#winter specia

[pastelitey]

Solidaritek: Keep You Warm

It's the holidays and between Christmas parties with friends and working through the painfully slow process of moving in together, Jimmy is finally ready to say "I love you" to Tango for the first time. If only he could find the right moment to do it. word count: 6811 pairings: Jimmy/Tango, Implied!Grian/Scar tags: Modern AU, Christmas, Christmas party, Mistletoe, Domestic fluff [ao3 link]

When the holidays arrive, Jimmy and Tango are in the middle of moving in together. They’re eagerly waiting for Tango’s lease to be up in January, and have been steadily moving things from his apartment to Jimmy’s in the meantime. The living room is filled with more moving boxes than Christmas decorations at this point, but neither of them are complaining. With every passing day it becomes more real that they’re actually doing this, that after a certain point Tango will stop ‘spending the night’ and will actually start to call Jimmy’s space his own. It makes Jimmy a little dizzy when he thinks about it.

Jimmy gets home a little after five o’clock on Christmas Eve and immediately gets to work. He pulls ingredients out of the fridge and the cupboards to make soup. While he’s never considered himself a great cook, when compared with Tango’s abilities, he looks like he belongs in a professional kitchen somewhere in Paris. So he ends up cooking most days, but he really doesn’t mind.

While he waits for the stock to heat up on the stove he begins rearranging the boxes in the living room, something he really should have done earlier. Some of Tango’s stuff is already interspersed with Jimmy’s within the apartment, but the majority of it is still stuffed into cardboard boxes to be taken care of at a later date. Tango keeps assuring Jimmy that he’ll get around to it eventually, but every time he comes over to get started on it he ends up distracted by something or other.

As Jimmy’s stirring all the ingredients together in the pot he hears keys jangle in the door. It brings a smile to his face, reminding him of the day not so long ago when he’d given Tango the spare key. Tango’s grin at that moment was like a million suns shining all at once, and Jimmy never wanted to look away.

Tango enters the apartment like he always does; in a whirlwind. He’s muttering something under his breath, keys jangling violently before he throws them on the counter. Jimmy looks over his shoulder, smiling fondly at the man as he kicks the door closed, arms filled with a comically oversized paper grocery bag. He kicks off his shoes and when he sees Jimmy looking, greets him with a smile that never fails to take Jimmy’s breath away.

“Hi, Jim!” Tango says chipperly. He sets the paper bag down on the counter and races around the island to greet him properly, with a kiss. Jimmy steps away from the burner right before Tango barrels into him, latching onto him and kissing the corner of Jimmy’s mouth.

Jimmy’s heart swells as Tango pulls away, arms still wrapped around him. “Hi,” he says back, eyes raking over Tango now that he’s up close. He’s wearing his puffy winter coat that Jimmy always jokes makes him look like a penguin, complete with a fine layer of snow dusted across his shoulders. His nose and cheeks are tinged red from the cold, making him look all the more cuddly. And to top it all off, he’s wearing the terrible beanie Jimmy crocheted for him during his phase of thinking crochet was his new big thing. Needless to say, it absolutely was not, but Tango still wears the black and red beanie religiously.

Jimmy’s heart swells and he wants to say it, to tell Tango right now about the feelings that he’s finally accepted. But Tango pulls away as quickly as he sprang into Jimmy’s arms, and the chance is lost. But that’s okay, Jimmy decides, because when he couldn’t sleep the other night because of it he came to the conclusion that when he was going to tell Tango it needed to be during a special moment. And while practically every moment with Tango is special, Jimmy wants to be able to look back on it fondly instead of cringing at his past self for saying it in the middle of the kitchen.

“Let me take my stuff off and then I’ll help you!” Tango says, already unzipping his coat as he prances towards the bedroom. Jimmy smiles, watching him as he goes, before turning back to the pot on the stove. He’s still smiling to himself like a fool, replaying the moment where he almost said it over and over.

Tango reappears a minute later once his layers have been shucked off, dressed in a simple red sweater and the cargo pants he’s determined are still in good shape. Jimmy puts the lid over the pot and follows Tango over to the island where the paper bag sits.

“Did you get the bread?” Jimmy asks, peering into the contents of the bag. It’s snatched out of view almost immediately by a wide-eyed Tango, who rifles through it and pulls out a smaller, plastic bag. He shoves it behind his back with a cheshire grin, replacing the paper bag on the counter.

“I haven’t wrapped your present yet!” Tango explains, inching his way back towards the bedroom, positioned so that Jimmy can’t see behind him. Once close enough, he dashes into the room, certainly to hide the gift out of sight. Jimmy rolls his eyes fondly and turns back to the paper bag, head swimming with adoration for the man.

They eat their dinner and talk about their days with that yuletide log youtube video looping in the background. Tango got off work early to do some last-minute shopping for his secret santa gift for tomorrow, which Jimmy has been on his case for for the past two weeks. He’s sympathetic when Tango describes how busy the shops were, but ultimately it was worth it when Tango found the perfect item for his secret santa. Although they’ve agreed to keep their secret santa’s identities secret, Jimmy is fairly certain that Tango’s is Grian, based solely off of the fact that it took him so long to even come up with an idea for what to get them.

When their dinner is finished, Tango makes them hot chocolate(one of the only things Jimmy trusts Tango not to burn) and they settle on the couch to watch a cheesy Christmas movie Jimmy loved when he was a kid. The entire time they’re watching he keeps assuring Tango it was better when he was ten years old, which only makes the other man cackle and curl into Jimmy’s side even more. It’s moments like these that are so immensely precious to Jimmy, and he knows he wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.

When the movie is over Jimmy decides it’s time for bed. Tango wants to stay up but Jimmy can see the dark circles growing under his eyes and forces him into some pajamas so they can get to sleep. Most of Tango’s pajamas consist of Jimmy’s casual clothes, which he really doesn’t mind, especially since he likes seeing Tango in his things.

They tuck themselves into bed and even though the bed is big enough for them both to sleep comfortably on their own sides, Tango always insists on curling up to Jimmy like a clingy cat. Jimmy watches the snow fall outside through the window as Tango gets comfy, running his hand absentmindedly through Tango’s hair as he begins to still on top of Jimmy’s chest.

“G’night,” Tango says, his voice rumbly against Jimmy’s diaphragm.

Jimmy smiles, pressing a kiss against Tango’s head as best he can at the awkward angle. “Goodnight.” Another set of words hang on the edge of Jimmy’s tongue, ready to catapult themselves into the space between the two of them and possibly disrupt everything. Maybe right now, curled up in bed with Tango’s head on Jimmy’s chest on Christmas Eve, it would be the perfect time to say it. Years down the line they could reminisce on Jimmy’s perfect timing and laugh fondly about it.

But he takes too long to think about it and Tango is already out like a light, snoring softly. Jimmy shakes his head affectionately at the other man, pulling him closer and closing his eyes, thinking I love you as sleep whisks him away.

~ ~ ~

When the morning arrives and Jimmy wakes up, it’s to the early morning winter light filtering in through the window and to the smell of something delicious wafting in through the open bedroom door. Jimmy stretches his arms as he registers Tango is not in bed, and begins wondering what Tango is up to in the kitchen. He doesn’t smell anything burning yet, so there’s still hope.

When he peels himself out of the warm bed, he puts on his bunny slippers(a gift from Tango once the weather started turning) and carefully makes his way to the kitchen. He tries to make his steps as loud as possible, knowing how easily Tango can startle when he’s focused on something. Thankfully as soon as he rounds the corner Tango is greeting him with that gorgeous smile of his and some sort of frosting or food coloring on his face.

“Morning!” Tango greets cheerfully. “I’m making pancakes!”

Jimmy hums softly, walking over and surveying the accumulating mess on the counters and stovetop. “So that’s what I could smell.” He plants a kiss on Tango’s cheek, nuzzling into him and enjoying his warmth.

“Don’t worry, I have the stove turned down so I don’t burn them this time.” Tango flips an artificially colored green pancake onto the only Christmas themed plate Jimmy owns, holding it up to Jimmy. “Look, Christmas trees!”

Jimmy looks down at the unfortunately shaped blob that kind of resembles a tree, more in color than shape. Jimmy can’t help but crack a smile, but manages to hold back a laugh.

“Is that what it’s supposed to be?”

Tango rolls his eyes. “Uh, yeah! I also made some in the shape of stockings, but they look more like candy canes, just without the stripes.” He dances off to the island with the plate in hand, where he adds the Christmas tree pancake to a growing pile of the breakfast treats. Jimmy has to admit that Tango is decent at making pancakes, for whatever reason. Even if he makes a mess of the kitchen while doing so, Jimmy has no reservations against allowing Tango to take the reins when he decides he wants pancakes.

He turns off the burner when Tango forgets to and they clean up the mess of pancake batter and food dye together. Tango makes Jimmy admire his pancake creations before they eat them, and Jimmy has to give praise to each individual pancake before they can even take the syrup out of the cupboard. It’s worth it, in the end, when Tango kisses Jimmy as a little prize and Jimmy feels like he’s floating.

He wipes the pancake batter and flour off of Tango’s chin after some resistance and he feels the words rise up in his throat again, but manages to keep them down.

After they eat their Christmas themed pancakes, Jimmy has to brush his teeth feverishly to get some of the food dye off, and then after that it’s time for presents.

Jimmy is quite proud of his present for Tango. He’d been planning it for a while, as he first saw Tango ogling it through a shop window back at the beginning of September. It’s a multi-tool kit with lots of bits and bobs that Jimmy is sure would come in handy with some of Tango’s projects that he likes to work on. He even made sure he got the red one, Tango’s favorite color. He bought one of those little gift boxes people usually put jewelry in with a little custom tag and he even googled a calligraphy website to put Tango’s name on it and make it extra special.

It’s all worth it, too, because when Tango opens the box he practically starts bouncing off the walls. Jimmy’s face is peppered with kisses and he gets to hear Tango’s little ramblings about how much he loves it, which makes Jimmy only grow more affectionate for him. Thankfully before he can even start to consider telling Tango the thing he’s been dying to tell him, Tango is shoving his gift into Jimmy’s lap.

Giddy, Jimmy opens the gift bag and pulls out an immense amount of tissue paper. At the bottom of the bag, wrapped in one last layer of tissue paper, is a fuzzy, blue and red sweater. Jimmy smiles as he holds it up, but the smile disappears once he sees what’s on the front of it.

“It’s Captain America!” Tango says, snickering to himself.

Jimmy gives Tango an unimpressed look. “I can see that.”

As Tango begins laughing, Jimmy just shakes his head affectionately. It really is a nice sweater, save for the tacky image of the patriotic superhero that’s stuck to the front of it. He begins wondering if he can use a pair of scissors or something to take it off, but then Tango might be upset, so he better not.

“Did you just buy this for me so you can steal it from me?” Jimmy asks with a raised eyebrow. Tango knows that Jimmy loves his sweaters, but Jimmy knows that Tango loves to steal said sweaters.

Tango, looking quite pleased with himself, shakes his head. “No, actually.��� He pulls something out from behind his back, and soon Jimmy is gaping at the red and yellow sweater displayed before him. “I got a matching one for myself!”

Tango’s sweater has Iron Man plastered on the middle of it instead of Captain America, but the pattern is the same. Jimmy puts his head in his hands as Tango laughs, but at least he’s enjoying himself.

“I can’t believe you,” Jimmy says, face flushing a deep red color. He never should have told Tango about the Captain America knock-off avatar he used for all the old games he used to play.

“I figured we could wear them to the party, so everyone knows we came together!” Tango explains with a grin, already pulling his sweater over top of his pajama shirt.

Jimmy pouts at Tango goodnaturedly. “Everyone already knows we’re coming together.”

“Please?” Tango says, leaning close with his hands clasped in front of him.

Jimmy looks over his sweater one last time and rolls his eyes. “Of course I’m going to wear it.” He gives Tango a quick peck on the lips, holding the sweater close to his chest. “Thank you.”

It hadn’t been what he was expecting, but it really is sweet. Jimmy could care less about the worth or practicality of whatever gift he received, all that mattered to Jimmy was the thought behind it. And yeah, it would certainly be embarrassing to wear to the Christmas party, but at least Tango would be wearing a matching one beside him.

And just the thought of matching with Tango—visually showing off to all their friends that they’re together—makes Jimmy happier than ever.

~ ~ ~

Thanks to the terrible traffic and the winter roads, Jimmy and Tango end up being some of the last few people to arrive at the party. After finding a parking spot, Jimmy carries the sweet potato casserole he cooked up while Tango’s in charge of carrying the secret santa gifts. The sun is already going down as they approach the front door, warm lighting emanating from the windows of Grian’s home. Thankfully the walkway has been cleared so they make it to the front door in one piece.

Just as Jimmy raises a hand to knock on the door, it swings open and someone plucks the glass pan right out of his arms. “Thank you!” Grian cheers with a devilish grin, before slamming the door on them. Jimmy takes a second to comprehend what just happened as he hears Grian shout about the arrival of the sweet potatoes followed by hearty laughter from the other partygoers.

“Did he just do what I think he just did?” Tango says, giggling despite Jimmy’s unimpressed expression.

“He did,” Jimmy grits out. He knocks on the door properly this time, despite not hearing Grian lock it behind himself. Jimmy imagines Grian must be getting a kick out of himself right now.

When the door opens the second time, Scar is standing in the doorway. “Well hello there! Glad to see you two could finally make it!” He ushers them inside the warm house and Jimmy is immediately overwhelmed by the smell of good food ruminating throughout the place.

“Thanks for letting us in!” Jimmy says with a shake of his head, pulling off his coat before helping Tango to do the same.

“Not a problem!” Scar says with an easy smile. Jimmy feels slightly less silly about what he and Tango are wearing when he sees the obnoxiously bright Christmas cat sweater Scar is currently donning, complete with little blinking lights and golden pom-poms. He looks like a walking Christmas tree that someone’s got their cat stuck in.

“Where’s the gift table?” Tango asks, spinning around as they survey the unfolding festivities. It seems like everyone else has arrived already, with Cleo, Ren and Martyn gossiping on one end of the couch, Gem and Bdubs fighting over control of the speaker and what Christmas song to play, Joel and Lizzie splayed out on the carpet and playing with the dog—wait, whose dog is that?—and even more voices coming from the kitchen.

“Gift table is in the dining room, I can take them for—Oh. My. Gosh.” Scar’s jaw drops and his eyes physically light up, and it takes Jimmy a second to register what’s going on. “Are those Marvel Christmas sweaters I see?”

Tango beams with pride. “Mm-hm! Check them out!”

Jimmy tries not to die of embarrassment as Scar oohs and ahs at their sweaters. Tango, on the other hand, seems very pleased with himself and is currently getting a kick out of how red Jimmy’s face is right now.

“Those are absolutely amayzin’!” Scar’s grin quickly melts into a pout. “I wish Grian would have done matching sweaters with me.”

“Speaking of Grian!” Jimmy says, peeking around Scar and towards the kitchen. “I need to figure out what he did with our potatoes!” He ducks around Scar but when he turns to ask Tango if he’s coming, Scar already has an arm slung around his shoulder and is pestering him about his favorite Iron Man movie. He decides to leave Tango to it as payback for making them wear the ridiculous sweaters in the first place. Tango should have known Scar was going to lose his mind over them.

Unlike Jimmy’s apartment, Grian’s house is decorated head-to-toe with Christmas paraphernalia. There’s a tree set up in practically every room, festive wall hangings strung about and those little Christmas village figurines decorating every available surface. Jimmy makes sure to keep an eye above him every time he passes under a doorway just in case Grian decided to break out the mistletoe again.

For every single holiday season that Jimmy has known Grian, he’s always thrown parties for them and their friends to celebrate. And Grian, being the cheeky little prankster he is, used to hang up a fake mistletoe in a random doorway and not tell people about it until two people were under it. He loved watching everyone awkwardly dart around it the whole time and calling people out if they wound up under it with another person, to everyone else’s dismay. But the fun came to an end when last year Grian and Scar wound up under it and he immediately ripped it off and declared there would be ‘no more mistletoe’. So even though Jimmy has no idea if Grian put it back up this year, he’s going to keep being cautious about it.

When Jimmy gets to the kitchen it’s bustling with activity. Skizz and BigB are at the counter sneaking popcorn and chocolates out of the treat bowls while Impulse tries to fend them off, claiming they’ll ‘ruin their appetites’, while Pearl and Mumbo are helping Grian get everything set up for dinner.

Mumbo is the first to spot Jimmy, greeting him with a smile. “Jimmy! Welcome in, bud.”

“Hi Jimmy!” Pearl says, running from one end of the kitchen to the other with a steaming tray in hand.

Grian narrows his gaze at Jimmy from over his shoulder. “Alright, who let this guy in?”

“You invited me,” Jimmy says, planting his hands on his hips. “Now what have you done with my potatoes?”

“Oh, are those yours?” Mumbo says, looking down at the exact dish Jimmy just had stolen from him two minutes ago. “I was wondering where they came from.”

Jimmy huffs. “He just took my potatoes and left me on the doorstep, shivering in the cold!”

Pearl gasps, affronted. “Grian, how could you do that to poor Jimmy?”

“You can’t just make off with someone else’s potatoes, G,” Mumbo says, shaking his head.

Grian rolls his eyes as he dusts off his hands. “I did nothing of the sort—what on earth are you wearing?”

All eyes turn to Jimmy and he feels the room gets ten times warmer.

“That’s… definitely something,” Mumbo says.

Jimmy crosses his arms against his chest, attempting to hide the decal of Captain America. “It’s just a sweater, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Tango’s got a matching one.” Jimmy spins around to see Joel standing just behind him, looking smug as he eats directly from a bag of chex cereal.

“Joel!” Pearl cries, snatching the bag of cereal out of his hands. “Those are for the muddy buddies!”

Grian starts giggling which only makes Jimmy’s face heat up even more. “Oh, this I’ve got to see!” He darts out of the kitchen before Jimmy can stop him, telling Pearl to keep an eye on the oven for him.

“Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing,” Jimmy says, hiding his face behind his hands.

Mumbo pats him on the shoulder. “Cheer up, mate! You should have seen the sweater Scar tried to get Grian to wear.” That does not make Jimmy feel any better, seeing as Grian isn’t wearing the silly sweater but Jimmy is.

Despite the fact that Jimmy is wearing the sweater for Tango, he still feels properly flustered about it, especially upon seeing everyone else’s reaction to it.

Impulse walks into the kitchen balancing multiple different bowls of snacks, probably to get them away from Skizz and BigB. He lights up when he sees Jimmy’s sweater. “Hey, I’m glad I’m not the only one who wore a silly Christmas sweater!” Impulse’s is a more classic Christmas sweater, complete with Santa’s sleigh and the eight reindeer, but it’s not nearly as absurd as Jimmy’s.

Joel snickers and Jimmy has half a mind to slap his hand over his friend’s mouth. “You should see the one Tango’s got on, Impulse.”

“Oh?” Impulse says, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“What’s Top wearing?” Skizz asks, popping his head into the kitchen.

“Joel!” Jimmy groans as the two dart off, surely to find Tango so they can pick on Jimmy even more. Jimmy turns and glowers at Joel, who just shrugs in response. “You are the absolute worst.”

Joel grabs a chocolate out of the snack bowl Impulse has newly relocated. “You make it too easy, sometimes, Jim.” Jimmy tries to pretend he’s not listening by watching Pearl stir the soup on top of the stove. “You must really love him if you’re willing to wear that stupid sweater for him.”

Jimmy stiffens up at that. Out of all the things Joel could have said, why that? He can’t have known about Jimmy’s internal struggle with that exact word, right?

Jimmy just deflects from Joel’s statement and attempts to busy himself by helping with the dinner preparations, deciding that it’s going to be a long night.

~ ~ ~

Once everyone else has gotten over the hysterics of Jimmy and Tango’s matching sweaters, the party goes pretty smoothly. They have dinner and there’s barely enough room for them all at the table because of how much food there is, and because Grian’s table was certainly not meant for so many people to be eating at. But it’s nice and cozy even when they’re all squished up next to each other. Jimmy’s sweet potatoes seem to be a big hit, even if Joel and Grian keep denying that they were Jimmy’s doing.

After that it’s time for secret santa presents and Jimmy sits on one end of the couch with Tango pressed into his side. He hadn’t expected it to take so long to go around the circle and dish out all the presents, but considering how many of them were involved in it, he decides that he should have seen it coming. Gem gifts Jimmy an adorable cat calendar and Ren seems to be a big fan of the retro aviators that Jimmy thrifted for him. And Jimmy was correct in assuming Tango had Grian, and Grian’s reaction to the gag gift is absolutely priceless.

There’s a bit of downtime before the next activity wherein Impulse and Skizz attempt to convince Jimmy to come play hockey with them. Normally Jimmy would be happy to come along to an activity with some of Tango’s friends, but he’s seen how these guys play hockey, and it’s no joke. Jimmy came along to watch one of Tango’s last games and he swears he’s never seen the three friends ever get so competitive. But he has to admit, Tango does look good when he plays. Really good. So maybe it’s not a good idea for him to join them, he might just get too distracted by his boyfriend and make them lose the game.

“What were you guys talking about?” Tango asks as he rejoins Jimmy a few minutes later, holding two glasses of sparkling cider. He offers one to Jimmy who takes it gratefully and tries not to get lost in Tango’s eyes before he can answer his question.

Jimmy shrugs and raises his glass. “Oh, nothing. They just were trying to get me to join you guys at hockey.”

Tango’s eyes light up and Jimmy already knows he’s a doomed man. “Oh, Jimmy! You totally should, it would be so much fun!”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “I dunno, Tango, I don’t think I’m a hockey guy.” It’s true, but it’s also because his infatuation with Tango will be a huge detriment to the both of them. And he’d never hear the end of it from Tango and their friends if something like that happened while they were on the ice.

“Timmy playing hockey? Now I’d like to see that!” Martyn chuckles as he walks by, a plate of apple pie in hand.

“Martyn’s just jealous ‘cause you’d beat him,” Tango says, voice lowered as he snakes a hand up Jimmy’s chest. Jimmy’s head goes fuzzy as he feels those words dancing on the tip of his tongue again.

Martyn blows a raspberry as he walks away to join a conversation with Scott. “Not a chance, Captain!”

“Get a room, you two,” Scott says with a self-satisfied smirk. Jimmy shakes his head as Tango pulls away from him, frowning. They both know it’s only playful joking, but sometimes it is bothersome when their friends ruin a moment.

Jimmy pats Tango’s shoulder. “How about some apple pie, huh?”

The glimmer returns to Tango’s expression. “Ooh, yes please!”

“Be right back!” Jimmy hands his glass to Tango and makes his way to the kitchen, passing by Cleo and Etho who are cooing over the dog in Pearl’s arms—must be Pearl’s dog, then. Lizzie and Joel are in the kitchen already, sampling the different desserts that have been provided. Jimmy keeps his eyes for the apple pie that he’d seen on Martyn’s plate, only he doesn’t spot it amongst the puddings and plates of cookies.

“Right, who ate all the apple pie?” Jimmy says, going as far as to open the fridge to check for it.

Lizzie looks around with her lips pressed into a thin line. “It looks like it disappeared! I think we need a real hero to figure out who took it!”

Jimmy shakes his head. “Right.” He grabs two paper plates and puts a cookie on each of them, making his way back out to the living room to Tango, only to find everyone grouped up and laughing about something. Jimmy almost wonders if he’s going to find out he’s the butt of another joke, until he realizes that Grian seems to be at the middle of all the fun.

When Jimmy gets up to the clumping of people, he finally gets a look at what they’re all laughing about. Grian’s face is just about as red as the fuzzy sweater he’s suddenly sporting, complete with little photorealistic cats decorating a Christmas tree with working, blinking lights. Scar stands just off to the side in his similar sweater, absolutely beaming.

“Aw, Grian!” Jimmy coos, “you look so cute!”

Grian crosses his arms across his chest, possibly to hide the ugly sweater. “This is all your fault, Tim!”

Scar slides an arm around Grian’s shoulder so that they’re side by side and their sweaters can be admired as they were meant to be—together. “Don’t we look wonderful, Grian? I’m so glad you finally agreed to wear the sweater!”

“Oh, me too!” Pearl says, brandishing her phone and snapping plenty of pictures. Grian tries to grab the phone out of her grasp but she dances away in time, and so begins a stand-off between the two. Jimmy steps away from the chaos, desperately attempting not to drop the frosted cookies onto the nice, clean carpet.

“Told you it wouldn’t be so bad.” Tango takes one of the plates from Jimmy and smiles up at him before taking a bite, keeping eye contact with Jimmy the whole time.

Jimmy wraps an arm around Tango’s side and pulls him close, all the while watching Grian try to unlock Pearl’s phone to distract himself from saying something prematurely. “I guess not.”

It was worth wearing the silly Captain America sweater to see Grian get his own comeuppance, but that doesn’t matter to Jimmy in the long run. It’s making Tango happy, so what’s the harm there?

~ ~ ~

When the party begins fizzling out and people start heading home for the night, Jimmy and Tango offer to stay behind and help clean up. Jimmy doesn’t really mind all that much, and it seems like Grian appreciates the help.

“This thing is so itchy,” Grian complains, scratching at his arms and sides through his sweater. “I don’t know how Scar puts up with it.”

Jimmy shrugs, scrubbing the food grime off the last plate in the sink. “Have you considered that maybe it’s ‘cause he wanted to match with you?”

Grian goes quiet so Jimmy glances at him from over his shoulder. The dirty-blonde has gone still at the other end of the counter, wet rag in hand and a contemplative look on his face.

“I can’t see why he’d want to do that.” Grian shakes his head in disbelief. “Maybe he just enjoys looking ridiculous.”

Jimmy dries off his hands and gives a hearty sigh. He can try and help Grian get over some of the embarrassment related to the cat sweater, but he can’t coach Grian through realizing some of the unspoken feelings between him and Scar. It seems to be obvious to everyone but the two of them, so much so that Jimmy has even caught wind of Scott and Martyn making bets on how long it will be before one of them breaks.

“Anything else you need help with?” Jimmy asks, surveying the freshly cleaned kitchen. The dishes are done, the counters are wiped off and the leftovers have already been divvied up, so it seems like the kitchen may be good-to-go.

“You can see if Joel and Lizzie want some help taking down the decorations in the entryway,” Grian offers. Jimmy nods and heads off to the entryway, a bit baffled at how quickly Grian is to take down all the festive decorations. He’s always been a firm believer in leaving them up at least until New Years.

But Joel and Lizzie have the decorations in the entrance handled, and Scar and Mumbo are almost done with cleaning up the dining room, so it appears that it might be time for Jimmy to head home. He just has to find Tango, first, since he hasn’t seen the man since he started helping Grian in the kitchen.

He’s making sure he’s got all his things together when Tango comes into the living room, rather excitably, telling from the grin on his face.

“Jimmy!” Tango says cheerfully. It makes Jimmy’s heart throb with how excited he gets seeing Jimmy, even though they see each other practically everyday.

“Everything is all cleaned up,” Jimmy says, grabbing his coat. “You about ready to go?”

Tango rushes forward and grabs Jimmy’s coat from him. “Hold that thought! There’s something I want to show you.”

Jimmy quirks an eyebrow. “Oh?”

That’s all he gets to say before Tango’s dragging him through the house. Jimmy isn’t paying much attention to where they’re going, mostly baffled at Tango’s behavior. It’s not until they get to the hallway that Jimmy knows leads to the basement where Tango finally stops. He doesn’t bother to turn the light on, just looking up at Jimmy with a cheshire grin.

“You gonna tell me what we’re doing in this corner of the house?” Jimmy asks, looking to his left and right for an indicator to explain Tango’s strange behavior.

Tango just giggles in response, before taking a step closer to Jimmy and pointing upwards.

It hits Jimmy before he even looks up and sees the plastic plant tacked up on the ceiling.

“Holy moly.” Jimmy hides his face in his hands as Tango’s giggles become louder and more delighted. “I completely forgot about the mistletoe after everything that’s been happening tonight!”

“I’ve been looking for it all night!”

He pulls his hands away from his face, jaw slack with surprise. “I thought Grian swore he wasn’t going to put it up after what happened last year?”

Tango shrugs. “Guess he changed his mind.”

“That would explain why he put it in such a hidden location.”

Tango hums, looking up at Jimmy with a coy smile. “Still waiting on that kiss.”

Jimmy smiles, already leaning in. “Right.”

His eyes flutter shut instantly, their lips meeting with a practiced ease. Jimmy relishes in the feeling of finally having a private moment with Tango. Away from prying eyes, he allows himself to melt into Tango’s embrace, adjusting the angle of his head as Tango’s hand cups the back of his neck.

Jimmy can’t help but smile into the kiss, his hands instinctively framing either side of Tango’s waist. His thumbs travel below the hemline of Tango’s Iron Man sweater and press against his skin, which elicits a huffy laugh out of Tango at the sensation. Jimmy’s heart soars the longer the kiss goes on, the gentle yet firm slide of lips making his head swim with affection.

All Jimmy can think right now is I love you, I love you, I love you. He might just implode on himself if he holds it in any longer, so he makes up his mind—he’s going to say it right now.

Tango laughs affectionately when they part, his warm breath ghosting over Jimmy’s lips and sending shivers down his spine. Tango’s thumb traces the curve of Jimmy’s cheekbone delicately and the most accurate way he can describe how Tango is looking at him right now is as if Jimmy hung the moon and the stars for him. Jimmy is absolutely, positively smitten.

He loosens his grip on Tango’s waist and opens his mouth to finally say it, but someone else turns the corner before he can form the words.

“Hey Jim, Grian wants you to take home some of that fruitcake Cleo brought—” Joel freezes once he realizes he’s walked in on them, and Jimmy levels him with an unimpressed look. But Joel doesn’t even begin to muster out an apology, because once he spots the decor in the doorway above them, he’s running off to tell Grian that someone finally found the mistletoe.

Tango groans, canting forward and burying his face in Jimmy’s chest. “We can’t have one moment without being interrupted, can we?” He looks back up at Jimmy with that signature smile of his and Jimmy absolutely melts.

“I love you,” he says before he can stop himself. The words slip past his teeth easily, like second nature. They’re monumental and carry so much weight, yet Jimmy doesn’t shy away from the admission. He’s been dying to tell Tango this for so long that finally getting it out there is a weight lifted off his shoulders.

Tango’s chest rumbles against Jimmy's with the soft murmur of a laugh. “I love you, too.”

Tango goes to kiss Jimmy again but Jimmy stops him, gently pushing on his chest to put some space between them. Tango looks up at him with a sudden confusion painted on his expression, but Jimmy just stares at him.

“No, Tango,” he says, insistent, “I love you.” He says it more forcefully this time, like it will make Tango understand that he really, truly means it.

Tango cocks his head, brow still furrowed like he doesn’t know what Jimmy’s playing at. “Yeah, and I love you, too.”

Jimmy stares, slack-jawed and mortified. “That's not— I don’t—” He groans in frustration, burying his reddening face in his hands. Why is Tango acting so nonchalant about this? It’s a huge deal to Jimmy!

“What? What’s the face for?” Tango asks, worry wrought in his tone. He gently places his hands on Jimmy’s arms and it only makes the affection Jimmy holds for him grow.

Jimmy huffs, pulling his hands away from his face yet avoiding Tango’s gaze. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that all day, working myself up to it and finding the perfect moment and—” He shrugs flippantly, feeling his face become warmer and warmer. When he looks at Tango, his hands are over his mouth and his eyes are wide in shock, like he’s realized what he’s just done.

“Oh no,” Tango says with a giggle. “Really?” Jimmy nods, embarrassed out of his mind. Tango practically shrieks with laughter, coming closer and linking his hands behind Jimmy’s neck. “You’re adorable, Jimmy.” He goes up on his tip-toes and begins aggressively peppering Jimmy’s face with kisses.

Jimmy fights back the giggles but is ultimately unable to hold them back. “Stop it, stop it.” Tango starts giggling too and nearly loses his balance and knocks them both over, but Jimmy is able to right the both of them before they hit the floor. They’re only laughing harder now, and holding the other close. Jimmy revels in the closeness of their embrace, and the fact that he finally said it, and got a positive response. But, against his better nature, Jimmy doesn’t quite feel convinced just yet.

“You didn’t say it just because I did?” Jimmy asks, pulling away from the embrace so that he can look Tango in the eyes. “I’m not trying to pressure you or anything, I swear.”

Tango stares up at him with a blank expression. “Are you kidding?” he asks, deadpan. Jimmy shakes his head, genuinely worried for the answer. It comes in the form of Tango grabbing him by the side of his face and grinning from ear-to-ear. “I’m crazy about you! Hello? Matching sweaters, the mistletoe, the fact that we’re literally moving in together?”

Jimmy laughs as Tango jostles his cranium around. “Okay, okay! I got it.”

Tango smiles contentedly, hands now traveling down Jimmy’s chest. “And don’t you forget it.”

As if slotting into place, Jimmy ducks down and fits his lips against Tango’s. This kiss is gentle and slow, timed perfectly to the steady beating of Jimmy’s heart. He feels lighter, and his chest is filled with the warmth of knowing that he is loved by the very same man he is in love with. He grips the fabric of Tango’s sweater, smiling through the kiss at the romantic nature of their matching sweaters. They’re reminders that Jimmy will always have a piece of Tango with him, and the same for Tango.

Tango breaks the kiss just long enough to mumble against Jimmy’s lips, “I love you.”

And Jimmy smiles, heart full and more happy than in his wildest dreams. He pulls Tango as close to him as humanly possible, because he can never get enough of him. “I love you, too.”

#trafficshipping #solidaritek #team rancher #rancher duo #fanfic #fic #my writing #mine #christmas #i love this fic so tumblr can have it too!

[thesuitelife547]

B1A4, OMG, ONF Google Drive Folders Masterlist (Updated December 6, 2022)

So if any of you have been on my Twitter, you may know that I have (a lot of) Google Drive folders holding different performances that I’ve subbed for B1A4, OMG, and ONF and this here is the Masterlist for them having the links to the folders and describing what they all contain. 

If anyone has any questions, feel free to reach out because I know this is a lot of stuff and it may be hard to find things. The only folder that doesn’t specifically have what’s in it is the Special Folder. But the first section is all of the live performances and then the second consists of the subbed videos that I have and that are uploaded.

I’ll be updating this from time to time, too, so this isn’t the final list and I don’t think it ever will be.

But let me know if you have any questions. Thanks to everyone and enjoy!

- Marisa

MUSIC

B1A4 https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1cBfcm1GTR8RJAkG-CrxvMviAJLowLIbS Japanese albums (3, 4), Do You Remember, Follow Me, Listen to the B1A4, Japanese MV (Happy Days & You and I), Road Trip, Traffic Safety Song, Chu Chu Chu (Japanese), Immortal Songs 2 (It Will Pass, Like A Dandelion Spore, The Flight), The First Day She Cried, Smart Campaign Song, SBS Hope TV Logo Song, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/15bTrPL772g-VfFpS8G1jo7nYpWg4DVTp The Class, BABA B1A4, Amazing Store, JYP Party People, Japan Showcase Live 2011 https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1q5_AtPhJAOZM2nRvG3HZvi5JH35wDzRR Baby I’m Sorry, Beautiful Target, Duet Festival, OK, Rollin’, Sugar Man, Sweet Girl, What’s Going On https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1VIUtCPfey2EEr2nhnkn4h89jKy3758vh A Lie, Baby Goodnight, Mask King, Solo Day, Tried to Walk, 10 Years Later (Guerilla Concert), A Glass of water [Inkigayo & Music Bank], DMZ Special Stage, Lonely & Solo Day [MBC Gayo, Seoul Music Awards], FM Date, Solo Day & If Snow Comes [SBS Gayo], Together [Comeback Showcase], You Are A Girl I Am A Boy [Inkigayo, Music Core] https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1bcZq2cD8mHdU_eazLp4Yc9iFzvLpflL0?usp=sharing Japanese Albums (1, 2, 5), 1000 Song Challenge (Bounce, By Chance, Confession, I Hate, I Must’ve Loved You, Love’s Battery, Lying on the Ocean, Night of the Moon, Only, Yellow Handkerchief, Young You), Immortal Songs 2 (Dance with DOC, Do You Know Rosie, Forgotten Season, In Case You Don’t Come, In Your Arms, Older Sister, One Love, One Ticket, Rain Falling in Myeongdong, Unconditionally, White Love), Japanese Singles B-Sides (BANA Day, Colorful, Drive, Fly Away, Glass of Water, If…, Ready To Go, Who Am I), Lonely, MV (Sunshine, White Miracle, With You, The Way To Find Love [Cinderella and the Four Knights], No Problem [Smart Prison Playbook], One More Step [Introverted Boss], Other World [Bad Guys], Tell Me [Manhole], The Day We Fall In Love), Only Learned Bad Things, Sandeul Solo Albums, ABC Song [Line Song], KBS Gayo Special Stages, Good Timing [Comeback Showcase, The Show], Here I Am [Lovely Horribly], In A Dream [Comeback Showcase, Kiss the Radio, Show Champion], Intuition [MCountdown], It’s Christmas [Haeyo TV], Lingering Inside of Me [The Tale of Noku], Love Then [Haeyo TV, Show Champion], Nothing Better [Sketchbook], Perhaps [Simsimtapa], Prince of the Sea [MBC Gayo], Road [Golden Disk Awards], Star [I Need Love], Stay As You Are [Haeyo TV], The Place Where You Should Be [Music Core], This Time is Over [Haeyo TV], Winter Story & White Christmas [Music Core], With You [Open Concert, Reply 1994 Music Special] https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/18ezSSQ96Mq9cgcJVE9U9Bg9OXFTQj48m?usp=sharing Origine, Origine Comeback Showcase, Adult Diary [Start Up], B1A4 2017 Japan Tour ‘Be The One’ (17.06.16), Timing [Music Bank], Timing MV, Pick Up, Blue Whale [Kiss Episode 3] (19.03.19), The Love of Fingertips MV, Oppa MV

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1RmO0jkWzjf_83jiMr0tWn3BjDe8ahI4C?usp=share_link

Special Folder [Raw] https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1qVF0f3A15Zdts5lEEIOqUv-x20Yf11Pc?usp=sharing Special Folder OH MY GIRL https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1jQk4pYiSWp29PrSt4eb_mlgOk_pyh1Rq?usp=sharing Banana Allergy Monkey, Coloring Book, Oh My Girl, OST (Fluttering Footsteps, I Know, Sarr), Pink Ocean, Secret Garden, The Fifth Season, Echo [Remember Me Showcase], Eternally, Listen to My Word [MCountdown], Walking With (feat. Sandeul) [Girl Spirit] ONF https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1Z40a0KYH-WhJwGjRxf7lY1OPeigTzGxx?usp=sharing ON/OFF, ON/OFF First Showcase, Complete, Complete Second Showcase, OST (Not A Sad Song, Your Day), ON/OFF Japanese Single, Complete Japanese Single https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1LH_OtNhAP84ErXL0TI2cLygTPX24BQM2?usp=sharing We Must Love, Go Live, Go Live Showcase, New World [Road to Kingdom], Spin Off, ONF: My Name, ONF: My Name Showcase, MK’s Soundcloud (You’re My Muse)

SHOWS

B1A4

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/18RNNiAKZA_dzlXDD4Dz6_JvarndpSu4q?usp=share_link

BABA B1A4, Celebrity Bromance, Crime Scene, D+B1A4, I Need Romance, God of Music 2, Pikicast Episode 5 

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1-7Dztpvuz27rwrBzmjTpc6uEzikOelZH?usp=share_link

MTV Diary, PC Room Attack, 3 Minute Boyfriend [SNL], Dingo Test, 10th Anniversary - Road, Tei’s Dreaming Radio Clip (16.12.06), Bingo Talk [The Show] (16.12.06), Secretly, Greatly (16.12.11), Section TV (16.12.04), Snack MBTI, B1A4 x Javisi, Music Bank Stardust (16.10.05), Sandeul 1st Mini Album Music Documentary, Show Champion (16.12.27), The Kolor (20.10.22), Today, Too, You’ve Worked Hard Episode 12

ONF

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1DehBbdwFwvXOgWqCujq1kDij4GkiUanU?usp=share_link

On The Run, Blind Date with ONF, The Kolor (20.12.03)

#b1a4 #onf #oh my girl #google drive #text

[shortpplfedup]

In the conclusion to our winter series, @bengiyo and I award our Best In Class VIIB Awards (Very Important Internet BL Awards) 2022, and hand out Special Class awards to two very special shows.

Find us and subscribe to the show on Zencastr, Spotify, Google Podcasts and soon on Apple Podcasts.

#the conversation #ben and nini's conversations #the viib awards #viib awards 2022 #winter series #on art #podcast

[grrl-bubble-acid]

Off-White c/o Virgil Abloh Fall Winter 2021 "Laboratory of Fun" ~ specia...

#youtube #Off-White #fall #2021 #virgil abloh

[perfamp]

Graphene Smart Heated Jacket with Removable Sleeves

Are you still hesitating about what clothes to wear in the air-conditioned room in winter? Check out this smart heated padded jacket. You can directly wear a T-shirt outdoors, and then turn on the heating function of the clothes. When you get to a place with air conditioning, you can turn off the heating function. If it is still hot, you can remove the sleeves and hat of the clothes and turn them into a vest directly. In short, you can wear it however you want, suitable for all occasions.

#heated jacket #heated vest #graphene technology

[putschki1969]

Winter Special Q&A FictionJunction CLUB Newsletter #32

Once again I’ve decided to translate one of their special seasonal questionnaires. A while ago I did their Summer Special Q&A from FJC Newsletter #30, be sure to check it out if you haven’t already ^_^

Please be aware that I only translated the replies by Keiko, Wakana and Hikaru. (Sorry to all fans of YK, Yuriko and Kaori >_<)

As always, be sure to CREDIT me if you use parts of this translation!

Find my other translations HERE!

All right, here we go =>

Due to immense popularity, we are back! Yet another special feature for you to enjoy exclusively in this newsletter.   

Q1: If you were to express the year 2016 in words, which words would you be using?

KEIKO: I think it was a 「year of devotion」. For me, the year was about making sure that all the things that had to be done were followed through thoroughly with continued devotion.

WAKANA: 「Knowledge」 I experienced many things this year, I became aware of many things and I learned a lot. I feel like this year in particular was very educational, that’s why I chose this word.

HIKARU: 「A year with many new lessons」 There were various venues such as halls, live houses, arenas, theatres and even outdoor stages. At many occasions we got the chance to perform with our band, which is our usual style, but we also held several lives with acoustic arrangements. We gained valuable experiences by being able to sing together with great artists. It was a truly stimulating and educational year.

Q2: It’s 2017!! Please tell us your ambitions and goals for this year, what kind of year is it going to be, any personal challenges you would like to face?

KEIKO: Well...I’d like to expand the range of our activities in order to broaden our horizon. I think this year it would be nice to have the courage to take a leap into new territories.

WAKANA: I wanna read more! And I wanna watch more movies! Of course I also wanna go to many more museums and art galleries! (I say this every year). Together with everyone, I would like to create music that brings us all happiness. I wanna make it an amazing year!

HIKARU: I want to make it a year where I can face the challenges within myself while steadily moving forward.

Q3: What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you are thinking about the winter time, please tell us your recommended food choices!

KEIKO: Pizza buns!!! Ever since my days as a student, I’d yearn for pizza buns as soon as it got colder. The hot and gooey perfection of the cheese!! Especially in winter, I end up craving them.

WAKANA: Undoubtedly goosefish liver! Last year I couldn’t get enough of it, I ate way too much so I haven’t really had it yet this year. But I’ll definitely eat it again, starting at the beginning of the new year（ﾉ｡≧◇≦）ﾉ

HIKARU: Mandarins. Peeling mandarins while sitting under our kotatsu*, it’s the best thing in the world! [*kotatsu: a low, wooden table frame covered by a futon, or heavy blanket, upon which a table top sits. Underneath is a heat source.]

Q4: By the time this newsletter will be sent out, the New Year’s celebrations will already be over...what kind of o-zōni* will you have at your parent’s home? Also, what’s your preferred kind of mochi*? [o-zōni is a soup containing mochi rice cakes and other ingredients. It is strongly associated with the Japanese New Year. Mochi= rice cakes are similarly popular and are often prepared from scratch as a tradition ]

KEIKO: For several years now, I’ve been the one in charge of preparing o-zōni.♪ I keep it very simple, I use dashi as stock for the soup; I love to add flavour and richness by using plenty of shiitake mushrooms. I don’t eat mochi so I won’t have any in my soup *laughs* but my family loves rice cakes so they will always have them.

WAKANA: Our soup is made out of chicken, grilled mochi, taro, carrots, spinach and Japanese parsley. (*^▽^*) It’s a clear dashi soup with a very light taste. I just love my mum’s cooking and this is my favourite dish of hers.♪

HIKARU: We have a soy sauce based soup with square rice cakes, bamboo shoots, shiitake mushrooms, carrots, lotus roots, spinach, chicken dumplings and shrimps.

Q5: During your childhood, what kind of fun things did you do in the winter holidays around New Year’s?

KEIKO: I used to fly kites together with my dad and older sister. At that time we owned a German Shepherd* so every time we took him for a walk, we’d use that opportunity to fly our kite, it became a yearly tradition. [*In case you didn’t know about that, Keiko really likes big dogs and she talked about her German Shepherd in a pretty old blog post. His name was “Adler” (=German word for eagle). Tiny Keiko loved getting crushed under Adler-kun’s enormous body. She says he was quite the naughty boy, he would always try to escape by digging holes under the fence. Keiko was a super naughty child so naturally, she would get along marvellously with their dog, she loved him dearly. They would always play together.]

WAKANA: As a primary school student, I would fly kites together with my older brother. Later on when I was older, I would often go over to my friend’s house and play games with her such as “Donjara” (a Doraemon boardgame similar to mahjong) or Monopoly. Then on New Year’s Day I always had loads of fun together with my entire family at my grandparents’ house.

HIKARU: I’d play cards (a Japanese card game called Hanafuda) and video games.

Q6: This season is getting colder and colder. What do you recommend to keep warm?

KEIKO: Heat packs. I put them in my shoes, on my back, on my tummy...I’ll pretty much put them on my entire body *laughs*

WAKANA: These days when I go outside, a big fluffy muffler is a MUST! At home I’ll try to warm up by adding rock salt pieces and Japanese rice wine to my bath water, I do this every winter♪

HIKARU: Hot drinks such as cocoa ♪

#kalafina #my translations #interview #q&a #questionnaire #winter specia #fjc newsletter #I wanna eat pizza buns #damn it #they look so yummy #that cat comic is an accurate depiction of Hikaru under a kotatsu #long post #picture heavy

[x-exol]

summer starts when exo come back

#me in the middle of december when they come bcak with their specia; winter album: #I LOVE SUMMER WOHOOOOO

[outroshooky]

waiting for the sky to fall | jjk

⇢ genre: series; part one (i-saw-you-on-the-subway-every morning-this-week-and-i’m-possibly-in-love-with-you!au) (fluff)

⇢ pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader

⇢ word count: 6.3k

⇢  warnings: brief instance of anxiety; probably too much rambling about how pretty jeongguk is when he exists like that

⇢ a/n: a dearest birthday present for the love of my life and platonic soulmate @guksheart. cait, i cannot believe we have been a part of each other’s lives for over a year now. i adore you so so much and i am so proud of the bold, compassionate, wonderfully gay, fierce yet gentle, considerate, accepting, lovely woman that you are. i would not trade our sisterhood for the world, and i still cannot believe that you are coming to new york in a mere matter of months. i can only hope that we’ll have adventures like this one when you do.

this is heavily inspired by the commute i took to visit my friend in the city over the summer!! kudos to columbia university for loaning me some much-needed inspiration, although i never fell in love with anybody on the way there.

part one of the verses and vibes series. part two will be uploaded on december 20, 2019.

“bright star, would i were stedfast as thou art—   not in lone splendour hung aloft the night   and watching, with eternal lids apart,   like nature’s patient, sleepless eremite,”

⤷ “bright star, would i were stedfast as thou art”; john keats

10:57pm.

Call it 11, it’s close enough.

Eleven o’clock in the evening.

A sacred time, those great appreciators of the universe would say. It is amazing how, as the wind caresses your hair with breezy fingers, there are some who walk the city streets below without pause. Some who cannot understand the sanctity of such a time, the security that comes with the blanket of nightfall— if you could call it nightfall in the heart of such a metropolis.

Below you beats a rhythm akin to the one in your soul, beneath the skin of your merely human chest. A home you’d heard so much about, fallen in love with before you’d even met, and god it couldn’t have felt more right. Over the edge of the balcony is utter chaos: taxi cabs honk an irregular staccato, the open! sign of the ramen shop one block over flickers its own neon melody. People shout, brakes screech, doors bang, dogs bark; to anybody else, it would be utter madness but to you- to you, it is simply home.

The ambient light mutes the glow of so many stars that pinprick the sky millions of miles above, arcing across the heavens in so many celestial designs. If you squint, you can pick out Casseopia, maybe even Ursa Major through the dim haze. The stars are far and few between, but it’s a quick glance to your left and right and you’re surrounded by majestic masterpieces, this time of a manmade design.

When you were younger, you used to muse that skyscrapers not only scraped the bright blue sky so far above, but supported the very cosmos itself with the slight curve in their arching backs. They bore the weight of the world, shouldering the immense task of keeping the stratosphere aloft. For a skyscraper to crumble was for the sky to fall, and yet you’d never seen one even waver in the wind.

Later, of course, you would learn that this was not the case. Earth herself kept the stratosphere in good health, and those wonderfully tall buildings existed as testaments to man’s great ability. However, there was a quiet part of you that still entertained the fantasy (as all of us do, in one way or another). And why not? It's moments like this, where you are surrounded by the dizzying breadth of the world out there and you can taste the sweetness of the universe’s ambrosia, that have you thinking twice about it all. Who says that we can't hold up the sky? Who says we don't spend our lives wondering, even if just a little bit, when the pillars will collapse and the sky itself will cave in one shuddering breath? Who decides when the Sun will burn, the Moon will freeze, when life as we know it tumbles to ash and dust?

“Baby?” His fingers interlock over yours, warm against the cool of the balcony railing. “Everything okay?”

His chest is warm against your back, grounding in its familiarity. You could name the planes and angles of his body like you could name the asterisms that freckle the night sky. He smells like cucumber soap when you turn and nuzzle into his neck, the damp locks of his hair tickling your forehead. You usually tease him when he’s post-shower like this, the bangs that tumble past his cheekbones giving the impression of a shaggy mop, but you spare him tonight. He squeezes over your hand, palm flush against your knuckles as your cheeks heat against his neck. 

“I’m fine,” you murmur. “Just taking a moment.”

Jeongguk tilts his head skyward, but he’s already got the universe in his eyes, wide and fawn. His chest rumbles when he speaks, soft velvet, a little gritty. “It's so beautiful out here.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” you raise your head to reply, brushing your nose to the column of his throat.

He’s got good composure but he's blushing now, between the lateness of the hour and the softness of your skin. He may smell of Dove and there’s a pimple dotting his cheek, but you’re stunning in the light and there’s a faint air of something sweet; if it’s your skin or your soul, he can’t decide. Perhaps both but he can’t help himself; his lips find your forehead and your eyes flutter shut. Contentment so simple, so lovely. 

His arm slides around your shoulders and the way you fit into his side is divine insistence. The other half you never knew you had, and yet at one time, it wasn’t this way. Hard to believe, but that’s the reality of it, and you never even knew he filled a gap in your heart until the deed was done, and there was nothing you could do to unplug the hole.

He kisses your temple and you kiss his shoulder, exposed by the dip of his t-shirt. “Come to bed, baby.”

“But it’s so nice out here,” you whine. 

“It’s late and you have class in the morning,” he coaxes quietly, his accented English gentle in your ears. “Come on.” His fingers slip from your own and you sigh, giving in.

“But you have to carry me inside.”

His eyes roll but he’s already stooping, and when he scoops you into his arms to press a kiss to your nose- he just can’t help himself- you poke his cheek and he grins a smile as warm as the lazy afternoon sun. “I love you.”

“I love you twice that amount.”

Jeongguk takes the balcony in stride, nudges the sliding door open with his foot. “Yeah, well I love you fifty times that amount. Squared.”

He kicks it closed behind him as you raise an eyebrow. “Cheater.”

“I’ll throw you on the bed, swear to god.”

“You’re mean,” You retort. 

“No I’m not.” He turns the light off on his way in, bumps the bedroom door shut with his impossibly slender hip. “I’ll be the big spoon if you take that back.”

Bedsheets under your fingertips. “Fine.”

It is hard to believe that, merely a year ago, you would be coming inside to an empty bed. Merely a year ago, your world would be silent, save the busy hum outside your apartment windows. Merely a year ago, you hadn’t a clue that your world was about to turn upside down, flipped on its axis and spun into chaos in ways you’d never even considered possible. Merely a year, but a lifetime spent sitting, waiting, wishing- twiddling your thumbs, chewing on your fingernails, anxiously hoping for something, anything.

And that’s when, exactly three-hundred and sixty-four days ago, the columns gave out in a rush of dust, the cosmos itself unraveling at the seams of early morning.

 Momentary silence, a stifled yawn. “Come cuddle.”

A sleepy, breathy, near-whisper. “Will you be the big spoon?”

Jeongguk chuckles, breath soft. “Always, baby girl. Always.”

one year before

There’s no better alarm clock than a caramel macchiato, sipped through tired lips and bleary eyes on the chaos of a Monday morning in the subway. You are far from a morning person, as evidenced by the death grip on your Starbucks cup, but you feel just a little more human with the help of four espresso shots and a pump of hazelnut. Having an off-campus apartment means it’s a roughly twenty minute subway ride between home and school, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, not when there’s not much of a difference between the two.

To be frank, the city is home- a comfort you never expected, the subject of a thousand love letters never to be written but in the deepest cavities of your soul. The grime of the sidewalks, the gritty rumbling of the subways, artful graffiti and corner bubble tea and a little bit of pride, thrumming in the deepest recesses of necessity. The city in which you grew up is merely a square foot to the square acres that are your romping ground now.

The wires of your headphones snake around your scarf, bundled up around your shoulders. It is that wonderful time before fall bleeds over completely into winter, a lingering cool breath, and arguably the best season of all. Thus, you are perfectly comfortable underneath a warm jacket, backpack slung across your shoulder as you swipe your card, pass through the turnstiles and on to the waiting train just across the platform.

The subway car rattles beneath you with a groan, darkness rushing past in so many variants of orange from the neon lights that dotted the tunnels. Around you, bodies press tight on the morning commuter train; in any other circumstance, it would make you anxious, but there’s an odd feeling of security it grants. The train slows, pulling into the next station, and you focus your attention on the page of Madeline Miller’s latest bestseller.

At the next station, the car decompresses as travelers shift, and you are left a moment to breathe before the train will inevitably fill again, two stops from now. Next to you, a purple jacket brushes your shoulder. Just above the top of your book, a pair of black Timberlands pauses before turning towards you and settling. 

There really is no reason at all why these Timberlands would be special. There's no reason at all why your eyes find it necessary to track upwards, no reason why you should have glanced up from your delightful novel for the sake of one commuter’s settling. No reason at all why, as your eyes followed skinny jean-clad thighs to a leather jacket, and further, further.

His caramel-streaked hair brushes his cheekbones, styled in a way you’d typically call bedhead, but on him looks like art. His brow is soft yet defined, much like his jawline, cutting narrow. His lips are perfectly pink, a gentle pout, and his graceful nose a button. His shoulders are broad, the taper of his waist impossibly slender but hidden under the folds of his ridiculously oversized t-shirt. 

And his eyes- his eyes. 

You have poured over literature for hours upon hours, soaking in poetry and epics and novels alike, yet you have never understood what the poets meant until this very moment.

His eyes are the café au lait you sip on sunny afternoons, the sweetness of a chocolate bar, the warmth of a woolen blanket in wintertime. They glint with the light of a thousand stars but shine with the depth of a thousand galaxies, each and every one a testament to the great work of the universe. It is as if he holds the very cosmos in his pupils, and your breath is stolen from your lungs without a second thought. 

He is stunningly beautiful but goes completely unnoticed by everyone else in the car, it seems, as the train picks up speed. There is no greater punishment than tearing your gaze away from him when you realize you've been staring too long to be socially acceptable. You force yourself to return back to your novel but end up reading the same line five times over, too distracted by the shift of his heels, the way he toys with the straps of his rucksack. 

Part of you aches every time the train car fills, obscuring your view of the handsome stranger. Each time, you’re left wondering if he's moved, but each time, the crowds part to find him still seated on the garish plastic bench, glued to his iPhone. Your stop is the next and you can't help but feel anxious about getting up, about turning face and walking out of the train car. Your heart rattles an irregular tempo as you snap your book shut (still on the same page as twenty minutes ago), gather your things, and carefully stand amid the gently rocking car. He doesn't even look up at your sudden movement, and there's a part of you that is somehow irrationally crushed. 

The train grinds to a halt and the doors slide open, and you spare one last longing look before striding across the grimy tile, minding the gap between the train and the platform. Foolish of you to want to stop your day for the sake of an attractive stranger. Foolish of you to think his day would stop, either. 

With a muffled curse behind you, footsteps thud and voices grumble as a mop-haired boy with a rucksack on his shoulder bursts his way out of the train car, having nearly forgotten that this is his stop, too. When something brushes your arm as you jog up the stairs, you nearly drop your Starbucks with the realization that he is unintentionally keeping pace with you across the stairwell, lost behind the curtain of his fawn locks. 

Anxiety melts to curiosity as you weave through the station, matching pace all the while as you’re spit out onto the street from underground and walk the mere half block to your university gates. He hesitates under them, a touch of nerves, but shakes his head and continues on under the tree-covered path of the quad. You lose him somewhere by the Economics building, heading towards the library as you turn towards Hamilton Hall, but the excited thrill in your veins outweighs any and all disappointment.

You're practically glowing during 8am lecture, dancing on air through your lunch break when you think you spot him across the dining hall, but in fact it's just that guy from your math gen-ed. You’d never admit to a stranger consuming your thoughts, but here’s a nagging feeling at the back of your skull as you zip up your bag at the end of your day and head towards the corner station. 

A typical Monday indeed?

Anything but. 

It was certainly unconventional, the way you launched yourself out of bed the next morning in favor of tripping into a pair of jeans and dashing to fix your hair in the bathroom mirror. You haven't put so much effort into getting ready in months, and factoring in time for a dab of makeup left you skipping breakfast in favor of slinging your bag over your shoulder to rush out the door on time.

An iced Americano restores breath to your lungs, but does nothing to soothe the jitter in your bouncing knee as the train doors shut and a voice crackles over the intercom, unintelligible. A chocolate croissant is light on your tongue, memories of the flaky pastry crossing your mind only to be drowned out by thoughts of the next station and the promises it holds.

With no novel in hand, it is easy for your eyes to flick to the crowd as the train slows coming into the station. Effortlessly, you pick him out even with the white mask across the lower half of his face obscuring his nose and mouth. His visage is scrawled, it seems, on the inside of your eyelids; it danced throughout your Human Behaviors class, teased you through the late night of cramming for midterms. You hoped the concealer would cover the dark spots under your eyes, but you couldn't be certain.

As the doors slide open and the crowd surges forward, you lose him for a moment in the streams and flows of people coming and going. He appears just down the car, button-down rolled at the elbows, and even from a distance you feel your cheeks heat as he finds an empty seat just across the aisle.

Yesterday, his jacket hid him to the knuckles under the security of worn leather. But today, pushed sleeves reveal the ink snuggled tight around his wrist, curling its way up his forearm to snake hidden under the folds of the unbuttoned dress shirt he so casually threw over another plain black t-shirt. Sunflowers and daisies and blossoms you can't even name bloom in color across his skin, geometric designs etching sculpture into living marble. He is a magnum opus through and through, bearing so many works of art on the canvas of his flesh.

The white wires of his headphones leave him oblivious to the world, the galaxies in his pupils twinkling under the stark white light. He is wholly unbothered by a group of high school girls tittering to his left, the judging eyes of the older gentleman to his right. He simply exists in all of his beauty, whether the world wishes to love him or not.

And then his eyes find you.

It is only for a moment, but his gaze renders you breathless, mind spinning, pulse racing. He blinks owlishly, staring only for a second, two, but it's long enough to feel your heart ricochet around your chest, caged butterflies in your chest soar against the crest of your ribcage. They dart in tandem, beating their fragile wings with a fluttering pulse; you swear you’re reduced to a mere teenager at the sight of him, and that’s just ridiculous. The train car around you is suspended; it is hard to believe you are breathing the same air merely a few paces away, but you are and it is him and the depth of his soul is staring you blind in the face.

You don’t know him but you know him, all at once. He says a thousand sweet nothings with the shine of the lights in his eyes, promises commandments to keep when his lashes flutter against the apples of his cheeks. He is a complete stranger but somehow, someway, a known companion. His fingers twitch against the fabric of his jeans and you wonder what they would feel like wrapped around yours, memorizing every divot with a careful reverence. How they would brush your hip when he pulls you against his side, how they would pull at you craving more, more, more— 

A spice of cologne curls under your nose, a little floral, a little sweet. Perhaps it’s his, the scent that clings to his pillow in the morning and his jacket in the evening. The tap of the woman’s foot to your left is the beat of his footsteps on the creaky apartment floor as he announces he’s home, he’s brought dinner; life is simple and content—

He nods his head to the beat that flows quick through his headphones, eyes shut, in his own world. You can’t help but wonder what it would be like to share on your morning commute, fingers entwined with coffee in one hand but music in your heart—

Bodies around you ebb and flow, but the flurry is nothing compared to the images that swirl in front of you. Tracing his tattoos with the lightest touch, laughing till his nose scrunches at a shitty pun, early kisses and late-night touches. The warmth in his eyes when you do something stupid, the comfort in your arms around his shoulders when he’s doubting himself—

It’s a misplaced elbow to your ribs that jolts you out of reverie as the older gentleman seated next to you creaks to his feet. You wince and open your mouth to complain, but not before taking in the empty seat across the train car, devoid of leather and ink and beauty.

Where did he g— 

That’s when the car doors slide shut and you, all too soon, come to a stunning realization:

The handsome stranger whom you have just spent twenty minutes daydreaming about is gone, nowhere to be seen, lost in the crowd of chaos that is the city.

And you have completely missed your stop.

Well, it’s a damn good thing taxi cabs exist.

Your alarm does not go off on Wednesday morning. Perhaps a fatal mistake, because by the time your dreary eyes crack open at the suspicious amount of rest you’re getting for the middle of the week, you are supposed to leave your apartment in eight minutes— shower, breakfast, makeup, and all.

Perhaps there is a god looking out for you after all, because you manage to make it out of the house only two minutes later (although just about all of the above had to wait). Your stomach grumbles as your feet trod down the littered stairs of the station, an insistent reminder that the last meal you had was ten hours ago, and you really need to eat sooner rather than later. No time meant no coffee meant cold hands, an unfortunate consequence, and you’re shivering your way through the turnstiles onto the train as the wind bites cool at the back of your neck.

You’re still drowsy from sleep, a ten page paper having kept you awake, so it is no surprise that you nod off on the train. You’re not sure when your mind clears of soporific fog, but when your eyes flutter open, the one person you’ve been waiting for is seated in front of you with his elbow slung across a backpack next to him, propping up his head as he too drifts off. A raven cloth mask covers his nose and his mouth, his eyelashes brushing the curve of his cheeks, a bit crimson from the chill. A binder slips crooked under his arm, threatening to topple to the floor. Squinting at the train board means you’ve got two stops left and you force yourself upright, rubbing your eyes only to wince at their dryness.

Though your eyes ache and sleep tugs at your bones, he is worth staying awake for as his body sways with the rhythm of the car. Around you, everyone is immersed in their own little slices of the world, completely oblivious to another tired traveler. There’s a scar on his cheek and a tiredness about him, and your heart, two sizes too big, aches for something you don’t quite understand. One station passes without interruption and he is still asleep, draped over his backpack with his notebook slipping further, further. 

The train rounds the final bend, brakes screeching as it pulls into the station. The sudden deceleration is enough to send the stranger’s binder, packed with papers, spinning to the floor of the train just as you stand to gather your things. A few index cards here, some loose green and white papers there, and he is somehow still asleep through all of this, surrounded by oblivious minds and occupied hearts.

You have approximately five seconds to make a decision before the train fills with a swell of new passengers.

You don’t have to think when you’ve already made your choice.

Forgoing the cleanliness of your jeans, you stoop to the floor, scrabbling the spilled contents of paper and a pencil and a spare Chapstick into the mouth of the binder. People are already beginning to spill through the door, but you’re pushing your way through without a second glance, feet pounding the steps underneath you. You follow the beam of light that pours underground, cutting corners and rushing staircases until you are facing a narrow city block and the buildings that reach on tiptoe to kiss the heavens. The sun’s caress is warm on your cheeks as you stride through the gates, ever stony in their stoicism, and find a shady bench to sit and organize the mess in your hands.

It is a simple black binder filled to the brim with notebook paper, neat handwritten ideas that dissolve into simplistic sketches and jotted thoughts. You don’t mean to read it, you really don’t, but as you tuck the pencil into the neon green case looped through the rings, a single form catches your eye: an advertisement for the show in the greater library this weekend, set up by the architecture majors showcasing their designs in conjunction with the fine arts students.

He does fine arts? That must be the sketches in these pages. But perhaps it’s a casual hobby for him? Maybe he’s only interested in it and not actually pursuing it as a major. There’s Korean on this too; is he an international student? How long has he been going here? Why isn’t he dorming on campus with the others—  

A cough in front of you, and when you glance upward, you nearly choke in surprise.

Hazel shines russet when his eyes catch the light that filters through the trees, twinkling with something unknown when they meet your own. His hair is tucked under a beanie, vivid red against the muddy brown of his oversized sweater. His mask is pulled down to his chin as he fidgets in front of you, twisting his fingers with almost a childlike nervousness. His lips part, plush, a little chapped. “Can I have that?”

His English is sweet, accented on the ears, a softer tone than you’re expecting, but you don’t mind it. Curse your nerves and your sweaty palms! “Oh! Yeah, sure!” You nearly shove the binder at him and he blinks owlishly, taking a moment to examine its contents, making sure nothing is out of place while you ramble on and on. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get it back to you on the train, but you were asleep and I didn’t want to bother you, especially since here that’s typically just not what people do, you know how they are- Oh, your pencils and things are inside the pencil case, I figured they would be too much to try to carry around before I found you, you know? And I didn’t want anything to get lost; I hate when things of mine go missing and I tend to be so scatterbrained.” You chortle nervously as he hugs the binder to his chest.

A small smile blossoms on the stranger’s face and you get the feeling there’s more he wants to say, but doesn’t know how. Instead, he bows graciously, a little pink in the cheeks, and states simply, “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, really! Don’t worry about it. It’s what I’d want someone to do for me and since I’ve seen you only recently on the morning train, I didn’t quite know if you’re new to campus or you’ve been here a while and just moved or something like that-” He’s still staring, eyes wide, and you realize you’ve been talking for far too long. “But ah, I’m sorry! Continue on, yeah? Have a good day!” You ramble, internally kicking yourself. Damn your loose tongue and damn this man for being so infernally, unfairly attractive.

He blushes even deeper, face flushing crimson, and shoulders his backpack. “You too…?” When he trails off, you realize he’s waiting for your name and nearly trip over your own tongue getting the syllables out. He repeats it once and nods, extending a hand. “My name is Jeongguk.”

The way his fingers brush yours is ingrained in the softness of your skin for the rest of your day, in the touch of cologne that lingers in the autumn air long after he’s gone to class. He is the sweetness of your afternoon Starbucks and the freckles of the night sky, dotted through the ambient fog that settles over the city with all the comfort of a blanket. Somehow, someway, there’s a name to the face.

A very handsome face, to boot.

You wake early that Thursday, early enough that you have time to wrap yourself in the fuzziest blanket you own and pad to the window to gaze out upon the city as it wakes slowly, block by block.

The city is sleepy too, rosy glow hanging lazily over the skyline, reluctant to slip into the brightness of daytime. It slumps against the skyscrapers, vibrant fingers brushing the glass with the softest caresses, whispering sweet nothings to the minds that rest just behind the other side. Perhaps dawn enjoys pampering her city like this, with the kindest affirmations and the prettiest, warmest eyes. 

From your apartment window, it is as if first light is melting away, slipping lower and lower as the cracked-egg yolk of the sun leaks over the harbor, spilling over the urban jungle. As you stand, blanket around your shoulders and bathed in the beauty of early morning, a thought strikes you, a minute snippet of profound reality.

It is still on your mind as your feet cross the platform an hour later, effortlessly stepping over the gap into the narrow confines of the train car. It’s busier this morning and thus your usual seat is taken, leaving you to stand and cling for dear life to the pole. A stranger brushes your arm and someone pushes against your backpack, your throat tightening in response. Oh, how you hated busy days. Anxiety blurs your surroundings, swirling in color and breath and heat around you, an unfocused Polaroid. It is blurry and nothing is right, and the doors are opening and closing, opening and closing, and then there’s a new face pressing to your left, and your entire world melts at the very seams.

It is him. Him! He is here and real and in front of you, and has opted to completely ignore his usual (empty) seat in favor of standing with you, a kindly smile gracing the corners of his lips and he ducks his head into your field of view. His eyes flick to yours and the bokeh clears, your heart thrumming happily at the warmth they contain. His fingers grip above your own as he shifts to make sure others can flow around him; you take in that little scar on his cheek, the moles that dot his neck just under the folds of his jacket, the subtle lick of ink that dips into his collarbone. You can just make out the hum that trickles from his headphones over the rattling of the train, a melodic undertone, and his head dips to check his phone.

You’re the one to nudge Jeongguk when it’s your mutual stop, him flinching with surprise when he realizes how fast the ride has gone, and as you follow up through the station, you find that you are no longer trailing him, but instead by his side. He opts to walk next to you; when you tilt your head, asking the silent question, he merely smiles and pushes the pace just a bit. When you’re chasing sunlight on stone, borne out of the street into the mouth of the day, you find yourselves under the university gates, side by side. He takes out his earbuds, fidgeting with the wires as one foot taps the sidewalk. He’s nervous. “I just wanted to say thank you for getting my book yesterday,” he begins. “Properly thank you.”

“It’s nothing, Jeongguk!” You grin, perhaps a little flushed. “Anytime, really.”

Now it’s his turn to redden, shuffling in place. “Ah, is there anything I can do to return the favor?”

“Jeongguk, don’t be silly! Well…” you trail off. “Answer me one question. What’re you majoring in?”

He beams a little at this, glancing at the sidewalk. “I’m studying architecture here for a year; I’m from Seoul. I’m also learning English.” He winces. “Or trying to.”

“Well, I think you’re doing a great job. It’s amazing that you’re learning architecture in an urban environment like this!” You gesture above as a flock of pigeons flutters past. Like a damn Disney film. 

His eyes follow the birds as they swoop above the street, ducking under lamps and through scaffolding. “It’s different from Seoul, but also like Seoul. I like it,” he confesses. “I really like the city. Any city is my city, not just Seoul. You know?”

God, he is so cute, it hurts. Hearing him talk is flowers blooming snug in your chest, winding around your nerves, soothing their live-wire ends. You can’t help but smile at him. “I know.”

“I don’t want to keep you too long…” Jeongguk hesitates as the bell in the clocktower resonates down the commons. “Class starts soon.”

You frown. “Too soon. Want to grab lunch over at Fourteenth?”

His brows furrow. “Fourteenth?”

“Fourteenth and Tenth, yeah. There’s a cute little cafe on the corner, great for people watching and Americanos. And bubble tea. There’s ramen a few shops down, too.”

“Ramen!” Jeongguk practically vibrates in excitement. You swear your face will crack from how hard you’re grinning, from shyness or joy or both. His nose scrunches; your stomach flutters. “Can I have your number? Wait, is that too direct? May I have your phone?” He shakes his head but you’re already handing him your device, a new contact at the ready.

“Text me when you get out of class. I’ll show you how real ramen is supposed to taste.”

Jeongguk raises a hand in farewell, slipping his own phone back into his pocket. You’ll never know that he saved your contact under 귀여운 여행자, nor that he suddenly has a reason to stay awake through his 8am.

And when he spots you sitting there under the Alma Mater a few hours later, his heart skips a beat in its chest. His phone vibrates in his hand.

Ready to eat?

He was born ready.

There’s a poetry book you like to read on Friday morning subway rides, one that filters breath into your lungs and stirs the lyrics in your heart. You soak up the comforts of literature with a mocha in the other hand, lo-fi in your ears, and obnoxiously colored plastic supporting your back. How wonderful life could be in all of its simple joys.

There’s warmth at your side in the form of a boy, a boy with the stars in his eyes and the galaxy in his heart who asked if he could sit next to you and with a pounding in your chest, you gladly accepted, moving your bag to your lap and returning to your Keats, singing cants of yearning all these years later.

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art--

Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night

And watching, with eternal lids apart,

Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,

The moving waters at their priestlike task

Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,

Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask

Of snow upon the mountains and the moors--

No--yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,

Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,

To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,

Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,

Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,

And so live ever--or else swoon to dea—

A note is tucked into your open page, a folded piece of cream-white paper, smooth at the edges, unwrinkled. You glance up at him to find his gaze steadily fixed on a grayed gum stain, knee jumping up and down, up and down as he fingers the rip in his frayed jeans. You unfold the paper slowly, carefully.

Are you busy on Sunday afternoon? Because I’d really like to take you to an art exhibition on campus, and I think you’d look right at home among the masterpieces.

Jeongguk’s focus is on the floor and the floor alone as his stomach twists. Butterflies beat their wings against his ribcage, darting here and there, and he swears that if the train sways one more time, he may throw up his bagel right there and then.

He feels something at his right jacket pocket and flinches, only to notice it is your hand that retreats from it a second later.

He produces a familiar looking scrap of paper from his pocket with trembling fingers, unfolding it anew as he reads a new line of scribbled letters, squinting a little at the cramped figures.

An art exhibition? Sounds like a perfect first date to me.

And that’s how this beautiful thing begins.

an epilogue (of sorts): one year and one day later

There is a thought you had many moons ago, in the heart of a child but nestled in a timeless soul. A thought that was purely fantasy: of mankind supporting the weight of the heavens with the structures that scratch the sky around your tiny little apartment, shared not by one soul, but two. Never before had someone so fallen into your heart like he had, cradling it in his palms with sweet, sweet adoration. Jeongguk was yours and you were his, and that was simply how things were.

You had moved in shortly after you began dating, a decision some criticized but had felt purely natural to the both of you. It was easy to fall into a rhythm with him, easy to let him into the world you had built for yourself now expanding to fit one more.

He introduced you to Korean barbecue and held you when things wouldn’t go your way; you dragged him into the vortex of John Mulaney’s comedy and cried together while binging all seven Harry Potter movies in two days. He taught you some Korean while you polished his English, supplementing it with words he perhaps didn’t need to know, but you couldn’t help laughing when he mashed profanities in brand-new combinations. He loved tea and quiet nights on the couch; you craved the intimate moments high above it all, watching your city rush beneath you in all of its gritty, grimy, wonderful glory. Jeongguk’s pen scratches the page of his sketchbook as you gaze out at the lights that flicker in the apartment buildings seated securely in midtown, downtown, beyond.

We will never know when the sky decides to fall, to come crashing down to earth in all of her heavenly splendor. It is something known only in the fabric of the universe, stitched together in cosmic threads we cannot even hope to unravel. Not yet, anyways. It will come to us eventually, when it is time, comfortably so. In the meantime, you’ll look out over the balcony railing of your little studio apartment uptown, the night air breathing clear, with a blanket wrapped around your legs and Jeon Jeongguk by your side, unceasingly himself.

And that is everything you can ask for in this life and the next.

#bts #bts fluff #kpop fluff #jungkook fluff #kpop fanfiction #kpop scenario #bts au #verses and vibes #outroshooky #guksheart

[actuallybakermeggi]

Definitely Dessert Line

Claynoli - cannoli stuffed with fresh italian cream with your choice of topping. Sure to bring a smile to your face much like the man they are named after.

The Fucker - Fudgy Guinness Brownies with Whiskey Caramel Glaze topped with gold flakes. Just tell us to “give me that gold”

Stardusted Donuts - Traditional yeast donuts topped with a galaxy glaze and edible star glitter. Ask for an ice cream sandwich to make it out of this world

White as a Ghost Cheesecake - Nelly’s favorite traditional cheesecake. Top it with your favorite fruit compote, caramel, or chocolate. It’s to die for.

Toasty Buns - Hot Cross Buns. Tender and aromatic buns filled with spices and currants, topped with a red iced X. You’ll be racing to finish these.

Bunny Special - Carrot Cake cupcakes, with smooth icing and topped with white chocolate bunny butts. Showing off his best asset.

Daddy’s Maple Creme Brulee - the best cream in town with the perfect glaze. So good you’ll be begging for some pancakes after.

Hat Trick - Ube (Purple Yam) Milkshake topped with a chocolate hat and marshmallow Cheshire tail. It will transfer you to another world.

Mera-line - Chocolate Sea Salt Madeline. The shell shaped cookies have the best of both worlds. Much like Mera they are sweet and salty.

America’s Ass - because his ass is as American as this Apple Pie. Available in full size and mini. Order it ala mode. Grab yourself a piece of this ass.

Hal’s Country Cobbler - Mini peach cobbler served ala mode to cool you down on those hot hot days or if he has been running around with his shirt off again. 

Pillow Prince Cookies - Lemon cookies as soft and fluffy as your favorite pillow. Have them with your best friend in bed for optimal enjoyment

Antoni’s Crepes - Vanilla bean crepes filled with peaches and cream. Sure to hit the right spot.

Brendon’s Baked Brownies AKA Triple B - Fudgy medicated brownies. You’ll be having high hopes after this treat. 

Winter’s Frozen Popcorn - White Chocolate covered popcorn with black drizzle and red sprinkles. You’ll flip for this dessert.

Bejeweled Cake - Berry Icebox Cake adorned with Pink Sugar Diamonds. 

Ransom’s Eat Shit Macaroons - Chocolate macaroons piled high adorned with eyes and a smile. 

Nick’s Cream Horns -- Delicious flaky pastry horns filled with white cream. Sure to hit the right notes.

#definitelybakermeggi menu #greatest hits

[petri808]

How We Got Here

The complete story from Hak/Yona Week 2018 in 1 post.  9K Words 

The battle over Kouka kingdom was finally over and while back at Hiryuu Castle, Yona and Hak reflect on their lives while awaiting the next step of their journey to begin.  This story starts off at the present but jumps back through time in a progression of age before coming back to it; Hak & Yona POV’s.  Some portions are taken from the anime/manga while others are totally made up.  

~~~XXX~~~

It had been 3 years since Yona or Hak had been forced to flee and now they were back at Hiryuu Castle surrounded by their friends, supporters, and the Generals of the 4 other tribes of Kouka Kingdom in the great meeting hall.  Anyone related to the assassination of Emperor Il were either dead or in prison awaiting their punishment.  

But to move swiftly towards reestablishing a sense of normalcy and peace in their kingdom, the Generals immediately approve to reinstate Yona as the Queen.  However, according to their laws, the Kingdom could not be ruled solely by a woman and so it was necessary for her to be married, and soon.  

“My husband has already been selected,” Yona states matter of fact, “Hak will be the King.  Does anyone disprove of my choice?”

The four generals look at each other and it’s Tae-Woo who speaks first.  “We already figured that out, so when’s the wedding?”  The crowd snickers and cheers.

“Little miss,” Zeno speaks up, “might I suggest a month from now?  That should be enough time for preparations to be made and enough time for guests to travel here.”

“That’s true,” she taps her chin, “because I would like to invite Captain Gi-Gan, and Princess Kouren, and Princess Tao, and…”

“We get it,” Geun-Tae laughs heartily, “if there are no objections from the other Generals, I move to set the coronation and wedding to be held one month from today.”  No one objects…

~~xx~~

For as long as he could remember, Hak’s grandfather would drag him to Hiryuu Castle for visits, some time’s lasting days, other times a few weeks at a stretch to train the Sky Tribe’s soldiers or for other official duties as the General of the Wind Tribe.  At first, he didn’t understand why, considering it wasn’t necessary for him to be there, but when he’d question it, was simply advised to do as he was told and to go keep the Princess company.  

They were close in age, she being 2 years younger than he was, but she would often get on his nerves.  Yona could be a spoiled brat and yet other times, sweet and caring.  She’d want to play games, then throw a tantrum if she lost.  She was good at playing the cutesy act to get what she wanted and most of the time he would give in, but not always…

~  

Stalking the young Princess, Hak, crept around the bushes he knew his friend was hiding behind ready to make his move.  The young boy of 7 grinned, as he sees her crouched into a ball and reaches out…  “Gotcha!”

“Ahhh!” Yona jumps up, turning around at both the sound and the way her friend’s fingers jabbed at her sides.  “Hak!” screaming at the boy who surprised her from behind.  “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Then Y-you shoulda…” clutching his stomach as he doubled over in laughter at her flushed and puffed out cheeks, “…hid better!”  

“Omph!” pushing him onto his butt, “you’re so mean to me,” flailing her arms at him in exaggerated swings.

Hak looks up a bit surprised at Yona’s burst of physical retaliation, “Princesses shouldn’t be hitting people.”

“And Princes shouldn’t be mean to Princesses,” crossing her arms in a huff.

“Then it’s good I ain’t a Prince,” he stands up, brushing off his pants with a smug look, “Princess.”

“Oooh, y-youuu!” shaking she’s so angry.  “I really… hate you sometimes!”  Yona storms away furious at Hak for making fun of her while he just laughs even harder.

“No, you don’t!” he calls after her.  “You’ll be begging me to play again!”

Too bad for the young boy that his grandfather had seen the ending of their argument and after a long-winded chastising and a few good cracks, dragged him to Yona’s room to apologize…

~~

Being cooped up behind the walls of the castle, Yona didn’t have any other children her age to play with or talk to so visits by her cousin and or Hak were really the only times she got to just be a kid.  Her relationship with the young Wind Tribe boy was a love hate relationship, sometimes he was nice to her but most of the time loved to tease and toy with her and it drove her crazy.  

She would complain to her father, but he would just smile and tell her to be nice.  Hak was a boy and boys were often rough and tumble, it was just their way, but he meant no harm.  Yona would still whine and her father reminded her that him being around would always keep her safe and sound.  When she asked why, that was how she learned Hak was training to take over as General someday and that information did make her feel a little better…

~

Yona woke up with a start in the darkened room.  It was another nightmare but like always, she could never remember the dream, only the feelings of abandonment or being left all alone, were all that remained in its wake.  Getting out of bed, she walks to another part of the castle, seeking out the only friend she had.  “Hak,” kneeling next to his bed, pushing on his shoulder, “Hak?”

“UghHuh?” the boy turns over seeing the Princess sitting there, he rubs his eyes.  “What are you doing in my room?”

“I had another nightmare,” she sniffles and wipes the drying tears from her cheek, “I don’t want to be alone, can I stay here tonight?”

Conflicted at how he should respond.  He was pretty sure that it was not proper for a girl, let alone a Princess to be sleeping on the same bed as him, but if he told her no and she complained to his grandfather, would he be the one who gets yelled at for making her cry?  “Um, I guess so,” closing his eyes to go back to sleep.

“Thank you.”  Yona slips under the covers, lying on her back next to the boy.  It was a little weird to be sleeping this close to Hak, but she also felt safer, like he was going to scare away her bad dreams.  She turns her head and notices he’s already closed his eyes.

“Go to sleep,” he mumbles.

How did he know she was looking at him?  “C-could I hold your hand?”

“Ugh,” he grumbles but seeks out her hand and grasps it, “happy now?”

“Yes,” blushing as he squeezes slightly, his hand was so warm, his touch, gentle despite his grumpy attitude, and yes, it made her feel a lot better.  After that first time, Yona would often seek Hak out whenever nightmares plagued her…

~

As they grew up, it became harder and harder for Hak to be around Yona.  Call it adolescent hormones, but every time she was close by, no longer was she just the childhood friend he’d play games with or make snow angels with during winter. Still a spoiled, whiny brat, but as each year went by, her beauty grew along with the feelings bubbling inside him. Problem was, he also knew her heart belonged to another.

It didn’t help that his grandfather would often make comments or not so subtle hints as to whom he’d love to see together.  Pushing, dragging Hak to visit Hiryuu Castle, forcing him to stay for long periods of time under the guise that Yona needed a friend. ‘Get used to it,’ Mundok would say, because soon enough Hak will take his place as General and be one of the protectors of this empire, and of her.

But adding fuel to that fire, he is asked of by Emperor Il to become Yona’s bodyguard.  Was the Emperor conspiring with his grandfather to drive him into an early grave? Hak had declined but Emperor Il was not deterred, ‘think about it,’ was the response as he walked away.  What was there to think about?  Yona didn’t need a bodyguard, she needed a baby sitter!

Speak of the devil but who came running up to complain about the Fire General’s son, claiming he was harassing and trying to court her.  First off, Hak found it amusing, second why did she come to him, as he yelled at her to go tell her cousin and maybe he would help her before skulking away.  Okay that response had a tinge of jealousy, but he knew the clueless girl wouldn’t figure it out.

This was why he told the Emperor no, behaving professionally around the Princess always went right out the window, and any other person would be punished if they spoke to her in that manner.  But, even after she apologized and bribed him with fruit, that only made his head spin more.  No, what he really needed was a place to hide and calm down…

‘Tae-Jun is at it again…’  Hak closes his eyes trying to tune out the escalating argument.  He hears a couple of guards talking nearby, that’s the Fire Generals son, he’s grabbing the Princess, we can’t do anything against him, someone go get Emperor Il…  ‘Damn it… I need to leave it alone otherwise from now on I’ll always…  Exhale.’  The memory of her apology…  He hears Tae-Jun call her cute and that he wants to touch her…  

Hak stands up.

“No!  Stop!” Yona cries out for help, desperately trying to pull away from the older boy...  

It was hard enough to listen to, but the moment he sees Tae-Jun being handsy and rough with Yona, Hak is even more furious.  He knows that kind of reaction would be no good, so as he swiftly strides over, formulating the only plan he could think of, or rather use the one emotion she always created in him.

“That’s enough,” Hak swoops in, pulling Yona away from the man’s grasp.  “Who gave you permission to touch My Princess?”  Both Yona and Tae-Jun are shaken.  “The Princess and I made our life-long pledge to each other when we were kids.  Right Princess?” cuddling her close and teasing her hand, “What’s the matter Princess?  Don’t be so shy.”

She laughs nervously with an honest blush, partially caressing his chin, “Not in front of other people.”  And when she is asked if she loves Hak, responds with a straight face clutching at his arm, “Yes, I love him.  I really love him.”  Now Hak is the one blushing in surprise at how serious she sounded, almost wishing it had been true.

But Tae-Jun refuses to believe it could true, stating his own position with the assumption this boy was nothing special, and demanding to know who he even was.  “I am the Wind Tribe’s next General, Son Hak,” he asserts with more authority in his tone.  But, even after Hak states that the Emperor himself asked him to be her exclusive bodyguard, Tae-Jun challenges him and pulls a sword.  Thank the gods that the Emperor showed up at that moment and forced the Fire tribe’s son to back down and make a hasty retreat.  

Now Emperor Il turns to address the two kids now parted and standing several feet away from each other, questioning their true relationship. Of course, they both deny it, Yona with just denial and Hak his usual indifference that he thought the idea would keep the suitor at bay.  Now with Hak in a vulnerable state of mind, Emperor Il asks again, and the boy finally accepts the position formally, promising to always protect Yona.

Hak reflects on that afternoon later in the evening when he is all alone.  Despite their protestations, did the Emperor now believe that his daughter and the future Wind Tribe’s general may have feelings for each other?  He couldn’t tell by Emperor Il’s expression what he thought since he always maintained a smile.  But one would think that if he didn’t want Yona to be so close to someone like him, he wouldn’t have offered the position again, right?  

‘Ugh,’ this was exactly why he didn’t want it in the first place!  Yona’s presence always flustered him, made him loose his focus, and his mind.  The first time the Emperor had asked it was just him and his grandfather present but when Yona was around, he didn’t think twice about accepting.  It was bad enough that the girl he loved, was in love with another man, and now he had to live in the castle, watching over her.  Yup, he had lost his mind alright.

Hak flopped onto his bed with his arm over his face, grateful that his grandfather had returned home shortly after hearing the news.  The old man had been over the moon that his grandson was getting even closer to the royal family, not just because of nobility gains, but simply because it warmed his old heart.  Yona was like a grand-daughter to him, and to know that Hak would be there to protect her made him feel so much better.

Not that it made is grandson feel happy.  Hak had been trying to bury his 15-year-old’s emotions and hormones for the Princess and now, that was going to be ten times harder than it had ever been before.  

Once he had taken the position at the castle, and pledged to protect Yona, that promise became both his curse and his salvation; if he could manage to keep his emotions in check.  Sarcasm became his way of dealing with the Princess.  Hak knew she hated it, but what would be his alternative? Admit to being desperately in love with her and when she turns him down shattering his heart into a million pieces, run away to commit suicide, maybe jump off a cliff or run his own blade through his chest? Sounds drastic, yes, but a possibility when you know deep down there will never be another woman for you like her.

This situation was the ultimate torture that you could ever put any man through and not expect them to go insane.  Every day, week, year that goes by and you are forced by your title and position to be around the one person that your heart desires and the one person you believe you’ll never have.  To sit back and watch them fawning over another that wasn’t you, have to listen to them talk about it, ask you about it and why, because you are the only one they’ve told this secret to.  

Hak told her that he would be happy for them, would serve them for as long as he lived, and said that enough to where he had tricked himself into believing it too.  Her cousin wasn’t a bad guy, a little strange and airy, but they had all grown up together, played together on the castle grounds, and if it made Yona happy, then that was all he wanted for her.  

Most days he could keep his heart in check, and then there were days that the cliff sounded like a better alternative.  It was like being in an out of control carriage on a very hilly road and you wonder should I jump now, then talk yourself into believing that it will eventually get better.  He wasn’t sure what Yona saw him as, maybe a big brother by the way she behaved around him, but when she would act all cute and innocent, say things that could be misconstrued…  Yeah, those were the days he wanted to jump…  

~~

After Hak helps Yona to get on her cousin’s horse, she makes a comment about his handling of women and that he must be entertaining many at home… “Don’t get the wrong idea,” Soo-Won tells her.  “We’ve been discussing who I’m going to be engaged to.  But, let’s stop talking about this, I can’t talk to you about this sort of thing.”

‘What!!!  And he’s still treating me like I’m some little kid!’   “Well,” trying not to seem flustered, “I’m about to be engaged too.”

“Huh?  To whom?”

“To Hak.”   ‘Did that just come out my mouth!  And Hak needs to stop staring at me like I’ve gone crazy, even if it’s true!’

“That’s great!  Congratulations...”

Once the horseback riding is over, and her cousin leaves them alone, Yona is sulking with Hak standing nearby.  “To think he’d believe such a lie,” she drops her head onto the railing.

Hak mumbles to himself, “You’re the one who’s cruel. And annoying…”  She has no idea how much those kinds of statements hurt him…

~

“But father this hair!  Why is it so red?  Even my mother had flowing black hair.  It makes me look weird.”

“It’s not true.  Right Hak?”

“Yes, Emperor Il, nobody has said that the Princess’ hair is strange.  But if I may be so bold to say, there’s definitely something wrong with her head.”

“Shut up servant!  Father do something about this guy!  Even though he’s my servant, he’s so arrogant!”

~

From all the work she put into preparing for her cousins visit, being harassed by Hak at every turn, being told by her father that she couldn’t marry who she wanted, scared by some strange stalker, and being somewhat rejected by the person she loves, Yona retreats into her room for the evening. She was confused, angry, conflicted, and frankly tired that everyone was treating her like a little girl, ‘I’m turning 16 in less than 5 days, I’m not a little girl anymore!’  Flopping onto her bed, part of her wants to cry, maybe scream, definitely scream but that would only bring people running to check on her.

What her father had told her had scared her as well, being the Princess, she would always be a target so whomever was around her could get hurt too.  Could she have been seeing things when she thought there was someone following her? Maybe her father’s words were still messing with her mind?  Yona curls her legs up, this was easier to deal with when she was younger, because whenever she was feeling scared she’d run to Hak and crawl into bed with him cause he would hold her hand and make her feel safer.  

‘Hak!’  Speaking of that man, ‘how dare he say I had a strange head?!  He’s always making fun of me, teasing me, taunting me…  Why is he so mean to me when we’re supposed to be friends!  I just don’t understand it.  I mean, he’s always been blunt and never holds back what he says, but the older we get the worse it became and now he’s such a sarcastic ass!

Ugh and now Soo-Won thinks we’re engaged no matter how I tried to say otherwise.  Okay, I guess I can see how it seems believable because Hak’s always with me, but that’s because it’s his job!  Great, that makes two men that think Hak and I are in a relationship, not that I care about what Tae-Jun thinks…  That’s totally not the point!  He didn’t even try to disagree when I said it, just stood there with his mouth hanging open catching flies!  Where was his stupid comments when I needed it?!’

She sighs, and closes her eyes, there was nothing more she could do tonight but hope that things will change...

~

In all his short 18 years, through fighting, political bickering, and battles with his own heart, never had anger or pain risen to the level of pure hatred, and all he could see was red as swords pointed at the girl he lived for.  It didn’t matter that these were soldiers he had fought with, trained, or that the man ordering their execution was the one betraying them all because in that moment, all that mattered was her.  The girl he had sworn to protect, she who held his heart, and more than his own life… he would kill for.  

Every, last one would die by his hand if need be, because Yona was the only one that mattered, the only thing so precious in his life that if she were to die here and now so would his soul, withering away like a dying flower in winter.  By the luck of the gods they still had at least one supporter and he managed to spirit the Princess away to the forest.  

“Princess Yona, do you need to take a short break?”

She sits down to rest.  “Hak, did Min-Soo die?  I wonder will I die too?  Will Soo-Won kill you too?”

“I’ll never hand my life over to that asshole.”

“Don’t die, Hak…” her eyes slowly closing, “because if you die, I will never forgive you…”

But now what?  As he watched the broken girl resting against the tree, Hak needed to focus on his survival instincts to get them through this, but his own heart was aching.  He loved Yona, but he thought he had loved Soo-Won too, and the Emperor.  He may have felt the Emperor Il was a little weak or naive but such a kind soul and to have been assassinated, in front of Yona.  ‘Leaving her all alone, you good for nothing King!’

Part of the aching was the guilt that he hadn’t done his job of protecting the castle.  The King had been killed and Yona was left unprotected.  Why hadn’t he investigated sooner when things started to seem uneasy around the grounds, the unsettling quiet that had descended.  ‘I promise you,’ he wipes her dirty, tear stained cheek, ‘one day we’ll be back at your castle…’        

‘Yona…’  The Princess was what he needed to worry about, especially since she had become a doll simply being led along with no mind of her own.  Told when to eat, to sleep.  If there were ever a time he was needed, it was now.  Hak clenched his fist.  Is this what Soo-Won had wanted?  Had he planned all along to draw her in close only to kill her and her father to take the throne by force?  

He was all she had in the world, the one semblance of normal still left in her life and he’ll do everything he can to protect the last of her innocence.

~~

“Fire at the Princess!”  Upon those uttered words Hak stepped in to block, taking an arrow to his back.

“Hak!!  Hak! Are you alright?!  Hak…”

“Please don’t concern yourself, it’s making me uncomfortable.” Leaping away, he takes her to a secluded bush.  “Hide here, and please stay perfectly still.”

“Hak,” seeing blood, “You’re bleeding.”  ‘He was injured protecting me…’  Yona waits but, overhears that they are going to kill Hak. She is torn as to what to do until she remembers why she left Fuuga…  It was wrong to expect Hak to always protect her, she needed to do something.

Rushing out of hiding she slams into the soldier aiming for Hak and confronts Tae-Jun with a renewed fire in her soul.  All the domino effect of pain that Soo-Won’s actions had started, and now seeing Hak, a man she had once thought invincible being struck down… Yona grabs a sword and frees her hair from Tae-Jun’s grip before rushing to confront the soldiers with Hak dangling from the cliff.

“Get Away From Hak!!” swinging at them.  He screams at her to run away but she refuses, clutching at his arms.  “No! Never!  Hak…  If you die I won’t forgive you!!”  Tears stream down, dripping onto his face and it stops his resistance, but as the soldiers close in they slip off the cliff… falling…

The next thing Yona knows, she is waking up in a house of some sort, bandaged.  “Who are you?” she asked the boy sitting next to her and is reminded of the cliff. ‘Cliff…  Hak!’  “Hak! Where is Hak?!”

As she listens to boy named Yoon prattle off Hak’s injuries, what he has done to try to mend him, and that tonight will be critical to see if he even survives, Yona prays.  “Please save him!”

“That’s what I’m doing…  Don’t you think that helping you is what I’m supposed to do?  You still haven’t given a single word of gratitude…” Yona sits glassy-eyed as Yoon berates her.  “…Have you ever even said a word of thanks to this guy?  Even though he goes this far to risk his life to protect you?”  Yona thanks Yoon and apologizes, but even with Ik-Su’s assurance that this wasn’t Hak’s time to die yet, it left her worried…

She awakens in the early morning hours to find Hak missing and in a panic runs into the forest searching for him but trips.  Sitting up, tears rushing down her face, he finds her screaming about him.  

“…You seem fine,” he smiles, “what happened?  Did you have a bad dream?”

But she was too furious with him to deal with his sarcasm.  “Even when you’ve been hurt badly you still over do it!  I thought you were going to die!  Please,” more tears pooling, “don’t just leave on your own!”  Wiping at her face, “You’re the only one that must be by my side…”

And she meant what she said.  It may still be selfish of her but Yona never wanted to be without Hak.  She knew she didn’t understand what was going on, her naivety meant she needed him more than he needed her just to survive but frankly, it would feel strange not to have him around anymore…

~~

“Hak!”

“An earthquake!”  Hak jumps to his feet as the wall of rock tumbled down, blocking the entrance to the tunnel.  ‘Crap!’ He had heard her call out his name seconds before the collapse.  True and ultimate fear gripped his entire mind and body, no soul at the realization that Yona was trapped behind the cave in of solid rock.  ‘No, No, NO!’  This can’t be happening, after all they’ve been through till now for her to die from suffocation because of these backwards thinking mountain folk!  

Damn it, if, no, when she’s safe and sound she’s never to leave his side again!  He was an idiot to listen to her commands, this girl was great at getting herself into danger and he just let her do it this time like the good servant that he was. Hak pounded his fists on the boulders, dug stone after stone, swung his spear at it only to be laughed at by the unyielding force of nature.  

He prayed, begged to the gods, ‘Please don’t take her away…’  to the Emperor to bring her back to him.  He couldn’t lose her, just couldn’t even stand the thought of not having Yona by his side.  She was finally starting to grow, standing up, becoming the Princess he knew laid dormant inside, and his promise to get her home again, it wasn’t fulfilled yet!  Even after all the harrowing events that had led them to this point, this was the first time that Hak couldn’t breathe.

Why couldn’t he foresee these kinds of events?  Why can’t he seem to protect her when she needs him the most, first at the castle, the cliffs, and now here?  All he could ever do right was deal with the aftermath and consequences.  Yes, he’ll find a way to save her and he didn’t give a damn if anyone tried to stop him. He’d cut them down too.    

Hak unleashes his anger at the stone as soon as the villagers tell him where to dig and by god he was going to get to her in time!  ‘Hold on Princess!’  It was like an inhuman strength fell into his body as he bashed at the rock, swinging and destroying the wall that separated him from her and his friends. No matter if it was a few inches or several feet of rock, it would bow to his will.      

And when he finally broke through, the relief at seeing her unharmed let all the anguish drain away.  His ailing and aching body was heaving from the extraneous work, but it was over.  “Princess!” Hak drops the axe, rushing up and grabbing her, wrapping his body around her tiny frame holding so tightly she couldn’t move if she wanted to.  He didn’t even have the strength left to cry.  She was safe, that was all that mattered.

Each day that passed by on their journey through the Kouka Kingdom, she noticed that the way Hak was behaving slowly began to change.  He was always the sarcastic pain, teasing her and annoying her whenever the opportunity presented itself but still, the thing that confused her was his clinginess.  In the past, it seemed he did anything he could not to touch her or be too close and yet now, sometimes she couldn’t get rid of him.

Sure, after the incident at the Blue Dragon’s village and his promise to stick by her side, it made sense, but it had begun before that. And what about the way he touched her, grabbed her?  Like at the entrance of Fuuga when he had asked if she was ready to pay with her body, though she had no idea what he meant.  Or how about the cliff’s when he’d pinned her against the wall and she thought he was going to kiss her.  

The list could go on and on and slowly she began to understand what some of it meant, or at least the weird feelings it was triggering in her. In Awa, as he licked the honey from her hand, looking as if he was enjoying it way more than just for the sweet taste… Her body heated up and maybe deep down she was enjoying it too.  No, she shakes her head, Hak was just her friend, someone that protected her.  He was staying close just to make sure she was safe, that’s all.

Yona couldn’t fully grasp why he was behaving this way.  The others would sometimes make comments about it, they, even strangers asking, assuming she and Hak were together.  But she would deny it, and so would he, most of the time.  She remembered his reaction to Kija trying to pay him to leave, furious that the guy dared to separate them.  But things only worsened after Jae-Ha joined their little travelling band.  That flirty pervert really got on Hak’s nerves anytime he got too close to her.

But the one thing she did understand was if this was his way of showing he cared for her life and for her safety, at least it was comforting. She knew that no matter what lay in their path, nor battle they needed to fight, Hak would always be there to protect her.  And if that meant putting up with his bizarre behavior, well then it was a small price to pay.  

Okay, and maybe it wasn’t so bad to have his attention focused on her.  She may not know the ways of the world yet, but she was starting to see the way that women looked at him, or even looked at her with jealousy.  

~

Hak was getting tired of all of Jae-ha’s teasing.  Yes, he gets it, everyone can see how he feels about the Princess, except apparently her, but it’s something he’s been dealing with for… let’s just say too long.  It was all complicated, they had grown up together, practically their entire lives spent around each other so maybe it was simply a matter of convenience that he had fallen for her while she on the other hand still couldn’t get over her pining for the man who had tried to kill her.

That was a lie.  There were other pretty girls around him, willing to throw themselves at his feet but none of them had ever gotten him to turn his head in their direction.  He didn’t even know why he had fallen for Yona in the first place.  A childhood felicity turned crush became a deep seeded yearning for the Princess even though most days, she acted like such a spoiled brat.  Yona was beautiful, no doubt, probably the most lovely female ever to grace their kingdom.  

God help him every time Yona said something that could be misconstrued like oh I’ll just nestle closer to you if it’s cold, if only she knew what such words could do to a man.  But he couldn’t get upset over it when she was saying it with the childlike innocence that made her the sweetheart that she was.  He wished she could understand without changing that side of her.    

On the flip side, as much as he loved the purity, as her courage grew, and her individuality and strength increased, have mercy, this only served to drive his arousal up tenfold.  It was getting harder to hold back those feelings.  Hak was a man of action after all, and it only made sense that such métier would peak his interest, especially coming from her. And what he wanted, was to help her see her dreams through of serving her people.  To become the true ruler of Kouka with the grace that her father had instilled in her coupled with the fire her ancestor bestowed upon her by the Gods. A balance, a force from heaven so to speak to restore order and peace in their lands.

It might have been fate that brought them together.  The orphaned boy who because of who had adopted him led to his meeting the Princess.  A boy who became a general and tribal leader with the skills worthy of being deemed the protector of said Princess.  Did the Gods know she would need someone to guide her, care for her until she was ready to meet her destiny?  If one believed Ik-su, their lives had been pre-destined long before their births.

Either way, be it providence or simply luck of the draw, what was done was done and it boiled down to one simple fact, this boy was in love with this girl.

~

Yona wasn’t sure at what point Hak was no longer just her friend or bodyguard but something else entirely because there was no dramatic shift in their relationship, at least not one single point in time that she could say, there, that’s when it happened.  But it did change during their travels and by the time they had made it to Shisen, Yona was seeing him in a different light, one familiar and yet so completely unlike the feeling she was used to.

With Soo-Won it was almost as if she had convinced herself of being in love with him.  Fawning in a juvenile longing over a boy that really did nothing to reciprocate her feelings only treating her like the little sister he never had.  Maybe she had swayed her heart towards him, he being the only other royal she knew, and when you grow up being told you needed to marry a royal, it made sense to latch on to a convenient choice.  

Hak on the other hand was always around too, just as much and more than Soo-Won.  Why hadn’t she considered him?  Well, he wasn’t a royal as he had so bluntly pointed out in their formative years, but he had always been in line for General, the highest position in a tribe, wouldn’t that be similar, she had once thought so.  

Of course, he was always picking on her, making fun of her or teasing her…  but then again…  he still looked after her, made sure she was okay, safe, even kept her secrets.  Hak would whine and then do what she wanted, they would fight and then make up again.  Neither seemingly capable of turning the other away.  And, he was the one person she would always run to, even as a child…

She didn’t want to admit he had been right, what he had said at the gates of Fuuga, that once they became fugitives and he was no longer the General of the Wind tribe, he had no obligation to protect her.  She had forced herself onto him, but he could have refused, slipping away somewhere safe and sound, and yet he continued to put his life on the line for her.  

And now look at the situation, the one she had first given her heart to, killed her father and ordered her execution, but the one who deserved her heart, who showed time and time again how much he had earned it, was the one she hadn’t chosen.  Until now.  Her soul warmed to the realization that Hak was the one who truly deserved her heart and she was ready, at least on the inside, to give it to him.

But now she wasn’t sure what to do about these newly found emotions.  She wasn’t ready to tell him how she felt yet, when they had so many other things to focus on, like surviving.  Yona knew she was already a burden on Hak, and no, this just wasn’t the right time. Eventually she’ll have to, when she was ready, maybe, even if it had to wait until their Kingdom had been restored.

~~

She knew it was necessary for them to go their separate ways, it would be faster in order to stop the attack on Xing, and it’s not like she wanted to be away from Hak, nor would he like the idea either.  If something were to happen to her he would no doubt tear this Kingdom apart in his grief.  But she couldn’t take him in case she ran into the one person she knew Hak wanted dead.  

“Hak, you go ahead over to the wind tribe first.  I will slow-down Soo-Won’s, the Sky tribe’s army’s.”

“You know you’re not going anywhere without me, right?” Min-Soo offers to accompany her and Algira but that isn’t good enough.  He reaches out, “Wait a moment, you think I’m going to let you go alone?!”

“Just go.  The Wind tribe is surely waiting for you Hak.  I might not be able to do much, but I’m going to try doing what I can so that I won’t have any regrets.  And, then we’ll go and meet with the four dragons, Yoon, and Ao.  Okay?” smiling big.  “I’ll just be gone for a little bit!”

“I,” lowering his head, “understand.  I’ll be waiting.”

“Hak…” clutching at his hood, Yona pulls him down for a quick kiss. Hak is so surprised that he can only stare down at her wide eyed, even after it ends, his mind blank.  “Well,” she blushes, stunned with herself, and turns to leave, “I’ll be going now…”

As soon as she was in the carriage heading to seek out Tae-Jun’s assistance, Yona puts her head down to mull over what she just did. Something in her body propelled her forward before her mind could even process why, she had reached out and pulled Hak into that kiss.  What was she thinking when she saw how sad he looked, that in case she never saw him again, he would hopefully know how she felt?  That she didn’t want to leave, and it was a promise to come back to him?  

In all the years she had been in love with Soo-Won never once had she even considered acting upon her emotions and yet today with Hak, she had done just that.  The inclination to want to feel his lips against hers flowed so smoothly and easily that after it was done, and her brain had caught up with her actions, only then did it hit her.  ‘Oh my god I kissed Hak!’  

What was Hak thinking now?  She hadn’t stuck around to find out but based on the stupefied look on his face, his mind had probably blanked out.  He was always the one to tease her, touching her, and doing other perverted things, but when the act was committed on him, he reacted strangely.  What if he didn’t like it?  He had pulled back didn’t he, ‘maybe he’s gonna be mad at me now!’ Clutching her face in horror, ‘No! I need to focus right now but, please don’t let him be mad at me because I…’  

Why was it so hard to admit it, to get the words, ‘I want to say out of my mouth?’  Maybe that was part of the reason for the kiss, to act without words, to convey how much she wanted him to always be with her, in any way, shape, or form, for the rest of their lives…        

~~

“Hak I’m sorry about yesterday!”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m sorry…  I overheard your conversation with the people of the Wind tribe.  I’ve always felt like I stole you away from the Wind tribe, and what’s more you have, you have a fiancée.”

“Fiancée?  Ahh, you mean Ayame.  I see, that’s why you were pushing me to go back, and said that stuff about returning my freedom?”

“Yeah but, I don’t think that you’re unneeded or anything like that, it’s just that, you’re very precious to me, so, stay with me…”

‘I can’t take this anymore!’  “What’s with that, I told you, didn’t I?  Many times!  I won’t leave you!  Like hell I’d leave you!!  And that’s not because I feel obligated not to.  Get that through your head already!!  The place I go home to is here!!”

“I’m sorry…”

“I accompanied you, was overwhelmed by your strength and passion, and decided to live for you.  The pride of serving someone…  The one who taught me that was you!!”

“Hak…” wiping away the tears.  “You might have been exasperated by all the things I’ve said but, can I ask you one thing?”

“Yes?”

“What will you do about Ayame?”

“Ugh,” running his hand over his face.  “Look I don’t like being at the center of misunderstandings, so I’ll just say this…” Facing her directly once more.  “The one I like is you damn it!!!”

“Eh?”

“Don’t ‘Eh’ me!!  I said Ayame has a partner already.  I like you and I don’t have a fiancée goddammitt!!  I'm tired out for today!!  Have you understood everything?”

“Y-yes…”

“Great!  Ahhhh! Much better.”  Hak walks away standing tall and feeling lighter than he ever has after releasing all that weight from his heart leaving a bewildered and bright red Yona sitting there to process what just happened.

After wolfing down dinner, Hak settles onto his bedroll and closes his eyes.  He felt so much more relaxed that the burden of hiding his feelings for Yona would no longer be necessary.  It was out in the open, with witnesses, she heard him loud and clear, and it looked like she understood every word he had spouted.  Sigh, he had buried those emotions down for so long…  Would he be able to carry on as if nothing had changed?  

He still wasn’t sure what her opinion was or how she may feel now, even that kiss back in Saika, was there a meaning behind it?  Yona has kissed him so smoothly, casually…  He wanted to be angry that she had pulled such a thing on him but, it also didn’t make sense since she wasn’t one to act in that manner.  How many times over the years he would tell her to just confess to Soo-Won how she felt and yet she was too embarrassed.  

How, when did the Princess develop the courage to up and kiss him?  He could ask her, but chances were greater that she would clam up in embarrassment again. That girl, so innocent and childlike and yet for all his physical strength she was so much stronger than he. In a relatively short time, he watched her go from broken to a force of the heavens and it only made him want to be with her, in whatever capacity he could take, for the rest of their lives…            

~~

Things couldn’t be more dangerous as they were right now for Yona and the growing opposition to Soo-Won’s position.  It seemed as his master plans slowly fell apart and the Princess’ supporters grew in both number and title, so too did the attacks in order to maintain the power he had taken by force.  And this latest battle was no different, with the resistance force defeating and pushing back the royal army but not without casualties… including Yona.

She had been hurt before in fights, but never this grave, and that left everyone on high alert for if the Princess were to die, so was the hope of saving Kouka Kingdom.  Yoon did his best assuring their group that she was by no means at deaths door, but it would be tenuous for some time, and that her unconsciousness was due to her bodies attempt at healing.  And so, they waited, the dragons taking turns guarding her tent and their campsite, Jae-ha, surprisingly falling back into a leadership role like he served in Awa. It helped to keep their spirits high, and their progress from slipping but Hak was beside himself and refused to leave Yona’s bedside.  

Two days later, Yona finally opens her eyes and turns her head to see Hak sleeping next to her, still clutching her hand, and a weak smile crosses her face.  All she can tell is it must be nighttime and if it wasn’t for the moonlight, Yona may not have known it was even him.  Who was she kidding, sighing in her head, who else would it be?  Slipping her hand from his grasp, “Hak?” she whispers caressing his face with the small amount of strength she can muster.

His brows furrow and eyes pop open.  “Princess?!”  Hak’s so happy to see she’s awake, he forgets himself and hugs to her prone body, repeating her name over and over as the tears he had been holding back finally stream down his face.  

“Hak…” she repeats, cradling and caressing the back of his head as tears of her own pool in her eyes, “it’s okay Hak…”

“No!” sobbing aloud, “it’s not okay!  You shouldn’t have gotten hurt, this is my fault, I didn’t protect you…”

“You know that’s not true,” voice soft and serene, “Hak you can’t be everywhere, I should have protected myself better.”

“Yes, it is.  I know Zeno did his best, but there were too many attackers, so I shouldn’t have left your side,” clutching at the bedding and burying his face deeper into the fabric. “What if…  There’s no way I could go on if I lost you…”

Yona’s heart skips and her body flushes, but unlike before, a sense of peace washes over her.  She stops caressing his head, “Hak, please look at me…”  A few seconds pass, but he finally lifts his face to look at her and what he sees is such a tranquil expression, it calms him instantly.  She smiles and places her hand against his cheek, “I love you.”

“Prin…cess…”  

Like a repeat of their first, Yona clasps both of his cheeks and pulls the dazed man closer and settles her lips against his in a soft kiss, repeating those three little words upon their release.  Hak props himself up and rolls to his side, still stupefied, touching where her lips had left their lingering warmth.  Yona lightly giggles at seeing her tough man acting like a confused little boy.  “Hak, you’re not dreaming,” taking hold of his hand, “I said I love you, I have for awhile now, I just couldn’t get the words to come out.”

He looks at her, “You waited until you almost died to tell me this!” Face palm, “I swear you enjoy torturing me.”

Pouting, “I do not,” growing into a grin, “well maybe sometimes, and that’s only because you do it to me!”

Laughing, “we’re both kind of idiots aren’t we,” sigh, “you know if we hadn’t been pushed out of Hiryuu Castle, I would have taken my feelings to the grave.”

“And I would have never realized that it’s you who I should have given my heart to, not him.  I don’t know if I deserve you, but Hak, you definitely deserve me, a thousand times over for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Princess…”

“Yona.”

“Y-you want me to call you Yona?  But…”

“Hak, if we do take back Hiryuu Castle, and if I regain my position, will you… be my King?”

“You’re serious?” she nods.  “You can’t be…  I’m not King material...”

“Oh, so would you rather I marry someone else?”

“No.”

“Well then, I guess you have no choice.”

“Why do I feel like I was just blackmailed?”              

“You don’t need to decide now, Hak…”

“Idiot, of course I’d marry you!  King or not, I don’t want anyone else to have you!”

“Then it’s settled,” patting his arm, “now go back to sleep.” She closes her eyes, a smile on her face.

Hak narrows his eyes, ‘this little…’  “Yona?”

“Hmm,” peaking at him.  “Did…” before she can say anything more, Hak had swooped in and crashed his lips roughly against hers, gaining a small squeak out of the young woman. After the initial shock, Yona melts into the kiss, lifting her head to add pressure, and her fingers threading into his hair while Hak cups the back of her neck to lend support and keeps himself propped up to her side.  

A deep rumble in his chest breaks the still of the air, to be answered by a purr of her own and when they finally break from the kiss, Hak keeps his forehead leaning against hers.  “Should we tell the others?” she asks quietly.

“We can worry about that tomorrow, but since it was droopy-eye’s turn to guard, he probably already knows.”

They hear a ‘Tch’ coming from outside and Yona giggles, “You’re probably right.”  

“Now,” he gives her a small peck, “time for you to get more rest,” settling on his side and closing his eyes.  “Good night, Yona.”

“Good night,” yawn, “Hak.”  As she closes her eyes, Yona utters a small prayer of thanks to the Gods for the angel beside her and for some reason, she knows everything is going to be alright.  

“Yona?” there is a knock at her door, “Are you ready to go down to the temple?”  Her mind is jostled out of the memories she had just been daydreaming about, their childhood, all the struggles, how they’d finally overcame their hearts…

“Oh, yes I am Yoon. Is Hak on his way?”

“Yes, Jae-Ha is escorting him.”

“Alright, I’ll be out in a minute…”

And now here they were, about to be married, a new Queen and her King.  Everything was ready for the wedding and coronation ceremonies happening that afternoon.  Guests had been arriving over the past week, all the food was being prepared, flowers and decorations set up.  But as excited as they both were for their future together, Yona and Hak were also nervous.  They each sit in separate rooms, their kimono’s on, Yona’s hair and makeup done, now all that remained was to wait until they were called upon.

This had been such a long journey for the two, if you counted back to the beginning.  So many memories stemming over their lifetimes starting as childhood friends and ending at the beginning of their adulthood. Good times, bad times, hardships, and times of happiness.  And while they sat in their rooms, awaiting the next step of this journey, the memories of how they got here flowed through like an endless river.  

Their childhoods filled with playing on the castle grounds, oh how Hak loved to tease her when they played, like that time he scared the hell out of her during hide and seek, and yet whenever she was scared, he was also the one she ran to for comfort.  It wasn’t until she was older that she realized how improper it may have been to sleep next to him, but at the time, if it helped the nightmares to go away, so it didn’t seem like that big of a deal.

It must have been inevitable that her father would choose Hak to be her bodyguard considering they were often with each other, and even from a young age, he had proven himself to be a skilled warrior worthy of protecting a Princess.  But if you counted the fact they also bickered constantly, no, back then it didn’t make a whole lot of sense to her and it was much later after the promise was made that she found out, Hak had originally turned down the position.  If he had said no once, what made him say yes, the second time?  Had that encounter with Tae-Jun made such a big impact on his decision?

All Yona knew, was that if Hak was a pain before that moment, she could have sworn his sarcasm and teasing only escalated after it, and it drove her crazy.  He was so quick witted, making fun of her looks, her size, her intellect, nothing got past him, and wasn’t afraid to say things even in front of her own father, the Emperor!  She had no idea why he would act that way.  Well okay, so maybe she fueled some of it, taking advantage and using him for her own devises.  Hind sight is easier to help one see why things may have happened a certain way.

But if there was one thing she was sure of now, is that when she needed him most, Hak was the only one to take her side, no questions asked, with a fierce loyalty that was unmatched even by the Dragons born to protect her.  That night of her father’s death, and when her innocence was shattered forever, Hak was the dark angel who saved her.  When the Fire tribe soldiers had them cornered on the cliffs, again, he put his own life before hers, and it ignited a blazing virtue in her own soul.

And yet, the first time she saw Hak truly get scared was not during an actual battle but when they were looking for the Blue Dragons and the tunnel had trapped them.  She herself was afraid of never seeing him again, but the look on his face when he broke through, and the way he hugged her so tightly afterwards, he really had been terrified.  It was a new side to Hak that was starting to draw her in closer.

Yes, somewhere along the way she had started to look at Hak through the eyes of a lover.  She wanted him, craved his company and attention. She would get irritated if other females were around or made any moves to get close to him, and when he’d turn them down it made her feel better, relieved.              

Having those feelings bottled up only made situations start get a little awkward or it would cause them to behave in ways that confused each other.  Like the first time she kissed him or when he confessed his feelings for her.  Actions triggered by raw emotions that bubbled in their hearts waiting for freedom.

Too bad it took a long time for them to adjust to these feelings.  You could blame inexperience, naivety, just the circumstances that surrounded them as the reasons.  I mean, it is difficult to worry about liking someone when you need to put more effort into simply surviving.  Now she can laugh about it, but it was a weird timing to tell a guy you loved him after you almost died.

But, looking back at it all, Yona, Hak, neither would trade those precious moments or memories for anything in the world.  Their lives before her Sixteenth birthday were fun times despite the bickering and the tragedy that came afterwards had led them to the greatest gift either could have ever asked for.  Lifetime friendships, adventure, and a love that will stand the tests of time.

~~xx~~

“… I have waited so long for this moment little miss,” Zeno whispers, smiling as he guides Yona towards the man she was about to marry.  “I’m glad you are my new Queen.”  

“Thank you, Zeno,” taking a deep breath, Yona smiles at how regal Hak looked in his ceremonial kimono, flanked by the dragons and Yoon that is was all so surreal.  “It’s almost too good to be true but we made it here…”

#hakyona #hak and yona #how we got here #akatsuki no yona #petri808 #fan fic #yona of the dawn

[headshakercharters]

As a Fishing Charter Captain I often see an overlooked fish while fishing on the Mississippi Gulf Coast and Louisiana Marsh. These fish are Sheepshead. Sheepshead or as locals call them Back Bay Snapper and Convicts due to the vertical bars on their sides, are plentiful during our winter and spring months. Sheepshead are similar to in looks to a Black Drum. They reach sizes of up to 36” but, average around 18”. They have a mouth full of teeth that almost look human and a strong jaw. Their gill cover and fins are very sharp and hard so use caution when handling them.

We fish Sheepshead locally in both nearshore reefs, piers, and bridges. We also fish locations in the Louisiana Marsh where they are known to frequent. Using a 1/0 or 2/0 Kahle Hook, 20/30 pound leader and 1/2 to 1 ounce sinkers we fish on the bottom next to these structures. Baiting the hooks we use several baits including fiddler crabs, live shrimp and “fresh” dead shrimp mostly. I can not express fresh dead shrimp enough, prior frozen shrimp even from a seafood store can lessen your chances significantly.

Sheepsheads do not have an aggressive bite, so constant tension on your line is important. Otherwise, they will steal you blind in bait without ever knowing they were there. Once on the hook you will know they are there. These fish put up a fight and thats just what the charter clients are after. Mississippi realized the popularity and importance of Sheepshead and placed a minimum size of 14” and limit of 15 per person. Louisiana still hasn’t imposed limits on them.

Once back at the dock your Charter Captain will take your group photos and clean the fish to your desire. They can either be filleted or left on the half shell for grilling. The recipes are almost endless. Often our clients will take their fresh catch to Shaggy’s Restaurant https://shaggys.com/locations/pass-christian-harbor/ in the Pass Christian Harbor where we dock and have them cooked to their desire right away. Where else can you get seafood that fresh!

At Head Shaker Charters we offer inshore fishing charters that meat our customer needs. Summer is right around the corner and so is the completion of speckled trout transit to the outer Louisiana Marsh. There are several ways to book your charter with us including online at

#fishing charter #boattrip

[livinginfictions]

Honestly, I hate christmas.

This year my fiance and i had to effectively 'cancel' gift giving because we are too broke to afford our textbooks next semester, let alone gifts. And we asked our family members to just give us cash so we can buy our books, or to just not worry about presents at all. And most of them ignored us, or keep making excuses as to why they're buying cheap gifts anyway (Mostly my mother), and it just sucks. Like, I get that they want to give us stuff and oh how sweet, but we asked them not to, and every penny they spend on a gift we didn't want feels wasted when they could have given us money that would have paid for textbooks, or gas to get back to school, or buying things we actually need that can't be given as surprise gifts because they need to be tried on or a very specific kind of things. And we can't give Anything back. The only presents with my name on the From section this year will be ones my sister bought for my mom and aunt that she's putting my name on so I don't feel bad, but somehow that feels worse.

It doesn't help that I'm incredibly depressed because i had to come back to my hometown for winter break because my school would charge 300 just for me to stay, and another 300 for my fiance. I have no friends here, no one to talk to except family members that upset me and stress me out, or said fiance who actually has friends and a life and it isn't fair to ask him to stay home with me, so i end up alone in the guest bedroom every day playing videogames and not getting any fucking answers from my best friend who also has a life and is happily at home back in iowa. I sleep 12 hours a night, wake up tired, and have never felt less in the christmas spirit. The idea of going out is enough to make me feel like crying, let alone going to my mom's house to clean because that's the only fucking thing I have to do here. She told me on the phone before i ever got here that i would spend all of break helping her clean, and i can't even do that because getting out of bed is just not an option unless my fiance is holding my hand.

I've never enjoyed christmas because it either means watching my family pretend they have the money to do special stuff and feeling guilty, or not doing any specia stuff and feeling guilty. This year just sucks extra bad because i know this summer I'll be coming back and doing the exact same thing, but for 3 months this time. Fuck christmas.

#personal #please ignore #i'm just being dumb #rant

[thegingerteacher]

Just Pinned to TPT Products: Comprehension activity BUNDLE for special education and students with Autism. This resource is packed full of basic comprehension activities: literal questions, story retell, sequencing, picture matching. Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall versions! #specia https://ift.tt/2tsD1Tp

#Pinterest #TPT Products

[mistyavalontea-blog]

Follow @avalon_tea #Twitter for specia l discounts and sales. Click the link below: https://www.facebook.com/mistyavalontea/ http://www.avalontea.store #tea #love #teatime #coffee #food #tealover #breakfast #health #greentea #healthy #instagood #organic #like #weightloss #drink #foodporn #cafe #winter #detox #chai #follow #healthylifestyle #explorepage #foodie #t #fitness #vegan #tealovers #healthyfood https://www.instagram.com/p/BtLy4S5lKJE/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1jvcg59l9jeo3

#twitter #tea #love #teatime #coffee #food #tealover #breakfast #health #greentea #healthy #instagood #organic #like #weightloss #drink #foodporn #cafe #winter #detox #chai #follow #healthylifestyle #explorepage #foodie #t #fitness #vegan #tealovers #healthyfood

[health-andfitnessinfo]

[health-andfitness]-On a scale of 1 to 10, how gross is it if I never change my socks?

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It’s nearly that magical time of the year where feet start sweating and sloshing in the snow, and a little bit of neglect could lead to serious problems. Although you try to be as hygienic as possible when it comes to changing out of gym clothes post-workout, it’s easier to neglect day-to-day foot care. And when it comes to a personal question like—how often should you change socks—during the throes of winter, it isn’t automatically obvious to everyone. By “everyone,” I mean me specifically.

So, just how often should you change socks? “That’s easy, every day,” my roommate Emily posited during dinner. “Wait, really,” I asked, my brows furrowing. “Every day?” “Yes, every day,” Emily said, weirded out. “Do you not change them every day?” “Uh, no, I literally wear whatever the hell I can find in my room, half the time my socks don’t even match,” I said.

Now granted, I mainly wear dresses and tights, so while I am undeniably gross, I’m also a little less gross than that sounds. But determined to find out where on a 1-to-10 scale I fell, I consulted a podiatrist, who lit the path forward on how to care for your feet, and specifically how often to change out of socks. Here’s the intel.

Photo: Stocksy/Melanie DeFazio

If you’re battling Athlete’s Foot, change your socks frequently

One thing became certain from Yolanda Ragland, MD, a New York City-based podiatrist and foot surgeon and founder of FixYourFeet.com from the get-go. If you have Athlete’s Foot, you can’t be so nonchalant about sock changes. Yes, that between-the-toes cracking and dryness so often associated with the locker room, occurs no-matter your activity level, due to a charming fungi that affects the top layer of the skin through small cracks or wounds. Anywhere between 15 to 25 percent of the population suffer from it at any given time.

“If you suffer from fungal infection of the foot, chances are you also suffer from sweaty feet,” she says. “Changing your socks twice daily is recommended. However, simply changing your socks will not prevent Athlete’s Foot because the fungal organism is extremely hardy.” So, you should also wash them with every sock change, and once they’re dry, use an anti-fungal cream to keep even more microbes from showing up to the party.

If you’re not dealing with Athlete’s Foot, there’s still a solid rule that you should change your socks everyday (sorry! sorry!) to keep bacteria and, yes, fungus from greeting you, too.

It may seem cozy, but don’t layer socks

You know how when the temperatures drop to bitter levels, you decide to layer pairs over pairs of socks in the effort to fight frostbite? Yeah, you want to not. “In the winter months, the feet get cold quickly because, after all, they are the part of the body that is closest to the ground!” says Dr. Ragland. “Layering socks might sound intuitive, but keeping the foot too warm will trigger sweating and bacteria, especially since fungus thrives in warm, dark, moisture conditions. Unless you are in subzero weather, there is no need to layer socks—they will only encourage microorganisms to propagate and could result in itchy malodorous feet.” Oh my God, I haven’t even been wearing my gross socks correctly.

Pick a fabric that’s kind to your feet

So now that layering socks on socks is out of the question, what is the warmest, cleanliest material? Despite the fact that everyone always kvells over cotton (the fabric of our lives and all that jazz), it doesn’t wick moisture as well as a synthetic.

“Think about it—all of your workout apparel is made out of synthetic materials, not cotton,” she says, because synthetics tend to absorb moisture quicker and return to regularly scheduled dry programming. “The same goes for socks. Look for thermal socks specializing in soaking up the sweat and keeping feet dry.”

So regardless of the situation you’re in, I wonder if there’s one type of sock that reigns supreme for foot cleanliness. Ultimately, “wearing a sock specializing in wicking and absorption is your best option,” said Dr. Ragland. “Merino Wool socks are great—this [is] natural fiber, which means it is breathable and can mechanically transport moisture and vapor from a higher area of humidity by the skin to a lower area of humidity away from the skin.

Additionally, Merino can retain up to 30 percent of its weight while feeling dry.” She also vouches that a synthetic fabric like Olefin can work, “but can only boast that it retains up to 7 percent of its weight.” Duly noted. Maybe someone could put a pair or 14 in my Christmas stocking.

To go with those super spiffy socks, here are the coziest slippers ever and here’s why to keep your shoes by the front door to keep your house clean.

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[casadoro]

Pantone View Home + interiors 2017

Новая палитра Pantone View Home +interiors 2017 не просто прогнозирует цветовые предпочтения потребителей, но стремится задать тон стилю жизни и устремлениям. В этом году компания популяризирует прогулки в лесу, призывает нас к беззаботному мечтанию, защищает окружающую среду. В начале марта в Чикаго состоялась Международная выставка Home & House, на которой Pantone представила 9 своих цветовых историй.    

Native instinct - нечто, что заставляет нас почувствовать корни, ощутить себя уроженцем своей земли. При этом Native instinct  объединяет вместе разрозненные цвета, узоры и объекты, не ограничиваясь рамками какой-то одной самобытной или племенной культуры. И цвет здесь становится соединительной тканью; медные тона и минеральные оттенки, такие как малахитовый зеленый, фиолетовый кварц, ярко-золотой.

Forest Bathing

Понимание этой палитры требует слияния с природой. Forest Bathing -  прямой перевод с японского «Shinrin-yoku» практики, она подразумевает прогулку в лесу и восхищение «цветами опавших листьев. Зеленые и сине-зеленые оттенки доминируют на фоне сочных тонов Grape Kiss и Acid Lime (Виноградный Поцелуй и Кислый Лайм).

Acquired Taste  

Текстура является неотъемлемой частью этой коллекции цветов, её теплые тона  охватывают диапазон от оранжевого до красного. Это очень вкусная палитра, от неё прямо веет ароматами ржи и домашнего пива. Послушайте названия: Orange Chiffon, Amberlight (янтарный светлый), Etruscan Red, Mulberry  (шелковица) и Brandied Melon (дыня, пропитанная бренди). Аппетитно!

Day Dreaming 

Pantone афиширует эту палитру, как  «серию приятных мыслей, которые отвлекают наше внимание от действительности». Цвета легко читаются, - пастели будут по-прежнему сильны в 2017 году, - и включают в себя Rose Quartz и Serenity из 2016-го. Компанию им составят Blue Glow, Plein Air, Yellow Iris и Nile green .

At Ease

Самый простой способ представить палитру At Ease - просто вообразить посеревшую версию палитры Day Dreaming. Холодные и тёплые нейтральные оттенки встречаются здесь вместе: Warm Sand и Zen Blue объединяются с прохладным водным оттенком под названием Sea Angel , а, например, Sea Fog появляется рядом с Orchid Haze и Twilight Mauve.

Raw Materials

Эта палитра вне тенденции, это стиль жизни. Oil Yellow, Faded Denim, Winter Twig, Argyle Purple и Zephyr pink  относятся к тем оттенкам, которые отражают стремление потребителей жить здорОво. Это также и забота об окружающей среде, - привычка думать о  переработке и вторичном использовании материалов.

Graphic Imprints

Чёрный, белый, оттенок серого цвета и к ним добавьте яркие цвета-акценты, как чернила для принтера. Dazzling Blue, Prism Pink, Fandango Pink, Opaline Green, Orange Popsicle, Blazing Yellow – популярный и, одновременно, блестящий выбор на повестке года 2017.

Reminiscence

Это самая структурированная и традиционная палитра Pantone для дома и интерьера в 2017 году. Но и она хранит в себе сюрприз: Maritime Blue, Specia Tini, Dusty Blue, Rattan и Parchment сочетаются неожиданно, хотя и приятно, с «выскочками» Martini Olive, Bird's Egg Green и Sugar Almond.

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