#I finished this a bit ago but kept forgetting to scan it lol

[neptunelindsey]

“I kiss her and I skateboard away!”

#figayda #fig faeth #ayda aguefort #fantasy high #dimension 20 #figueroth faeth #my art #artists on tumblr #I finished this a bit ago but kept forgetting to scan it lol #I adore them so much

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 11

First

Previous

Next

Person: Lol there’s immortals and they’ve come back to life multiple times, why is anyone surprised magic exists Me, who hasn’t read the comics in years and has forgotten everything: not canon anymore. I’ve decided

~~~

She looked around at the soft browns and reds of the café. The scenery was pleasant, but it had very little overlap with any styles she wanted for any of her customers.

This vague looking around quickly morphed into staring blankly at her sketchbook for almost an hour straight.

Marinette groaned and rested her head on the table, closing her eyes.

“Need more coffee already?” Came Tim’s voice.

She gave a tiny shake of her head. “Need new scenery,” she murmured into her arms.

Somehow, though, Tim heard her. The sound of his fingers on the keyboard stopped for a moment in surprise, and the café almost sounded incomplete without it.

He reached over and ruffled her hair. “Has anyone given you a tour of the city yet?”

“Nope,” she said. She’d gotten a pretty good look at the place on patrols, but he couldn’t know that.

There was a shifting sound and she looked up to find Tim taking out his phone. “What’re you...?”

He put the phone to his ear and tipped his head back as it rang. Eventually, he said: “Hey, I’m going to take the day off.”

There was a long silence from the other line. She winced as the person on the other sound screamed, she hadn’t wanted Tim to get scolded for missing --

“Yes, I’m fine. No, it’s not a prank. I’ve met someone -- not like that, Jay -- and I’m giving her a tour of the city. She just got here from France a while ago.”

The bit of chatter was cut off abruptly by a smashing sound from the phone. Tim didn’t seem all that concerned about it, though, so Marinette just listened in anxiously.

The man’s eyebrows knit together. “Yes, I met her at the coffee shop, Dick. What does it matter?” Then he blinked. His eyes found their way to her for a second and then he gave a short laugh. “You’re insane. Can I have time off or not?”

The chorus of ‘Yes!’ Please!’’s was so loud that Marinette heard it from across the table.

Tim grinned and set his phone down. “Guess who has a free day now.”

Marinette tapped her finger to her chin thoughtfully. “Who knows.” She stood slowly and glanced at their coffees.

He rolled his eyes and got them each another cup. With that, they were off.

“So, I guess I should ask what colors or ideas you have going.”

She sighed. “I’m thinking of green for Adrien. Yellow, black, and white for the Bourgeois-es. And for Jagged...” She waved her hands vaguely as she tried to think of how to translate the word. “A lot-ness.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Flashiness?”

“Sure.”

He closed his eyes and thought for a minute, then nodded to himself. “Right, I have an idea for Adrien’s.” His face reddened slightly. “I probably should have asked if you were willing to come, first, huh?”

Her head tipped to the side as she considered this. She really had only talked to the man a few times, could she really trust him? He’d gotten her coffee a few times without spiking it, which was a plus. He was also very obviously rich, which meant robbing her wouldn’t do much for him.

Her mind wandered back to how he’d dodged a punch the other day, though. His reaction time had been as quick as, if not faster, than hers. He was pretty well built, too. He had to know some kind of self-defense.

Still, he’d taken a day off of work for her. From the sound of the people on the other end of the line, this wasn’t a common occurrence. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and nodded.

He smiled and reached out to ruffle her hair.

Then, they were off.

Within a few blocks was the gardens dedicated to Poison Ivy. They stepped inside and Marinette went to her bag to pay on instinct, but Tim walked straight past the ticket counter and waved her along.

She frowned confusedly. “Don’t we need to pay...?”

“Nope, c’mon,” he chirped.

She glanced at the salesperson, who was a teen boy. He’d barely been awake when they walked in, but now he was wide awake. They had gone bolt upright at the sound of Tim’s voice, and were now stealing glances at the pair of them anxiously.

She slowly stepped towards Tim. Just who was this guy?

These nerves dissipated the moment she stepped into the atrium. She’d seen it from above a few times, but that was nothing compared to the way it was to be within it. Her eyes filcked from flower to flower as a wide smile stretched across her face.

She went to the nearest bench and started sketching for Adrien. Clothing for guys is always easier, they’re always expected to be in a suit, it’s just what you do on the suit that matters.

Tim was leaning in the doorway, absently scrolling through messages. His face was getting more and more tired by the second, but that wasn’t particularly weird for him so Marinette didn’t bother to question it.

Besides, if she didn’t get her ideas down on paper soon, she’d probably forget them.

She finished and kept walking through the rooms, smiling to herself. She’d gotten an idea for Jagged and Penny’s outfits in a room with bioluminescents. Then, after seeing an almost golden flower, had been able to get some inspiration for both Audrey and Chloe’s.

She beamed at all the designs. She was sure to change them over the four months, but it was good that she had general ideas for what she wanted to have them look like early on.

Finally, she looked at Tim. He’d been following her through the rooms at a casual pace, his face stuck in his phone.

She rolled her eyes and pulled the phone down, snapping him from his haze.

“This is your day off, remember? Stop working.”

He sighed. “This is my personal phone. My family is just being stupid.”

She gave him a skeptical look and he finally let go, letting Marinette check for herself.

Her eyes scanned over the messages without really paying attention to what the words meant and she nodded slowly. The tone was far too casual for anything for work.

She had started to hand back the phone when she finally processed some of the words she’d seen.

“’Bring her to dinner’?” She questioned, whipping the phone back around to scroll through them more thoroughly.

He gave little more than a weak shrug. “They think that you’re some kind of miracle since you got me out of work and want you to meet everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“In my family. There’s a lot of them. Don’t worry, you’re booked for at least the next twenty years from what I’ve told them.”

She raised an eyebrow and continued looking through it. “They’re good people?”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I want you to -- hey!”

She had started typing. They sprinted in circles around the tiny atrium, Marinette still struggling to type with all the movement and Tim trying his hardest to catch her off-guard so he could get his phone back.

She hit send. The moment he heard the text tone, he stopped cold. He groaned. “Noooooooo.”

Marinette grinned. “I’ll see you at dinner in two days.”

“Nooooooo.”

“Yeeeees.”

Tim glared at her for a few seconds and swiped back his phone to check that the text she had sent had said that. He pouted a bit when it was, then whipped his head around to look at her, a dangerous look in his eyes: “I’m not paying for your coffee anymore.”

“Nooooooo!”

~~~

Taglist~

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit

#timinette #timari #maribat #satisfied #marinette dupain cheng #tim drake #ladybug #red robin

[the-pale-goddess]

The Talk - Ethan Ramsey x MC (Tiffany Addams)

And I’ve got nothing left to lose, besides you

I’ve already lost you once, what more could you do?

Warnings: a few curse words, a bottle of wine, just a mere mention of some adult themes? nothing filthy this time – what happened to me???

Author’s note: This fic is the second part of We’ll Talk About It Later two shot based on OH2, Ch 8+9 > the first part: Breaking The Habit (NS*FW)

It’s been an emotional rollercoaster, but... the talk™ is finally here. I’ve put so much work into this and I don’t think I’d ever be satisfied with the result so...I’m just posting the last version and never reading it again lol  

Taglist - none of the tags worked last time, so I’ll post the taglist separately in a reblog

_____

We'll talk about it later.

Tiffany's mind was racing at a speed she couldn't control. She stared out the window the whole ride from her apartment to Ethan's, stealing only occasional glances in his direction. They didn't talk much in the car and she was grateful he didn't push the small talk through. The young doctor was reluctant to burst the bubble prematurely and this soothing silence proved to be a source of cold comfort.

Everything seemed so volatile...She needed them to be real now more than ever. But the fear of another heartbreak was eating her alive. Sure, there's been an evident shift in his behavior. As the walls of his stern professionalism have been gradually crumbling down, the list of their unethical pursuits kept on growing – he let her back in, he confided in her, he was showing her affection, he kissed her twice, he comforted her, he fucked her brains out just a moment ago in his office...But he never said he changed his mind about the nature of their relationship. We'll talk about it later. And later was finally coming their way.

„So...Your friends weren't home?” Ethan was the one to break the silence and Tiffany's stomach jumped.

„Yeah, Sienna & Elijah are doing the night rounds. Jackie's probably out & about. I'm not sure about Aurora.” She tried to keep her thoughts in check by recognizing the neighborhood. They must've been just a few minutes away from his apartment.

„What about Lahela?” Tiffany cocked her brow and looked at him with arms folded across her chest.

„What about him?” Her giggle received a reproving side-eye.

„He's not living with you?” Ethan's hidden agenda behind this question was blatant and made Tiffany laugh even harder.

„No. He's just always around, you know, as a part of the gang. Just like...” Her voice suddenly cracked and she swallowed loud before finishing the sentence. „Kyra.”

Ethan's hand slipped on her knee, giving it a comforting squeeze as they were driving into the underground parking in his building. He parked in his spot and turned the engine off.

„Tiffany...” He took her hand in his, their fingers entwined tightly. They shifted in their seats to face one another. There was something different about his smile, something warmer than what she was used to. „Do you remember your first weeks at Edenbrook?”

„How could I ever forget?”

„I've made the beginning of your internship truly horrible, haven't I?” The roughness of his fingers far removed from the gentle touch of his thumb against her silken skin.

„Well...I wouldn't say it was that horrible. But I have to admit you were extremely demanding and harsh. Not to mention you had a real mean streak.”

„I was an asshole, Tiffany. Let's face it.” She dropped her jaw in surprise, but didn't oppose. „I played on your emotions and pushed you to your limits.”

„You wanted me to be the best doctor I could be, I...”

„You had the potential to be the best even without my supervision. Besides, my motives are not the case here.” He interrupted her with a shake of his head. „The point is...I pushed you hard. And you always pushed back. You have a habit of finding a way through all the mud and the dirt. Everything you've experienced only made you stronger and prepared you for the worst. You can do anything, Rookie.”

„Ethan...” She smiled at him with teary eyes and leaned closer.

„I suppose it's not much of a comfort when your friend is dying and you're more than aware of the grim prognosis...But we'll do whatever it takes to save Kyra. And you'll be the strongest support by her side.”

„Didn't we establish earlier that the idea is to stop me from crying, not make me all weepy again?” They shared a laugh while Tiffany tried to keep her tears at bay.

„We did. I just thought you needed a reminder of how powerful you are.” Without a warning, he captured her lips in a sweet, long kiss. Her heart was ready to jump out of her chest.

„I feel reminded. Your mission was a howling success, Doctor.” She muttered between a few quick pecks on the lips.

„Have you seriously considered a different outcome?” His scoff earned a roll of her eyes.

„Oh, boy...I suppose your ego will be joining us at the dinner?”

„My ego will cook the dinner. Quit complaining, let's go upstairs.” She gave him that look before they finally got out of the car. The you're fucking unbelievable look, the one that always gave him an unhealthy sense of pride. Truth be told, he was justifiably proud of himself this time – shutting Tiffany Addams up is quite an accomplishment.

***

„Jenner's in Providence again?” Tiffany asked while taking her heels off. A sigh of relief escaped her mouth when her bare feet touched the cold marble floor.

„Yes. My father's babysitting him.” With a simple hand gesture Ethan invited her to follow him further inside. He watched her walk by his side in a skintight jacket dress. He noticed the change in her clothing back in the car, but it was impossible to admire it in the dim glow of the streetlamps. He had to catch up.

„I miss this fella and his cute little paws.” She pouted with disappointment as they moved towards the kitchen.

„Don't worry, he'll be back next week.” Tiffany flushed under Ethan's intense gaze. The unspoken promise of whatever could happen next startled them both.

„Is that an invitation?” She leaned on the counter trying not to show how nervous she was. But Ethan looked right through her. He took a step forward, approaching her with a similar trepidation, and twirled a strand of her hair around his finger.

„It is. Mind that Jenner tends to extend his walks – you'll need a pair of comfortable shoes for that.”

„Noted. I'll be ready.” She nodded, cursing herself as a reminder to stay stane. But it was already too late, she was under his spell.

„I need a shower before we start demolishing my kitchen.” Ethan looked her up and down, his eyes were trailing over her curves while his thoughts tormented him with the vivid memory of the silky skin underneath her clothes. „Would you...like to join me?”

Tiffany hesitated with the answer. A part of her demanded immediate answers, the other urged her to throw herself into his arms. She bit her lip so hard she probably bruised it, if Ethan's teeth haven't already done that before.

„As tempting as it sounds...If I'd choose to shower with you we wouldn't be able to keep our hands off each other.” She returned the hungry look and smiled like a wicked witch. „And I came here for that talk you owe me.”

„You're right.” Tiffany could sense the heightened tension in Ethan's voice, no matter how much he tried to hide it. „First things first.”

„First things first.” She repeated after him. „Besides, I freshened up real quick in my apartment. I can actually play the assistant chef while you're showering.”

„Not a bad idea. We're having salmon with tomato sauce.” He moved across the kitchen to get the ingredients. „It's the kind of comfort food that doesn't require much time and energy.”

„I really like the sound of that. Just boss me around, Chef Ramsey.” Tiffany winked at him with a teasing smile, unintentionally testing his patience. He shook his head undefeated, the iconic smirk playing back on his face, his fragile composure still in place.

„You can start with squashing these tomatoes.” He put a bowl of ripe cherry tomatoes in front of her, soon joined by a bulb of fresh young garlic. „And then slice the garlic nice and thin. You'll find all the equipment you need in the drawers on your left.”

„Got it! Just don't take too long.” She waved at Ethan's back while checking the nearest drawer in search of a proper knife and a cutting board.

After gathering all the necessities, she washed the tomatoes and chopped them in halves. When she finished slicing the bulb of garlic into thin wedges, she instinctively moved to the liquor cabinet and started browsing through an impressive collection of expensive wines, allowing herself to pick their poison for tonight.

The search was interrupted by Ethan's footsteps. Tiffany strolled back to reality, experiencing another surge of undeclared anxiety. She glanced at him over her shoulder and the sight had her taken aback.

„Ethan Ramsey in a plain t-shirt and sweatpants? My, oh my...You took the sleepover joke way too seriously.” She hid behind a soft giggle, hoping it would relieve some of the tension.

„You don't think that I move around my house in a suit, do you?” The amused grimace on her face made him chuckle. „Please, don't answer that.”

„Sorry. I didn't mean to make fun of you. I just...” Her eyes scanned his body, admiring the way the tight white shirt fit over his defined chest. „Didn't really expect you to be serving this kind of look.”

„Well.” His hand flicked through his damp hair. „I intend to serve you dinner.”

„Then what are we waiting for?” Tiffany grinned at his response and Ethan shook his head with a slight discomfiture as he guided her back to the kitchen. She took one of the bottles and quickly followed him.

„Peregrine is an excellent choice.” Ethan pointed at the red Burgundy cradled in her arms. She fixed him with a meaningful look and put the bottle on the table, waiting for him to bring the corkscrew and two glasses.

„Yeah, I'm a big fan of high-class red wine.” He snorted with laughter while opening the bottle.

„You picked the one with the funniest name, am I right?” Tiffany bit her bottom lip and laughed along as she walked up behind him, sniffing at the fresh scent of his musky cologne mixed with the shower gel.

„What gave me away?” Her eyes were fixed on the burgundy liquor slowly filling the glass. In spite of the seemingly laid-back atmosphere, neither of them could shake the pervasive tension off.

„Let's just say I'm familiar with your drinking habits.” He offered her a full glass and a cheeky smile, and she readily accepted both, brushing his finger ever so slightly when she reached for her drink. Their eyes immediately locked.

„I can't even disagree with you on that. Would you like to propose a toast?”

They kept on staring at each other for a long while, the maddening silence wrapped around them, closing the distance between their bodies.

„To happy endings and new beginnings.” As soon as their glasses clinked, they dipped their lips into the wine, holding the gaze the whole time.

„We should...”

„By all means, yes. The cooking will take about 10 to 15 minutes, so you can make yourself comfortable in the living room.”

„No, I'm coming with you, Chef.” He raised his brows, a knowing smile lit his face up and he nodded in approval.

Tiffany sat on a bar stool in the kitchen, where she had a first-row view at Chef Ramsey in action. He put a drizzle of oil to a hot frying pan and fried the garlic until it was caramelized. Then, he added the tomatoes and cooked the sauce for a few minutes, trying not to distract his attention from the kitchen maneuvers. With a determined effort of will he maintained his focus, barely squinting at Tiffany, as she watched him hypnotized – studying his face and every move he accomplished with mathematical precision.

„You're strangely silent.” He stole a glance at his companion while seasoning the salmon.

„Shh. I'm watching a cooking show.” A dulcet laughter escaped Ethan's mouth and he found himself distracted for one split second when Tiffany sent him the most charming smile.

He put the fillets in another pan and cooked them until the fish was done. After he chopped and stirred fresh mint and dill through the sauce, he dished up the salmon fillets and served them with a generous spread of the sauce and a side of Greek salad.

The Chef Ramsey Special lived up to Tiffany's expectations and she eagerly praised Ethan's cooking skills during the dinner. They managed to forget about the whole purpose of the visit for the time being, chatting about everything and nothing in particular. As quickly as they finished the first glass of wine after the meal, the odd vexation sneaked up on them again.

„Shall we move somewhere comfortable?” Ethan's offer was greeted with a quiet acceptance. Tiffany strolled to the living room and curled up on the couch. Ethan refilled their glasses and joined her, keeping the safe distance between them. His emotions rapidly skipped from vaguely calm to a nervous wreck. He took a massive gulp of wine in order to gather his courage and looked over the room.

„So...”

„We're really doing this.” Tiffany crooned.

„I suppose we are...” He took a deep breath, thinking of a proper way to verbalize his thoughts.

„I had a really long talk with my dad after you've left the other night. It made me realize what a timorous fool I've been.” He downed his Pinot Noir, holding the glass with shaky fingers.

„That's one way to put it.” She took a sip of her wine, leaning on the big pillow.

„A delusional jackass. A blind asshole...” He continued, his voice was dripping with absolute contempt.

„I think I got the gist, Ethan.” She covered his hand with hers. A rueful smile spread across his face as his thumb brushed her skin.

„Tiffany, I can't even begin to apologize for all the hurt I've caused.” He muttered, deeply ashamed.

„You tore my heart apart. I won't lie about that. All these nights I've been wondering where did I go wrong. I've tried to explain to myself which part of me was so undeserving...” She trailed off, her gaze focused on her half-empty glass of wine. The anguish of rejection was stamped on Tiffany's mind. She felt a stabbing pain, much like an old wound just reopened in her chest. The depth of this feeling was so overwhelming, it made her sick and she found herself near to tears.

„Tiffany.” Ethan squeezed her hand tight, his expression dead serious. „It was never about you.”

„I've realized that soon enough. It was always about you, Ethan. And I really thought I could fix you.”

„But you did fix me.” Her eyes met his again, their gaze reflecting the overflowing wave of emotions that filled the room. „I'm sorry it took me so long to acknowledge all the effort and hope you've put into me. You've fought for me tirelessly even when I felt like giving up on myself.”

„I'd never give up on you, even if it was the right thing to do.” She smiled through fresh tears cascading down her cheeks. Ethan's thumb immediately came to the rescue, wiping them away with a gentle stroke and a reassuring smile.

„Does that mean you accept my apology?” Tiffany bobbed her head in answer and sniffled quietly. Ethan drew closer to her, sighing softly with relief when she allowed their knees to touch and leaned into him.

„It's very rare that I'm wrong...But I'm willing to admit when I am. And I was hopelessly wrong about pushing you away, Tiffany.”

She regarded his features thoughtfully without saying a word. Once he realized it's a subtle sign that she's waiting for him to elaborate on the subject, he pinched the bridge of his nose and pressed ahead with his discourse.

„I always considered love to be a load of bollocks. I never thought it was on the cards for me. Then I met you and I knew right from the start that you will turn my world upside down.” The words stuck in his throat for a second. Her fingers entwined with his, sending an encouraging shiver down his spine as he continued. „I was such an adamant coward, too scared to admit that I'm losing my heart to you. I fooled myself into thinking that running away will solve everything.”

„But it didn't solve anything, did it? The reset button didn't work.”

„I don't remember psychology major on your resume, Rookie.” The corners of his mouth formed a cheeky grin.

„I can't blame you, it was listed as a hobby.” She shrugged her shoulders with a triumphant smile. Ethan studied her face in silence for a moment, as if he was looking for the missing piece of the puzzle.

„That's right, it didn't.” He finally affirmed. „I've been living in denial, making excuses I didn't even believe myself. But it ends now. I'm coming clean. ”

Tiffany freezed, feeling panic-stricken all of a sudden. It was happening. She wrote the script down in her mind, rehearsed it about a thousand times and waited patiently until that very moment to watch it unfold. It was really happening. Deep in her heart she knew what he was going to say. He didn't have to actually say it. And yet, it was crucial that he did.

Ethan imagined he'd be composed. He prepared himself to remain calm. He had it all planned, calculated and revised. The world-beating diagnostician failed to add one variable to his equation, though – the presence of the woman he's in love with. The way her wet emerald eyes penetrated his every thought, or how quickly her unstable breathing caused his limbs to shake. But this was the moment. The ultimate make-or-break decision.

The air suddenly brimmed over with bullish expectations. They gazed into each other's eyes, anxiously anticipating what was about to happen. Ethan inhaled sharply before speaking up, trying not to let the overpowering variety of emotions affect the outcome of the talk.

„I want you. I want to...Be with you.” He reached for her hand again and placed a kiss on her palm, studying the thunderstuck expression on her face. „I want to make us work properly this time. If you would have me back I promise I won't let you down.”

Tiffany freezed up completely as she stared at him speechless for what felt like forever. Ethan held her hand tight, stamping one of his feet impatiently in the hope of an immediate response.

Nothing could possibly prepare her for this. His last words triggered something hidden in Tiffany's memory. Her mind flashed back to the first day of her internship, and that distant thought brought an arcane smile to her lips.

„You can see the future?” When she finally found her tongue, Ethan's jaw dropped on the floor. Those were his words. A quick recollection of their conversation during the very first day of Tiffany's internship splashed across his mind.

„I guess I deserved that.” He chuckled lightly and rubbed his chin. Tiffany's infectious giggle was short-lived as her expression turned into an unsolvable riddle. She looked him deep in the eye, still holding his other hand.

„I can't have you back, Ethan.”

Ethan stopped breathing for a second and his body broke out in cold sweat. He didn't understand. Everything was going according to the plan...Has he misjudged her intentions? Could they really be at cross purposes?

„I can't have you back...Because you've never actually left.” Tiffany closed the distance between them, lowering her voice to a soft whisper. „You're the blood in my veins.”

Time stopped the moment they exchanged looks, allowing the meaning of their confessions to wash over them. They marvelled at each other with a beam of happiness, never breaking the gaze.

„Don't let me down, Ethan.” His face lit up with the most radiant smile she's ever seen on him and it was the only answer she needed.

„I'm never making this mistake again. I've learned my lesson.” He grabbed her by the sides and with one swift movement placed her on top of his legs. His hand traveled all the way up to cup her cheek, while she hooked her arms around his neck and squeezed him in a crushing hug.

„I'll be the judge of that.” Tiffany gently bumped her nose against his and licked her lips. Before she could blink, Ethan's lips crashed into hers with tremendous ardour. The kiss tasted like dry red wine and the longed-for sweet victory. It was urgent and deep.

And it still wasn’t enough.

#ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #open heart #ethan ramsey x mc #my fanfic writing #the talk ™ #tiffany addams

[keanuvibe]

Bodyguard (John Wick x Reader) Pt. 4

A/N: Hi! sorry im awful at uploading lol. my personal life rn is on fire and i haven’t had all the time in the world to write, but managed to pull this chapter together so :) thats coolio. 

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: swears, violence, a lil fluff

“So, tell me everything.” June smirked, leaning over the table towards you. You had managed to meet the girls on time, only a few minutes past twelve- thirty. The three of you got seated shortly after, and ordered your cocktails; beginning the rounds of catching up you had to do. The restaurant is diner themed, set in the 1950’s. One wall of the building was a bar, fit with barstools, an ice cream machine, as well as a soda machine. There was even a section where you could order homemade candy. Little booths scattered the wall across from the bar, and tables separated the two. The floor was checkered design donning many muddy footprints and the walls were covered in old-timey photos of local streets. You and the girls sat at a booth, June and Dottie sitting across from you.

“Okay, get this,” You began, leaning in towards your friends, “Santino, you know, mio cugino pazzo. He’s mad at my father and is trying to kill me for it.”  ‘[My crazy cousin.]’ You finished and took another long sip of your cocktail. June and Dottie stared with their mouths agape. You calmly set down your drink and smiled shyly, eyes bouncing between the girls. You loved your friends, honestly. The three of you have been close since you were young teens. June and Dot also had connections to the Italian mafia, their fathers having run a section of both New York and New Jersey; although they aren't as intertwined as you. June is the oldest, one year older than yourself. She’s an old soul, that you know for sure. She wears dated clothes and uses dated household items; in fact, you can't recall June ever purchasing something new from the stores you and Dot go to. Hell, even her car is a 1978 AMC Pacer. Dottie is only a few months older than you, on the other hand. She is the spitting image of a pinup girl. She wears her hair in elegant waves and has bangs, she even wears button up dresses and has big hair bows for when shes feeling fancy. You can’t recall a time when she didn’t wear red lipstick nearly everyday.

“Should you even be outside?” Dottie whispered, leaning closer to your figure. Her New York accent was a little amplified by the drinks she’s had already. You shrugged as your answer, and June scoffed. 

“You, (Y/N), are unbelievable.” The waiter to walked up to your table, halting your conversation. The three of you blinked at the other, little grins holding back giggles ready to erupt. The waiter asked for your orders, then as soon as the young man had left, you jumped right back into it. 

“You guys should see my bodyguard.” You spoke, a smirk donning your face. Your mind wondered as to what he was up to right now. Maybe he's still sitting waiting for you to exit the bathroom, or, maybe he's already begun the witch hunt. 

“Ah, yes. John? As you've mentioned. Show us! the way you've described him- He sounds gorgeous.” Dottie eagerly bounced in her seat, urging you to show them a picture. You pulled out your phone, stomach dropping at the several messages that donned the lock screen; John’s contact name on each one. Witch hunt is it. 

12:47: Very funny. Where are you? 

12:59: Where are you. 

1:13: (Y/N). This isn’t a game.

1:21: I’m coming to find you. 

At least it took him almost an hour and a half to notice. You bit your cheek, looking up at June and Dottie. The two girls were engaged in conversation, talking about something or another. You cleared the notifications and unlocked your phone, hoping to god you got to finish your lunch before John caught up. You opened the camera roll and scrolled through until you found a picture of you and the bodyguard. Somehow, you'd gotten him to agree to a photo. He was bent over so his head was level with your own. Due to the lighting, the man was squinting, however the dark gaze caused a chill to form down your back. You cleared your throat and flipped your phone around to show the girls. Dottie stopped talking and immediately looked at the screen

“Oh my god.” She murmured, sitting back and putting her hand over her chest. “He’s so handsome.” June grabbed the phone from you to get a better look. 

“You have to fuck him.” The eldest commented with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. You let out a short laugh, snatching your phone back from the girls grasp. The two girls giggled at your embarrassment, Dot even took a coy sip from her drink. 

“Was that gray in his beard? How old is he?” Dottie asked, looking you in the eye and sipping on her own cocktail. 

“Don’t laugh, okay? He’s mid fifties.” A blush crawled across your cheeks as your words escaped your lips. June and Dottie blinked a couple times before Dot finally let out a snort. 

“Going geriatric, now? hm?” June spoke, raising her brow and taking a gulp of her drink. While Dottie laughed at June’s question, you glanced over their shoulders, witnessing two burly men sit down at a table across from yours. One of them made eye contact with you, glare evident in their gaze, before looking back to their buddy. You felt your skin crawl and cleared your throat, pushing the feeling away. June’s laughter brought you back, now looking between the two girls again. 

“Well, He- He really doesn't feel old. Not when we're together.” You shrugged, playing with the condensation on your drink. 

“I mean, you’re only twenty-six,” Dot spoke, her eyes glancing between you and June. “You’re young and hot. I don't see an issue.” Your eyes shot up to meet Dottie’s. She smiled at you, her dark brown eyes warming your core. 

“Who are we to judge,” June began, a laugh escaping her throat. “I slept with that old guy, remember? He was, like, almost sixty and I was drunk as hell.” You and Dottie laughed, remembering that night. It was June’s twenty-third birthday. You three went to the club to celebrate and the eldest of your group ended up getting too wasted on absinthe. Which resulted in her sleeping with Mitch Johnson, an old friend of your fathers. Small world. 

“And you,” June pointed to Dottie, “Are a homewrecker.” 

“He never said he was married.” Dottie responded, sticking her tongue out at the woman. The three of you chuckled amongst yourselves before a silence took over. Your eyes once again scanned the room, not being able to shake the eerie feeling those two men implanted. They still sat across the diner and occasionally their eyes would make contact with your own, causing a chill to run up your spine. You quietly flipped your phone over, checking for any more messages from John. The screen remained blank, setting panic to freely course through your veins. His previous message was sent fifteen minutes ago, which meant the man was probably on his way right now. Plus, your parents didn’t live far from Coopers. 

The men both stood up now, locking eyes with you. They then looked at the other, as though confirmation was in order, before beginning to walk in the direction that you and the girls sat. Anxiety courses firmly through your veins now, and you could feel your palms gather sweat. 

“Girls,” You murmured, gathering their attention. “There are two men walking in our direction now, and I’m pretty sure they are after me.” You kept your voice low, trying to pretend as though you are oblivious. June and Dottie became physically uncomfortable, now shifting in their seats and looking over their shoulders. You felt guilt cross your person, now realizing how serious the situation is. You put your two best friends in harm's way. I mean, It’s not like they’re completely useless; they have parents in the Mafia, they’re trained in combat and weaponry. However, the guilt still bothered you that it was your fault.

“How do we go about this?” Dot asked, reaching for her purse. Your eyes watched as the woman dug into her bag. The pop of a gun chamber sounded as she began to fill it with bullets. June tied her hair back and began to stretch her arms. You sometimes forget that June is trained extensively in Jiu Jitsu. You also looked back to the men who were still making their way to you, passing through the crowded dining room floor. 

“Should we leave the public space?” You murmured, “I don’t want civilian casualties.” 

“Yes.” June agreed, standing up. “Gather your things, quickly.” She added. The oldest tossed a fifty dollar bill onto the table to pay for the drinks and the food you didn’t get to eat. You led the way, pushing through the crowded dining room to the exit. You glanced back, seeing the men become more frustrated. You are aware of the other, knowing what little cat and mouse game was occurring. 

Your palms shoved the door open, the three of you stumbling over onto the sidewalk. You looked both ways before leading right. You didn’t know what to do, whether you should try to outrun them, or stick up and fight. Maybe if you kill them it’ll send a message to Santino. Though, he may not even care. As he’s got twenty more men to fill the space those two would leave. You made sure June and Dottie still followed, checking over your shoulder occasionally. The three of you pushed through the crowds of New York, your main destination being Dottie’s vehicle. Your eyes also kept a lookout for John. He probably tracked your phone, you knew he had the ability anyways. You’re just glad the little ploy worked for as long as it did. You turned right down an alleyway, taking a shortcut towards the parking garage that Dot’s car was in. June looked over her shoulder, alarm blaring through her veins as she spotted the men. 

“They’re still behind us.” She spoke, looking between you and Dottie. You took a deep breath, placing your hands on your hips. 

“Va al diavolo!” ‘[Go to hell!]’ You cursed, throwing your hands up. Dot quickly grabbed you by the arm, pulling you as she began to run to the end. June grunted as the three of you approached a dead end, meeting a chain link fence.

“Fanculo. Okay, you two climb over.” ‘[Fuck.]’ You spoke, gesturing to the fence that stood in front of you. Your eyes met those of your friends, all breathing heavily from the sprint. Echoed footsteps could be heard at the entrance of the alley. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing the silhouettes of the men headed in your direction.

“Go!” You spoke with a harshness towards your friends.

“Not without you!” Dottie raised her tone, hands on hips. You turned your head again, seeing them get closer.

“Dot, just go!” You finally yelled. The girls hesitated, however respected your wishes and quickly climbed the fence, hopping to the other side. They stood now, staring as the men approached, getting ready to jump back over if need be.

“Santino it ha Inviato?” ‘[Did Santino send you?]’ You asked the men, slowly walking towards them.

“Si.” ‘[Yes.]’ One responded, their faces finally becoming clear from the backlight. You looked at them, noting how they both looked like average Italian men. Dark hair, olive eyes, and warm skin. Their faces were covered in a few scars, and you noted how they both wore suits with visible holsters resting on their hips

“It ha mandato per uccidermi?” ‘[Did he send you to kill me?]’ You asked, the men now only ten feet away from you. The darkness of the alley sent a chill down your spine, and you glanced back at the girls to make sure they were alright. Dot had her hand in her purse, most likely gearing up for when shit turned sideways. June held a stoic look, almost a resting bitch face, staring down the two men. 

“Si.” The same one answered again. They now stood only five feet away, stopping in front of you. You felt the sweat drip down your forehead, the buggy summer heat beginning to take claim of your body. You took a deep breath, wondering where John was, and how now would be a good time for him to suddenly appear. The men cracked their knuckles, rolling their shoulders and looking at you with sinister smiles. 

“Di ‘a Santino: E un peccato che sia troppo codardo per uccidermi.” ‘[Tell Santino: It’s a shame he’s too much of a coward to kill me himself.]’ You spoke, remembering the moves that your bodyguard had taught you. You leapt forward, first knocking one of the men down by pushing in his kneecaps. You took the moment to quickly hit the next guy, however, he blocked your blow, sending you back a few feet. The second man took advantage of your hesitation and grabbed you, throwing you into one of the walls. You let out a yelp, feeling the brick scrape bare skin harshly. The first guy stood up, and threw a fist at you, however, you quickly dodged and used his own momentum to toss his body into the wall. 

You felt as the second lackey quickly punched your gut, causing you to double over in pain. June and Dottie stood yelling which you could hear through ringing ears. You recovered quickly, countering the second man with a swift kick to his shin. He groaned, but recovered and swung a fist at you. You managed to dodge the blow and delivered a hearty boot to his groin. He quickly dropped to the ground in pain and you grabbed the pistol from his holster, pulling the trigger and placing one bullet into his skull. The second man used this moment to grab your loose shirt, and throw you into the brick, scraping your skin once again. He lifted his foot and conveyed a kick to your gut, sending you to double over. He used his fist to hit the sides of your face, throwing your head back and forth. You could feel blood begin to drip down your face, the pain that each snap of your neck caused, you could hear June and Dot yelling but it was faint. Time felt slowed, your heartbeat was like a drum in your ear. Then, a gunshot. 

All movements stopped, followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground near your own. You slowly slid down, ignoring the burning chafe the brick left. Hot tears stung your eyes as you covered them with your hands, a harsh sob leaving your throat. Your body ached, your face burned, and blood was the only taste that donned your mouth. You heard the chain link rattle as somebody climbed over it, as well as a huff when they landed. A gentle hand placed itself on your shoulder, and you saw as they knelt down, due to the shadow.

“(Y/N).” John. A hoarse cry escaped your throat upon hearing your bodyguards gentle voice. He wasn’t angry, like you expected. Instead, his tone seemed more worried than anything. You managed to look up at the man from your hands, your eyes greeting the sight of his own.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)!” You heard Dottie yell as she approached your side. The two girls quickly examined your body, nearly shoving John out of the way. 

“I fucked up.” You didn’t even recognize your voice as you spoke— your throat burned. June dotted your bloody forehead with a napkin from Dot’s purse.

“We should get her back home.” Dottie murmured, looking up at John. The dark haired man nodded, agreeing with the woman. June moved out of the way so he could scoop you into his arms. You lay your head onto his chest, faintly hearing the sound of his heartbeat and breathing. The man carried you out of the alley with June and Dottie close behind. You felt the summer sun warm your face as you exited the cool shade of the alleyway. The fresh breeze brought your attention to the cuts on your face, feeling the coolness from the semi-dried blood. Dottie opened the vehicles door and John placed you in the passenger seat, buckling your body firmly in. The two girls hopped into the back, John promising they’d be returned to their car later this evening. You heard the rumble of the engine, and closed your eyes, feeling tiredness numb the pain that ravaged your figure.

——————

“How long have you been employed by the (Y/L/N)’s?” Dottie’s gentle voice quietly echoed throughout your bedroom. Mellow sun rays shone in through the window, casting a warm haze throughout the space. After the incident in the alleyway, John brought you, Dottie, and June back to your parents estate. However, after you all got back, John discovered they'd left on business to Rome for a few days. He carried your figure all the way from the car to your bed, carefully depositing you. Dot and June then got to work, bandaging your wounds, though after you seemed stable and well asleep, they backed off and let you get some rest. Now, John watched as Dottie cared for your sleeping figure. His heart couldn’t help but ache to see you so helpless laying there. Your face had been drained of some of its color, leaving it more pale and sickly. Your hair stuck to your skin, and a thin layer of sweat covered your body. Your bodyguard wanted so badly to climb into the bed with you, stroke your hair from your face, tend to your bandages, hold you, kiss you. 

“Month and a half.” John answered, looking over to the woman. She nodded at his answer, dotting your forehead with a wet washcloth. The woman sat next to your bed with a rag in hand, occasionally cleaning your skin of sweat and dried blood specs. June was asleep on the small couch you had in your bedroom next to one of the windows. John stood on the opposite side of the bed from Dottie, watching her every movement when it came to caring for you. Occasionally your body would stir, but you still hadn’t woken up since the car— four hours ago. 

“Are you liking it?” The vintage dressed woman asked, a smirk crossing her red lips. She cast her eyes between John and your sleeping figure, hinting as to what she was meaning. 

“I am.” He responded. Dottie noticed his softened gaze when he looked towards you. She glanced back down at your face, wiping your skin with the washcloth gently. Your brow bone contained a nasty laceration and your cheekbone held a nice bruise with a cut as well. There was also a gash on your bottom lip, and your left eye held a hefty black bruise. That man really got ahold of you. 

“They're a good family. I know Francesco means well,” Dot murmured, “Speaking of, have you let them know?” John watched as the woman stood up and walked to the bathroom retrieving a fresh bowl of water for your face. 

“I called Francesco shortly after we arrived here.” The dark haired man spoke. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning towards your figure. He brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen in your face. His thumb caressed your cheek afterwords, carefully avoiding the wounds that donned your skin. He felt your body stir, and a quiet groan escape your lips as you started to wake up. Dot walked back into the room, noting Johns figure looming over your own. A little smirk crossed her lips as she set the bowl down on the nightstand. You peeked your eyes open for a second, wincing at the brightness of the room. 

“Good afternoon, sleepy.” Dottie smiled, sitting beside your figure again. “Careful.” She murmured, watching as you shifted to sit up a little better. You knew Dottie was next to you, but could feel the weight of somebody on your other side. A large hand quietly placed itself on the side of your arm and you looked to see who it belonged to.

“How do you feel?” John’s words were gently spoken. His fingers squeezed your arm slightly before he released. 

“M-my throat hurts.” Your voice came out scratchy and withered sounding. Dottie quickly placed a cool glass of water into your palms, hers then wrapping around yours before releasing entirely. You gave her the best smile you could manage, due to your cuts, before sipping the drink. John stood up from the bed and made a comment about going to grab pain medicine before he exited your bedroom. 

“I'm going to wake up June.” Dottie spoke, walking over to her sleeping position by the window. You blinked your eyes, feeling the pain from the cuts, and groaned silently. It was stupid of you to think you could take on both of them. Your training with John was going fine, you figured if you at least got one down… No matter, at least you were still alive. The footsteps of your two friends caught your attention as the girls returned to your side. June immediately began to gush over how happy she was you were awake and okay, hugging you tightly. 

“We thought you were a goner.” The girl whispered, worry still evident in her tone. You raised your brows but winced as the sting from the cut became overwhelming. 

“I'm glad John showed up when he did. Like a superhero. He stood there with his gun and you should've seen the animalistic look in his eye.” Dottie sighed dreamily, “You are one lucky girl.” 

“I know about your ‘no dating’ rule, however, I don't think you should let this one get away.” June commented quietly, brushing some hair from your face. Dot agreed, shaking her head vigorously. The three of you cut the conversation short as John's footsteps echoed closer. He entered the room quietly and padded over to the bed, handing you a bottle of painkillers. Your fingers brushed as the container was passed and you felt a longing for the touch to remain; however just as the warmth arrived, it left. 

——————

June and Dottie stayed over for another hour before leaving. They helped you change your clothes and settle in for the night before they left you in the capable hands of John. The two of you remained in your bedroom the rest of the evening. You went in and out of sleep a few times. One time, you woke to the man humming quietly while sitting in bed next to your figure. Another, he was checking your bandages and cleaning the sheen of sweat from your skin. Maybe what June said is right, you can’t let John get away. Nobody has cared for you like he has. But that begged the question, would he even want to be with you? You’re half his age and apart of a mafia family. Plus, you still don't know much about him; his past, his home life, etc. He is a mysterious being, quiet too. It only made you want to know more.

“John?” You murmured, gathering the strength to sit up. It was late evening now, just past eight. The summer sun had just set, leaving a gray tone to cover the space. 

“Yes?” He answered, turning to face you. He had been sitting at your desk, cleaning his gun. 

“Parlami di te.” ‘[Tell me about yourself.]’ The man responded to your request by putting down the parts in his hand. He then quietly cleaned his fingers of grime before standing up and padding over to you, but not sitting. 

“What would you like to know?” He murmured. You studied his face for a moment, taking in the features he donned. His normally combed hair was disheveled now and he had bags under his eyes. He wore a suit and shoes too, obviously still dressed for work. 

“Everything.” You replied, ignoring the throb of pain that coursed through your body. John nodded, then loosened the tie from his around neck. He shed off his suit jacket next, leaving him in a black button up and vest on top. You admired his figure in the darkening room. He stood tall, confident, maybe a little tired, but didn't let it show much. The man settled on the edge of your bed, by your feet. The room remained silent for a few moments; you not daring to speak, and John taking the time to gather his thoughts. 

“I was married.” John’s voice was so soft, you had to lean towards him to hear better. The man kept his gaze towards his hands, fidgeting with his fingers. 

“Was?” You asked, pushing aside the slight feeling of jealousy that rose. 

“She- she passed due to an illness years back.” The bodyguard paused.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” You let out quietly, as to not bother John’s story process. 

“I was retired and wanted to live my days as a widower, however I was dragged back into the business by an old friends’ idiot son.” The man sighed, pushing some fallen hair behind his ear. You caught a glimpse at how sad he appeared, and felt an urge to comfort him. Pain shot through your body as you scooted down the bed until you were close enough to John. You grabbed his hand and his fingers instinctively intertwined with your own, making you realize just how large his palms actually were. It felt right, his hand being wrapped with your own. 

“Ever since then, I haven't left the business again. I see no point. I can't seem to leave anyways, I keep getting dragged back in.” He sighed heavily and you began to rub your thumb along his hand, as your way of comforting him. He fell silent, but you didn't push anymore questions just yet. He was being open and raw, which was probably difficult for the man to do. If he wanted to tell his story, he would. You wanted to know more, obviously, about the kind of work he's done; his jobs, the people he’s met, and if he knew anyone in your family. You wanted to know why the man was so troubled, and why it seemed everybody is against him. 

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Your voice escaped softly, barely above a whisper. John's hand squeezed your own, before he finally made eye contact with you. His dark gaze caused a chill to slither down your spine.

“Yes.” He spoke softly, “I need to go change.” He gave your hand one last squeeze before removing it and standing up. You watched as his figure walked across your room and disappeared behind the door. It only took him about five minutes before he returned, ready for bed. Sure, it was barely nine, but you figured you could put on a movie. You drank in the sight of him, admiring his pajamas. Blue with plaid stripes, and a plain white t-shirt. You’ve never seen him in anything but a suit, nevermind the sweatsuit outfit from when you train. This is different than that, this is a side of John that doesn't say ‘Hey, i'm a killer!’ This side is domestic; make you coffee and toast in the morning domestic. 

“Would you like to watch a movie?” You then asked, watching him tidy up his mess from cleaning his gun, which he didn't finish. 

“Sure.” He responded, walking over and climbing onto the bed next to your figure. You turned on your TV, and picked a movie from a streaming service, before fully settling in. You scoot your body close enough to John’s that you were able to lay your head on his chest. The man wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you even closer, but gently as to not cause you more pain. You listened to his heartbeat as it slowed to a resting rhythm, and then closed your eyes letting sleep overcome your senses.

--

Masterlist

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu x you #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fanfiction #fic: bodyguardAU

[love-dreams]

i’m always right

jimin/reader | nerd!au, college!au | genre: fluff

synopsis: i don’t know why you even bother questioning me when i’m always right.

alternate synopsis: in which both reader and jimin can’t help but yearn for a relationship deeper than the term “study buddies”

contents: mild cursing, confession, mentions of drinking alcohol and parties

note: i lost my writing journal and i’m so sad *cries* but luckily i remembered this from the depths of my nonexistent brain. edit: nvrmind i found it lol 

song rec/inspo: 《247》by seventeen, performance team 

wc: 2.2k

“You must not be in your right mind, the answer’s obviously 74.”

“I'm not in my right mind?? Jimin, please check your work again.”

It was a nice Saturday afternoon, beautiful weather, sunny, blue skies...except you were stuck in the library with Park Jimin studying for your upcoming math final. The bane of your existence with you in the same room.

“I’ve checked it 2 times already, show me yours.”

With a groan, you handed your notebook over to the blond headed male beside you, already regretting your choice of studying with him. Jimin was smart, that wasn’t refutable, but was he a good person? Sometimes you questioned that. Especially when he questioned every single damn-

“Are you sure you divided correctly?” Jimin asked critically, after a few seconds of scanning through your work.

“Are you sure you divided correctly?” you snapped back, already annoyed that Jimin had questioned your answer.

The bickering between the two of you almost never stopped, leading to many of your peers wondering why you even studied together in the first place. 

Jimin rolled his eyes at your childish response and moved onto checking the answer of the next question.

Because he’s smart, your rational side told you. It could benefit us to study with another person too! 

However, after another ten minutes, you gave up. Screw this, I’ve been here for nearly two hours with this idiot!! 

You stood up suddenly, slamming your books onto the table with a loud bang in the quiet library. Jimin looked up, surprised at your sudden action.

“I’m going home. This is stupid and we’re not getting anything done. I can be productive elsewhere without you annoying me.” 

While packing up your textbooks, notebooks, stationery, and others, you noticed Jimin looking at something intently.

“Hey! That’s mine!!” you snatched back the notebook Jimin was curiously examining, blushing profusely. 

Jimin smirked, “Well, I guess now I know what you meant by ‘being productive elsewhere.’ Have fun on your date!”

You blushed harder and chose to ignore Jimin’s taunting, throwing the remainder of your things into your backpack and exiting the library, walking quickly. He had picked up your planner, in which every hour of your life had been planned in. You couldn’t imagine what he had seen in there that had made him say that. 

---------------

Mentally checking your schedule for the day, you did not have a date like Jimin suggested. In fact, you weren’t sure why it was written like that in your planner anyway. As you walked down the busy streets of Seoul, you started thinking about Jimin’s last comment. He didn’t seem to be very happy while reading the events in your planner…

I must be out of my mind. The math test is in a few days. I don’t have time-

“(Y/N)!! Over here!”

You looked up at the sound of a voice calling your name, scanning the street around you. Then you saw the small cafe with an enthusiastic waving hand. Smiling, you walked over to the cafe and sat down in one of their empty chairs. 

Suddenly you remembered the planner.

“Yeri, were you the one who wrote ‘date’ in my planner?”

Yeri looked momentarily confused before chuckling “That was such a long time ago! You kept on forgetting, so I wrote it in your planner. Well, it worked, didn’t it? You’re here!”

Annoyed, you pinched at your nose.

Yeri, seeing your frustration, shrugged, “It is a date! With your girlfriend that’s all. Why are you so upset-” Yeri shrieked when you pinched her hand, embarrassedly covering her mouth. “Hey-!”

“Jimin saw it!! And now he’s going to tease me for the next few weeks just because of this! Yeri, we have a math test in-”

“Come on, (Y/N), it’s just a little joke. Don’t worry about it.”

And with a late afternoon snack with your best friend, the scenario was washed from your mind.

---------------

“Shit, shit, shit.” 

You had woken up a little bit late, exactly ten minutes after your alarm clock rang, and you were panicking. It was the day of your big math final and without those extra ten minutes, you wouldn’t have enough time to grab your coffee and eat a good breakfast as well. Rushing out of your apartment with your bag, you made it onto campus ten minutes before the exam started, breathless as well as a little sweaty. 

As you jogged up to the entrance of your test building, you heard a familiar voice passing you.

“Hey! (Y/N)!”

Turning around, you saw Jimin, glasses, cheeks a little pink from the cold morning air of Seoul, and was that a ponytail? Jimin jogged over and stood in front of you, nervously before pulling something behind him.

Jimin handed you a cup of warm coffee, “Good luck on your exam, (Y/N).”

You nodded numbly, unsure that this was even real. Surprised, you managed a “Yeah, thanks” before turning back around to head into the building. 

Nonetheless, you finished five minutes before the time was up, grateful for the extra kick of caffeine. You weren’t sure if you could’ve made it through without your daily dose of coffee. Not only was it surprising to even have the cup of coffee from Jimin, but that it was perfectly made. It almost seemed too suspicious. 

After the exam, you and your friends decided to go to lunch at the local campus cafe. Almost immediately after getting seated, Joy blurted out, “Oh my god, (Y/N), you never told me you and Jimin were dating!”

After the initial shock, you quickly retorted, “What are you even saying? We’re just studying together.” 

Joy nodded smugly, “And where’d you get that cup of coffee from, hm?” 

You groaned out loud, “Oh my gosh, it was just for good luck. Why’d you have to make it so awkward?” 

Joy sighed dreamily, “I think he might like you, (Y/N)..”

You rolled your eyes before looking down at the menus the waiter had placed on your table before connecting the dots.

“Wait, Joy, was it you who told him to get me a cup of coffee?”

Joy looked up, surprised by your accusation, “No..?”

“But then how was it-”

“Okay fine. It was me. Stop bullying Joy.”

The two of you turned around to stare at Yeri, who had been quiet while this whole conversation between you and Joy. Yeri looked nonchalant though, as she diverted her gaze back to the menu in her hands. 

Shrugging it off, you added, “I guess it doesn’t matter then, if Yeri told Jimin to get it.” 

Yeri waved her hands, contradicting you, “No, no. I didn’t tell him to get it. He asked how you liked your coffee, that’s all.” 

Although you were surprised that Jimin even thought of you, you didn’t dwell on it much. It might have just been a thank-you gift for studying with him. Quickly changing the topic, you made it a point to not bring up Jimin in the next hour with your friends. While waiting for dessert, however, your thoughts suddenly turned to Jimin. What even was Jimin to you? Friends? Absolutely not. Just thinking about that made your blood boil. Study buddies. 

“What’d you say?”

You looked up, surprised to see Joy and Yeri’s confused faces. Waving it off, you mumbled something about the recent math exam and the attention was directed off you once more. Jimin was starting to become troublesome. 

Once you stepped foot into your apartment, you noticed that you were still holding the coffee cup Jimin had given to you. A rush of annoyance surged through you and you were about to throw the cup into the trash when you noticed lettering on it. Curious, you twisted the cup around to see what it said. 

“Good luck with your exam (Y/N)!! Also, it was 78, not 74. You were right,” written in Jimin’s normally messy handwriting, a little neater. 

Smiling, you kept the cup on your tiny kitchen counter, and went to your bathroom to wash up, trying to wash out thoughts of the cute dimpled boy.

That night, you dreamt of coffee cups and a smiling Jimin. 

---------------

Exam season was now over, leaving you with lots of free time. So much time that you weren’t sure what to even do. Thankfully, you had your two best friends there to make sure you weren’t holed up all the time in your bedroom listening to K-pop and watching anime all day long.

“C’mon, it’s the end of our year as freshmen in college! We should all go out and celebrate!”

Yeri joined in with Joy’s excitement, “And who knows? We might even see Jimin there!”

You groaned at Jimin’s name, covering your blushing face with your hands, “That’s one of the reasons I don’t want to go…”

After exams were over, you rarely saw even a hint of Jimin’s face. After all, being study buddies meant you only saw each other while studying for exams. Now that it was all over, the two of you had no excuse to see each other.

Eventually, your friends managed to drag you out in a decent outfit to another freshmen’s fraternity home, Soonyoung. There were already a lot of people at the party, despite being only 8:45. Within a few minutes, however, the house was packed with people, Joy and Yeri nowhere to be seen, leaving you alone in the crowds of people. 

You sighed, standing in one of the corners with a cup of non-alcoholic Sprite, keeping your head low to avoid being recognized. 

“(Y/N)?”

You looked up, surprised to hear your name being called, and even more surprised to see the blond head of Jimin. You smiled unintentionally when seeing the familiar face, gripping your cup of Sprite slightly harder.

“What’re you doing here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

Awkward, you looked down at your shoes, taking a deep breath before breathing out, “Uh, I just wanted to say...thank you. For the coffee.”

Jimin chuckled, also feeling a little awkward in the party atmosphere, “No problem, it’s what friends do, right?”

Your face burned at the word friends. 

“Yeah.”

Pushing his hair back, Jimin looked up at the ceiling to try and calm his racing heart. “Do you-”

“I kinda want to leave now, wanna come with?”

Jimin stood, a little taken aback before sputtering out, “Yes, sure, absolutely, actually I wanted to leave too.”

You grinned, “Did you have a drink, Chim? Your face is really red right now.” 

Jimin blushed harder, trying to cover up his face with his arm, “Yeah, maybe just a little.”

The two of you left the heated house, sighing in relief once the cool air outside hit. You could still hear the faint sound of party music even outside. 

“Jesus, I hate parties,” you said, breathing in the night air, leaning back on your arms to stare at the starry night sky.

“Yeah same. I guess I prefer quiet libraries,” Jimin agreed, following your gaze.

You smirked, “You’re such a nerd, Jimin.”

He stuck his tongue out and pouted, “As if you weren’t.”

You sat on the curb with Jimin, indulging in the silence between the two of you. Your thoughts drifted to the first time you saw Jimin in the library. His hair was still black back then, and shorter. 

“(Y/N)...”

Jimin’s voice made you snap out of your thoughts. 

His face was really red, but you had no doubt that your face was the same shade of scarlet, maybe even darker.

You smiled shyly, trying to conceal your pounding heart and sweaty hands. 

“Spit it out, Jimin.”

Jimin smiled and leaned closer, close enough for you to smell his cologne and a little bit of alcohol as well. 

“We’ve known each other for a long time...as friends, study buddies, whatever you wanna call it.”

You nodded along, letting him finish his thought. 

Before Jimin could finish, he broke down, “Ugh, I can’t say this, it’s so embarrassing,” covering his face with his small hands, you finally laughed. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” he pouted, letting his eyes peek through his hands. 

You gradually stopped, holding your stomach for comfort. Then you faced Jimin, leaning just as close as he had before. Carefully you took his hands into your own, letting you see his face clearly. 

“You dumbass, ask the question.”

Unfaltering from your insult, Jimin smiled shyly, looking down at your intertwined hands, “Be my girlfriend.” 

Despite preparing yourself with Joy and Yeri, your heart still skipped a beat and you gulped. 

“That’s not a question, idiot.” 

Jimin laughed, bringing you even closer that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. 

“Do you like me as well, (Y/N)?”

Sighing contentedly, you buried your head into his chest, “Of course.” 

---------------

“You knew I liked you?!”

You hushed Jimin in the library, feeling the weight of judgemental stares on you. 

“Yes, now can you be a little quiet? We’re in a library, Chim.”

Jimin blushed, diving back into his textbook. Within a few minutes, though, his curiosity got the best of him. 

“But..how did you know?”

You looked up slowly, eyebrows cocked, before smirking.

“What can I say? I’m always right.”

#jimin/reader #jimin fluff #bts/reader #bts fluff #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin x reader #bts #jimin #park jimin #nerd jimin #nerd au

[you-andthebottlemen]

54 - An Original: taking Van to a student festival/rave

So, I saw Catfish A WEEK AGO (where does time go??) and ohhh my god. It was amazing. I made some wonderful friends in line since I went alone and Van even spoke to me from stage between songs. DEAD. They were all so fucking happy and beautiful and cute. And the new songs go offfff live, I loved it. Van did that thing in Business where he’d scream and yell then start singing parts of Sidetrack as if he’s in a trance. And I’m like babe did you forget the song is actually part of the setlist now? But it was so cute, he was just so happy and into it. Also heard him do the Ouch kabibble thing and I couldn’t believe. I want to go back to that moment and live in it forever, best concert!! 

Have any of you guys seen them recently? I’d love to hear about your experiences!!!

Anyway - weirdly enough I had a dream the other night....with Van in it. And I remember it as if it were real. So, I HAD to write a fic about it. It’s short but sweet. And apologies for the break in requests, but this was an emergency. I promise I am working on all the requests you guys have sent in, thank you soo much! Enjoy!!!

(P.s obviously I have embellished the dream to make it into a fic lol and yes I know it’s not all that realistic and logical).

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

You checked your phone for the time, almost obsessively. Van was due to arrive any moment and you were becoming antsy waiting alone outside the venue, watching crowds of people file inside. Every time a taxi pulled up your heart fluttered hoping it was Van. Soon, it was 10 minutes past the time you were meant to meet, then 15. You leant against the cold wall, awkwardly staring around you trying to spot your fluffy haired boy in the sea of faces. You’d not seen him for months and you were sweating with anticipation.

“Babe!”

Finally.

Van ducked between people and made his way to you. When you saw him, your heart swelled to double its normal size. Having him home was the best thing in the whole world. Van scooped you up in his arms and held you tight, holding a hand to the back of your head. With your eyes shut, you breathed him in.

When you drew away after your long embrace, you looked at his face. It was exactly the same as the last time you’d seen it, but you didn’t care, you took him all in. His freckles, his pale skin, his messy eyebrows and those beautiful, beautiful blue eyes.

“You’re late,” you said finally, a small smile in your voice.

“Sorry,” Van said quietly as he tugged the hem of your shirt so your bodies were pulled closer.

He may have said sorry, but his eyes didn’t look sorry at all. Van leant in and kissed you hard. You tangled your fingers in the soft hair that curled at the back of his neck and his hands found their way to the waistband of your skirt. With a heavy breath, you pulled away.

Van made a whining noise.

“I know. Later,” you chuckled.

You led Van by the hand into the venue. It was massive, like an outdoor arena. It was the end of the university year and to celebrate there was a massive festival, or rave, you weren’t sure. But you were absolutely buzzing about it. You followed the crowd to the box office to pick up your tickets. The line was long, but you just stood with your head rested on Van’s shoulder and his hand clasped firmly in yours. Van briefly caught you up on the tour while you waited, recounting the places he visited and stories of their antics. In hindsight you should have just paid the extra money to get the tickets sent to you in the post.

When it was your turn, you showed the woman in the box your confirmation email and license.

“Student ID please,” she said bluntly.

You showed your ID card and she nodded, handing you the tickets.

“You too,” she said, looking at Van. You felt him tense beside you.

“He just graduated. Doesn’t have a valid ID anymore,” you responded quickly.

You heart began to race in panic. Van didn’t have a student ID because he wasn’t a university student and never had been. So technically he wasn’t allowed into the event. You definitely should have had the tickets posted.

The woman looked at you sceptically then held one finger up before leaning back to talk to a colleague. You squeezed Van’s hand nervously.

“Nope. No ID, no entry,” she said finally, her face straight. She wasn’t going to budge.

You moved away from the box office and found a quiet spot off to the side.

“Fuuuck,” you sighed, slumping your shoulders. Van looked at you with his lips pursed.

You felt torn; you didn’t want to go to the event without Van, you’d been looking forward to it for weeks. But you also didn’t want to miss out on it and your friends who were already inside waiting for you. You leant against the wall in defeat, a pout on your face. Van reached an arm out and pulled you into him. He kissed you on the forehead, holding his lips to your skin for a little while.

“It’s okay, just go in. Have fun,” he reassured you.

God, you loved him.

“No. Fuck this, come on,” you replied crossly.

Van smiled at your rage, his eyes brimming with love.

You dragged him along behind you and stood in line at the ticket barriers. You had the tickets. The box office woman mustn’t have realised she’d handed over both. So, you had the tickets, just not the permission for Van to use his. That, or it wasn’t valid to get him inside. Either way, you were going to get him in. Van didn’t get to go to university or do student things, so he’d been really looking forward to it despite the fact that it wasn’t really his scene. You weren’t going to leave him behind or let him miss out.

Huge crowds of people were flowing through the barriers, so surely Van could slip through. You’d paid after all.

When it was your turn, you scanned the ticket on the electronic barrier and buzzed through without an issue. You waited and watched nervously as Van did his. He kept tapping the ticket on the scanner, his face scrunching up in confusion. People yelled and made noises at him from behind, annoyed he was holding them up. The idiot couldn’t work out how to scan it properly.

“Hold it down and let the light scan it! Don’t tap!” you yelled at him. He just looked up at you with eyebrows raised. You smiled and shook your head. He may have been an idiot, but he was a cute idiot and he was yours.

Finally, Van got the ticket to scan. It buzzed him through and security didn’t bat an eyelash. Triumph. Van all but jumped over the barrier in excitement, howling in a high-pitched tone as he bounced over to you and lifted you off your feet. You laughed as he spun you round, gripping his shoulders tightly. When he placed you down, you felt people staring at your PDA, but you didn’t care. You were giddy in love and they were probably just jealous.

“Definitely on something that one,” you heard a lady say to the man beside her as you walked by, her eyes on Van. She seemed to be venue staff.

Ordinarily you’d be pissed off at comments made about Van, but you were so overwhelmed with love that it only worked to make you smile.

“Not on anything, just beyond ecstatic!” you called out to her, a grin on your face.

You wrapped your arm around Van’s waist and planted a kiss on his cheek as your bodies collided together with the force.

Following the crowd through to the main stage, you kept your arm around Van’s body, and he had his around your shoulders. You bunched his fuzzy black jumper up in your hand. It was a relief to have him back in your grip and his body close to yours once again.

“You know this probably wasn’t smart,” you said to Van, pinching the front of his jumper with your spare hand.

“Y/n. I came straight from the airport for this, don’t you be fussin’ about my outfit,” he replied, his voice full of amusement and faux annoyance. You smiled and rolled your eyes.

“Well I’m not holding it when you get hot.”

First stop was the bar. You each grabbed two beers so you wouldn’t have to come back too soon and line up yet again. Once drinks were acquired, the two of you plunged into the crowd at main stage in search of your friends. An act was already playing, electronic music with a deep bass pulsed all around you. You felt excited, like your whole body was buzzing and radiating happiness. Sweaty bodies danced around you and you weaved your way through them to your friends.

By the time you managed to find everyone, Van had finished both beers and you were almost through your first.

“Y/n!!” Alix screamed when she saw you.

She pounced on you, causing a beer to spill down your arm. It didn’t matter though. Alix was dressed in all white like most of the people there, and already had UV paint spattered across her chest and dotted around her face, ready for the lights to come on when the sun went down. Alix bundled Van into a hug like she had done with you and then pulled you over to where the others were stood.

You hugged everyone hello and introduced Van to those he hadn’t already met, though it was a bit difficult in the loud environment and confined space of the crowd. Van couldn’t wipe the grin from his face. He was tipsy and touchy feely with you, taking any opportunity to touch you and pull you close. He would put a hand on your waist under your t-shirt, so he could feel your skin, or move hair out of your eyes any chance he got. It was small things like that which you both missed so much when he was away. Van was his usual outgoing self though amplified by the alcohol on what you presumed was an empty stomach. This only made you buzz more.

As you all began to party and dance, you finished your drinks and reached out to kiss Van. You smiled into his lips and he held your face with both hands while you slowly made out.

“I love you two,” Mike said dreamily as he snapped a photo on his disposable camera.

You turned and smiled at him, your arms still hung around Van’s neck.

“You better get me a print of that!”

“You bet,” he grinned and danced away to take more photos elsewhere.

You stood with your back to Van and he wrapped himself around you. You swayed to the music and took it all in. People bounced and screamed, others held their friends up on their shoulders, some were busy taking photos, some drinking and dancing. You imagined what it would be like to watch it all unfold from the stage. You understood why Van loved playing to huge crowds so much. It was beautiful.

The sun began to sink and the sky turned a deep shade of blue. The flood lights and colourful lasers lit up the crowd and the music became louder. You let go of Van and danced with Alix for a while, spinning each other around and popping your hips to the beat. She had managed to sneak in a flask of vodka which she happily shared around, much to your delight. As you all grew increasingly more drunk, the music just seemed to get better and better. It was becoming like one huge rave.

When you found your way back to Van, he was sat up on Mike’s shoulders. He’d taken off his jumper and was swinging it above his head like a lasso. He was cheering and yelling loudly with a huge grin smacked across his face. You laughed and fell even more in love.

“Hey! You need some paint!” A small girl covered head to toe in glowing UV colours said, popping up out of nowhere. She offered you a tube of paint and you squeezed some onto your hand.

“Thanks! You look amazing.”

She beamed at you. Van clambered down from Mike’s shoulders and took the tube off her, squeezing it into his hand and rubbing them together so they were evenly covered in paint.

“Babe!” he shouted, and you whipped around to face him.

Before you could react, Van reached out and quickly grabbed your boobs, leaving two fluorescent pink hand prints behind. The girl who had given you the paint looked slightly horrified. Van recoiled sheepishly despite his mischievous grin; equally amused with himself and afraid of your reaction. He wiped the remainder of the paint across his bare stomach.

After a moment, you burst out laughing and then dove towards him, grabbing his face and smearing it with paint. Both of you erupted into giggles and a sort of wrestling match broke out between you. When you were left breathless and painted covered, you escaped out of the crowd and over to the food stands on the side. You had a sweaty, shirtless and colourful Van by your side and his jumper tied around your waist.

Van sat down on an empty patch of concrete and patted the space beside him. You crouched down and took some hot chips from the box in his hands. Although it was shitty, overpriced festival food, god it was good. You ate in silence, wolfing down the chips quickly into your drunken, hungry stomachs.

When you were done, you tried to get back to your group before the main event started.

“You know the headline act is Annie Mac doing a DJ set? You literally know her. You could’ve gotten in easy…why didn’t we think of that?” you said to Van as you pushed through hordes of moving bodies.

Van’s faced dropped and he looked dumbstruck for a moment. Then he shrugged and hung an arm around your shoulder.

“Doesn’t matter, I got in. I’m here, you’re here,” he said, pulling you in for a kiss. “And that’s all I care about.”

“I am so fucking happy you’re home,” you sighed, your heart feeling fuzzy and warm. You rested your head on his chest and shut your eyes in relief.

“Me too, love.”

You gave up on finding the others, you’d meet them once it was all over. You and Van squeezed in between a random group of people and boogied with them instead. A remix of One Direction’s ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ began playing and everyone cheered. You glanced at Van with a smirk. He was nodding his head to the beat unaware.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing……’I promised Ma a jacuzzi see’,” you teased, referring to the tweet he’d sent to one of the boys in One Direction a while back. You found that whole ‘feud’ hilarious.

Van gave you a look and knocked his shoulder into yours. “Shut up….now come here.”

He bent down and hoisted you up onto his shoulders. You screamed and clung to him, worried you’d fall. Though quickly you got your balance and felt literally on top of the world as you looked at the massive crowd around you all moving to the rhythm of the music. The lights were bright and colourful, so were the people with their glowing t-shirts or painted faces and bodies. It was a jungle out there and you loved it.

Most importantly, you loved the boy who was holding you tightly, making sure you wouldn’t fall.

#van #vanfic #van mccann #van mccann fanfiction #catfish #catb #Catfish and the Bottlemen

[wokainight]

NCT: I’ll Study You (Doyoung x Reader)

notes: this is like a blur of me watching sky castle, clowned crown and a few romance in between like lol idk what to make of doyoung’s character but it’s soft of fluffy in between his temper?? so like idk read this with an open mind because my head literally knows no plot when i wrote this lol.

the kim dongyoung you know practically lives in the library.

apart from being the student council vice-president as a second year and a regular for the basketball club, he still has time to do part-time work and practically buries himself in books in his spare time.

you don’t particularly know if he sleeps or if he’s ever done anything outside of his school curriculum. 

he works at a cafe in the weekends and takes night shifts at the convenience store at night.

it’s not as if you’ve tried following before or anything-- 

nor do you like him or anything--

“yah (l/n) (y/n), are you stalking me again?” doyoung calls from his usual seat, a fourth year text book open before him. he rolls his eyes at you playfully but drags the seat next to him open anyways. 

you sort of lower your head, covered it with a hand and walked straight there. 

“you didn’t have to shout!” you hissed, elbowing him in the rib.

to this, doyoung sighs. “my dearest stalker wants my attention but not too much attention? you’re really asking for a lot.”

you huff at him but opened your bag and grabbed all your materials, staring at it for a good minute.

“looking won’t do you a thing.”

“yeah yeah, i bet you your eyesight is getting worse,” you retorted, referring to the way doyoung was so into his book that he literally forgot to blink since three minutes and fifty-six seconds ago.

he grabs onto your hand suddenly and places it on your pen, motioning you to start studying without even glancing your way even once. he does it so often-- and yet somehow your heart still managed to jump at every one of his moves. 

you sigh and complacently opened your book, propping your head against your right palm. 

“it’s not as if i’ll remember anything,” you mumble, eyes lazily scanning over the semester’s worth of content. 

“you're not even reading it properly.” came his snappy comments. “despite how you carry yourself, i have faith in your intelligence.”

if it were any other person, you would proceed to snort at them before pulling out your failed papers from the corner of your bag. but doyoung doesn’t need to know and nor do you need to water away the last of his trust on you.

“so how were your papers?” 

startled, a cat bit your tongue. 

(you’re the cat. 

you bit your own tongue.)

“t-they’re okay,” you mumbled, finally looking at your materials.

while the distress signals flare inside your mind, the corners of doyoung’s lips threaten to rise as he reads the sentence he’s been on since he noticed you for the hundredth time.

---

“dude are you sure you’re okay?” 

doyoung’s brows furrow at the question, turning around to face a suspiciously gloomy johnny and jaehyun shooting him apologetic glances. 

“why wouldn’t i be?”

“well,” johnny starts, spinning a ball on top of his fingers casually, not minding the heat it radiated. “for starters, the last time i saw you sleep was back in high school, after you pulled a week’s worth of all nighters for the final exams and ended up in the hospital. secondly, a little birdie told me you’re squeezing in time for romance-- what if your dad--”

there’s a fast ball that johnny barely avoids in the hind of time. 

“guys, don’t fight.” jaehyun manages from the sidelines, eyes flickering over his team mates.

“don’t mention him,” doyoung says through his gritted teeth, eyes furious.

johnny’s two arms up should have been enough, but the tall dude had to add in the final throw.

“thirdly, your taste is so bad. why would you like the weirdo who stalks--”

this time, it was johnny who ended up in hospital. well, not really the hospital-- it was just the infirmary. doyoung ended up with cleaning duties for the next month.

least to say, he wasn’t regretful for throwing a real sturdy fast ball at his good ol’ bestie. 

---

the next time you do see doyoung instead of his curt greetings when you pass by is back at the library. his state looks worse than before, the tired bags more evident than ever and there’s beads of sweat running down his face despite the building being air conditioned. you literally ran for your life to the neat to him, effectively surprising the poor boy when you threw your belongings onto the tabletops and pressed a palm on his forehead.

“doyoung you’re burning up!” you gasp, retracting your hand at the amount of heat that has accumulated on his skin. 

doyoung hums at you, eyes hazy. 

“i’m fine,” he mutters, turning to the next page. 

you glance between him and his book, before biting down on your bottom lip at the thought of breaking the promise you made him when he allowed you to take the seat next to him for the very first time.

‘talk all you want, but don’t touch my stuff.’

“you’re going to rest,” your fingers tremble as you slid the book away from his grasp, almost in slow motion.

doyoung doesn’t react for a second.

there’s a brief pause as you held your breath.

“what are you doing?” the male finally turns to you, eyes piercing. “let go.”

“doyoung y-you’re sick and i know i promise to not touch your stuff but you--”

he’s all up in your face and throwing away any idea of personal space in a split second, cheeks red with delirious heat. 

“and you broke it,” he hissed, but the feeling of his breath on your skin deviates your attention elsewhere. 

for goodness sake, doyoung could be swearing at you right now and you’d still thank him for living.

your shaky hands retract itself from the book and latched onto doyoung’s hand. “i did,” you gulp down the fear of the following consequence. “but there’s something else more important than that.” with that, you pull him up and ran towards the infirmary with doyoung in tow, ignoring his groans and threats that pass by one ear to the other.

doyoung’s still spewing complaints when you settle him on top of the infirmary beds, glancing around nervously for the nurse to come back.

“do you know what you just done? you wasted almost fifteen minutes of my time when i could have finished two chapters.”

“i-i know, i’m sorry--”

“sorry?” doyoung laughs, throwing his hands up. “if sorry would cut it, then wouldn’t it be a wonderful world that we live in? tell me (y/n), you know this better than anyone.” he grabs onto your shoulder and pulls you in close to his seated form, on top of the bed. “do you think my father would forgive me if i begged him for forgiveness?”

as if a blizzard was present in the room, you feel goosebumps on your skin and your eyes lose focus at the memory.

there was probably another reason that doyoung kept you around. aside from johnny and jaehyun who were his long time friends since middle school, no one else knew the dynamics of doyoung’s family. 

you happened to be slightly more invested in his matters and came across doyoung’s father coming in for one of doyoung’s most important game. unfortunately, it didn’t end up with the suited man sitting crossed legged with his eyes mostly focused on the work on his lap. 

as soon as the game finished, doyoung had bolted in a flash, running out the back door. curious, you followed him.

you shouldn’t have though.

because the image of doyoung’s remorseful face as a hand lands on his cheeks was a scar in your memory.

you shake your head, tears welling up. doyoung’s gritted teeth unclench themselves at the sight, watching as you try to hold in the water works. you know doyoung hated it when you cried. so you try your best no to in his presence.

he doesn’t say anything as he pulls you into his arms and leans back simultaneously into the comfort of the white cased pillows. 

there’s a gentle hand that rubs circles on your back and you hear the scale of doyoung’s anxious heartbeat.

“i know i’m sick,” doyoung says after a few moments of silence. “but i also know that midterms are coming.”

what he doesn’t say is that it would probably be his last chance to prove to everyone and himself that a little love in his life won’t hurt his standings. he was determined to get a better mark than before.

but this time, it wasn’t just for him.

it was for you. 

---

after that, you don’t see doyoung as much aside from the times you’d watch him from the sidelines as he attends his regular practice times. more times than not, doyoung wouldn’t say a single word to you, letting the coldness of his gaze penetrate your view.

his eyes would follow you sometimes, and you couldn’t help but look away.

you don’t quite know if he’s angry about you breaking your promise or having him bring up the topic of his father. you know he hated that too.

you don’t know where to stand in doyoung’s life anymore because it was all a mess from the beginning and your relationship’s much more complicated than a simple knot. 

it was more like a tangled earphone experience and you grimace at the analogy as you stood up from the seats and gathered up your bag. 

doyoung was resting up after the intense practice at the side benches, talking to another teammate about something.

“hey,” a voice greets from beside you, and you jump at the sudden small talk. 

thankfully, it turned out to be a familiar face as jung jaehyun, the heartthrob of the basketball team showcased his dimple smile and sits you down. 

“are you two okay?” he got straight into the point, patting the sweat running down his face with a fresh towel. “doyoung’s temper isn’t exactly the most patient, but these days he’s like a ticking time bomb and just to let you know, johnny’s been burnt more than once.”

you send him a small smile, as sincere as you can at his attempt to uplift the mood. 

“i don’t know,” you honestly replied. “we’re not quite in talking terms yet so i don’t think we’re okay.”

jaehyun sighs at this. “what is he upset about this time? you not showing up to study with him on time? forgetting that he doesn’t work a certain shift anymore? god don’t tell me he’s angry again about you insisting him to not take you home because your house in literally the other way?”

you wish it were any of the petty reasons listed. “i think it’s more serious this time,” you frown, playing with your fingers. “by the way, is he taking the supplements i passed you?” you turn towards him with anticipation. 

to this, jaehyun replies with just as much vigour. “yeah! i don’t think he’s sick anymore and his appetite is back to normal now--”

as you and jaehyun talk animatedly about doyoung’s return to health, you don’t quite see the scowl that decorates a certain male’s features from across the room.

---

okay, it was getting ridiculous.

it was a week after the midterms and you hoped that doyoung’s anger would have been quenched by this point as there was less reasons for him to be stressing. 

you gave him a week of ‘recovery’ before giving up to the ill feelings of wanting to interact with him once again.

sure you were in the wrong to disturb him from his studies-- but he was burning up and very sick that day and you didn’t quite want him dying just yet. 

you don’t quite remember that last time the two of you had a proper conversation and it saddens you further when you realised there was no proper reason for doyoung to see your everyday. it’s not like the two of you were dating or anything-- nor has both side hinted aside from the constant love hearts in your eyes when you gaze at him. 

you were walking past the student council room when the door opens and a face you’ve been longing to stare at for more than a split second appears.

doyoung doesn’t quite react as much as you (as you dropped your papers everywhere), but closes the door behind him and bends down to collect your belongings with you.

“are you stalking me?” 

“what-- no--” when you look up at him to confirm the fact that it was indeed all up to fate this time without your nosy interference, you watched doyoung’s tired eyes matching yours. 

he wasn’t smiling, but somehow, deep down, you knew he was elated to meet you. 

it’s been over a month since you last talked to him and you can’t help but try to suppress the loudness of your heartbeat against your ears and the redness that threatens to appear on your cheeks.

“or have you moved on?” doyoung continues as he stoically passes you your papers. 

your brows knit together at this because if there was one thing you literally cannot let go at this moment in time, it would be your feelings for doyoung himself. 

“moved on? doyoung i was just giving you spa--”

“did you just realise that jaehyun’s a much handsomer and nicer person than i am?” he sneers bitterly. 

your first instincts were to react to his negatively, wondering why he would ever assume that you liked jaehyun more than him at this point-- but then you notice the difference in his talking pattern.

is he... jealous?

“i talked to him twice during the period of us not quite reaching talking terms,” you try and stay stoic, to match doyoung’s inwardly depressed state. “of course  i’d open my eyes by then.”

“how loyal,” doyoung snaps back, standing up as he watched you stuff the papers into your bag and rolls his eyes when you can’t quite squish it all inside. “fold it.” he takes the bunch out of your hand and halved their size in a heartbeat. 

“thanks,” you say, sliding them easily into a free space in your bag. 

“well i guess this is one thing off my back,” doyoung stares you down, eyes almost dark and condescending. “i’m glad.” 

“of course you are,” you bounce yourself on your heels, smiling. if he was jealous, you shouldn’t back down this time. as much as you like kim dongyoung, sometimes he needs to know that you do require a certain degree of respect no matter how much you make it out to like him. 

“get going then, jaehyun’s hanging out in the cafe down the street with johnny.”

he brushes past you intently as he walked the other way, glowering as soon as you couldn’t see his expression anymore. 

---

the day after the conversation, you purposefully visited doyoung at the convenience store to grab your favourite drink. he was serving someone when you came in, but noticed you right off the bat when you pass the cashier space and into the refrigerated drinks aisle. 

when it was time to pay, you handed him the drink and he attends to you professionally, without much strings attached to his speech. 

“you shouldn’t have this too often,” doyoung says as he passes you your purchase. “it has a lot of sugar.”

“i need it,” you sigh dramatically, “i’m just not sweet enough.”

doyoung froze at your sudden playful behaviour. and as you grab your drink and make a mad dash for the exit, you couldn’t hide the smile threatening to appear in front of him. 

you couldn’t decide if you were going to appear hot or cold or to push or pull. so you did everything in between and hoped for the best.

---

the weekend came in a flash and it was time to close this game of chase and to just come clean with doyoung. you were sick of not seeing him and having this weird game of stare with him whenever the two of you would make eye contact. 

you wanted to look a bit more dressed up than usual, so you wore the newest addition to your closet and touched up your face a little bit. 

wearing a pair of shoes you don’t do so often, you hop outside the comfort of your apartment and headed straight to doyoung’s cafe workplace.

there’s a large queue as it was a gleeful saturday, with doyoung serving at the cashiers as per your calculations. he’s quick with his hands and count money in the speed of light so of course they would make him take the task. 

he’s polite with his words despite not quite smiling and you frown slightly when a few girls attempt to flirt with him ahead of your queue. 

when it hits your turn, doyoung raises a stern brow. “welcome to cafe 127, how can i help you,” he says with a flat tone. 

you pretend to look around the menu for a bit, biting down the smile that threatens to appear on your lips because doyoung’s eyes are evidently on you and it was a little funny how he’s being so obvious about staring. 

“do you recommend the tiramisu latte or the strawberry shake?” you turn back to him, watching as he sighs and rolls his eyes.

“both are just as commendable.”

“what would you choose?”

doyoung’s antsy fingers stop tapping against the order screen and he straightens up at the question. “if i wanted both, i would order both of them.”

“well, what if you have to choose?”

“i don’t have to choose.” he gives you a pointed look. “i can have both of them just fine.”

“i’ll have the tiramisu latte then,” you cut off the flow of the conversation, wondering what doyoung was referring to because he seemed to worked up fort it to be about your choice of drinks. 

“anything else with your order,” he returned to his reserved composure.

“no thanks,” you paid and grabbed the order number from doyoung, relishing the way his fingers glide against yours. 

it takes doyoung a few seconds to switch back on, eyes watching as you leave. he can feel the anxiety building and he knows it’s a race against time if he wants you to wait until his break starts. 

“taeyong?” he says without a glance, still taking orders from the customer currently standing in front of him. 

taeyong hums as a reply, busy making a few different lattes and varying coffee orders. 

“skip the tiramisu latte until it’s half past ten.”

“was that your acquaintance?” taeyong takes a wild guess as he hands over the orders to yuta to serve onto the tables. 

“you have a friend?!” yuta, the exchange student from japan cackles as he takes the two drinks, before being shooed away by taeyong. 

“maybe,” doyoung mumbles as he passes taeyong the next drink order.

---

twenty minutes have passed since your order and no matter how crazy it is in the store, it doesn’t really justify why the couple who stood three people behind you is sipping on their drinks while you’re left with an empty table. 

is doyoung that mad that he trashed your order or something?

it’s almost ten thirty and you’re wondering if you should just leave if that was the case.

when you look back into the queue and onto the cashier bench, doyoung was nowhere to seen, replaced with the chinese part timer named winwin who you saw on various occasion.

you’re about to reach for your bag and search for him outside when someone leans over from your back and places a tiramisu latte and a strawberry tart in front of you. 

“leaving so soon?” doyoung mutters into your ear, before taking a seat next to you.

“you’re still here?” you question, wondering why he’s sitting with you.

“i’m on break,” doyoung clarifies as he dips his fork into the tart and scoops it into his mouth. 

you shrug and take small sips of your latte, relishing the sweetness and the way it was properly balanced with the light bodied coffee.

you could tell doyoung was observing your outfit and your overall look for today, almost calculating your next destination.

“are you going on a date?” he asks rather casually, though his hands put a little more pressure on forking the strawberries than needed.

you shrug once more, leaving it up to doyoung’s head-venly fantasies. 

“i think you are,” he continues, toying with the piece of fruit. “coincidentally, i’m going on one too.”

“oh really?” 

“yeah,” he exhales, “although my date’s been playing mind games with me for a while so i’m not quite sure what to do with them today.”

why did it seem that doyoung’s caught on? if you could break it down, it would have been that he approached jaehyun and cornered him. poor boy was weakhearted and probably told him that the two of you were just friends and there was nothing going on between the two of you.

he probably also spilled that you’ve been passing jaehyun supplements to give to doyoung. 

well, since he probably knows, it was probably time to stop the act. 

“well, your date probably wants you to stop glaring and explain if you’re mad or not.” you took another sip. suddenly, you felt so thirsty. “and also,” you inhaled deeply. “they probably want you to make it clear if you like them or not too.”

doyoung leans back in his seat, a smirk decorating his pretty lips. “oh, do you speak for my date now?”

“yeah, well” you look at him. “i think i know them better than you do.”

doyoung doesn’t speak for a while, pursing his lips in contemplation. “should we stop talking in third person? it’s getting tiring.”

you nod in confirmation and fold your arms against the table. “sure thing.”

“i do like you,” doyoung starts, getting your whole attention in a heartbeat. 

was he really going to start like that? 

really? 

like that????

“it’s been a while really,” he chuckles a little sad, glancing down before looking at you briefly. “but you know if we did date and my family finds out it’s not going to be pretty right?” 

you nod at that.

“well,” he clicked his tongue, “i thought if i did better than before, better than my brother,” wait. kim dongyoung has a brother? you never knew that. “i could perhaps bring it up to my... parents attention without making too much of a mess.”

“you know how hard i’ve been studying right (y/n)?” his hands places themselves on top of yours, lacing them together so naturally. you nod again, somewhat feeling apologetic. 

“now that i know you and jaehyun aren’t getting together in the midst of all my hard work for you,” he says through gritted teeth, but it seems more playful than real. “and that my family seems pretty satisfied with my results, i thought i can let you know.”

you stare right into doyoung’s glassy eyes. his eye bags are just as bad as before but there’s a sense of relief in his features. you know he’s been through so much and had so much to stress about. 

you don’t quite reply when doyoung starts talking about his great older brother and his achievements. 

about how he rebelled against his father when he was only sixteen and ran away from home since. about how he felt so lost for the longest him and had to support himself with barely any help from home.

about how he hated and loved his older brother at the same time. about how he appreciated his sibling for his support when he had no one else to lean on. about how his elder brother passed away last year due to an accident and how his father had turned to him distastefully to run the company after his reign.

he talks about how he didn’t really feel like he was living life until he met you and how he loved every second of the day he spent with you. 

“it’s not going to easy for the both of us. my father’s not a nice man and you know that. i know for sure that i won’t be the best boyfriend or partner in general. i have a temper and it’s quite... bad. i do get jealous,” and you smile at that, “and i wasn’t sure if i had time for love... but for you? 

i’ll make sure i do.”

doyoung’s eyes have always been so passionate that you melted at every eye contact. 

at the same time, there was always anxiety in them that you couldn’t find at this moment.

it’s been a long time since you have studied him and yet, it was the first time you saw such a sincerely honest expression on him. it had always felt as if he was trying so hard to suppress something, to bury something down. 

but at this moment, at this point in time, doyoung felt so innocently unadulterated and vulnerable. 

you nod with tears spilling. 

you know how he hated you crying, but you’re giving it your best guess that tears of joy don’t quite count. 

“so what do you say?” doyoung tucks a loose strand of hair behind your left ear. “can you take me on?”

you nod once again, leaning into doyoung’s arms as he wrapped them around you. 

“i can’t make you much promises,” you feel warm tears which aren’t yours on your cheeks, running down ever so gently. “but i can promise you that i’ll try my best to make this work.”

you look up at his face, as doyoung puts one hand above his expression, not quite wanting you to see him in a weakened state. 

placing his hand aside, you brush his tears away.

“that’s all i need.”

#ainct #doyoung #kim dongyoung #nct doyoung #nct 127 #nct u #nct dream #nct 2018 #wayv #nct drabbles #nct imagine #nct reaction #nct scenarios #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #kpop imagines #jaehyun #johnny #yuta #taeyong

[moistwithgender]

Monthly Media Roundup (April 2019)

April was a bit of a disaster month for me, and as such I didn’t get much of anything finished. Old wounds got reopened, I was sick all month, I had an unavoidably bad birthday, and a lifelong pet died. I didn’t engage with a lot of things, and mostly slept. I did play a lot of Breath of the Wild, but seeing as I didn’t finish that, I’m not including it yet. Here’s the things I did finish:

Games:

Blaster Master Zero (Switch): I actually first bought and finished this two years ago, and since the sequel has come out I decided to replay it with the Shovel Knight DLC character. While I genuinely like this game (I 100%’d it both times), I was not really in a good spot to enjoy this playthrough, and just kinda mindlessly pushed through it for nine consecutive hours, beating it in that single sitting. Playing as a DLC character removes the story, which is fine since they’re intended for replays, though I wonder if it added to my emotional disconnect. SK doesn’t receive fall damage, and so the precariousness of navigating the world outside of the highly-mobile tank doesn’t exist nearly as much, though the trade-off is that SK’s combat abilities in dungeons are hindered by an overall lack of range. The game is still rather easy, though, so I can’t say any particular level cadences or combat scenarios carved their way into my memory.

To the game’s credit, though, the things that are good about it are still good. If you have an attachment to the original NES game, or an interest in retro properties, or just want a nice, breezy platformer, it’s very good. It’s interesting in how it repurposes the altered plot of the US version of the original game (where it was its most popular), including even the plot of the little novelization that came out because Gotta Get Those Video Game Kids to Read Something. It has a fake out ending, and if you 100% the maps it unlocks a final map that is genuinely surreal enough to be the highlight of the game. Despite my sighing, it is a genuinely good time, and I’m very curious to play the new game, somewhat hilariously titled Blaster Master Zero 2.

Anime:

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime: I chewed through the last four episodes of this so that I could say I finally finished the season. I didn’t watch the post-season recap episode. TenSura (the abbreviation of the Japanese title, which I will use to refer to it because satisfyingly abbreviating the english title is impossible) is not a very good show, but for about half the length of the 24-episode first season, it fascinates due to how it functions at all. TenSura is an isekai show, much like the other isekai shows, where a person dissatisfied with their life is brutally murdered (usually by a truck. USUALLY by a truck) and is reborn in a fantasy world that coincidentally gives them an absurd advantage over other people, allowing them to live out all the decadence they felt they deserved in the real world. If this sounds like the most boring kind of wish fulfillment possible to you, that’s because it is. It’s also extremely popular with consumers. Which is interesting! I think the isekai boom is indicative of how late-stage capitalism everyday people the world over, that we envision or escape to worlds where your efforts actually return appropriate reward. A bonkers concept, to be sure.

In TenSura, the formula doesn’t stray much. The main character is a man in his 30s (?) who has never fucked and gets knifed to death while HEROICALLY saving a coworker from a plot-irrelevant stabber dude who was running down the sidewalk with his knife out for no reason besides Main Character Needs an Inciting Incident Now. It’s actually pretty weirdly violent for the start to a show that is almost entirely light-hearted. Dude dies, his coworker dumps his hard drive in the bath out of respect (lol), and he wakes up in a fantasy world that works on videogame logic, including loot, skill trees, and class upgrades. He is reborn as an adorable slime a la Dragon Quest, but the personality traits he had in his previous life (and I guess his choice of dying words) scan to obscenely convenient passive abilities that ensure he’s not only invincible, but will never stop experiencing exponential power growth. Also he immediately makes friends with a final boss-level dragon and then eats him. That’s how he makes friends in this sometimes.

I’m being very cynical here, but the core narrative loop (and it IS a loop) of the series kept my interest for longer than I expected. Rimuru (the name of the reborn protagonist) goes somewhere he hasn’t been, astonishes the nearby (sometimes violent) inhabitants with his overpowered abilities, makes friends with them, and then improves their lives with community. Goblins, direwolves, orcs, demon lords. It stacks and builds upon itself to absurd degrees but it’s interesting that in a genre loaded with very problematic stories of disenchanted dudes finally getting the underage harem they’ve always wanted (aaaaAAAAAAAAA) that the main concept of this series is improving the lives of others and giving them closure for the ways life has hurt them. Even if. Sometimes that hurt was the main character’s doing? Like Rimuru absolutely decapitates a direwolf leader and then adopts the pack who from then on absolutely LOVE the dude. Also one of Rimuru’s abilities is that if he gives a monster a name, it class upgrades, which is generally and reasonably seen as a life improvement. Though, these class upgrades are almost always decidedly “less-tribal” or outright human, which smacks of some imperialist thinking. It’s also something I’m sure I never questioned in old videogames growing up. Meanwhile, there’s also a bit with a woman who came from Japan during that one really bad war, you know the one, and the closure she’s given as she’s dying is handled with actual delicacy. It’s a weird series! It’s only a shame to me that after most of the first season, there was less to talk about. Sometime after the halfway mark, you realize the show is never going to maintain tension for more than half an episode, that all problems are solvable (yes, even terminally ill children), and that the show isn’t going anywhere you can’t predict. It’s a checklist show, and the plot points are a list of achievements being checked off one episode at a time.

I don’t think I would actually recommend the show to most people, despite how popular it is. It’s not a great show, but it does weird enough things for a while that it generates conversations. Which is honestly pretty okay. It’s a pretty okay show. Also, Rimuru is effectively nonbinary (with he pronouns), and that’s… somethin’! (24 episodes, finished 4/17/19, Crunchyroll (Funimation also now has the dub I think? Clips I saw were pretty weird, Rimuru seemed to be characterized differently.))

Manga:

Nejimaki Kagyu Vol 1: You would think a manga that immediately starts with a reference to Phantom Blood would be, well, at least interesting.

Okay maybe invoking a beloved work doesn’t actually mean anything. I just wanted to share this blatant callback. Nejimaki Kagyu is a seinen manga about a highschool teacher whose tragically cursed to, uh, have all teenage girls fall in love with him. And the highschool-age childhood friend of his who has spent her whole life obsessed with him and learning super martial arts to defend his chastity. Her supers make her clothes explode.

…

I take no joy in this travesty.

Anyway, uh. The biggest tragedy here is that the art is actually really good, though the paneling is regularly squished around to hilarious degree. Let’s look at some pages and then forget this manga exists forever.

That horror face is how I feel the entire series should be portraying itself. The manga has a distinct lack of self-awareness.

The fan translation for this series appears to have dropped off halfway through and hasn’t been picked up for years, and based on reviews I saw on MAL talking about the directionlessness of the later volumes, I wonder if the translator got fed up with the series. Oh well!

Kyou no Asuka Show Vol 1: Oh god damn it I just got done with talking about a series about ogling the youth.

BLEASE STOP

Okay so. Kyou no Asuka Show, or “Today’s Asuka Show” is an older slice of life manga by the same author I mentioned previously who is doing an edutainment series about people working in a condom factory. Innocently-minded women in comedically lewdish situations appears to be his whole bag. I think Asuka is pretty charming, but I also know she’s designed to appeal to my monkey male gaze. Obliviously sexy is very much a mood, and in a more adult context I would be all for it. There have been a few chapters where I find myself at odds with the wisdom the author is attempting to impart, sometimes through Asuka’s father, who works as an adult photographer, and doesn’t want his daughter involved in anything that could cause her to be ogled. Like, that’s already something that requires a lot of unpacking in the modern day. Aforementioned wisdom sometimes takes the form of Asuka doing something stupid and innocent and ripe for objectifying, like wearing a school swimsuit in a rainstorm. Or she’ll work a job as a cute girl courier and inadvertently turn a shut-ins life around. Situations where, if it were in real life, I’d think “wow that’s weird and charming,” but by being a work of intentional authorship, it inherently loses some of that innocence, and becomes something well-meaning but problematic. Is that the second time I’ve used the word “problematic” in this post? Is this 2014?

I may continue reading this, but I really can’t recommend it to most people I know in 2019 without several disclaimers and also without probably getting some side eye. I think it’s worth a couple chapters to feel out what its doing before you decide whether you can siphon the charm from it, or would rather move on to something else.

Me enjoying myself when this manga tries to suddenly get up to some shit.

Blue Period Vol 1: This is the last thing on my list, because I don’t want to expand this list beyond the three mediums I’ve already assigned to it. Also, I actually finished this May 1st, but I wanted to talk about it now.

If I had the power to actually get people to engage with a specific work once per month, Blue Period would easily be the one I pick. That doesn’t mean as much when all the other things I finished this month were conflicted experiences, but I really think everyone would benefit from this series. Or at least anyone with even a passing interest in visual arts.

Blue Period (named for Picasso’s Blue Period) is about a highschool delinquent who has a knack for studying, a safe social life, and no interests in pretty much anything. He’s on the road to do fine in his life, and he doesn’t question it much, but that’s it, until he discovers art and realizes it’s the only way he’s ever been able to truly communicate his feelings. It changes everything about him, for more emotionally satisfying reasons, but also riskier ones. He only has one year of highschool to go to decide what he’s doing with his life, and Japan has a very strict education system. You’re not really allowed to just “get around” to things.

Apologies in advance if you’re tired of me spamming full pages but I really do wanna show this off. This is another series with an educational angle to it, though the emphasis is definitely more rooted in a personal narrative of growth. The explanations of art practice and the functionality of exercises and tools are both very informative and relevant to the characters, never feeling like the story is taking a backseat to explain. The characters are, hilariously, everyone I’ve ever met in an art class. There’s the kid who would rather exclusively draw the things they like, there’s the kid who likes art as a hobby but haaaates being given a project, etc etc. There are students who have an innate grasp on how to draw but haven’t internalized the Why of the exercises, and students who are receptive to the lessons but don’t have the ability to match. The narrative is extremely even-handed towards all of these different levels of skills, and places a lot more importance on why, emotionally, you should totally care about drawing apples and water pitchers for five hours at a time. It’s GREAT and I want to force it on every creative I’ve ever known.

Another thing I appreciate about this series so far is that while there has been something resembling sexual/romantic tension, it’s kind of not like that at all? In the first volume I haven’t been able to pinpoint where a potential relationship subplot would go, if at all. Two possibilities are this girl:

...who is a very likable character but surprisingly doesn’t fit into that box of “standard love interest”. The protag’s interactions with her have been exclusively respectful and admiring, which doesn’t even necessarily imply a romantic subplot, but would be pretty cool if it did? And the other girl:

...who is featured in decidedly more sexual tension-y contexts, is actually TRANS. The manga actually portrays them so uncompromisingly feminine that I didn’t realize they were crossdressing (the term used in the text) until the author’s notes at the end of the volume. I will partially blame this on me being out of it this month, since I just went back to their introduction and yep, they got misgendered and contested it. Given how the character is regularly framed (confident, attractive, skilled, nonstereotypical), I’m… pretty okay with this! If a romance blooms between a delinquent boy and a trans girl, that’s amazing.

I hope y’all understand where I’m coming from in expecting a shoehorned romantic subplot. I’m not hoping for one, I just know the product by now. And if it happens, the options are considerably more interesting than usual.

These are pretty good kids.

Manga licensing is a lot better nowadays than it ever was before, with lots of obscure series being picked up, old series getting re-localized, and translations being better than ever. I really really want this series to get licensed so someone can be compensated for it, and so more people might read it. Until then, I think you should look up the fan work.

---

So that’s all for April. If these posts included live-action movies, I’d have talked about Endgame, but I also don’t want to go spoiling anything for someone who still wants to go see that (it’s probably one of my favorite MCU movies, though). I read most of 1970-71 in Marvel comics, or at least most of the issues on my reading list, but I semi-liveblog about those, so you can just search my “curry reads comics” tag for that. Here’s hoping I have more interesting, more positive things to say about May in a month. I expect to finish Breath of the Wild by then, so I’ll finally talk about that. Thanks for reading, if you made it this far! Go check out Blue Period.

#curry reads manga #curry watches anime #curry plays games

[bimmykimmy]

Are you the one who made that post of lumberjack!Hunk and witch!Keith, and if so is here a fic yet?

YES! I drew lumberjack!Hunk and witch!Keith and made the post of the au via twitter

oooOOOOOOOO boy I tell ya what

I….no. There is no fic. 

Actually, that’s a lie. I started one forever ago and never finished. So, what the heck! I’ll post what I have lol Entirely NOT proofread and ending with my weird plot notes that I had planned to write 

Each leaf has a story to tell, each root a tale, everycreature and critter skittering across the ground has a life of its own. Keithhad been taught this from a very young age. The trees, the wind, the decayingfoliage as the days grew colder all spoke to him.

Dayshave grown quieter with his mother gone. Keith isn’t sure when, if ever, she’llreturn. The morning she departed was cold, the autumn air biting at his skin.Her face had held a distant look, one Keith would remember strikingly in hismind for many, many days thereafter. With the wind rustling the crimson andorange leaves and her delicate hand brushing against his cheek, she was gone.

Keith kept up with his daily duties; preparing sachets,practicing incantations, burning sage in the darker parts of the woods; alongwith the less interesting things such as sweeping, making sure spider websstayed intact, pulling weeds in the garden. He made sure that the cabin waskept just the way it was the day she left.

He sitsnow on the deep maroon chaise lounge with his legs dangling over the arm rest,a weathered book in his lap. His familiar, Dærg, perches on the backrest andflutters his wings to settle into a more comfortable position. Keith looks upfrom his book and smiles while lifting his hand up to give Dærg a littlescratch with his finger.

  Thebook in his lap is a dull story, one meant probably to tell of some biggermoral by the end of it. Keith isn’t too invested in it and promptly snaps itshut. The noise reverberates off the walls of the house, solidifying just howempty it has become. He needs to find more supplies soon. He’s probably runningout of food too.

 Goinginto town is always a chore, and one that Keith has never been too fond of.

 “Iguess I can’t live off of chai and raspberries forever, can I?” He asks Dærgwho merely peers down at him momentarily before tending to some feathers on herwing.

Keithlets out a sigh and plops the book down on the wooden floor. The sun is justabout to go down and its rays bleed out against the dusk sky, orange floodinginto his room through the window. Just as he gets out of his chair, Dærgsuddenly caws loudly, agitated. She outstretches her wings and flaps them oncethen twice, hopping around on the backrest. Her little crow feet leave tinymarks in the maroon fabric.

 Hetilts an eyebrow at her, “What’s your problem?”

 But hehas is answer before his question finishes.

Hesenses it; the disturbances in the woods, the distressed cries of the treespirits. He makes his way to his window, placing his hands on the sill andpeers out the window. The shift of winds is indicative of unease. Something isnot right. Keith feels the air around him grow sour too, like everything is onedge, irritated. He has never felt anything quite like it. It doesn’t feeldangerous, just…curious.

Hepurses his lips in thought just before deciding to investigate. Turning on hisheel, he grabs his cowl and quickly wraps it around his shoulders beforeheading out of his cabin.

Thedusk air is chilled as the wind sweeps the leaves on the ground. Keith pressesa hand to his forehead, pinning his bangs out of his eyes. He’s regretting notgrabbing a hat now, but he wants to get to the bottom of whatever thisdisturbance is.

Hetravels barely an acre before he senses it again. That odd unrest in the woods;something unthreatening but definitely not supposed to be there. After a whilehe notices one of the talismans he had laid out a few days back has beenwrecked. The broken twigs and disturbed foliage around it are a telltale signof something big plowing through these pathways.

Keithkneels down and narrows his eyes, fingers delicately caressing bits of his worknow ruined. He isn’t going to deny the surge of annoyance that currently filledhim. He works hard on these things! His mother always taught him that they wereimportant to keep the balance in the woods—the spirits of the trees likedhaving them there.

It isjust then he hears a large cracking noise. It startles him, though barely, andhe looks up suddenly towards the echoing sound. The sun still slowly sinks intothe sky, now a brilliant gradient of oranges and purples. Keith stands up, pocketingsome bits of the talisman, and heads over to the clearing in the trees.

Hisfootsteps are light, tentative. He isn’t sure what is beyond the treeline so hemustn’t be too hasty. The trees aren’t too bare yet, so he can’t quite seewhat’s in the clearing. When he finally pushes past some of the brush a gaspescapes him.

Thelarge man has his back turned to Keith. Keith stares at him for a bit. He hason a large flannel with the sleeves rolled up, and in his hands he wields arather impressively sized ax. The man turns, his face now in profile and hiseyes seem to glisten with an odd determination Keith finds rather…attractive.He feels himself gulp. Just as soon as these intrusive thoughts enter his mind,however, they promptly dispel as the man lifts his massive ax once again. He’sabout to bring it down on a tree (that from what Keith can see, has alreadysuffered some damage) when Keith pushes past the remaining brush and rushesinto the clearing.

“Whatthe hell are you doing?!” He makes ab-line towards the man, who appears to be confused more than startled by hissudden outburst.

 The manturns towards Keith and lowers his ax. His eyebrows are up to his hairline andhis lips begin to form questioning words. Keith cuts him off by bending down andsnapping back up with part of a ripped sachet in his hand. He positions thissachet directly at the man, shaking it pointedly in his face as he speaks.

“You’reruining all my hard work!” He scoffs again as his eyes catch another ruinedpiece. He mumbles as he squats down to pick it up. “Can’t believe this. Of allthe rude, inconsiderate—”

 “Whatare you doing this far out in the woods?” The man’s voice comes as a surprise.It isn’t rough, but it does have a sort of husky tone to it. That ax looks sosmall in his massive hands, Keith notices. He pulls his gaze away and sets hisexpression back to annoyance.

It israther unsuccessful; if the man’s tilted eyebrow and smirk is any indication.

Keithhuffs and turns a cold shoulder, picking up more of his ruined work.

 Hehears the crunching of leaves as the large man rounds him, leaning and peeringover Keith as he crouches. “Y’know, these woods are dangerous.”

Keithstands and realizes just how close he is to the stranger. So close and holyshit this man is huge. Despite thishilarious difference in size, Keith does not falter in his actions. He pointsright in the man’s face, to which the man’s eyes cross ever so slightly, and grumbles,“I am what makes these woodsdangerous.”

To anyonlooker (which there are none) the pose is rather amusing. A smaller, thoughnot incapable, witch pointing an angry finger in the face of a bulginglumberjack holding an ax in his calloused hands.

   Thestranger blinks and smiles. The expression is somewhat a mix of sheepishnessand…is that flirtation? No, it’s confusion.

“Getout of my woods,” Keith threatens as he promptly turns and stomps back out ofthe clearing.

–

Keithmakes his way back through the woods, grumbling and picking up bits of brokentalismans. The large buffoon must’ve been stomping through the trees for hours before Keith noticed! He would dobetter next time; keeping his senses entirely honed on the woods. The woods arehis responsibility. Once under the protection of his mother, and now his. It ishis duty to keep them safe from the townsfolk. They are much too sacred tosimply have those disrespectful mouth breathers pillaging through them everytime they got a little cold and needed fire. They simply cannot tell thedifference between a tree whose spirit is still attached and one that isacceptable to cut down. Keith remembers his mother’s ghastly screams when thelast woods they lived in had been entirely burnt down due to a lazy guardsmanwho’d fallen asleep while holding a torch. Keith tries forgetting the pain onher face, but he knows he cannot forget the rage. The raw power that emanatedfrom her at that time is enough to give Keith shivers now. He was so youngthen. He hardly remembers, or perhaps doesn’t want to, what she did to thosetownsfolk.

 With hisreverie successfully distracting him, he takes a roundabout way back to hiscabin. He double checks many areas in the woods to make sure his other workshave not been disturbed. Luckily, the large man must’ve taken a straight pathin the woods from the clearing nearest town. Keith clicks his tongue inannoyance and readjusts the cowl over his shoulders as he places remnants ofhis ruined charms on a barrel next to his front door. He’ll make more later.Now he has to worry about his dwindling supplies.

As soonas he turns the knob on his old wooden door and pushes it in with someresistance, Keith hears a whistle not far behind him. His spine goes straight andhis eyes widen. His whole body snaps around and reveals the stranger standingjust beyond the small stone path that leads to his front door.

 “Thisis beautiful,” The stranger says as his eyes scan Keith’s house. “You know, Ihelped my father craft a cabin not too different from this once. The archedroof above the front door isn’t too popular anymore.”

Keithis speechless. His jaw slackens; mouth opening agape as he blinks owlishly athim. In an attempt to form words, he blinks again and shakes his head ever soslightly. His lips begin to form into “Wh—”

“Do youlive here?” He asks and starts coming up to Keith. “You’re not the only onehere, are you? Isn’t it lonely?”

Hisfootsteps were much softer than before, barely audible against the stone path.As he came closer, Keith felt a sudden rush of panic.

What ishe doing here? Why did he follow Keith? Keith has never had anyone come to hiscabin. No one really knows where it is! Or at least, no one is supposed to know. That is one of therules his mother had established after leaving their last home. Why had he beenso careless and not made sure the stranger didn’t follow?!

Keithbacks away and is suddenly stumbling into the threshold of his house. Any traceof intimidation is quickly lost as his heart races at the idea of his large manentering his house too.

 “Y-youcan’t be here!” Keith suddenly spouts, regaining some stability. There is awarmth on his face that confuses him, but he ignores it for now and simplyfurrows his brow as best he can.

 Thestranger stops in his tracks. “Oh,” He says, and his voice has an air to itthat makes Keith shiver. “No?” His expression changes only slightly. His aurais anything but threatening. Ifanything, it is innocently curious. He obviously wants to press further.

Keithretaliates. “N-no you can’t. So, leave!” He senses the lack of authority in hisvoice and so does the stranger.

Hetakes a step closer, putting his ax down and lifting his hands in surrender.“It’s just…you have such a lovely place here. I thought I could…well, with yourpermission. Can’t I just—”

 “No!” Keithtakes one large step back and reaches out to the door, slamming it shut with aloud bang.

Hestands there leaning back against the door for what feels like an eternity. Hiswide eyes stare down at the floor. Eventually he brings a hand up to his chest,pressing his palm softly against it and feeling the insane fluttering of hisheart.

The sunis just barely dipping into the horizon, painting the sky a brilliantly darkpurple as the stars begin to pepper its wide canvas. Keith takes a steadybreath, shifting to the side to peer out the window.

Thestranger is gone but there is something written on the small patch of dirtwhere Keith had been having trouble growing grass. He squints and leans forwardto try and read it. Doing this, however, only makes him bump his head againstthe glass and he grunts. He leans away from the window sill and rubs hisforehead for a moment before glancing at the door.

 Thecool autumn air is only slightly shocking as Keith opens the door and pokes hishead out. His eyes shift left and right, surveying the tree line. He doesn’tsense any disturbance in the woods anymore and finally steps out of hisdoorway. He usually doesn’t take so much precaution, but he feels like thestranger is still there. Or rather…maybe he hopes the stranger is still there.It had been so long since Keith interacted with anyone other than a few mumblesto the farmers and artisans he occasionally bought supplies from.

Thereis a stick off to the side not far from the written message.

“Sorry!”Is all it says.

–

 Hunkcan’t get that man from the woods out of his mind.

 Theeee end.

here are the notes I wrote:

Keith is the blair witch?? Sets up spooky things to keeppeople away from the woods

Ambiguous time/setting, but there are definitely witch hunts

Hunk gets cursed because he keeps messin up shit in thewoods

It was keith’s mom who cursed him

#heith #ayyyy #long post #lumberjack au #if you were asking because you wanted to write one yourself then GO RIGHT AHEAD #if you were just asking then....i hope my poopy writing is ok haha #i know nothing of witches please forgive me

[wanderbitesbybobbie]

REST IF YOU MUST: Chronicles of an Exhausted Working Student

Apologies for the loooong gap from my last blog post. It’s yet another long story to tell. So almost a year ago, I decided to put myself in a situation where I can push myself to be the best of what I can be. For those of you who doesn’t know yet, I am a Chef Technologist slash Cake Decorator slash Travel Writer slash Travel and Food Photographer slash all that comes in between. In the pursuit of trying to upgrade my skills and finding what I really want to be, I left my start-up Pastry Business in Manila  (and all other “rackets” for that matter), packed my bags, flew to Australia, took a course in Advanced Patisserie and basically, it all started there. It has been crazy for the past couple of months. I have been shifting through different kinds of jobs while studying, and finally I landed at an Italian Fine Dining restaurant as a Pastry Chef. Whoooott!!! Goals unlocked.

LIVING THE DREAM

PASTRY CHEF – It has been my ultimate dream (or so I thought). The trial was not easy. I had to bake some bread, was asked to do some sugar decors, and plated for ala carte desserts for the first time. I even thought I wouldn’t get the job because first, I have no experience in a Fine Dining Set-up. Second, I am holding a student visa with limited work rights. But then after 24 hours, I was at the train station with my best guy friend and I received the call. THIS IS IT! I got in! My first days as a pastry chef was a bit of an adjustment. It was a very fast-paced environment. But, I didn’t mind. It was Fine Dining right beside the lake. The set-up was soooo good and I knew I would learn a lot from this place.

That view. <3

Of course, the title comes with responsibilities. My head chef would always tell me that she will train me to be a kick-ass pastry chef, as if the kitchen is a “survival-of-the-fittest” jungle. It didn’t come to me in an instant, but eventually, I have learned that it was! As a pastry chef, I have to bake the Ciabatta Bread for service the moment I step foot in the kitchen. I also have to do some preps for Ala Carte and functions, and at the same time I have to do the plating during service period as well. It is an enjoyable job for me.

  Function Plating: Meringue, Fresh Berries, Passion Fruit Sauce, and Fresh Cream.

Nothing excites me more than plating desserts. I always get this relaxing feeling every time I put something on the plate. But plating for more than 100 people is a different story.

My job as a Pastry Chef includes plating for more than 100 people during functions and plating for ala carte service as well. There are times when I am by myself at the Pastry Section and looking back during the past months, I have no idea how I kept on surviving each function (thanks to my co-workers for helping me survive each day).

Plating Mixed Berries Panna Cotta for 150 pax.

                  WHEN YOUR JOB GETS TOO MUCH EXCITING AND YOU FORGET YOU’RE ALSO A STUDENT

So for months, I was enjoying it. I didn’t mind the long working hours. Most days, I just go home to catch some sleep, take a shower, and get changed. I spent most of the time in the pastry kitchen. Realizing at some point that I was way behind my school works, I was doomed. Being a student is… well, we’ve all been students, but being an International student taking up Advanced Patisserie is another story to tell. We have to meet deadlines, we have to pass every subject, we have to come to kitchen classes, we have to undergo assessments every now and then. Why? Because there’s the chance of getting your Australian Visa cancelled if you fail to meet the requirements. Damn! So here goes cramming. In between my shifts, I had to do school works. I come home from work at around 10:30 to 11 in the evening, I turn on my laptop and try to get some school work done.

PHYSICALLY AND MENTALLY DRAINED

At some point, I realized how tiring it was to be doing school and work at the same time. There were times when I had to miss classes because I was too tired from doing functions the previous night. It was a balancing act to begin with, which I didn’t handle effectively. The thought of living the dream as a Pastry Chef took the best of me, and suddenly I started feeling sick. I started losing weight. I started feeling weak. Until one day, it all came to me. I had this terrible headache which didn’t go away for days, I started feeling numb and dizzy, and I had pins and needles on my hands. I started losing sensations on my hands and started dropping things. WTH! This wasn’t what I had in mind.

Spell HAGGARD!

I don’t usually go on sick leaves unless I’m really sick, but this time it was different. I had to call in sick, but at the back of my mind, I was worried about my Focaccia Dough. I was worried about the upcoming functions. I was worried about a lot of things that was work related. I didn’t even worry about how I was feeling until I had to get myself checked. My superiors were very kind and understanding and it was them who told me to take a rest. “HEALTH AND FAMILY COMES FIRST. REST IF YOU MUST. DON’T WORRY ABOUT WORK.” Those were the exact words from my head chef. OK. So the verdict comes next.

SLOW DOWN, TAKE YOUR CHILL-PILL

I went to a Physio-Therapist thinking it was just my Scoliosis acting up on me. But apparently, it wasn’t the issue. There were a lot of things going on so he told me to consult my GP, request for a Cervical Spine CT Scan, and he gave me a slip that I wasn’t fit to work. WHAATTT? -_-

So I went to the GP, told him my symptoms, and he seemed calm. OK. At that point, I was calm as well. But then he suddenly told me… “I see the symptoms of Multiple Sclerosis. Aside from your CT Scan, I would like you to visit a Neurologist. Just to be sure. Because, MS doesn’t show on the scans.” He started explaining what MS was and my brain started to become a blur. Multiple what? So… I am undergoing therapy for my nerves and still finding the time to visit the Neuro as of this writing. I’ll do it this coming week. So help me God.

Catching up on school works.

 LESSON LEARNED: WORK HARD, BUT WORK SMART. LEARN WHEN TO TAKE A REST.

I must admit. I have been a workaholic. I have been abusive. I made my body work so much, in the expense of my health thinking I was just pursuing my dream. All I ever thought was working, paying bills, paying rent, having the means to live how I wanted to live, that I forgot the essence of living. As the cliche goes, we weren’t born to work, pay bills, and die. It wasn’t worth it. I took a leave from work, which made me terribly sad and frustrated with myself. But I am indeed thankful that my superiors were very understanding about it. It’s not like I had a choice as my doctors told me I wasn’t fit for work at the moment. Even my Physio is worried with how my nerves are going. “Barbara, don’t work too much for now, but get your work done.” It’s hard for me as I got used to hustling, and all of a sudden everyone wants me to take a rest.

I still get to plate desserts at school though.

I have the time for myself now, not because I want that time, but because I need to find the energy and strength to go on and pursue again. At least I still have the chance do pastries in school.

Thank you Lord I managed to finish my Chocolate Showpiece despite the on and off fevers, and pins on my hands.

Sometimes the most urgent thing you can possibly do is take a rest. Feel what your body is trying to tell you. There is a fine line between resting and quitting. I shall update you with what happens next, but for now… I’m gonna catch some shut-eyes. Student mode on tomorrow. LOL.

  REST IF YOU MUST: Chronicles of an Exhausted Working Student was originally published on WanderBitesByBobbie

[michelebacon]

Autumn 2017 YA Scavenger Hunt

I love scavenger hunts. Love them! In years past, 1977 and I hosted a daylong event called Bacon Hunt. Formerly known as The Amazing Scavenger Race Hunt, every Bacon Hunt incorporated elements of The Amazing Race and an epic scavenger hunt. ​Hmmm...it's about time for another one of those. Mark your calendars for Mary 19th, 2018. But this post isn't about us, it's about YOU. You're on the YA Scavenger Hunt, and it is ON!

(If you are new to this and want to play for fabulous prizes, find the skinny here.) I'm on the red team this season, so you'll find my secret number in red somewhere in this post. Add the numbers of the 20 members of the red team, and enter the contest to win 20 free books! Here they are:

​A copy of my first book is included in the Red Team Prize for this season's hunt, but I also am offering a separate prize: a finished copy of Life Before​ PLUS an ARC of my new book, Antipodes. Entering the drawing for my bonus prize is simple: follow me on Twitter! For an additional chance to win, leave a comment on this blog post indicating your favorite contemporary YA novel. ​

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Now you know what you're playing for, so on to the hunt! ​​ ​This season, I'm hosting bestselling author MK Harkins, author of Famous by Default. MK has always been a voracious reader. After hitting a dry spell of reading material, she decided to write the kind of book she'd like to read.

Here's MK Harkins: I wrote my first Young Adult Paranormal novel (The Reader) originally as a stand-alone. But with some coaxing (in some cases begging – lol) I decided to write a sequel. Below is an exclusive (unedited) sneak peek at the first part of Chapter One.   Chapter One Archer Cannon Beach, Oregon I should be dead.      Pain shot through me like someone had pierced my heart with an ice pick.  I lowered my head and closed my eyes. God, the rejection was as physical as it could get.      Why didn’t I just stay in Samara and get blown to bits with the other Jacks?         “Are you okay?” A girl’s voice cut through my fog.      How long had I been sitting on the bench staring at the ocean this time? Correction. Staring at Ann. I hadn’t been aware someone sat right next to me.      I shot the girl beside me a quick glance. Pretty. Probably eighteen or so. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty. Most guys would sit up and take notice. The only girl I could see, or would ever want to look at, was a hundred yards away. With her husband. My cousin and former best friend.      I hated him almost as much as I loved her.      “Beautiful family,” she observed.      Whatever. I pushed down the searing pain and took a deep breath to keep my pounding heart steady. “I like to people watch. It can be entertaining,” I told her as I turned away from Ann and stared at the ocean. The intruder needed to leave before I snapped.      “Do you know them?” The girl tipped her head in the direction of my obsession.      The words slipped out before I could filter.  “I knew a girl like her a long time ago. I loved her deeply.” I wanted to stop but kept going. “But I made mistakes and I couldn’t fix them.” What was wrong with me? I hadn’t talked to anyone in two years and now I was giving this stranger my life story. I shifted my glance toward her. Two clear blue innocent eyes stared back at me.      Just a normal girl sitting with me on the bench.      “That’s too bad.” She frowned.      I turned my eyes back to Ann. She laughed as she dipped her son’s toes into the lapping waves.      “Did you ever try to make things right?” the girl asked.      “I sacrificed my happiness for hers.” And handed her right over to Devon, my best friend. “Painful, but worth it.” My thoughts drifted back to the night of the explosion. “I saved her life, but it was her who really saved mine.”      The girl placed her hand over her heart. “Oh, that’s so romantic.”      I stifled an eye roll. It wasn’t romantic. I’d lost Ann forever. Misery rippled through me like the waves assaulting the shore a short distance away. A mortal would never understand. All of them were the same. So simplistic.      “Will you see her again?”      “No,” I said while staring directly at Ann.      “Hey,” the girl said softly.      I forced my gaze away from Ann to the stranger’s ice blue eyes. Unusual color.  “Yeah?”      “I know what it’s like. You know, being alone.”      I almost laughed. I wanted to ask, Oh, you do? You know what it’s like to be living with people for thousands of years and yet be completely alone? To form friendships knowing there would be a day you’d have to make a choice and maybe betray them? To trust your mother only to find out she was an imposter? To finally fall in love, have it change everything, and then lose her at the last moment?      I could never get closer to Ann than I was right now, partially hidden by an ancient boulder and some beach scrub. Devon would either kill me on the spot or put me in the Colorado Compound. Out of the two choices, I’d go with death. The Jail Compound was built as an example to all The Readers. If you committed murder you were sent there for all eternity. An eight by ten box without windows or any human interaction. Only scraps of food thrown in a few times a day. Dark, musty, and cold. A living hell. I shivered remembering my last visit. Torment and the lack of hope were the only visible signs of life in the inmate’s eyes. They’d be better off dead.      I had killed my friend Marcus and betrayed the Readers, so I had a one-way ticket with my name on it.  If I killed Marcus, why couldn’t I remember it? The bench below me felt like cold marble. Atarah. She posed as my mom for over two thousand years. Pure evil. I wondered what part she played in this.      I shook off the idea. Didn’t matter. I’d never know. The Readers would never believe me anyway and Atarah was long dead. The truth died with her and all the Jacks when Samara was annihilated. All of them except for one.      As long as I could see Ann and know she was okay was good enough for me. I didn’t need anyone or anything else. I deserved to be alone and accepted it.      “Are you okay?” the girl asked for the second time.      No. “I usually sit here alone.” Take the hint and leave.      “Oh.” Her voice dropped. “It’s just that, well—“      The ground beneath us began to shake.  “What was that?” I scanned the beach and all I could make out was the short grass blowing in the breeze.  “An earthquake?” Ann and her family were the only people in sight and continued to splash around in the shallow waves like nothing had happened. The houses behind me stood solid, no difference. Must be my imagination. But something was off. Where were all the seagulls?      The girl lowered her head and closed her eyes. “No, no, no,” she gasped.      The ground continued to shake. “I think it’s just a little earthquake.” I pointed behind us. “Look, the houses all look fine. No damage.”      She lifted her head slowly and we locked eyes. Arctic eyes. Blue like a glacier. A chill ran down my spine.      “What’s going on?” I asked. In her eyes, something shimmered. What the hell?       She blinked slowly. “The epicenter is ninety miles offshore. That means you have fourteen minutes to warn Ann and her family to get to higher ground before the wave hits.”      I grabbed her shoulders. “What are you talking about. How did—” I dropped my hands. A buzzing sensation had started at my fingertips and worked down my arms. “Who are you?” I shouted and stood to shake out my arms.      ​“I’m, I’m…no one. Forget you saw me.”      “The hell I will. How do you know about Ann? Is this a trap?” I yelled at the girl. Her eyes bulged and she shook her head. “Tell me right now.”      “I can’t.” Thanks for reading!  I should have it ready for publication by the end of 2017. ? Add it to your Goodreads list here.  Thank you for sharing, MK! ​And thanks to you, hunters, for participating! You will find MK Harkins on her website, Facebook, and goodreads. 

You're on the Red Team's hunt, and now you're off to visit award-winning novelist Laurisa White Reyes. Happy hunting!

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