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flowerwrites06 · 3 years

Text

break my mind’s eye special — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 7k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation

Walking through the dark halls of permanently stained apartment building, Jungkook finally stood in front of a familiar number written on the text. He rapped at the wooden door a few times hearing a couple of grunts and rummaging from the other side. He sighed. “It’s me, Hoseok, you don’t have to hide the weed.”

“ Oh! ”

A few locks clicked here and there before the door swung open to welcome a light air of smoke mixed with the stench alone that could make Jungkook high. Hoseok gave him a loose smile, holding onto his arm as a wide grin spread across his lips. “You finally made it!”

Jungkook hummed trying not to grimace too much at the smell as the older male closed the door behind them.

“Come on, tell me…” Hoseok patted his back, prancing towards the couch where the coffee table was exuding smoke.

The apartment was miniscule with one bedroom door open on the left and a tiny kitchen on the right with a window next to the fridge. Another one near the dining table. Walls were a gross green tint and the floors a dull brown with black velvet couches that were ripped a little at the edges. But Jungkook could not complain.

“Tell you what?” The younger male dropped his bag on the floor and sat on the couch next to him, burying his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

Hoseok picked his joint back up and hovered it near his lips. “What was prison like?” He sucked in his cheeks causing the ambers to light up at the end before he blew the thick smoke away from Jungkook.

“Like living with a bunch of criminals. What else?”

“So just like old times then.” Hoseok smirked.

Jungkook glanced at the male for a moment before scoffing out a chuckle. “Yeah…pretty much.” Except there was one difference. Every time he pranced with criminals like himself in the past, he was a leader. In prison, he was young, fresh meat. Before he would also come back home to a warm embrace in bed instead of a steel bed alone with a stinky roommate.

“Well it’s all over now.” He blew out another puff of smoke, shifting to rest his head back against the couch. “You can start doing something else with your life. Something different. Not a lot of people like us get that chance.”

For the first time, he noticed a slight sadness in Hoseok’s tone despite being pumped with artificial endorphins.

His eyes flickered down to the coffee table, noticing the burger wrappers and scattered newspapers. One of them immediately caught his eye. Jungkook sat up again, pulling one of them out of the pile, the right corner of his lips twitched seeing the familiar face.

‘ FAMED DESIGNER KIM BELLE RULES TOKYO FASHION WEEK ’

A side by side picture of a model wearing violet and gold ensemble which almost resembled the traditional kimono with a modern, royal twist. The picture on the right showed her. Belle wearing a simple black dress with her gorgeous waves out and a gracious smile spread across her lips.

‘ Twenty seven year old fashion designer Kim Belle takes all the popularity and buzz with her winter designs for Tokyo Fashion Week. Showing her long love for traditional Japanese fashion culture along with an inspiring movement for domestic violence and trafficking victims by showcasing broken chains and kimono style gowns. An elegant mix of grace and fight for personal freedom. Truly an impressive successor to the legend that was Madame Saito and we are definitely going to keep an eye out for more of her daring projects. ’

“She made a big damn name of herself.” Hoseok broke through the thick coat of silence Jungkook had around him.

“She deserves it.” More than I ever did.

The older male searched his expression for a moment, scoffing a little. “Dude, I have to ask.”

Jungkook met his gaze as he leaned back onto the couch again with the newspaper still in his hands. “What?”

“Why her?”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you—literally could’ve had anyone in the entire country to pose as your fake wife or whatever. But you chose a fashion designer who barely knew anything about you to begin with…” Hoseok shook his head with a light wince. “What was your angle?” Some part of him did not want to believe Jungkook simply blackmailed someone for his own amusement because he knew the man was better than that.

Jungkook wished he had a decent reason to blurt out to him. Maybe he was just inherently evil and wanted to hurt Belle for his own pleasure. Maybe he wanted to fuck her one time just for kicks before dragging her out a little further until it was too much. Maybe he was just sick in the head, wanting to claim a girl who could not say a word against him because her and her brother’s life were wrapped around his finger. Except none of them felt like the truth. “I honestly thought she’d say no.”

“Oh fuck off—”

“Seriously I…” He shrugged a little. “I really thought she was going to punch me and storm out of there with her brother.”

“But the guards wouldn’t let her. I mean—no offense, buddy but you would’ve probably killed her. Knowing you from back then.” Hoseok scrunched his nose lightly.

“She did something ten times more dangerous though.” Jungkook couldn’t resist the jolt of pride bursting in him. “I destroyed her—so she waited until she destroyed me.”

Hoseok chortled a little, voice incredibly raspy. “I wouldn’t call going to jail for your crimes destroying you but sure…”

Jungkook shared a small laugh, nodding as he looked at her picture again. He could almost still feel her soft skin underneath his palm. How her hair smelled when he would hug her from behind as they slept, the way it soothed him to a calmer sleep.

“It’s a thing of the past though…” He tilted his head as his expression turned a little more serious. “…right? No more pulling her into shit she doesn’t deserve?”

“Yeah—yeah, of course.”

“Good…cause Belle’s the star of the city now. One wrong move towards her, you’re back in jail or worse.” Hoseok raised his brow a little making sure there was not a hint of determination on that young face of doing anything stupid. “You don’t have guards or power by your side and Taehyung isn’t addicted anymore. Has a wife and kid…he’s got the dad anger. So he will beat the living shit out of you if you give him the motivation.”

“I know, Hobi.” Jungkook chuckled, patting his thigh gently. “I don’t want her to go through it again either.”

Hoseok hummed a little taking another waft from his joint as he looked out the window, the sky tinted purple. “Alright. I’m gonna go and eat my girlfriend out.” He patted his shoulder, walking up to his bedroom.

“You had to look at the time for that?” Jungkook winced despite the grin on his face.

“Brother, when you’re together for this long, things need schedules.” He walked out of the bedroom with a black duffel bag putting out the joint onto the ashtray. “Food’s in the fridge and there’s Netflix open on the laptop.”

Jungkook waved him off before the door clicked close leaving him in his thoughts. For some reason, all he could do was look back at the newspaper and try to salvage that warm feeling again. The feeling of a true home that could never be.

Purple faded into a deep blue across the skies as Jungkook paced around the apartment in his bare torso, scattered with more imperfect tattoos. One cellmate liked doing tattoos because it calmed him down so the younger male did not hesitate much to let him use his skin. He was a nice man who had been thrown in jail for being a drug mule all his life and Jungkook could not help but have a nauseating guilt in his stomach.

Drug mules were essentially trafficked human slaves from Jungkooks’ experience. Their owners use their lives and bodies to transport goods without being detected and usually they start off terrifyingly young or desperate or both. All this service was done for almost little to no money. They were more abused victims than criminals but the legal system were not good at telling the difference sometimes.

Jungkook allowed his body to be used as if giving himself some kind of cathartic relief allowing the broken soul to control something else for a while instead of being controlled. Thus his skin now littered with designs of devil horns, tiger flowers and his own personal request was a tiny print font ‘B’ on his collarbone. No one could truly see it up close but he wanted to feel it there.

Chugging a generous sip from his beer bottle, he quietly observed the night sky glimmering with stars while the city shone in neon. The one thing his mansion lacked was the clear view of how alive everything looked at night.

A knock sounded on the door causing his head to shoot to the side.

Hoseok should not have been home at this hour. Even if he was, the man would not knock in his own apartment.

Jungkook opened the kitchen drawer and brandished a knife before making his way over to the door. Another knock sounded again. It was a gentle knock. Almost shy. But he knew better than soften up so easily. Carefully, he peeked through the peephole trying not to make too much of a sound even though the wooden floors creaked far too much.

His heart jumped right up to his throat seeing the familiar face on the other side. Jungkook almost dropped the knife on the floor trying to focus as best as he could. Was he drunk already? Was he dreaming? Gulping down, he placed the knife on the side table along with the beer bottle and opened the door.

When the view became clear to him, Jungkook let out a sharp breath. “Belle.”

Her hair was shorter up to her shoulders compared to the length in the newspaper picture except she still always kept her natural waves. Eyes a little glazed while her flushed lips spread into a weak smile before pressing them together again. “I-I don’t–I don’t know why I’m here.” Belle’s furrowed her brows a little.

“It’s okay.” He whispered. “Come in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” Jungkook smiled even though a small tinge of sadness shone in his eyes.

He opened the door further for her to enter before closing it behind him. Eyes flickered down to her grey sweatpants and frilly white socks paired with a thick sweater like she just woke up from a nap.

Belle kept her back to him for a few minutes, pretending to observe the apartment even though she was really just trying to figure out why she was here. Questions muddled her mind over and over again. Any valid or logical answer. There was nothing. No reason to be standing here when she tried so hard to walk away from him. She did everything to get away. Now she walked right back without any coercion.

Jungkook tilted his head attempting to meet her gaze but decided not to force it too much. “You cut your hair.” A smile twitched on his lips. “It looks nice.”

She absentmindedly touched her waves, breathing out a small chuckle. “Thank you.”

“Uh—how did you know I was here?”

“Namjoon helped me track you down.” Belle mumbled, guilt pooling in the pit of her belly going behind Yoongi’s back like this. She still remembered what Namjoon said when he gave her the address.

‘I’m only giving you this because I know you’re tough as nails…no matter what people say to you…but the second anything goes wrong, you call me.’ Namjoon had become a close friend in the last few years. He had been escorting her back and forth from home to work.

Yoongi had been disallowed to see her after being undercover so he could get a proper therapy before doing field work again. So Namjoon seemed the next obvious choice to take care of her.

Finally Belle turned around to face him, eyes raking down his torso and seeing new designs etched on his skin. Not as precise as the phoenix but still beautiful. “The tattoos look good.”

Jungkook glanced down at his torso with a soft grin. “A friend did them for me.” He met her gaze again even though she quickly averted it, plunging silence back into the room as they waited for it to be filled. “Belle…why are you here?”

Her body deflated as the question lingered in the air, lump growing in her throat while her knees kept trembling. “I—” Belle closed her eyes. “I mis—I missed you.” She smiled sadly before trailing her glossy gaze away again. “It sounds stupid when I say after so long.” Her voice kept getting constricted from the lump, tears filling at the brim of her eyes. “But I still think about you…I still kept that—stupid letter after all these years.”

A familiar warmth seeped through his veins knowing she missed him but it still mixed with dread and guilt. Jungkook scarred her memories forever with his presence and she was so confused on what it meant. He could see the way she shifted and looked away as if trying to push reality away but face it all the same. “I hurt you a lot. I’m so sorry—if I—if I could do it all over again, I’d do it better.”

“How could it have been better?” Belle shook her head. “We met when my brother owed you a debt.”

Jungkook raised his shoulders. “Maybe we’d have met at your boutique.” He attempted to smile a little at the thought of just walking into that boutique and falling in love the normal way. The happy way. “I’d have flirted with you a lot and you’d roll your eyes at me. We’d travel together to Paris or Tokyo, explore the things we love and eat ice-cream until our stomachs ached.” A tiny chuckle passed through his lips.

Belle had to suck in her trembling bottom lip as tears began escaping down her cheeks. “And?”

“We’d get married…properly. Away from my family, we’d relax somewhere at a beach.” The visions in his mind played without any effort causing his eyes to flood knowing it was all an impossible dream now. “We’d have children…we’d love them so much, Belle—”

She couldn’t hold in the sobs that shook through her body. At the very mention of children, Belle felt a tingle under the skin of her belly, memories of the aches still lingering. “Why didn’t you just take the money?”

“What?” He whispered.

“Why didn’t you just take the money? And don’t tell me it was because of business or keeping up appearances. Why? Why me?”

The ever burning question. Even the interrogators asked them the question. What was the motive to taking in Miss Kim? A lot of people owed you debts. Jungkook only answered with a vague, menial answer that had no real connection to his deeds as a boss.

“It was—it was just an impulse…”

Belle’s expression hardened even though her eyes still looked so vulnerable and broken. “An impulse?” Her voice was small and meek. “That’s it?”

“I didn’t think you’d—say yes.”

Saying it to Hoseok was easy. Saying it to Belle felt evil. Jungkook noticed the darkness clouding over her beautiful features, a mixture of heartbreak and pure rage.

“You put my brother’s life on the line and you thought I wasn’t going to say yes?” Belle winced, tone rising back to its original power. A harsh slap of reality learning that one of the most traumatizing experiences of her life happened because one man had an impulse decision to use his power over her.

“Belle, it was years ago—”

“So why am I still getting nightmares about it?!” She shrieked leaving a tense silence to plunge into the room while her voice still echoed through the walls a little. “W-why h-haven’t I stopped seeing t-that mansion every time I close my eyes? Wh-why do I wake u-up scared that I’m still in that room w-while they watch—” Belle let out a loud, trembling breath closing her eyes. Tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping to her chest from her jawline as she hugged herself tightly.

Jungkook stammered, swallowing down the painful lump in his throat as he attempted to keep his composure. “You didn’t have to come and see me.” He whispered.

“I wanted you to see me.” Belle sniffled shakily. “Staying away from you doesn’t help because you could always push it out. I can’t—I can’t push it out because it’s inside me.”

“You think all this has been easy for me? That I just pushed it out?” Jungkook shook his head with a pained expression as their gazes met again. “Yeah our first meeting was an impulse but that didn’t mean it was always like that. I stopped a lot of contact with my family when you told me you were pregnant. That letter was meant to be the last thing I said to my parents before we left.”

Belle wanted to argue that he just started getting sympathetic after her pregnancy but she would be a hypocrite. Even she felt softened knowing a child was growing inside her. “You wanted to kill the mayor too, Jungkook, how long would that have taken?”

“Overnight if it meant I’d be escaping somewhere with you.” Jungkook spoke without hesitation, still remembering all the plans he had in place for their move.

“But I would’ve lost the baby anyway.” She smiled sadly. “It was natural causes.”

The male took a few careful steps forward, trying not to intimidate her but hopefully close a little more distance between them. “I didn’t just do it for the baby, Belle.” Jungkook sighed. “I did it cause I love you…but I knew we couldn’t be happy if we were at that mansion and I was still running the cartel.”

Belle sniffled. “I wish you didn’t love me.” Her chin trembled, her body tired of brewing more sobs as tears filled her eyes again. “I wish I didn’t love you. Maybe all this would be easier.”

“When has it ever been easy between us?”

“That’s the problem.” She pressed her lips together. “Love shouldn’t be this difficult. Maybe sometimes but—every single day wondering whether what you’re feeling is real…or worrying that something terrible is going to happen if I stay with you for too long.” Features contorted in pain as she stumbled on her feet a little.

Jungkook’s inhibitions banished immediately seeing her trip slightly, rushing to her side and gently holding onto her arm. Before he could say anything, he felt Belle rest her head on his chest. A burst of butterflies soared across his belly having that familiar smell touch his nostrils and the warmth of her body radiating onto his cold bare skin.

They didn’t say a single word as Jungkook properly wrapped his arms around her body, fingers brushing through her soft hair. Her sobs were quiet but her body still trembled and his embraced tightened a little. As if praying that all of her pain could be transferred to him so she did not have to suffer through it all.

Belle should have pulled away the moment he touched her but the warmth was too much. Her body felt heavy against his, melting onto his skin almost like they could join as one. Maybe that could repair some of the damage. Breathing became steady as she allowed herself to relax. A protective part of her still tried ensure she was not too vulnerable but another part said it was too late.

In this particular weakened moment, she was his and he was hers.

15 unread messages.

Namjoon: How did it go? Are you good?

Namjoon: Taehyung said you didn’t come home last night.

Namjoon: Belle?

Namjoon: I don’t want to have to track you down.

Namjoon: Please tell me if you’re okay.

Namjoon: Yoongi and Taehyung found out, I’m sorry.

Belle: I’m okay.

Namjoon: Jesus, don’t scare me like that.

Namjoon: Where are you?

Belle: I’m still at Jungkooks’ place.

Namjoon: Okay. Is everything alright?

Belle: I don’t know.

Namjoon: What do you mean? Did he hurt you?

Belle: No.

Namjoon: Just tell me what happened.

Namjoon: Look I’m not Yoongi or Taehyung. I won’t get mad, alright? You can tell me.

Belle: I slept with him.

Namjoon: Okay that’s fine.

Belle: No it’s not.

Namjoon: Did he hurt you or force you or anything?

Belle: No, no it was consensual.

Namjoon: Then I don’t see an issue.

Belle: How?

Namjoon: Considering he’s a former drug lord, I expected far worse things done to you then you two just consensually having sex.

Belle: Are they really angry?

Namjoon: I’ll handle Yoongi and Angel’s handling Taehyung. They’re grown men, they’ll get over it.

Namjoon: Just come back up again.

Belle: Okay. Thank you, Joon.

Namjoon: Anytime.

Belle let out a sigh, chest falling a little as she hugged her phone for a moment before placing it on the nightstand. Eyes scanned the ceiling, a few brownish stains here and there but nothing far too putrid. Her old apartment usually had those stains after a storm. She felt Jungkook shift a little, his arm still resting over her body while his face buried into her neck. It was so easy allowing the warmth to coat their little bubble.

Except it was not a bubble of theatrics. She was not pretending to be Mrs. Jeon anymore. She was a fashion designer with her boutique and Jungkook was a regular man trying to get by in the city. They were two normal people with no real threat to be together but they were here.

The ache between her legs still pulsed a little when she remembered the night before.

The very minute she resorted to hugging him, Belle knew it was going to be difficult to turn back from it. Deep recesses of her mind surfacing up to whisper in her ear that it would be okay just this once.

To feel him again.

To have his head between her legs at this moment, kissing and nibbling on all her sensitive nub while his fingers pads dug into her thighs. Jungkook took his time. Licking a stripe tantalizingly slow, tasting her juices until it was the only remnant on his tongue. He let out a breath through his nose as his lips wrapped fully around her clit, suckling passionately until her thighs closed up around his head only making him moan.

Belle whined against the vibrations on her aching, sensitive skin as her fingers found themselves knotting in his hair. Chest rising and falling she faced the ceiling. Lower belly burned and tightened as Jungkooks’ movement did not falter, shaking his head a little to jolt more of that head-spinning heat.

…

Bed creaked as Belle straddled him, bouncing at a steady pace while her hands rested on his torso. Moonlight painted her sweat glistening skin through the window. As if the whole city could see her relishing in her own guilty pleasure. Except the guilt was nowhere to be found.

His hand trailed up her abdomen to cup her breasts gently, digging a little into her tender skin to earn a small whimper from the woman. Then he moved up to her neck. Jungkook cupped the side, thumb tracing her bottom lip while the other hand gripped at her shaking hips.

Belle suckled on his digit muffling her moans all the while clenching tightly around his member until it sent shivering tingles up her spine. She hummed in satisfaction as Jungkook groaned at the pressure.

“You feel so good.” He pushed in his thumb a little further watching her slightly drenched curls fall over her face. A smile curled up at the corner of his lips hearing the sinfully loud squelch sounds their thrusts emitted. “So fucking beautiful.” Jungkook whispered. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, wanting to take every second of how she tried to suck on his skin harder every time she dropped down roughly.

“I’m close.” Belle’s words were a little muddled against his thumb. Her thrusts grew desperate and relentless, pussy squelching violently as their incessant moans swirled in the sex scented air.

Bursts of searing heat and unbridled pleasure shook through their limbs, pulsing through her veins as Belle’s movements became sloppy. Jungkook had his head pressed deep against the pillow as his muscles tensed feeling her walls clench around him before he pulled himself out, release spewing out onto his belly. Belle cheekily reached down to touch his reddened member, giggling lightly when he jerked against it.

Jungkook followed with a breathless chuckle of his own as she rested back on his chest, uncaring of how messy they were.

It was the first time they laughed after sex.

Granted it was not much but last night gave her a dreamless sleep. A welcomed type of sleep. They cried, hugged, moaned and laughed. So many sensations all at once was bound to make anyone have such a deep sleep that they do not want to wake up the next day. A wonderful feeling. It would be temporary before her other dreams settle in again but Belle was not going to let them get to her this morning. She wanted to relish in this new, momentary peace.

Jungkook began stirring more, light hum under his breath until he finally opened his eyes to a calming sight. Tired vision still a little blurred but he could always make out her face. “Sleep well?” His voice grumbled despite the smile creeping on his lips.

Belle turned to meet his gaze, mimicking his gentle smile. “Really well.” The curl slowly disappeared from her lips as reality seeped through their comfort. “We can’t see each other anymore. You know that, right?”

He nodded although solemnly. “I know.” Whatever red string they forced themselves to tie around their pinky finger had to separate one day. Even when reluctance settled in. “Like you said, love shouldn’t be as difficult as ours was.” Jungkook shifted so he lay down his back, one arm curled so he could rest his head on top of it.

“I don’t have to leave now though.”

“What, you want more?” Jungkook licked the inside of his cheek as a smirk formed, one of his hands reaching out to gently touch her lower belly.

Belle pushed his hand away with a chuckle. “No…I meant something else.” She pulled the sheets up to cover herself a little, goosebumps forming on her skin when the room brushed a little cold. “Ice-cream. We could get ice-cream.”

A jolt of nostalgia burst through him as he remembered the last time that request was passed between them. Despite expecting a child back then, Jungkook preferred this more knowing Belle was sitting here by her own volition. That was what mattered most. “Yeah…we can get ice-cream.”

Tiny slab of pink and mint down the food line of the city. Belle somehow managed to make his black T-shirt and her sweatpants look strangely put together while he buried himself in his hoodie. They walked inside the cute parlor immediately greeted by a kind boy at the counter.

Making their orders, the couple took their ice-cream cups to a booth at the corner.

Thankfully the parlor was empty since no one bought ice-cream this early in the morning so it would be difficult for them to be spotted.

Journalists eventually grew bored of doing stories on Jungkook and Belle’s ‘tragic love story’ but she knew the moment, a single person saw them, it would be chaos.

“Did you have any trouble these few years?” Jungkook asked feeling a sense of joy in his mouth as the sweet taste touched his tongue.

Belle shrugged lightly. “Apparently there was a hired hitman for a while but he was quickly detained. Then a stalker which lasted for a few months.”

“What did he want?”

“Namjoon found out he was a spy for a gang called Pogpungu Pa.”

“Fucking tongue twister.” Jungkook scoffed. “They wanted a large percentage of my cocaine supplies in exchange for prostitutes.” He waved his spoon. “Told him I didn’t work in that line of business so the Don got pissed.”

“Well he’s also detained. Namjoon’s been very quick in dealing with them. Probably happy to be out on the field again with Yoongi still at his desk.” Belle suckled the remnants of brownie bits from her spoon.

“Why is he at his desk?” His brows furrowed.

“Standard procedure, I guess. Every detective is meant to have a few months of therapy and leave from field work. But I’m pretty sure it’s a new thing that the mayor advised.”

“They’ve been doing a lot of things.”

“A lot of good things.” Belle corrected, narrowing her gaze even though her expression was not completely serious.

Jungkook smiled lightly picking up another small scoop of his ice-cream. “You’ve been doing a lot of good things. The Tokyo fashion week.”

Her eyes almost immediately lit up when the topic was mentioned and Jungkook couldn’t help but feel accomplished that he initiated it. “You knew about that?”

“Saw it in the newspaper. It looked good.”

Belle grinned from ear to ear, eyes shining in the bright lights of the parlor. “Angel helped me with the movement. She wanted to create a shelter for domestic violence victims like her. So I offered to promote it in the fashion shows.”

“Oh yeah Hoseok told me…Taehyung and Angel, they have a kid, right?”

“Yeah…” She giggled lightly. “A little baby daughter.”

“That’s good.” Jungkook nodded with a wide smile. “He’s all okay now?”

“Clean and sober for four years. He—relapsed another time but when they got married and then started trying for children, he never went back again.” Belle murmured still remembering the happiest look on Taehyung’s teary eyed face when he first held his baby. That was all she ever wanted for her brother. True happiness. “I kind have you to thank for that.”

He hummed in disapproval. “Don’t, please—the way I did it was wrong.”

“Yes but everything happens for a reason. I think if that didn’t happen…he might not be here at all.” Belle shook his head. “He also did technically meet Angel in the Sangria House. The only reason we even had her booked was because I met Seokjin at the party with you.”

Strange how time fools you in that way. It makes you feel regretful of the bad things that happened in the past except you could not possibly take them back because it would mean diminishing the good things along with it. Delicate and strange thing time was.

“I would’ve never been free from that place if you didn’t go behind my back.” Jungkook smiled down at the cup. “I’ll always be grateful for that.”

“Speaking of which…how is it like being a normal joe in the city?” Belle asked with a cheeky glint in her eye as she tapped her fingers against the ice-cream cup.

“Apparently you have to pay for grocery bags now.” He waved his spoon around.

“Yes for recycling and it’s been happening for a very long time.” She smiled.

His bottom lip jutted out in a little pout. “Not from what I remember.”

“Since when have you ever shopped for groceries?”

Jungkook scrunched his nose a little poking into the mint chocolate ice cream to pick out the chips. “Since yesterday.” He mumbled. “But I’m happy…” He nodded letting his words linger in their comfortable silence. “Or at least now I can do things that make me happy.”

“You could travel to Tokyo and Paris, eat ice-cream until your stomach aches…” Belle grinned. “You can get married to someone you love dearly and have lots of children. No more deals though.” She raised her index fingers as a warning.

Jungkook laughed. “No more deals, I promise.” He mixed around his melting ice-cream for a bit enjoying the little swirl. “What about you? What’re you going to do?”

“My therapist said I should take some time off from the boutique when I get the chance.” Belle quoted her therapist mostly but she never really thought about the prospect on her own until she discussed it with Yoongi. “Yoongi suggested we could go to Norway to disconnect for a little while.”

“Yoongi…wait, are you two—”

“No, silly. As friends.”

“Ah.”

“You think if I had a boyfriend like Yoongi, I’d sleep with you again?” Belle scoffed even though a smile tugged at her lips.

“Hey I’m pretty tempting.”

“Not that tempting.”

Jungkook scrunched his nose at her before chuckling as he practically slurped on his ice-cream at this point.

The couple sat in silence for a few moments finishing their breakfast desserts, unable to keep smiles off their faces.

“We go our separate ways now, yeah?” He spoke the truth this time. The satisfaction in his belly along with the warmth in his heart softly stating to him that it was time.

Belle smiled, a slight twinge in her chest but nothing compared to the relief brewing inside. A whisper in her ear telling her it was okay. It was okay to move on. “Yeah. No more looking back.”

Throwing their empty ice-cream cups away, the pair walked out of the parlor towards Belle’s car. Jungkook’s apartment was a few minutes’ walk away. She wanted to drive because it made it that little bit easier to go back home immediately. At this point, they both deserved one thing to be easy.

Belle gave him one final smile before climbing into the car and driving away.

Jungkook didn’t wait a second as he turned on his heel and walked back to his apartment.

This was the true final time they saw each other. They would not turn back. There was no need to anymore.

As soon as Jungkook walked into the room, it smelled a whole lot more different than it did the first time. The only smoke emitting was from the pan exuding a warm, delicious scent. Morning sun beaming through the windows making it look a tad bit brighter and the floors almost shone clean now.

“There you are!” Hoseok announced with a grin. “Did you go out for a jog?”

“Yeah…a little bit.” He answered absentmindedly.

A figure with short, black hair stood at the kitchen counter setting some bacon and eggs up on the plate. She looked up and immediately give him a similar bright smile as Hoseok.

“Ah—this is Rosyne.” Hoseok touched the womans’ shoulder. “Rosyne, Jungkook.” He gestured over to the younger male.

The two exchanged greetings before Hoseok invited him over to the kitchen counter to have breakfast. He wanted to tell them that his stomach was a little full from the ice-cream. But it felt so peaceful when he saw the giggles shared between them while eating, random conversations that no one really cared about but it made them smile.

Jungkook stayed still for a moment watching them so easily be vulnerable and happy around each other. “Hey, you guys want to go to Paris?” He sat down on one of the stools.

Rosyne’s eyes widened a little as the request lingered in the air while Hoseok looked amused but taken aback at the same time.

“Why the sudden interest?” Hoseok chuckled, sticking his fork into some scrambled eggs.

He shrugged. “Might be cool to disconnect for a little while.”

“Prison wasn’t disconnecting enough?”

Jungkook nudged his arm with a light scoff. “You know what I mean. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I’ve—always wanted to see the Louvre in real life.” Rosyne raised her shoulders, giving Hoseok an adorable smile.

“Don’t spoil him, Ros.” Hoseok glanced at the both of them for a few moments before letting out a defeated sigh. “We’ll think about it.”

Jungkook did not argue any further after that and began taking careful bites of the breakfast even though it might give him a stomach ache later. The thought of something actually exciting happening this year or the next year made him happy enough to keep going on this new life.

Carefully padding into the apartment, Belle’s footsteps were soft and barely echoed across the walls but there was no use in being discreet. Especially since Yoongi, Taehyung, Namjoon and Angel were all in the sitting room. Bloom sat on the floor completely focused on banging her little drums that Namjoon gifted her on her first birthday.

Once Angel looked her way, everyone else followed suit. Yoongi was the first one to shoot up to his feet and stomp towards the woman.

“What took you so long?” Yoongis’ words sounded more like pleading than anger. “Are you hurt?” Eyes frantically examined her body until his gaze darkened as he stopped at her neck.

Belle hovered her hand over the patch of skin that definitely had a few purpling marks scattered but she kept a calm expression. “Everything’s fine, okay? Nothing happened.”

“No something happened.”

“Yoongi, fuck off.” Namjoon grabbed his shoulder and led him to the side. “Good to have you back in one piece, B.”

As the two men sat near the paneled windows muttering a few things to each other, Belle caught another figure coming towards her from the corner of her eye. She took a deep breath keeping her gaze on her brother.

Taehyung looked so much taller now. Loose emerald shirt with golden vectors as opposed to the old black hoodies, his eyes were a little darkened from exhaustion but this time it was to take care of his baby rather than an accidental bender. The serious expression on his face added more to the fact that Belle had her older brother back. He was sturdy in his appearance and confident in his stance. The look of a man who had gone through a tunnel of hell and found happiness at the end of the trail.

“How’d it go?” He asked.

“Pretty civil…” Belle nodded, playing with her fingers a little. “…considering the circumstances.”

Taehyung hummed in approval. “That’s good. And that?” He waved his index finger across his own bare neck while looking at hers. “Good or bad?”

“Good.” She smiled faintly. “Really good.”

He grimaced a little. “Gross.”

“Shut up.”

Taehyung could not seem to keep his serious expression as a light chuckle broke out of him, shifting on his spot to loosen up. “But—no more, right? We’re gonna try to get back up again? Start over?” He would be the last person to ever judge Belle for her impulses. What he did know is that the impulses were not meant to be a constant.

Belle did not hesitate to nod. “I uh—I wanted to go to Norway. With Yoongi…” She glanced over to the side seeing Yoongi give her a more apologetic look which the woman smiled in response. “And maybe you guys too? Get away from the city for a while.” She shrugged. “Might even give me inspiration on the new line.”

He thought on the idea for a moment but quickly had a wide grin on his lips. “Angel’s been talking about going on a holiday. We could talk about it over breakfast.”

“Let me just go freshen up.” Belle patted him on the shoulder before making her up the top level of the apartment to her bedroom.

Being the owner of a prestigious boutique came with its perks when she managed to get a big enough apartment for three people including safety for children. It was in the highly populated areas of the city which is meant to be the best area for the position they were in. With Angel’s first husband and Belle’s connection to the Jeon Cartel, the more witnesses around them, the better.

Walking into her bedroom, Belle had one thing in mind before going to shower as she opened her walk-in closet. On the top shelves a box had been hidden under some folded sheets. She reached out and pulled it towards her feeling the light trickle of dust flow through the air making her sneeze.

Sniffling a little she brought the brown box and sat down on the bed with it. Belle paused for a moment, a very light tinge of dread brushing through her but there was a strength that seemed to power through it. Taking a deep breath she clicked open the box. Two tiny yellow shoes on the right hand side causing her to let out a shaky sigh, smiling a little as a few tears filled her eyes.

Belle held the shoes gently, hugging them to her chest before placing them on her lap. Then her eyes moved from the bracelet to the piece of folded paper. The warmth in her belly soared again taking the letter, unfolding to reveal the heavy promise scratched across the surface. The promise that kept her up at night for this many years. How much words could impact a mind was both fascinating and terrifying.

No more though. It was time. Something her therapist said to her in one session Belle would never forget.

It’s never about one solid destination of healing. You will never know exactly when you were healed. All you can know is when you decide to start or keep healing. That is what’s important. After that, everything will flow by you…in the future, it will all seem like a dream. But you’ll feel so proud of yourself when you look back, Belle. Even more proud than I am of you now. You’ve done so well and I hope you’ll keep healing.

Belle placed her fingers at the top of the letter and ripped it half, letting out a deep of relief as she put them together, ripping it again. Smaller and smaller the pieces became breaking off like petals from the already withering flowers in her heart. A smile widened on her lips as she let out something in the mixture of a chuckle and a sob, tears freely leaving her eyes. Teeny tiny pieces piled on the bed. Helping to remind her that they were just words after all.

With steady hands she gathered them together and threw it into the bin under her nightstand.

Then Belle took the yellow shoes and walked to the living room.

The group were already settling around the kitchen counter when she arrived. Angel had Bloom in a high chair feeding her some custard looking mush which she seemed to enjoy though slightly confused by the taste.

Belle walked over to where the child was and gently placed the yellow shoes on her socked feet. She could not help but grin seeing how it fit perfectly. Everything happens for a reason.

“Those are beautiful.” Angel gently touched the soft fabric. “Did you make them?”

“I got them from the market years ago.” She softly brushed through Blooms’ thin dark hair as the child tried to peek at what her aunt put on her feet.

“We were just talking about the trip to Norway.” Taehyung spoke up leaning against the counter next to Angel.

“Yeah, why was I not invited?” Namjoon pouted a little.

Belle stammered, chuckling lightly. “It was Yoongi’s suggestion…we can all go together. I thought you wanted to do field work for the rest of the year.”

“Still would’ve liked to be included.”

Bloom squeaked in response to Namjoon’s mumble, bouncing up and down her seat.

“Might need a babysitter if Taehyung wants to get laid.” Yoongi mused.

“Ah, language.” Angel covered Blooms’ ears but the baby only grinned wide looking at Yoongi.

“She’s not going to know what it means.”

“Listen, we’ll go together.” Belle silenced the group for a moment. “Namjoon forgets to take breaks from work anyway so it’d be a good way to force him out somewhere relaxing.”

“Norway does have a low crime rate.” Taehyung spoke.

“So it’s settled. We’re going to Norway and forget about our problems for a month.” Angel announced glancing at each one of them for a nod of approval.

Belle grinned seeing the group dive into their conversations about what to do in Norway and what hotels to book or the sights to see. No worries of any impending problem or event that could ruin everything. It was just peace in the loudest way possible. All you can know is when you decide to start or keep healing. That is what’s important.

She broke for her family once.

Now she was going to keep healing for it too.

<< PREV CHAP

#jungkook #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jungkook mafia au #bts mafia au

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realityhelixcreates · 4 years

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Lasabrjotr Chapter 60: For the Lazy Mornings

Chapters: 60/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Mature Warnings: Relationships: Loki x Reader (There We Go) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Bad Dreams, Loki has Unresolved Issues, Reader Contemplates, Walk Walk Fashion Baby, Lol Yes I Did Write A Whole Chapter That Takes Place Within Like Thirty Minutes

Summary: You miss breakfast.

Loki awoke to darkness; velvety, silent, and comfortable. A slight chill had crept into the room, the sensation familiar on his skin. The sun must be setting fully again, finally. The seasons on this world were so strange, foreign.

You shifted next to him. The chill might be soothing to him, but your fragile, precious human body might not take to it well. He should probably get an extra blanket for you.

Of course, there were other ways to keep you warm. Lust stirred in him, recalling your clumsy, insistent hands and hungry, determined expression. It wasn't the first handjob of his life, but it was certainly the most earnest.

For some reason, you hadn't wanted him to return the favor at the time. But now...

He placed his hand on your thigh. You rolled over to face him, bigger than you should be, twice, three times bigger than you should be. The bright, rainbow-scattered light of the old Bifrost Loki remembered lit up the room, highlighting your sapphire skin, your bright red eyes looking down at him fondly. Loki shouted, recoiling in revulsion, but the roar of the Bifrost drowned him out, the light overcoming him.

Loki sat up in bed.

It was dark, but to his eyes, faint light escaped from the edges of his blackout curtains. You stirred, and his head whipped around to stare. You were your normal, adorably compact size, and thankfully devoid of blue. He let out a relieved breath.

“Well.” You muttered. “That was weird. Is that what it's like, when you look down at me? What was that loud light?”

You must not have been able to see yourself in the dream, the way he had.

“That...that was the old Bifrost. It used to be like that, when it was fully functional and powered up. Brighter. Bigger. More color, more range, a louder roar. Just more powerful.”

Powerful enough to slice through the mile thick ice crust of a tiny, helpless planet, creating a canyon a quarter of the way across the equatorial region, exposing the water far below, and causing Norns only knew what kind of havoc.

You had still been beautiful, in the colorful light, in the wrong skin, the wrong size. Still beautiful. Somehow, it repulsed him.

But the dream was gone now, the shock fading away into the warmth you brought to his bed. He settled back down into your waiting arms. It was so comfortable here. Though not yet lovers exactly, you fit so well into his bed, and he fit so well into your arms, his head resting between your breast and jaw, so he could hear the steady pumping of your heart.

“Sleep, okay?” You encouraged. “Everyone's leaving tomorrow. Then you'll have peace again.”

“Hm? Whatever do you mean?” Loki said. He knew what you meant, but was surprised that you'd thought of it.

“Well, it's stressful, right? Having all these enemies around, pax or no.” You said, absently stroking his hair.

“Not enemies. Not anymore.”

“Not friends either, though. Bad blood.”

“Some of them.” He admitted.”Some of them weren't even there at the time. Many of the others have...well, not forgiven me precisely, but accepted the reality of me. Or simply moved on. But then, there are those who can't.”

“Tony.”

“It isn't his fault. My actions fundamentally changed him. How many others like him? I wonder sometimes.”

“You regret what you did?” You sounded...not surprised, but curious.

“I regret the lives lost. Though my actions actually brought some benefit to your world-forced your governments to realize there were threats from outside, to at least try to prepare for further incursions, revitalize your space programs, recognize your heroes...but it is terribly unbecoming to attack civilians.”

“Huglausi?” You ventured.

“Very.” He sighed. “I compromised my honor very severely. Obliterated it, really. I've done many unseen things to try to restore it. In the end, it's really all I have.”

He wrapped one arm around you and snuggled up as close as was possible without actually being on top of you.

“I've seen how superficial so many things really are, how easy it is to be stripped of them. Title. Wealth. Name. Home. Identity. The only thing that truly lasts, the only thing that has impact, is deeds. And mine have been...reprehensible.”

“But it wasn't entirely you.” You pointed out. “You were being controlled.”

“Not entirely. I told you, it was still me. I know it's tempting to attribute everything to some behind-the-scenes puppetmaster, but it wasn't like that, it was...” He trailed off, squeezing you.

“Like what?”

He held his breath and shook his head a little. If he told you too much, if he told you everything, you would never lie next to him again. He would lose this as soon as he had gotten it.

But didn't you deserve to know what kind of creature you slept next to? Didn't you at least deserve to know what was behind his actions on Earth? Maybe not the rest of it, but the things that impacted the world you lived in?

“You know how you hate the man who hurt you during the Sn-the Event? But you wish you did not, and you wish you could forgive him, but the anger and unfairness of it just hits you sometimes? And you feel guilty about it, and that makes you angry too; bitter, resentful. And that makes you feel even worse, and it just builds on itself, until it finally goes away, but you're miserable the whole time, and a while afterwards?”

“Uh...yeah. It's exactly like that, actually.”

“I too, have things that make me feel that way. And the influence of the Mind Stone was such that it made those thoughts, those angers and resentments come to the surface, and then it kept them there. It kept them fresh and constant-no healing, no overcoming, no acceptance or moving on, and, most importantly, no relief. It was neverending. A great font of anger and bitterness as fresh as the moment it was inflicted, and sustained, indefinitely, by the stone's power over me.

Thanos didn't put a ring in my nose to lead me around by; he didn't have to. A smidgen of psychological manipulation, and I was his. A nearly willing slave. I wanted the havoc I caused. I reveled in the chaos, the fear. I bathed in the sounds of screaming and destruction, lusted after the blood and terror.”

His breath had grown heavy. You fingers paused in his hair.

“I wanted it because I felt I had nothing else. No future, no identity. Only deeds. And I was determined to make them the biggest deeds I could, for good or ill. I was an avatar of the worst that a being like me could become, and the greatest I had ever been. I enjoyed what I was doing, because it was the only outlet, the only respite from the hate and anger that I had.

For all my plans, I could never have ruled like that. It's a lie the Mind Stone told me, that I tell myself, again and again. I could have done it. I could have made it work. But I could not even master myself. It was all lies, upon lies, upon lies. Lies built me. Lies define me, and that entire experience just proved it beyond any shadow of a doubt.”

“Loki...”

“Shhh.” He lightly brushed your mouth with his fingertips. “I committed great deeds. Great and terrible. And now, now that I control myself, now that the malign influence no longer hangs over me, I can no longer commit deeds so great. I cannot rebuild your city. You have already done that. I cannot show generosity in equal measure to my destructiveness. Asgards budget is too tight. Somehow, on the other side of madness, I am incapable of doing good in equal measure to ill. Why must it be so easy to harm you, but so difficult to help you?”

“Maybe because we all need different kinds of help, but we all die the same.” You said, and he grew quiet in contemplation. “ Loki, you have a lot you want to do, right? Rebuild Asgard, fix your reputation, help the people around you, be a good ruler. And on top of that, you have responsibilities to your family, and your people, and...well, to me too. As your...”

“Paramour...” He breathed. “Yes. I have...responsibilities. You...you need me.” It was almost a plea. “You want me...You want to be near me...I've been good to you...haven't I? Is there anything you need? Anything at all?”

You seemed to sense the tendrils of desperation that wound inside of him as he had explained himself, as he sought something to expend his energy on, and you resumed stroking his hair.

“Yes.” You said. “I need you to hold me for the rest of the night. I need to feel you close to me. I want to fall asleep next to you and wake up to you first thing in the morning. That's all I want right now. Can you give me those things?”

He didn't move, just remained molded to you, head tucked under your jaw. Purpose. Simple, attainable purpose.

“All those things and more. Thank you, _____. I needed to say it. I knew you would listen. Without the stone, I would have healed, at least a little. Without the stone, I have healed. A little. There was time to mourn, time to accept. Time to look forward. I...I wish I was already the man I could be for you. I will be though. If you will but be patient with me.”

“Sleep, Loki.” You said. “I want to get to that waking up with you next to me part.”

*****

And so you did, slipping gently back into consciousness, with the comfortable weight of Loki's arm across your chest. You turned your head to find he had tucked you under his chin, cuddling you like a plush doll.

You kissed his throat until he shifted and his breathing changed.

“Darling...” He mumbled sleepily. “Blessed maiden of comfort. Good morning.”

“Mornin' sweetie.” You said, and he scoffed at the pet name.

“I am a god.” He said

“You are a grump.” You answered, kissing the tip of his nose and shimmying out of bed.

He slithered out after you. “Am I really?”

“Only sometimes.” You teased.

You didn't join him in the bath this time, opting to take one in the evening instead. Your clothes had been left in a neatly folded stack just outside the door to Loki's bedroom rather than outside of yours.

Oh yes, everyone knew what was going on.

You reflected on how easy that acceptance seemed to be, as you slipped into your clothes for the day. Aside from a few loud, unpleasant, and downright dangerous individuals, the people of Asgard seemed perfectly fine with you.

Even though you'd been told several times that there was a struggle between human-friendly and human-unfriendly factions, it was really being treated as if the eventual failure and disappearance of the human-unfriendly groups was a foregone conclusion. As if it had all happened before, and had turned out the same every time.

Well, hadn't it?

The war with the Vanir had ended millenia ago, possibly before the first human civilizations had even begun. You could see the influence of their heritage in Saldis' features, and knew there were full Vanir here in Asgard who were trapped away from Vanaheim by the events of Ragnarok. Nobody cared anymore. The former queen of Asgard and the guardian of all Asgard were both raised by Alfar. Heck, with the strangeness of Heimdalls eyes, there might actually have been Alfar in his family tree.

Once you thought about it, there might be a little Jotun mixed in as well. Probably not Frost Giants, since they still seemed to be a point of contention among Asgardians, but other kinds of Jotun they didn't seem to have much trouble with. You knew the Vanir didn't have any trouble with intermarrying with them, and neither Loki, Brunnhilde, or Saga seemed to think they idea of marrying a Jotun was all that strange. Freyr was married to one, and they didn't act like he was a freak or anything. In fact, since Jotun were so genetically flexible, it was possible that any Asgardian could have a Jotun ancestor, and it might not even show at all.

You knew absolutely nothing about the previous queens of Asgard, save for where Frigga was raised...

Nah. You didn't actually want to go fishing for more royal scandal. You technically were one, even if the majority of Asgardians had accepted that you were but a harbinger of what was to come. They had survived intermingling with others, and they would survive humans too. Probably come out even better for it, if the history Saga taught you was accurate.

The real problem might just be other humans reactions to the idea. Humans were far too proficient at focusing on the differences between people, and dividing themselves up into groups that weren't supposed to be allowed to mingle...but still definitely did, even if the consequences were terrible. That was the problem. There shouldn't be those kinds of consequences, but there would be. For the longest time, humans only had other humans to define as 'outsiders'. Only very recently had extraterrestrial intelligent species come to their attention, and almost every time, it was in a very negative way.

Part of the world was very on board with the Asgardians, but it was because of a shared cultural history. They regarded the Asgardians as partially 'theirs' somehow. But the rest of the world had no such ties, and some countries had a definite-and admittedly justified-beef with certain prominent Asgardians. One of which you happened to be actually dating.

Okay, but what could they actually do to you, aside from troll you on the internet? Asgard was on the lookout for assassins now, and you had committed no crimes. Besides, being with Loki was a good thing, right? It was a symbol of friendliness and good will between Asgard and humankind, right?

That was definitely not why you were doing it though. You just really liked him. Loki was a man of many virtues. One of them was how he came back from the bath, shirtless, and with his hair still damp.

That was a very good one.

Loki gave his hair one last scrub with the towel, dropped said towel over the back of his desk chair, and opened the carved wooden doors to his huge wardrobe. He stood in contemplation of the perfect thing to wear.

“What do you think...” He murmured. “What's the best combination for saying goodbye to a group of not-quite-enemies?”

“Peacefully?” You asked.

“Of course! I can't let it be known, but I actually like some of them, just a little.”

“So you want the 'lady who has just divorced her jackass, loser husband, and is past ready to mingle' look.”

One perfect eyebrow arched. “Do I?”

“Yeah.” You ducked under his arm and peered into the wardrobe. “So you wanna show off, but not your very best, because that's trying too hard, right? All black is dramatic, and looks so good on you...”

He preened.

“...But I think it might make you fade into the backdrop. How about this one though? The green matches mine, so we could present as a unified front. Also I like this little short cape.”

“This is a capelet. Would you like one? They are not difficult to make; I can order some for you.”

He held up the tunic; a quilted thing of rich pine green and gold piping, knotwork designs at the stiff cuffs and mandarin collar.

“You like this?”

“It looks very...touchable.”

Both eyebrows went up this time. “Is that the image we want to project?”

“Put it on, and lets see.”

The tunic molded to him, so tight that you would have though it simply didn't fit. But he seemed to be able to move in it just fine. You ran your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

“I was right. Very touchable.”

He caught your hands in his and squeezed them gently.

“I'm glad you like it, but I don't think so. Not this one. It is actually part of a matched set made for myself and Thor, when we were younger.. It doesn't feel right to wear it, if he is not wearing his. I doubt he still even fits into his.”

He removed the tunic, and searched for another.

“I do like the color matching idea though. Perhaps this one? It is similar.”

This tunic did not fit him quite as tightly, but was still expertly tailored, and still the same color of green. It fell all the way to his knees, split to the hips in four places, and the sleeves terminated in sharp points over the back of his hands. It was quilted as well, but the pattern was more like scales, and you noticed that the metallic thread was gradated; starting out black at the bottom, then shifting to green, then gold at the collar and shoulders.

“Wow.” You breathed. “You look like a dragon!”

“Well,” He said. “I did steal you and fly you away to my lair full of riches, did I not?”

“That you did. Speaking of riches...can you help me with my brooches?”

“Of course, my dear.” He plucked the oval brooches from your palm, very carefully pinning them in place, so as not to prick you. As you had thought, he got them perfectly centered, their strings of beads cascading over the top of your breasts. They drew his eyes. “But you know how to pin them yourself, don't you?”

“Yeah, I do.” You said, a little sultriness slipping into your voice. Loki's eyes flicked to yours. He licked his lips.

You were in his arms barely a moment later, drowning in his mouth.

“I wish I was the man I could be for you. I will be.”

No man had ever said anything like that to you before. Never expressed any desire to be better for you. It was usually the opposite.

Loki, prince and god, wanted to be better. For you.

You were going to miss breakfast.

#lasabrjotr #loki x reader #loki (marvel)

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searchingwardrobes · 5 years

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Sadie Hawkins Dance

Yes, I know it is Thursday, so don’t worry, I will be posting chapter four of Until the Day Breaks and the Shadows Flee. However, I couldn’t wait to post this because I first got the idea months ago, and it is a gift for a wonderful friend. @snowbellewells is like my fandom twin. We have so much in common, and we’re constantly saying to each other “me too!” when we chat. Marta, you are one of the kindest people I have ever met, and I wish I could send you a handsome pirate to feed you Hershey Kisses, but alas you’ll have to settle for this fic. But, my dear friend, you deserve all the best!

Marta, this fic was inspired by our conversations about term paper season as English teachers. Remember when I told you about rewarding myself with Hershey kisses every time I finished grading a paper? I stopped classroom teaching when I had my oldest, and since Luke turns eleven next week, that means I’ve been away for over a decade! It’s hard to believe, and I know that things have changed tremendously since I taught. However, my mom, my sister, and my cousin are all still teaching, and I know from them that kids now do almost all their work on laptops given to them by the school. When I taught I still used an overhead projector! Anyway, I tried to make this accurate, but I may have made mistakes, and I also know here in the States things vary so drastically state to state and district to district. My point is, I tried!

Also based on the song by Relient K. My husband was cleaning out his nightstand a few months ago and found an old CD Walkman. Inside was my old Relient K CD, and I have been on a kick listening to them again ever since.

Summary: English teacher Emma Swan and her fellow English teacher and best friend Killian Jones use Hershey Kisses and a bet involving their school’s upcoming Sadie Hawkins dance to motivate them as they grade term papers. But will this lead to kisses other than the chocolate variety?

Rating: G for tooth rotting sweetness

Also on Ao3 and part of my Fandom Birthday Playlist

Tagging: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @kday426 @let-it-raines @teamhook @bethacaciakay @whimsicallyenchantedrose @welllpthisishappening @thislassishooked @branlovestowrite @delirious-latenight-laughs @resident-of-storybrooke @ekr032-blog-blog @nikkiemms @shireness-says @ultraluckycatnd @optomisticgirl @distant-rose @profdanglaisstuff @gingerchangeling @vvbooklady1256 @wellhellotragic @ohmakemeahercules @hollyethecurious @cocohook38 So many of us love Marta, go give her some birthday wishes!

She said, “You’re smooth, and good with talking. Will you go with me to the Sadie Hawkins?” The Sadie Hawkins dance, in my khaki pants, there’s nothing better. The girls ask the guys. It’s always a surprise. There’s nothing better. Baby, do you like my sweater?

Killian Jones slammed down his red pen, then slapped his hand on the term paper he had just finished grading. Emma Swan rolled her eyes at his dramatics.

“Hit me,” he said.

Emma grabbed a Hershey Kiss from the bowl on her coffee table and unwrapped it. “Open up,” she told him.

She tossed the candy through the air, and her best friend caught it perfectly on his tongue. He relished the chocolate with exaggerated pleasure, winking at her as he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip. Emma rolled her eyes.

“You’re full of it, Jones, and a complete drama queen.”

He chuckled as he slid another paper from the three stacks lined up in front of him on the coffee table. Emma sat with her back against her sagging couch, her legs spread out in front of her beneath the well worn table. Her stockinged feet rested in Killian’s lap. He sat cross-legged on the other side of the table. His neat stacks of papers sat on one end, and Emma’s laptop on the other. Killian cocked his head at her, his pen tapping on the dented wood.

“A drama queen? You wound me, Swan.”

She squinted as she searched the screen for where she’d left off reading her next student’s paper. “Well you’re the one eating chocolate like it’s a sensual experience.”

“It is a sensual experience - meaning pertaining to the senses,” he argued. “I smell the cocoa, I taste the milk chocolate, and I feel the candy melting on my tongue.”

As if to prove his point, his tongue made yet another appearance. Emma glared at him.

“Okay, you make eating chocolate seem like an orgasmic experience.”

He laughed, scratching behind his ear, and Emma grinned at the nervous tell. She’d won this round of their usual flirtatious, slightly scandalous banter, and she inwardly exulted. She was well aware that most of the teachers and half the students at Storybrooke High were wondering when the Freshman English teacher and the Junior English teacher were finally going to get together. She hated to disappoint them, but it was never going to happen. Killian had started out as her co-worker, then had wormed his way into the friend zone, and the next logical step would be a relationship. Emma didn’t do relationships. One night stands, yes. Casual dates, yes. Neither of those were in the cards for her and Killian since they were permanent fixtures in each other’s lives, hence the friend zone.

“So, are you chaperoning the dance?” Emma asked casually.

“I would love to, but it’s a Sadie Hawkins dance, and no lass has asked me.”

Emma glanced up to see Killian giving her his patented adorable pout. Nobody did puppy dog eyes like Killian Jones. Emma rolled her eyes. Nobody did eye rolls like Emma Swan.

“We’re talking about chaperoning.”

“A man still likes to be wooed, Swan.”

Emma barked out a laugh at his ridiculous antics. She saved what was on her screen, entered the grade into her online gradebook, and slapped her hand on the coffee table.

“Hit me!” she said.

A Hershey Kiss went sailing through the air, hitting Emma on the cheek and bouncing onto the floor.

“Apologies, Swan.”

Emma scowled as she threw the candy back at his head. “You did that on purpose!”

He laughed as he unwrapped another chocolate, and this time, he aimed for her open mouth.

“That’s 14 down, 76 more to go,” Emma sighed. “How about you?”

“Ten.”

“You could go faster if you did it all online. That’s kind of the point of the kids emailing the links to their papers? You know, teaching in the 21st century?”

“I prefer the old fashioned way, love,” he argued splaying both hands over his perfect stacks before him, “I need to print them out, to feel them in my hands. I can also grade them anywhere, whether or not there’s wi-fi. And finally, I have a system.”

Emma shook her head as she chuckled. He’d given her a long, rather boring overview of his “system” before, one that he swore kept him from being too harsh on either the best writers or the weakest. He tried to be fair and to bring out the best in each student, so really, how could she fault him?

She could, however, tease him.

“Well, old man, I guess someone has to keep the red pen factories in business.”

“There are factories that only make red pens?”

“Someone makes them,” she mumbled as she forced herself to focus on a poorly written introduction.

“I’m fairly certain the adult coloring book trend will protect the red pen market.”

“I never got that fad.”

“It’s supposed to be relaxing, Swan.”

“What’s relaxing about coloring the same damn flower with a million petals for half an hour?”

Killian laughed, the sound of it free and easy. Their conversations were always this way. Mostly ridiculous, brutally honest, and always fun.

“You know,” Emma told him, leaning back against the couch as she worked the kinks out of her neck, “studies have proven that students get stressed when they see the color red on their work. Why don’t you use another color?”

“Like what?”

“Anything, apparently, remember the adult coloring books? Use . . . I don’t know, purple or something.”

“Then they’d just get stressed when they saw purple.”

Killian scratched a C- across the stop of the paper he was grading with a flourish, then slapped his hand down on it. “Hit me!”

Emma tossed him another Hershey Kiss, and then the two of them fell into silent concentration. Killian absentmindedly rubbed the bottom of her feet with one hand as he ran the end of his red pen along the lines in front of him. He started to chuckle after a few moments and lifted the paper for Emma to see.

“Do you know what this is?”

Emma smiled as she leaned closer to the paper. “A list?”

“Aye. A list of every short story F. Scott Fitzgerald ever wrote. With the year each was published and in what literary magazine it appeared.”

Both Emma’s eyebrows rose. “And what point font is that?”

“18 in verdana.”

Emma laughed. “Do they think we’re idiots?”

Killian shrugged as he scribbled a note in the margin. Emma spun her laptop around for him to see.

“A list of every agricultural export from Costa Rica. 22 point font, comic sans”

Killian quirked a brow. “Looks like Nicholas Zimmer takes the prize for best padding of a term paper.”

Half an hour later, the floor was littered with an obscene amount of Hershey Kiss wrappers and the tiny paper tails that Emma knew she would keep finding in her carpet for at least a month. Her vision was swimming as she tried to focus on her laptop screen and Killian was stretching the fingers of his right hand with a grimace on his face. Emma stretched both arms above her head and her spine cracked.

“25 down. You?”

Killian rubbed at his forehead wearily. “22.”

“I told you it would go faster on your computer.”

“Technically, I went faster. You completed eleven in the last half hour, while I completed twelve.”

Emma waved off his argument. “Short term gain, Jones.”

“Oh really?” he replied, leaning over the coffee table towards her. “What about a little wager, Swan?”

“I’m listening.”

“If I finish grading my term papers before you, I get to pick out what you wear for the Sadie Hawkins dance. If you finish first, you get to pick out my outfit.”

Emma narrowed her eyes as she crossed her arms. “No way I’m letting you pick out my outfit.”

“Scared?” he teased with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Of course! You’re a man! I don’t want to get fired.”

He splayed a hand over his heart. “Swan! Do you not trust me?”

“No.”

He chuckled, setting her feet on the floor so he could come around the coffee table and settle in next to her. “I just have a need to see you as a stereotypical schoolmarm. You know, tight bun, glasses, a tweed skirt.”

Emma snorted. “Let me guess, tweed mini skirt with my shirt half unbuttoned.”

“Nope,” he argued, popping his p, “I mean, full blown schoolmarm. Maybe even a cardigan and a string of pearls.”

“Okay then,” she told him, giving his tight jeans and blue button up a once over. As usual, the top few buttons were undone on his shirt to let his chest hair breath. “And if I win this little bet, I want to see you go full blown nerd. Khakis, a sweater, bow tie, the whole nine yards.”

Killian gave her a smug grin. “You’re on.”

They shook on it, and then Emma’s head fell to his shoulder. “I guess this means we should get back to work.”

“I don’t know about you, but I need a break.” Killian picked up her Roku remote. “The Musketeers?”

Emma pouted. “You know too many of my weaknesses.”

He waved the remote in her face. “Just a few episodes, Swan, you know you want to.”

She scowled at him as she snatched the remote. “One episode, then it’s back to work.”

He flashed her a toothy smile as he rose and pulled her onto the couch with him. She curled up next to him, grabbing a blanket from the arm of the sofa. One episode turned into three, which turned into both of them drifting off. The next thing Emma new, sunlight was filtering through her curtains, and Killian’s chest was rising and falling beneath her cheek.

So much for getting back to work.

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

Emma stifled a yawn as she walked up and down the rows in her first block class as her freshmen clicked away on their laptops to identify the dependent clauses in the list of sentences on their screens. She had a cup of coffee on her desk, but she was pretty sure it was cold by now. Her neck hurt too because Killian’s shoulder apparently didn’t make a very good pillow.

She paused just as she walked past Violet’s desk. The normally quiet and studious girl was laughing behind her hand, and was that the ding of an incoming message Emma had just heard from her computer? Emma spun back around, and Violet’s eyes grew large and round. The girl slammed her laptop closed, her face turning red and Emma almost felt sorry for her. She couldn’t have looked more guilty if she’d tried.

“I . . . finished early,” Violet stammered.

Emma held her hand out, “Let me see.”

Violet slumped as she turned the device towards her teacher. Emma opened the computer, and Violet’s grammar work was there on the screen. Yet down in the corner was the icon for the Discord app. Emma pulled it up and saw that Violet had been chatting with Grace three rows over. But one of her best students chatting in class in an app that wasn’t even supposed to be downloaded onto a school computer wasn’t what shocked Emma. What shocked her was the content of the conversation.

whiterabbit: saw somethin this morning

camelotgirl: what

whiterabbit: know how ms swan lives across the street

camelotgirl: yeah

whiterabbit: i saw mr jones leaving this am they hooked up!!!!

camelotgirl: no way mayb he was just givin her a ride

whiterabbit: no his car was at her place all night

camelotgirl: she does seem tired lol

whiterabbit: you know he wore her out 😜

camelotgirl: O.M.G

Emma knew her face was ten times redder than Violet’s. Which was saying a lot because Violet was currently the color of a tomato. Emma took a deep, slow breath, then released it and told herself not to panic.

“Violet, I would like to see you and Grace after class. In the meantime, you are to concentrate on the assignment and that is all.” Emma arched a brow at Grace, who also slumped in her seat. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Ms. Swan,” the girls murmured in reply.

Emma pushed Violet’s computer back to her, and forced herself to lengthen her spin and keep her voice calm. She finished the lesson, feeling relief surge through her when the bell rang. Grace and Violet, with heads down dejectedly, shuffled reluctantly to Emma’s desk.

“How did you girls get that app on your computers?” Emma asked. “You know social media of any kind isn’t allowed on school devices.”

She tapped her fingertips on the desk as she regarded the girls. Actually, the laptops were set up with all kinds of blocks and security settings, so whoever got around it was smart. Grace and Violet were good students, but they weren’t the computer hacker types.

“Do we have to tell you?” Violet asked, her lower lip trembling. “We don’t want to get him in trouble!”

Emma forced herself not to smirk. Violet had been dating Henry Mills for a few months now, and she had a strong suspicion he was the him. He was a good kid as well, but also entirely too smart. Not to mention his mother was the principal, which meant he had free rein of the school after hours. She’d also noticed him spending a large amount of time with Graham Humbert, the school IT guy. Emma had assumed it was because his mother had briefly (and notoriously) dated him, but it looked like Henry had other reasons for seeking the man out.

“No, you don’t have to tell me,” Emma said, leaving out the fact that she would be having a private conversation with his mother later. Violet visibly deflated. “But, you will be deleting that app immediately.”

She had both girls pull up Discord, and when their chat once again filled the screen, Grace turned to Emma.

“I only told Violet, and I promise I won’t tell anyone else. Your secret is safe with us.”

Emma let out an irritated breath before smoothing her features into what Killian called her “teacher face.”

“I appreciate that, Grace, but this illustrates why you can’t jump to conclusions. Gossip can do a lot of damage. Mr. Jones and I were grading papers together, that’s all.”

“Teachers pull all nighters?” Violet asked as her brows rose.

Emma chuckled. “Yes, sometimes. Term papers take a really long time to grade, so this is a very stressful time of year. That’s why I’m tired all the time.”

She gave Grace a pointed look then, and the poor girl turned a bright shade of red. “We’re sorry, Ms. Swan.”

“Apology accepted. Now, erase this app because if I see it again, I’ll have to write you up and send you to Mr. Humbert to get your hard drive wiped.”

She was fairly certain the threat of a hard drive wipe was more motivation for the girls than demerits.

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

Emma jumped when a to-go bag from Granny’s was plopped onto her desk. She rubbed her eyes wearily and blinked to clear the sleep from them. How had she fallen asleep so fast? It felt like the bell just rang to dismiss her kids to go to lunch. She looked up to see Killian standing there with a pleased grin on his face.

“Grilled cheese,” he told her.

“With fries?”

“Onion rings.”

“Good,” she said as she grabbed the bag, “I was just testing you.”

Emma bit her lower lip as she watched Killian pull up a chair and set his own Granny’s bag on her desk. School gossip had never bothered her before, but after the chat she’d read between Violet and Grace, she was tempted to ask him to eat lunch somewhere else. But how could she when he’d bought her favorite meal? Besides, it wasn’t the first time he had spoiled her this way. She’d completely taken advantage of his coveted third block planning period, yet he’d never complained.

“So how’s it going?” he asked, gesturing to her computer screen.

“It’s not,” she sighed. “I told you The Musketeers was a mistake. I’ve barely been able to keep my eyes open all day.”

He chuckled before taking a bite of Granny’s lasagna. She studied him as she dipped an onion ring in ketchup. If he was equally exhausted, he showed no evidence of it. His eyes were as bright blue as they ever were, his black dress slacks, collared shirt, and leather vest hugging his frame in a tasteful yet fashionable way. His hair was tousled, but artfully so, and she knew full well he’d spent time in front of the mirror to get it to look that way.

“What?” he asked after swallowing a bite of salad. “Do I have sauce on my shirt?”

She shook her head and smiled. “You just don’t look as tired as I do, that’s all, and it’s completely unfair.”

He shrugged and waggled his eyebrows. “What can I say? I’m devilishly handsome.”

Normally she would roll her eyes and throw him a witty retort, but today she was more aware of his flirting than usual. She glanced over his shoulder at the door that led to the hallway.

“Something is bothering you, Swan,” he told her seriously, “and it isn’t your fatigue.” He leaned closer. “You know you look lovely as always, right?”

Emma shifted nervously in her chair. “You probably shouldn’t say things like that at work.”

Killian’s eyes widened, but he quickly covered it with his usual charming smile. “Then I’ll just save it for tonight. I was thinking you could come to my place, and I could cook for you because God knows you need to be eating more than Pop Tarts and grilled cheese.”

Emma kept her eyes glued to her sandwich. “I don’t know. I was thinking I might just grade on my own tonight.”

Killian was silent for such a long time, that she finally lifted her gaze to his. There were times she got the uncanny feeling he could read her mind. Her heartbeat picked up, worried he would ask for an explanation, but instead he quirked his lips into a half smile.

“I won’t force feed you broccoli, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I just need to focus, that’s all,” Emma muttered before cramming another onion ring in her mouth.

“Okay,” he said slowly, “then how about you come over tomorrow night?”

Emma suppressed a groan. He was really going to make this difficult, wasn’t he? “I actually think we need to stop . . . you know, spending so much time together.”

Killian narrowed his eyes. “Where is this coming from?”

She let out a long, slow breath before telling him about the Discord chat she had stumbled upon. When she finished, his expression was unreadable. He just sat there, lounging back on that stupid plastic orange school chair as if she was an open book.

Oh, who was she kidding? He could always see right through her.

“Okay, Swan,” he finally said with a long, slow nod.

He rose from the desk and stepped right into her personal space, balancing both hands on the arms of the leather desk chair she had saved up money to buy herself. It was an extremely fancy chair that spun and rocked. Emma currently had it leaning back as far as it would go, and still Killian leaned forward, his nose almost brushing hers. His eyes, a darker blue than they had been when he first walked in, searched her face. His gaze flickered to her lips, and Emma wondered if he would kiss her. When he spoke instead, she was surprised at how disappointed she was.

“But the bet is still on,” he told her, voice low.

“The bet?” she winced when it came out high-pitched. Damn, she wanted to kiss him right now. What? No, he was her best friend! It wasn’t like that. It couldn’t be like that.

“The Sadie Hawkins dance?”

“That is a sexist and antiquated tradition.”

“Be that as it may,” he quipped with arched brows, “Storybrooke High is having one, and if I finish my term papers first, you owe me a schoolmarm outfit and a dance.”

“The bet was we had to wear whatever the other one chose. We never said anything about a dance.”

Killian leaned ever closer, turning his head to whisper in her ear. “I’m changing the terms. I want a dance.”

Emma swallowed, his close proximity sending a chill down her spine. “I am disinclined to acquiesce to your proposal,” she shot back, quoting one of his favorite movies.

Killian released the chair and stepped back, a crooked grin on his face. “We shall see about that. Good day, Swan.”

She sagged in her chair, her heart racing. It was as if she had thrown down a challenge, and Killian decided to rise to the occasion. No Emma, she admonished herself with a quick shake of her head, poor choice of words! She wet her lips, trying to calm herself down, but there was no denying it.

She had a thing for Killian Jones.

Which meant she had just lost her best friend. She turned to her desk with a groan and dropped her head to the hard surface.

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

Emma smiled when she saw the little bag of Hershey Kisses in her teacher box. She pulled them out and read the accompanying note:

75 down and only 15 more to go! I sense a schoolmarm outfit in someone’s future! Love, Killian

Her smile widened to a full blown grin as she dropped the gift into her messenger bag and pulled out her cell phone.

Thanks for the chocolate, Jones, but I see a sweater and a bow tie. 78 down. *mic drop*

Emma chuckled under her breath as she sent the text. She tossed her phone back into her bag and fished around for her keys as she headed down the humanities wing. She was surprised to see Violet and Grace waiting for her outside her door.

“What are you girls doing here so early?”

The teens glanced at each other nervously.

“We, um, wanted to talk to you,” Grace explained.

“Ok,” Emma replied as she unlocked the door. A tiny part of her worried that their private Discord chat had somehow become public, but she quickly pushed it away. After all, she had avoided Killian for a week now; their only interactions texts and the frequent chocolates left in her teacher box.

Emma entered the classroom, flipped on the lights then dropped her bag beneath her desk. She plopped into her chair and spun to face her students.

“I’m listening, ladies.”

“Well . . . “ Violet began hesitantly, “you see, we’ve been thinking, and . . . um . . . I mean, we noticed -”

“We think you should ask Mr. Jones to the Sadie Hawkins dance,” Grace blurted out.

Emma’s eyes grew wide. “I’m sorry . . . what?”

“It’s all our fault,” Grace hurried on, “that you won’t hang out with Mr. Jones anymore. I mean, everyone knows you’re together all the time - “

“- until now,” Violet put in.

“Exactly!” Grace nodded. “And Mr. Jones just hasn’t been the same. He’s really sad.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Girls, I seriously doubt Mr. Jones is pining over me or anything. We’re just friends. And I haven’t stopped hanging out with him, we’re both just busy.”

She pulled her laptop out of her messenger back and opened it up on her desk, expecting that to be it, but the girls lingered. She glanced up at them with raised brows.

“You’re wrong, Ms. Swan,” Violet said softly, “he really is sad.”

“How do you know this? You’re freshmen, he teaches juniors.”

“Henry said so.”

Emma frowned at Violet. “Your boyfriend told you his teacher is sad?”

“Well, yeah. Henry wants to be a writer, and he’s always hanging around after school because of his mom, so he’s gotten to know Mr. Jones really well.”

Emma bit her lip as she regarded the girl. She was well aware of the bond between Killian and Henry Mills. The boy had even let Killian read a few of his short stories.

“And everyone’s noticed the yearning looks and doey eyes,” Grace added with a smirk.

Emma scoffed. “I don’t yearn.”

“But he does,” both girls said at the same time.

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

Killian Jones was well aware of his tendency to brood. He used to argue when his brother Liam would accuse him of it, but now? Now there was no sense denying it. He was brooding, melancholy, angst-ridden, and a thousand other synonyms for dramatic and pathetic. He was a grown man acting like a teenager in a Disney Channel movie.

He threw his red pen down on his desk in frustration, realizing that his mind was a thousand miles away from Emily Dickinson and her dash-filled poetry. He was so close to finishing his term papers - just five to go - and he’d never wanted to win a bet so badly in his life. He’d missed Emma terribly even though it had only been a week. If he won the bet, maybe he could at least get one dance.

How many synonyms were there for pathetic?

There was a knock at his classroom door, and he wearily called out for the person to come in. He was thinking of leaving anyway. It was past five, and he obviously wasn’t getting anything else done today.

Henry Mills appeared tentatively in the doorway, and Killian grinned.

“Good afternoon, my boy, or should I say good evening? It’s late for you to still be around.”

Henry came closer to his desk with a shrug, and it was only then that Killian realized he was carrying a large shirt box.

“I went home, actually, but Violet and Ms. Swan asked me to bring this to you. Mom said you were still here, so . . . “

The boy trailed off as he set the box on Killian’s desk. Killian narrowed his eyes as he stood and regarded the box.

“Ms. Swan in league with your girlfriend? What’s all this about?”

“Beats me,” Henry said, “I’m just the messenger.”

Killian lifted the lid on the box, and inside was a pair of khaki pants and a gray cardigan sweater with huge brown buttons. Resting on top was a red bowtie and a note. Killian picked it up and opened it to find Emma’s messy handwriting.

90 term papers graded, Jones. I win. So will you go with me to the Sadie Hawkins?

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

“It’s totally unfair, you know,” Emma told Killian as she entered the gym on his arm.

“What’s unfair?”

“That you still look hot dressed like a nerd.”

“I told you,” Killian quipped with a waggle of his eyebrows, “I’m devilishly handsome.”

Emma laughed and smacked him in the chest.

“I have to say, Swan,” he said giving her an appreciative gaze, “you cut quite the figure in that dress.”

She was dressed in a much softer, feminine way than was normal for her. Her dress was pink with an A-line skirt that hit her knees. She had pulled her hair up into a ponytail that she had curled with a curling iron. To be honest, she had never had a date to a school dance before. So maybe this former foster girl was indulging in a childhood fantasy; at least she knew Killian could understand that.

“Why thank you,” she told him, a blush staining her cheeks. “You’re not disappointed about missing out on your schoolmarm fantasy?”

Killian grinned brightly as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Oh, I have multiple fantasies, Swan.”

She was completely incapable of a come back when he looked at her that way. She bit her lower lip, her gaze drifting to his mouth.

“Oh for the love of God, just kiss already!”

The two of them jumped apart, faces flaming to see their boss Regina Mills standing there, her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. She had traded in her everyday sensible pantsuit for a sensible dress skirt instead. The two of them held their breath, worried they were about to get a lecture on school romances, but Regina just rolled her eyes at them.

“Just keep it PG, ok? Now get to the punch bowl already!”

Grace and Violet may have kept the topic of their Discord chat a secret, but they didn’t do the same about Emma asking Killian to the dance. All night, kids were coming up to tell them how cute they were together. Emma felt her face had turned as red as the punch.

Halfway through the evening, the DJ called them out by name to come out on the dance floor. The hoots and cheers of the students as Killian led her out to the middle of the gym floor was deafening. He rested one hand at her waist and clasped his other one with hers as Christina Perri’s “The Words” began to play. Emma breathed a sigh of relief when students drifted onto the floor as well.

“You don’t like being the center of attention, do you?” Killian teased.

“Not exactly,” Emma laughed.

“Well, unfortunately, you need to get used to it.”

Emma tilted her head. “Why?”

“Because there’s no one here as beautiful as you.”

As cheesy as the line was, for the second time that night, he had left her speechless. Emma’s only response was to release Killian’s hand so she could wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer. He grinned in response, wrapping his arms about her waist. The song was winding down, and several of the students noticed how they had drawn closer together. The hoots and cheers from earlier filled the gym. Killian arched a brow at her, and Emma’s eyes widened. What was he up to? She let out a small yelp when he suddenly dipped her, winking down at her. The cheers of the students grew even louder, and now many of them were chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Emma almost panicked when Killian pulled her closer when he lifted her back up. Yet the kiss he gave her was only a brief brush of lips against her cheek, and she sighed in relief. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to kiss him - God, did she want to! - she just didn’t want their first kiss to have an audience, especially an audience they had to see every single day.

So when the song ended, Emma tugged Killian through the crowd, away from the punch bowl. The dance committee had borrowed sets from the drama club’s last production of Oklahoma! for the night’s western theme. She yanked Killian behind a giant mural of a Conestoga wagon and beneath the bleachers.

“Making out under the bleachers, Ms. Swan?’ Killian admonished with an exaggerated frown. “I’ll have you know I’m a gentlem-”

Emma cut him off, yanking him forward by the front of his sweater, and crashed her lips into his. He was clearly surprised at first, but he caught up quickly. Kissing him was just as good as she had always imagined, his lips soft yet firm, and one of his hands tangled in her ponytail. Emma tilted her head, deepening the kiss, and she swore his tongue tasted like Hershey’s chocolate.

They could have stayed there behind those bleachers, kissing until their lips were swollen, but they both knew they would be missed. And getting caught making out would definitely not be PG. So she and Killian made their way back to the punch bowl, their fingers threaded together, sharing ridiculously sappy smiles.

The rest of the night was like one of those teen rom-coms Emma used to hate. Killian draped his sweater over her shoulders as they walked from the gym to his car, and her foot might have popped like Mia Thermopolis when he kissed her goodnight at her door. Despite kissing under the bleachers, he hadn’t been kidding. He was a perfect gentleman. And Emma literally swooned against the door after telling him goodbye. She waited for the fear to grip her. Fear that she’d let him in too fast. Fear that he wouldn’t stick around. Fear that their friendship would be ruined. But the fear didn’t come.

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

“Hit me.”

Killian Jones grinned, unwrapped a Hershey Kiss and tossed it into Emma’s open mouth. She ate it with an exaggerated moan, then licked her lips suggestively. He leaned across the coffee table and captured her lips in a deep kiss, tasting the chocolate on her tongue.

By the end of the night, there was an obscene amount of foil wrappers littering the living room floor, and Killian knew they would be finding those tiny paper tails in the carpet for the next month.

But that was okay. He and his wife did this every year. Kisses were the best way, after all, to get through term paper season.

#cs ff #cs modern au #best friends #friends to lovers #teacher!emma #teacher!killian #fluff #fandom birthday playlist #for snowbellewells #on her birthday

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postexchange · 4 years

Text

@staff re: your new ‘update’

i took your little survey but do not feel that the questions and especially the answer choices were at all inclusive. there should have been sections for comments, feedback, explanations. instead you are going to have a bunch of these types of posts that you’re going to say you look at but aren’t really going to. i’m still going to try anyways.

i think there was an attempt to make things higher quality on the dash? i like that, but it’s slowing everything down even though you say it should be faster and smoother than ever before. i will say that things are smoother on mobile devices (which this update seems to be centered/catered to) but it was better on my desktop before. when posts get stuck pixelated or completely unloaded and there is only infinite scroll, i cannot refresh the page without losing my place. and as a person who likes to fully scroll through the entirety of my dash whenever possible, i am often quite far and would lose out on so many posts if i cannot see them or miss them by refreshing. pages should be an option. actually, almost everything you ever want to integrate now and in the future should always be an option! you would save so many headaches for yourselves in having to listen to us complain and you would protect the sanity of others who didn’t ask for and do not want particular features. increased accessibility is great and for the visually impaired community especially, i am sure color palettes and font style/size changes are welcome (as well as for mobile users) but we should be able to turn them off, or adjust them to our own personal preferences, not what you think we all need/want. i have never felt the need for x-kit before but i think that i am going to be using that as soon as they can support this new update. other things i’ve noticed would be autoplay for videos on the dash, big no thank you. hopefully just a bug thing would be broken read mores, an no read mores from mobile. read more cuts are so important, they should be available and work properly across all platforms. ads/sponsored posts are annoying (at least ad block works on desktops) but i understand why they exist, just please don’t make them too frequent, too large in size, and no video ads. the integration where they appear almost behind regular posts on mobile is nice. i do also like the meatball menu and its new location, especially the color coded block/report, makes it harder to accidentally do something you didn’t wish to do which was especially easy on tiny mobile buttons when they were close to like and reblog. a little feature i think you should consider for the future, adding a reply button to the top bar section (like where the like, reblog, follow, and return to home buttons are) when you view a blog post not from the dash. it would also be nice if i could search the tags in my likes or drafts and not have it search through those tags for all of tumblr. i also need pages as an option for my likes sections. i have so many of them and like to go back and reblog from years ago but i will never reach the depths of those pages again with infinite scroll. grid view is a nice option though, i might make use of that sometimes (and see how easy making something an option was? that was a good idea!).

#staff #tumblr update #feedback

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princehcmlet · 5 years

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hey guppy! we’re a brand new semi-appless rp about a group of college students who find themselves tormented by strange events after spending a night in a haunted house. could we please get your opinion? thank you so much!

of course you may have my opinion ! i’d be honored to give you it, and i’m excited to look into the blog. as always, here’s a little disclaimer before i get into it: i, in no way, am attempting to slander your blog or the work you’ve created. i simply want to give constructive criticism, which may sometimes come off as harsh. if it does feel too rude or heartless feel free to contact me for clarifications or for the opinion to get taken down. okay, with that out of the way, it will all be under the cut.

the icon and the url are honestly so intriguing to me. they’re very pleasing to see and read, and if i were just browsing the tag i’d definitely click onto the blog to see more. no need for changes there ! as for the main itself, neutral color scheme, that adds an air of mystery. the one thing that bothers me is the icons used for the navigation buttons. the grape and sun kind of throw off the spooky vibes of the rp, and it would be cool if you replaced those with icons in the font that work with your overall aesthetic. if you’re interested in changing the little icons on the navigation this is the icon font the theme-maker used, and it shows you how to put them into the theme. this is mostly a nitpick, though, so don’t worry about it too much. otherwise, the theme looks sick ! as for the navigation, it’s so organized and that makes me happy. my only suggestion here would be to move the sample apps onto the actual application page, at the top maybe. so that people can click back and forth between samples and the regular app. so far, all of your aesthetics and organization are beautiful and amazing.

for the plot, i seriously have no suggestions. it’s written beautifully, and i love the imagery. the idea is interesting, and i like that it’s based around the aftermath of the fright, versus having it before the fright and making the group all about the things leading up to that night. love it, love it, love it ! let’s take a look at the locations/extras now. they’re also amazing and well done, but i noticed one tiny spelling mistake, “Where space is available, postgraduate studentsare invited to stay in Huntley House alongside their undergraduate peers.” the bolded part should be corrected to have a space between the two words. otherwise, no suggestions or changes to be made ! going on to the rules, they’re straightforward and cover almost everything ! my only suggestion is adding a rule regarding bubble roleplaying or cliques. just to be safe rather than sorry. for the final point of this section, i’ll take a look at the applications itself ! i think that it’s very well done, and i like the semi-appless vibe. i’ll be interested in seeing what kind of characters pop up in the roleplay.

finally, i took a look at the checklist, which all checks out... sorry for the dumb pun. but, seriously everything looks kind of amazing. if i had the time i’d be filling out an app because you guys deserve a hell of a lot of interest. this is definitely getting put in my rec tags because there isn’t much else to say. great job, maddy and abby ! i’m wishing you luck and hoping this lasts for a long, long time.

#tormenthq #rph #rpt #rpc #rpa #opinion #rec

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tenroseforeverandever · 6 years

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Dear Father Christmas... Chapter 1: December 24, 2016

Cover art by the wonderful @rose--nebula!

MASTERPOST

Characters: Tentoo; Rose Tyler; Jackie Tyler; Pete Tyler; Tony Tyler; OC Hope Tyler-Noble; OC Charlotte Tyler-Noble; OC Wilfred Tyler-Noble

Rated: Teen

Tags: Family!Fic; Kid!Fic; Pete’s World; Letters to Santa; Christmas Fic; Family; Fluff; Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Romance; Love

Summary: When Rose Tyler was little, she always wrote a Christmas wish list to Father Christmas. As she grew older, the wish list became more of a letter to someone she could confide in once a year, but she fell out of the habit somewhere along the way. Now, as a new mum, celebrating her daughter’s first Christmas, Rose takes up writing her Christmas letter to Father Christmas once again.

Rose’s Christmas letters are excerpts from her life with her beloved Tentoo and their children in Pete’s World, written once a year, for each of 31 years.

Notes:

Part of my These Two Hearts series

Written for prompts provided by @doctorroseprompts over on Tumblr for their 31 Days of Ficmas celebration. I’ve played with the order of the prompts a bit, but I intend to use them all.

This will be a huge challenge for me. For those of you who know me well, you’ll know I am not a fast writer. To post one of these every day for 31 days will be pushing me well and truly to my limits. They may not all get posted on time, but they will get posted. Promise.

My eternal thanks to my brilliant betas @rose--nebula and mrsbertucci for picking up on the things I miss and for chivvying me along. ((((hugs))))

The first prompt is Hope. Please enjoy.

Also read at: AO3; FF.net; Teaspoon

December 24th, 2016

Dear Father Christmas,

Blimey! It’s been a while. I don’t think I’ve written to you since… well since Jimmy. That bloody wanker sucked the magic out of everything. He sucked the magic right out of my life. But that’s all right. The Doctor gave me back the magic and then some.

Oh my God! I just realized! Maybe you don’t even know who I am. Is Father Christmas even the same bloke in all universes? Are you a transdimensional entity? I reckon not, or else transdimensional travel would be possible, and we know for a fact it’s not, not any more.

I know I’m just being stupid. Transdimensional capabilities or not, you’re obviously just a fictional character, a product of children’s imaginations and a bloated, economy-driven society. Still, I bet the Doctor would disagree. He’d probably tell me Santa is an actual being from some planet with an unpronounceable name. Complete with elves too! I wager he’d say “lots of planets have a North Pole”. But most of his knowledge is based on the Prime Universe… for now. So even if you are real there, you may not be the same in this universe, or you may not exist at all.

Don’t suppose it matters anyway, yeah? It was just always nice to chat with you like this every year, so I guess I’ll start again. I missed this. Back in the Prime Universe, Mum got me started writing to you every Christmas Eve, even when I was just a baby. Those first notes were just a few pencil scratches. Complete rubbish. She loved them, anyway. She kept them safe for years, would bring them out every Christmas and show them around along with the naked baby photos, (especially if I had been a cow to her or we’d had a row.) But she had to leave them all behind in the Prime Universe with so much else from our lives. Embarrassing as they were, it would’ve been nice to be able to, well… Enough of that!

By the time I was four, I knew all my letters. I was so determined to do it myself, write my own Christmas wish list. Mostly it was just all the things I wanted for Christmas. But I always minded my manners. I said please and thank-you. I always asked after Mrs. Claus and the reindeer. And, I hope I was never greedy. Sorry if I was, even if you aren’t actually the right Father Christmas to apologize to.

As I got older, I realized you weren’t real (sorry!) and my letters to you became more of a diary. You know… private stuff I’d write every year, yeah. It was nice to be able to say things, to tell someone things I couldn’t say to anyone else. Course, I stopped for a while, because Jimmy… I’d never want him to find those letters and have that to hold over me. Anyway, it’s not like I’d ever had the chance to write them, working two, sometimes three jobs, just to keep that knob in fags and drink. And after a while, I just got out of the habit, and life took some good turns… and some bad turns. Then some really bad turns.

But now, life is completely brilliant! I have my Doctor by my side... forever! I have my own baby girl. (Hope’s her name and she’ll be writing you a note too this year!) And, to top it off, I’m actually dictating these letters now. Voice recognition software! The Doctor jiggery-pokeried it so when it’s printed it uses my handwriting as the font.

I’m rambling, aren’t I? Guess I’m just a bit nervous (and excited) about doing this again and getting Hope started too.

I think you’ll like Hope. But I’m warning you, I don’t think she’s quite like other babies. Well, I know she isn’t. She’s her father’s daughter, that’s for sure. Nine months old, and she’s already talking up a storm. Full sentences! Just watch, she’ll be able to use this voice recognition software… Course, I don’t know what her handwriting font will look like, ‘cause she’s pretty much like a normal baby in her gross and fine motor development, so no handwriting just yet. Her verbal and cognitive development, though… the doctors at Torchwood say it’s off the charts.

It scares me if I’m being honest. I don’t know how I can ever be a mum to her… a proper mum. Thank God I have the Doctor by my side to keep her entertained, because she takes in absolutely everything and it’s never enough. But he “gets” her. He knows how to keep her happy. We take her on adventures (safe ones, don’t worry!) all through space and time. And we explore. Oh, we explore so much!

But it’s so different from the way I explored as a kid, ya know? Here’s an example. We go to a beach, yeah, with rock pools and lovely sand too, and the water is so warm and wavy. Now me, as a kid, I’d splash in the waves and muck about in the sand with my pail and spade. And at the rock pool, I’d poke at a few beasties and squeal about them. It was all just in fun. But with Hope, everything is so intense. She investigates everything, and her Daddy is right there with her, coaxing her to connect the dots herself, filling in the bits she’s missed. The starfish (sorry, sea star − I must use proper terminology!) was carefully examined, all its little bits explored and then thoroughly researched back at the TARDIS, and not just the names of the bits, but the hows and whys of them too.

And then the Doctor reads to her… not baby books, but Harry Potter and Narnia and Oliver Twist. She’s even sounding out some parts herself. He’ll break out the sciencey stuff, the physics and chemistry and biology, and the maths too, when it has something to do with what happened on our adventure that day. And she hangs on every word. I don’t know if she understands everything he reads her, but she sure understands a lot of it.

She’s just so tiny, just an infant, but her mind is so big. Definitely bigger on the inside, our child is! I love her like I never thought I could love anyone, but I’m so frightened that… that… well, that she won’t love me, a stupid ape. How can I be a proper mum to her when she already knows more about bloody sea stars than I ever will?

Then there are those times when I hold her in my arms and feed her at my breast, when I snuggle her to sleep, and I breathe in her sweet baby smell. It’s almost normal. Sometimes I can even get her giggling, completely out of control, over the most simple things, like peek-a-boo. And when she bumps her head, her arms immediately come up for me to hold her and kiss it better. Me! That makes me feel like a proper mum.

You should have seen her when we were putting up the Christmas tree this afternoon. Her fat little fingers were grabbing for all those bright shiny baubles, and her eyes were so wide and she didn’t know where to look first because it was all so pretty. And then Daddy came prancing down the stairs from the console room wearing a big red light-up nose and huge felt antlers on his head, and we were all in hysterics. I really felt like part of the family, and I kind of realized I don’t always feel that way.

It’s made me think, though, going forward, I really need to make a place for her in my life as she grows. I always used to love to paint and draw. Once upon a time, I was even going to go for my A-levels in art. Before Jimmy. I’d like to take that up again, and I could teach her too, eventually, when she can actually hold a brush. Maybe we could do that together. And singing and dancing, not to mention gymnastics when she’s old enough.

Blimey! This has been one weird Christmas letter, yeah? And I haven’t even asked for any presents. I honestly just want my family to be healthy and happy, and I want to be able to be a proper mum to Hope. Not really stuff you can just hide under the tree.

Oh! Here comes Hopie now, in her Daddy’s arms, all fresh from her bath. Hey there, baby girl! Are you ready to write your letter to Father Christmas? C’mere, sit on Mummy’s lap and maybe Daddy will make us a cuppa. (Thanks, love!) And, my darling girl, as soon as you’re finished with your letter, we better head right over to see Gran and Grandad and Uncle Tony. There’ll be hell to pay if we’re late! (I hear you moaning, Doctor!)

Okay, Father Christmas, here’s me, signing off for this year. Lots of love to Mrs. Claus and all the reindeer and elves too! Thanks for listening to me whinge. It really helped to get it off my chest. I know, I know! I need to tell the Doctor how I’ve been feeling, but I don’t want him going and feeling guilty just because he’s being a bloody amazing dad. But I’ll talk to him; I promise.

Happy Christmas!

love, Rose

#doctorroseprompts #31 days of ficmas 2017 #kid fic #family fic #tentoo x rose #ficandchips #pete's world #letters to santa #christmas fic #fluff #angst #love #hurt/comfort #tenroseforeverandever's fic

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senfinity · 6 years

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HELLO!

I have decided that I am going to come back to senfinity~ I know I technically already said this two weeks ago but me being me has to, of course, post a long text post in <small> font highlighting several points because honestly would it really be Tanya if she didn’t write an essay about every minuscule thing? Nope! So with that being said, the rest is going to go under a read more because I am fully aware most people don’t care and I don’t want to clog your dash. But otherwise you can click on (I’ll bold the main points for if you do care but also don’t wanna read a whole post), and also there is another piece of info right at the end so you can also just skip to that //nods//

I just want to warn everyone that I have a tendency to ramble and you can blame that on me having Mercury in the first house. I’ve also been stuck to the teeny tiny constraints of Twitter for much too long so I am just letting loose, clearly. But anywho!

In my goodbye post I said that Tumblr wasn’t a good place for me anymore because it had made me condescending, bitter, and unhappy, and that’s why I left in the first place and said that I most likely wasn’t going to come back. I remember when I posted my hiatus message before the goodbye post, I honest to goodness cried a wee bit because this really was my happy place and where I could express myself about Sehun the most, so having to leave it was a struggle and I remember being so weak that just the day after I wanted to return ;; But I managed to somehow stay off for 9 months so I think we should all be proud because I truly lack self control and that is a feat.

But after being off senfinity for a while and even attempting to start anew with a new blog and then Twitter, I realized a few things and that is what has led me to my eventual return!

Insecurities had resurfaced/were brought to light: I decided to make a new blog to be able to do what I love (talk about Sehun) while also not be associated with the negativity I attached to senfinity. However after the first few days of being on the new blog, I started to feel alone and isolated. Having senfinity and having been on there for so long and in a sense establishing myself in my own comfortable space, suddenly being completely out of it just felt really isolating, as if I had lost a big part of me. I started feeling really small, useless, and that nothing I said or did mattered. This sounds really dramatic, but I think it’s because I in general feel really isolated and have no idea what my identity is, but through senfinity I was able to belong somewhere and have at least one piece of my identity fixed, so I never used to think about these insecurities as much. So when I was out of that, I guess it made those resurface and taint everything to the point where I just couldn’t go on my new blog. But I couldn’t go on senfinity either because I just said I was going to leave - I can’t just come back a few days later. So all in all it just felt really isolating and lonely and that I couldn’t really go anywhere and it was making me sad.

I felt as if I had no voice: In a similar vein, now that I was isolated and had nowhere to really ‘be’ in a sense, I started feeling like I had no voice. As we all know I talk a lot about Sehun and that was what I considered one of my main voices because he’s a really big part of me. But now that I didn’t have senfinity which was my main platform for that voice, and I felt too isolated and alone on my new blog, my voice just felt like it was completely drowned out and eventually extinguished. Considering what a big part of me that voice was, having it gone like that was really emptying somehow and it just ended up making me more sad.

Tried too hard to gain those back to the point where it ruined the experience on Twitter: Because of me now not having anywhere to say or do anything, I decided to use my Twitter that was initially for Sehun updates as a new senfinity in a sense. It was fine initially, but after a while the same feelings that I got on my new blog were starting to take over on Twitter, too - only this time even worse. Every time I saw a Sehun stan or a post about Sehun, I started feeling really insecure because that’s something I wish I could do and used to be able to do but couldn’t anymore. It made my anxiety flare up because those insecurities were triggered again, and because of that, I started feeling like I had to do or say something to re-establish myself and my voice to get rid of that anxiety/insecurity and it just really began to ruin the whole experience because I was too busy focusing on doing something that would have use/impact instead of just enjoying being on a new account. Not to mention because of that insecurity and anxiety, I started growing this bitterness towards everything (mainly Sehun stans lmao), and needless to say it was exhausting and unenjoyable being on Twitter.

Stanning Sehun was no longer selfless: One of the things that was so special about Sehun in me loving him was that I was really selfless about it. I’m selfish for everything; 95% of the things I do is for a selfish ulterior motive, and if something doesn’t satisfy that, then I drop it (be it friendships or hobbies or anything) because I want to protect myself. That made me sound really evil lmao I assure I am not evil, though >:[ But either way. Loving Sehun though was the complete opposite of that. I just loved him for him, and I never once thought about myself or did anything for him in regards to benefiting myself; it was always just about him, for him, and because of him. I didn’t love and support him because he made me happy, I just simply loved him and it so happened that loving him made me happy. However because of the previous three points, that aspect started to disappear as well. On my Twitter I started focusing too much on myself - desperately trying to get my voice back and having an identity again, feeling annoyed when I failed each time, but trying again and again because I kept getting anxiety. And I feel horrible to admit this but I started, in a sense, using Sehun for a selfish purpose - to gain those back. I remember I was about to write a tweet talking about how loving Sehun was a selfless thing for me, but as I was writing it I realized that it wasn’t like that at all anymore. As soon as that realization hit me, I got so so sad because Sehun is my one good thing and he was special from everything else and here I was managing to taint it, to make him just like everything else, to make it something that was no longer enjoyable. I managed to ruin that one good thing, the only good thing I have, and it just made me feel so stretched thin and exhausted.

Wanted to leave: Because of that, I started even considering that - now that I don’t have senfinity, now that I can’t use my new blog, now that Twitter is unenjoyable, now that I’ve tainted my support for Sehun with selfish reasons, now that I just feel anxious and insecure at all these little things that shouldn’t be bothering me at all, now that this is no longer something that is good for me - I should just take a break from it all. I literally considered taking a break from Sehun, the one thing that has quite literally kept me alive for some years, so you can just imagine how bad it got that I even got to that point. I of course never did that because I really just cannot ever in my wildest dreams leave Sehun, but now that I had exhausted all avenues and tainted that one good thing, I just felt so sad and empty and didn’t know what to do. I no longer had a happy thing or a safe place and with my already dreary and dark thoughts, it just was not a good thing at all. I just ended up making Twitter exactly what Tumblr was to me previously and the reason I left Tumblr for, so I just got annoyed at myself for managing to ruin everything.

On a lighter note - the teeny tiny char limit on Twitter: As is extremely evident from this post and from my old tags, I talk a lot and having had the ability to write long text posts and have 500-word-limit tags at my disposal was a blessing because I have a lot of thoughts, and for Sehun I have a lot of feelings, and I really just need to get them all out. However, Twitter with it’s previously 140char and now 280char limit, it was a struggle. Even if I had the ability to write threads, having to split up my thoughts into various tidbits and even then not even whole thoughts, just wasn’t the same. I had to squish all those expansive thoughts and feelings I had into this extremely tiny space, and it was too hard for me and became an annoyance to say anything at all.

I need to express myself but I had no room to, and because of that I started feeling unlike myself, unhappy, and empty: I am someone who genuinely needs to express herself and express herself well. For me, my feelings don’t feel completely real or valid or tangible unless I’m able to lay them out, hence why this post is this long already, because it’s a way for me to make sense of it all and to validate them. However there is really no room for me on Twitter to express my bigger, more significant thoughts, and so I started to feel really suppressed. I still tried of course, because I needed some release even if it was small, however nothing I said ever felt right or like myself, and I was never happy with anything I said. It didn’t feel representative of me and my feelings, and for someone who needs that in order to feel comfortable with them, it was really sad. All my real thoughts were stuck in my head and having been unable to say anything for what is now almost 9 months, it was all knotted and a mess and I couldn’t make sense of them at all. It was even getting harder for me to actually access my feelings for Sehun because they were all knotted up like that, and because of that I started to feel extremely empty. I even started getting anxious to say anything at all because I knew it wouldn’t come out right and I knew it wouldn’t make me happy but I still had to say something, and all of those feelings was making it hard to say anything at all, which ended up being a big cycle.

senfinity really was a part of my happiness: I didn’t realize just how important this aspect of my life was until now, because for the last few months I’ve felt especially empty and drained and have gotten into really bad depressive moods. From the latter half of 2016 to until I left senfinity, it was probably the happiest (or as happy as I can feel) I’ve been because I had dropped out of engineering and was in a program I liked, and I was in such a content mood. I didn’t realize until a few months after me leaving senfinity that having this blog played a really huge role in keeping me in a good head space and hence in a good mood because I was doing something I genuinely liked and found happiness in. Because of no longer being in a good head space and no longer having that one thing that brought me a genuine joy to do, I started losing interest in basically... everything... because I wasn’t in a good place and didn’t have anything to really keep me afloat. I know this all sounds dramatic and dependent, but as someone who doesn’t really know who she is, what direction she wants to go on, what she can do, what she wants to do, and so on, having at least senfinity - which had a part of my identity, was something I loved to do, was something that made me feel connected to Sehun, and so on - was something that was really helpful and was the base block for allowing myself to do other things. So taking that away stripped me of that positive aspect of my life and made everything feel cloudy again because there was no longer that bit of sunshine.

People from Tumblr ended up going to Twitter: Not to sound petty and vindictive towards some other blogs, but there were some blogs on here that had fed into some of my other insecurities (such as not being enough or that what I said didn’t matter which was because of a different set of feelings that still belonged under feeling isolated, but we shall not get into that!) and/or just in general bugged me, and they had made being on here less fun back when I was already feeling a load of negative feelings towards this site. Being on Twitter for a while was great because I at least didn’t have to see some of them, but then soon some of those exact blogs started migrating over to Twitter and now I had to see them there, too. With all my other anxieties and insecurities coming to surface and really tainting my time on Twitter, having these blogs that did that to me on Tumblr now on Twitter too to add on top of that, was really unpleasant.

The feelings I associated with Tumblr have now dissolved/I know what to stay away from: While there are still aspects of Tumblr that I don’t like all that much, the things that had made it so negative for me to be on here before either don’t exist anymore or I had realized how small in scale they were in comparison to whatever I was now feeling. Not to mention that because I had tried Tumblr, leaving Tumblr, making a new Tumblr, then tried Twitter, I had gone through all the options that I could and in the end senfinity was the least taxing and upsetting of them all. On top of that, now that I exhausted all those options and found that senfinity isn’t as bad and because now I know how much I need to have my own place to express myself, I really want to be able to make and keep Tumblr my happy place again because this really is where it all started and where my whole heart for Sehun has been laid out, and it was a little home for my heart and I want to come back. It’s where I can be myself the most and do what I love the most and all those other things that have now arose because of my leaving can now settle back down and restore a balance so I can stop being bogged down by such tiny, minuscule things in the grand scale of it all, and hopefully find my focus, motivation, and happiness again, not just for this but a gateway for everything else, too. Because I know what made being on here so annoying before, and because I know that this is my safe place, I will know what to avoid to ensure that it stays that way.

As you can see, a lot of stuff has happened to my mental state and experience in the time I’ve been gone. I admit that it all sounds really dramatic and quite lame because I’m sure people think that little things like blogs and Twitter and tags shouldn’t affect a person this much. Sadly this is me, and because of loads of other personal things and because I honest to goodness live in my head where there’s too much going on that for the most part are negative, little things like these truly have a decently huge effect on me because it tugs at a multitude of the thoughts living in my head.

But now that I've finally figured it all out, I realized that coming back to senfinity really is the best thing for me to do. I’m excited because this really is my own little place. I’m excited to stop being sad over everything and anxious because of useless things and to be able to move tf on and find a happiness not only here but elsewhere as well. And most of all!! I'm excited to finally be able to talk about Sehun comfortably and to my heart’s content again because I am overflowing with so much love for him and my words were always the one thing that I felt was a way to return that sunshine, warmth, and love he gave to me back to him.

Extra piece of info: With all that said, I am still going to be using my Twitter account to talk about other things like random tiny thoughts or tidbits of my life or things I feel I can’t say or don’t want to say on Tumblr. If anyone wants to know what my Twitter account is, you can send me a DM or a message off anon along with your Twitter account and I can let you know! My account is on private right now for some reasons so that's why I’ll need to know who is requesting a follow~ A warning, though: I am quite bitter on there about things regarding fandom and Sehun and my tone will be a lot more blunt not only because there’s not much room to fluff things out but because well... I am quite a bitter person alskdf. senfinity will be a place where I keep things positive and happy for me and everyone who follows me, unless I have something I really want to say that requires my tags or a text post, and so that is why all my little bitternesses and pettiness will be kept to my Twitter account. Not to mention Tumblr quite frankly can’t handle certain things so... If you’re curious what that side of me is like then you can follow me on there~ Don’t be surprised or think I’m two-faced, though orz. The way I talk and feel and the things I say on here are still 100% genuine and 100% me, so while my tone on there will be a 180 from mine on here, it's still all me. Seriously, though, my solo stan side shows a lot more on my Twitter and I am very loud about only caring about Sehun on there and anything that affects him so I hope no one who does end up following me on there holds that against me or thinks I’m some kind of ass. This has been a warning...

The End

#i almost forgot to tag this guys; i am THIS out of practice.. tsk #but anywho this truly is long as hell and i don't expect readers but i always need to lay my thoughts out in a tangible form so here it is #i want to give a general warning that i may not sound like the old senfinity for a bit...#gotta get back into status quo and be myself again //sniffs//#i had to be stan twt for a while

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kmozymoz · 4 years

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Chapter One

I startled awake as the tiny plane touched down on the runway with a labored shudder, the wings shaking against the force of the brakes. It started to slow, and I lifted the shade on the window to look out. Clouds blanketed the sky, but enough light was shining through to glisten off the water in the distance, nestled beneath high mountains. In some ways, it already reminded me of home — covered in pines and surrounded by mountains.

I stepped off the steps onto the runway and headed inside the airport to collect my suitcase. I already had a heavy backpack slung over my shoulder, and I thought again about how I had probably overpacked. But everything I read said it was better to be overprepared than to find myself in a bad situation without items essential to survival.

I moved through the crowds inside the airport to wait at the carousel for my bag. People around me chatted excitedly, discussing their own plans for hikes and sightseeing. Some were dressed like they expected it to be below zero outside at all times, decked out in sweaters and heavy winter coats with matching boots. I wondered how they would feel about those choices in the 50-degree September weather.

I pulled my bag off the carousel, and almost dropped it as I suddenly noticed the tag hanging off the side handle.

Beaufort Sisters’ Grand Adventure 2018

I was mostly pre-occupied with packing my backpack for this trip, and had somewhat blindly tossed things into my suitcase once the backpacking materials were in order. I hadn’t really looked closely at this luggage in almost a year. I had forgotten the tag existed, let alone realized it was still attached to the side.

Eve was so excited to give it to me with my birthday present. She ordered it off one of those crafter websites through a custom order, making sure to get it in our favorite colors — blue and green — and carefully choosing the right balance of fun and tasteful in the font choice. She added an opaque shape of a bear and a tree on the outsides of the script as extras.

I rolled the bag to a seating area and dumped it over on its side, quickly removing the tag and unzipping the bag to shove the tag into a pocket out of sight. Zipping it up again, I moved fast toward the exit and tried to ignore how tight my chest felt.

I got halfway across the parking lot before realizing I needed my rental car. With a frustrated sigh, I turned around and went back to the rental car area inside the airport. There was no line and two tellers open, and I walked up to the man with the friendly smile, which I returned half-heartedly.

“How can I help you today?” he said.

“I have a rental car reservation.”

“Last name?”

“Beaufort,” I said, spelling it for him. “Grace.”

He tapped the keyboard a few times, then looked back up at me. “Do you need to add any other authorized drivers?”

“No. Just me.”

“All right,” he said cheerfully, “I just need your driver’s license please.”

I dug the card out of my wallet and slid it over the counter to him. He picked it up and examined it with focus, then excitement.

“Colorado, huh? I spent some time there one summer in college, what a beautiful state,” he said. “You from Denver?”

“Boulder,” I answered.

“Oh, even better! What brings you up here to our neck of the woods?”

I started to wish I had picked the teller without the friendly smile. “A trip,” I mumbled, pretending to look at something on my phone.

He got the hint and kept typing, then told me what car to look for on the lot and the rest of the relevant information. He handed receipts and other information over to me.

“Welcome to Anchorage, enjoy your stay!”

I nodded and took the keys, and found the parking spot he’d pointed me to. It was a small lot, and the black SUV wasn’t difficult to spot. I loaded up and plugged the hotel address into my phone. It was only about fifteen minutes away, and just enough time to see some of the city before dusk.

I arrived in my room just in time to watch the sun start to dip below the horizon, sending brilliant flares of color splashing across the sky. I specifically requested a top floor room on the west side of the building so I could watch the sunset — tonight, and the last night.

Thirteen sunsets to go.

—

I woke before the sun came up the next morning and took a hot shower, knowing it might be my last good shower for a while. I ran over the contents of my backpack one more time, double-checking for the flashlight, head lamp, snacks and hunting knife. I doubted I would need half of it, but I didn’t want to risk not being able to die on my own terms. I might have deserved to starve to death or get eaten by a bear, but I was too much of a coward to go out that way.

I hauled my things down to the first floor and ate breakfast, then made my way to the lobby area where I was told to meet up with the group. Several people were already gathered there, similarly loaded down with gear and belongings. Two pairs looked to be couples, while three others looked like a group of friends. The couples were probably in their late 30s or early 40s, while the other group looked college age. We all subtly took each other in, trying to read as much as possible without words. We exchanged polite morning greetings, then the groups turned back to each other and glanced around for the tour guide.

Two others joined a few minutes later, and I guessed they were brothers or cousins in their 20s. They looked like the type to take the most difficult trail or climb a sheer mountainside just to prove they could do it without breaking a sweat. Those types could be found in every corner of Colorado.

Soon enough, a van approached the front of the hotel and parked, and a tall, athletic man with salt and pepper hair and a trimmed beard hopped out and came through the front doors. He let out a shout and pumped his fist in the air upon seeing us gathered together.

“This looks like the best group ever, ready for the best adventure ever!” he said, prompting a few smiles. “You’re all here for Alaskan Grand Adventure, right?”

We nodded, and he feigned a huge sense of relief. “I was afraid I’d go to the wrong hotel and take a bunch of people on a really long trip in the woods when they thought they were going on a cruise.”

He introduced himself as Peter, and we followed him out to the van to place our things inside. The morning air bit with an icy edge, and I knew it would be worse in the mountains. Maybe I was wrong to silently mock the people in parkas and sweaters. Small spots of frost dotted the parking lot and patches on the back of the van, which had been scraped to visibility.

We departed on our four-hour trek up to Denali National Park, with Peter narrating the drive. He told us about Anchorage’s history with the railroad and oil discovery, and told us the square mileage of the city alone was equal to the state of Delaware.

As he talked, I took in the landscape rushing by. It was drizzling outside, but that didn’t stop the vibrant colors of fall on the trees — amber and every shade of green imaginable showed up on the trees and shrubs, lush in every acre. Once we left the city limits, it was obvious how much of the state was still mostly untouched in development. It felt limitless, wild, and above all — free.

This is what Eve had looked forward to most. She wanted to see as much of the state as possible over the next ten, fifteen, or twenty years, knowing full well we’d never be able to see it all in a lifetime. That was part of what intrigued her about it; knowing there were parts of Alaska that no living person had probably ever seen before. The place is twice the size of Texas, and much of it isn’t even accessible. But she wanted to try.

On our drive to Seattle for that trip, we stopped at so many places along the way. We passed through Salt Lake City and its surrounding areas, and up into Idaho, where we stopped for trails and odd tourist traps. I still have hundreds of pictures stored in my phone from all of those stops. She wanted to see everything we possibly could in the time we had.

Maybe she knew what was coming.

I dozed off a couple hours into the drive, having not slept much the night before, and when I woke we were almost to the lodge where we would stay for the next three nights while exploring the surrounding park areas.

“Where are you from?” I heard a voice say next to me, and I sat up straighter and looked over. It was a woman, one of the couples, who looked motherly but in a tough love sort of way. She had short blonde hair coiffed neatly a few inches above her head, and she wore dark eyeliner, light pink eyeshadow and red lipstick. She wore outdoor gear that looked brand new, and I wondered if she’d just bought new gear or if this was an uncommon outing for her. If it was the latter, she might be in for a long trip.

“Boulder,” I said. “Colorado.”

“Oh, wonderful!” she said. “We’re from North Carolina. This is much more familiar to you than it is to us. I’m Vicky, by the way.”

I shook her extended hand and smiled. “Grace.”

“How come you’re here all by yourself?” she asked in a drawl. “Shouldn’t you have a fella or a friend with you?”

I felt my expression sour, and Vicky could see it too. “Oh I’m sorry, my big mouth. There’s no shame in seeing this beautiful place with just yourself along!”

“It’s fine,” I said. “I was supposed to come here last year with my sister, but it never happened. So I just came by myself.”

“Good for you. Life is too short to wait on other people. But if you’d like to tag along with Joe and me at any point, he’s my husband over there, you are more than welcome.”

“Thanks.”

We pulled up to the lodge, a huge structure made of light, refined wood and plenty of bay windows on each side. It was a stark image in front of the green-covered mountains behind, which were already tinged with white snow at the tops. But the sky was clear and the air was even more crisp as I climbed out of the van.

Colorado air is generally clean and clear, but something about the air in Alaska felt even more pure. Like it didn’t know what pollution was like, had never experienced such a blight in its atmosphere. I took a deep breath and smelled notes of pine and sage.

Peter explained a few logistics and plans before we headed inside as a group, telling us to meet for dinner later in the kitchen area, where we would meet the rest of our tour guides for the events in the coming days. I walked in, feeling myself momentarily hesitate at the doorway. I wasn’t sure I was ready to do all of this alone.

The floors were a similar light wood, polished to a shine, and the walls were adorned with rustic decorations, including a stuffed moose head on the wall above a grand fireplace that was encased with large, smooth stones. Plush chairs and sofas were positioned around the fireplace, along with cozy-looking blankets and a bookshelf with classic titles like White Fang, The Hatchet and other outdoor-focused or Alaskan novels.

The rooms were dotted along a hallway to the left, and I made my way toward my assigned suite. I hadn’t cared at the time what room I received, so when I opened the door, it was startling to see two queen beds. I imagined it was rare for someone to truly come on this trip alone, so single bed rooms probably were either hard to come by or nonexistent.

The room was a comfortable size, with a window looking out at the crowded mountains in the distance. The comforters on the bed were a dark red with forest green blankets at the foot of the bed. A few scenic pictures adorned the walls, including a bear catching salmon in the middle of a river, and moose in the middle of a marshy expanse. I walked toward the window and saw a trail was situated maybe a quarter mile from the lodge marked by a trailhead sign amid a few tall grasses.

Eve and I once hiked a trail in Fort Collins where we didn’t get any cell reception, and five miles in, we were completely lost. It was a steep trail that was smattered with muddy areas that made it difficult to keep our footing, and dark clouds loomed in the distance, threatening a thunderstorm. I guessed we had taken the wrong fork about a mile back on the trail, but we couldn’t seem to find it again. We half-jokingly blamed each other for the confusion and held each other’s hands through the muddy spots, laughing and yelling out when our feet slipped beneath us.

The thunderstorm reached us just before we found the fork again and started to backtrack, and rain poured down in steady sheets. I tried to pull my jacket up over my head for cover, but gave up after becoming drenched anyway.

We both screamed as thunder boomed overhead and drowned us out. We reached the car at last after at least 20 minutes in the storm, and I fumbled with the keys to the car.

“Hurry up!” Eve had shrieked from the passenger side.

“I’m trying!” I yelled back, and popped the door open. We clambered inside and shut the doors, and immediately started laughing. We both looked awful, with mascara running on our cheeks and hair sloppy and soaking. My shoes were waterproof, but enough water had seeped into my socks that they felt like sponges on my feet.

“You look super attractive right now,” Eve told me.

“You should talk. Take a look.”

I flipped the passenger side mirror down in front of her, and she collapsed into giggles.

Because Eve and I were always hiking trails and going on trips, it wasn’t difficult to convince my mother that I was just going on a trip that I had intended to take with Eve. I told her I knew Eve would have wanted me to go, and that was enough for her to understand. She would worry, but she always worried. She had no real reason to expect anything other than seeing me in a couple months again for winter break.

I covered my tracks as well as I could when it came to school. I hadn’t attended since last fall, right after Thanksgiving, but I managed to get my hands on copies of syllabi through my friends so I could keep up pretenses when my mother asked about school work and progress toward my natural resources degree. I looked up the name of counselors at the university and found one I claimed to be meeting with once a week. She had enough she was dealing with on an emotional level that she didn’t have the space to recognize if I was lying or ask for more details, which was good, because I wasn’t a very good liar when pressed. She also had two other children to focus on.

Growing up, we were a close family, including my father. We often went camping in a small RV that my parents would sleep in while the rest of us slept in a tent outside, staying up until all hours playing card games and eating copious amounts of candy while trying not to bicker too loudly and get in trouble. My two younger siblings, Olivia and Caleb, were often the targets of the bickering with Eve and me. Since Eve and I were only a year and a half apart and Olivia and Caleb were twins four years younger than us, it was often a two-on-two battle with the four of us. The older “We were here first” army against the younger “We shared a womb” force. But there was nothing we wouldn’t do for each other, even if we grumbled about it in the process.

Camping as kids is what sparked Eve and I to take our own adventures in the past four years, once we were on our own and going to the same college. Olivia and Caleb enjoyed camping, but they weren’t as interested in the outdoors in general. They were seniors in high school now, and Olivia planned to study nursing while Caleb wanted to be a web developer. Both of them had bright futures ahead of them, and they were young enough that they could move past losing a sibling. Or two. They had each other, and eventually Mom would be okay too because she had them. They would all be better off in the end.

I wasn’t sure when or if my father would ever know what happened to me. He abruptly left my mother and us for another woman when I was 15, and I hadn’t spoken to him in years. Olivia talked to him occasionally, but as far as I knew, she was the only one who bothered. He sometimes sent birthday cards and Christmas money, but that was it. None of us ever understood exactly how he could leave all of us behind and for the most part not look back. I overheard my mother say “mid-life crisis” a few times to her friends and Aunt Terri, but she made sure all of us understood it wasn’t our fault and she asked counselors at our schools to meet with us and make sure we were doing okay. And we were, because we had my mom. My dad had never really been anything but a buddy to us — she was the rock and glue.

I changed from leggings and a top to jeans and a sweatshirt to look more presentable for dinner, and ran a brush through my hair. In the morning, we would head out on a two-day backpacking excursion into a remote area of Denali, so I sorted through my things and set aside what I wanted to bring in my backpack. As I was strategically stuffing long-sleeved shirts and pants inside, my cellphone started to vibrate on the bed.

I debated for a minute whether I wanted to answer, but picked it up anyway.

“Hi Caleb.”

“Hey!” he greeted, moving from a noisy area to a quieter one. I guessed he was leaving school. “I just wanted to say hi and see how Alaska is so far.”

“It’s good,” I said blandly. “I haven’t been here long, we’ve mostly been driving today. I’m headed down to dinner in a little bit.”

“What’s for dinner?”

“I don’t know,” I said, trying to hide an irritated tone. “Probably salmon or something.”

“Cool.”

He was quiet for a minute, and I raised my brows even though he couldn’t see them. “Did you need something?” I asked.

Finally he let out a soft sigh and dropped the overly friendly tone for a more serious one. “Look, I just wanted to give you a head’s up that Melissa knows you dropped out of school last year.”

I felt a flash of panic, but it quickly dissipated with the thought that it wouldn’t matter in a couple weeks anyway. Melissa was a friend of Mom’s who had a daughter in her first year at the same college Eve and I went to, so I wasn’t surprised that someone eventually found me out. Her daughter, Jenny, had contacted me a few times to see if I could meet for coffee and show her around, and I made up excuses until she stopped asking. I stupidly told her which classes I was supposedly taking this semester, and she must have asked around with people and found out I was lying.

“Well, I’ll just have to deal with the consequences I guess,” I told Caleb. “It could only go on for so long anyway. It’s time to fess up.”

“Melissa will probably call you first is all I’m saying,” he said. “I just didn’t want you to be blindsided.”

Tears pricked at my eyes, but I bit them back. “Thanks, Caleb,” I said as normally as I could. “You’re a good brother.”

“Shut up, sap.” He was quiet again, then asked gently, “How are you, you know, doing with things up there? This whole trip and all.”

“I’m fine,” I answered a little too forcefully. “It’s not a big deal. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“All right, just thought I’d ask.”

I hated this conversation. Every second of it. I hated keeping this secret, knowing I was going to hurt them, even if ultimately I knew it was better for them. He truly was a good brother, and I was going to let him down just like everyone else. I wanted to explain it to him, but I couldn’t find the words that would make him understand.

“I should probably get going,” I said. “Say hi to Olivia for me, okay?”

“Okay, I will. Don’t get eaten by anything out there. Talk to you later.”

“Caleb?”

“What?”

I looked outside momentarily, out at the clouds hanging over the peaks. Knowing this was probably the last time I would ever speak to him.

“I love you, brat.”

“Love you too, jerk. Bye.”

#writing #writers on tumblr #novel #alaska #thelastsunset

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wild-azure · 7 years

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11 Questions

I got tagged by @not-actually-ur-sassygayfriend so here it goes!

Rules:

Copy the rules.

Answer the questions given to you

Create 11 more for the next person to answer; tag 11 people

Questions asked of me:

1. What other languages do you wish you knew? What other countries do you wish you could visit or live in?

That’s two questions Warren ;P But anyway: I wish my Spanish was better, and I wish I knew Italian (because I love the sound of it) and sign language (it’d be practical). I’d like to live in Jamaica for a time and learn about my heritage more, and I’d like to visit England, Spain, and Italy. And Canada! I really want to visit Canada someday! ;P

2. What sport/art do you do for therapy?

I pace sometimes when I’m anxious, and I often put my emotions into my writing. It’s probably why I’m so inconsistent with my writing habits, because I have to wait for the right mood to be upon me sometimes ^^’

3. I’ve been asking this around a lot. What kind of hands do you have? Answer with a short story about a scar, callus, etc.

I like to think I have writer’s hands. They’re quick and nimble on a keyboard. I’m the fastest typer in my family, and if given the right pen or pencil, I take a lot of delight in writing (on a side note, my favorite pen currently is the Precise V5 rolling ball extra fine ink pen, which you can get at Target for like $5 for a pack of 3. They don’t look like much, but they’re beautiful to write with!). As for scars, I have a large scar on my right wrist that’s shaped sort of like a backwards letter “L” written in a bubble font. I’m actually really fond of the scar, and there is a small story behind it. I got it after school on the second-to-last day of fifth grade. A bunch of girls from my girl scout troop were racing in front of the school. I thought I’d be fastest if I ran on the grass. I ended up tripping in a pothole that was hidden under the grass and ended up falling onto the pavement. I scraped that wrist pretty bad, but I thought nothing of it. The scrape though became infected (or nearly infected? It wasn’t healing well and the surrounding skin was all white and puss-y, and the doctor did stress the possibility of infection. All I remember was worrying that my hand was going to be amputated). It eventually healed, but we had to clean it daily including pouring rubbing alcohol over it every night and letting it dry out unbandaged. I hated that part >.<

4. When you get involved with a story, what’s the most important thing to you? (Story? Character development? Setting? etc...)

I’d say description and detail. That can apply to all of those aspects, but I love stories that are so vivid with description that they just leap off the page at you. I like to immerse myself in the story, so the more descriptive and detailed, the better!

5. Boom. You have powers. Are they magic or science? What kind and why?

I was literally just thinking about this 2 days ago! Ok, so I would have the power to make myself look any way I want. My main thought for this is that I can make myself look tough and intimidating if I’m in a situation that would normally make me, a tiny, unimposing girl, feel unsafe and insecure, but let’s face it: I’m pretty much going to use this power to give myself a big, fluffy tail when I’m in the comfort of my own home!

6. Into the Beautiful Grim. It’s a painting by Mike Lim, a.k.a. Daarken. I get a lot of judgy looks when I say it’s one of my favorites before I explain the backstory behind the piece. Short version, it was the centerpiece of an auction to raise money for his wife’s cancer treatment. The woman in the frame is (supposedly?) his wife, and the blue wisps (butterflies? flowers?) are the unknown hopes in the future. Do you have a piece of work that you love and adore but have to explain the backstory to people when you show them?

I can’t really say so, no. :/

7. Look in the mirror or take a selfie. What’s your favorite thing about yourself in this image?

I’ve really started to love my natural hairstyle and my eyebrows within the last couple years. See, my family taught me to hate my hair and my brows because they think my hair is wild and under groomed (it’s not; it’s just really prone to being mussed by the wind, but it has lovely curls and volume) and my eyebrows are too thick (my family is notorious for really thick eyebrows, but they prefer thin eyebrows; I think they’re bold and eye-catching and just need a bit of cleaning around the edges to make them pop more). I’ve just really started to value my own natural features more, and everything I love about myself is something that my family hates.

8. As some people know, I get lost staring in people’s eyes. What color are your eyes, and what kind of story do they tell?

You know what color my eyes are! ;P But for the sake of people who don’t: they’re dark brown, and I like to imagine they tell a story of strength and self-reliance tempered through pain and fear.

9. Do you have a favorite quote? What is it? Does it remind you of a person or place? And would you consider getting a tattoo of it?

“If you are a dreamer come in If you are a dreamer a wisher a liar A hoper a pray-er a magic-bean-buyer If youre a pretender com sit by my fire For we have some flax golden tales to spin Come in! Come in!” - Shel Silverstein

This quote is my favorite. It inspires me and makes me think of imagination and creativity, particularly when it comes to writing. For all that, I don’t think I would ever get a tattoo of it. I’m very reluctant to consider tattooing myself, though I find tattoos to be beautiful and admire them on others.

10. Go tell somebody who’s made a difference in your life that you love them. Post their response.

He’s my boyfriend, so of course he said he loves me back ;P

11. This might be feeding my ego, and you can just send an answer to me in an ask instead. What’s your favorite interaction with me or with somebody else here on this website?

I really loved all the times we went out together back in senior year. You helped me keep going at some of my lowest times.

My Questions for Others:

1. They say there’s two sides to every story, so what’s your side of the story of how we met?

2. What’s the most useful life hack that you’ve ever come across?

3. If you could make one fictional character real, who would you choose and why?

4. What song are you currently or most recently obsessed with? Bonus: what song makes you think of your OTP?

5. What is your favorite kind of weather? Why?

6. Brag a little! What’s an achievement you’re proud of?

7. What do you think is your best quality? What’s one quality you wish you could improve?

8. What’s the kindest thing someone’s ever done for you?

9. Think about the best fictional villain you’ve ever seen. What made them the best at being a villain?

10. Pick one of the questions I answered above to answer yourself!

11. Pick one of the questions I asked to ask me!

I tag:

@blackwaterbbq, @arianwen44, @blissfullyintoxicated, @not-actually-ur-sassygayfriend (yes I know you tagged me to begin with, so you don’t have to come up with more questions or tag anyone else ;P), and anyone else who would like to answer my questions!

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sambashua · 7 years

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92 questions/random questions/8 things tag~

hello friends !!! i’ve done the first two tags before but it’s been quite a while so ?? let’s see if i can come up w new responses i guess?? also these all have similar-ish questions so i thought i’d combine them so i don’t clog up everyone’s dashes~

tagged by (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ(ilya so dang much my favorite muffins)

92 questions: mariel! @jaehyunscult kelby! @yooncheoly and claudia! @s-lay-ing

random questions: kolbo! @yooncheoly ommo! @strawberryboo and cloodoo! @s-lay-ing

eight things: em! @seoulscapes mj! @jungnoir and kat! @atshinee

i’m going to tag @everyonesabiaswrecker @hoshi-ssi @king-hao @moonhyook @taeismyking @honestlay @yoonsunha @amessence @kylamassie1 @peachesandkili and also the beans who tagged me above!! you can do one of the ones you didn’t tag me in hehe(≧◡≦)

you guys can choose whichever tags you want!! or all of them ? idk it’s basically either long, easy or creative so whatever you feel like doing… or do none of them!! that works too! if you don’t want to be tagged just let me knowwww also you rlly don’t have to read this whole thing it is so damn long… but w/o further ado…

92 questions

the last…

1. drink: water

2. phone call: my grandma !

3. text message: “THEBOP OF THE SUMMER” (sic)

4. song you listened to: ‘love paint (every afternoon)’ by NU’EST started playing before i got out of the car last night… WAIT I JUST REMEMBERED I WATCHED MX’S NEWTON THIS MORNING OH MY GOD THE BOP OF THE SUMMER THAT’S WHAT THE TEXT WAS ABT BTW

5. time you cried: hmmmm not monsta x surprisingly ? but we have some rlly spicy food in LA and @everyonesabiaswrecker @taeismyking and i had to hide our eyes from the waiter lol

have you ever…

6. dated someone twice: nooo (as i said last time i’ve never dated so these are all no’s so you can skip around a bit i suppose)

7. been cheated on: nooo

8. kissed someone and regretted it: nooo

9. lost someone special: yea

10. been depressed: nope

11. gotten drunk and thrown up: drinking makes ya do bad stuff kids

list three favorite colors (12-15)…

grey, light blue nd light green !

in the last year have you…

15. made new friends: yeAH SO MANY! irl and online i’m so thankful for everyone i’ve met~~ since i started uni i was rlly nervous abt meeting people and although i have one (1) new friend irl (shoutout to my main main main kat @atshinee literally where would i be w/o you i probably woulda gotten stuck at camp bc of the hail storm) i’ve met countless lovely individuals online that i am forever grateful for;;; now i’m being all sappy someoNE STOP ME

16. fallen out of love: nooo

17. laughed until you cried: almost everyday~~

18. found out someone was talking about you: oh yea

19. met someone who changed you: YES

20. found out who your true friends are: yeah!

21. kissed someone on your facebook list: nooooooooooooooope

general stuff

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: idk like probably actually 80% but they’re not people i talk to now ? (kat still yells at me abt my answer last time)

23. do you have any pets: I GOT TWO CATS TOM TOM AND MYSTERY THEY ARE ADORABLE BEANS ND I LIKE TO BRAG ABT THEM SO ASK ME FOR PICS

24. do you want to change your name: i like my name a lot tbh (there’s so many endless nickname possibilities honestly)

25. what did you do for your last birthday: i got gelato w two of my closest frandssss and also listened to nct dream like the whole day it was the best

26. what time did you wake up: um m m i think 9? yesterday i went to bed at 3:30 and woke up at 7:30 so i slept in more today lol

27. what were you doing at midnight last night: trying to read a soonhoon fic from eep and messaging ivy:D

28. name something you cannot wait for: uM IDK EVERYTHING I WAS WAITING FOR ALREADY HAPPENED i guess just moving back to school and starting classes??? i’m so anxious ugh

29. when was the last time you saw your mom: 4 ? hours ago ?

30. what is one thing you wish you could change about your life: um idk i think i’m pretty blessed to be completely honest

31. what are you listening to right now: there’s construction going on in the distance idk what they’re doing but it is LOUD

32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: i’m so shook people haven’t talked to any toms i’ve met so many i don’t undeRSTAND

33. something that is getting on your nerves: ignorance *finger guns*

34. most visited website: tumblr (i haven’t been on youtube much lately cry)

35. elementary school: yeahhh

36. high school: yeahhh

37. college: yeahhh

38. hair color: blonde

39. long or short hair: it’s so long rn i’m constantly choking on it

40. do you have a crush on someone: crushes are for noobs

41. what do you like about yourself: “everything, love yourself.” -kat

42. piercings: ears but i never wear them

43. blood type: idk my parents are both AB so my mom says we’re that too but mom that’s not how genetics work

44. nickname: i have so many but my most common one is mir~ i answer to anything tho

45. relationship status: engaged to jeon wonwoo

46. zodiac sign: cancer~

47. pronouns: she/her

48. favorite tv show: game of thrones or below deck (watch it it’s a reality show abt a yacht crew it’s so entertaining)

49. tattoos: nope i’m too indecisive

50. righty or lefty: right

first…

51. surgery: i had surgery junior year of high school

52. piercing: did they not already ask this oh jk this is first well i still only have ears

53. best friend: in the womb bitchhh (-8 months would be the official age)

54. sport: i think karate ? my dad is super sporty tho so sister and i tried every sport known to man

55. vacation: probably washington bc i have a lot of family there

56. pair of sneakers: literally who knows this tho

right now…

57. eating: nothing

58. drinking: now i’m drinking tea

59. i’m about to: eat a bagel maybe

60. listening to: good luck by aoa (yessss my girls)

61. waiting for: jordyn to get off work so i can see her new dorm:D

62. do you want kids: i always have

63. do you want to get married: i don’t really know marriage seems so outdated…

64: what career do you want: journalist (yay)

which is better…

65. hugs or kisses: hugs!

66. lips or eyes: eyes!

67. shorter or taller: i don’t have much preference but i’m tall and i like being tall

68. older or younger: i don’t really care bc some older people are really immature and some younger people are really mature so~

70. nice arms or nice stomach: i really really don’t care

71. sensitive or loud: these honestly aren’t even antonyms

72. hook up or relationship: relationship

73. troublemaker or hesitant: i’ve never been a troublemaker so ?

have you ever…

74. kissed a stranger: nooo

75. drank hard liquor: neh ?

76. lost glasses/lenses: i have above average vision boiiiii

77. turned someone down: i mean;;;; i think most people have at least indirectly

78. had sex on the first date: nooo

79. broken someone’s heart: i really doubt it lol

80. had your heart broken: jeon wonwoo breaks my heart daily

81. been arrested: nooo

82. cried when someone died: yeahh

83. fallen for a friend: no

do you believe in…

84. yourself: YEAH I GOT THIS! YOU GOT THIS! WE ALL GOT THIS!

85. miracles: maybe ?

86. love at first sight: not even a little bit

87. santa claus:

LOOK AT SOONYOUNG I’M LAUGHING

88. kiss on the first date: i mean i don’t see why not

89. angels: maybe ?

other…

90. current best friends name: sister n em n kat n cass n jords n val :3

91. eye color: grey ish

92. favorite movie: the proposal was my favorite movie for so long;;; i liked moonlight a lot too go see it

random questions

dude i fucking forgot abt this one i thought i was done fuck (why is this font so tiny)

relationship status: single for 19 years bishhhhhhhh favorite color: grey!! but i’ve been feelin orange lately hmmmm lipstick or chapstick: i like tinted lip balm:) but i even use vaseline sometimes try it okay it makes yo lips so soft last song you listened to: well i already said so i’ll do what’s stuck in my head rn: coffee by bts (it’s so good i get such calming vibes from it) last movie you watched: BABY DRIVER it was so ffffff good 100/10 would rec~ the car chases were so cool dude also ansel elgort is such a cutie top 3 characters: i’ll as april ludgate from parks n rec (are you happy jords), celaena from throne of glass, ndddd risa koizumi from lovcom:) top 3 ships: jejun ! soonwoo ! MARKHYUCK(ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ books you are currently reading: rnnnn i’m STILL reading heir of fire (don’t worry cass i will finish it in time) top 5 musicals: mulan is endlessly iconic okay, hsm, phantom of the opera, the sound of music nd mama mia !

eight things

last movie watched: baby driver hoo hoo last song listened to: me gustas tu bitchhhhh last book read: Crown of Midnight still oops sorry cass i’m so damn slow these days last thing eaten: fig newtons (buy newton by monsta x on itunes) if you could be anywhere right now, where would you be: wherever @atshinee is because i want to support her for her test but i know i would probably just distract her:(((((( a fictional character you would hang out with for the day: probably dorian from throne of glass bc he just seems like such a lovable dork i want to give him a big ole hug he needs it what fictional world/universe would you want to spend a week in: i used to be obsessed w the series Gregor the Overlander as a kid and i’d really want to spend a day there that would be so awesome esp the one where they travel through the one rainforest jungle… but also Harry Potter bc i rlly want to go to hogwarts and just;;; look around? it’s so pretty and i want to see all the paintings and staircases and the people it’d be great last video game played: i’ve never rlly played video games… i used to play the sims does that count rip

well it’s finally frickin done i doubt anyone bared w me for this trainwreck…….. i’m so tired now will i even do more of these today jk i gotta i am so behind but no selfie tags i look trash

#tagged #bye #this was so long #time to sleep #jk #i'm not that tired #just ded #thank you guys for tagging me!!!#i think that was everyone???#some of those are a bit old rip #who even read this like wow that's dedication #it's like;;; not even rly funny either so rip #only do this if you want to ofc!!#cries bc the random qs was the first tag jen bean tagged me in:(((#mir moos

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