#pink and green has quickly become my favorite color combination

[mango-fizz]

fancy gals in fancy dresses :o

the refs 🤗

#mangomoments #splatoon #squid sisters #pink and green has quickly become my favorite color combination #i wonder why #i think theyre at a fancy dinner party or red carpet event or some such #in which they eat nothing and then afterward order pizza #pinapple-less pineapple pizza to be precise #no i still dont know color theory

[choerrypuffs]

so this is love.

sleepy-euphoria said: If you don’t mind, could you write about Jaemin being super sleepy and wanting cuddles? Thank you! anonymous said: hi! can i request fluff w jaemin? like oc giving up their dessert for him even tho it’s their favorite but they’d much rather see him happy. lol i have no idea if that made any sense

pairing: boyfriend!jaemin x ceo!reader

genre: fluff!!! lots of it!!!! cheesiness galore!!!!!

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: you realize you’re in love in love with your boyfriend.

author’s note: these two requests gave me the same vibe so i combined them! anyways this is literally just a word vomit of me wishing i was jaemin’s gf so if you like at least a little bit of angst in your stories then this is not the one for you 

You wonder what your past self from a year ago would think of you right now. 

Twirling the fountain pen between your fingers, you stare at the clock on your desk, counting down the second you can get the hell out of this stuffy office. It’s currently 9:59 PM, and that forsaken minute feels like an hour. Your eyes are heavy with fatigue, and your back aches like you’re seventy-five. You just want to go home and be welcomed by Jaemin’s arms. 

In the past, you would’ve had your nose buried in work until at least 2 AM.

The clock finally turns 10, and you sprint out of your office—nearly forgetting your coat and purse. Two security guards tip their hats at you as you run past them. You give them a quick wave, saying goodbye over your shoulder (though you’re not sure if they even hear you). You press the button for the elevator several times, as it that would quicken the process. The doors open with a ding, and you do the same thing with the floor button. You bite your lip impatiently, glancing down at your watch.

After the elevator arrives at the lobby and the doors open, you make another mad dash. Your heels click against the floor loudly, and you get strange stares from another pair of security guards. The cold air hits you like a wall when you go outside, but you barely even feel it. You wait for the pedestrian crossing light to turn green, but it takes too long so you look both ways to make sure there’s no cars and jog across the street.

The bakery still has its lights on, and you can see the workers inside cleaning up. Feeling like an asshole, you push the doors open. Panting, you say, 

“Please give me a strawberry shortcake.”

The workers, rightfully so, look annoyed. They exchange glances before one of them pipes up and says, “Er, well, we’re sold out of cakes for the night. But we still have an individual slice of strawberry shortcake left.”

You nod quickly. “That’ll work.”

The worker nods and walks behind the counter, pulling the slice of strawberry shortcake out of the display. She wraps it up for you in a cute box, and you give her an extra tip because you feel bad. You promptly leave so they can finish cleaning up, staring at the box in your hand. 

Did you really just sprint a mile and barge into a closed bakery just to buy your boyfriend some cake? For absolutely no reason other than the fact that he likes strawberry shortcake? You can’t help but laugh. The past you would’ve scoffed at things like this. The past you would’ve called present you an absolute fool for allowing yourself to be wrapped around a man’s finger. 

Oh, how you wish past you could see this.

When you come home, Jaemin is asleep at the dinner table. He has one cheek against the table, and his mouth is slightly open. Your dinner is neatly set in front of him, wrapped in cellophane. This isn’t your first time coming home to the sight, but you’re still hit with a pang of guilt. Walking over to him, you kneel down so you can see his face more closely. Jaemin always looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping, unlike your fitful slumbers. His skin is smooth and dewy, like honey. His lips are the perfect, kissable rosy pink. He’s like an angel, and you wonder how someone so perfect could be yours. You brush his faded pink bangs out of his eyes and he begins to stir. 

“I’m home,” you whisper. 

Jaemin groggily mumbles, “Welcome home, my love.” 

“If you’re tired, go sleep on the bed. Stop waiting up for me,” you scold gently. Not that he’s listened the first hundred times you’ve said it.

“Mm, I want to eat dinner with you,” he insists, shaking his head. He sits up, rubbing his eyes. You can’t even begin to describe how adorable he looks. 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t eaten yet,” you say incredulously. 

He gives you a sheepishly smile, picking up a plate. “Here, let me heat this up.”

“Na Jaemin,” you say sternly. 

He leans forward and gives you a small peck on the nose before getting up and microwaving your dinner. You sigh loudly. How did a CEO like yourself, whose main job is to give orders, fall in love with a man who never listens?

“What’s that, by the way?” he asks, nodding toward the box in your hand. 

“I bought cake because I thought you ate dinner already,” you huff.

Jaemin’s face lights up, and his smile always takes away your breath like it’s the first time you’ve seen it. Your heart races like a schoolgirl, and your face turns the color of the strawberry on the cake. It makes you realize that you would’ve broken into that bakery if you needed to in order to get that cake for him.

He sits back down with the warmed food and two bowls. You tell him about your day and he listens, piling more and more food in your bowl without you noticing. You don’t know how hungry you are until you realize you’re stuffing your face like a vacuum cleaner. Jaemin has barely touched his food. Instead, he has his head propped up on the table with his elbow as he stares adoringly at you. 

Clearing your throat, you bashfully look down at your food. “I-I’m full. Let’s have dessert.”

When Jaemin sees that you only have one slice, he frowns. “Why’d you only get a piece?”

“Well, I knew I was going to be full after dinner, so I just got a slice for you,” you lie. 

He looks at you dubiously. “Really?” 

“Yes,” you say, rolling your eyes. “If you don’t eat it, it’s just gonna get thrown away and that’ll waste my hard-earned money.”

He laughs. “Well then, don’t mind if I do.”

Whenever Jaemin eats his favorite sweets, he gets this sparkle in his eye. For someone as jaded as you are, it’s something that you’ve never experienced. There’s an innocence to it that you want to protect with all your might. You wonder how he managed to make himself so precious to you in such a short amount of time.

Jaemin catches you staring and smiles. He picks the strawberry off the top of the cake and gestures for you to open your mouth. In the past, you would’ve gagged at how cheesy the whole scenario was. But now, you happily let him pop the strawberry into your mouth. It tastes sweet, and you lick your lips. He leans across the table and steals another kiss, licking his own lips after. 

The two of you talk for a little longer before Jaemin yawns loudly. He stretches like a cat before walking over to you and picking you up bridal style. You let out a small yelp. “What are you doing?”

“I’m so tired because I was up late waiting for my lovely girlfriend to get home,” he hums. 

You snort. “This is early for me.” 

“Let’s cuddle and go to sleep,” he says bluntly, opening the door to your shared bedroom and gently laying you down. 

“At least let me shower and change into something more comfortable,” you protest.

Jaemin whines loudly, climbing on top of you and laying his head on your chest. His arms are wound tightly around your torso as he nuzzles closer to you. Without even realizing it, you begin to run your fingers through his hair.

“I love you,” he mumbles into your neck. 

It finally hits you. It finally hits you that you love him too. You love him so much that you become putty in his hands whenever he so much as smiles at you. You love him so much that for the first time in your life, you think about something else more than work. You love him so much that you remember all the small things. You love him so much that you would do anything for him. You love him so much that you let him break down all of your walls.

“Jaemin,” you whisper. 

“Yeah?” 

“I think I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Jaemin sits up, bringing you up with him. Gently cupping your face, he stares at you like you have galaxies in your eyes. He stares at you like you came down from the heavens. He stares at you like you breathed life into him. He stares at you like he can’t live without you.

He pulls you close and kisses you sweetly. It’s soft and slow, but your head is spinning and your chest burns. Na Jaemin somehow always manages to take your breath away. When he leans back, your mind is blank. He takes both your hands into his own and kisses them. 

“Let’s get married.”

The past you would’ve went on a tirade about how marriage only serves to tie a woman down.

The current you tells the past you to fuck off.

#neowritingsnet #ncitynetwork #cznnet #neocaratnet #nct scenarios #nct imagines #jaemin fluff #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #jaemin #nct #choerrypuffs #requests

[morrowzoranov]

I wasn’t expecting my shitpost to get any traction but I guess there’s an audience for everything, even if it’s just like five people on tumblr.

anyways more BTD x HS shit it is! I drew the three best boys in godhoods the other day and I will now give my explanations for their classpects because I put genuine thought into this and I have no one to talk to about it because no one I know is as deep into both fandoms as me.

Anyways, first off we have everyone’s favorite greasy german as a Knight of Rage. Rage, as an aspect, is associated with themes of anarchy, performance, chaos, and the destruction of lies. With Mister Strudel being not only a literal full-blown anarchist but also quite a fan of putting on a show, it was a pretty easy fit. Rage is also the most violent aspect, often associated with cruelty and emotional outbursts. Knights are an active class (at least in my interpretation, as we have very little solid canon surrounding the classes) that serves their aspect or serve through it for their own gain. They’re very skilled with their aspect but also quite blind to the flaws that come with it. It’s not unusual for them to get way too worked up, obsessive, even. They can get carried away very easily. Who does that remind you of? I also thought that his snuff streams fit into this quite well, since he’s literally killing and raping people so others would give him money. He’s serving people chaos for his own gain. The “Strade stabbed you back“ ending is a great example of when a Knight of Rage goes a bit off the shits, not just because he gets mad and pulls your eye out but also because who else but a Rage player would leave drawers full of knives unlocked? That’s a very easy way to get murdered.

My fave out of all the BTD boyfriends, Lawrence, took me quite a while to pin down. I kept switching between a couple different titles before settling on Maid of Doom. Doom is, as the name suggests, death. But also decay, suffering, and the concept of inevitability. Our corpse-fucker embodies the more negative sides of the Doom aspect with his tendency to be quite “bitter, resentful, and fatalistic”, to quote the extended zodiac entry. Maids are known for two things: The punny way they encompass their aspect (being made of it in some way), and the fact that, just like Sylphs, they refuse to fucking die. Law is made of death since he’s constantly rotting and he repeatedly comes back from the dead. Even though I would’ve liked to give him a more passive class, Maid was too perfect in my eyes. And, though an active class in my view, Maids are quite low-key and take a while to learn how to properly deal with their aspect. “Lawrence stopped holding back“ is what you get when any Maid is done with everybody’s bullshit. And, as a Maid, he’d create and repair doom or through doom. He creates Doom by, ya know, killing people from time to time. And he creates through Doom with his artwork. The “repair“ part is more so with the metaphorical parts of Doom, helping MC in the “You both know the truth“ ending. He will presumably be there for them to talk about what they’ve both experienced, highlighting the sympathy common in Doom players, one of the few positive traits of the aspect our blonde baby represents. I was considering making him a Bard of Doom, due to him allowing the destruction of Doom by refusing to die, but he doesn’t have as many traits associated with Bards as he does with Maids. Though it would be hilarious to see him in the Bard godhood, codpiece and all. Also, he shares a class with Aradia. The two Maids can go out into the wilderness and watch something decompose in complete silence. Absolutely vibing.

Ren also almost became a different classpect, a Page of Rage (passive counterpart to Knight of Rage, mirroring his connection to Strade, it seemed perfect), but I decided to go with Witch of Heart. The Heart aspect is represented by the concept of soul, identity, and masks. Heart players are often very imaginative. They like costumes and roleplaying and the like. Combined with their overbearing and inflexible nature, we got a pretty close match to our favorite furry fuckass. The aspect is also often associated with passion and romance for obvious reasons, which I think goes well with Ren’s anime levels of thirst and excitement. Witches are, first and foremost, manipulators. Not necessarily always in a bad way... Just this time. They’re often considered to break the rules of their aspect, bending it to their own will. They’re also very high energy and cheerful, as well as confident. A Witch will often think they know what they’re doing, that they’re using their abilities in a smart way, and they will often be wrong. Ren is great at lying and drawing people into a false sense of security, he also has the amazing ability to switch between attitudes depending on his situation. He drops his desire to be kind very quickly if the MC isn’t kind back, becoming cruel and vicious. He manipulates his identity, often in an attempt to be more like Strade, which is what originally drew me towards the Page of Rage interpretation for him. Also, a few more things. These aren’t really reasons as to why I made him a Witch of Heart, they’re more so just interesting coincidences. Nepeta is a Rogue of Heart and Jade is a Witch of Space. Both are fucking furries and if Ren knew what homestuck was they’d probably be two of his favorite characters. Also also, though the Heart aspect color scheme is mostly shades of pink and magenta, its accent color is green. Even in a different fandom, Strudel Man leaves his imprint on our foxy boy. Speaking of the two of them, a Rage player taking advantage of a Heart player who they’ve also been in a romantic/sexual relationship with and the Heart player is heavily associated with an animal... Kurloz and Meulin, that’s all I’m gonna say.

I hope the god awful art didn’t ruin this uninvited rant for y’all. Lawrence, Strade, and Ren belong to @gatobob Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie

#btd game #btdgame #btd #btd ren #btd lawrence #btd strade #boyfriend to death #homestuck #classpects #homestuck classpects #what the fuck am I doing with my life #can we PLEASE have some Law and Aradia content #not asking for ships here I just want to see them hang out and stare at a corpse or something #also Ren would 100% be a non-ironic Vriska apologist don't @ me

[miracul0us-multishipper]

Welcome to the Back (Part 6)

First Chapter  Previous Chapter  Next Chapter

Felix’ home was... not what she’d expected. From the street, it had looked pretty similar to the Agreste Mansion: high walls, pointy fences, and security cameras.

But as soon as the gate closed behind them, the similarities ended. The plot was wide, but the actual house was almost tiny. It had two stories, and was by all standards still more than enough for two persons, but for a family this rich, it was almost ridiculously modest. The garden was just a bit too messy, the house just a bit too... homely to compare it to Adrien’s. 

“Mum? I’m home.”, Felix said in English as they entered the house, Marinette hurrying after him. The inside of the building was illuminated by sunlight falling through the high windows, tinted green by the leafs of the maple tree outside. There were shelfs as long as the diameter of her room covering the walls, filled to the brim with fashion magazines, novels and poetry collections. One wall was completely plastered with pictures of a sulking, gloomy looking boy in various stages of childhood. The photographies didn’t look like results of a professional photo shoot, but rather like snap shots of a phone or amateur camera. 

They were utterly adorable.

“Sorry for the mess.”, Felix pulled her out of her reverence. He looked a bit nervous, bordering on embarrassed. It was... cute.

“We only moved here a couple of weeks ago, and my mother tends to overcompensate by... well, giving the room her personal flair.”

“And I did a damn good job, Mister Misery Guts!” yelled a chirping voice from the stairs in the back, just before a tall, red haired woman stormed into the room, beaming like a Christmas tree. Her curly hair was pulled up into a bun so messy Marinette almost mistook it for a nest, and there was a reddish smudge of lipstick on her cheek. At least a dozen pins and needles were stuck between the folds of her yellow dress, and Marinette would bet the bag on her belt contained even more. And was that a string of yarn wrapped around her hips?

“You must be Marinette!”, the cheerful woman greeted before basically throwing her arms around the girl. “I’m Evelyn, and so happy to meet you!”

“U-Uh, likewise!”, Marinette stammered back. This woman could only be Felix’ mother, but she was so... different. All hugs and smiles and loud positivity. If she didn’t know better, Marinette would have never guessed the two were even distantly related.

“Mum, remember the talk we had about personal space?”, Felix groaned and shooed her off so Marinette could breath. Evelyn jumped back immediately.

“Right! Sorry! I’m just so excited. Felix told me so much about you!”

“He- He did?” Marinette asked with a side glance at her friend, who became weirdly stiff next to her.

“How about we have lunch now!”, he all but yelled, his eyes burning into his mother’s with something akin to panic. She shrugged and pouted innocently.

“Sure! It’s not like like I would’ve said something embarrassing. But you were right, her pigtails really are cute!”

“MUM!”

Lunch was delicious. After hearing Felix complain about the english cuisine for weeks she’d been a little worried if she was honest. But the Fish and Chips Evelyn presented out of seemingly nowhere were wonderful! And after realizing Evelyn knew all sorts of embarrassing things about her son, Marinette had given Felix the most devilish grin possible, before starting to worm every little detail out of his mother. But her friend didn’t give his dignity up easily, so the meal turned into a verbal battlefield quickly. Marinette’s attempts at revealing yet another embarrassing childhood story were countered by Felix’ creative solution of changing the topic as fast as possible.

Finally, Felix secured victory by bringing up Fashion, something all three of them could get behind.

“Flowers! Oh, I love flowers!”, Evelyn exclaimed, pointing at Marinette’s shirt. “There’s nothing quite as timeless as plants!”

“Absolutely!”, Marinette agreed. “And they’re not limited to any culture as well. You can have flower prints on Kimonos, T-shirts, Saris; they have a huge significance in fashion all around the world. As a pattern or as accessories!”

“They’re available everywhere.”, Felix chimed in, listing several of their characteristics. “They symbolize similar things in almost every culture. They’re associated with life and health, and their  color schemes cover a wide range. They come in both extravagant and discreet shapes. So why the hell would Audrey Bourgeois want to promote glitter? It’s too flashy!”

“And too reminiscent of the 80’s!”, Evelyn insisted. “Not to be rude, but Bourgeois has no in-depth perception when it comes to fashion. No clue about history, or cultural significance.”

“Or parenting.”, Felix and Marinette deadpanned simultaneously and Evelyn laughed. 

“From what I’ve heard, absolutely.”

Her hand gestures through the air, as if to swat a fly or get rid of a distraction.

“But to get back at what I originally wanted to say, I adore your clothes. Felix told me you design and create everything yourself, by hand! I’m impressed, especially given your young age.”

Marinette shrugged, but beamed with pride. Evelyn Leanne liked her designs!

“I started a bit out of necessity. My favorite color is pink, but almost every pink article of clothing I found in shops was too much, or too gaudy, or too impractical. And then there was the issue of combining! But when I made my own clothes, I could make them exactly as I needed them. And it was so much fun, I just couldn’t stop! Last month I even won the Agreste’s bowler hat competition.”

“Neat! That guy’s hard to impress. I remember doing a collaboration with him last year, and it was a total disaster. He just couldn’t compromise on a single thing! If we had done it his way, the entire show would have been monochromatic black and whites. And on the day of the show...”, she trailed off, the smile fading from her face. It was dead quiet for a second, before Felix chair scraped over the floor with a screech, startling both of them.

“I’ll do the dishes.”, he stated calmly, but his mouth was tense as he spoke. She watched him as he left the room, worried about the sudden change in the atmosphere of the room.

“Is everything alright?”, she asked his mother. Evelyn sighed, looking after him as well.

“I hope so. He didn’t do this for a while, but since he started school, he’s become a bit more sensitive to the topic again.”

She looked at Marinette.

“I was hoping you knew why, to be honest.”

The student shook her head in confusion.

“I don’t want to pry, Madame, but what topic do you mean?”

Now Evelyn looked uncomfortable.

“It’s... See, that was his first fashion show, and I might have put a bit too much pressure on it, on him. He was so excited, and I went a bit overboard with what I promised. And he was doing great, he really was! But another model... he didn’t mean any harm, the poor boy. He just didn’t understand the situation, and Felix took the brunt of it. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”

She sighed, rubbing her temples.

“You should probably ask him, if you want to know. I shouldn’t interfere too much in your friendship, and what he wants to share, or how fast.”

Marinette was dying to know what had happened, but nodded. Felix was adamant about his boundaries and kept things close to his chest. She wouldn’t like her parents to spill her worries either, especially not to someone who had only visited once.

“I understand.”

“Thank you.”, Evelyn said, her voice so serious and genuine she sounded awfully similar to Felix. “He’ll appreciate that.”

A smile crept back into her freckled face, chasing the frown away.

“Really, I’m proud he has a friend like you. I can’t remember the last time he brought someone over, and I was a bit worried. He likes to be by himself, but... he’s so different since he knows you. He walks lighter, he smiles a bit more... it’s subtle, but I think he’s happier now.”

Marinette laughed nervously, a fuzzy feeling in her stomach at the thought that she affected him that much.

“Was he that grouchy?”

“No! I mean, yes, but that’s just how he is. His default mode. But now you’ve unlocked the Smiling Grouch Premium Pack, and that’s more than I could’ve ever hoped for. Who knows, maybe I’ll even hear him hum one day! Or, God beware, whistle!”

They talked on for a while, and Marinette realized she’d been wrong, earlier that afternoon. Evelyn and Felix weren’t that different at all. 

Both were tall and slender, both had the same thin nose and eyebrows. They shared their sarcastic humor, their passion for clothes, their respect and care for each other. Even in their bluntness they were the same, though Felix spiced his with a scoff and a bit of rudeness.

Their relationship truly was miraculous to witness.

“Done.” Felix announced his return and went back to his seat. “Mum, you have lipstick on your cheek. And your neck.”

Evelyn gasped and fumbled with her napkin to remove the red smudge.

“O-Oh? Really? Clumsy me, must have gotten there when I paired the makeup and outfits for next week’s photoshoot.”

Was that just her or did Evelyn look a bit too embarrassed? Just when Marinette decided to ignore it, a door opened and a dark skinned woman with short hair peeked inside.

“Miss, you’re 15 o’clock call is waiting.”, she informed Evelyn and gave Marinette and Felix an apologetic smile. 

With lips that wore red lipstick. 

Lipstick that looked suspiciously similar to the smudges on Evelyn’s skin. 

“I regret the intrusion, but it’s important.”

“Of course, right away!”, Evelyn replied dutifully, turning to Marinette. “This is Cordelia, my assistant. Sorry to bail on you now, but work’s calling.” 

Still trying to get rid of the quite obvious traces of lipstick on her neck, she followed Cordelia through the door.

“I hope I’ll see you around, Marinette! Felix, don’t forget your lessons later. Have fun you two!”

And off they were.

Surprised, Marinette turned towards Felix.

“Was that... Are they...?”

“Not officially.” Felix shrugged. “But the word “subtle” does not register in my mother’s vocabulary, so... yes.”

He walked towards the stairs and gestured her to follow. 

“They want to keep it secret from me, in case I need time to adjust.” he informed her, before giving her a sly little grin. “Little do they know, it was me who set them up with each other.”

Marinette snorted.

“For real now?!”

“Of course.”

The room Felix lead her to was obviously his own, but the sheer difference from the rest of the house startled Marinette. It was small and tidy, white walls, bedsheets and lamps dominating the room. A few books were stacked on his desk and a black violin case stood in the corner, but a few pictures and green succulents aside, there were no knickknacks or decorations. The notebook with his poems rested on his bed, the sheets around it wrinkled as if someone had laid there after making the bed. 

She wondered if Felix liked to stay on his bed for a while after getting up, writing down what went through his head before all sleepiness faded. Did he write something new, just this morning? Maybe even about her?

“Marinette?”, Felix asked and she realized she’d stared at him. 

“Oh, yes? Sorry, I spaced out.”

She felt her cheeks warm up. 

“The room is very... you.”

Felix blinked and hurried to look somewhere else.

“Do... Do you like it?”, he asked with feigned casualness. 

She looked around again, over the room that looked so impersonal at first glance. Then at the wrinkled sheets. The notebook. The well cared for plants, the pictures on the wall and the books that had been read so often their pages started to look yellow.

She smiled.

“I love it.”

-

Lila was careful. She waited until half past 15 o’clock until she called Madame Leanne, knowing full well she wouldn’t answer the phone now. Her number, she’d taken from the pictures of Felix’ calendar.

“This is Evelyn’s private phone, for business calls please contact my assistant. Otherwise, leave a message after the tone!”, chirped an energetic voice and Lila prepared herself.

“Hi!”, she cooed as soon as it peeped. “This is Lila Rossi, I’m the class representative and a good friend of your son, Felix. I wanted to speak to you personally about some matters regarding his situation in our school, but if you’re not available now, maybe I could come over later? Felix gave me the address, it won���t be a problem. It’s really important. Thank you in advance, see you later!”

She hung up, her smile widening. Not leaving her a chance to decline was crucial, as her lies were most effective when she could see her target face to face. 

But once that was the case, Evelyn Leanne would be a piece of cake.

And Felix would have no choice but to give her a chance.

-

“Can I ask you something?”

Felix shrugged.

“You do so all the time. I haven’t figured out a way to stop you yet.”

She chuckled.

“It’s impossible, Alya already tried and failed. But seriously now, it’s okay if you don’t want to answer.”

He straightened and nodded, so she went ahead.

“Earlier, when you left... Your mother said that there was a problem at your first fashion show. Involving another model.”

She noticed his shoulders stiffen.

“There’s tons of problems at every show.” he mumbled and she wondered if this was a good idea. Still, she couldn’t turn back now.

“Did... Was the other model Adrien?”

He stood up so fast the couch shook.

“Is that all you ever ask about?”, he snapped. “Adrien this, Adrien that, he’s oh so perfect and can do no wrong! Can you take off your rose colored lenses for one minute and think about something - anything! - else than obsessing over Agreste?!”

-

Felix regretted it as soon as he said it. He didn’t know why he said it in the first place, his head clouded by undirected anger and hurt and the instinct to run. The best defense is the offense, he knew, completely forgetting that this was Marinette; that she wasn’t the one he needed to protect himself from.

But now the words were out, and he could see exactly how shock and pain twisted her face into an angry grimace.

She had jumped back at his sudden outburst, but quickly took a step forward and bore her index finger into his chest.

“Stop yelling at me!”, she snarled, hurt worse than she’d like to admit. “Contrary to what you and Alya seem to believe, my world does not revolve around Adrien! And if your petty grudge against him is why my crush on him is a problem, it’s definitely yours, not mine!”

She stepped back, chin raised and hand clenched to fists at her side.

“I told you you don’t have to answer, and I asked because I want to understand you, and that includes whatever happened that day, and your dislike of Adrien. So either tell me you don’t wanna talk or explain it to me, but you have no. Damn. Right to talk to me like that!”

She grabbed her purse and wanted to storm off, but his voice stopped her before he even realized he’d opened his mouth.

“Wait”, he asked stifled, all aggression faded from his voice. She turned around. He couldn’t look at her, eyes locked on the floor in beneath her feet, lips pressed together in a tight line. Hurt and Anger were faint memories now, his chest constricted by shame. What had gotten into him?

“I’m sorry.”, he pressed out, trying to keep his voice calm and failing miserably. “That was unfair, and I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have.”, she said, but without any fervor behind it. 

“I like you.”, Felix blurted out in panic, still not able to look at her. Was she angry? God, what if he’d made her cry? “You’re important to me, and I don’t want to lose you.”

If he had ruined this just because he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut about Agreste... 

“I shouldn’t have said that.”, he repeated, wishing he could turn back time and slap himself before hurting his first and closest friend. “It’s not true that you’re obsessed with him, and I-I don’t know what possessed me to lash out like that.”

God knows he didn’t get what she saw in Agreste, but she had told him that in confidence; she had trusted him with something this personal, and he’d used that against her. If their roles were reversed, he wasn't sure if he would’ve even sticked around to yell at her. He only knew that if she left now, she’d never look at him like before and he wouldn’t be able to bear that.

“Please don’t go.”

When she didn’t move, he slowly dared to look up. She stood in the doorframe, body facing him but head turned away. Her hunched shoulders and tense frown filled him with anxiety, but when she turned to look at him, her eyes were calm.

“Okay”, she said and relieve made him dizzy. “Okay.”

-

“What did my mother tell you already?” Felix asked, his voice steadier now. They sat on the couch again, Marinette with crossed legs and Felix with his usual posture. He was still more tense than usual, she noticed.

“Not much”, she answered honestly. “Just that she put high exactions on you, another boy messed up and you took the harm of it. She blames herself.”

He shook his head.

“She does that often, but she’s wrong. It wasn’t her fault.”

He sighed, slumping a bit.

“I... I want to take over the company one day. I’m not good at designing, but I’m interested in marketing and business economics. As CEO, I wouldn’t do much of the designing myself anyway, but rather take care of the business side. My mother supports me, of course, but she thinks it’s too early to get me involved. Wants me to enjoy my childhood and so on.”

Marinette listened attentively, resting her chin on her hands.

“My parents divorced last year.”, Felix continued, his voice growing bitter. “Don’t know what took them so long, my father is an asshole. Only cares about his own image, and what kind of scandals he can milk for profit. He’s... He had his issues about the divorce, just wouldn’t accept it. Mum had a restraining order against him in progress, and the security she hired had strict orders to not let him near me.”

He fidgeted.

“During the divorce, he used to... forgo recommended ways of behaving towards a child. And even before, he was dismissive at best.

“When I had my first show, I made Mum promise me to involve me more in the company if I did well. I had already worked with Adrien a couple of times, and thought it wouldn’t be a problem.”

So her suspicions had been correct: Adrien had been the other model. And that Felix had accidentally used his first name implied that he’d liked Adrien back then, maybe even thought of him as a friend.

“And the first half went well, really. I knew my dad had wanted to be the journalist reporting about it, but Mum had my back and the security did their job. During my second walk... he barged in anyway. Started to shout at my Mother in the first row, and I just... froze.”

He wasn’t looking at her, eyes locked on his own hands.

“He took a lot of pictures, despite the security dragging him out. Of me, looking admittedly horrified. Of Mum looking angry, and of how I ran out. Not only did I ruin the show, he made up stories about how the great Evelyn Leanne mistreated her son, used him for publicity and who knows what else.”

A bitter laugh escaped him, not reaching his eyes.

“It didn’t last long, of course. Our lawyers stomped him into the ground, he lost his job at the newspaper and our reputation recovered. But the damage was done.

“Our company lost much value for a while. Mum went through a lot, before we were exonerated. And my reaction and withdrawn behavior afterwards convinced her that I wasn’t ready for more responsibilities, that I needed normalcy and support. She didn’t  mean to punish me for how I acted then, of course. Just to protect me. She’s not at fault.”

His face turned sour and Marinette braved herself, already expecting his next words.

“Agreste is.”

He closed his eyes in something akin to resignation.

“He let my father in, through the private entrance. I told him how I feel about my father, but all it took was some “I just want to make things right” bullshit from him to convince Adrien I was wrong.”

Marinette opened her mouth to defend him, more out of habit than conviction, but stopped herself. What did she want to say, anyway?

What excuse could she make that actually worked out? 

“I... I’m sorry.”, she said instead. She couldn’t think of anything else. All she knew was that Felix was hurt, and he trusted her enough to show it, and she had no idea how to help. No idea how to show him she cared.

So she remained quiet and nudged his leg with her knee, just how he had done earlier that day. Their silent way of support.

He didn’t speak, but his hand tentatively grasped hers, as if not sure how. She squeezed it lightly, watching his profile. 

Calmer now. Relieved, almost.

He squeezed back.

-

They sat like that for a while, not speaking as Marinette processed his words, and he processed his inner turmoil. 

Felix wasn’t good at that.

He didn’t face his own feelings. He figured out which were productive and acted on them, then found a way to work around the rest. Easier that way. More efficient.

But it had been convenience or his friendship with Marinette, so he had had to swallow the bitter pill and hope for the best. And... this was the best possible outcome he could think of. 

In retrospect, he didn’t know what he had been afraid of in the first place. This was Marinette.

The girl who stood up for him when no one would listen.

The girl who’d rather risk being labeled a thief than keep something from a boy she’d barely exchanged a word with. 

The girl he could joke with and talk to, without feeling pressured to perform.

The girl he loved more than- Wait.

He stumbled over his own thoughts, his mind coming to a screeching halt. 

Where did that come from?

When did this happen?

He shook his head, trying to shake the thought off.

He was under-socialized. He was interpreting too much in this feeling. He just didn’t have enough experience with friendship. There was no way he-

Marinette, seeing him shake his head, quickly pulled her hand away and he found himself grasping for it again, holding onto her and the feeling of warmth she radiated. He froze mid movement.

Oh.

Oh.

He loved her. He wanted to hold her hand, and he wanted to be close to her, and now that he thought about it, kissing her didn’t sound so bad either. Oh no. Oh crap.

He’d messed up. His first real friendship, and he went and fell in love. 

What was he supposed to do? Should he tell her? Oh hell no. No, no, no. 

Maybe this was more of a passing infatuation? 

He threw a hesitant glance at her, just to see her smile at him.

Nope. 

Definitely not going away that quickly.

He didn’t know what to do. Wasn’t prepared. Mum had told him more about love than he’d liked to hear at the time, but now he couldn’t remember a single thing. All he could think of was that his mother had been friends with his father for years, fallen in love with him, and now hated his guts. 

What if he’d hate Marinette eventually? What if she would hate him? She was in love with Agreste, wasn’t interested in him that way, what if she-

“Are you okay?”, she asked him, blissfully unaware of the thoughts racing through his mind. 

“I’m not sure”, he answered honestly.

She bit her lip, and the idea of kissing her came back to the forefront of his mind. Not now!

“I’m not sure either.”, she confessed. “But I’m happy you told me. I meant what I said earlier. You can be hard to read from time to time, and I really want to understand you. And.. now I do that a little more. And can support you when you need it. So... that’s something, right?”

Felix took a deep breath.

She was right, more so than she knew. This might not be an easy realization, nor a convenient one. But... he liked the feeling of holding her hand. The feeling when he thought about her, or when she looked at him like this. It felt... good.

And maybe that would change, for the better or for the worse. But for now... it was something.

And that was enough.

- - -

@crazycookie13o @a-6-yearold-inside @sinfulfoxbeast @kuroko26 @sternsneeze @zeyheartstaylor @elliecake5 @kristycocopop @yamadochie @sofmimis @enigmaticagitator @offically-over-it @earth-demon @juhavs @omgelisahagemanuniverse @owllover132 @kaydenth3gayden @janaikam @mewwitch @bluerosette23 @fanboy7794 @slytherin-batbitch @fanatic-kay @shadowberrybinch @salty-r-a @loosescrewslefty @im-here-for-the-content @lexysama @anonymouse-thoughts @chxtons @ilseofskadi @fafik7 @bloody-no-kissu @himevampirechan @goldenmoonbeam @chrismarium @akiyukiko @heaven428 @magnitude101999 @jazzybabycakes @edith-of-the-moon 

#welcome to the back #wttb #miramu writes #marinette dupain cheng #ml felix #Felix leanne #ml felinette #felinette #felix month 2019

[capricornus-rex]

A Legacy Begun (10)

Chapter 10: The Advent of an Alliance | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: After a long time of running and fighting, you and Cal decided to finally settle down after all these years to raise a family. However, it was never a life of peace whilst the shadow of the Empire looms over your heads.

Prompt/s in play: Anon prompt (found in Chapter 1 link) + fic idea

Also posted in AO3

Tags: Scruffy! Cal Kestis, Daddy! Cal Kestis, Adult! Cal Kestis, Jedi Family, Jedi Offspring, Force-Sensitive Offspring, Settling Down, Rebel Alliance

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 | Previous: Part 9 | Next: Part 11 | Masterlist

10 of ?

Cassidy darts out of the quarters, her precious unignited saber in hand, and kept announcing the words, “I did it!”

Everyone turned to the scarlet-haired child. She wanted to make sure everyone got a closer look of the saber that she has constructed all on her own, she was three times proud of herself than her parents combined. Her quirky disposition somehow reminded you and Cal individually of your childhoods—the medley of thrill and anxiety at the Gathering, the accomplishment of constructing the saber down to the last component all by oneself, and the satisfying hum of the saber blazing out of the emitter that cements their being a Jedi.

“Ooh, it turned out quite beautifully, Cassidy!” you grinned, leaning closer to get a look of the overall design.

It was neat and sleek, simple yet elegant—you strongly believed that the lightsaber reflected her, not just by personality, but also her fighting style.

Two years prior this Gathering, it was too soon to figure out what lightsaber form Cassidy was inclined to using. However, it was vital that she’d be exposed to all seven forms—you and Cal have made it clear that it wasn’t a hard requirement for her to master each and every one. Although her capabilities appear to drift between Form I: Shii-Cho and Form III: Soresu—the latter is the most prominent.

“You think so, Mom?”

“Of course. I never doubted you for a moment, my girl,”

She rung her little arms around your neck, naturally, you hugged her back—wrapping your arms around her small back and playfully shaking her in the middle of it.

“Go ahead and play now, if you like, but we’ll get clean up in a bit, okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded and then turned to BD-1 sitting on the sofa. “Come on, BD!”

“Trill, bee!”

The two friends scampered along, the droid followed wherever the girl went—fetching her three favorite toys: the Binog named Nog, the Bogling who’s been called Bog ever since her infancy, and the Shyyyo Bird she fondly referred to as Shy and then placing them all in the lounge.

While Cassidy played away with BD-1 and her stuffed animals, you headed to the bathroom to draw a warm bath. You politely interrupted Cassidy’s playtime to clean her up—starting with taking off her snowflake-covered poncho, you brought her to the bathroom and cleaned her there: wiping her face clean of frost and snow until the freckles and the pinkness of her cheeks stood out more, rinsed and lathered her head well enough to make sure the snowstorm hadn’t hardened her hair into a red, solid sheet.

Finally, she sported a dark green jacket and black pants—an ensemble that nearly looked identical with Cal’s, spare the armor. She returned to her playtime and kept her saber close, even though it’ll be a long while before she could actually use it. Eventually, in the middle of the trip, exhaustion has taken over little Cassidy until she had fallen asleep in the middle of her playtime—BD-1 didn’t want to disturb her so he set himself to sleep mode as well, sitting with his legs tucked underneath his body on the table, along with the toys, and her arms crossed together acted like a pillow but her saber was trapped in her hand. You’re endeared by the sight—you first pulled away the saber in her hand and then carried her to the couch where she’ll be comfortable, you replaced the saber with the Binog as the child continued to dream

“Sleep tight, baby,” you whispered and leaned to forehead to plant a kiss.

You retired to Cal’s former quarters and found himself busy against the workbench. He turned around to acknowledge your presence.

“She and BD are taking a nap,”

Cal paused from his handiwork, “Oh?”

“Yeah, I just tucked her in on the couch in the lounge,” you leaned casually against the door with your arms crossed and a smirk traced all over your lips.

“You’re not too busy, I hope,” your husband purred as he started pacing towards you.

The smirk on your face extended, chuckling through your nostrils as you play along with the act. You rolled your eyes in a thoughtful manner and then shrugged your shoulders seconds later.

“I don’t think so,”

“Good,”

A single flimsy wave of his two fingers and the audible crunch of a button clicked right next to your ear. He maintained that smug look in his face, you smiled off the growing tension ripping between the gap that he’s closing with every step closer to you.

“I’m afraid the door’s jammed,” you jokingly point out the obvious.

“How unfortunate,”

He planted his palms flat against the wall on both of your sides, trapping you between his arms; he’s surprised that you’ve kept your demeanor steady for this long. You slid down while keeping his eyes on him, giving him the false hope of you submitting to him, but you only did so to slip underneath his arms to retreat to the workbench.

“So, what is it that you’ve been busying yourself with?”

He sighed and then went after you, “I’m recalibrating the Mantis’s shared-line transponder, Cere thinks that it’s taking a few seconds before the signal reaches our home.”

“Any luck so far?”

“Haven’t tested it yet,” his warm breath blew over your shoulders, goosebumps crawled all over your arms. His hands slithered down to your thighs and dug his fingers deep into your flesh.

“Do you plan to?”

“I have other things in mind,”

His fingers clawed their way up to clutch your waist; he goes on to leave a trail of kisses on your neck—gradually bruising them as he gingerly nips away at your skin—you crane your head up, giving in to his lips. You absentmindedly put aside the transponder to the far side of the worktable. He quickly lifted you up to the surface of the table the instant you turned to face him; he denied you a chance to speak or react using his lips, his tongue slithering into your mouth and exploring your taste.

Even with your eyes closed, you managed to unzip his jacket, pale skin popped out of the clothing and he shook off the sleeves until he was bare—he did the same to you and rucked up your tank top. A chuckle rumbled in your throat, it rang seductively into his ears as his lips ghosted over the groove between your breasts.

Cal hooked his arms around your thighs while his tongue flicks your nipple inside his mouth, a squeak escaped your throat—keeping yourself quiet amidst this heating ecstasy was a struggle, you didn’t want to wake Cassidy with your screaming Cal’s name. He pulled away for a moment only to shush you and then rested you flat against the white, narrow bed.

“Hush now, we wouldn’t wanna disturb Cassidy’s nap,”

“I’ll be good then,” you mewled.

He brushed his lips to yours to silence you, his tongue tracing along the line of your bottom lip while you prod yours into his mouth.

Hours later, both of you cuddled in your former bed, truly reliving the old days but feeling like you’re still back to the time where all of you were just wondering where to go next. You opted to take a shower and wore your jacket lousily until you found your way to the bathroom. While you bathed, Cal stepped out of the quarters to fix himself a glass and spotted Cassidy already up and about.

She stood in the very center of the ship—just in front of the lounge’s table—testing out her saber, waving it around the same way she would with the practice saber back home. Cal watched her from the dining table, making stances of her own mixed with the standard ones taught to her, he smiled to himself when he saw her attempt a flourish spin.

“Be careful when you do that, sweetie, we wouldn’t want Greez to find a slash on the ceiling,”

Cassidy spun around, startled by her father’s remark. She was so absorbed with her solo practice session that she wasn’t unaware of his presence; a bright red colored over her freckles as she realized this rookie mistake.

“Sorry, Dad, I… I figured you were there,”

“I guess you concentrated a bit too much on your saber,”

Unable to respond, she was guilty of that claim, she averted her eyes from her father—slightly embarrassed—and then turned to her saber, examining the smooth black hilt rolling in the palm of her hand.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, I’m not mad,”

“I should’ve really known your presence seconds ago,” she mumbled disappointingly to herself.

Cal walked away from the dining and towards his daughter. He knelt down to her level and plants his hand on her shoulder.

“It’s easy to get lost in emotions—especially excitement—but that doesn’t mean you’re less of what you’ve become. That saber is an extension of you; it’s only natural that you’re taking your time with it. Just remember to be mindful of your feelings and your surroundings, we’ll learn more on that when we get home. Will you be ready by then?”

Cassidy’s soulful, dark eyes lit up and her mouth stretched into a wide smile on her little face.

“Am I ever!?”

“That’s my girl,” he tussled her hair and leaned in to brush his beard against her cheek. “Itchy kisses!”

“Aaaagh, no! Not the itchy kisses, Dad!”

It was too late for Cassidy to run away from the clutches of her dad, he had already locked her in his arms at the mercy of his beard tickling her cheeks and neck. Her laughter, a voice that’s sweet and silky like honey, chimed across the entire ship. Eventually, she slipped away from her father’s grasp and snatched up both Nog and Shy—as protection, she pecked Cal’s head using the little Shyyyo Bird’s cotton-stuffed beak.

“Oh no, the Great Shy has attacked me!”

Cal’s baritone laugh mingled with his daughter’s high-pitched giggles. You were attracted the sound and led you to the galley as soon as you stepped out of the quarters after getting dressed. The sight of father and daughter instantaneously warrants a smile across your face. You discover Cassidy splayed like a bird, with her Shyyyo Bird in hand as if mimicking its flight, while being carried in Cal’s arms—your husband gently swerved and bobbed your daughter up and down.

You sneak up on them, picking up Bog along the way and bounced the toy across Cassidy’s back.

“Hey, you forgot to bring little Bog on the trip with Shy!” you cooed.

“Oh, that’s right! Bog always loves to go higher than he can jump!” Cassidy concurred.

BD-1 joined in on the game when he used his little turbojets to give Nog a joyride flight along with the Kestis family.

“Alright, BD! Glad you brought Nog with you!” the child yipped. “Now everyone’s joined in!”

The four of you have lost yourselves in the dreamy, imaginary world where Boglings can ride Shyyyo Birds and a droid can carry a Binog on top of its head as it flew—a fantasy world that your little daughter had created. The parents had a bit too much fun playing with their daughter that they didn’t realize the Mantis had already finished its landing cycle.

“Uh, didn’t wanna interrupt your fun time there but we’re back at Zera now,” Greez announced as he awkwardly put himself into the scene of the Kestis family bonding.

“Oh, we’re home!” Cassidy squirmed away from her father’s arms, she couldn’t wait anymore for him to lower her to a safer height. She speeds out of the ship, ultimately forgetting about her backpack and only brought her lightsaber with her.

“Well, kid’s been homesick after being in that snowcone of a planet, huh?” Greez pointed the empty space over his shoulder with his two right thumbs.

“Yeah, I think she’s become more comfortable with the climate here in Zera,” Cal chuckled.

The two of you collected your possessions from the quarters and the rest of the crew accompanied you to the door.

“We’ll see you soon!” you bade.

“Don’t be a stranger, you two. After all, this is still your home,” Cere added.

—–

FIVE MONTHS AFTER CASSIDY’S GATHERING

The parents’ shifted in where they stood, watching Cassidy with great interest with her change of tactics; the question of what she’s planning to do next buzzed with anticipation.

The droid repeated its attack pattern, and Cassidy was about to put her plan into play. It would appear that her free hand acted as some sort of anchor to balance herself in her stances, her knees were buckled, and her movements were quite lively—matching up to the pace of the droid’s current pattern.

It was apparent that Cassidy had become more adept in fighting with her own lightsaber, compared to using only a plain prototype. The theory that having one’s own lightsaber amplified a Jedi’s skill lingered in your minds together, but the thought was immediately brushed off, returning your attention to the child.

The floating sphere suddenly became more aggressive, but that didn’t faze Cassidy. She’s delved in too deep with her one-on-one with this ball in the air, the sight of her parents were nothing but a mere blur in her vision now. The sphere zoomed in a quite abrupt speed, Cassidy’s head jerked to follow it, and sprang to its direction; affording only a second, she bounced off of her heels, planted the soles of her feet against a tree trunk—banking more air so she could make a jumping attack against the training droid, which looked up too little too late.

Two halves of what the droid was made out of plopped to the bed of earth.

“So-Sorry, I got carried away there,” she stammered while having the kick of adrenaline still in her blood vessels, it confused her parents why she was so apologetic about that.

“Not at all,” Cal rebutted. “For a moment there, you looked like you planned it all by yourself—at the expense of only a few seconds.”

“That’s quite impressive, to think fast within such a small window of chance,” you added. “That’s a remarkable trait that you should hone, Cassidy.”

“Really?”

In reply, you flick your eyebrows up while Cal busied himself with something.

“Let’s try something else—it’s pretty much the same as our daily instruction, but you can’t improve without a challenge in the way,”

Cal places a helmet with an opaque visor that covered her eyesight.

“Uh, how am I supposed to see the enemy—or the training sphere, in this case?”

“The eyes can deceive, but if you trust the Force as well as your instincts and emotions—letting it guide and flow within you, only then will the lack of sense of sight not be such a disadvantage. Let’s begin.”

There was no room for Cassidy to argue on that. She positioned herself in a stance, her yellow blade hummed lowly next to her ear and the hissing of the replacement training remote drowned out the sound of the insects and critters lurking amongst the trees.

Her anxiety was very evident—the calm exterior that she demonstrated while she still could use you eyesight had been reduced to a hunched, shaky demeanor.

“Relax,”

She rounded her lips to release the air that she had been keeping in her lungs, readjusted her fingers’ grip around the sleeve of the hilt; her ears twitched at the hiss of the training droid—indicating that it had moved, but to where?

Fair enough that her blade mirrored where the sphere had hovered to, though it was tricky to predict the timing of its attacks. Cassidy allowed herself to loosen, giving a part of herself to the Force.

One. Two.

On your left. She mentally coached herself, but it felt like she was only repeating the words the Force was telling her.

Three. Four.

Top.

Five!

The droid’s aggressive attack patterns were denied of a target from the young Padawan. The child never ceased to surprise you and your husband. For the next two waves of attack from the sphere, she was only hit once in total of three rounds against the hovering ball.

“Very good, Cassidy,” he affirmed. “Now, let’s change instruction.”

Cal produced a bipedal training droid into the scene, perhaps standing about 5’8, compared to the child who was a solid five-footer; its body was coated by its own shield generator, a single contact on any part it will automatically disable by itself—indicating success to the wielder who has tapped the shield with their weapon. This was a design that Cal took pride in—it was both efficient and innovative, without needing to harm either the droid or the live wielder.

The humanoid droid wielded an electrobaton, similar to the Scout Trooper’s weapon. The towering height may have taken the little one aback, but when her hand tightened, her nerves remembered the feel of the saber hilt.

Bringing both of her hands around the sleeve, she stood in front of the droid, holding a lunging stance with the enemy at the point of her blade—she anticipated the nearly-sentient being’s next move. It thrusted its baton towards her and quickly went out of its line of fire. However, the droid was quick to deflect her overhead strike. They traded strikes—the sunshine gold blade parrying against the indigo lightning crackles contained at one end of a stick.

“Cal, do you read?”

Cal’s comlink rang and he replied to acknowledge Cere.

“I’ve picked up a signal that came in. It’s a gunship, but not Imperial. I think it’s Mari Kosan,”

His eyebrows furrowed. What would she want to do here?

He asked Cere to verify if it was really her vessel and if it really was her aboard it; no doubt about it, the ship that just arrived is the partisan.

“Did she transmit anything?”

“She only asked where you’d be,” Cere received the coordinates of the Kestis homestead’s area coordinates from Cal in reply.

You sensed the distant growling of a ship’s throttle—distinctively different from the Mantis’s—and glanced to the side, to your husband for some enlightenment.

“It’s Mari,”

Your reaction was the mirror image of his own mere moments ago when Cere connected to his comlink. He noticed that your eyes have trailed away for a second, and he’s sensed it too—the gunship has touched the forest moon’s soil. There was a wordless exchange between you and Cal, he marched out of the clearing and you stayed put in watching over your daughter’s training session.

Cal personally met with Kosan, her ship had docked a few miles away from the homestead’s vicinity; he had already spotted her reaching halfway of the house. Mari immediately noticed Cal coming from the other direction and shifted there, she was flanked by four more soldiers.

The distance was now close between the Jedi and the partisan. They exchange greetings, simply by mentioning their names.

“It’s been a while,” Mari followed up.

“A few years or so,”

“How are you and [y/n]?”

“We’re holding up quite well—better than Ilaro, actually,”

“So sorry to hear what happened there,” she hung her head low. “It was your home albeit for a short time.”

“Yeah, it took us by surprise. Neither of us imagined that the Empire would get there, but at this kind of time, it shouldn’t come off as such,”

Mari Kosan hummed in reply, an agreeing tone at that. A brief moment hung between man and woman. Then in the silence, Mari had sensed Cal’s question coming on, so she beat him to it.

“Ever heard from Saw?”

“Not lately, why?”

“The last time my contacts found him, they told me he was close by this system,”

Cal flung his arms, gesturing the wide nothingness except for the green plains where they stand.

“And then they told me that the two Jedi who helped us in Kashyyyk lived in the said system.” Mari finished.

“I didn’t even know Saw had been close to us, geographically speaking. Ever since we got here, it was just the people in the Mantis, my wife and I, and—”

Mari spotted you coming out of the forest, catching a glimpse of his daughter holding your hand, Cal immediately followed where the partisan’s eyes were. You joined his side in front of Mari, standing behind your hip—almost as if hiding herself from the strangers—is Cassidy.

“Your daughter, no doubt. She has your hair and her mother’s eyes,” Mari pointed. “She’s a beautiful child.”

“Thank you,”

“Hello there,” Mari’s expression warmed to meet the child.

“Hi…” the child’s voice was barely inaudible, still shy of these armed people whom she’s seen for the very first time.

“Mari, it’s been a while,” you greeted.

“Yes, too long if I may say so,” she greeted back, speaking for the fine lines etching across her cheekbones and jaw.

“What’s this visit all about?”

Your inquisitive tone slightly shook the aging partisan, but she smiled the assumed tension away and answered directly.

“There’s a base in another moon, Yavin IV, where it’s safer. The rebellion. It’s been established a year ago, the growth is slow, but we have good people there—some of the partisans from Kashyyyk have already been moved there, either by their own volition or they’ve been scouted or endorsed. When I heard that you two were here, I knew I had to seek you out,”

“And you want to recruit us—as fighters? Just like back in Kashyyyk years ago?”

Your hold around Cassidy’s shoulder slowly reeled her in closer to you, imaginings of skirmishes flashed in your mind—back then, it felt like an honor to fight; but now that you have a family to take care of, second thoughts always followed behind.

“That decision lies with you alone. But I’d be lying if I said you won’t be fighting or encountering any danger. Still, it’s better than hopping from one planet or moon to the next just to elude the Empire without anyone but yourselves—that’s not exactly the most ideal lifestyle for a family.”

Husband and wife traded questioning glances, still not biting into Mari’s pitch.

“Think of it this way, you’ll have good people—some of whom you may know—surrounding you in a safe place. These people are fighting for the same thing—freedom, for all of the systems that the Empire has robbed of opportunities and own choices. Everybody’s tired of the suffocation, we’re just the handful of people who wanted to do something about it.”

Cal looked to you, he had sensed you’d been deliberating with yourself ever since Mari started pitching. Your eyes rolled down to Cassidy, she had been listening even though she barely grasp the concept of what this older woman is trying to pursue.

When she was received with silence and pensive stares, she collected her breath after that speech.

“The offer still stands, I’ll be in touch with you—Cere has a hold of my signal. Think about it, Cal, [y/n]. For your child’s sake,”

She turned face, she and her soldiers marched their way back to their gunship. You and your husband watched the group disappear from the glade. Cal shepherded mother and child to the homestead as night fell.

For hours, Cal felt your uneasiness, he had caught the shudders in your arms and hands whenever the two of you touch—accidentally or otherwise. That night, you had just finishing bathing Cassidy in time for bed, the sheen of her hair shone against the lamp’s light as you brushed her in neat, smooth strokes.

“Mom, who was that lady earlier?”

“That was Mari, a friend of ours. We fought bad guys together,”

“Why did she say that the other place is safer?” she turned around to face you, unintentionally moving away from the brush. “Are we in trouble here? Because I don’t sense any trouble or anything. It’s been really nice here.”

Her dark irises gleamed in the lamplight. For you, it was like looking back in a mirror—but it felt more like looking back and talking to your younger self of that exact age.

“What Mari means is that the other place, called Yavin, is much safer because we’ll have our other friends there,” you continued to brush her hair in that angle. “Unlike here: it’s just you, me, Daddy, aunts Cere and Merrin, and Greez.”

“Well, if the bad guys ever find us, I’ll help you and Dad in fighting them. I got my saber right here!” she extended her hand, pulled in her saber from the nightstand to her hand using the Force—proving her conviction.

“My, what a brave girl you’ve become,” you crooned, gently taking the weapon away from her hand, putting it back down on the nightstand and then cupping her cheeks. “I’m so proud.”

“Is our little girl ready for bed?” Cal popped into the room, joining you on Cassidy’s bed.

“I was just about to, Daddy,”

“Well, time to tuck you in, little champ!”

“You should’ve seen her earlier with the droid—evading its attacks like a Jedi Master,”

“Did she now?”

“Yeah, I went like this! And then that!” the child towered over her parents, standing up on her bed as she reenacted her movements from the training session earlier.

Cal caught her before she could get carried away and hurt herself off the bed, but he still encouraged and affirmed her, boosting her morale on her Jedi training.

“Any more training and you might beat me!”

“Yeah, I sure am!”

“Aww, I can’t let that happen—not until my scruffy kisses have something to say about it!”

Cal attacked Cassidy with his stubble, tickling her with his fingers wiggling across her sides while pricking her cheeks with the ends of his beard. Laughter squeaked out of the little girl’s throat, kicking and pushing away her dad but to no avail. Only when she had called you for her rescue did Cal ceased to attack her with tickles.

“Alright, alright, more tickles to come if you don’t go lights out now,” you playfully scolded.

“Okay, Mom, good night!” she leaned closer, wrapping you in a hug as she kissed your cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetie. And Daddy?”

Cassidy jokingly hesitated and wagged her finger at Cal, “No scruffy kisses?”

“No scruffy kisses, I promise,”

That was good enough for Cassidy. She threw her arms around Cal and aimed for his freckled cheeks to which he kissed her back and wrapped his arms around her as well. Over her shoulder, Cal exchanged glances and small smiles with you.

“Alrighty now, my little Padawan, good night,”

“Good night, Daddy, I love you,”

“I love you too, munchkin,”

You switched off the lamp on her nightstand, leaving the bedroom together with Cal. You stopped yourself in your tracks, turning around to see Cassidy falling asleep peacefully, warm in her bed under her wool blanket. Cal stood behind you, watching your daughter.

“When we had Cassidy, I never imagined it to be like this,” you shake your head, arms crossed while leaning against the door frame. “Yet somehow, I’ve always known such a time like this would come.”

Cal rested his chin over your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist while thoughtfully looking at your baby girl, “It’s not an easy childhood, but it’s the lengths that we do to keep her safe. To keep our family safe. She’ll understand when she’s older—we’ll help her understand.”

You peered to your side, Cal flashes a small yet fond smile. He inched closer, kissing your cheek; he takes your hand and spirits the two of you away from Cassidy’s bedroom.

#cal kestis #cal kestis fic #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x reader fic #star wars #star wars fic #sw #sw fic #star wars jedi fallen order #star wars jedi fallen order fic #swjfo #sw jfo #swjfo fic #sw jfo fic #jedi fallen order #jedi fallen order fic #jfo #jfo fic #scruffy! cal kestis #daddy! cal kestis #adult! cal kestis #jedi family #jedi offspring #force-sensitive offspring #settling down #rebel alliance #for anon #anon #anon prompt #anon request

[builder051]

My world’s on fire (how ‘bout yours)

Nat on Fire 9.0.  

Please note that I do not write scat outright, though this fic relies heavily on the idea of it.

Eating disorder tag warning

________________________

It’s not supposed to happen this way.  

Nat rests her cheek on the toilet seat.  It’s gone sticky with either her sweat or her vomit; she doesn’t care much which, and she’s certainly not going to take any steps to find out. Her gorge rises again, and she lets the preemptive saliva run out the side of her mouth.  It hangs in a long rope that refuses to touch down into the cloudy water.  Nat’s sure that if it did, it would part company with her lip, and she could tidy herself up.  But no such luck.  

Her stomach gives an ominous gurgle, and Nat clenches her abdominal muscles.  “No,” she growls, giving the side eye to foil packet of laxatives that didn’t quite make it into the trash can.  It’s the second packet.  Her hands got shaky and her gut started doing somersaults before she could successfully lob it across the tiny bathroom.  

It’s not supposed to happen this way.  

They’re onto her at SHIELD; Fury giving her extra-long stares in meetings, Maria tapping her pen as Nat steps on the scale in her medical debriefs.  Then there’s Steve, who practically lives with her when he’s not called away on missions of his own.  “Just want to make sure you’re alright,” he says.  “Because I care about you,” he says.

Plainly he doesn’t care enough.  He took his bike back to Alexandria after the plane touched down last night, and Nat has seen neither hide nor hair of him since.  Good riddance, she’d thought.  So she’d hopped, skipped, and jumped straight to the pharmacy and loaded up on her favorite brand of laxatives.  They’ve updated the font on the box, and the colors are a little brighter since the decade has changed, but the formulation is the same.  Nat has the ingredients list memorized.  She could probably formulate the medication herself if she had access to all the right -ics and -ates.  

Nat’s rock-hard core can only prevent the inevitable for so long, and when the pit of her stomach begins to feel as though it’s scorching on a bed of hot coals, she reluctantly lets go, leaning forward and letting sourness spill over her tongue again.  

She tastes the plasticky reddish coating.  It’s slightly sweet, and Nat finds herself wondering vaguely how much sucralose is swimming in her stomach.  Or maybe aspartame.  Or even maltitol.  That would be a fitting choice.  She nearly snorts, but it becomes a heave.  A wave of pinkish fluid, chunky with mucous flows into the toilet slowly, almost languidly, as if it’s just dying to choke her on an ill-timed breath.

Nat spits hard, then squeezes her pelvic floor again.  She’ll do just about anything in her power to keep from losing her bowels all over the bathmat.  For a second she considers clawing her way up the tank and plopping down on the toilet seat, but that would be too much effort. And inviting the worst.  No, she’ll stay in her current position, thank you very much.

She’s about to lie the side of her face down again when an infernal buzzing fills her ears.  The bathroom may be the size of a matchbox, but the subway tiling makes it echo like Grand Central Station.  She glances sideways at her phone, balanced on the lip of the bathtub, and rotating slightly with each thrumming vibration.  

It’s Steve’s picture that pops up on the screen, a jaunty shot of him in a leather jacket, standing beside his bike.  Nat scoffs.  The image is practically half a decade in age, but she still feels jealousy along with the pain in the pit of her stomach.  He’s out having fun, or whatever, while she’s cooped up doing... this.

This is her choice, though.  And it’s her choice whether to answer the call.  She bites her lip, tasting a tinge of coppery blood through the sourness and sweetness that are already there.  Nat rolls her eyes, then regrets it almost immediately.  It bypasses making her head hurt and goes straight to her stomach, ramping up the nausea and forcing her to roll to face the mess in the toilet water once more.

The phone stops ringing as she pukes up air and not much else.  Nat sighs in relief, though she’s careful not to relax her body too much.  But her temper spikes again quickly when the devices begins to vibrate again almost immediately.  

“Can’t you just shut the fuck up?” she mumbles, swatting a hand in the phone’s general direction.  The phone stubbornly ignores her.  

“Right.”

Not trusting herself to stray far from the toilet, Nat uses her foot to knock the device onto the floor so she can pick it up.  She snags it in her clammy grip and snorts in distaste before swiping at the green answer button.

“Yeah?” she asks gruffly, hoping the hoarseness in her voice will be lost to a combination of bad mood and bad signal.

“You ok?” Steve asks on the other end of the crackling line.  “I know it’s been a few days.”

Nat wonders if any of her old lines will work on him.  I’ve got the stomach flu, she considers saying.  I ate some bad takeout.

“Having a smoke,” she decides on.  At least it’ll explain the note of guilt in her voice.  

“In the bathroom?” Steve asks.  Of course he can hear the echo.  Of course he can.

Nat struggles to think on her feet.  “Gotta avoid the smoke detectors somehow.”  She tries to grin, but loosening her mouth makes other parts of her body loose as well.  She clenches again and bares her teeth.

“Want me to come over?  Between the two of us we can probably rewire it--”

“No,” Nat interrupts.  The only reason she hasn’t already done so is because the place is a rental.  On the very real chance that a spark from her gun or the ash from a joint hit the carpet, she doesn’t want to be in trouble with management.  She decides to throw in a touch of shade, just for good measure.  “Like I’d need your help with a project like that.”

“Oh.  Sure.”  Steve sounds properly chagrined. “But still, I could pick up something.  Korean barbecue, or something.”

Nat tries not to spill her guts again.  From any direction.  “I don’t like barbecue.  From any country,” she says snootily.  

“Right...”  She can tell Steve’s trying to fact check her.  “But weren’t you at Clint’s thing--?”

“I don’t like it,” Nat insists, which probably does the opposite of any good.  She just doesn’t feel well enough to come up with any other excuses.  Best to keep beating the last horse till it’s well and truly deceased.  Unfortunately, this brings up an image of ground equine like she’s seen in European factories, covered in a generous serving of Carolina’s best concoction of tomato and brown sugar.

Nat pulls the phone from her ear to her cleavage and heaves hard.  For a moment everything hangs in limbo, and she’s not sure where the sickness in the pit of her stomach is going to come from next.  But then with another cough, it’s all down her chin and speckled across the toilet seat, pink and gluey.

“Nat?”  Steve’s muffled voice asks, the phone buzzing in time with his words and sending minute vibrations through her shirt and into her very skin.  “You ok?  What’s going on?”

She has a split second to decide what to say.  If she hangs up, he’ll be onto her in a second.  If she makes an excuse, will he buy it?  Can she claim PMS?  Has she told him yet that she’s infertile?  Nat clenches her abs and glutes as she tries to remember.

“Natasha?”

“I’m just sick,” she says guiltily, hanging her head in mock shame that feels more than real.  

“I thought you were smoking...”  He’s suspicious now.  Nat can practically see the concerned crease between Steve’s eyebrows.

“I was.”  Nat breathes through a cramp.  “I just, uh, it’s been too long.  Turned my stomach.”

She’s surprised when Steve starts to laugh.  “Hm.  Yeah,” he says with a chuckle.  “I know how that is.  Only happened to me about twenty times before Buck finally banned me from cigarettes...”  He sounds almost wistful now.

“Yeh.”  Nat does her best to agree while swallowing another rising gag.

“You want me to come?  Best remedy there is to have something to eat.  Maybe rice and egg drop soup?” Steve offers.  “I promise to leave the barbecue there.”

Nat would smile if she thought she could.  Maybe.  Possibly.  She hasn’t yet decided.  What she can do is grimace as her lower abdomen begins to twist in a manner of more familiar discomfort.

“Nah,” she whispers, trying not to gasp in pain.  “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”

Steve sighs over the other end of the line.  He pauses, then says, “Ok.  Later, then?”

Nat knows she isn’t getting off the hook.  Best she can do is keep him away long enough to let her empty out in peace.  She doesn’t know how long it’ll take.  Hours, possibly.  

She doesn’t know what time it is, but Nat assumes it’s close to the lunch hour, since it’s light outside and Steve’s so hell bent on food.  “Maybe dinner?” she poses.  

“Sure,” Steve says with what can only be described as a sigh as relief.  It must confirm to him that she’s not too far gone.  

Nat’s pleased with what she’s managed to do, but now guilt squeezes her gut and threatens to make her sick all over again.  

“Eight, maybe?” Steve suggests.  “I’ll bring the food.”

“Yeah, ok.”  Nat’s mouth is watering again, but not with anticipation of the meal to come.  She wants to get off the phone before she vomits again, or, god forbid, before her body decides to do anything else.  “Thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

“Ok.  See you.” Nat lowers the phone and presses the red button before Steve finishes saying goodbye.

“Ok,” she sighs, lowering her forehead to the toilet seat again.  “Ok.”  She glances down at her phone again to check the time.  Just under seven hours to go.  It’s more than enough time.  She’ll be fine.  

Nat considers bolting across the tiny studio to crack the window and air the place out, but her stomach drops again, and she knows she won’t make it in time.  Oh well.  Just another thing to do later, then.  Along with cleaning up.  Getting dressed.  Readying the disaster of an apartment for favorite unwanted houseguest.  

Because for fuck’s sake, it’s not supposed to happen this way. 

#nat on fire #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #Black Widow #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #mcu #captain america #steve rogers #eating disorders #ed tw #laxitives #emeto #emetophilia #illumivomi #hurt/comfort

[jcmorrigan]

Epithet Half-Baked!

I saw through @selfshipimagines that @nougatships is having a Yuletide F/O event...and I know I’m kind of a flighty, shadowy entity in this community, but I do like to write, and thought, what the hey, this’ll be fun. So here I come out of nowhere to contribute a thing.

The F/O? Giovanni Potage from Epithet Erased. The S/I? Rachel Scribere - mundie, writer of much fanfiction, independent contractor supervillainous minion who has also given up on adulting. (Most of those things apply to me IRL!) I decided to go with something a little on-the-nose for the “catering” theme and write about the two of us trying to arrange party food - expect much food talk and many headcanons (e.g. I see Gio as ace, even though that may not end up being Word of God). For optimal results, please listen to the Mariah Carey/MCR mashup “Welcome to the Christmas Parade” while reading this. Not to mention that song will change your life anyway. (Freeman DNI unless you’re going to get the name of the band CORRECT) 

***

I wouldn’t say Christmas was my favorite holiday, because it really wasn’t. Nor would Giovanni ever say Christmas was his favorite holiday, because he wanted to look like a cool guy who didn’t care about Christmas. That said, when our invitation arrived in the mail, neither of us needed to do much cajoling to get the other to agree to attend as a plus-one. Almost immediately, we’d begun work on what we were going to wear to the occasion.

           Well, to be fair, Giovanni was doing most of the work in that department. I’m still trying to figure out how a needle and thread even works for something besides a dangerous impromptu sushi fork. I did play a role in the design of my formal wear, however – a full-skirted red-and-green gown that served the purpose of making me look like the princess of Christmas and thereby able to pass laws banning the repeated playing of “Jingle Bell Rock” more than three times per night. As for Giovanni, he was dead set on creating the World’s Ugliest Christmas Sweater, and boy, did it ever deserve that capitalization. I don’t have the words to you to describe properly the conglomeration of non-coordinating colors and mismatched winter-holiday symbolism that went into that monstrosity. Which basically meant we were going to be the two best-dressed people in attendance.

           However, that still left the important factor: the catering aspect. This was essentially a potluck, and as much as we would have loved to skim off everyone else’s hors d’ouevres and pretend we “dropped” ours on the way there, eventually, our need to show off our cooking skills combined with my compulsion to contribute to community activities won out over the dark side of our consciences.

           My first mistake was going into that kitchen with no idea what Giovanni was planning on making. Me? I was set on a hot-chocolate-and-marshmallow cake. Festive and full of my two favorite flavors! Not to mention I’d baked in the past as a hobby, though it had, admittedly, been a while. I was actually rather looking forward to this.

           “So, Composer,” Giovanni asked as I set up my laptop, “can we expect any musical entertainment?”

           “Damn right,” I said as I clicked through playlists.

           “Just please tell me you’re not gonna stick us with three hours of Christmas music bullshit.”

           “Oh, trust me. We are going to get enough of that at this party.” I set off a rather jaunty emo-pop number with guitars that were just obnoxious enough.

           “Oh, yeah,” Giovanni cried, “this is PERFECT! Totally captures our debonair yet badass essence. THIS is why I let you pick the car music.”

           I gave him a playful bow. “Okay. Let’s do this thing.”

           I began rounding up my ingredients: flour, sugar, cocoa powder, et cetera, et cetera…

           “Done.”

           Wait…”What?”

           I had only just gotten my ingredients lined up on the counter, yet Giovanni was leaning over the other edge of the island, elbows on the countertop and head in his hands to give me a playfully innocent look, as an enormous pot of something steaming, golden, and tantalizingly scented sat before him.

           I peered into the vessel, making note of the contents. “Is this…butternut squash soup?”

           “You know it.”

           “…You made soup.”

           “Is there a…problem with that?”

           “Your Epithet is literally soup.”

           “Aaaaaand…?”

           I marched around to shake my index finger at him on every word: “You. Fucking. CHEATED.”

           He rose, pointing right back at me: “I’m. The. BAD GUY. So I don’t care!”

           I gave my eyes a sufficiently dramatic roll. “You realize this is gonna take me like two hours.”

           “I’ll watch.”

           “You could at least help. You’re good with this stuff, you know.”

           “Hmm…” Giovanni pretended to think it over. “No, don’t think I will.”

           “I hate you.”

           “That’s too bad, because I love you a lot, Composer.”

           I blushed, then muttering “IloveyoutooandIdon’thateyouandIwasjustkidding.” Quickly followed up with “Okay, I’m gonna start doing this shit BY MYSELF, then.”

           Baking an entire cake with your boyfriend just smugly staring at you is…an experience. Not a bad experience. But an experience. Still, I thought I was on a good track so far. Until it came to the electric mixer.

           As a disclaimer, I stated, “It’s been a while. I’m a little rusty.”

           “It’s just an electric mixer.” He shrugged. “Even I couldn’t screw up – I mean even SOME LOSER LIKE SYLVIE couldn’t screw up using it.”

           Well, now the pressure was on. I flicked the appliance to life, dipping it into a pool of eggs suspended in buttermilk, and immediately plunged into chaos. The thing about electric mixers is that they are an extreme balancing act. Too far down into the bowl, and the blades will make a horrible grinding noise against the bowl bottom, making a catastrophizer like me worry about glass shards ending up baked into the dough. However, it is very important that if this happens to you, you do not do what I did and overcompensate by yanking the still-spinning blades out of the bowl, thereby splattering eggs and buttermilk all over yourself.

           As I was attempting to figure out damage control, I became acutely aware of Giovanni trying to hide an absolute fit of giggles. “You know,” I growled, “this wouldn’t HAPPEN if you would HELP me.”

           I absolutely did not want him to help me. See, I have an inferiority complex the size of the sun, and even that feels weird to say, since it’s admitting I actually possess a large quantity of anything. I wanted to make this monster cake my goddamn self, and I wanted him to be fucking impressed. Still, I was pretty sure if I didn’t ask for his help, I would just end up with some kind of inedible toxic waste.

           I wasn’t sure if he was just playing coy or if he knew me all too well when he said “No. Don’t feel like it.”

           “Come on!”

           “Composer, this is YOUR time to shine! I’m not getting in the way of YOUR masterpiece blowing away the competition?”

           “…Gio, it’s not a com – “

           “OF COURSE IT’S A COMPETITION! EVERY POTLUCK IS A COMPETITION! WHY ELSE HAVE EVERYONE BRING DISHES OF VARYING QUALITY IF NOT TO DETERMINE THE SUPREME CHEF AT THE PARTY?”

           Well, if it meant somebody might think of me as supreme chef, I sure wasn’t going to argue. Unhealthy as that might be for my ego.

           So I let Giovanni actively not help me. Even when I tried to crack another egg and it rather exploded from my overuse of momentum. But thankfully, the rest of it seemed to be coming together well. As it baked, I decided to use that time to put together the icing. The recipe, of course, called for cream cheese icing, but that is not real icing (don’t @ me) and I absolutely refuse to sully any of my confections with it, ever. I was making the real stuff – just butter, chocolate, milk, and way too much sugar.

           However, that meant a rematch with my archnemesis: the electric mixer. I gave it a very sour glare as I picked it up again.

           “Ooh, someone’s mad,” Giovanni teased.

           “Damn right I’m mad,” I told him. “This thing fucking hates me.”

           “No…I think you’re just bad with it.”

           “WHAT THE – “

           He was at my side then, using one hand to guide my face upward to meet his gaze: “Because no one and nothing could ever hate you, my beautiful, beautiful Composer. And anyone who does can EAT SOUL-SLUGGER DOOM-BAT.”

           Well. Now I was a flustered mess. I gently leaned forward to rest my forehead temporarily on his collarbone. “No, you,” I teased. “I mean it. People who hate you don’t have souls. End of discourse.”

           “And this is why we GO TOGETHER!”

           “Damn straight.”

           It would have been a beautiful moment if I hadn’t been thwarted, yet again, by the mixer. The grinding of the glass, the startled removal of the blades, a chocolate splatter –

           Except this time, it missed me. No, the stuff made a direct hit on the tall, pink-haired, and handsome card-carrying villain standing next to me.

           I gaped at him momentarily, unsure what to say. Then it all came rushing out: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry – “

           “Sorry?” he repeated, and at first, I thought he actually was angry. “You’re SORRY? Oh, it’s too late to be sorry, Composer.”

           When he picked up the quarter-full bottle of vanilla extract from the counter beside us, I realized his game. “This means war,” he growled in a not-very-growly-at-all way.

           Our eyes locked. His way of asking permission. I gave the slightest of nods; “I guess I deserve it. But you know I’m not going down without a fight.”

           The vanilla sloshed onto me. I smashed an egg onto his shirt. He dumped about a half-gallon of soup down the back of mine.

           Now, what you must understand about a food fight that takes place in the Potage-Scribere kitchen is that anything, and I mean absolutely anything, becomes a weapon. Even things that weren’t part of the dishes we were cooking. The refrigerator was raided, the cupboards stripped bare for the ensuing battle. Whatever we could hit each other with, we did. Smashing tomatoes against each other. Sneaking ice cubes into each other’s clothes to try and get a shriek. Several different flavors of soup flying through the air, of course. Retaliation in the form of grabbing the sprayer from the sink and brandishing it like a Banzai Blaster standard-issue pea-shooter.

           Then my timer let out a “ding” to inform me that the cake was done baking. Giovanni froze, standing perfectly still as I transferred the cake to the fridge to let it cool down.

           Then we picked up right where we left off.

           It came to a head when Giovanni had ended up with two cans of aerosol whipped cream, dual-wielding them at me. I had an ice cream scoop in a tub of whipped cream, ready to lob it like a snowball.

           Wait -            “Gio, why do we have three things of whipped cream?”

           “Well, I picked these up when you texted me our respective assignments for grocery day last weekend.”

           “I told you to get toilet paper. I was gonna get the whipped cream.”

           “No, you said YOU were getting the toilet paper, and I should pick up whipped cream.”

           “DID EITHER OF US GET TOILET PAPER?”

           “…I’m thinking no,” Giovanni mused.

           “Okay, emergency store run after this for toilet paper,” I declared. “Resume.”

           Instead of turning the cans on me, Giovanni spun to kick an apple off the counter so that it would hit me in the sternum. I recoiled, but only slightly. “The fuck was that?”

           “That? Oh, THAT was…well, Composer, have you been keeping track of how many hits I’ve landed on you?”

           My eyes widened. “SON OF A BITCH.”

           “THAT’S RIGHT!” Giovanni crowed. “TWELVE! WHICH MEANS WHEN I LET THESE CANS LOOSE ON YOU, IT’S GONNA BE CRITICAL!”

           I let go of the ice cream scoop; it clanged to the floor. “Okay, okay!” I put up that hand in a gesture of surrender. “I give!”

           “…Seriously? But it’s no fun if you – “

           “I am NOT in the mood to get blasted by critical whipped cream, Gio.”

           Giovanni shrugged, not letting go of either can. “All right. Then it stops here.”

           I pouted. “I really am sorry I started it. Can we just…you know…kiss and make up?”

           “Absolutely.”

           I had counted on this. I let him shut his eyes, pucker his lips slightly, lean forward. I advanced.

           And then, screaming “WORTH IT!”, smashed the tub of whipped cream directly at his face.

           The resulting blast of the aerosol whip was like getting hit with the blast of twenty-six cans of aerosol whip – which, really, isn’t that harmful at all. Just a lot messier and with some added momentum; I ended up skidding across the kitchen floor. “Okay!” I laughed. “I really do give in now! I promise!”

           Giovanni was already scooping the cream off his face and shoveling it into his mouth (and this is the part where I want to remind you that as ripe of a picking as this seems for innuendo, neither of our sex-repulsed minds would have it). He then slumped down onto the tile next to me, leaning onto me.

           “Well played, minion,” he said with a grin. “We’ll make a bona fide villain out of you yet.”

           “Bold of you to assume I’m not already there.”

           We actually did kiss then, tasting all the sweeter for being covered in sugar.

#yuletide f/o event #selfship #hoooo boy putting myself out here like this #kinda wanna write more of these? #they'd be tumblr-exclusive though #not for my ao3

[bensboynton]

Good Enough b.h; Part 2

part 1 is in my masterlist: link in my blog description

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of drugs/alcohol, infidelity(PLS DON’T CHEAT ON YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER FOR THE LOVE OF GOD)

feedback would be greatly appreciated:)

Key: Y/BF/N = your boyfriend’s name

A/N: this gets heavy towards the middle and end, but i promise part three will be really fluffy and have a lot more ben in it okay? okay. 

also i should probably mention that your boyfriend is also an extremely successful singer.

“Gwil, you’re needed on set.” Gwilym rolled his eyes playfully, looking over at you. “I’ve just sat down!” you giggled at the man’s exasperated response, lightly tapping his leg with your foot as he stood up to leave.

“Go get em’ tiger.” you murmured as he gave you a thumbs up, flipping his mop of brown curly hair over his shoulder. You laughed and turned your attention back to the book currently laying in your lap.

The PA’s voice had interrupted the extremely interesting conversation you were having with Gwilym; a heated debate over the better type of chocolate. Clearly, dark chocolate was superior, but Gwil was very passionate about milk chocolate. 

You had only been working on the set of the movie for a few days, (you weren’t exactly sure how many, though. Due to the ever-present jet lag and SEVERE lack of sleep, the days were starting to melt together) but you already felt like your cast mates were your second family. You had grown especially close with Gwilym and Joe, who acted like your big brothers.

So far, you had already had one lack-of-sleep-induced mental breakdown, (these happened more often than you’d like to admit) and both Gwilym and Joe were there to comfort you every step of the way. 

You began blocking out the rest of the world as you focused on the story sitting in your lap. It was the original Romeo and Juliet play, one of your favorites. Since minoring in creative writing in college, you had become quite the sucker for Shakespeare.

“Romeo and Juliet, eh?” you heard a deep British voice echo from your left. You spun a piece of your hair around your finger, meeting the forest green eyes of the only other man in the room. “One of my favorites,” he continued, biting into a green apple in his large hand.

“These violent delights have violent ends,” Ben spoke dramatically, “or something like that.”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip as he made his way over to sit down on the couch opposite of you. Ben was in his full Roger Taylor gear, his wig and costume astonishing enough to make even the biggest of Queen fanatics do a double take.

“It’s been my favorite since I did an analysis in college.” you murmured, flipping the page over quickly, beginning to chew on what was left of the nail on your right thumb. 

“What was your major?” Ben inquired, furrowing his brows in curiosity.

“Technically psychology, and I minored in creative writing. But my psychology degree doesn’t really get much use now.” Ben nodded thoughtfully at your response.

You glanced back down to the play, continuing to gnaw at the skin on your thumb.

“Stop that.”

You glanced up at Ben through your thick eyelashes, confusedly cocking an eyebrow at him. 

“Stop what?”

“Biting your nails. I’ve noticed you do that a lot.” He spoke as he lazily leaned back on the green couch.

You quickly placed your hand at your side, sitting on your fingers as you meet the eyes of the crazy good-looking British man. 

Your friendship with Ben was… unnecessarily complicated. He acted strange around you sometimes, and the awkwardness that resulted in some of your conversations was unnatural compared to the camaraderie you shared with the rest of the cast.

“Sorry if that came off as rude or something, I used to bite my nails too.” you smiled up at him, noticing the slight bouncing of his left leg as your eyes drifted back to the page of your book. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to comprehend a single thing. 

You glanced back up at the jittery blonde man. “I feel you. It’s been a bad habit of mine since grade school.”

He hummed in acknowledgment. The quiet buzz of the heater unit in the small waiting room was the only disturbance in the increasingly awkward silence between you and Ben.

“Oh, before I forget,” he exclaimed as he rummaged through his pockets, “I forgot to give this to you yesterday before you left, but you dropped this napkin on set and the lyrics on it kind of looked important.” your heart soared at the sight of your familiar blue ink on the white piece of fabric.

“Oh my god. You found it!” you practically shot off the couch and snatched it from his hand. “Thank you so much, I thought someone had thrown this away. This is the chorus for my next song, I think.”

Without really thinking, you leaned down and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You know, you shouldn’t worry as much about how you’re perceived by me. Or anyone else, really. Just a word of advice.” you spoke as you admired the napkin in your hand. 

You noticed the beaming smile resting on his face, accompanied by a slight flush of pink as you identified the smell of cigarettes and an oddly scented cologne that suited him strangely well.

“It was really no problem. I had a feeling it was important, especially with lyrics as amazing as those,” you blushed as you hastily pushed a few strands of hair behind your ear, “and thank you for the advice. I’ll try to keep it in mind.” 

Ben winked at you playfully, causing you to let out a small chuckle, but your heart was doing backflips in your chest. He just had this effect on you…

There was a small pause as you skimmed over the lyrics on the napkin before you placed it in the small bag you brought with you to set every day. 

“Not that my opinion really has much merit, but I think you’re really talented,” Ben paused, moving a piece of his blonde wig out of his eyes, “not a lot of people can compose something like that on a napkin and have it be solid enough to make a complete record out of it." 

You bit back a big smile as you met his stunningly wide eyes that could blow a breath of fresh air into you anytime you looked at them. His tiny grin was gentle, with sincerity practically bleeding through the edges of his lips.

"That truly means a lot to me, Ben, thank you. Means more than you could ever know, actually.” he lightly scratched the back of his neck, breaking your intense eye contact, “and, not that my opinion has much merit, but I think you’re an amazing drummer.”

He laughed, lightly rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger, reaching to adjust the wrist band that was tightly coiled around his left arm, “I appreciate it, but I’m no Roger Taylor.”

“Woah, hold up there. I never said you were that good.” Ben’s jaw fell slack as he playfully glared at you, his eyes seeming to be searching you for something.

You carefully moved to go sit back down, but before you could even take a step, the door swung open. 

“Ben, Y/N, you’re needed on set now.”

You offered Ben a soft grin as he held the door open for you, walking into the hustle and bustle of the movie set. Today was going to be a long, long, day. 

You had been working on the Bohemian Rhapsody movie for about two weeks at this point. Saying that out loud makes it seem like a lot less time than how it felt. Nevertheless, the glamour of being an actress has most definitely worn off.

The dazzling red carpets and interviews felt like they were eons away, seemingly working their way farther and farther into your future with each passing hour.

Don’t get it confused, you loved acting, you loved your job, but the long days and long nights were starting to mess with your system more than you’d like to admit.

Just last week, you were in the middle of shooting a scene with Rami when you felt lightheaded and fainted for a few seconds. Right there, in front of the entire cast and crew. Definitely not one of proudest moments.

The combination of lack of sleep, all the caffeine to attempt to make up for said lack of sleep, having to memorize your lines, rehearse for the final three shows of your tour, and deal with all the absolutely wonderful elements of being a woman was really starting to wear on your wellbeing. Mentally, and physically.

But, nevertheless, you were playing your dream role in your dream movie about Queen, whom you got to go to work with and talk to every day. There really wasn’t that much for you to be complaining about.

And, for the first time in a really, really long time, you felt completely and totally happy. 

“Y/N, we’re going out to get some drinks. Wanna tag along?” Allen smirked at you, nudging your shoulder as he grabbed a bottle of water before turning to leave. 

“Dumbass question, of course I wanna go.” You spoke, turning to grab your purse on the counter and beginning to follow Allen and the rest of the cast out the door. 

You were about two feet away from the exit, able to feel the cold London air on your legs when someone called your name. You turned around and saw it was one of the PA’s.

“Y/N, you have a visitor. Says his name is Y/BF/N? Should I let him in?” she inquired from across the room. 

You stopped dead in your tracks, all the color quickly leaving your face. He couldn’t really be here, could he? 

“Yeah, let him in,” you said breathlessly, sympathetically looking up at your friends, “could you guys wait here for a few minutes while I deal with this?" 

They all nodded and went to sit back down on the couches and chairs in the little side room. Ben gave you a reassuring smile from across the room, before reaching over and putting a rugby game on the TV. You turned towards the woman at the door.

You walked with the PA who informed you that he was in the room right across the hall. You took a deep breath and stood in front of the maroon colored door.

It wasn’t like him to come for surprise visits. And he knew you hated surprises, so there was definitely an ulterior motive here. Just the thought of that made butterflies erupt in the pits of your stomach as you gathered your courage. You finally knocked on the door twice before letting yourself in.

Seeing him awkwardly standing there was certainly… something. For lack of a better word, he looked like shit. Pure, unadulterated shit. And you weren’t surprised, because he had a bad habit of getting absolutely wasted most nights while he was on tour. 

Whether it was backstage after his show or at some random club or bar near the venue he performed at, he was always under the influence of something. That’s why you never went with him on his tours, because he’d be too drunk or too high to have a conversation with you that didn’t end in a screaming fight. And something about his posture signified that this meeting was about to end in a similar way. 

You now realized how long you had truly been avoiding this. The inevitability of the conversation you two were about to have felt to be swarming around your bodies. You were truly now able to realize how unhealthy this has been for you. How you kept everything that bothered you or made you even slightly upset inside rather than provoke the man you “loved” over something so small.

You two definitely didn’t have the healthiest of relationships, you’ll be the first to admit that. But the idea of having to eventually have to go to weddings alone, go home to an empty apartment and live in constant silence scared the everliving shit out of you. You hated silence, you hated being alone. 

So you had just put up with it.

Sometimes you would think that he gave up on you. He would stop returning your calls and the number of goodnight text messages from him would dwindle, so you’d think maybe he was done with you. Maybe you wouldn’t have to put up with the heartbreak of the severing of your relationship. Maybe the connection would diminish over time until it eventually dissipated into thin air. 

But now here he was, in all his drunken, grimy glory on the set of Bohemian Rhapsody in London, about 6000 miles away from what should’ve been his current tour stop. And you felt like you were going to throw up. 

All the feelings for him you thought you had lost came rushing back with a force so strong it almost knocked you off your feet. You wanted so desperately to run into his arms and greet him with a kiss, but you couldn’t. You had to fight your muscle memory. 

"Hi.” he murmured, his voice slightly hoarse as he shifted his gaze to your shoes. He couldn’t even make eye contact with you.

“Hey,” you whispered back, staying quiet for the fear that a normal sound would shatter the delicate chain that was tying your faltering relationship together.

He turned away from you, walking over to the tiny window in the eerily silent room, pulling out a cigarette and lighter from his black leather jacket. You sighed to yourself. You weren’t allowed to smoke in here but you would be damned if you were going to tell him that, and risk angering him.

You acted… different, around him. It was like he was a damp towel that was thrown on top of you whenever you two were together. You suddenly became a shell, a ghostly hollow of whom you were supposed to be. And you fucking hated that. And you hated him for that.

The silence in the room was so heavy on your shoulders you swore your feet would break through the wooden floor. It was uncomfortable, just like everything about him. He was an uncomfortable person.

“I don’t want to draw this out, because this won’t be pleasant for me or for you.” He broke the silence, speaking louder than before. And just like you feared, it shattered whatever was left.

“My management agency got a courtesy letter two nights ago from TMZ about a story that was breaking tomorrow about me. And I wanted you to hear this from me, not some stupid fucking twitter news highlight.”

The sharp, stunningly cold tone in his voice was so foreign to you. The last time you two were together for longer than three days, his voice had been warm, welcoming, and like a home. He was your home. And now you felt like you were listening to a stranger speak. 

You almost stopped him. You almost barged out of the room and left whatever it was that he was going to say unsaid. He was hesitating, and you could feel how hard he was trying to force the words out of his throat. And that scared you more than anything. He was never the type to shy away from the truth, or what needed to be said. 

That used to be something you admired, something about him you were in love with. He was crazy and wild, completely explicit and transparent. The complete opposite of you. 

And maybe when you went on your first date with him you thought being around someone like him would change someone like you. Maybe you thought he would be able to coax you out of your shell. 

He suddenly looked away from the window, meeting your eyes. Your stomach dropped at his pin-head sized pupils, the harsh color of his blue irises reaching out and slapping you across your face. 

He let out a shaky breath, retrieving a piece of yellow folded paper from his jacket pocket. “You know, I’ve never been good with words, so to be completely honest with you,” he paused, taking a drag from the cigarette perched between his slender fingers, “I have no fucking idea how to say this right now.”

You wanted to comment, to say something, but it was like you suddenly forgot how to speak. You were frozen. He had his imaginary grip around your throat and you couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. These few seconds felt like they were dragging on for an eternity.

“You cheated on me, didn’t you?” you whispered, feeling the familiarity of strain in your throat. 

You weren’t religious, you had never been to a church in your life. But at this moment you would’ve dropped to your knees and prayed to any God that you were wrong. That he hadn’t been unfaithful to you. 

He handed you the piece of paper he had been holding for a few minutes, “I wrote down as many as I could remember. But some of the times I-” he began before you let out a laugh. 

“Because you were too drunk?” you continued. He nodded, letting his head fall to stare at his shoes.

You had run through this scenario in your head before, on a particularly late night when you couldn’t fall asleep. You never thought you’d be actually living it, yet here you are. 

To be honest, you expected to be a tearful mess. But all you felt was pure anger coursing through your veins as you unfolded the paper and glanced at the words. 

Jessica from Calgary, July. Allison and Tiffany from Montreal, June. Megan from Iowa, mid-August. And there were way more on the list that you couldn’t bring yourself to read. You let out a chuckle. You should’ve known. 

“Did you think about me, when you were with them? Did you ever give me a second thought?” you inquired. He looked back up at you like a deer in headlights. 

“Did you ever wake up and see my voicemails, my text messages, and regret it?” He was still speechless, looking at you like you were speaking in some long lost foreign language.

You let out a deep breath of disbelief that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, collapsing down on the upholstered couch, “when did you decide you didn’t love me anymore?" 

"Y/N, I never stopped-”

“Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t sit here and try to make everything better with your cheesy bullshit of how you never stopped loving me, how you still love me even after all we’ve been through. I really don’t want to hear it." 

There was an uncomfortable pause as you felt scalding hot tears well up in your eyes. You tried blinking them away but this just caused them to spill down your cheeks. "I’ve been on two world tours across five continents and I never once thought about betraying you. Betraying us. Betraying what we had. It wasn’t even a question.”

You looked back up at him, your tears dripping off your chin and settling into the hollows of your collar bone. And you suddenly lost the loose leash you had on the emotions running rampant in your gut. 

"I would’ve done literally anything for you. If you asked me to not take the part in this movie, my absolute dream job, I would’ve declined and apologized for being an inconvenience to you.”

“If you asked me to throw myself off a cliff, I would’ve done it in a fucking heartbeat. And you have the nerve to stand here and act like you cheating on me however many times you did is no big deal? Like you didn’t just betray the only person you had left?”

You were yelling now, and to be frank, you didn’t care. You didn’t have the empathy nor mental capacity left to care. You had never experienced a heartbreak so severe it made you nauseous. 

You were confused and so dizzy. You felt like you were about to pass out or throw up the sandwich you had for lunch, but you couldn’t tell which one. You’re weren’t sure if you were dreaming but also not sure if you were even alive. Maybe this was Hell. Maybe you passed away in your sleep last night and you were living in your own, personal Hell.

Because you could deny it all you wanted, but you were still in love with this man. Hell, you’d still die for him. That wouldn’t change. He had you wrapped around his pinky finger and both of you knew it. And that’s why it hurt so bad. Because everything hurts more when it comes from someone you love. 

"I came out here as a fucking courtesy, so you didn’t have to find out about this on the internet. I didn’t have to fly out here, didn’t even have to tell you, but I did. There’s no need to act like a god damn child!” he screamed, angrily opening the window to his right. 

He threw his cigarette butt out the slim opening and slammed it shut, causing you to jump slightly. It sent shivers up and down both of your arms.  

“A courtesy? Oh wow! All for little old me? Well, aren’t you just a fucking saint! You deserve to be knighted by the fucking Queen of England for that, really.”

You took a deep breath, grabbing your hair by the roots before throwing your head back with frustration, “All I ever fucking did was care for you, look after you, and put up with your bullshit excuses and mistreatment and I’m done. I am so, so fucking done." 

You stood up abruptly to get a little closer to his towering height. "Looking at this entire shit show in retrospect, I can’t believe I ever wasted even a moment of my time on you. I’m over it. I’m over you. I’m over us.”

After speaking those words into the quiet atmosphere of the room you were in, you felt your anger evaporate into thin air. “You know, you’re a real piece of shit? I pray to God that the next girl has some standards and goes running for the hills when she gets to know the real you. Because I sure as hell didn’t.”

Suddenly, your tears were back, welling up in your eyes as you looked him over once again, his face a mixture of shock, sadness, and disbelief. 

He chuckled, returning to his spot near the window, mumbling something under his breath. “So, we’re done? That’s it? Just like that, two years out the window?” he huffed out in disbelief.

“Yeah, just like that. Because you’re not supposed to cheat on your significant other. This isn’t an open relationship. This isn’t how this works, genius.” 

He rolls his eyes, walking over to the window yet again as he mumbles something under his breath. "Speak up.” you snarled. He studied you for a moment, an amused expression on his stupidly perfect face.

“I said, you wonder why I would cheat on you, then you go and act like this.”

You were speechless. Your head was pounding so ferociously hard, you didn’t want to believe he had actually just said that to you. You wished you could wake up in a cold sweat in your bed back home in LA and you could turn over and go back to sleep. You just wanted this to be over with.  

“Get out,” you mumbled. Your voice cracked, and noticeably so, and it allowed your sadness to leak out of your words into this already small room that felt like it was getting smaller. 

“What did you just say to me?"You could hear the aggression practically gushing out of his mouth, and you didn’t want to stick around to find out what happens next.

"I said,” you spoke, taking a pause to soak the absolute hatred form the air into your skin, “get. out.”

“So you’re really going to tell me to leave? After a 12-hour flight?” he let out an exasperated sigh, “God, you’re such a fucking bitch.”

You’re not quite sure what, but something snapped deep inside you, like a gate opened and all the immature anger you had been trying to contain escaped like air escaping a popped balloon.

“Get the fuck out and leave me and my friends alone! I hate you. I fucking hate you!” your voice was hoarse, and every word leaving your throat was like a punch to your stomach. “I never want to see you again. Just leave, please. Leave me alone.” you cried out, clutching your arms as close to your sides as humanly possible. 

He stomped past you and slammed the door behind him, and you swore the ripped it off it’s hinges. And it was definitely enough to make you shatter into a thousand little pieces.

He was finally gone.

You managed to make your way to the wall, resting your shoulder againsst it handle before turning around and slowly sinking down to the ground. You covered your mouth with your hands, letting the tears freely slip down your fiery red cheeks.

You don’t know exactly how long you sat there, but it was definitely a long time. By the time you recovered, the sky outside had darkened and the moon was becoming ever more present in the evening sky. 

You made your way over to grab your phone from its spot on the table. You pulled up the camera app and looked at yourself. Your eyes were puffy and swollen, and your nose was raw from wiping it so many times. Frankly, you were a mess. You attempted to calm yourself down, trying to take deep breaths.

After finally returning back to Earth, you grabbed your bag and walked out of the room and across the hallway where your group of friends was still waiting. You briskly walked across the room, pretending that nothing had happened. 

Your cheeks and eyes were red, but you didn’t wanna give away the fact that you had been crying, so you turned to the table of snacks and started tidying it up, moving your hair in your face. 

"So sorry that took so long guys. We can head out now if you’d like.” There was no response.

“If you guys are okay with it, do you think we could stop at McDonald’s on the way there? I could really use a milkshake.” Silence. You ignored the quiet in a room that would normally be filled to the absolute brim with sound. 

“Y/N…” you heard the uncertainty in Gwilym’s voice as your name rolled off his tongue. 

“Do British McDonald’s even have milkshakes?” you inquired, taking a shaky breath, “I’ve just realized I’ve never been to a McDonald’s here. Personally I’d prefer chocolate but vanilla would do the job.” Your voice seemed to shrink until you were speaking at the volume of a whisper. 

You just kept your hands moving, trying to distract yourself from the tears welling up in your eyes yet again. There was still silence other than you organizing the snacks and rummaging through your purse. 

Suddenly, you felt a large, warm hand on your wrist. You slightly turned your head to the side to see Ben, his brows furrowed together and a look of genuine distress powdered across his normally light and carefree eyes. And that’s what caused you to hit your breaking point.

You slammed your face into his chest, letting your fatally weak sobs echo in the silent room. His arms were around you in a second, supporting most of your weight due to your knees suddenly giving out. 

Your body was shaking with your echoing cries, your sobs so intense they were comparable to dry heaves.

Rami’s voice was heard behind you, quiet and still. “I don’t think we’re going out tonight.” This caused you to rip yourself out of Ben’s iron-tight grasp.

“Please don’t let me and my personal problems put a damper on your fun night out. Go and enjoy yourself,” you wiped a few tears from your eyes, “I’ll be fine, I promise.” you heard Joe let out an exasperated sigh from the couch, drawing your attention to him.

“No, you’re not fine. And you probably won’t be for the immediate future. And that’s completely okay because you have us,” he took a deep breath, looking you up and down slowly. You could see a flash of pain in his deep brown eyes.

“I’m really very sorry that we eavesdropped on you, but we can’t change the fact that we heard almost everything that happened in there and I know that you’re not okay right now,” he spoke quietly, the usual tinge of humor in his voice gone without a trace, “and I may not have known you for a year or even a month yet, but I do know that no one likes to be alone when they’re hurt. So we’re staying.”

Being truthful, you could’ve collapsed right then and there at the sound of someone having your back as unquestionably as Joe did. It was such a relief, tears began leaking out of your eyes again. Ben pulled you into another one of his comfortingly tight hugs and led you over to the couch, where he sat you down between himself and Joe.

Looking up to momentarily meet Ben’s eyes, he gave you a sad grin. Not having the energy left in your bones to return it, you slouched down and plopped your head on his muscular shoulder.

You felt his body stiffen slightly beneath you, but at this point, you didn’t care. You just wanted to go to sleep for a really, really long time. Part of you didn’t want to have to deal with this absolute disaster. 

You were tired. And tired of being tired. And tired of being used and thrown around and treated like you were nothing but a toy. You wanted to stand up and shout how you weren’t something to butter up and taste when others got bored, you wanted to scream and cry and break things and punch holes in the wall. But your body was so fragile at the moment, everyone around you thought the smallest touch might cause you to break. 

Yet somehow, even after the most violent break up of your life, you had never felt so accepted and genuinely cared for in your entire life. Ben’s arm was now wrapped around your fatigued body, your head still on his shoulder, the TV in the dressing room was on, and you were surrounded by your new family. Strangely, you had never felt more wanted in all of your years of existence.

This feeling of comfort was just enough to lull you to sleep in the middle of the evening, sitting on an uncomfortable couch, slouched over and your neck already beginning to stiffen. 

But somehow, through all of this, you managed to feel one overwhelming  thing for the first time in your life; inner peace. 

taglist: @pastel-world14 @benhardyseyesjj

#ben hardy #ben hardy headcanon #ben hardy fic #ben hardy x reader #ben #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #lucy boynton #rami malek #gwilym lee #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fanfiction #borhap boys #borhap cast #queen #joe mazzello #allen leech #bohemian rapsody movie

[not-all-that-chic]

A Summer With You

Yoongi x Reader [Hybrid!AU]

“ Nearing my graduation, the stress of being alone when the time comes forces me to make a decision: befriending a hybrid. ”

trans. | I want this one to last forever.

genre | Angst, Fluff

wordcount | 10.8k

warnings | language, sexual themes, implied rape, abuse, character death

rec. track | ♫ ♩

The phone rang a few times. I chuckle at my friend; she never picks up. Finally, she answers and she breaths into the line.

"Did you run to the phone again?"

"Okay. Let me explain."

I laugh.

"So, I was jamming to my ringtone hella hard. Cause you know how Skyway is my favorite song."

"It is. Uh-huh."

"So then I realized, wait, that's my phone ringing! So I ran— but I picked up!"

"It's okay," I sigh into the phone. Typical of her. "I actually wanted to ask where you got Peanut from."

"My dog?"

"Yeah, your dog Peanut."

"It's on the Gangju and Huanghe intersection. It's a really nice pet store-"

And I wince.

"—Okay I know you hate pet stores, but I'm just saying that's where I got Peanut from. My dad came and bought him for me as a birthday gift."

"I wanted to go to a shelter to get a pet. Not a pet store."

"I totally understand that! But recently, with all the hybrids being thrown into shelters, full-blown animals are getting less frequent in shelters."

"That's horrible. Both the fact they're euthanizing innocent animals for space and the fact they have humanoids in animal shelters." I frown.

Ever since scientists discovered a way to cross humans and animals, hybrid pets have become the norm. And the problem with that is that although they don't have the intelligence of humans, they shouldn't be treated so horribly.

On top of that, over half of the hybrids are born with defects and live about as long as their animal counterparts. It's disgusting. I would go as far as to say that they shouldn't exist, for their own sake.

"I think you should get a pet. You've been stressed right?"

"Yeah. I'm close to graduating and I'm really panicking over my thesis."

"Maybe you should just get a boyfriend. Bet that would help."

I blush.

"Okayyyy. Bye." I hold the phone in front of my face.

"Bye~"

After hanging up, I look around my decorated and furnished apartment, but then realize despite its fullness, it feels empty. Maybe I should check out that pet store she talked about. With that in mind, I grab my keys, lock the door and go to my car.

As I drive to the store, I ponder. Who exactly gave scientists the bright idea to create hybrids? Humans and animals have evolved differently, so why combine them? The hybrids are entirely dependent on humans, like dogs or cats, but much more pricey and difficult to care for.

Not to mention how fetishized they are in the media or fiction. Why on Earth would someone want to have sex with a hybrid? It's just...unethical.

And that's not even the worst of it.

Before I know it, I've arrived at the store. The Flower Pot. A name much more fitting for a floral shop than a pet store.

I'm greeted at the entrance: "Welcome to the Flower Pot! Where friendship grows!" A boy with a boxy grin practically screams at me.

I suppose that's where they get the name. Not resisting my curiosity, I explore the well kept and cute store. The floors have a cute, sparkly confetti pattern and each section is labeled with a scripted, pink sign. It's cute. I find myself smiling at the fish tanks with soft pink sand beds.

I tap a glass with a bright yellow fish. It swims away, kicking up little bubbles. In another tank, there's a small, lime-green salamander.

"Need some help?" I jump at the voice. When I turn around, I'm greeted by a tall and kind looking boy. His name tag reads 'Jungkook'. He's smiling, looking like a bunny himself.

"Oh. I'm looking for a companion."

"Okay! Follow me then please!" He walks quickly and I'm almost left behind. I speed past a few cat cages until we reach the back of the store. There are at least ten glass containers lining the walls.

All of which holding hybrids. I nearly vomit. I feel sick just watching them. Jungkook motions me forward. One of the hybrids jumps forward, his cute, black kitty ears standing up.

"Hello! I'm Jimin!" Surprisingly, he talks! Why are such intelligent...creatures being held captive in enclosed spaces?!

"I'm sorry, Jungkook, but I'm not interested in a hybrid."

"What?" He asks, eyes wide. "Why not?"

"I don't think a hybrid should be enclosed in a space barely big enough to fit a dog. I also think it's wrong to have them as pets. It's inhumane." He smiles.

"I completely agree, but my friend told me something once. Uhhh," he pauses, trying to remember.

"Oh right! "If you take one and treat it how it should be, then that's one less hybrid being treated badly." Or something like that." He rubs his neck and chuckles.

That's an incredible point. If everyone were to take that initiative, maybe hybrids could begin to live well. Or at least better than they are currently.

"Jungkook!"

"Oh! Sorry. Taehyung is calling me. I'll be right back, okay, Miss?" He doesn't wait for me to respond as he runs to the front of the store.

As soon as I return my attention back to the wall, Jimin is smiling at me patiently.

"Your name is Jimin, right?"

"Yes. You're really pretty and smart. Can you please take me home?" His eyes are wide and sparkly. That's too cute. And really shocking. Something slams against the glass on the container to Jimin's left.

"No! Take me home! Please please please please please-" I walk in front of the container, and the dog hybrid's tail wags wildly. His face and smile instantly brighten.

"Hello. What's-"

"I'm Hoseok! It's so nice to meet you! You're so nice! And your hands look soft! Can I touch your hand please?!" His energy catches me by surprise, but I smile and reach a hand forward into one of the little holes in front of him.

The Golden Retriever hybrid eagerly shoves his head under my hand. I giggle at his reaction.

"Wow wow wow! I'm right! Please take me home! I hate being in this box! I wanna run around and lay down on your bed so you can pet me some more—PLEEEAASEEE?!"

The reality hits me once again. These hybrids are captive. They want to leave so badly. I step back and remove my hand. Hoseok whines, but eventually just sits down. They're probably used to being rejected.

On Hoseok's left is an empty box. Beside Jimin there is a sleeping dog hybrid of a larger breed. German Shepard by the looks of it. For the most part, the containers are empty. I assume it's because people have already adopted them. To a good home, I hope.

A furry tail at the very end catches my attention. I walk to it and notice this container is far away from the others. Inside, the hybrid flinches upon seeing me and backs deeper into the corner.

His build is significantly smaller than the others. He's as skinny as a stick. Now I see his tail is patchy and missing fur in some areas, where the skin looks more like a human's skin than an animal's skin. The ears are huge— almost as big as his head — and split at the tip. While the inside of the ears is furless and an angry red color. And his eyes are black and beady, to the point I can't see the pupil.

A mutated hybrid, no doubt. He looks frail and he knows it. I hold back my angry tears and kneel down, to appear less scary.

"Hi," I tell him my name and make my voice as small as possible. He watches me, silent and cautious.

"Hi," he responds. The smile on my face is warm and I'm sure he can feel it.

"What's your name?"

"...Yoongi."

"It's nice to meet you, Yoongi." His body relaxes and he uncurls his legs. The clothing on his body are clean, but they look old. And he doesn't have shoes on.

I scoot closer to him and reach my hand out. He quickly gets defensive, eyes wide, as his back tries to swallow the wall.

"I promise I won't hurt you, Yoongi." He blinks multiple times and furrows his brows.

Finally, he creeps forward, just enough for me to brush the tip of my fingers against his ears. They're the softest thing I've ever touched. He shivers and his eyes are wide in wonder. Despite his weird appearance and mutated genes, he's cute. Someone like Yoongi doesn't belong here. None of these hybrids do.

"Can I ask what you are?"

"...Chinchilla." My mouth gapes in shock. I've never heard of a Chinchilla hybrid. He notices my expression. "Is that...bad?"

"No!" He flinches at my pitch and I quickly apologize. "It's not bad at all. You're really special." His eyes take me in as if I'm the greatest thing to exist. I blush. He raises his hand toward the glass, but before he does—

—Yoongi backs away from my hand.

"Find any you want to adopt?" Jungkook comes running back, his Timberland's stomping with each step. Once I look back to Yoongi, he's back to his corner, as if nothing happened.

"I-"

"Yoongi? Did you like Yoongi?" The employee sounds like he's going to burst. I look back to Yoongi. His eyes have changed as we share eye contact.

"Yes."

"W-wow! That's great! Did you hear that Yoongi?! Someone's taking you home!"

"Why do you sound so excited?" His expression changes as he motions me away from Yoongi's cage.

He whispers, "Yoongi has been here for a very long time."

"How long?" Jungkook's sad smile tells me everything.

"Since he's a mutated and frail hybrid, no one has wanted to adopt him. He's very quiet, too."

It makes tears gather in my eyes. People are so cruel. Yoongi may have some defects, but he's never had contact with anyone outside of that cage. His shyness is a result of his lack of interaction. How could he possibly be at fault?!

"What about the other hybrids?"

"NamJoon is that sleeping hybrid-" he points to the dark-haired dog hybrid "-Is scheduled for an adoption tomorrow."

"How long has he been here?"

"About a month. It takes longer for hybrids to get adopted. As for Hobi and Jimin, they've been here for two weeks. But they're so friendly, they could be adopted any time soon."

Frowning, I look back to Yoongi, whose eyes haven't left mine. I don't understand animals— or even humans —much, but I can tell Yoongi doesn't want to be here anymore.

"Can I adopt him?"

"Yoongi? Of course! He's $1,000." My jaw drops at the price.

"What?"

"That's extremely cheap for a hybrid. Most average hybrids go for around $5,000. The rare ones anywhere from $10,000 and up."

"Is it because he's mutated?" Jungkook looks melancholic when he nods.

"He's also very old for a Chinchilla. After all, hybrids take the lifespans of the animal." Clenching my teeth, I grip my shirt angrily.

"I'm a college student. I can't afford that..."

"...It's okay. Don't feel bad. You can come to visit him anytime. Just... don't tell my boss I let you, okay? She would have my ass." After he finishes whispering, he goes over to Jimin's cage and pets the cat hybrid.

I sigh and stuff my hands in my pockets. I'm so sorry Yoongi. Checking the time, I realize it's time for me to go study. Giving Yoongi one last look, I wave.

He jumps— cute —and waves back.

"I'll be back, Yoongi. I promise."

My day consisted of boring lectures and an empty evening shift. Time seemed to have passed at a snail's pace. I— for some reason beyond my own consciousness —was anxious to see Yoongi again. Maybe I pitied him, for having lived so long in those glass containers. Alone. Never played with. And in his final years of life. I can't be certain the other hybrids were adopted into good families.

But something is better than nothing.

I grip the steering wheel tightly and sigh. Yoongi was not ugly. He was cheap. Maybe soft-spoken, but he is bound to make someone happy.

My feet tap on the wet concrete. The door jingles from the rusted bells above. The Flower Pot. Sad in its name, as if hiding the fact it kept hybrids. At the counter was Taehyung again.

"Oh! Welcome back! Are you here to see Yoongi?"

"Yes." His face softens.

"That's so nice of you. What's your name?" I tell him my name and smile.

"I'm Taehyung, but you could just read my name tag to find that out. Thanks for coming back. You're welcome here any time." Nodding, I stuff my keys into my pocket and walk to the back where the hybrids are.

Jimin is gone. Did someone adopt him? Hoseok greets me happily, letting out a bark-like sound.

"Oh oh oh oh! You're back! I'm so happy! Welcome back! Can you pet me?! Please? I missed you!" It's fascinating how animal-like hybrids are. But so much more intelligent.

"Sure, Hoseok." I pet his soft hair and his leg hits the wall.

"I'm okay! I do that by accident. Sorry."

"It's okay. And can I ask you something?"

"Of course, but please keep petting me!" He closes his eyes, his huge tail thumping against the wall and his leg shaking.

"What happened to Jimin?" His tail falters and his eyes open, reflecting something sad.

"He got adopted yesterday..."

"What's wrong?" I ask, sympathetic. Seeing this bright pup so upset squeezes something inside me. His ears flatten on his head.

"The man that adopted him kept pulling on his collar. And his d-daughter..." tears prickle his eyes.

"Shh, it's okay. You don't have to tell me anything." I gently run my fingers through his hair. He shakes his head and leans toward my hand.

"N-no. I can do it. His daughter, she was grabbing him."

"How so?"

"Grabbing his...pee pee." I feel bile in my throat.

"I'm sorry..."

"It's not your fault. Jimin... he was so sad. I don't want him to be used like a... sex doll." Before I know it, a tear trickles down my cheek.

"I wish I could have done something." Hoseok smiles up at me with hope.

"I know you would have. I can tell." Hoseok touches his chest. "You have a big heart."

Choking on a sob, I lean my head against the glass. Hoseok does the same.

"I wish it could be better. Hybrids are people too. You don't deserve this..." Hoseok starts making a strange rumbling noise. Not a purr, but like a soft growl. It's not comforting, but it's his effort that counts.

"Bonding with Hobi, huh?" I jump and turn around. Jungkook. Embarrassed, I stand up and look anywhere except him. "Hey! No need to be shy. Me and Tae talk to them, too."

"Oh. That's good of you guys."

"I'm really really happy you came back to see Yoongi. And Hobi, too, now since Jimin and NamJoon are gone." When I look back at the containers, only Hobi and Yoongi are left. The latter of which I hadn't noticed. But he's watching me, awe written all over his face, hands pressed against the glass.

It's as if he couldn't believe I would come back.

"I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Where do you guys find the hybrids?" Jungkook brings his finger to his chin in thought.

"I'm not sure. Only my boss knows that. But by the end of the month, these containers are occupied again. Well, except the hybrids that aren't adopted." Frowning, I think back to Yoongi.

"How long has Yoongi been here, exactly?"

"Sorry. Confidential. My boss tells me I can't tell the customers Yoongi's age." He rubs his neck with an awkward smile.

I shift my weight on my leg and cross my arms. This boss of his must be a horrible person.

"Why?"

"It makes him more appealing to buy, not that it has ever worked. When I tell you Yoongi has been here a long time, I mean a long time. You can't imagine." Tears prick at the corner of my eyes. There's no way no one has never shown interest in Yoongi. It's unfathomable. I look back at the hybrid who is sitting there fiddling with some hairs on his tail— cute.

"Sorry. I just-"

"It's okay. It's okay. I was like that, too, when I got hired." He sighs and turns around. "Listen, I gotta go restock the shelves. You have a good night."

"Thank you. You, too." When he leaves, I turn toward Yoongi. His eyes widen when I look at him. Smiling, I go to sit in front of his container. He curls into himself, making himself smaller.

"Hi, Yoongi."

"Hi..." I come closer to the glass and he looks down.

"How are you?"

He blinks, mouth opening and closing before giving me a simple, "Okay."

"Really? Tell me about your day?" He vigorously shakes his head and brushes his tail. "No? How about I'll tell you about mine, then you tell me about yours?" Yoongi considers it a while and eventually nods.

"I had a really boring day. I sat in a class all day and then my work was empty. There weren't any customers."

"Was it...big?" His question caught me off guard.

"The class?" He nods. "Yeah! It's like the size of five of this store."

His mouth opens wide, a cute sound of awe escaping. It makes me smile.

When I first met Yoongi, I thought he would be more aggressive, but he's so gentle and adorable.

"So what about you, Yoongi?" He jumps, probably still thinking about how big the class was.

"Me?"

"Yeah. Tell me about your day."

The hybrid looks down. Something unintelligible is said under his breath. If my ears don't deceive me, he just whispered, "It's not important..."

"Of course it's important. Your day was really important. I think it's important." He grips his tail again.

"I slept."

"What did you dream about?" Yoongi whips his head up toward me. His eyes blow out and suddenly he squirms. I see his Adam's apple bob as he places his hand on the glass. I put mine on the glass above his hand.

"Oh. Ah... I can't tell you."

"Why not?" I put my hands on my hips playfully. He leans against the glass.

"C-can you..." his words trail off shyly.

"Hm?"

He shifts around and quickly blurts, "Can you pet me like you pet Hoseok?" It takes me a moment to understand what he's asking, but when I do, I smile softly.

"Yoongi, you're really cute." And unexpectedly, he sputters in embarrassment.

"W-why?" Once I pet his head, he starts shaking.

"Because you're so sweet and well-mannered. And physically, you're cute." He leans into my hand further and finally, I can really feel the softness of his hair and ears. Chinchillas really are soft. His face is practically pressed against the glass. And his whole body seems to react to my touch. It's fascinating to watch him slowly warm up to me.

My watch ruins the moment as it beeps loudly. Yoongi jumps away with a small squeak— so darn cute —as I look down. I frown when I realize it's time for me to leave.

"Sorry, Yoongi. I have to leave." As I begin standing up, his hand reaches out of the hole to grab my sleeve. But I suppose it was a thing of the moment since he retracted it as soon as it came. Judging by his uncertain expression, I know what is worrying him.

"I promise I'll be back again tomorrow," I say as I rub behind his ears. This time a little smile appears on his face.

The next day when I return, it's a bit earlier in the day since I would be working late night. I skipped my free period to come and spend a while with Yoongi.

When I arrive, Jungkook is at the counter instead of Taehyung. He smiles and waves.

"Welcome! You're here at a different time today." Leaning against the counter, he places his head on his palms.

"Yeah. I work late today. I didn't want to miss seeing the hybrids though." Jungkook stands up straight.

"Oh! I think Tae is in the back with a customer. I think Hoseok might get adopted."

"Okay. Thanks, Jungkook." At what he said, I don't know if I should be happy or worried. Who knows who will adopt Hoseok.

When I reach the back of the store, there's a thin, gangly looking man in a pinstripe suit. His beard is patchy and his eyes are thin, bags underneath. Hoseok is outside of his cage, a leash around his neck. Once I get over his height, I notice the sad look in his eyes. His whole body seems to sag.

"-Here are the papers, sir." Taehyung hands the man a folder as the man frowns.

"Why this mutt got so many papers?" The man's Chicago accent is thick as he tugs on Hoseok's leash. The Golden Retriever hybrid flinches and comes down. I step forward more. Gosh, I want to stab this man.

"It's policy when adopting a hybrid to have all their information. They are part human." Taehyung's voice is tight, although his expression betrays nothing.

"Human? This mutt's about as smart as an acorn!" The man laughs.

"Actually, dog hybrids are among the smartest, especially a Golden Retriever like Hoseok-"

"This thing ain't good for nothing except sex and killing. That's why they were created, kid. Don't be giving me none of that pretty shit." Hoseok whimpers at his words. The man pulls on Hoseok's leash harshly, making the poor pup cough and bend over. Taehyung sighs and clenches his fist.

I see red and can't bear to watch a second longer. Stomping over to the man, he sees my approach.

"What you-" I sock him in the eye and hit his pressure point. He falls to the ground. Heaving, my lips pulled in a snarl, I bend over my knees. My anger made me breathless. How can this man be so stupid and heartless and just horrible to treat a kind hybrid like Hoseok like that?! Hybrids should have never been created, to avoid suffering like this. I can't recall a hybrid ever being treated well.

"Thank you," Taehyung tells me once I've calmed down. I'm shocked.

"What?"

Hoseok jumps me, whimpering and whining and tears staining my shirt.

"I would have done that myself, but my boss would have fired me. I hate people like that."

"Why are you and Jungkook working here if you know what goes on?" I ask, outraged. Hobi's buries his head into my shirt.

"I trust you, so I'll let you in on a secret."

"Okay?"

"We've actually been freeing hybrids secretly. You remember how I told you about NamJoon?" I nod. "Me and Jungkook and a few other friends have been combining money to buy the hybrids and release them to hybrid sanctuaries."

My mouth is agape. So is this store... is a front? No way. They can't afford to release every hybrid. And Hoseok was just about to get purchased.

"What about the hybrids that don't get freed?"

"Well..." he smiles sadly, regret swimming in his eyes. "We can't save them all."

"I see..."

"That's why I'm glad you knocked out that guy. Hoseok can stay longer and that buys us time." Upon hearing his name, Hoseok parts from me and asks me to take his leash off.

"What about Yoongi?" The words pour out like vomit: uncontrolled and with a bitter taste.

"The owner...keeps him." My mouth is agape in horror. I can't stop myself from dry heaving. Why is there something so horrible going on behind the scenes? Where does this person get the hybrids? Do they abuse the others?

"The only reason we told you the price is that we thought you might actually take him. People don't even glance his way anymo-"

"What does your boss do with him?!" Taehyung shushes me to keep my voice down.

"I don't know. But I've stayed overnight a few times. I can hear things." I can't believe my friend bought a dog from this store. It makes my stomach lurch at the thought.

“What kind of things?”

“...Moaning-” Taehyung winces as soon as he says it. I cover my mouth in shock and disgust. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. That’s so horrible.”

"Every time I see Yoongi in that thing pressed against that corner, I feel so sorry. I feel sorry for his existence." Hoseok notices my distress and envelops me in a hug, rocking me back and forth.

"I won't stop visiting. I'll save up money. I want to take Yoongi away from here," I tell Taehyung with determination.

"Please do. I'm sure Yoongi would be so happy to hear that." Hoseok yawns and Taehyung chuckles.

"Wanna know something? He stares at the door every time that bell jingles. Yoongi."

"Really? I'm glad he's so fond of me." I grin and go to sit in front of Yoongi's cage. He comes up to me quickly and leans his head on the glass. Taehyung tells Hoseok to get back into his container and the hybrid falls asleep as soon as his head hits the blanket. He leaves Yoongi and me alone.

"Yoongi." He smiles. Just smiles. Can hearing his name make him that happy?

"Hi." He sounds less shy today. "You know what I dreamt about?" It visibly shocks me to hear him initiating the conversation.

"Sorry, sir. You probably were drunk."

"Damn. Can't remember anything."

"Shall I escort you to the door?"

"Yeah whatever."

"What did you dream about?"

"...You." His face is buried deep into his hands and I find myself blushing. That was...cute. For lack of better words.

"What about me?" I press him. He shakes his head, shy again. It probably already took so much for him to say that. "What if I say please?"

"Maybe..."

"Fine. Yoongi, will you please tell me what your dream about me was about?" Reaching toward his ears, I pet the soft, but slightly mangled appendages. Despite his mutations— no, because of his mutations —I find him so beautiful.

"I dreamt that I was holding your hand..." It makes my heart feel so weak. My whole body is warm and happy at hearing it.

"Do you want to hold my hand?" He looks back at me as his beady eyes search mine.

"...Can I?" His question is so innocent.

"Of course!" I stop petting him and hold my hand out. And for a while, Yoongi stares at it, as if he has never seen a hand before. As if my hand is sculpted by God himself. For Yoongi, it might just be that way.

Finally, his fingers brush mine and I feel my whole body alight. It was strange. His hand awkwardly wraps around mine. I laugh. He looks at me in confusion, eyebrows furrowed.

"Did I...do it right?"

"Mm. Sort of. Like this-" I interlace my fingers with his, feeling his digits slide with mine perfectly. His hands are warm and sweaty, a product of his high body temperature and nervousness.

He looks at our hands and moves them around, awestruck. Smiling, I come closer to be more comfortable. Yoongi closes his eyes and pets his tail with his free hand. A soft smile forms on his lips.

"I like it."

"Me, too." We sit in silence as he eventually leans against the glass. This makes me so happy. I've had so many friends, boyfriends, pets and yet none make me feel quite like this. So utterly complete. I want to know Yoongi more, but for now, this is enough.

"Thank you." Laughing, I watch the smile on his face transform into a gum-filled grin. He looks content.

"For what?"

"Coming to see me." I lean against the glass and he does the same.

A whole week passes. My semester finals had me staying up night after night and I didn't even have time in the day to eat. Day in and day out: studying. But I couldn't contain my joy— and guilt for not being able to see the hybrids —once I heard those familiar rusty bells jingle.

"Woah. You look worse for wear." Languidly, I turn to Taehyung at the counter.

"Thanks. Finals have not been gentle on me."

"I'm sure seeing Yoongi and Hoseok will brighten you up. I heard that animals and hybrids can reduce stress."

I yawn and send him a lazy thumbs up. He laughs.

"He missed you!" He yells at me once I'm past the entrance. It puts a smile on my face. I missed Yoongi, too. How has he been without me here to talk to him? Despite the guilt, I couldn't put aside my health and future for Yoongi. But now I was wholeheartedly his.

"Hi hi hi hi!" Something big and warm tackles me. And licks my neck? I wiggle in discomfort at being attacked. The person latched onto me eventually removes himself. I'm greeted by a beautiful heart-shaped smile.

"Hey, Hoseok," I say as I pinch his cheek. The hybrid gets off quickly and runs around excitedly.

"Oh boy! We should play! Let's play!" He runs somewhere in the store, effectively leaving my sight. My eyes drift and I see Yoongi on the floor, legs criss-cross and with a bowl of soup on his lap. When we lock eyes, he jumps and looks away.

Was he...mad at me?

I finally hear Jungkook chuckle. He was probably hearing the commotion.

"Nice to see you back. You came at a good time."

"Yeah. I was about to ask."

"For about thirty minutes three times a day, we take the hybrids out to eat and play-"

"Kookie, can I please use this ball?!" Hoseok rams into Jungkook. The employee laughs but shakes his head.

"Sorry, Hobi. You know I can't let you play with merchandise." And even as Hoseok whines, Jungkook stays strong. The Golden Retriever pouts and sits down to chow down on his food, making a huge mess. I laugh.

"How have they been?"

"Hoseok missed you a little, but fine. Yoongi, though, he asked for you every day."

"Be quiet!" Said boy protests, his cheeks big and lips pressed into a pout.

I walk over to him and grab his empty hand. He gasps and looks our hands.

"Sorry I didn't visit. I was really busy. I missed you, too."

His face softens and he smiles, but he decides to be stubborn as he looks away from me.

"Prove it."

"I will." With that, I gently bring him into my arms and press his head to my shoulder, treating him like fragile glass. He tenses up and I see his fists clench. I shush him to make him calm down.

His body feels warm and soft like a blanket. I pet his head and play with the hair around his neck.

He squeaks. I giggle. Eventually, he returns the hug and nuzzles into my shoulder, shaking and squeaking. We relax as I hum softly near his ear.

"Wow. I knew Chinchillas could squeak and shake, but I've never seen Yoongi do it. He wayyyy likes you," Jungkook explains as he begins picking up the food dishes.

Yoongi— for such a small hybrid —is still strong, since his iron grip doesn't want to let go.

"Come on, Yoongi. It's time for you to get back in your container-" I hear something gets knocked over. "-You, too, Hoseok!"

"Nooooo. I'm not tired yet!" Hoseok jumps up and down like a spoiled kid.

Patting Yoongi's back, he finally let's go. We both stand up. Yoongi looks so small and frail curled inside his cage, but he's still taller than me.

Jungkook unlocks the boys' containers and he practically forces Hoseok inside. Before going to crawl into his container, Yoongi turns around and smiles at me. He places on my head.

"You're small."

.

.

.

Was that him playing around with me? For some reason, it sends a flutter in my stomach and straight to my soul.

"You're not that tall, either!" Yoongi grins and hugs me again, placing his chin on my head.

He let's go and says, "It's okay. I like it." For once, it's me blushing furiously and not him. Crawling into his own, Jungkook comes to lock it, but Yoongi puts his hand up to stop him. Reaching his hand out to me, I interlace my fingers with his.

"Come back. Please." And as commanding as it sounds, it's accompanied by a shy smile and a Yoongi blush.

"Of course. I really promise to come every day from now on, okay?"

"Okay." He sits against the wall as Jungkook finally locks him up.

His gummy smile is on his face again, I send him my own. Shyly, he asks, "...Pinky promise?"

Giggling, I reach through the hole and interlace my pinky with his.

And at that moment, I made a decision. I would save up and buy Yoongi. Somehow I would save up those $1,000.

"Anatomy is canceled for the day. You're all about to graduate. Enjoy some freedom. I have to go somewhere." The whole auditorium erupts in cheers. People quickly disperse and those that don't, talk to their friends.

"Hey," my friend grabs my attention. "Let's get outta here?"

"Alright." We grab our bags and walk down the steps and out of the door. The hallways are mostly vacant. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about the pet shop."

"Oh yeah! I've been so busy I forgot to ask."

I rub my forehead. How typical of her. Jennie is either ditsy or cold, there is no in between.

"I actually didn't adopt anything."

"What? Why not?"

"To be honest, the moment I got there, this guy led me to the hybrid cages." When I finish saying this, Jennie looks sad.

We make it outside to the park near the labs.

"Hybrids are so cool and cute, but have you heard the news?" We settle down on a bench.

"What?"

"Since hybrid anatomy is so close to humans, they've been experimenting on them. And the government for some reason is totally okay with it."

"It's sad, but at this point, what can we do." I shake my head.

"Sorry for interrupting. What were you saying?"

I cross my arms and start, "When I went, I saw a mutated hybrid. He's been there for so long that the employees don't even want to tell me."

"Aww. Poor guy."

"Yeah. I was really considering buying him, but even with all those issues he's still $1,000." Jennie frowns and leans her head on my shoulder.

"Hybrids shouldn't be bought and sold. That's so...wrong!" Nodding, I sigh.

"About a week ago, I've started taking extra shifts. I want to get him out of there."

"Seriously?!" Jennie gets off my shoulder and watches me. I lock eyes with her and furrow my brows. "Holy shit! You're serious!"

"Yes," I whisper, as I smile at the thought of the hybrid I met a month ago. He's really so sweet, although he has some sassy moments. And of course, he's always so excited to see me. Yoongi is also handsome, a great bonus. I've grown to care for him beyond an owner and pet— not that it was ever like that anyway.

"Hey. What's with that face?" Jennie pokes my side with a dumb grin. "You looooveee him?"

"...I actually haven't thought about that. Maybe."

"Wait what?! I was joking! But if you do, then go for it. Hybrid and human relationships are..."

"Well, I hope in the future, it will be accepted." Jennie goes back to her side.

Silence passes over us.

If I can adopt Yoongi, will I be able to support both of us? What does he eat? How does he sleep? Bathe? What does he like? Can he work?

Is he interested in me how I'm interested in him?

"What's his name? And what is he? Like, hybrid."

"Yoongi. And he's Chinchilla." She squeals in my ear when she hears that.

"Cute! And soft. But don't they live for like five years?"

The one thing I didn't want to think about. The thing I keep pushing to the back of my mind. If Yoongi is old and Chinchillas only live for ten years, then how long would I have with him? Even if he was young, ten years is nothing for a human. A distressed expression appears on my face.

"Sorry for asking about it. It's probably not something you want to think about."

"Don't worry about it. I already knew; I was just in denial."

"Hey! Don't look so glum! Enjoy Yoongi a lot and don't worry too much, okay?"

"Alright, Jennie. I will," I say to pacify her as I force a smile to my lips.

But now, I can't help worrying.

Jingle. The bells sound really loud. When I look up, they're not rusty. I guess they bought some new ones.

"Good morning! You're here bright and early! I think Yoongi's eating breakfast," Taehyung tells me. I smile and go up to the counter.

"I actually am saving up to buy him. I'm really close!"

"O-oh really?" Taehyung is shocked and his expression morphs into melancholy and some shade of regret. But I brush it off.

"Yeah. I can't wait. I think next week is my big bonus."

"That's...good. The new hybrids are also coming next week. That container of his will be for another hybrid..."

Grinning, I chirp, "Yep! See you, Tae!" I quickly walk to the back.

I've been meaning to ask Yoongi his age, but Jungkook or Taehyung have been present and I know they won't let him answer. I'm hoping that today, Jungkook will be busy.

To my surprise, Jungkook is cleaning out Hoseok's container. It makes me explode in joy.

"Did you guys buy Hoseok?" Jungkook jumps and hits his head on the top of the container.

"Ouch."

"Oh. Sorry, Kook!" I walk over and rub his head.

"No worries," he waves me off as he leaves the container. "And actually, Hoseok got adopted by a really nice guy. I think his name was Jackson. He was about as energetic as Hoseok. I'm sure he's in a good place."

Jungkook locks the container.

"Wow... That's amazing. I'm so happy."

"We are, too. This month was pretty good with the exception of Jimin. Poor guy." We stand in silence for a bit as if sending Jimin our prayers.

"It's okay. You guys are doing great."

"Thanks. I'm glad you're here to keep them company. We can't be here all day. We have other animals to take care of and other things to do— Speaking of which-" He starts gathering his rag and broom. "I have to clean up!"

"Huh?"

"The inspectors are coming tomorrow and this place has to be spotless!" Jungkook runs off.

I send my thanks to the heavens.

"Hey. I'm here, too." The sarcastic remark reminds me of Yoongi's presence.

"Hey, Yoongi!" I sit beside his container later that week.

"Hello." He smiles and scoots forward. Yoongi pokes his hand outside of his enclosure and interlaces our hands. My blush appears.

I cough awkwardly.

"Um, I hope this isn't a strange question, but how old are you?" Yoongi tilts his head and looks around, trying to remember.

"I think...ten years old." My stomach drops.

"W-what? Are you sure?" I can feel myself shaking.

He doesn't have very long...

"Yes. I remember celebrating my birthdays. They put those number candles. In March I turned ten."

My grip on his hand tightens. I look down to avoid his eyes.

"And...h-how long have you been here?"

"Ten years." Tears stream down my cheeks.

"I-I'm so so sorry, Yoongi!" The sobs I've been holding in can't be controlled anymore. I cough as my throat feels like there's a golf ball lodged inside.

Why has he been suffering for so long? Having to watch hybrids adopted right next to him every day, watching and progressively losing his own hope of being taken home. The owner of this shop does God knows what to him when the store closes. How much has he gone through? And for this to have been the short, miserable existence he has had.

He'll die having experienced nothing that makes him happy.

Instead of telling me it would be okay, he places his hand on my head and pets me. I look up, surely a mess.

"You pet me like this when we first met. It made me feel better." He runs his fingers through my hair and hums. I sob harder and lean against the glass.

"Y-Yoon-gi."

"Don't cry. I like you happy."

My sobs reduce to hiccups and I stop crying. It does work, shockingly. When I look up, Yoongi looks drowsy.

"Better?" He yawns. "I'm tired. If I sleep and you're still here, wake me up."

His eyes slowly drift closed as he slows his petting.

I can't help wondering: Is he actually tired, or...is this something else?

Tomorrow is my bonus paycheck. I can adopt Yoongi and at least give him the best I can in the limited time he has. I can't wait. Practically running into the store, I yell a quick, "Hi, Taehyung!" and run to the back. Jungkook is on his phone waiting for Yoongi to finish his food.

Yoongi hears me approach and his scraggly Chinchilla ears perk up. He grins his typical, gum-filled grin. I see a few pieces of stray food between his teeth— the poor baby was probably starving —, but instead of being disgusted, I feel even more endeared.

"Hey, guys!" Jungkook looks up and jumps out of his chair.

"Great! You're here! Watch Yoongi, okay? I really gotta poo!" Scrunching my nose, I look Jungkook up and down with feigned disgust.

"Eww. Didn't need to know that, Kook."

"Yeah yeah. Okay, Mom," he sighs with an eye roll. He leaves us alone.

I grab his chair and come closer to Yoongi.

"Hewwo," he says through a mouthful of spinach. It's so cute that he loves spinach so much.

"Hey, Yoongi. I actually wanted to talk to you about my plans for tomorrow." He nods, accidentally dropping a piece of food, pouting. Gosh, he's so cute it melts my heart and insides.

"I've saved up enough money to adopt you. So I get a direct deposit tomorrow and with all the money I can come and take you home! I've been thinking about it for a long time and I've always wanted to adopt you. How does that-"

Yoongi crushes me into his body. He's shaking and his fingers clench the back of my shirt as if I'll leave him. His knees buckle and we end up on the floor. I can hear and feel his near hummingbird speed heart rate. And by God, is his breathing hard.

"T-thank you! Thank you so much!" When I hear his voice straining and the first tear touches my thin t-shirt, I near cry, too.

"Whatever for? I've always wanted to adopt you. I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner." He shakes his head.

"For showing me that not all humans are bad."

"Yoongi, you don't have to thank me fo-"

"I want to. You're my favorite person."

A burning chill runs up my back, arms, head— my whole body. I can't believe my ears.

"What?" He removes himself and searches my eyes, his own red and sparkling with tears.

"Can I say that?" Blushing, I take him in. I'm happy I could give him this simple, but rare joy.

"Of course. You're my favorite person, too." Yoongi's eyes widen, but he grins. Then, he blushes, hesitant.

Evidently, he catches me off guard when he presses his lips against mine.

I melt all over again. Of course, I press against him. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and I watch his eyes flutter shut. My own follow. Bunching up the fabric at his chest with my hands, I smile into the kiss. It doesn't last very long, but it's so soft and so full of love that it's better than any kiss I've had in the past. It has meaning.

He leans his forehead against mine.

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah. I did." He grins looking a bit more confident.

"Can I do it again?" Not a second elapses before he presses his lips to mine again.

This time, he's taken the experience from the first time and kisses me with more force. His lips move and dance with mine. I sigh, feeling content just like this. Something pokes my bottom lip, and I blush, realizing it's his tongue. Yoongi's chest is heaving against mine and he forces himself against me, pressing his body impossibly close.

"Woah! Didn't expect this after doing my business!"

We push away from each other upon hearing Jungkook's voice. I recover quickly, but Yoongi is red like a tomato and furiously picking at some skin patch on his tail. He looks like a kindergartener who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Cute.

Everything he does is so cute, who am I kidding.

"Wow. You weren't joking. All in cash, too!"

I woke up early the next morning— well I actually stayed awake until my deposit came in at midnight —to come to adopt Yoongi. None of my classes were this early, so I wanted to bring Yoongi home to help him get acquainted with my home. He just woke up and was rather confused why Jungkook woke him up so early.

But as soon as he saw me, he came and leaned his head on mine and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"All in cash, too, sir!" Taehyung laughs at my response.

"Alright, well, everything is all set. I'm happy you finally could take Yoongi home..." his voice drifts off as he glances over to hybrid. I notice this.

"Tae?"

"Actually, could I talk to you outside?" Nodding, I follow, but then adds, "Without Yoongi." Yoongi shrugs and tiredly leans against the counter.

The bell jingles.

The door shuts.

We walk a little away from the store.

Taehyung runs a hand through his hair and sighs. "Yesterday when you told me you were going to adopt Yoongi, I was so nervous." He hesitates.

I urge him to continue.

"Yoongi is ten years old. And Chinchillas don't live long. I think you've already noticed how tired he is recently."

Something heavy drops in the pit of my stomach. This again. Frowning, I look at Yoongi inside. He's almost asleep again, just leaning against that counter.

"As an employee, it's my obligation to tell you this."

"Okay, Tae. Please- just- just go on."

"He's going to die soon."

I swallow. Hard.

I've been avoiding that word. To put that word and Yoongi in the same sentence together, it's making me distraught.

"...I know. I still want to adopt him."

"I'm happy his last... months, weeks, days— who knows, are with you. He's been happier than ever-"

"It's nothing. He deserves better. Even much better than what I could give him." Taehyung nods and smiles, placing a hand on my shoulder. He can tell I don't want to discuss it anymore.

"Oh!" He reaches into his pocket for his phone. "Tell me your number. I'll text you mine and Jungkook's numbers. We are like this-" He crosses his index and middle finger. "-Now."

I giggle and roll my eyes. "Sure. I'll come by a few times. Maybe we can hang out like actual, normal friends."

"Eh. Maybe don't count on that. Anyway!" He pushes me back into the store, the jingling bells waking up Yoongi. "Take care of Yoongi! He's fragile!" Said hybrid rolls his eyes and follows me out of the store.

"Bye, Tae! Tell Jungkook I said hi and bye!"

We walk to the parking lot and Yoongi takes in everything with wide eyes. He touches my car and presses his face against the glass. I laugh.

"Get in, Yoongi!"

He looks overwhelmed, eventually asking, "You can go inside?" It makes me slightly sad, remembering how he's never gone anywhere except inside that store.

"Yes. Just pull on that handle." Once he sits inside, he finds more shocking revelations.

"There's so many buttons..."

"Don't touch them, okay? I don't want anything to happen." He obeys as I lean across the dash to buckle him in. Yoongi presses a kiss to my cheek. Sputtering and fighting a blush, I return to my seat to find a smirking hybrid.

"Okay. What kind of music do you like?"

"I can choose?"

"Of course!"

"Hip-hop."

"Oooooh. So cool, Yoongi." He nods and crosses his arms, feigning coolness.

But as soon as the car actually goes on the road, he's pressed to the window. He points at places through his window, in awe. All of which I promise to take him. By the end of the trip, my smile almost hurts, having never left.

Once we get home, Yoongi is so happily talking his head off about hip-hop that I don't dare to interrupt. Not that I want to; he's so cute when he's passionate. Plus, he never talks this much. I shove my key inside.

"Welcome home!" Yoongi cautiously steps inside. He slowly sits on the couch.

He looks up at me like a kid on Christmas. I've never seen Yoongi so happy.

"Like it?"

"Do you live here?"

"Huh? Well, yes," I respond, perplexed by his question. He yawns and lies down on the couch.

"Then I like it."

His simple words make my heart pump and toes tingle. The little smile on his lips as he rests on my couch has me like putty in his presence. Although his sudden tiredness worries me, I ignore it; he has had an eventful morning after all.

I check my phone for the time. He could nap for an hour before I had to go to class.

Tomorrow was the weekend. As I check the weather, I realize it would be absolutely perfect to go to the beach. Maybe Yoongi could use some sunlight. I laugh to myself.

I giggle at Yoongi's struggling to put the t-shirt on, his cute, pale belly wiggling. He eventually gets it on, a perfect fit.

"Sorry if it's old. It's one of my sleeping shirts. It was the only thing I could find that would fit you."

He brings it up to his nose and inhales deeply. Then, he shakes his head and smiles.

"It's fine. I like how it smells like you."

Damn. I clench the fabric around my chest dramatically.

"So-! Cute-!" He grabs my keys and hands them to me. By the awkward body language, I can tell I've embarrassed him.

I give him a once over and can't help the smile on my face. His cute little board shorts. It takes a lot of willpower to forego the trip and just cuddle him on the couch.

"Let's go."

Despite how many times I had to tell Yoongi to keep his seatbelt on, the trip was fun and quiet. Also, the fact Yoongi wanted to hold my hand made driving more difficult.

The beach is empty, probably since it's so early in the morning. Yoongi pulls on my bag.

Brows furrowing, he tells me, "Let me hold your bag."

"Why?"

"Taehyung used to put on movies for us to watch. Isn't it romantic for the boy to take the bag?" I look around, mentally looking for a spot to settle down before turning my attention back to him.

"Okay. Thank you, Yoongi." The bag slips from my fingers, but he does something unexpected.

He switches the bag to his other hand and holds my hand. We both blush furiously, but Yoongi can't seem to look me in the eye, so he looks away. Being careful of the dry seaweed, I lead him over to an empty spot.

"Sit here while I set up the umbrella." I remove my towel. Then I kneel down and prepare everything for us.

"You..."

"Me?"

"You look beautiful."

When I turn to Yoongi, he seems sincere.

"Poetic aren't you? Oh! Yoongi! We should build a sandcastle!" Upon finishing, I noticed the bucket and shovel.

"What is that?"

"I'll show you." The hybrid comes beside me, ears twitching with curiosity.

"Help me put sand in this bucket."

We work together until I carefully place the bucket upside down. When I remove it, the sand stays. Yoongi is in awe.

"I'm not done yet," I say as I begin drawing little decorations. Then I make a door. He gets the idea and carefully uses his fingers to carve little divots and ornate designs.

"Me and mom used to build sandcastles all the time when I was little." He smiles.

"What is she like?"

"Really nice. And she never gets mad at me. She's really smart, too. She is pretty even now. She's like an angel."

"You are just like her then. An angel." Our fingers touch and I look up at him. Next to me, Yoongi has a tender look in his eyes. He leans forward, planting a kiss on my temple.

My hand gets engulfed in sand and Yoongi flinches.

"Sorry. I ruined it."

"It's okay. Sandcastles are really great, but they're bound to go down."

"Oh," he whispers. And for some reason, he starts building it again.

"Do you want to do something else?" He numbly shakes his head.

"I want to build it again. I want this one to last forever," he explains, then turns to me. "It's the first one I made with you. It's more special."

Blinking, taken aback, I nod and help him.

Standing up once we finish, I grab his hand and help him up, but he nearly falls over. I panic and bring him close to support him.

"Yoongi?"

"It's okay." His eyes glaze over and I only now notice how weak and out of it he seems. Like a newborn dear, taking clumsy steps. He takes a few breaths and eventually rights himself.

He's weak. He's old. He's going to-

I stop the thought as I blurt, "Want to go get some ice cream?"

"What is ice cream?"

"It's difficult to explain, it's better to just try it." I grab my bag— which he takes out my hand in order to hold my hand —and very nearly drag him to an ice cream stand.

The man at the stand regards us with a fond grin.

"Pretty girlfriend." Yoongi blushes and I sneakily squeeze his hand.

"Thank you..."

"What can I get you?"

"One scoop of sea salt vanilla for him and a strawberry for me." Yoongi mentally notes what I said. I'm too scared to get him any other flavor for fear of his stomach not being able to digest it.

"Here you are! Three ninety-five."

Once I pay and we get seated on a bench, I eagerly start eating the dessert. But Yoongi, on the other hand, stares at it like it's an alien.

"Lick it." He observes how I do it before giving a cute, kitten-lick. His expression lights up, now devouring it like he won't ever eat again.

"Wow. I take it you like it?" He looks up from his treat, mouth stained with ice cream. Laughing, I grab a napkin and wipe his mouth.

He nods and struggles to say, "Gants." I laugh at his poor thank you.

After we both finish and our bellies are full of ice cream, I lean my head on Yoongi's shoulder. He follows and leans on mine, exhaling deeply. I can hear him yawn above me.

"I'm glad we could spend time like this, Yoongi. I really like you and I'm so thankful to have met you."

"Me, too..." His voice is quiet, and his body seems to sag. Maybe we can go home and relax after this.

Yoongi suddenly touches his chest. And he shakes. He takes a deep breath and doesn't breathe for a while.

"Hey, weirdo, what are you doing?" When he exhales, his heart starts pounding loudly. Yoongi sighs and grabs my hand, squeezing it.

"Nothing. I'm okay. It's nothing." Despite how strange it sounds, I ignore it.

"Can we come again tonight?"

"Tonight?" I look up at him, and he looks down at me with a pained expression.

"Yes. Please."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm okay. I just really want to come again." Nodding, I oblige to his wishes, but I can't help but worry about his odd behavior.

Just as I promised, when we finish eating dinner, I take him back down to the coast. I don't quite understand why he wants to come. As far as I can tell, he looks more ready for a long nap. But I still humor him and bring him down to the same spot.

The sandcastle was still halfway up, although the wind has definitely eroded it. Yoongi practically plops onto the ground. I don't bother setting up an umbrella and just get out a soft blanket and some cushions. After we get comfortable, Yoongi uses my lap as a pillow.

He takes a deep, shaky breath and touches his chest.

"What do you want to do?"

"Nothing. I just want to sit with you here a while."

"Oh," I mumble. For a while, I just run my fingers through his hair and watching his peaceful face. He looks like he's about to sleep.

"Are you tired, Yoongi?" When his eyes open, there are some unshed tears. My heart clenches, worried as to why he is so upset.

"I...yes."

"Why are you crying?"

"I am?" He wipes his eyes and forces a smile on his face, but I can't tell it's fake.

"You can tell me what's wrong."

"I'm sorry." Now confused, I watch as he grabs my hand and lays a kiss on the palm.

"Why?"

"Because... You've given me everything and I left you with nothing."

Frowning, I insist, "That's not true. You've given me a lot. Plus, I don't need material things. You're very precious to me. You've become the most person in my life."

He flinches hard when he hears that.

"Don't let me be that. It makes me feel so sad."

"Yoongi, you've been acting so strange today. As soon as we got home, you went to sleep. Then, when I asked you if you wanted to watch a movie, you told me you were too tired." Yoongi rolls over toward me and hugs my midriff.

I feel his tears on my shirt.

"I'm sorry."

"Yoongi. It's okay." I push him back so I can face him, and his eyes are swimming with a lot of things I can't place.

"Oh, Yoongi..." He clutches his chest.

Yoongi closes his eyes and breathes a few times. We sit there for a few minutes. I pet his head. The waves crash especially hard and our little sandcastle finally falls over. I smile at the memory from this morning. Yoongi was so happy to just be with me.

"Sorry. I have some thoughts really eating at me right now."

"It's okay. But never hesitate to tell me okay?" And for seemingly forever, Yoongi stares at me.

Then blurts, "I love you. I wanted to say it before I regret not saying it."

My heart beats out of my chest and if a human body could smile, every cell in my body would be smiling.

"I love you, too." He smiles his gummy smile. Again, he touches his chest. Closing his eyes, he grabs my hand again and squeezes it close to him.

"I'm going to...take a nap, okay?"

"Sure. We can go home after."

"...Yeah. And... Thank you so much for everything. My last— Uh. I'm glad you could take care of me for..."

He can't finish his sentence, as if something is holding him back. A little tear slips down the corner of his eye, but I don't catch it.

"I was in that place for so long. My entire life. Thank you for showing me love and happiness."

"Of course."

"And. I love you. A lot."

"Me, too."

"Can you say it? Please?" His voice cracks.

"I love you."

He smiles, still with an iron hold on my hand. His chest slows down. I can hear his heartbeat slowing, too. Such a calm, gentle thing. The waves crashing are the opposite. I didn't think I would get so attached to someone so fast like I did with Yoongi.

Sighing, I look down at him and squeeze his hand.

And I notice how oddly cold he is.

"Should have asked for a blanket, dummy." I drape it over him.

And then I notice that his chest isn't moving.

I furrow my eyebrows.

And then I realize I can't hear his heartbeat.

I gulp.

"Yoongi?" Lightly, I shake him.

He's as still as a rock.

Oh no no no no. Not now.

"Yoongi? This better be a joke!" I choke. Shaking him more vigorously, I start heaving.

Why now? Why?

I lean against his chest and can't hear or feel anything.

"Yoongi! Stop it right now!" My voice cracks. Before I know it I'm sobbing. I place my finger under his nose: no breath. His face is cold. I lean against his chest again, hoping for something.

The only thing I hear is my own heart.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" I grip his shirt, throat tightening, and stomach twisting. "I didn't know it would be so soon!" The tears running down my face are relentless.

How could he look so content and happy while my whole world is crumbling?! Why does time keep going, when I feel like it just stopped?!

"I'm so-so sorry. A month wasn't e-nough!"

He spent ten years of his life suffering and alone. It's not fair. Not fair for him or for me.

"I'm- I'm sorry I didn't do- do enough for you!" I hiccup. "You do-n't deserve th-this!" Bringing him toward me, I bury my face into his shoulder and squeeze him to me.

My tears reverberate:

Tap tap. Tap tap. Tap tap.

If only his heart sounded like that.

"I'm sorry, Yoongi."

#bts #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #yoongi #suga #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #angst #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #bts yoongi #bts suga #bts fluff #bts angst #suga fanfiction #yoongi fanfiction #suga fluff #suga angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi hybrid au #yoongi au #a summer with you

[writingsofwinchesters]

what mountains taught me about identity

This past summer, my sister and I road-tripped to a little town called Dillon in the heart of Summit County, Colorado for vacation. The only thing we planned ahead of time was the Airbnb. The rest of the trip was spontaneous. One day we hiked the Tenderfoot trail, another we visited the local farmer’s market, another we walked up and down the tourist-trap main street of Frisco, and yet another we attended a church service at a outdoor amphitheater. We let each day kind of just happen - and it was my favorite.

The entire trip was one of the most restful and peaceful experiences of my life. One of the best parts was the absolutely stunning, panoramic view of the mountains from the balcony of our condo, second only to the fact I got to spend that time with my sister. I can’t quite describe how incredible it was to be able to sit out there for hours, reading, talking, journaling, watching the sunset, and just being still with my gaze on the mountains in awe.

Fun fact: the first draft of this post was written on that balcony. I wanted to capture some of the peace and awe I felt in one of the most tangible ways I know how - through words.

I have a confession to make. It may be obvious from my social media posts, but just so it’s out there explicitly.

I am fanatically in love with mountains.

I don’t know if I can quite explain why. But that doesn’t mean I won’t try. Something about them simultaneously quiets my soul and also, like, yells at me. Like “SOAK IN THIS SERENITY. PAY ATTENTION AND REST NOW.” A little paradoxical, I’ll admit, but it’s a heady, mesmerizing mixture of feelings that I can never get enough of. I could literally spend all eternity just staring at them.

I know it sounds strange, but I miss the mountains. I nearly cried as we were leaving Dillon. As we wound down to Denver, I spent more time than I should have watching the mountains shrink in the mirrors of my car. For context - I was the one driving. For sure not the safest time to be staring out the window. (Do not mention this to my sister, by the way; she’d retroactively scold me to keep my eyes on the road.) I choked back tears as we got past Denver and I discovered I could no longer see the mountains on the horizon. My heart ached at the fact that I would not see them again for over a year. This strange kind of heartache doesn’t really make sense, but it was heartache nonetheless.

Admitting all that makes me feel a bit ridiculous. Maybe it made you laugh or shake your head in confusion. Maybe you feel the same way I do. I still don’t quite understand why I feel this way. I mean, they are just formations of sculpted rock and earth, right? Why do I feel so connected to them, like they’re living, breathing things?

As I process through that feeling, I begin to wonder if it has to do with how connected to God I feel when I’m in the mountains. He is so real to me there. I feel Him in the cool, thin air. I see Him in the snowy mountain peak that breaks apart the sky. I hear Him in the quiet stillness as the jagged rock blocks and muffles the sounds of busy city life.  

But, like, the mountains themselves, though. They’re just stunning.

First of all, mountains are gorgeous. Absolutely breathtaking. And not just because of the thinner air up there. Ba dum tiss. I know God is the most beautiful being in all existence because I see His beauty in how He molded the mountains and how He paints the sky around them. If His creation is that beautiful, how much more beautiful must the Creator be? For God to imagine up this beauty, He must be fantastically beautiful Himself.

Second, mountains are just so freaking majestic. And MASSIVE. I am fully aware of my tiny humanity when I gaze at the miles and miles of mountains. Just one mountain can take up my entire field of vision and even the smallest one exhausts me quickly when I try to scale it. The peaks stretch up to the sky and skim the clouds. We can’t build something that tall (we’ve tried - hello, Tower of Babel). There’s also something...unassuming and bold about a mountain, too. It’s not flashy or showy. It just sits there, confident and quiet, knowing it is one of God’s most incredible creations. That’s God too. He is majesty. He is enormous. He is the Most High King. His reach expands the entire universe. He is infinite. I can’t even fathom how big He is or how much He sees. He proclaims His glory in His creation - quiet yet bold. He is confident in His perfection and glory. His reach is not only wide but deep. He is personal enough to know every little detail of the life, body, and heart that He has given each of us.

Third, mountains are really complex and diverse. Some have rounded peaks, while others poke holes in the clouds. They are covered in millions of trees - pine, aspen, fir, and so many more. Their needles and leaves combine to become a blur of green around the base. Some mountains are short enough the trees and grass grow all the way to the top. Others are too tall that plant life can’t survive on the top piece, and they become warm brown rock with a snowy-white cap. Or maybe they’re slate-grey or even a blended brownish pink. Imagine all the animal life that exists on that one mountain! There’s so much detail in that delicate balance and God knows every single piece of it. What a mind our God has to create such diversity! He was intentional to place each rock and tree and animal and crevice and snow just exactly how He wants it. He put so much care and deliberation into His creation.

He crafted the mountains as a display of His glory and His majesty. How freaking amazing!

Phew. I need to take a deep breath for a second. I get way too excited about mountains.

Whoosh. Okay, back at it.

Since that’s how God created the mountains, unaware pieces of earth, what does that say about how He created us, moving, growing beings to whom He has given the breath of life? We are His creation, just like the mountains, and not only that, we are the crowning jewel of His creation, the final piece.

“Then God said, ‘Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth. So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.”  -Genesis 1:26-27

We are the only thing in all of creation that was formed in His image, created to bear His likeness and have dominion over the rest. Up until this point, He called His creation good, which includes the mountains. Do you know what He says on the sixth day, after He created us? “And God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good.” (Genesis 1:31) What does that say about our identity?

Identity is a common human struggle. I think it’s something we all search for out of a desire to be known deeply by someone other than ourselves. As I was growing up, I tried to find identity in being the best at everything I did. I had to be the smartest student, the most athletic volleyball player, the most popular kid in class, and the prettiest girl. To assess this, I developed a habit of comparing myself to others constantly.

Of course, I never met this impossible standard I set for myself. There was always someone smarter, someone more athletic, someone more popular, someone prettier. My reaction to this realization was to berate myself. Suck it up, I’d tell myself, work harder, be better. When that didn’t work, I turned to relationships with others to prove my value and identity. If this person liked me, if that person called me their friend, if that boy called me his, then I would be somebody. I’d finally be worthy, special, and valuable.

No surprise here, but that system failed quickly and often. Human beings are always changing - it’s in our nature, even our bodies change daily - and as a result, my perception of my identity fluctuated constantly. Identity is not designed to fluctuate. That was not God’s intention. The moment I realized my identity was actually inexorably connected to the God who is unchanging and eternal, the God who is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8) my whole world shifted. That’s when I gave my life to Him.

But - sin is sneaky, you know? Years later, after I thought that I had dealt with that particular sin right there and then, it reared its ugly head again. I thought it was one and done - I put my identity in who Christ says I am once and I’ll never have to think about it again.

Yet, I discovered I was putting it elsewhere, only now, the “elsewhere” was dressed up in Christian-ese and sneaky adulty things. Instead of daughter of the Most High King, I was a youth group leader. Instead of saved by grace, I was a good auditor. Instead of designed by the God of the entire universe, I was wanted and needed by a community of other Christians.

So God had to teach me again. What a loving, patient Savior. He saves me even from myself.

What would it look like if we fully believed in the identity God has given us? If we lived confidently in it? Just like the mountains, God intentionally and carefully created each one of us. He chose the unique color of your hair and the shape of your eyes. He chose the length of your toes and gaps between your teeth. He selected each tiny piece of your heart, the skills you use in your career, the passion you bring to your friendships, and the tenderness you have for your family. He chose and customized every little piece of you.

“For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.” -Psalm 139:13-14

How special and precious are you, dear friend! You are chosen to reflect His heart.

A few years ago, I was on a youth group trip to Colorado (sensing a theme here) and our morning activity one day was a hike. We wound up the mountain as a large group, sucking thin air into our flatlander lungs and then turned around before we got to the top so we wouldn’t miss lunch. Priorities.

As we were on the way down, we started to kind of spread out. I was towards the end of the group because I couldn’t stop looking around at the view. Then, we went around a curve and the entire valley and distant mountain range opened up below us. It was spectacular. I was overwhelmed with some emotion, something that I - to this day - can’t quite find the right words to describe. It might have been true, unedited awe and amazement, or a heartbreaking kind of gratitude to our mighty God. I stood off to the side of the trail to just drink it in, letting the others pass me. I wanted to remember this moment, this feeling, for the rest of my life. I was in tears and I didn’t fully understand why.

Why?

The question wouldn’t leave my head. I kept asking God - why? Out of all of this? These mountains and these clouds and these animals and these trees? Out of all this creation - this splendor and majesty laid before me? Even that was merely a drop, a small pinprick of all He had created. Miniscule in comparison to the entire universe. Why us? Why me? Surely the mountains are more beautiful and more deserving of His love than I am. Surely the sun and clouds and stars in the sky are more worthy to bear His image than I am. Why would the God of all of this awe choose human beings, choose me, to love, to place His image upon, and to have a relationship with? Why did he want me?

“Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!” - Romans 11:33

In the stillness of that mountaintop, I heard Him whisper to my anguished soul, “It’s not about you, dear daughter. It’s about me.”

What a relief. It’s not about me. It’s all about HIM. This world, these skies, these mountains, these people - this is all about God. This is His choice, His story, His love, His beauty, His grace, His glory.

My identity is that I am a tiny, but adored, treasured, intricately created, and delighted in piece of it.

And dear friend, so are you.

What amazing grace.

#grace #Jesus #identity #mountains #travel

[gardenassist]

In this article, we will  illustrate the most common microgreens which considered highly healthiest and profitable In a previous article, we reviewed in detail six important things you should be known before you start selling your microgreens.

1. Sunflower

Sunflower microgreens are probably the most popular on the market. They are usually easy to grow and only take 7-10 days to mature. However, they can sometimes have problems with germination, certain diseases, and husk shedding.

For these reasons, they are not among the most recommended microgreens for beginners. Growing these microgreens in the soil is recommended while growing them hydroponically is more difficult.

Sunflower microgreens are excellent in sandwiches, soups, salads, scrambled eggs, and wraps. Both the leaves and the stems are edible.

Try adding them to a sandwich to get the typical flavor of the seeds, but with the freshness and beauty of microgreens, or accompanied by cheese to add that extra touch that never hurts.

2-Pea

Pea microgreens are also very common and are one of my favorites. They are easy to grow in soil and take about 8-14 days to mature. They can also be grown hydroponically and produce a good yield.

Pea microgreens have a slightly sweet taste, with a bitter aftertaste. In the kitchen, they can add a pleasant touch of freshness to dishes to which they are added, giving a milder character and adding rich and natural flavors to any dish.

They are great in salads or even quickly sauteed with some garlic, soy sauce, and ginger. These peas are ideal for adding a touch of freshness and color to salads, as well as soups and stews.

3-Broccoli

Broccoli grows very quickly and is one of the easiest microgreens to grow. If you have the optimal conditions, such as the right temperature, water and growing medium, these beautiful and tasty microgreens can be ready in as little as six days. It can be grown in soil or hydroponically and is perfect for beginners.

It is a robust and substantial microgreen that has a fresh, mild cabbage flavor. They are also popular for their health benefits as they are a great source of sulforaphane. It is an excellent choice as a base for any salad made with microgreens.

4-Basil

Basil is an excellent microgreen that can be grown for commercial purposes. All cooks know and use basil because it is an ingredient they use in pasta, salads, and many sauces.

Basil is the main ingredient in Genovese pesto. Therefore, you can sell it quickly because there is a good demand and cooks love to have an extra fresh product. It can be grown in soil, but hydroponics is preferable.

Basil seeds are mucilaginous, which means that when the seeds get wet, a gel-like substance called mucilage forms. As such, mucilaginous seeds require a little more care and observation than other microgreens.

Because the seeds become sticky with the slime gel, they are often described as difficult to grow. They may not be the best choice for beginners.

5-Cress

Cress microgreens grow well in soil or hydroponically. There are several varieties, and it is a fairly well-known plant among microgreens enthusiasts. Its cultivation requires less water than most other microgreens.

Thanks to its distinctive flavor, watercress can be used in numerous recipes; add watercress to egg mayonnaise sandwiches, salads, and soups, or use it to garnish canapés and grilled dishes.

It can also be used as a base for sauces and condiments to pair with fish, especially salmon, shrimp, and shellfish in general. They are often combined with ginger to obtain a mixture of, especially spicy flavors.

6- Radish

Radish microgreens are among the easiest microgreens to grow indoors and also among the fastest-growing. They are suitable for any cultivation (in soil or hydroponic). Under certain conditions, they can be ready to harvest as soon as six days after planting.

Radish microgreens have mild sweet and spicy notes. They can make a colorful and tempting ingredient in your vegan or vegetarian sandwiches, but they’re also perfect for adding to salads of all kinds.

They are incredibly juicy, and for this reason, they can become a natural condiment for various preparations (risotto, sandwiches, pasta). They can be added to salads to give them a stronger flavor, and they go perfectly with a crab salad along with cucumbers. Finally, many use them to give appetizers an extra touch.

7-Arugula

If you’re just getting started growing microgreens, growing arugula microgreens is a great way to start. It’s a popular plant with chefs and hobbyists alike, with a spicy, nutty flavor that will jazz up most dishes. It also grows very quickly (both in soil and hydroponically) and can typically be harvested in about ten days.

Arugula is one of the most popular microgreens because of its distinctive spicy, nutty, almost tart flavor that develops into a bitter and spicy taste. Arugula microgreens are delicious raw because when cooked, they lose their characteristic spiciness.

Perfect for summer pizzas, omelets, chips, pasta, or rice. Its bitter taste makes it ideal to be combined with many other ingredients, including other microgreens such as arugula, peas, sunflowers, and red chard.

8. Cilantro/Coriander

Coriander is a well-known plant, very good to eat and beautiful to look at. It is not one of the easiest or fastest microgreens to grow, as it can take up to 28 days before you can harvest. It is better to choose soil growing for this microgreen, as hydroponic growing can be very difficult.

Cilantro microgreens are suitable for raw preparations, especially as a garnish, as they wilt with prolonged exposure to heat. They have a bright, sweet, and spicy flavor without the soapy, bitter character that mature cilantro can develop.

Micro-cilantro leaves are most commonly used in Mexican, Indian, Thai, and Chinese cuisine and can be placed on eggs and egg rolls to add a bright flavor to lobster and crab, mixed with polenta or even chopped into a sauce.

Coriander microgreens go well with avocado, carrots, zucchini, tomatoes, coconut milk, citrus fruits, ginger, mint, lemongrass, chilies, yogurt, chicken, white lamb fish and only need to be added at the final stage of a dish.

9. Amaranth

Amaranth is a microgreen with amazing color and flavor. It grows quite quickly, both in soil and hydroponically. Growing it in soil, however, is a bit easier.

It can be ready to harvest as soon as 12 days after sowing. It does not like cold weather, so it is best to grow it in a warm enough place. It can also suffer if exposed to too much direct light.

This microgreen has a robust flavor, similar to mustard, but much less pungent. Thanks to its tart but pleasant flavor, it can be eaten raw in fresh salads and pairs well with carrots, cucumbers, and radicchio. Its striking colors make it a great side dish or a delicious addition to any salad.

10- Beet

Growing beet microgreens requires special care and is therefore suitable for advanced growers. You can still put up with this extra work because these plants have many good qualities: Color, mild beet flavor, and concentrated nutrient content.

These microgreens are incredibly rich in vitamins K, A, and C. They are also rich in protein, fiber, and antioxidants. Beet microgreens are easy to digest, so they are good for your health and are in demand in the market. They can only be grown in soil and take at least twenty days to ripen.

Thanks to their blood-red color, they are especially good for livening up delicious salads and adding sparkle to them. You can use them as a garnish to sandwiches or as an ingredient in numerous dishes, such as in savory pie with beets and spinach.

It is always recommended to use raw red chard microgreens to prevent their nutritional properties from being lost during cooking.

11-Borage

Borage is a moderate to easy microgreen to grow, but with a little patience, you can get great results. Borage microgreens add flavor profiles to salads, soups, and sandwiches.

Young leaves with a unique flavor are an intriguing addition to a variety of dishes. In addition to great flavor and tender texture, they also contain many nutrients. Young borage leaves and stems have a pleasant taste and smell like fresh cucumbers with an aftertaste of cantaloupe.

You can add them to sandwiches, salads, meat, fish, and vegetables or use them to season sauces and decorate plates.

12-Cabbage

Cabbage is one of the most popular microgreens in the world. It has a pink stem, dark green leaves with purple edges, and veins.

Cauliflower microgreens are easy to grow both in soil and hydroponically. It can be ready for harvest as early as 12 days after sowing It is rich in vitamins and mineral salts, boosts the immune system, and (as researchers found) significantly lowers triglyceride and cholesterol levels.

They protect against cardiovascular diseases. Its taste is delicate and sweet: it is excellent for enriching salads, sandwiches, pasta or risotto.

13-Kohlrabi

Kohlrabi is often called German turnip. It belongs to the same family as cabbage, broccoli, and cauliflower. It grows quite quickly, both in soil and hydroponically.

Kohlrabi microgreens can be grown in as little as 2 weeks. They are ready to eat as soon as the first leaves appear and have lavender stems with green leaves.

Kohlrabi microgreens taste similar to turnips, which may be where the name comes from. They are sweeter and a great addition to any dish. You would probably describe them as more of a sweet broccoli flavor. They offer a super high vitamin C content, so they have a slightly sour taste.

Great for eating in salads, garnishing pizzas, or as a topping for various types of focaccias. Excellent, simply wilted in a pan, for garnishing canapes with liver and butter or canapes with seafood and raw garlic.

14-Trunip

Traditionally grown alongside carrots, beets, and parsnips, turnips are one of the oldest and most popular root vegetables around and one of the easiest to grow in both soil and hydroponics.

The high levels of nutrients in turnip microgreens can help prevent many diseases by reducing the risk of coronary heart disease, stroke or high blood pressure.

Turnip microgreens have the right concentration of flavor, nutrients, and a pleasant and intense aroma. They have a taste like a spicy kale or spinach. They are pleasing to the eye and ideal to complete any dish.

15-Onion

Growing onion microgreens is easy but somewhat slow with a maturity time of 15 to 21 days. It is recommended to grow these microgreens in soil.

One great thing about onion microgreens is that you can get a second and third cutting from your first planting. Unlike most microgreens, the growth is from the bottom, not the top. The yield will be lower on the second cutting, but we think it’s worth saving for another harvest.

Onion microgreens are a rich source of various micronutrients, especially vitamins and minerals. Some of the lipophilic vitamins are much higher in microgreens than in mature plants, and the vitamin E content of microgreens is forty times higher.

In addition, microgreens are an excellent source of several bioactive compounds. Since onion microgreens are delicious, they can be used in salads, sandwiches, and soups as an additional ingredient. It does not contain gluten and lactose and can be used by vegetarians and vegans.

16-Fennel

Fennel microgreen is easy to grow in soil and takes about 8-14 days to mature. It can regrow, so you can get a second and third cutting from your first planting It is widely known for its licorice (anise) flavor, along with its sweet and peppery notes.

It became famous in upscale restaurants in America in the 80s and 90s, adding a finishing touch to many dishes. Fennel microgreens are great as a garnish for savory or sweet dishes; they are thin, green, and tender and have a slight anise flavor, making them a great garnish for Italian or Indian dishes.

The special taste of micro fennel vegetables makes them ideal for summer salads or centrifuged.

17. Mustard – Spinach (Komatsuna)

This vegetable, which belongs to the Brassicaceae family, is cultivated in Asian countries. Especially in Japan for centuries. It has a mildly spicy flavor and is rich in nutrients.

Mustard Microgreens, like most brassicas, grow quickly and consistently under the right conditions. It grows quite quickly, both in soil and hydroponically. It can be ready for harvest as early as 12 days after sowing.

Its flavor is slightly bitter and peppery, adding a subtle note to dishes raw and cooked. “Komatsuna” microgreens can also be enjoyed by adding them to fried foods, pasta dishes, and pizzas.

Either way, using “Komatsuna” Microgreens in a salad mix with other vegetables, in a sandwich or lightly sautéed, are a very nutritious as well as a tasty food source.

18-Mizuna

Mizuna is a green leafy vegetable native to East Asia, also called Japanese mustard. Part of the genus Brassica, mizuna is related to other cruciferous vegetables such as broccoli, cauliflower, kale, and Brussels sprouts.

It can be grown in soil or hydroponically and can be harvested as microgreens after 8 to 12 days or as baby greens after about 25 days.

It has dark green, serrated leaves with thin stems and a peppery, slightly bitter, and sour taste like arugula. Although it is often grown for salad mixes, it can also be enjoyed cooked or pickled.

19-Nasturtium

Nasturtium is a trendy ornamental plant that also finds its uses in the kitchen. Its flowers, leaves, and seeds are edible and valued for their medicinal properties. Nasturtium microgreens are easy to grow in loamy soil with moderate water and plenty of light.

They do not grow easily in hydroponic growing media. It is possible, though very difficult.

They have a peppery flavor and aroma and are delicious in many recipes including salads, sandwiches, eggs, and meats. They are becoming a popular addition to sushi as they have a similar spiciness to wasabi.

The tasty and healthy young nasturtium leaves and sprouts contain vitamin C, beta-carotene, and lutein. They show anti-inflammatory and antioxidant effects.

20-Tatsoi

Tatsoi Microgreens are another variety in the long list of brassicas. Like most brassicas, they are very easy and quick to grow, both in soil and hydroponically. Under the right conditions, they can be ready to harvest as soon as 12 days after sowing.

Their taste is similar to cabbage but spicier. They have an aromatic and spicy flavor but are more tender and sweeter. They are perfect as a side dish to dishes of all kinds, such as grilled lunches or even your favorite dishes.

The tatsoi micro vegetables are also used to make fresh and very nutritious salads, perhaps along with other micro vegetables such as red mustard or mizuna. Sometimes they are used to enrich vegetable soups or to add an extra aromatic touch to sandwiches.

[ellocentipede]

NAVA Eternal Ankh Colors

Nocturne Alchemy’s wide variety of legendary vanilla scents is what first drew me to the brand, and Eternal Ankh is one of the best and most popular blends. Over the last couple of years the studio has gradually released the Eternal Ankh Colors—diverse perfumes that all share the Eternal Ankh bass. It’s a gorgeous collection, and one that I wear frequently.

Eternal Ankh Original 

Scent description: White Amber, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla fleck, African White Vanilla

Eternal Ankh is a beautiful and versatile vanilla that, to my nose, straddles the line of gourmand and floral. It’s sweet, but not overly rich, warm, and a touch musky. It’s complex enough to be worn on its own, but it also layers and blends beautifully with other notes and scents.

Eternal Ankh Pink 

Scent description: White Amber Absolute, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla fleck, African White Vanilla Absolute, Amber Resin, Bastet’s Amber, Pink Sugar and a touch of Crimson Musk.

This is a beautiful and carefree vanilla blend that really does smell like the color pink! It’s almost like the scent of pink cotton candy. I get a base of the beautiful, smooth Eternal Ankh vanilla crusted with crystallized globs of pink sugar, with a delicate, hazy cloud of musk.

Eternal Ankh Blue 

Scent description: White Amber Absolute, Black Patchouli, Kulfi accord, Pistachio, Sandalwood, Egyptian Vanilla Fleck, Egyptian Vanilla Absolute, Amber Resin, Bastet's Black Amber, Saffron, Blue Sugar and a touch of Egyptian Musk and Cardamom.

I love Eternal Ankh and think that all of these iterations are beautiful, but if I absolutely had to pick a favorite it would probably be this one. The spices, of which I primarily detect cardamom, are fragrant and full-bodied without being overpowering. This is a gorgeous, mature vanilla-based scent that is mysterious, musky, spicy, and resinous. It’s the scent of a sweets shop full of rich yet delicate honeyed pastries and confections studded with nuts and flavored with cardamom, with a censer of precious resins smoking quietly in the background.

Eternal Ankh Red 

Scent description: White Rose, Red Rose and Black Rose absolutes, Crimson Egyptian Musk Absolute, White Amber Absolute, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla fleck,  Egyptian Musk, Bastet's Amber Absolute, Crystalline Absolute and a drop of eNVie saphir Amber absolute.

This a simple and straightforward vanilla rose blend, and it’s absolutely beautiful. It’s lush and beautifully balanced, not soapy or sharp as rose blends can sometimes be. It’s gentle, soft, and wears closely to the skin. Beautiful.

Eternal Ankh Claret 

Scent description: Kashmir Red Musk Absolute, Incense Accord, Skin Musk, Black Santalum, White Amber Absolute, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk and Vanilla Fleck

Oh how beautiful. This is a gorgeous and vampy vanilla blend! The red musk and incense are rich and fragrant, and combine with the vanilla to create a sexy blend that evokes a Victorian salon furnished with red-velvet-covered chaises and dark, fragrant woods. Absolutely gorgeous.

Eternal Ankh Orange 

Scent description: White Amber Absolute, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla fleck, Black Patchouli Absolute, Black Vetiver Absolute, Nag Champa Accord, Plumeria Rubra, Magnolia Champaka and Gold Sandalwood

I’m doing this review from memory, as I have long rehomed my bottle, but I remember it being very patchouli-forward. Sometimes patchouli works beautifully for me, and sometimes it doesn’t. Here, unfortunately, the patchouli was sharp and overtook the rest of the blend. If you have good luck with NAVA’s patchouli notes, however, this one should be a stunner.

Eternal Ankh Yellow 

Scent description: White Amber Absolute, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla fleck, Organic Egyptian Neroli Absolute, Organic Moroccan Neroli EO, Italian Red Mandarin peel, Bergamot, Orange Blossom and Crystalline Absolute

Ohhh my goodness. I think this is my second favorite blend of the bunch. This is an absolutely gorgeous vanilla-kissed orange blossom blend. The vanilla provides a delicate creamy sweetness, and the light, zesty, juicy fruitiness of the mandarin and dry Bergamot lend a nectared quality to the orange blossom, making it smell realistic, like holding an actual orange blossom to your nose. The Neroli is not sharp at all. This scent is all about the nectar-rich orange blossom.

Eternal Ankh Purple 

Scent description: White Amber Absolute, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla fleck, Sambac Jasmine, Egyptian Jasmine Absolute, Indian Jasmine Grandiflorum, Egyptian Musk, Bastet's Amber Absolute, Crystalline Absolute and Organic Pink Peppercorn

NAVA does jasmine scents so well, and this blend is a stunner. I get more jasmine than anything else—it’s in full bloom: full-bodied, waxy, heady, sweet, and strongly fragrant. It’s vanilla-kissed at first, but with time the Eternal Ankh becomes more prominent and brings a beautiful musky, dry warmth to the blend. I don’t distinctly smell the peppercorn, but I imagine that it’s providing some balance to prevent the blend from being overwhelmingly sweet and heady (because it’s not). This blend is a must-have for lovers of jasmine and vanilla. For those familiar with Ghost Velvet, this blend is similar but slightly more delicate and, with time, more vanilla-centric.

Eternal Ankh Violet  

Scent description: Hawaiian Plumeria, Roman Blue Chamomile, Sweet Apple skin, Gardenia,  White Amber Absolute, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla fleck,  Egyptian Musk, Bastet's Amber Absolute, Crystalline Absolute and a drop of eNVie saphir blue Amber absolute.

I wasn’t really sure what to expect of this one from the notes, but I took a chance because I love plumeria. This is a beautiful, sunny tropical floral blend. I mostly get the plumeria, which is fresh and not quite fully bloomed, like a newly opened bud. The apple is tart, fresh, and green, but not overwhelmingly so. It complements the floral notes to create a tropical vibe that somehow evokes dew-soaked bananas and other sweet equatorial fruits. The chamomile is perhaps lending a very slight dustiness that prevents the blend from being too overtly fruity. Lovely.

Eternal Ankh Orchid 

Scent description: Vanilla Cream Soda, Orchid, Black Currant, Clementine, Sandalwood, White Amber Absolute, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla fleck,  Egyptian Musk, Bastet's Amber Absolute, Crystalline Absolute and a drop of eNVie saphir Amber absolute.

Eternal Ankh Orchid is a bright, juicy pop of currant with a background of smooth vanilla. With time the smooth sandalwood begins to temper the juicy fruitiness of the blend, but this is still primarily a dark, ripe berry scent.

Eternal Ankh Spice 

Scent description: White Amber Absolute, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla fleck, African White Vanilla Absolute, Essential oils of Nutmeg, clove and Cardamom with a drydown of beautiful Eternal Ankh Vanilla

In the bottle this smells Eternal Ankh-heavy with just a dash of spice, but on skin the spice blooms and is really beautiful. I get mostly the cardamom with a hint of nutmeg in a cloud of EA. This is really perfect for “fall” in my neck of the woods–where the forecast has high temps in the 90s through the first week of October.

Eternal Ankh Cobalt 

Scent description: White Amber Absolute, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla fleck, Almond Sweet, Pistachio accord, French Vanilla, a touch of Black Tea, Amber Sweet, Blue Sugar and Organic Bourbon Vanilla Bean

A blast of smooth, beautiful, sweet pistachio and almond (like a fine, expensive extract) greets the nose. There’s a hint of warm, fine, black tea, evoking a steaming cup next to a plate of almond and pistachio cookies. Fairly quickly, the nut extracts fade into the background and the tea becomes more prominent. This is the most gourmand blend of the EA colors, and it’s wonderful. It’s rich and delicious without being overwhelming. A truly lovely and comforting blend.

Eternal Ankh Pearl 

Scent description: Crystalline Absolute, aged Bastet Amber Absolute, Heliotrope EO, Siberian Rhododendron EO, White Amber Absolute, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla fleck and Vanilla bean

I’ve never liked the scent of heliotrope before NAVA—I’ve found it to be an odd and sickly sweet on my skin. I’ve become a convert, however. NAVA’s Heliotrope & Sandalwood Creme, Heliotrope Musk, and Eternal Ankh Pearl are some of my favorite blends. The heliotrope really shines here—it’s sweet (but not sickly), lightly musky, and delicately powdery. It’s a magic blend that is clean, comforting, and lustrous like a pearl. Pretty, soft, and elegant! This is one of my favorites.

Eternal Ankh Green

Scent description: White Ginger Incense, Ginger Essential Oil, Nutmeg, White Cinnamon, Cognac Absolute, Copal essential Oil, Dried Tonka Vanilla, NA Osirian Incense (SL Osirian Purnima), White Amber Absolute, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla fleck and Vanilla Absolute

I very nearly didn’t order this one because of the ginger and cinnamon, but I’m so very glad that I did! The ginger is definitely present, but not overpowering. With the vanilla it creates a warm and inviting scent that does evoke Christmas. Surprisingly, I don’t detect any cinnamon from this blend. If you like the idea of holiday spice but have trouble with spicy blends being too overwhelming on your skin, I recommend giving this oil a try!

Eternal Ankh Black 

Scent description: White Amber, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla fleck, African White Vanilla, Black Agarwood, NA Oudh essence and Black Patchouli Absolute

This one is going to be a hit with many, but unfortunately for me the oudh and/or patchouli go a little sharp (as they usually do). It’s a slinky blend–vanilla-kissed precious woods.

Eternal Ankh Labradorite 

Scent description: White Amber light, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla fleck, enfleurage of South American Honeysuckle (Lonicera japonica), gorgeous Crystalline Absolute infused Bastet's Amber Absolute blend and a drop of pure Egyptian Honeysuckle and Peony Extract.

I love NAVA’s honeysuckles, so picking up this scent was a no-brainer. It’s really, really beautiful. I get sweet, waxy, sun-warmed, nectar-dripping honeysuckle blossoms in a cloud of smooth, vanilla. The vanilla is sweet, but not gourmand, like the sweetness of realistic tropical florals. There’s a hint of pink freshness to the blend that must be the peony extract. This is a beautiful, elegant, and happy blend that is a little beachy in feel. 

Eternal Ankh Lapis Lazuli 

Scent description: White Amber light, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla Fleck, eNVie saphir absolute, enfleurage of delicate South American Frangipani (Plumeria alba), Plumeria Absolute and a drop of pure Indian White Jasmine.

This one is interesting! I get a lot of frangipani/plumeria, and it’s beautiful. The blossoms smell a bit fresh, as if they’ve just survived a rainstorm, and they’re not quite fully-blossomed, but have just emerged from buds. The vanilla softens the blend and creates another smooth, gorgeous vanilla floral blend. 

Eternal Ankh Fluorite 

Scent description: White Amber light, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla Fleck, Vanilla bean whole, enfleurage of beautiful Madagascar Ylang Ylang (cananga odorata), Monoi, Mahogany Wood essence and eNVie saphir absolute.

Eternal Ankh Fluorite is very ylang ylang-dominant. These blooms are fully opened and bossy! They’re heady, waxy, and creamy yellow in feel. The touch of mahogany wood warms up the scent and gives it some depth--it is smooth and fragrant. The combination of mahogany and ylang ylang approaches the scent of anise to my nose. With time this matures into a gorgeous full-bodied scent with lots of depth. The ylang ylang and mahogany complement each other beautifully and create a rich woody-floral vanilla scent.

Eternal Ankh Snow 

Scent description: White Amber, Powdered and reconstructed oil of Egyptian Vanilla Husk, Vanilla fleck, African White Vanilla, White Amber, Roman Blue Chamomile, White Pine essence, Bay Leaf, White Musk and a drop of pure Peppermint infused orange skin

This is a beautiful, wintry take on Eternal Ankh. It really does smell like Eternal Ankh with snow. It’s fluffy and pillowy, with hints of cold, bracing ozone and pine. It reminds me a lot of BPAL’s Go to Sleep, Darlings scent—pillowy vanilla snow. I love this one so much!

Nocturne Alchemy’s beautiful perfumes may be perused and purchased at https://nocturnealchemy.com

[kathryncriston]

Quantum Scrum - a retrospective

(Photo: My team on the final day of the Ludum Dare 44 challenge. Note the lack of exhaustion and helplessness. :) Photo Credit: Museum of Digital Arts (MuDa)

From April 27-29, David Stark, Manuel Mumenthaler, and I set out to make a digital game from scratch for Ludum Dare 44. This sort of effort normally involves a mad dash, working inhumane hours to (hopefully) make a game. But we made a complete, artistically successful, enjoyable game while working manageable hours, staying on track, and working at our best.

We did it using my new invention: Quantum Scrum.

7 Sprints lasting approximately 4 hours each, with the complete cycle of sprint planning, “daily” check in, sprint review and sprint retrospective performed according to the Scrum Guide. 

Quantum Scrum is my most recent downscaling of Scrum, designed to facilitate complex short term projects. The Ludum Dare challenge was the perfect opportunity to test it.

Traditional Scrum vs Quantum Scrum

In traditional applications of Scrum, projects can last years and a sprint lasts between 2-4 weeks, taking on complex interrelated tasks with the goal to have a complete, presentable increment of progress by the end of the sprint. Quantum Scrum does the same, except with a shorter project of smaller scope. In our case, we made a short strategy game in a few days rather than an epic RPG over years.

Functionally, Quantum Scrum is the same as traditional Scrum except for the Daily Scrum event. In traditional Scrum, the a daily event is required to make sure the team is working in accordance with the big picture, and coordinating its efforts in the best way. But a Quantum Scrum project is small and moves so quickly, there is no time for a 15 minute meeting between each significant effort. There is no need for such a long check-in either, as the scope of the project does not involve as many components, or as much time, and it is easier for the team members to know their place in the big picture.

Quantum Scrum is the minimum amount of interaction involved to uphold the Scrum framework and its incremental achievements.

Our experiment:

In Ludum Dare, a team has 72 hours to make a game based on a given theme. We agreed that for our team in Switzerland, these 72 hours would begin at 2:00 in the morning on Saturday April 27th and end at 2:00 on Tuesday April 30th. On Saturday morning, we would look at the theme individually, come together at 9:00, define our project and construct the most essential foundation of the game. On Sunday, we would get a working prototype and add the finishing touches on Monday. We would finish no later than 22:00.

Manuel (right) would be the primary programmer, David (center) the artist and programmer as needed. I (left) would compose the music and sound effects and serve as Scrum Master.

We would work 8-9 hours per day, taking normal snack, lunch, and dinner breaks and sleeping normally also.

We would perform all the Scrum events, following the rules and roles of Scrum as written in the Scrum Guide, except for the role of Product Owner.

Our objective was to test the team’s dynamic, productivity, and the viability of Scrum on a small scale. There was no external demand for this project, no user stories to be considered, or clients to work with. As part of our team’s self organization, we would function together as the keepers of the product backlog. Our consensus would fill the role of Product Owner.

The project backlog would consist of post its on the wall. Every team member would have their own color of post-it. David = blue Manuel = pink, me = green.

A subordinate scrum board would contain post-its of the tasks needed for a particular sprint. This would serve as a check-in, fulfilling the daily scrum function. At any time, a team member could check off done work, to keep the scrum board current.

(Photo: the project backlog)

How We Did It

Before undertaking this challenge, David, Manuel and I met at a cafe. We established who was going to do what task, what tools were necessary to do it, and if there were any foreseeable obstructions to our progress.

Most importantly, we agreed that this project was not about developing our favorite personal ideas but making the best complete, playable game that a team can construct in three days.

This consensus was critical, and enabled us to create and communicate without fundamental obstructions.

Day I

The theme: Your Life is Currency

8:00 - Manuel and I had coffee before meeting with David. We brainstormed a bit, and Manuel had the idea that when a bee stings a large animal, the bee will die afterwards, so the bee’s life is like currency. This got us laughing about making a bee strategy game where if you got enough bees they could pick up the hive, move it, and take over a field.

9:00 - We arrived at the Museum of Digital Arts, where our workspace was, still laughing about bees. We sat down with David and started the official brainstorming.

David had carefully approached each word in the theme and came up with several ideas, including blood magician stockbrokers.

Of the proposed ideas, we narrowed it down to the strongest two: bees and blood magician stockbrokers.

Then I had to leave for a medical appointment that could not be avoided, leaving Manuel and David to investigate the mechanics of these two possibilities. The appointment kept me away until 12:00, but this caused no disruption because everyone was aware of it in advance, and there was enough work to be done that did not involve me.

12:30 - I returned. It turned out that both games were possible to make, but the blood magician broker idea needed narrative development, which meant additional work in roles we had not planned to fill, and the bee idea did not. So we chose the bees, then went to lunch.

During lunch, it was not allowed to discuss the game. We spent the hour chatting about other things, giving our minds a real break.

13:30 - We did a general project planning and created a project backlog, arranged left to right in order of priority. The priority and content of each item was agreed upon by consensus.

(Photo: David and Manuel with the project backlog)

Everyone’s role was well defined in advance. We each proposed tasks that we would perform along with details on how these would be accomplished. We often cross-checked with one another to see how singular tasks fit into the whole.

This project planning meeting took 90 minutes. It was not rushed. We took the time we needed to make sure the project on a large and small scale was as visible as possible. As a Scrum Master, I made sure that time was used efficiently and wisely.

We were all set to make a strategy game about bees, wherein you “control a swarm of bees. Gather nectar, care for your brood, defend against attackers. Gather enough nectar and you can bring forth the Imperatrix Apis, the Bee Empress.” - David

Sprint 1

15:00 - 19:00

To be done: foundational work

(Photo: Sprint 1 Scrum Board, which would function as the daily scrum)

Everyone worked separately. At 16:40 we did an informal check-in, saying what we did and what we plan to do next. Otherwise, a short question or glance at the scrum board was enough to keep us on track.

We had a sprint review followed by sprint retro, followed by planning for the next sprint, including getting the board ready.

While discussing, it became clear that we needed to record sound effects offsite, and it would be quicker and easier if we did it together. The best time to do it was that very evening.

So we got carry out pizza, went over to David’s flat, and recorded all of the sound effects. David and I designed them together.

I am the voice of the bee, Manuel is the Hornet, and David is the bear.

We made all of the sound effects with our mouths, except for the mouse, which is a combination of a sped up whale song and slowed down mouse squeak, which are essentially the same sound when the frequencies align…

(Photo: setting up the mic for sound effects)

This recording session lasted until about 22:00. So we technically worked more than 9 hours, but since the recording session was a different sort of activity from the rest, it did not wear us out any more than if we had gone over to David’s to play a game.

At the end of Day I a third of our work-time was used up. Most of it had been spent on transparency and consensus. The slow, essential foundation of everything that could become our game.

Day II

Sprint 2

9:00 - 13:00

To be done: Everyone had their own particular developmental goal.

D - Finish hornet and mouse drawings

M - Finish “must have” programming

K - Finish 2 pieces of music with a transition

9:00 - We got to work immediately.

David showed me how to use Git. That was unexpected and took about an hour out of our work time.

There was no real check in during this sprint though I did tell Manuel when I was done with the musical pieces he needed for his programming work.

At 13:00 we did a brief review and retrospective. We did the next sprint planning immediately and got the scrum board ready. Then we went to lunch.

During lunch, we did not discuss the game.

Sprint 3

14:00 - 18:00

To be done: Finish minimal playable version of game

David volunteered to mix and finalize the sound effects. He had more experience putting sound effects into games, and he had a clear idea of what had to be done, so letting him have the task was a logical choice. It also gave the sound effects an artistic unity that would have been lacking had we tried to finalize them together.

We all finished our planned work by 17:40, but did not reach the sprint goal. We did a sprint review, retro, and planning for one more mini sprint that day, as we discovered that there was only a small amount of work needed to meet that sprint goal. And everyone had the energy for that additional effort.

We had a long dinner. Went walking outside, got sushi and Starbucks. We chatted about non-game things and got to know one another better. The fact we were working on an intensive, time critical project was completely out of mind. As a Scrum Master, I made sure everyone could honestly rest.

(Photo: me taking a break after finishing the hornet fight music.)

Sprint 4 (mini sprint)

20:00 - 21:00

To be done: Finish essential features

Done efficiently and without stress. We did this brief, focused sprint review and went home.

Manuel decided to finish up a small thing on the train on the way home, which is what seemed most comfortable for him.

At the end of Day II, we had finished an incredible amount of work and had the essentials of the game. But we did not a working prototype. And we only had 1 day left.

Day III

8:30 - I had coffee with Manuel. We ended up talking about the game, which was not a good thing. It showed a pending lack of balance.

9:00-10:00 Retrospective on Sprint 4. Planning for Sprint 5.

We re-prioritized the project backlog and got a clear picture of what the final day would entail. The bear got cut out as an enemy, because we knew we did not have time to develop it well. We preferred to make the hornet and mouse really good.

Sprint 5

10:00 - 18:00

To be done: Have a beta version that is playable.

Rather than split this into two sprints, we kept it as one since the goal was the same. At this small of a scale, a full review, retrospective, and sprint planning would have interfered with the work being done. And since we were communicating well along the way, excessive catch-up was not needed.

So we thought.

The work proceeded fluidly. We communicated well as usual, but there was a quiet tension that increased throughout the sprint. Since we were in general a well balanced, cohesive team this did not impact our respect of one another, productivity, or intentional rest.

There were two breaks. The first was at 13:00 for lunch, after which we had a legitimate daily scrum. This seemed to resolve the tension and rejuvenate us.

We also took a second break to take publicity photos (because David had awesome sunglasses and we couldn’t resist the idea.)

We also did a brief check-in after this second break. We continued to be productive, but again, the quiet stress seeped into our sprint.

At 18:00 we finished the sprint. We met the sprint goal. It was a success. Except that we were starting to feel worn out.

What was the problem? Here’s what I think: the duration of the sprint was stretched, thus the organizational framework was altered, and this needed compensation on the part of the team. The quiet stress resulted from the fact that we could not be certain when our work period would be over. Because we were unsure, the work started to drag. When work drags, it is noticeably stressful.

Good communication and flexibility disguised the importance of keeping the 4-5 hour framework. Sprint 5 should have been understood as two separate 4 hour sprints with the same goal rather than a single 8 hour sprint. That would have maintained the familiar rhythm of work and rest. When work gets hard, you depend on what is familiar, so have it be the right thing.

Also, no matter how wisely we had been working, we had truly been doing hard work for two days.

It was 18:00 and we had a working beta. Now we had to finish the game.

Sprint 6

18:00-20:00

To be done: Finishing touches

We worked effectively, but with additional effort. I started to take micro breaks to maintain mental sharpness. The fact that we were doing a lot of work in a short amount of time, plus the distortion of the framework on the previous sprint was catching up with us.

There was a small miscommunication between myself and Manuel. I did not understand how urgently he needed certain things, and thus did not prioritize them in a way favorable to him. That caused stress that could have been prevented.

There was also some question as to whether we should take a break for dinner. I did. The others did too, but with less determination. Dinner lasted only 30 minutes, and did not afford as much relaxation to the group as it could have. (The break was fine for me, but I am accustomed to this particular sort of work/rest discipline.)

Sprint 7 (Mini Sprint)

20:30-22:15

To be done: Finish the game!

We did our final work. Manuel and David tested the game.

Our game worked, and it was artistically unified. We were done.

(Photo: The team. We are exhausted, but not anywhere near dead!)

The owner of the museum had left some beer for us. We celebrated and had a project retrospective.

Here is what we accomplished:

On Saturday morning, we looked at the theme individually, come together at 9am, defined our project and began to construct the fundamentals. On Sunday, we completed most of the work but not enough to get a working prototype. On Monday, had more work to do than we had planned. It was difficult but very manageable. We finished at 22:15 rather than 22:00.

Manuel was the programmer, David the artist and sound effects guy. I composed the music and served as Scrum Master.

We worked more than 8-9 hours per day, but we took normal snack, lunch, and dinner breaks. We also slept normally. Manuel said, “You had us take breaks before we knew we needed them,” which means that I did my job well.

We performed all the Scrum events, following the rules and roles of Scrum as they written in the Scrum Guide, except for Product Owner. The Scrum framework functioned as expected. Indeed, the daily scrum took a more fluid form, sometimes a glance at the scrum board or a question to a team member, sometimes an official account of what we did, what we were going to do, and what stood in our way from doing it.

We made a complete, artistically successful, enjoyable game in 3 days. It is called APIS. You can play it for free here.

And listen to the soundtrack I wrote for the game:

We proved that Quantum Scrum is an effective framework for completing short projects. It affords the transparency to see the challenges we really need to deal with, and the firm framework that allows for free movement and adaptability of the project's ideals within it.

Here is what we could have done better:

As a programmer, Manuel had the heaviest workload. He got stressed especially in Sprint 6 when trying to work the music into the game. That is where he and I had a miscommunication. In future projects, we could communicate better about stress levels and priorities. (In retrospect, I think the stress set in during the middle of day 2, when he pulled off an incredible amount of work, then decided to work on the train after the sprint. Ideally, the workload should have been distributed so that he would not have needed to do such a big push.)

In general, Sprint 5 should have been better defined as 2 sprints. I think this sense of security would have allowed the sprint to unfold better, and for sprint 6 and 7 to be less strained also.

We all agreed that having a single post-it board would have made the visualization process more efficient also.

Quantum Scrum worked

It REALLY worked. Quantum Scrum allowed us to finish a complex project in well focused increments within a very short time. And our team stayed healthy, communicated well, and slept normal hours.

Of course, we did a lot of careful work in the beginning, even before the challenge started. When the clock was ticking, we were aware of what we could do as individuals and as a team, and equally aware of the tools we had to do it. Because of this, our progress was efficient and focused.

Also, we took breaks at consistent times and respected the needs of our bodies.

David pointed out that this intensive Ludum Dare is designed for young, able bodied people without families. The reason that late 20s/early 30s people like ourselves were able to commit to these three solid days of work was because we have understanding partners and/or families, careful time budgeting, and preventative measures against stress injuries.

In addition to proving that Quantum Scrum is an effective way to organize complex short projects, our Ludum Dare adventure also showed that the best way to make progress is through cycles of work and rest instead of breakneck efforts. No matter your age, this is an important thing to understand.

As a Scrum Master, the biggest challenge was to maintain an environment that encouraged the appropriate free movements and discouraged obstruction. Because of the 3 day constraint on this project, the work being done was critical. There was no time to redo a task or venture off in the wrong direction and need to re-orient yourself. Each step had to be the right one for the final product.

#scrum #agile project management #scaled agile framework #quantumscrum

[glendowen]

A Different Kind of Magic

Summary: At Kevin’s insistence, Allison and Thea visit the tea shop his boyfriend works at, and find themselves enchanted by the two witches that run it. The girls are oblivious, Matt is frustrated, and Kevin doesn’t understand why everything has to be such a big deal.

Author’s Note: Here’s my fic for @polyhymina for the @tfcfemslashnet exchange! She asked for a fantasy au, and so I ended up with a modern witch au! It’s not a fantasy filled as I had hoped it would be, but I hope you still like it! 

Word count: 2362

Pairings: Allison/Renee, Dan/Thea, Matt/Kevin (a new ship for me. I hope you don’t mind me including it!)

Warnings: None! 

Ao3

As Allison opened the door to the quaint little shop in front of her she could hear a gorgeous chiming sound from somewhere in the shop, but there was no bell above the door.

“You know, when Kevin said that the shop was owned by witches I didn’t think he was being serious.”

Allison shot Thea a look of shock before saying, “Is Kevin ever not serious about something? He laughed the other day when he was talking to Matt on the phone and I thought something was wrong.”

“I heard the name Matt, can I help you, ladies?”

Allison and Thea had never actually met Matt before, Kevin tended to keep anyone that he even remotely enjoyed the company of away from them, but he definitely looked like the kind of guy that could pull a laugh out of “actual grumpy old man” Kevin Day. He was tall, a little bit taller than Kevin, and extremely built. He and Kevin met in college when they were both on the soccer team, and despite their contrasting personalities, it didn’t take very long for them to get together after Kevin and Thea broke up.

“Hi, I’m Thea, and this is Allison,” Thea said with a smile, sticking her hand out to shake Matt’s, “Kevin has been telling us for weeks that we’d love it here, and so we figured we would check it out.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you two, I have a better idea of the faces behind the names besides ‘the blonde one’ and ‘the brunette one.’ Can I get you some tea?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

Matt scurried off somewhere to make their tea, and Allison and Thea sat down and pulled out the work they were planning on doing while in the shop. They had just finished setting everything up on the table when Matt came back with their drinks.

“Here you go. Renee and Dan should be down at some point, they’re probably upstairs messing around with plants for a new tea or something. If you need anything else, just call my name. Enjoy.”

His smile was bright and easy in a way that only came when you worked for it; Allison knew that Matt had a rocky past with drugs and partying from Kevin, but it was harder to connect that past with the carefree person she had just met.

Allison worked on designs for her newest collection, and Thea gave her input on the pieces and helped in whatever ways she could. Allison and Thea had met in college as well, playing for the girl's soccer team; while Thea had gone on to become a professional player and joined the US Olympic team, Allison had packed up her cleats and shinguards and joined the bustling world of fashion.

Allison could find aspects of the room they were in scattered within her pieces when she took a step back and truly observed them; there was a vine branching down across a dress like the ones in front of the window and the shade of pink of the shirt she had just drawn matched the flowers on the counter perfectly. The tea shop was exactly what she needed to bring her next collection together; she loved it here.

Dammit—this meant that she was going to have to admit to Kevin that he was right about something.

They had just finished up their second cups of tea when there were footsteps on the stairs that were far too light to belong to Matt. They were quickly followed by another set, and then suddenly the most attractive girls in the world had appeared.

The first girl was a few inches smaller than Allison kept her dark hair cut short. Her brown eyes sparkled with the promise of adventures and her smile reminded Allison of a lion stalking its prey. She appeared sportier than the girls that Allison usually went for, and, looking at Thea’s face, it seemed as though wouldn’t matter if Allison thought she was perfect because there was no way she was getting her.

The second girl had to be an actual angel. She had bleached white hair that ended at her shoulders, fading into pastel pinks and greens and blues that surrounded her face with a rainbow. She was tall and lean, a button-up shirt tucked into a black skirt with a cross necklace resting on her chest. She was warm and soft and Allison wanted to stare at nothing but her for the rest of time.

“Hello, I’m Dan, and this is Renee. We own this tea shop and we just wanted to come down and say hi, spend some time with our new customers. Do you mind if we sit with you while you work?”

Thea was apparently able to process the world around her despite the two goddesses/witches/angels in front of them and shot them a bright smile.

“We would love that! You seem like people that we would get along quite well with.”

The two girls joined them at their table, and soon Allison’s plans were entirely forgotten as they discussed their lives and their dreams and their favorite songs. After an hour or so the girls had divided themselves, and while Dan and Thea discussed soccer and the world of sports (Dan had also and played in college, and coached the local high school team alongside running the tea shop), Allison realized that she could find nothing wrong about Renee.

Renee had turned towards Allison’s designs and was looking over a few pieces when she said, “I really like what you did with this vine here, how it travels around the dress in cute, little-crooked corkscrews instead of spiraling around perfectly. And this pink and blue combination is incredible. Am I going to be able to wear them anytime soon?”

Renee had a soft voice that reminded Allison of a summer meadow filled with wildflowers, the colors gently flowing in the breeze, and she really wanted to hear more of it. There was a faint blush on her cheeks as if she were unsure about whether or not Allison appreciated her comments, and it made her freckles pop out.

“Thanks, I’m planning on featuring them next season, and I’ll make sure to send you one of each piece for free, on one condition.”

Renee had scooted further forward in her seat, and she was leaning so close to Allison that their knees were touching; Allison was no stranger to touch or to intimacy, but no amount of practice would have prepared her for the butterflies that came with the strange witch in front of her.

“And what would that be?”

The were whispering now as if there were more than two other people in the room and they had to keep this exchange secret.

“You have to let me see you in them, of course. What good is designing clothes if you never get to see people outside of models wearing them?”

Renee opened her mouth to respond to Allison when the bell went off again, and she and Dan snapped up.

“It’s been lovely talking to you both, and I hope you don’t mind our abrupt departure, but it’s time to close up shop, and if we stay open too late the plants aren’t happy. I hope we’ll see you again?”

Allison and Thea shared a look before Allison responded, “It’s no problem, really, we should be going anyway. It’s been great getting to know you, and your shop is absolutely adorable, so expect to see us here quite often.”

They swapped numbers just in case they couldn’t make it back to the shop soon enough and sped back home to tell Kevin everything. He wouldn’t care, and wouldn’t understand why they had to make such a big fuss about it, but they needed someone to talk to, and their pool of close friends happened to be ridiculously small.

Allison had texted Kevin to come over before they had left the tea shop, and so she pushed open the door to reveal Kevin swiping through his phone on their couch, his key to their place sitting next to him.

“So, how was the place?”

“Look, I’m not going to say this to you ever again, but you were right; I absolutely loved it there. The atmosphere, the decor, the witches, everything was perfect.”

He looked pleased with himself at Allison’s confession, and she almost regretted telling him, but Thea dove into the story of their day before either of them could process the interaction.

“And I think I may actually be in love,” Thea concluded, “They’re both incredible human beings, and Dan is the most attractive person I’ve ever met, no offense to the two of you. She’s just perfect, all fire and spirit without being cold or overbearing.”

Kevin raised his eyebrows at Allison as if he was expecting an explanation or a sign of solidarity, but she had no such thing for him. Instead, she decided that if Thea could gush about Dan, she could gush about Renee.

“Renee is so soft and warm, but it's not too childish or unrealistic. She’s kind and strong, and it’s quite possible that she is actually a goddess or an angel as well as a witch.”

“So ask them out.”

Kevin said it like it was the simplest thing in the world; like there was no other option for the two of them besides that.

“We can’t do that! What if they don’t like us back? I mean, they are actual goddesses who run the most aesthetically pleasing tea shop and can make flowers bloom at will, why would they want us?”

Kevin let out a sigh like he couldn’t believe that he was still friends with these two before shoving his keys back in his pocket and standing up.

“Look, there’s no harm in asking, and from what I’ve been hearing from Matt they are in love with the two of you as well. Now, I’d love to hear you gush about your soulmates, but I’m having dinner with Neil to discuss a new setup for practice and I need to leave now to be on time. See you.”

The door shut behind him with a final click, and the two girls fell onto their couch with a squee of delight, talking about their crushes like they were middle schoolers again.

Allison and Thea visited the tea shop and their newly found true loves every day for the rest of the week, and every day Kevin would ask them if they had actually asked them out yet, only to be frustrated and confused by their adamant ‘no’s.’

Kevin had off of practices on Saturday afternoons when he didn’t have a game, and so he decided to join the girls on their daily outing so he could pick up some new herbs and not so secretly make out with Matt in the back room like they were teenagers again.

The girls sit down in their usual seats, Allison laying out her designs while Thea pulled out a book, and Kevin headed towards where Matt usually hid out baking when there weren’t any proper customers.

Dan and Renee came down a few minutes after they had entered with new teas for them to try, and their conversations started up as they did like any other day.

Everything was going just like the six before it until Matt and Kevin walked through. They stopped their conversation when they noticed the four girls in front of them, and shared a look of mischief that Allison is unused to seeing on Kevin’s face.

“You know, Kevin, I think it’s ridiculous that they aren’t together already. They obviously like each other, and they’re already around each other all the time. It just makes sense,” Matt said as he passed by.

Dan and Renee pushed them out the door with some vines and slammed it behind them for good measure, before turning back to their previous conversations.

They heard the door creak open, and quickly, Kevin’s head appeared in the doorway.

“I’m leaving, but you all should just get together. Really.”

He shut the door behind him, and the girls were all left staring at the table, trying to find the nerve to ask the other girl out without embarrassing themselves.

Dan and Renee smiled at each other before forming a bouquet of flowers (shades of pink for Allison and white with accents of dark blue for Thea) and turning to face their respective crushes.

Allison couldn’t quite hear what Dan was saying to Thea, but as she went to tuck one of the flowers behind her ear, Thea had pulled Dan in for a kiss.

She was a bit more preoccupied with the blushing goddess in front of her who was attempting to hide behind the gorgeous bouquet in front of her.

Renee pushed them out in front of her with a timid smile before speaking.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me. Like, on a date that isn’t in this tea shop for once. We can go out and watch classic movies since I know that they’re your favorites, and you can dress me up and I’ll model some of the clothes that you’ve designed, and we can spend time together without the pretense of working.”

Allison beamed at the soft, warm, strong girl in front of her and pulled her in for a kiss.

“I’d love to spend an evening with you, Renee, and many more after that.”

Renee’s smile could have fueled cities it was so bright, and with that, she pulled her in for another kiss, as Thea did the same to Dan.

The flowers around them all blossomed, growing as big, and as bright, and as beautiful as possible; the room was a plethora of colors and smells that all ran parallel to the emotions running around inside the four girls in the tea shop.

They all send Matt and Kevin thank you cards. The boys try their hardest to avoid I told you so’s. (They don’t do a very good job.)

#all for the game #aftg #tfc #tfcfemslashexchange #grandpasweeklychallenge #allison reynolds #renee walker #dan wilds #thea muldani #kevin day #matt boyd #issy writes #renison #matt x kevin #dan x thea #princess of bets #good bad person #pretty in orange #can and will crush you #puts the exy in sexy #neil's best friend

[thecineastes-blog]

Grand Prix RPDR RuView: Reality Stars!: The Rusical (S06E05)

Break out your selfie stick and get ready to break the internet! For Grand Prix RPDR RuView, we’ll be giving you the overview of each episode, top moments of each episode, the shadiest moment of each episode, our favorite queen of the each episode, our least favorite queen of each episode, best looks on the runway, and our predictions for next week.

The queens re-enter the workroom to see Charlie Hides’s lipstick goodbye...which is quickly erased by Trinity. I miss when the queens would actually read aloud the departing words of their newly eliminated sister. But that seems to have gone the way of the dinosaur. Trinity does not seem to be the least bit sentimental and wants to focus on what’s ahead. The queens seem so bummed that Charlie did not put up a fight. Trinity is also quick to clarify that she had wished she had been put into the bottom two for her performance and not for her questionable leadership. (personally, I thought she was in the bottom two for both those reasons but I digress…)

While everyone does seem genuinely happy about Sasha and Shea’s win, Alexis wants to become the cream to everyone else’s milk this season and rise to the top; Nina seems like she’d pull a Nomi Malone on any of her fellow contestants if given the opportunity.

 The next day RuPaul drops in on the queens, sans her usual cryptic video mail. However, it does seem like our prayers (as well as those letter writing campaigns and hunger strikes) have paid off, we actually get a mini-challenge! Judt in time to be considered an Easter miracle! And on top of the that the Pit Crew is here! This season they are sponsorless, but have two new members, Yadir and Jared!

The queens had to shoot fun selfie photos with the Pit Crew in their summer ensembles. The photos were really fun to watch and made me realize how much I missed the mini challenges. Alexis is chosen as the winner, and will spearhead the maxi challenge in Kardashian: the Musical! Since Alexis won she got to choose not only her role, but everyone else’s.

The show seems to have gotten so disjunctive this season (and actually since All Stars 2). Drag Race used to follow a very linear pattern, there was the She Mail/RuMail, the mini challege, the preperation/rehearsal on the main challenge, performing the main challenge, the runway, and finally the lip sync. There just needs to be more a more cohesion for the rest of the series, because it’s getting ridiculous.

Alexis chooses the role self-proclaimed momager™ Kris Jenner; the other casting goes as follows, Eureka as North West, Cynthia as Kim, Farrah as Kylie, Valentina as Kendall, Aja as Kourtney, Sasha as Lindsay Lohan, Trinity as Paris Hilton, Peppermint as Britney Spears, Shea as Blac Chyna, and Nina as Khloe. Nina, originally wanting the role of Blac Chyna is already complaining about not receiving and the rehearsals have yet to start! 

Eureka, has had her ups and downs these past episodes. ESPECIALLY since she has to use crutches. She is being a real Pollyanna about the situation, which is refreshing. As the queens are listening to their music and trying to get their lyrics down, Nina keeps going on and on about how unfair it felt not getting the role she wanted. Nina is as salty as the Pacific ocean. If this were Dreamgirls, she’d be playing Effie White.

Peppermint said what everyone else was thinking, there are THREE Black actors to the ONE Black role, so two people are gonna end up being shafted! I’m actually surprised they did not have Brandy as a character in the musical, since Kim working for her led to her meeting, dating and making the sex tape with Ray J.

The choreography session, led by Todrick Hall was well...clunky. Apparently, it was an intensive two-day ordeal...and some people took it to more than others. Eureka is making glam happen, she is applying rhinestones on ballet slippers to make it that more glam!

Aja has experienced a true Hannukah miracle with thinking she got a slimmer nose. Eureka also ate some humble pie and asks for Sasha and Valentina’s forgiveness. They both open up about their eating disorders, and even Shea talks about her bulimia battle.  RuPaul’s Best Group Therapy Race indeed!

For the musical, I thought they all gave a strong performance but I’m sad they did not perform Kim Kardashian Meets the Easter Bunny: an American Play (and yes that is a real play, available on Amazon).

Ru comes down the runway in a shimmery silver number (is this becoming her signature color?); I’m happy to see hair and makeup and back to normal. So Meghan Trainor is wearing a unicorn onesie. Did she not have a stylist or at least ONE gay friend to talk to her about this? It just looks like she got up out of bed and ran to the studio to film the episode.

For the musical, I thought they all gave a strong performance but I’m sad they did not perform Khloe Kardashian Meets the Easter Bunny: an American Play (and yes that is a real play, available on Amazon).

Ru comes down the runway in a shimmery silver number (is this becoming her signature color?); I’m happy to see hair and makeup and back to normal. So Meghan Trainor is wearing a unicorn onesie. Did she not have a stylist or at least ONE gay friend to talk to her about this? It just looks like she got up out of bed and ran to the studio to film the episode.

Runway Over-Ru:

Category is Faux Fur Fabulous! First up is Peppermint, wearing a whole lot of pink (are her signature colors Blush and Bashful?). The skirt was very reminiscent of her ‘Naughty Nightie’ look, although the skirt fit her much better. Her faux fur piece reminded me of cotton balls. All in all, I was not a fan. 

Did Kimora leave behind her Princess Banana Lady costume? Because that's what Trinity was serving on the runway (minus the first world sob story about not wearing padding.) the added nose ring and accessories were kind of a cross between Coco Montrese’s ‘Ru-animal’ look and Season one and ‘All-Stars’ alum Shannel. Sasha Velour was serving Russian dressing realness in a Kozachok inspired look. 

The faux fur pants and hat were spot on. Well, after a chilly night of clubbing…” was Alexis’ Look for this runway, although the “reveal” was disappointing. Had she gone with a crystal encrusted mini dress or hell even a nude illusion like a Central Park flasher would’ve been more satisfying than that dress from Forever 21.

Cynthia’s Faux fur look was a lot. It was a two in one, it was mesh, it was faux fur, it had long sleeves, she had on gloves, she had on thigh high boots. Too much. Next up is Nina Bo’nina Brown Mountbatten-Windsor in a great look reminiscent of Mary J. Blige. This look (almost) compensated for Nina’s attitude this episode. 

Aja’s look could best be described as holographic Hoth stripper.Not my favorite. I did like the lavender hair and earmuffs, but wasn’t living for the rest of the ensemble. Looking like a telenovela villain in a snakeskin patterned gown, faux fur stole and wild kingdom jewels was Valentina. I liked the look, but wish it was more faux fur.

Two words: muppet jacket. That’s what I’d use to describe Farrah’s Faux fur piece. That in combination with the holo printed booty shorts, highlighter green color (Hello, Michelle Visage!),  weird windchime foil necklace and Red s-wave wig-it was a confusing look.  I prefer Farrah’s retro showgirl vibe from last episode, it definitely suits her better.

Shea’s neon vinyl faux fur monster look was IT. It reminded me of Naomi Small’s neon runway look-which I also love. Were the Misfits’s missing a member? Speaking of 1980s kids Glam Rock, Eureka looked like she was straight out of ‘Jem’ and I wasn’t mad about it. From the neon, faux fur, hair, leotard and face paint- it quite literally looked like something Pizzaz would wear (minus the crutches).

Farrah and Cynthia are placed at the bottom two, and effectively were polar opposites with their performances; Cynthia performance was high energy but it was clear she did not know the words. Farrah’s performance was lackluster and somewhat boring. But I was clutching my set of Easter Sunday pearls when Eureka was sent home! 

In hindsight, it made perfect sense, but RuPaul (and her lawyers) would be remiss (and held responsible) if they did not give Eureka time to heal. Untucked was just really weird when Alexis got on her pedestal about feeling that she did not feel the other contestants tried to help her with her runway look? Ugh.

Jonny’s Favorite Moments:

Mamma Mia!: Alexis Michelle as Kris Jenner nothing short of epic! She was present on stage, even when she wasn’t the main feature, was amazing.

Peppermint Twist: There is nothing better than Peppermint’s commentary on what is going on. My favorite parts of any episode.

Jonny’s Favorite Shadiest Moments:

Tony! Toni! Toné!: Will we be seeing Kardashian: the Musical make it to the great white way….don’t hold your breathe.

The Last Unicorn: Unofficial Commandment for RPDR Judges that I think Meghan Trainor did not realize, DRESS TO IMPRESS!

It’s the Great Menorah, Charlie Brown: I was glad we were able to witness a Hanukkah miracle! Aja’s nose becoming smaller! L'Chaim!

Jonny’s Favorite Queen:

Eureka, she will definitely will be missed this season. There were times she was downright grating, and others where she was very sympathetic and endearing. This episode, where we saw her hobbling around on crutches and wheelchairs with an ACL tear and not being the least bit salty or bitter? Take notes everybody, this is the attitude to have!

Jonny’s Least Favorite Queen:

Nina’s sourpuss demeanor this ENTIRE episode was really disconcerting. Come on, she was cast as Khloé Kardashian and was acting like she had to play Brody Jenner! And since Khloé is such a fan of the show (and a former judge to boot) I just wish Nina would have put more effort to outshine her cast members. I can see why people have called her a Debbie Downer

Predictions:

It’s FINALLY Snatch Game; this maxi challenge separates the boys from the men (or something like that). Let the odds be ever in your favor darlings.

Anais’ Favorite Moments:

Crystal Crazy: Valentina’s love of crystals and how stoning “feeds her soul” in ‘Untucked’ was adorable.

Unbreakable: Although she wrecked her knee in the Cheerleading challenge, Eureka didn’t let it bring her or her attitude down. (Side note: FYI Ru-no cheerleading challenges ever again.)

Anais’ Favorite Shadiest Moments:

Basic Instinct: How exactly was it the other Queens’ faults that Alexis wore a basic dress on the runway? It’s a competition! They’re going to be cordial but they’re not going to dress you.

Unicorn Tears: Was Meghan Trainor’s stylist on vacation? Really, a unicorn onesie?

Anais’ Favorite Queen:

Eureka and Valentina. Eureka’s positive attitude about her injury and not letting it hinder her in the competition was great-and to be honest I wish she had spent more time being like that, than coming off as desperate for camera time. (Bring positive Eureka for Season 10!) Valentina giving Farrah a bit of tough love was just what the Doctor ordered.

Anais’ Least Favorite Queen:

Farrah Moan and Nina Bo’nina Brown Day-Lewis. Farrah’s whining and cry baby demeanor is getting a bit irritating. She needs to toughen up when receiving constructive criticism-the 5 G’s girl. (Good God Girl Get a Grip). Nina’s attitude was ultra-salty and she spent a majority of her time complaining about not being Blac China, as opposed to taking the role she was given and making the most of it. I understand Nina’s faced a lot of opposition in the ATL drag scene, but she really should be showing her haters that she’s H-E-R-E bitch and showing them that they can’t bring her down.  It shouldn’t be a surprise to her that other contestants are questioning her desire to be in the competition.

Predictions:

Snatch Game! FINALLY. It’s really the time where we’ve hit mid season and it becomes survival of the fittest. Being safe isn’t enough anymore.

#RPDR #RPDR 9 #RuPaul's Drag Race #RuPaul #RuPaul Charles #Michelle Visage #todrick hall #Meghan Trainor #Aja #alexis michelle #Farrah Moan #nina bo'nina brown #peppermint #Sasha Velour #Shea Couleé #Trinity Taylor #Valentina #cynthia lee fontaine #eureka #Eureka O’Hara

[catsend]

i decided to infodump about my RWBY OCs, Team STAR under the cut!! they’re part of a conjoined alternate universe with my friends and we’re gonna have our own little story/AU and it’s gonna be awesome

this post is a Work In Progress because i don’t have the mental energy to come up with everyone’s backstory and semblance in one go. feel free to hmu with suggestions, thoughts, comments, ideas, whatever i love to communicate

(“Partnered with” refers to Beacon’s method of pairing up students and does not necessarily mean they are in a relationship)

Spica Viridian

She/her. Leader of Team STAR. Partnered with Arcturus.

Personality: Kind, enthusiastic, cheerful, warm, loving. She's shy around new people. She’s definitely the “team mom” type and works hard to keep everyone together. She can’t stand arguing mostly because she has a bit of a temper that can grab a hold of her and swallow her up, so she tends to fight back by appearing as mellow and soft as she can. Her biggest weakness is when things don’t go her way, she tends to spiral out of control pretty quickly. 

Name significance: Spica is a star in the spring triangle. Viridian is a shade of green.

Likes: Flowers, nature, sunlight, adventure, fashion, Arcturus, fantasy, the sky, rabbits, peaches, strawberries 

Weapon:  Javelin/crossbow combination named Starose Blossom

Semblance: Sun’s out guns out Increases her physical strength, defense, and speed when the sun is high, especially outdoors. Decreases her physical strength, defense, and speed when the sun is not out. Fighting indoors is actually worse than fighting at night, as the moonlight is reflected sunlight so it makes her pretty much average strength. Her first strategy in any indoors fight is to blast a hole in the ceiling.

Backstory: Spica grew up in Mistral with her two siblings - an older sister and younger brother - and their mother. Her father died when she was younger. Her mother works as a botanist as well as growing medicinal herbs, so Spica grew up learning about and loving plants. Her older sister, Heather, decided to go to Haven to become a Huntress with the goal of travelling outside the kingdoms and studying the plant life and world outside the kingdoms for clues on how to better humanity, and perhaps find a way to expand civilization. Spica didn’t want to be left alone, and had an interest in Heather’s goals as well, but Heather insisted it was too dangerous for her to become a Huntress. So, unbeknownst to her family, Spica traveled off to Beacon to pursue becoming a Huntress herself.

Pinterest aesthetic/moodboard for Spica

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Leah Tearose

They/them or she/her. Partnered with Rebecca.

Personality:  Fun, creative, playful, mischievous, loyal, clever. Leah hides behind a very silly persona but is actually highly perceptive and one of the most tricky and strategic members of Team STAR. Despite all they’ve been through, Leah is still able to genuinely smile and loves to be around other people, though with their friendliness comes a slight edge of caution. Leah is the type to see the good in everyone and believes people are mostly good. That being said, she loves animals even more, especially puppies. They’re an artist and paints a lot, often doesn’t bother to clean up and just walks around covered in paint.

Name significance: Leah was loosely taken from Denebola, a star in the spring triangle. (Leah is pronounced LAY-uh). Tea rose is a shade of pink.

Likes: Painting, red, hearts, puppies, other people, romantic comedies, cherries, shirley temples, roller coasters, high places, art, pop/electro music

Weapon: A lance that unfurls into a metallic whip. Can be loaded with different kinds of dust - Leah’s favorites are fire and ice. Named Denebolance.

Semblance: Denebola symbolizes misfortune and disgrace... I wanna do something with that. Ideas?

Backstory: Leah’s story is that of an inverted tragedy. She started with nothing and rose up from the ashes. Leah is a pillar of strength and resolution - they’ve been beaten down every step of their childhood but now they’re free and happy and surrounded by love and able to do the things they love. I haven’t worked out the specifics of Leah’s backstory yet.

Pinterest aesthetic/moodboard for Leah

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Arcturus White

He/him. Member of Team Star. Partnered with Spica.

Not pictured: black wolf tail because I decided to make him a wolf faunus.

Personality: Quiet, moodly, easily frustrated, temperamental, sensitive. Has a carefully cultivated facade. He basically is a “jerk with a heart of gold” but he doesn’t intend to be a jerk; he just has bad social skills and a rough past. Spica was the first person he really opened up to and he cares about her immensely. Just like Spica, he has quite the temper, but his is more slow burn while hers is more explosive and dies quickly. He has little interest in people outside the small group of people he cares about (all of Team STAR and a few others) 

Name significance: Arcturus is a star in the spring triangle. White is a color.

Likes: Black cats, music, technology, stormy weather, outer space, science, science fiction, data and coding, the moon, abstract art, Spica

Weapon: Kusarigama. The sickle part is pretty big and the weight at the end is spiky. He has to quickly maneuver and jump around in his fighting style to use both the sickle and the weight effectively while avoiding and utilizing the chain that holds them together. The sickle has a pistol attached. Named Fenris Howler.

Semblance: He can blend in completely with the shadows - that is, wherever there are shadows, he can become temporarily invisible. It’s like he becomes one with them. Obviously, he prefers to fight in places with low light and lots of shadows. Bright lights and complete darkness are his enemies.

Backstory: Arcturus is from Menagerie. He was an orphan who fled from the orphanage and fell in with the wrong crowd - he actually spent some of his teenage years in a gang. After a falling out with the leader that led to someone’s death (I’m still thinking about this) he decided to run to Beacon, where he thought they wouldn’t follow him. Naturally an albino, he dyed his hair from white to dark purple as a semi-disguise, just in case. This is all really up in the air I just came up with this on the spot please help me

Pinterest aesthetic/moodboard for Arcturus

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Rebecca Regulus

She/her. Member of Team STAR. Partnered with Leah.

Personality:  Vain, confident, intelligent, resourceful, and elegant. Has a royal air to her. Unlike many, her vanity is not at the expense of other people - she loves other people almost as much as she loves herself, and she’s rather kind. She’d rather build people up to be (almost) as glorious as her than tear them down. She has a knack for leadership and responsibility, and was surprised she wasn’t the leader of team STAR. 

Name significance: The hex color #663399 is called Rebecca Purple. Regulus is a star in the spring triangle. 

Likes: Girls (in a lesbian way), gold, leadership, history, architecture, deer, chess, beauty, lilies, culture / anthropology, learning, helping others find their own beauty, victory

Weapon: A golden broadsword. Not sure what other modifications? She’s the type to just use a regular sword and be badass with just that. Named Aurum Caliburn.

Semblance: Undecided. Thoughts/ideas?

Backstory: She was actually born pretty poor. Her parents “didn’t want her” so she was raised by her aunt. She lived on the poverty line for most of her life, but her sheer determination, hard work, and intelligence helped her become a perfect student and get her an entry to Beacon (also a full scholarship? Does Beacon cost money?) She’ll admit that she’s mostly here for the money, but not wholly for selfish reasons - she wants a better, more comfortable life for herself, her aunt, and her cousins. She’s made some money with her skills already and puts on a pretense of being already rich - it makes her feel more confident.

Pinterest aesthetic/moodboard for Rebecca

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Team Attacks & Relationships

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Arcturus x Spica 

Combo name: Total Eclipse (using their semblances in combination), Nature’s Howl (using Arcturus’s chain and weight to swing Spica’s javelin?)

Interpersonal relationship: The two eventually end up dating. Spica is the first person Arcturus really trusts and opens up to. Spica is caring enough to see Arcturus has good intentions but doesn’t know how to deal with people, and Arcturus appreciates that someone actually cares enough to get to know them. They both have anger issues that manifest in different ways, but the two are able to calm each other down most of the time. Their relationship is healthy and built on mutual trust, kindness, and understanding.

___

Spica x Leah 

Combo name: Painted Roses (some kind of combo with Spica’s javelin and Leah’s whip used in combination to corner the enemy)

Interpersonal relationship: Spica really takes a shine to Leah’s silliness and creativity, and Leah likes painting Spica’s flowers. The two get along very well and enjoy hanging out together. Common pastimes include going to see movies together and going to fairs/festivals and art shows. When Spica gets overwhelmed or upset, Leah tries to calm her down; at first, Leah became very afraid when Spica showed her not-so-pretty side, but over time as they grew closer Leah learned to trust Spica and that Spica would not do anything to hurt them.

___

Spica x Rebecca

Combo name: Royal Garden (gotta think of what they can do together)

Interpersonal relationship: Spica respects Rebecca’s intelligence and confidence. Rebecca holds respect for Spica as well, however, there was a bit of tension when Rebecca did not get the leadership position. Although Rebecca isn’t too self-important, she is vain and took the news kind of badly. She tried not to hold it against Spica and uplift it, but she found it hard to commit to that and had a bit of internal struggle. She still holds a ghost of a grudge though the two work together quite well. They’re friends, but not as close as the others on the team.

___

Leah x Arcturus

Combo name: Blood Moon (that’s a terrifying name but a blood moon is when the moon appears red and red is leah’s color and arcturus is a wolf so the moon so)

Interpersonal relationship: Arcturus finds Leah a bit childish at first, but admires their cheerfulness. Upon learning of Leah’s harsh past, Arcturus begins to truly respect how easygoing and bubbly Leah can be even after going through such hardship. They share details of their past and form a close friendship built on the fact that they’re both trying to move on from their respective pasts. Leah’s cheerfulness begins to rub off on Arcturus, who becomes more laidback and even a tiny bit goofier (though it manifests in the form of sarcasm, usually). They genuinely enjoy each others’ company.

___

Leah x Rebecca

Combo name: Queen of Hearts

Interpersonal relationship: Being partners, Leah and Rebecca have had a lot of time to work together and get to know each other. Their friendship got off to a rocky start - Rebecca got frustrated with Leah’s messing around and not quite being as serious. Eventually, after having a heart-to-heart about Rebecca’s past and how she needed to do well and how she grew up on the poverty line, Leah became more understanding and promised to be more serious during training. The two formed a friendship where opposites attract - Rebecca influences Leah to be more serious and work hard, while Leah helps Rebecca relax and just enjoy herself instead of being so uptight all the time. They have a mutual appreciation of art, and Rebecca is always happy to pose for Leah’s paintings.

___

Arcturus x Rebecca

Combo name: Purple Prose (Arcturus wanted something less pretentious but Rebecca insisted)

Interpersonal relationship: The two seemed to get along right off the bat. Arcturus is quiet and not good with people, but he can respect Rebecca’s methodical and commanding personality. He thinks her whole fancy/elegance thing is kinda dumb, and she thinks he’s too brooding and emo, but they do get along pretty nicely. They almost have something like a sibling relationship, and when they argue, it’s usually over something stupid like their attack name.

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Art

Arcturus sketch by @clokworke-arts

Arcturus, Spica, and 2 of my friend’s OCs by @truechastiefol

#rwby ocs #rwby oc #ocs #oc tag #team star #spica viridian #leah tearose #arcturus white #rebecca regulus