and rainbow jewel thingies. Not interested, next!

These look a bit too bulky for my taste, I think they’d look better if the neck was longer. The colours are also a bit too gaudy for my taste (and the guitar totally disappears in Macherie’s dress), though in their defense in better pictures you can see they have more white so the result isn’t quite so stuffy. But still magical guitars make for a good weapon for idol themed characters.

This feels really generic, like it’s just a bunch of hearts glued together. Next!

Star Twinkle Precure

The wand is pretty basic, but there’s something in its simpleness that I like. If you removed the pink and purple crown thingy it would be better, like only neutral white and gold, and everyone’s theme colours equally in the shooting star (or I guess the star is also yellow for Soleil but it still feels more neutral than the usual pink). With its many colours and short tail the shooting star feels like something from a baby nursery but I guess if the tail was longer it’d start feeling more like a sickle.

As for the prefume bottle, I don’t find the design particularly attractive, and it also feels like yet another case where pink has been shoehorned in. And the little ribbon feels very unnecessary.

Healin’ Good Precure

My criticism on Passion’s harp also applies here, and this time I also find the overall design less appealing with several of the details feeling a bit tacked on.

(the wands have already been bitched at in the henshin item post)

#precure #stuff #ranking #Anonymous #responses #Hapuriainen bitches about children’s cartoons

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snowdice · 4 years

Text

Folds in Paper (Chapter 2: Green Light)[Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Janus/Patton, Remus & Roman, eventual Logan/Virgil (maybe more)

Characters:

Main: Janus, Patton, Remus

Appear: Remy, Emile, Virgil, Logan, Roman

Summary: Janus, a disillusioned senior agent working for the Time Preservation Initiative, struggles to find meaning in a world where time travel could change everything about your life’s history in less than a moment. When time distortions start popping up, threatening the timeline and the fabric of reality as he knows it, it becomes a race against the clock to fix the damage before everything unravels. And the problem with time travel… you never how long you have before the clock strikes 12 and your time is up.

With a partner who has more mysteries in his past than Janus had anticipated and an enigmatic free agent time traveler mucking about time always with a clever pun or a time appropriate pet name on his lips, Janus will need to figure out what went wrong with time, and more importantly, how to fix it.

Notes: Time travel AU, mystery, enemies to lovers, alcohol

“Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter – to-morrow we will run farther, stretch out our arms farther…” (F. Scott Fitzgerald in The Great Gastby)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1

The morning was just as torturous as Janus had expected it would be. He chewed through another pop-tart, this time bothering to actually check and see that it was a cinnamon-sugar one and drank three cups of caffeinated orange juice. Then, he waved his hand through the air and selected the first saved location on his device. He popped up directly behind his desk where he’d been standing the night morning before.

Someone, probably Remus, had shut his integrator down. He swiped a finger across the power button, and it flickered back on, scrolling through its morning start up routine.

The machine scanned through all of the data in the three main system it was connected to and sorted all information into things that concerned him, could concern him, and did not before then sorting the first two categories into order of importance. As it did, he set up his screen reader so he would hopefully not start the day with more of a migraine than he already had. It took about 3 seconds for everything to turn on and settle.

Sitting down in his desk, he dismissed the notification that Remus had finished and submitted the report from their mission the day before, before looking through the next things on his list. A mission had been scheduled for him today, and the details were in his inbox. A piece of time travel technology had been accidently dropped by an archology student in the 1890s during a trip. It was an earlier model of emergency time travel given to time travelers that would dump them back into the Registration Office in the year they originated. It wasn’t extremely dangerous, but could pose some problems, especially if someone who didn’t know what it was activated it.

Surveillance agents had tracked it down and found that it had been picked up by a local and sold. Though no one from that time had known what it was, they had identified that it was made out of a precious metal and it had been crafted into an expensive necklace. Janus and Remus were supposed to retrieve it today. It had been pinpointed that the most opportune time for the extraction was 1923 during a masquerade ball held by those who had bought the necklace. It was a fairly low stakes mission.

He wasn’t set to leave for another couple of hours, so he clicked through the rest of the important notifications and then set off to meet his missions coordinator, Rhi, in her office.

Rhi and Janus got along fairly well. She was a well put together woman who took her job incredibly seriously. It was fair as her job was to organize all information and materials from every other department and make sure the agents she was assigned to got and understood all of it. A mistake from her could lead to an agent’s death or something far worse.

This, of course, made her relationship with Remus… interesting to say the least. Janus could never place whether they were nemesis, frenemies, or mortal enemies, and he doubted he would ever know.

“Okay, but it’s the 1920s America,” Remus was already in her office arguing when Janus arrived. “There were so many gangsters! I could be a gangster. I would make a fantastic gangster! Just give me a gun, a snazzy suit with a white hat, and a buttload of alcohol. I will be running Chicago with Al Capone in five minutes.”

“Al Capone didn’t become a crime boss until 1925 and you are going to 1923,” Rhi said, sounding bored, “you aren’t going to Chicago, and as I have already stated, your cover is already decided.”

“But-”

“It is nonnegotiable, Agent Clockson,” she said firmly. Remus pouted, but seemingly accepted his fate.

“May I come in?” Janus asked.

“Please do,” Rhi said. “You have been to the 1920s before, correct?” she asked Janus.

“Yes ma’am.”

She tapped the screen on her desk in response. “In the last two years?”

“About two months ago,” he responded. She tapped something else.

“Any blacks, reds, or yellows?” she asked.

“All green.”

“Great. Do you need a refresher course on basic cultural or linguistic procedures?”

“No.”

She pushed one more thing and then swiped the check-in document over to him. He glanced at the report stating he’d had no incidents of any level the last time he visited the 1920s and had opted out of the optional refresher course, and then pressed his finger against the screen to sign it with his fingerprint.

The document returned to her side of the desk automatically. “Okay,” she said swiping another document from her left over to be in front of her. She twisted her wrist to copy it and slid copies to Janus and Remus. “Here are exact details on the time, place, and event you are going to, as well as details about your cover.” Janus scrolled through his quickly. It wasn’t as detailed as some he’d had considering this was a brief in-and-out mission, but he still took care to memorize everything on the page.

As he and Remus read through their things, Rhi got to her feet and turned to the storage compartments behind her desk.

She grabbed out two packages and when they’d both signed that they’d read and understood the paperwork, she slid them across the desk to them. “These have everything you need,” she said. “Clothes, money, and an invitation to the party you’re off to attend. You are to get changed now, have a last check in with costuming to make sure everything is in order, and then report to decontamination in 23 minutes. You’re set to leave in 38 minutes. Any questions?”

“How much-?” Remus started.

“None, agent,” Rhi said.

“But-”

“No alcohol,” Rhi said. “It is the prohibition era in the United States anyway.”

“Like there’s not going to be alcohol at the rich people party,” Remus said sullenly.

She pressed her lips together. “It is an in-and-out mission,” she said to both of them, and then turned to glare at Remus. “Do not get arrested.”

“I don’t know,” Remus said joyfully. “I think I still have room for a 1920s mug shot on my wall.”

“Behave,” she said, “or I’ll report you for the cat you smuggled in from the 1800s.”

“You’d never,” Remus said. “You enjoy the cute pictures of Diesel Fuel I send you every day too much, and you know it!”

“Just… don’t get arrested.” She turned to Janus. “Don’t let him get arrested.”

“I’ll do my best,” Janus promised, standing. “Now come on, Remus, we need to get changed.”

“You just want to see me naked,” Remus replied with a wink, but he did stand.

“If I see you naked one more time in my life Remus, my eyeballs will fall out of their sockets,” Janus said, waving to Rhi as he pulled Remus out of the door.

“Kinky.”

Janus’s eyeballs almost did fall out right then and there with how hard he rolled them.

They got changed quickly, Remus complaining and saying if he couldn’t dress like a gangster, he should at least be allowed to wear a flapper dress. Janus had long ago learned to ignore his ramblings. He did seem enthused about the included mask for the masquerade. It was a silver fox shaped mask with green accents that reminded Janus of the Egyptian God Anubis.

Janus’s own mask, on the other hand, was only designed to take up the left half of his face. It was mostly golden with a black swirled design. Attached to the side, there was a plume of golden tipped white feathers. He had to give it to the costuming department, they did have good taste.

Once they were both dressed, they were poked and prodded by one of the costumers to make sure everything was accurate, fit right, and had been put on correctly.

After that, they went to the decontamination area to have themselves and everything they were taking with them sterilized so they didn’t accidently take any pathogens to the 1920s. They also received an oral vaccination to be sure they didn’t pick up anything from the 1920s and bring it back.

Then they were ready to go. The correct time-space coordinates had already been sent to their timepieces. With a push of a button, they were off.

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

#sanders sides #janus sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #moceit #analogical #(eventually)#virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #remy sanders #emile sanders #folds in paper #folds in time universe #adriana writes

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army-of-mai-lovers · 3 years

Note

hello arthur!! tbh people are being terrible in your inbox and the last ask killed my brain cells so this is your free bingo card to talk about anything you like. also sometimes googling sharks with human teeth (exactly what it sounds like) helps!! much love <3

oh my gosh I’m OBSESSED with these photos they’re so cute!!!! and thank you for the bingo card Effie I appreciate it so much. I’m gonna rant about Deadly Class (a show I definitely don’t like and thus don’t run a fan blog for....smh) bc it’s on my mind and it looks like it’s just going to go quietly into that good night instead of being made fun of and dissected and I think that should change bc goodness gracious that show does not deserve a dignified death. also I’m gonna put this rant under a readmore bc this is gonna be long and it has nothing to do w atla. warnings for discussions of racism, callous mentions of murder and death, swearing, discussion of Nazis, discussion of gore, abuse ment

Okay so for those not in the know (which is probably everyone considering the show was on Syfy and it’s being canceled due to low viewership) Deadly Class is a teen murder drama set in the late ‘80s starring Lana Condor, which makes it sound like it was engineered in a lab to appeal to me. Literally my friend and I were in the middle of watching Schitt’s Creek, which I adore, and she was like “well I heard about this show called Deadly Class” and described it and I was like fuck Schitt’s Creek we’re watching this. It had a 64% on Rotten Tomatoes, which usually makes me nervous, but I was literally like “I don’t care because I know I’m going to love it.”

And well. I did not love it.

I truly do not understand how one fucks up “teenagers (mostly) of color go to murder boarding school in the late ‘80s” that bad (I mean the Russo brothers are involved and they fuck up everything they touch so perhaps it was just that). I haven’t read the comic the show is based on but it does appear that a *lot* of the issues of the show stem from the comic, which is...disappointing. Basically, our MC, Marcus, starts off the show homeless after his group home burned down (and it’s heavily implied that he was the one to do it) and gets hunted down by these elite teenage murderers who invite them to their murder school.

Already, numerous problems are starting to show themselves. First of all, Marcus is Latino, which, yes, it’s very cool that the MC is Latino, except he is literally the white-passingest man I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’ve seen my dad. I didn’t realize that he was Latino until they showed his extremely stupid backstory in a shitty animated sequence and whoever was voicing his dad did this really, really thick Nicaraguan accent and I was like wait a damn minute. So then, I looked it up, and the guy playing Marcus is named Benjamin Wadsworth, which immediately made me think that they had pulled a Noah Centineo and made me think this fully white actor was half Latino (and yes, Latinos can be white, but I think Marcus is supposed to be a nonwhite Latino, and I thought Benjamin Wadsworth was both white and non-Latino). But you know, as an light skinned ethnically ambiguous mixed kid myself, I thought I owed it to him to dig a little deeper, and turns out our pal Ben is mixed (also, he’s like six months older than me and married, which is a trip). And like, okay, I guess I’m glad they didn’t get a white non-Latino man to play a Latino character, but they literally got the whitest looking Latino they could think of to play him. He originally auditioned for Billy. Billy’s the token white. And the producers were like “wait you have Latino ancestry?” (how they found that out I don’t fucking know) and let him go for Marcus. And like. Okay. The character in the comics is light-skinned but he does not look white, and Benjamin is not a good enough actor for them to just pass on the actors who surely auditioned for that role and were more visibly Latino but like. Okay, I guess.

Second of all, this show is mega racist and it starts to reveal itself when you look at how the murder kids are styled in literally their first appearance. What struck me the most was the fact that the Latina (whose name is fucking Maria, for heaven’s sake) was wearing a sexy red dress and Day of the Dead makeup, which, I’m sorry, huh? That just so happens to be the Mexican girl’s murder outfit? I’ve tried to give them the benefit of the doubt and speculate that maybe she wears it to like, subvert people’s expectations, but at this point idk how this is subverting anyone’s expectations nor why she’d be so invested in that. Also, she’s supposed to be a teenager. It’s fucked up to sexualize any of your child characters but it really hits different when it’s your Latina character (and yeah, I know the actress playing Maria isn’t a teenager, but still, it’s the principle of the thing). And then of course, the Black guy, Willie (no he’s not related to Billy they were just like yeah two guys with rhyming names in our main cast sounds legit) is a gangbanger dude who talks the way that white people think Black people talk. I keep waiting for this guy to have one line that’s not complete garbage, but I’m five episodes deep and so far nada, which sucks so bad because there’s like, kernels of an interesting character buried in this horrible racist trope. Also, they had him sleep with a N*zi. I hate it here. Lana Condor (her character’s name is Saya) gets off fairly okay, at least in this first shot (they don’t have her wearing a kimono to go murder people, thank fuck), but the way she behaves is super weird, like kinda flirty towards Marcus, kinda badass but not enough to actually do anything, etc. Billy’s white so they couldn’t make him a racist caricature or anything but I have no idea why he’s here. See, instead of talking about the real politics of the real world, Deadly Class makes up fake prejudice that honestly makes the lok bender/nonbender bullshit look sensible. Maria, Willie, and Saya are Legacies, which means that their families are established murderers (fun fact: the N*zi girl is also a Legacy, because her father murdered hundreds of civil rights activists. And the characters of color align themselves with her. I don’t understand.) Billy, and later Marcus when he decides to go to murder school, are Rats, meaning they have no affiliation with established murder groups. So, in this show, the people of color have privilege over the (mostly white) Rats. Make it make sense. Further, this means that Maria, Saya, and Willie should have absolutely no reason to hang out with Billy, and yet they do because the Russo brothers have heard that the kids these days like the found family trope, so they put five unlikely friends in a room together and insinuated that they could all be besties. I swear, this show is the La Croix of found family tho, in that there is absolutely no flavor whatsoever. None of the characters develop into a found family. Saya is bound to care for Marcus for reasons, Maria is using him, Willie is also using him, and Billy is only his friend because they’re both Rats. Saya and Maria are already friends (and honestly their friendship is the most compelling thing in the whole show). There are no other connections between the characters. But they’re totes a found family!!!!/s

Also, they don’t let Saya be mean. Every character says “oh Saya’s such a bitch” but do we ever see Saya being a bitch??? No! Saya is literally just a nice girl who is kinda quiet sometimes and murders people and has a tragic backstory. There’s an argument to be made for Maria being more bitchy than her tbh. And like, fine, if you want Saya to be nice, she can be nice, but stop telling me she’s mean then!!! If you’re gonna tell me that I’m gonna get to see mean Lana Condor in a leather jacket in this show then deliver bitch.

There’s truly so much more I could talk about (Chico??? What the fuck is Chico’s arc???? What in the actual hell were they thinking when they were writing anything to do with Chico????? my DUDES WHAT IN THE SAM HELL. also making Billy straight was so fucking stupid he’s literally gay come on now, also Master Lin is so fucking useless what is he even doing here) but instead I’m going to outline the version of Deadly Class my friend and I have been talking about while we watch the inferior real Deadly Class.

lots of things are the same actually because there are some elements of the show that have potential. Marcus is still homeless at the beginning, everybody still thinks he burned down the group home but he didn’t, Willie is still a pacifist, he and Marcus are still partners for their first murder school assignment, Saya’s mean (but like actually), Billy still has green hair and is the token white of the group (although a Billy of color.....thinking), and they all hate Reagan

in an ideal world Willie and Maria would have different names (Willie bc his name rhymes with Billy’s and that’s fucking stupid, also Willie is just a terrible name in general, Maria partially because it sounds way too similar to Marcus and I don’t understand why the guy who wrote this couldn’t make his characters have different sounding names, and partially because no Latina character of mine is going to be named fucking Maria), but for the purposes of this outline I’ll keep their names the same for clarity.

Marcus doesn’t initially have his rep. He’s on the streets when he sees a girl his age (Saya) come out of this elevator in the back of a restaurant brandishing a sword, and decides to go into the elevator, sees the stash of weapons, and decides to steal one so he can fend for himself better.

also keeping the detail of Rory murdering a bunch of homeless kids, but now Marcus knows that Rory is actively hunting him down.

in the process of robbing the school’s weapons collection, Marcus figures out that it’s a murder school

Master Lin catches Marcus robbing the school, they fight, Master Lin overpowers Marcus and ties him up. He says the weapons are for students only, and Marcus says he’s applying. Lin asks what his qualifications are, and Marcus says “you know that group home that burned down three months ago? all the kids that died? I started the fire.”

(also no shade to Benjamin Wadsworth but in this version he is not playing Marcus. Marcus is not white-passing)

Master Lin initially doesn’t believe him, but Marcus presses on and eventually convinces Master Lin that this is really what happened, and so Lin welcomes him to murder school.

Marcus’s first class is Poisons, and his lab partner is Billy, who takes a shine to him and shows him around school. There’s no Legacy/Rat nonsense, but you do have normal high school drama adapted slightly for murder school. Maria is the prettiest and most popular girl in school, Saya is the mean girl/valedictorian, Willie is the jock, and Billy’s the punky weirdo.

Marcus is, of course, the new kid with a reputation to live up to.

Things kind of fall apart when Willie and Marcus are paired up for an assignment: to seek revenge on somebody.

also Willie’s backstory is extremely different. his dad was a Black Panther, and he was murdered by the FBI when Willie was a kid. distraught, his mom moved to Texas, where she started working a corporate job and rose really high in the ranks. To maintain her status in the company, she had to do some really horrible things, including working with the FBI to take down other civil rights activists. Willie found out about this and was absolutely horrified. his mother insisted she was doing this so that he could have a better life, but he refused to listen to her, and ran away, and ended up at murder school.

Willie got into murder school because Lin knows who his mom is, and assumes that Willie is just as cutthroat as she is. he gains a reputation as well.

also, Willie’s extremely wealthy, and this shows in the way he dresses (preppy jock vibes)

you don’t find out about this backstory for a minute tho bc unlike Albert Kim and the Russo Brothers, I can wait until the right opportunity presents itself for a backstory drop.

ok anyway back to what I was saying earlier

they have to seek revenge on somebody. Marcus asks Willie if there’s anybody he wants revenge on, and Willie very sincerely says no. Marcus scoffs at him and says he’s clearly had a very easy life, to which Willie replies, “Well, who do you want revenge on?”

Marcus immediately says, “Rory.”

So they track Rory down, and since Marcus hasn’t actually killed anybody, he hands the weapons over to Willie. Willie frowns and says that he has nothing against this dude he’s never met before, so Marcus should be the one to hurt him. Marcus says that this is a group project and Willie’s got to pull his weight, and they get into an argument

the argument gets loud, and Rory hears them fighting and starts chasing them.

in the midst of the chase, both of them divulge their secrets to one another. Willie laughs hysterically and says that they deserve each other bc they both lied to get where they are, and now they’re going to die because of it

Rory backs them into a corner, and Marcus uses one of the swords he tried to steal earlier to shank Rory

They throw the body in a dumpster, and after this, they’re friends, and Marcus decides he’ll fit right in at murder school.

ok so that was only one episode but things to look forward to in the version of Deadly Class that only exists in me and my friend’s heads: Marcus dealing with the emotional and moral fallout of his first murder, Willie trying to figure out what it means to be a pacifist in a world so hellbent on doing violence towards him, Saya being mean to everyone except Maria, Maria convincing Saya to relax and have fun, the gang bonding in a Breakfast Club style situation adapted for murder school and making a joke about how this is like the Breakfast Club because it’s the 80s and the movie just came out, Saya and Maria falling in lesbians, Marcus and Saya being depressing edgelord besties, Billy being gay and fighting his abusive father, Marcus and Billy being uncool weirdo bffs, Willie and Maria rolling their eyes at Marcus and Saya’s cynicism, Billy coming out to Marcus and talking about his experiences being gay, which makes Marcus think “hang on, why do I relate to that?”, Willie seeing Marcus make a sarcastic comment about kissing a guy and having a crisis, Marcus and Willie falling in love, the gang taking a road trip to Vegas to murder Billy’s dad and giving Billy a gnc thrift store makeover on the way, and eventually the gang murdering the shit out of Ronald Reagan.

#caps tw #effie tag #replies #not atla #racism #murder tw #death tw #swearing tw #nazi #finn don't look #politics tw #gore tw #abuse ment #you do not have to read this effie it was very satisfying just to write it #arthur tags for later #gonna show this to my friend bc we haven't outlined anything this specific yet

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alitaimagines · 5 years

Text

“do you think you could do an imagine where the reader is in 1-b and has an off and on again relationship with bakugou but one day she has enough of bakugou’s taunting about her class and she cuts it off with him and ends up with someone in 1-b? your choosing?”

awase yosetsu, ex! bakugou katsuki, x fem! reader

fandom: my hero academia

note: where my yosetsu whores at?? bc we stan him on this blog also i’m starting a new thing on here where i put a song recommendation for the imagine, i deadass stole the idea from @queenofallimagines so creds to Jackie.

song recommendations: “antes y después de ti - t3r elemento” “all i want is everything - victoria justice”

“Katsuki, just call it off with me, what’s the point of sitting here and arguing about the same bullshit we usually do?” you asked as you pulled your hair into a ponytail. “I’m tired of it, I really am.”

Katsuki had never thought the day would come where you would call off the friendship. It wasn’t really a friendship as supposed to being a friends with benefit situation. It never led to actual sex but you would sneak into his room at night and just cuddle and whenever you initiated a make out session, that was the farthest it went.

Class 1-A and 1-B respectively wondered how the hell the two of you even began a friendship. Being that Katsuki absolutely loathed 1-B and vice versa with Neito, when the two of you starting seeing each other and UA got word of it, it was confusion across the board.

“What? You’re upset that I was making fun of your class and that’s why you want to break this off?” You growled. “It never pissed you off before.”

You put your head in your hands as you growled even louder. “Katsuki, these are my classmates. My friends. Yeah, being friends with Neito isn’t exactly fun but he is a friend. I don’t appreciate you constantly poking fun at them. I never taunt 1-A so what gives you the right?”

“You have to admit, we’re just the better class.” You rolled your eyes as he continued to talk. “Just pointing out the facts, sweetheart. Regardless, this was never official so what is there to break off?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “That’s great, that’s wonderful!” You said sarcastically as you stood up and grabbed your jacket. You opened Katsuki’s door to make sure that everyone on his floor heard your dramatic exit. “The next time you want someone to call at night, just ask one of the girls in your class.” You screamed as you slammed the door.

You couldn’t help but notice everyone open their doors silently. Awkward silence hit the air as you aggressively hit the elevator button. You had a bit of a walk to the 1-B dorms but you knew you needed the fresh air.

As you walked out of the dorms, you seen Izuku and Uraraka walking in. “Hey, ( your name )!” You gave them a nod before turning the corner.

Once you realized you were safe, you felt hot tears rolling down your face. What Katsuki said was true, technically speaking, the two of you never made it official but you couldn’t help but feel like Katsuki wasted months of your time.

The 1-B dorms were silent as you noticed Yousetsu was the only one in the main common area. He turned over to say hey but immediately noticed you wiping your face.

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he jumped over the couch. “Weren’t you just with those fuck faces from 1-A?” You nodded as you tried to calm your breathing down but it took you a few minutes before you could actually speak.

“Katsuki and I got into a fight and we basically broke up.” Yousetsu’s eyes widened in surprise. “It wasn’t even the break up that hurt, it was the fact that Katsuki had the nerve to say that we weren’t ever together.”

Yousetsu’s mood immediately changed. “He what?” Yousetsu’s scream made Kendo and Juzo walk out of their dorms. “Are you fucking kidding me? What a complete asshole.”

“Why are you yelling so late at night?” Kendo asked as she scratched her head tiredly. Yousetsu asked permission to explain why but as soon as he finished, Kendo and even Juzo were ready to walk over to the 1-A dorms and beat Katsuki’s ass right there.

She rubbed your back understandingly. “Listen, it’s getting late but tomorrow, we’ll make sure to kill Bakugou.” You nodded. Even if tomorrow was Saturday, everyone turned in early.

Juzo made you a cup of coffee before giving you a supportive smile and heading towards his dorm. Yousetsu had sat back down on the couch but his anger was still evident.

“It’s not even worth getting angry about.” You whispered as you drank your coffee. “Listen, it’s my dumbass fault for ever even believing we were together.”

Yousetsu whipped his head around. “Are you kidding? He basically played you! He managed to lead you on and you’re the one apologizing? Fuck off with that bullshit.”

You wanted to ask him what he meant but you didn’t have the energy. “Can we just watch T.V.? I’m over this and honestly, I just want peace for the rest of the night.” Yousetsu rolled his eyes but did what you asked.

For most of the night, laughter was what was heard through the common area. Whatever movie Yousetsu had put on made your sour mood change a bit. However, you didn’t realize that you fell asleep on Yousetsu and he did the same thing but leaning against the side of the couch.

First thing Saturday morning, you heard the giggles coming from Pony and Kendo. You rubbed your eyes tiredly as you noticed the blanket covering the both of you. Your face was warm and while you couldn’t admit to it out loud, Yousetsu was actually extremely comfortable to cuddle with.

“Shut up.” You muttered as your voice woke up Yousetsu. “Hey, we fell asleep on the couch last night.”

Yousetsu shrugged as he stood up and cracked most of his bones while stretching. “I know. You passed out on me and I didn’t feel the need to move you so I fell asleep on the couch to not disturb you.” Your eyes widened as Kendo’s and Pony’s giggles erupted even louder than before.

“I’m making coffee, anyone want some?” You asked as you tried to change the subject. Yousetsu and Kendo raised their hands. “Okay, as long as one of you go get breakfast for the three of us.”

“How about you get breakfast and I’ll make the coffee?” Kendo asked. You shrugged as you grabbed your sweater off the couch. “Three sugars and creamer, right?” You nodded as you heard Yousetsu to wait up for you.

You tapped your wrist to indicate that you were rushing to get to the cafeteria before anyone got to the good stuff first. Yousetsu sighed realizing that he probably left his jacket in his dorm.

“My hair is a mess.” You mumbled as tried to fix your hair on one of the windows. No matter which way you styled it, pieces of hair strayed here and there. “I should’ve at least grabbed headband before walking out.”

Yousetsu sighed as he took off his infamous white and blue headband off and handed it off to you. “Wear it if your hair is such a problem.” You gave him a shit eating grin as you slipped it on. “Thank you.” You sang in a childish tone.

The both of you walked inside the main building to get a few things to make for breakfast. While UA offered pre-made breakfast, 1-B usually liked to make their own breakfast when the class had time.

You shrugged your sweater on when you realized that the sweater you grabbed wasn’t yours. “Wait, I think this is yours.” You exclaimed as you immediately started taking it off. “Keep it on, I’m not cold.” You gave him another childish thank you but this time, you could’ve sworn that a faint redness played at his cheeks.

“What should we get?” Yousetsu pointed at the eggs as well as pre-made pancake batter. “I’m down for pancakes if you are.” You nodded as you grabbed the two things and a half gallon of milk.

Just as the two of you paid for the things, you noticed a few students from 1-A walking inside the building. One of them being Katsuki. You felt your eye twitch in anger and you could tell Yousetsu’s did as well.

“Lets go before I turn around and jump him.” You muttered as Yousetsu laughed. As the two of you were leaving the building, you noticed Katsuki looking at you. Maybe it was because you were damn near wearing everything that belong to Yousetsu but frankly, you didn’t care. “I’m starving and I’m actually caught up on my school work so I get to laze around all day.”

“Lucky bastard.”

As the weeks progressed, you were hanging around Yousetsu a lot more. Prior to the ‘breakup’ with Katsuki, he was hardly around you but now that you were free of the explosion boy, he was usually by your side. Not that you minded or anything.

One day after class, a few of you stayed behind to study for an exam. It was Kendo, Yousetsu, Juzo, Tetsutetsu, and yourself. The group of you had music blaring through the speaker that Yousetsu brought.

“So, are the two of you dating?” You heard Kendo ask Yousetsu. You choked on your spit as you gave Kendo a look. “I mean, it’s been a few weeks so we’ve all been wondering.”

Yousetsu on the other hand didn’t fret at the question. “Not yet.” You shoved your face into your notebook as the warm feeling came across your face again. Everyone started ‘oh-ing’ which made you throw a paper at Kendo for starting it. “Trust me, we will.”

You gave a look to Yousetsu this time but he did nothing except give you a wink before going back to study. Kendo gave you a smirk as she pretended to go back to her study.

“There’s the answer you’ve been wanting.” You read Kendo’s text a few minutes later. ��Shut up.”

The studying went on a few more hours before everyone called it for a day and decided to get a late dinner. You slowly packed your things inside of your book bag as Yousetsu waited for you at the door.

“Well, lets get to dinner, I’m starving.” You mentioned as you chucked your book back on. “I hope they’re still serving stew.”

Just as you were about to walk away, Yousetsu managed to do a kabedon on you. “What’s up?” You asked nervously. Yousetsu gave you a smirk as he put his finger underneath your chin.

“Well, you heard what I said earlier so I was thinking, would you like to go out this weekend?” You gave Yousetsu a sheepish smile. “We can just get dinner or something. Nothing too serious.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

You whispered as you inched closer to Yousetsu’s face. He closed the gap between the two of you and you were now locking lips with 1-B’s bad boy. You had no idea you were even attracted to the ‘bad boy’ type but looking back on it, first Katsuki and now Yousetsu, you guessed it was your thing now.

Just as you went in for another kiss, your eyes were closed but Yousetsu’s stayed opened. Yousetsu did like you, no doubt but he also knew that Bakugou had detention and would catch the both of you in the act.

“Wait, I thought you like Momo?” You asked suddenly.

Yousetsu laughed. “1-A? Pft, no thank you, I’ll save myself the drama. Now give me a few more kisses before we get dinner.” You rolled your eyes as you leaned back in.

Bakugou was walking out of class with Kirishima but as he was about to walk away, he noticed you out of the corner of his eye. Bakugou’s anger rose immediately as Kirishima had to stop him from pouncing on Yousetsu.

“Dude, you broke up with her.” Kirishima whispered. “Let it go before you end up back in detention.”

Bakugou knew he had a point but what angered him the most was the fact that Yousetsu was purposely looking at him and even gave him the finger as you continued to kiss him. He wanted nothing more than to go over and kick Yousetsu’s ass but Bakugou himself was the sole reason as to why you moved on and he couldn’t act like he wasn’t.

“Come on.” Kirishima whispered.

Bakugou growled as he started to walk away. Turning around once more, you had stopped kissing him but this time, you were just hugging Yousetsu. The jealously flared inside his stomach but he knew it was best to just turn around and forget about it.

ALITA

#bnha #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagine #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero imagine #mha #mha imagine #mha x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagine #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #awase yousetsu #awase yousetsu imagine #awase yousetsu x reader

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rotationalsymmetry · 3 years

Text

One more thing about the Ferengi on Deep Space Nine and the idea of tolerance.

(Good morning, world.)

This is the so-called paradox of tolerance, ie, do you tolerate intolerance?

As far as we can tell, the main issue Sisko has with the Ferengi at the start of the show, is not anything relatively superficial like them eating slugs or what have you. It’s that he’s uncomfortable with his son making friends with Nog, because he’s worried that the values he wants his son to grow up with like respecting women and valuing education, will be eroded because the Ferengi as a whole do not value those things.

In point of fact this doesn’t seem to happen — Jake rubs off on Nog a lot more than Nog rubs off on Jake. Much to Quark’s frustration. And Sisko relaxing and letting 14 year old Jake make his own decisions was unambiguously the right call, even if it hadn’t gone that way. And it grows into a lovely friendship that is the heart of the show in many ways. But the show was presenting Sisko’s reluctance to let Jake get close to Nog as being equivalent to say white parents not wanting their kids to play with black kids just because of racism, and it really wasn’t that at all.

(And possibly reassuring white people that having some racism to get over isn’t that bad because here look, a black parent struggling in the exact same way. “We’re all a little bit racist”, right?)

That story would have worked a lot better if we’d seen Sisko having stereotypes and assumptions about the Ferengi that turned out to not be true. But...the Ferengi do actually have an incredibly sexist society, the Ferengi men do constantly insult the intelligence of women and largely see women as possible sex partners rather than whole people, they are actually exploitative and money-obsessed, Quark is a smuggler who frequently breaks the law and his brother is a weapons dealer, etc. While the show is weirdly sympathetic to Quark, to the point that you realize he does have an odd sort of integrity, and Ferengi are shown as being capable of embracing Federation values, Quark is actually everything Sisko thinks he is. It didn’t have to be — either Ferengi culture could have been retconned to not actually be as awful as it was shown as being in TNG, or we could have had a new species and entirely new stereotypes that turned out to be not entirely accurate.

In particular, there are many cultures that have different roles for men and women that also basically respect women and don’t give the men all the power, and which frequently have culturally established ways for people who don’t fit their culture’s default gender roles to do things differently. Treating men and women as much the same as possible is not the only way to seek gender justice. Nor is it without problems — for instance, when women get stuck with the double shift of a full time job and the lion’s share of the housework and child care as well.

I don’t think the Ferengi should have been brought back for DS9 at all, let alone had their role in the show expanded so much, but perhaps another culture could have been introduced that had gender roles that the Federation doesn’t or different sexual mores or what have you, Sisko might initially assume that means that the men don’t value women, and that might have turned out to be incorrect. That would have been somewhat difficult to handle well I think, without making it sound like “hey, women’s rights progress is totally unnecessary”, but if it was done well it might have worked, and actually made the point that Quark was supposedly trying to make about tolerance and hypocrisy.

(Which, goodness knows Western liberals do actually frequently make false assumptions about the backwardness of other cultures and the superiority of Western culture. So it is a good point. It just doesn’t make sense in context because the Ferengi as written actually do have an unrealistically awful culture.)

What does work with the Ferengi in the show as it is, is one episode where we see a female Ferengi who disguises herself as a man (so that we finally see a female Ferengi character and so that we’re shown that not all Ferengi embrace gender restrictions) and then later we get several episodes with Quark and Ron’s mother “Moogie”, who also has her own way of interacting with and rebelling against Ferengi gender-based restrictions. And again, we do have individual Ferengi assimilating into the Federation. These episodes make individual Ferengis less of a caricature, but don’t actually support the idea that maybe Ferengi culture is not so bad. And this is a problem: Ferengi culture shouldn’t be that bad compared to the Federation, it’s artificial and stereotypical and wrong that an alien culture just happens to be worse than the Federation in nearly every conceivable way.

I suppose it could have been worse. There could have been a whole movement (in the show) to forcibly “liberate” Ferengi women from their oppression, one that paid no attention to the women themselves and assumed they were helpless victims and ...

And you’ll note that tolerance isn’t a value of Quark’s or Ferengis in general. Quark is repeatedly contemptuous of the Federation and the “hu-mons.” Narratively, that speech is equivalent to a villain poking at the hero for (supposed or actual) hypocrisy.

In this past election season in the United States we also had a lot of “paradox of tolerance” handwringing. A lot of concern about how maybe the Democratic Party wasn’t thinking enough about poor or rural white people. Except oddly, the concerns were never things like, “hey, you can’t get work in lots of rural areas so they’re losing all their young people to the cities, what can we do about it?” or, “hey, real minimum wage has been going down because it’s not tied to inflation, let’s fix that.” No, it was “maybe we should forget about this LGBT stuff and Black Lives Matter, because, you know, that’s threatening to these people.” Which I’m pretty sure always meant “that’s threatening to me, or at least not something I care about at all, but I don’t want to look racist or homophobic so I’ll pretend it’s about practical electability concerns and not my own lack of compassion.”

Lack of...what’s that word again? Ah right. Tolerance.

If your “tolerance” or understanding or compassion for one group of people means less compassion for another group, you’re doing it wrong.

And in case I didn’t spell this out clearly enough in all the words I’ve written: you often get a lot farther examining the choices the writers (directors, etc) make, than examining the choices that characters made within the framing that the writers created. Sisko’s attitudes towards the Ferengi are far less interesting and worthy of comment than the writers’ attitudes towards the Ferengi.

“Why did this character choose to make a false accusation of rape” is always less relevant from a social justice perspective than “why is this writer telling a story about false accusations of rape?” “Does it make sense in story that this character is wearing a chainmail bikini” is less relevant than “wow, that author sure made a choice to put that female character in a chainmail bikini.” Luanne in the eponymous comic strip noticing that fashion magazines offer contradictory advice is less significant than looking over a comics page of two dozen strips and noticing only two female names in the author byline, and only one that isn’t co-writing with a male author — even comics that center female characters (which are very much in the minority) are often written by men. Notice the man (sic) behind the curtain.

“How does a representative of an idealized Western-coded future spacefaring society, see people who are outside of that society” is less significant than “how do the writers depict Western-coded societies vs other societies?”

#rape mention #racism #antisemitism #2020 election #homophobia #identity politics #paradox of tolerance #ds9 #Star Trek #as usual this is not saying you shouldn’t watch ds9 #or that you should be ashamed if you have and didn’t have this reaction #ds9 is a vast mix of contradictions #they handle some subjects incredibly well actually #just I do not know what they were thinking when it comes to the Ferengi #political

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out-of-jams · 4 years

Text

Airplane Mode || Track 05: Moving On | jhs

Summary: Inspired by Love at First Touch by bagelswrites.

In a world where a bruise marks the first touch of your soulmate, time is the only thing that matters. The marks take hours to appear, sometimes even days if you're really unlucky. Once First Touch is initiated, both parties only have a few weeks to find the other. From then on, the body begins to reject any form of sustenance other than the touch of the other. If one fails to find their soulmate in time, they starve to death.

So what happens when your soulmate is a world famous idol?

And you're just one fan in a sea of many who can't even speak the same language?

Pairing: Hoseok x Fem Character

Word Count: 4.7k

Genre: Fluff. Angst. Idol!au. Smut. Soulmate!au. Explicit language.

Warnings: Language.

Words written like this are spoken in Korean.

Eunjae glared at the screen displaying boarding times like it was responsible for all of her life problems. Though in this instance, it kind of was.

With water dripping down her hand from the sweating plastic cup filled with coffee she held, Eunjae took a deep breath to stop herself from getting arrested by security for assaulting airport property. She’d already gotten lost multiple times in the obnoxiously large airport. And then once she finally found her gate to check in, the staff working at the desk politely informed her that the flight to Seoul was completely full. Therefore she would need to check her carry-on suitcase in with the rest of her bags because there wouldn't "be enough room in the overhead compartment."

Eunjae had been so tired up to that point, from the emotional farewell with her best friend to the long lines and early hours of the morning. She’d never been an early riser. In fact, the only way to even get her out of bed before eleven was if you bribed her with caffeine. And seeing as how her flight was supposed to leave at 6:54 am, she’d been wandering around half-awake like a zombie. After Eunjae'd gotten turned around in the airport for the third time, she finally caved and bought a ridiculously expensive iced coffee. Even though the side effects of First Touch turned the normally delicious drink into trash.

Taking another sip out of her rapidly draining cup, Eunjae tried not to grimace at the taste. If she was being completely honest, it tasted like she licked the walls of a dirty alleyway. But caffeine was caffeine and she would at least try to drink it while she could still stomach food. With a sigh, Eunjae slipped her vibrating phone out of the back pocket of her pants to read over the latest text from Hoseok. She’d sent a message off to him once she passed through security check to let him know that she would be on her way soon.

Well, she would have been.

Green straw pressed between her lips, Eunjae’s freshly manicured fingers flew across the keyboard. She wasn’t one to get her nails done routinely, since it would just get ruined when she worked on a new clothing piece. But Miles had forced her into getting a mani-pedi with him. Something about not letting her meet Bangtan with busted nails or whatever, but he’d volunteered to pay so she’d acquiesced.

A ding alerted her to a new text and she sent off a reply as she reluctantly trudged her way back to her gate.

Eunjae’s stupid flight had gotten delayed by almost six hours because of some storm raging in the middle of the ocean. She didn’t know if she was more angry at the fact that she now had so much time to fill, or that she could have still been asleep.

What the hell am I supposed to do for that long? She thought angrily as she slipped her phone back in her pocket. Hiding her glare behind the protective lenses of her sunglasses, she grumbled to herself.

Six hours and almost a season of Parks and Rec later, the call for her flight to start boarding came over the loudspeaker. WIth a final glance at the blank notification screen of her phone, Eunjae gathered her red mini backpack and boarded the plane. Hoseok had yet to respond to her last message, so she just assumed that he was super busy with his schedule for the day.

Settling into her roomy seat on the giant plane, Eunjae silently thanked Big Hit for getting her a first class ticket on a non-stop flight. Her seat was separated from the one next to her by a wall that rose over the top of her head. There was a small table right underneath the movie screen in front of her and she dropped her backpack on it before reclining in her chair.

As the flight attendant at the front of the plane began to read off safety instructions, Eunjae leaned her head back against the headrest and hoped that she’d at least be able to get some sleep.

With dark red nails tapping impatiently on the countertop of the help desk, Eunjae watched through tired eyes as the staff member manning it clicked away at her computer. The rest of the baggage claim was completely devoid of people and the notes of some slow song playing over the loudspeaker echoed hauntingly.

Eyes hooded with exhaustion, Eunjae spared a quick glance out one of the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the wall in baggage claim. It was too dark to see anything properly so her hunched over reflection greeted her through the glass. With a sigh, she ran a hand through her hair and straightened the hem of her cut-off black hoodie. The material fell right underneath her bellybutton and the top of her black joggers prevented any chance of seeing skin. Eunjae toed the tile floor with the tip of her white, platform Puma sneakers and sighed.

The bad luck of the day (days?) was apparently never ending. After falling into a weird, fever like sleep on the plane where she woke up confusedly every hour, Eunjae was greeted after landing in Incheon International Airport by the news of the airline losing her bags. It was almost three in the morning and she couldn’t even call Sejin to let him know the issue since her American phone didn’t operate in South Korea. The man was probably wondering where the hell she was.

“Ah,” the voice of the female staff member drew Eunjae’s attention. The middle aged woman looked up from her computer with an apologetic smile. “Your bags are currently in Beijing.”

Eunjae could only respond with a slow blink as her tired brain tried to process the information. She’d been lucky that the woman at the counter could speak English. She didn’t even want to imagine how the conversation would go with a round of charades.

“Beijing?” She parroted back stupidly. Her voice was still a little groggy from her attempt at sleep.

“Yes.” The woman bobbed her head, her brunette hair brushing her shoulders with the motion. “We are terribly sorry for the inconvenience."

Eunjae just nodded slowly. “When can they get here?”

“In about three days or so. If you write down the address of where you’re staying, we could have them send your belongings straight to you.”

Eunjae filled out the slip of paper robotically, pen jotting down her new address quickly. Luckily she’d memorized it from the amount of times she’d had to write it down on boxes to ship out. None of those boxes, unfortunately, carried any of her clothes. Eunjae hadn’t sent any out until two days ago. The rest of her clothing was in the bags lost somewhere in Beijing.

She silently cursed her past self for being so stupid. But she’d needed clothes to wear back at home, damnit!

The rest of the interaction passed by in a blur and Eunjae walked out of baggage claim with only her mini backpack and a copy of the form she filled out. Luckily, the signs in the airport were labeled in both Engilsh and Korean, so she had no trouble finding her way out.

As she went through the empty queue at immigration and rode the escalator down to the main floor and entrance, Eunjae gently slapped her cheeks to wake herself up. She’d been on the receiving end of one too many stares on the journey and couldn’t wait for the bruises to heal. Stepping off at the ground floor, Eunjae immediately spotted Sejin pacing back and forth near the escalators. His hands were stuffed deep in the pockets of his thick brown coat and a white face mask was pulled down to his chin. Eunjae shifted her backpack higher on her shoulder and cleared her throat.

“Hey.” She didn’t need to raise her voice since the airport was empty anyway.

Sejin’s head snapped up from where he’d been staring intently at his shoes, and a look of relief twisted his features. Stepping closer, his tense shoulders relaxed. “You’re here. I was starting to worry.”

“Yeah, sorry about the wait.” A large yawn interrupted Eunjae mid sentence and she covered her mouth with a sweater paw. “They lost my bags.”

“Ah.” Sejin frowned. “How long until they ship them to you?”

Eunjae waved the flimsy paper in her hands, the edges fluttering with the movement. “Three days. So please excuse my homeless-chic appearance until then. What I’m wearing is all I have.”

Sejin shook his head and gestured for her to follow him to the door. “We’d initially planned for you to meet Bang PD-nim and the rest of the members tomorrow morning--well now this morning. But we can arrange for someone to take you shopping first.”

The automatic doors swished open and Eunjae frowned at the cold wind that bit across her cheeks. Hands shoving into the pouch of her hoodie, she looked around the empty passenger pick-up area. The bright lights from inside the airport’s floor-to-ceiling windows gave them plenty of light to see by as she followed the man down the wide pathway.

“I don’t really have a lot of money to spend on clothes.” Eunjae’s words puffed a white cloud into the winter air. Unfortunately for her, it was just as cold in Korea as it was in New York. She could already feel her cheeks starting to freeze.

Sejin sent her a weird look as they crossed the empty street towards an even more deserted part of the pick-up zone. Eunjae could just barely make out a parked van through the darkness. “You wouldn’t be paying.”

Eunjae snorted in amusement through her slowly reddening nose and joked, “less than an hour here and you’re already planning a robbery on some poor clothing store. Shaking my head, Sejin. You’re a bad influence.”

The lack of sleep was beginning to get to her.

Rolling his eyes in good humor, Sejin gave a fake, put-upon sigh. “You’re going to fit in with the boys great.”

She simply raised an eyebrow at him and watched as he slid a keyring out of the pocket of his jeans. The van was close and Eunjae picked up her pace a little at the thought of gaining solace from the freezing wind. Her short legs had to work almost double time to keep up with tall Sejin.

“Like I said before,” he began, clicking a button on the keyring to unlock the vehicle; its lights flashed twice. “Big Hit will cover all of your expenses while you're here. That includes anything and everything you might need.”

Eunjae grimaced. She really didn’t like the thought of being dependant on someone for so long. Even if that someone was a millionaire like Bang PD. “I don’t want to just be given things without working for it. That doesn't sit right with me.”

The tall man paused in his steps, causing her to stop as well. Staring down at her seriously, he held the keys in his hand tighter. “You’ve just moved out here to a completely different country; you’ve given up a lot and we recognize that. So let us at least try and make up for it.”

All Eunjae could do was blink at his statement. Sejin patted her shoulder twice and stepped off again leaving Eunjae with no choice but to follow in silence. They were at the van now and she stepped up next to Sejin as he slid the backdoor open for her. Why he didn’t want her to sit in the passenger seat, she had no idea. But the question answered itself as soon she slid inside and the door closed behind her.

Leaning against the opposite door of the row’s seats sat Jung Hoseok. The hood of his chalk grey coat was pulled up over his dark, wavy hair and a small gold chain hid beneath his neckline. With the silver zipper pulled halfway down his chest, the soft cotton of his charcoal covered shirt stretched across his chest. Hoseok had on his own pair of black joggers and Eunjae silently wondered if always accidently matching clothes was a soulmate thing, or if they just had the same taste in fashion.

The second the door closed, Hoseok pulled down the black face mask covering the bottom half of his face and gave her a smile so big that the tiny dimples on his cherub cheeks popped into existence. His dark eyes turned into adorable half moons as he spread his arms wide open with flapping hands. “You’re here!”

Eunjae just about died on the spot. From the scent of his masculine cologne in the air, to the sudden warmth of escaping the biting wind, to his cute accented voice. Her tired brain was beginning to short circuit from all of the input.

Returning his smile with one of her own, she responded, “I’m here.”

As she slid the backpack from her shoulders, Hoseok tilted his head to the side in confusion and sent a glance back towards the still empty trunk of the van. Turning back to her, he waved a hand at the backpack between her feet.

“No more?” His brows pinched together in bewilderment.

The driver side door opened then, and Sejin slipped inside and started the van quickly, likely wanting to warm up just as much as she did. The car rumbled to life and the vents perched on the ceiling of the vehicle flooded the space with lukewarm air.

Shaking her head at Hoseok’s question, Eunjae answered him as the automatic door lights shut off and plunged them all in darkness. A soft glow from the center console at the front cast his face in shadow as Sejin finally pulled away from the curb. “My bags are somewhere in Beijing right now.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened comically as he seemed to grasp the gist of what she was saying. He leaned closer and Eunjae had to almost physically stop herself from reaching out to touch him. Soulmate or not, they were still strangers and Eunjae wasn’t comfortable enough with him to invade his personal space. So no matter how much his body called out to hers, how much the blood in her veins sang out for him, she shoved the feeling of longing deep into the recesses of her mind.

“What? Why?”

Eunjae had never been so grateful for her ability to retain information that she crammed into her brain last minute as she easily translated Hoseok’s Korean. Miles had been giving her random pop quizzes at all times of the day to try and help. Even though he had no idea what he was saying and ended up pronouncing half of the words wrong anyway. Scrunching her nose in thought, Eunjae pulled up the virtual dictionary floating through her exhausted brain. She didn’t know a lot of Korean vocabulary and the rules of sentence structure confused the hell out of her. So she wasn’t confident in how coherent her response was.

“They lost them.”

Eunjae wasn’t sure if Hoseok’s reaction was because of what she said or the fact that she’d spoken it in his language. Heart shaped lips spreading into another smile, his long fingers came up to frame either side of his face. “Your Korean is good!”

“Ah, I don’t know a lot.” A pout formed unconsciously on her face as she shrugged non-committedly.

“Still.” Hoseok beamed. One of his hands moved as if he were going to touch her before he seemingly thought better of it and dropped it on the seat between them.

A few beats of silence overtook the car that hovered over the soft music playing from the speakers. It wasn’t quite awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was the kind of silence that reared its head when two people didn’t know what else to say. Maybe it was because they were both tired, or perhaps it stemmed from the fact that they barely spoke each other’s language. But the invisible barrier between them appeared more solid without the ability to communicate via texted emoji.

“We still have a long drive ahead of us.” Sejin finally broke through the quiet from up front. “If the two of you want to get some rest, now would probably be a good time. Today’s schedule starts early.”

He repeated his suggestion in Korean so that Hoseok could understand and Eunjae felt her fatigued body scream out at the thought of another early morning. She instantly felt guilty, however, as she glanced over at Hoseok. Even in the lack of light she could see how worn out he was, even though he was trying his best to scrape up whatever energy he could find for her. The fact that he’d even chose to come pick her up when he could have been sleeping spoke about what kind of person he was.

Whatever exhaustion she was feeling after a day and a half didn’t even hold a candle to the years that he’d felt the same way. With a frown pulling at her lips, Eunjae slowly reached out to gently pat the hand lying on the seat between them. She tried to ignore the instantaneous reaction as the electrifying energy buzzing between their skin warmed her veins. Hoseok’s hand twitched under hers and Eunjae had to stop herself from curling her small fingers around his longer ones. It wasn’t in a romantic sense. Her body was just reacting to whatever science it was that drew soulmates together, so not all of her reactions were completely in her control.

“Sleep.”

Hoseok’s tired eyes peered at her through the dark as he sent her a grateful smile. He flipped the palm of his hand over to softly squeeze hers and Eunjae was almost surprised when the static the gesture sent through her wasn’t visible in the air between them.

“You too.”

As the van drove down the virtually empty highway, a strip of light from the streetlamps lining the road flashed through the tinted windows of the van. Hoseok’s eyes were already closed, his long eyelashes brushing against the apples of his cheeks. How he’d managed to fall asleep so fast, Eunjae didn’t know. But what she did know, was that his hand was still holding onto hers in the warmth of the voiceless, dark car.

The sound of a car door shutting forced Eunjae’s eyes open. It was either that, or the sudden rush of cold air brushing against her skin. When her eyes had fallen shut in the first place, she wasn’t sure. But as the overhead car lights flickered off, they drifted closed again. The comfortable heat pressing against her side threatened to drag her back into unconsciousness.

And it would have if the door to the backseat of the van hadn’t slid open. Eunjae groaned as the cold coaxed goosebumps from her covered flesh. The soft material her face was pressed into shifted as if sensing her annoyance. Stuck somewhere between the land of dreams and that of the conscious, Eunjae wasn’t sure if the warm breath that brushed the top of her head was real or not.

A light chuckle breached through the darkness of her closed eyelids. “Wake up you two. We’re here.”

The lights on the ceiling of the van were getting harder and harder to ignore. Slowly, the weight that she’d barely processed over her shoulders shifted as her pillow mumbled incoherently. The deep, sleep filled voice set off familiar bells in her head, and Eunjae peeled her eyes open with the speed of a sloth. It always took her at least twenty minutes after waking to fully fall into consciousness.

Her eyes blinked leisurely as her brain tried to process what was going on. The first thing she noticed was that she was confusedly on the other side of the car than the one she’d been sitting on. The next was that she’d somehow grown four legs, two of which were larger than hers. It could have taken her two minutes or two hours for her brain to process it, she wasn’t sure.

However, it wasn’t until she lifted her head from where it’d been comfortably pressed into Hoseok’s side that she finally came to the realization. Sometime, somehow, over the course of the drive her body had acted on its own accord and snuggled itself into his side. He had one arm thrown across her shoulders while his other hand sleepily rubbed through the wavy hair under his hood. Hoseok’s eyes were half lidded as his lips parted in a wide yawn. Both of their bodies, it seemed, had answered the other’s call while they were unconscious.

It be ‘ya own body. Eunjae thought half drunkenly, resisting the urge to ignore everything and go back to sleep. Turning her head to the side, she saw the light washed figure of Sejin standing at the open van door.

“You guys going to stay in there all night? Or are you going to come out?”

While she couldn’t make out his expression, Sejin sounded very amused. Eunjae knew enough Korean to be able to get the gist of what he’d said, or at least she hoped she did.

“Mmm. Yeah.” Hoseok grumbled, lifting the arm from around her shoulders to rub at his face. If he was at all phased by how he woke up, he didn’t show it. His voice was deeper than normal, vocal cords still coated with sleep.

Eunjae was still barely processing what was going on around her, but she was awake enough to slide across the seats and scoop up her bag. Sejin moved out of the way as she swung her legs out the door, pausing a moment to blink rapidly from the bright lights overhead. It appeared like they were in some underground parking garage. The frigid air pulled a small whimper from her throat as she hopped out. The garage wasn’t super huge and it looked like Sejin had pulled the van around to park in a darkened corner. By the way it was just pulled to the side and not in a parking space, Eunjae figured that this wasn’t his final destination.

At the sound of Hoseok’s shoes hitting the concrete behind her, Eunjae shuffled out of the way so that he wouldn’t fall over her as he got out. As he stretched his arms above his head, she quickly averted her eyes as the hem of both his coat and shirt raised to reveal a strip of golden skin.

God, what K-drama is this? Eunjae just barely resisted rolling her eyes at the universe. I think we’ve hit just about every cliche by now.

“I’ll show you to your apartment.” Sejin spoke, his voice echoing off the walls of the empty garage. Eunjae looked up at him and narrowed her eyes at the bags under his. The man looked completely and utterly drained. Like he was two blinks away from falling asleep standing up.

“Just tell me the code and how to get there, I’ll find it.” Stuffing her hands into her hoodie pouch, she rocked back and forth on her feet in an attempt at warming up. The winter air was slowly starting to shock her body into becoming more and more awake. “You look like you need some sleep too.”

Chuckling, Sejin ran a hand down his face. “I’m not going to have you wandering the halls. It won’t take long.”

Eunjae refused to back down, however. With a head jerk at a yawning Hoseok, who looked like he wasn’t even trying to follow the conversation, she asked, “does Hobi know the way?”

At the sound of his name, Hoseok turned from where he was closing the van door and shuffled over to them. Hunched against the cold, his hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his now fully zipped coat.

“Yes.” Sejin admitted.

“And the door code?”

The taller man let out a deep sigh, his warm breath puffing into the air. “Yes.”

With a smile of victory brightening her sleepy face, Eunjae rocked back onto her heels with a nod. “Cool. Then he can show me, right? And you can go home and sleep?”

Sejin’s narrowed eyes lacked heat as he finally relinquished. “You’re stubborn. But fine.”

The man reluctantly translated for Hoseok, who’s lips twitched as he sent Eunjae what looked to be a thankful glance. His response went completely through one of Eunjae’s ears and out the other, his deep voice causing her tired eyes to fall shut momentarily. She was always a sucker for the groggy voices of men who were still half asleep and the sound made her yearn for her bed.

“Someone will come grab you in the morning to take you shopping for some clothes.” The statement was directed at Eunjae and she nodded in acknowledgement of Sejin’s words. With one last glance back at the pair, the taller man made his way back to the van and slipped inside.

The brush of Hoseok’s fingers against the middle of her back brought her attention back to him. With a nod towards the elevators in the middle of the garage, he let his hand drop. “This way.”

The ride up to the eighth floor passed in silence. It was more comfortable than the one in the car and it seemed that whatever skinship they shared in the van chipped away a little at the invisible barrier between them. It was still standing strong, but Eunjae didn’t feel quite as awkward as before. Maybe it was because she was half conscious, or perhaps it was because she’d been snuggled up to his side less than ten minutes ago. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to complain.

With a quiet ding the elevator doors slid open and Eunjae followed Hoseok as he walked straight down the hallway. The beige colored walls and carpeted floor passed them by and at the end of the hall was a T-shaped intersection. Hoseok peeled left, but slowed down as he pointed a thumb in the opposite direction.

“Bangtan’s that way.” Eunjae turned as she glanced at where he was pointing with a hum. He stopped a few feet down in front of a white door with the numbers 821 embedded in a small plaque above it. Hand fluttering at the door, Hoseok spoke again.

“This is you.” With a glance down at her, Hobi made sure that she was watching as he slid up the code panel and slowly typed in a five digit code. The light above the numbers flashed green and a gently beep sounded as he twisted down the handle. He pointed from the panel to her, and back and tilted his head with a small smile. “You understand?”

“Yeah.” If she was going to be on the receiving end of his eye smile every time she spoke Korean, then she was going to find herself fluent, and soon.

Hoseok stood in the doorway with his back propping the door open. He didn’t enter, seemingly not wanting to invade her space. As she brushed past him to step through the threshold, the soft call of her name caused her to turn back towards him mid-step.

“Call if you..,” He trailed off, lips pursed as he searched for the correct words. The hood had fallen off his head sometime from getting out of the car until now and Hoseok reached up a hand to run through his wavy locks.

“I will.” Eunjae smiled at him reassuringly and he sent her back a grateful smile. “Thank you, Hobi.”

Beaming at her once again, Hoseok reached out and gently ruffled the top of her head, unintentionally sending tingles running a path down her spine. “You’re welcome! See you tomorrow, okay? Goodnight.”

"Goodnight." Her voice followed him softly as the door closed behind him, taking both the scent of him and his warmth. Eunjae pressed her forehead against the cool wall closest to her. The apartment behind her was still shrouded in shadow as she sighed into the paint. Tomorrow she was going to meet both Bang PD-nim and the rest of the members of Bangtan.

“No biggie.” Her voice muttered sarcastically into the dark, silent apartment. “No biggie at all.”

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