#I didn’t even know brands made handkerchiefs but I’m not surprised I guess | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaedore · 4 years

Photo

BINDING BONDS | 1

< next

parings: jung jaehyun x reader

genre: ceo!au, arranged marriage!au, (semi) angst, consumption of alcohol, asshole/player Jaehyun, swearing

note: BB deals with themes of mental and physical abuse, which can be upsetting for some readers. If you feel uncomfortable reading these types of plots, you are advised to not continue

[ 4.9 k words ]

Out of breath. That’s what you felt when you woke up this morning and saw that you were going to be late to work.

“SHOOT!” you jolted out of bed and sprinted to the bathroom.

Today was the first day where you would work under your mother to prove to her that you’re worth the CEO position. Your mother was the CEO of Audace, a clothing line competing against other luxury brands such as Gucci, CocoChanel, Versace, Louis Vuitton. Today, you couldn’t afford to be late, so there you were, sloppily throwing makeup on your face in your bathroom.

“Not today, you’re not gonna ruin this y/n,” you talked to your reflection.

As soon as you looked as ready as you could be, you rushed out the door of your apartment and into your car.

“Whatever, I’m already late,” you sighed and as soon as you knew it, you were taking a detour to the coffee shop.

Parking your car, you shut the door and entered the little coffee shop. It was always your favorite, even though you never drank coffee. The comfort it held, held a soft spot in your heart.

“Hey Soojin, I’ll have my usual,” you smiled, setting your sunglasses on top of your head, “Oh! And a medium chai for my mom please,” you figured that you could bring her her favorite drink while you were at it.

“Of course, $5.75 please.”

You swiped your card and stood aside, waiting for your drink. You sat at the nearest table and looked at the little pot of sunflowers sitting in the center. You ran your fingers against the soft petals, but soon your thoughts were interrupted by a call.

You sighed looking at the contact, “morning, mother.”

“Why are you late? You were supposed to be here half an hour ago,” she asked.

“I overslept and made a little detour,” you simply replied.

“Y/n!” As soon as you heard your name called, you stood up and grabbed both of your drinks.

You nodded at Soojin to thank her and rushed out of the coffee shop.

“Well you better be on your way in the next half hour because we have a meeting with our joint company, got it?” Your mother sternly said as you opened the door with your back.

“Of course! I’m coming right n-HEY! Watch it!!” you yelled.

You looked down at your stained white blazer and blouse. The iced matcha you were dying to drink was suddenly gone and absorbed into your shirt. It was the first blazer your mother bought you for your first day of working with her.

“Chill, princess, you were in my way” the man stood in front of you, the nickname he gave you frustrated you even more.

The man stood tall and confident, he was wearing his own suit and he wore it well, too bad your drink spilled a bit on him.

“Do you have a napkin?” you desperately asked him.

“Only my handkerchief,” he replied.

“Oh, thank you,” you reached to grab it from his blazer pocket until he stepped to the side.

“I never offered it to you,” he bluntly said, taking it out and wiping himself instead.

Surprised at his comment, you huffed in defeat and walked to your car. You couldn’t be late to the joint company meeting.

“Hey, mom,” you walked into her office.

“Hey-oh...what happened to you?” your mother looked up from the papers in front of her.

“Some douche ran into me on my way out to the coffee shop,” you muttered.

“My blazer’s in the closet, grab it before we go,” your mother pointed to the closet.

The only option was a navy blue blazer so you grabbed it and buttoned it, hiding your stained blouse. After you fixed yourself, it was time for you and your mother to go to the meeting. Thankfully the CEO was coming to Audace’s building.

“We’re meeting with Jung Corporation, they’re the biggest trading company here,” your mom explained as she reread the files in her hands.

“But we don’t need to trade...Audace is international,” you stated.

“Yes I know, but it’s got to do with partnerships, stocks, it’s a joint business partnership, y/n,” she explained.

The elevator bell rang and the two of you left for the meeting room.

“Anyways, we’re meeting to discuss our joint business celebration that’s happening this Saturday,” your mom continued.

“Shoot,” you whispered to yourself.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten,” your mom stopped walking to look at you.

“I-I mean I-no I haven’t mom,” you lowered your head, “lets just go, they’re probably waiting for us.”

“Greetings, Mr. Jung! Thank you for coming,” your mom was the first to walk in and shook hands with the man and his wife.

The man was a little older, had some grey streaks in his hair, but still looked fairly well for an older man. His wife stood up and also shook hands with the both of you. She was very beautiful, there wasn’t even a streak of wrinkles, you couldn’t stop looking at her youthful features.

“My apologies, my son couldn’t make it. He had a...minor incident before this,” the wife spoke.

“No worries, I’m sure we’ll be seeing him at our joint business celebration this Saturday” your mother smiled.

The meeting went by smoothly, the talk of the facility, decorations, invitation acceptances, champagne. You had to refrain yourself from yawning so much, the meeting felt like it was never going to end. It felt like forever until the never ending conversations finally stopped.

“So everything’s set!” Mr. Jung clapped.

“Yes, thank you, and thank you Mrs. Jung, for both coming to meet us. We’ll be seeing your family this weekend,” you and your mother shook their hands and walked them out of the building.

“No, y/n I just don’t think it matches your...vibe?” Your friend Haewon brows furred thinking of the right word.

“Well then, I don’t know. Maybe I should just wear one of my older dresses,” you sighed.

“No no no, you can’t do that. We’re going to Versace,” and with that, she took your hand out of the store.

Haewon was your only friend. Growing up, you had a hard time establishing friendships and later on, relationships. As a kid, no one had a desire to be your friend. Your family was one of the richest where you lived so all the little kids were afraid to approach you, intimidated that if they’d get on your bad side, hell would ensue. As for relationships, you never had time for them. Even when you did, the guys were in it for the money and fame, so you saved yourself the energy to pass dating overall.

You opened up your heart to many many people in your life, but it always resulted in them leaving after they took something from you. You learned that the hard way. Each and every time someone left, you guarded yourself more and more. Instead, you went to school, studied hard, and focused on the CEO position your mother was going to pass down to you.

Haewon, was there the entire time. You always laugh to yourself whenever you remember the moment you two met. You met her at a charity ball when you were very young. She took the last cream puff that you wanted and ran off with it, so when you chased her into one of the rooms, you cried to her that you wanted it. Feeling bad, she gave half of it to you. That’s when the friendship began. Even though she’s loud, a talker, and loves to gossip, she’s always been there for you during hard times.

“Haewon, I’m tired and my feet hurt, can we just-”

“No, we are not going, I’m going to make sure that you look so good at this celebration. Especially when the Jungs are going to be there,” her eyes widen looking at the wide variety of dresses.

“Huh?” you furrowed your brows.

“Oh you haven’t seen? Their only son, Jung Jaehyun, he is-oh my gosh- he is the most beautiful man you will ever see,” Haewon gushed.

“I...doubt that,” you walked ahead of her, searching for a dress.

“Just wait until you see him! He is gorgeous, but…” Haewon paused.

“But what?” you asked not taking your eyes off your choices.

“He kinda likes to uh...play around?” Haewon cautiously said.

“Really?” you hummed uninterested as you still browsed the dresses.

And that was the truth, you were truly uninterested. You thought men like him were a waste of time, they’d never survive in the world of business.

“Girls say that he never gets into serious relationships. The ones that I’ve talked to, had either one night stands or flings with him, but sadly, nothing serious…” Haewon pouted.

“Guess we’ll just have to confirm that on Saturday,” you picked up a dress.

“Oh, that’s perfect,” your best friend’s eyes widen in awe.

Saturday came closer than you thought. You just got back from helping your parents prepare for the celebration, along with the Jungs. And again, the famous Jaehyun still didn’t show up.

You picked up the Barocco Signature Shift Dress that you bought from Versace the other day and carefully slipped into it. After you got yourself ready, you drove yourself back to the facility. There were already so many cars, the sudden amount of people overwhelmed you. You parked your car and sat there, leaning your head against the steering wheel. As a baby, before you could even walk, you were taught a certain way to act at events like these. At the same time, you didn’t find joy in being the center of attention and being presented in front of a crowd like a...prize. It was draining.

Ring ring ring!!

“Hello?” you cleared your throat as you answered.

“Y/n, are you coming yet? The Jungs will be coming here soon,” your mother said on the other line.

“Uh yeah, I just parked,” you sighed, rubbing your forehead hoping that the marks from the steering wheel didn’t tattoo on your forehead.

With your Runway Virtus Mini Chain Wallet, you walked into the facility that held the large room. There were two staircases on both sides of the room that went up to an indoor balcony that oversaw the whole room.

“Y/n, over here,” your mom waved to you.

As you walked over, you spotted Mr. Jung and his wife standing behind your mother.

“Hello,” you bowed to them.

“You look so beautiful, y/n,” Mrs. Jung hugged you.

“Thank you, you look wonderful,” you complimented.

“Oh honey, where’s Jaehyun?” she asked her husband.

“He said he’s going to be late,” Mr. Jung’s lips thinned, fists tightening.

“No problem, I’m sure we’ll see him in a bit,” your mother said.

You excused yourself to grab some champagne. You could feel it in your spine that it was going to be a long, long night. As people started to pour in, the music got louder and the hotter it got. People came by and greeted you, giving out small talk. After a while, you excused yourself to grab more champagne.

When you could feel the temperature in your body rise, you fanned yourself as you walked up to the balcony to oversee everyone. Despite the second level, it was still cooler. You sighed, sipping on your champagne thinking to yourself how much more you can drink in order to still drive.

“It’s quieter up here,” A low voice came from behind you.

It was the guy, the guy from earlier who spilt your iced matcha. He was dressed in a sleek suit and tie that framed his broad shoulders and lean physique.

“You,” your eyes slightly widen, “who are you to be here?”

“I’ll leave that for you to figure out,” he sipped on his drink, looking down at the crowd.

“No I’m serious, I’ve never seen you before, but apparently you made it through security,” you stated, mumbling the last part.

“Just know that I’m significant enough to make it in,” he turned towards you, eyeing you up and down.

“Although, I can say the same thing, I don’t know who you are, yet you managed to make it in too,” he raised a brow.

“I’m-”

“Didn’t ask,” he waved his hand up and dismissed you off.

You bend your neck to the side and think to yourself, who this man was and who he was to be acting like that. Someone so forthright, rude, and upfront disrespectful. Before you spoke up, another girl around your age came to his side, wrapping her arms around his.

“There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you!” she smiled.

“Just wanted to get some air,” he looked back down and gazed at the crowd as she pecked his cheek.

Girlfriend…? You took another sip and walked away from the couple. You thought to yourself if you’d ever get to that stage in life. To be in a relationship where things were gentle, comfortable, and felt like home. You had to remind yourself that you didn’t have that kind of luxury.

“Ahem, excuse me!” Your mom stood on stage holding onto a microphone and her glass of champagne.

“We would just like to thank all of you who were able to make it to our celebration,” she spoke happily, “being able to become partners with Jung Corporation is such an honor. With this, we hope to expand more internationally. At the same time, I would like to introduce my daughter to everyone,” the light panned on you.

Oh mother, what are you thinking? You sighed, she didn’t inform you on this. You walked up on stage and presented your best smile. You didn’t have a speech written down, so you were only relying on what sounded reliable and serious in your brain.

“Tonight isn’t just about Jung Corporation and Audace joining businesses, it’s also about our future generation! As you all know, I will be retiring soon, and I want everyone to know who will be taking my position,” your mother explained, “This lovely young lady, is my daughter, y/n. I want you guys to know that she wasn’t given this position. I pushed her to the bottom of the chain and told her to work herself up. She did it quicker than I thought,” she winked to the audience, earning several laughs.

“Y/n?” Your mother turned her attention back to you, “how about a few words?”

You adjusted the microphone to your level and began speaking. You weren’t as nervous as you thought, probably because you’ve done this a dozen times already.

“Good evening everyone, as you know, I will be taking over the CEO position soon,” your voice echoed throughout the facility, “I want everyone to know that this isn’t all fun and games. The world we live in doesn’t grant wishes and it most certainly won’t go the way we want. Business is one of the biggest factors that make the world go around. So, when you invest in us, you are entirely with us the whole way. You are part of the family, and so with this, I hope you can warmly welcome me into it,” you smiled as you bowed and left the stage after the audience clapped.

It was Mr. Jung’s turn to speak. He gave a few wise words, but you were way too hot to stay for the entire speech so you left to go outside to the garden. As you were leaving, you could hear him faintly introducing his son, who apparently, finally made it to the event. You knew you should’ve stayed to meet him, but you figured that you’d see him sooner or later. He’s the one who’s been absent anyways.

“Honey, what are you doing out here?” It was your father.

“Father!” you jumped from your seat to hug him, you didn’t think he’d come, “I was just getting some air. What are you doing here?”

“I decided to take a little time off. Work was getting overwhelming, so I’m taking a few weeks off. Hopefully I can spend time with you and your mother,” he smiled.

Your dad held the CEO position of a law firm in the overseas, so that’s where he mostly was. Of course he came home for the holidays, birthdays, celebrations, and other important things. Your parents were married, but they were forced to be. Nonetheless, they learned to love each other so you grew up with a healthy childhood. You wondered if your parents had thought about forcing you to marry someone as you were around the age they also got married.

After you and your father got the chance to catch up, you two went back inside to join the celebration. The night consisted of exchanged laughs, short conversations, and business plans. Soon, people trickled out and before you knew it, it was midnight. Sleep was beginning to call your name, you were ready to walk out the door until your mother stopped you.

“Where are you going? We have important matters to talk about with the Jungs,” she waved for you to come back.

“Really mother? It’s past midnight, what’s so important that we have to talk at this time?” you frustratedly asked, all you wanted was to take off the tight dress, high heels, and the makeup that sat on your skin.

“No, come,” she gently grabbed your arm, dragging you to an office room.

When you went in, your father sat on the leather seat and the Jungs sat on the other side of the room, leaving two seats in the middle of the room. The guy you met earlier was sitting in one of them. The one who spilled your iced matcha on you and approached you on the balcony.

“What’s going on?” you quietly asked.

“Sit please,” she let go as you obeyed her.

Please don’t be the son, please don’t be the son, please don’t be the son. You mentally pleaded.

“Y/n, this is my son Jaehyun. My apologies that you had to finally meet him,” Mrs. Jung said.

Shit. Your eyes widened looking at him, and he held your gaze, you could see his dark orbs hold frustration and curiosity.

“As you two know, we now hold a joint business partnership,” Mr. Jung began from his seat.

Based on his tone, you knew that he wasn’t going to be delivering good news. You could feel the beating in your heart pick up.

“And that means that you were joined based on an agreement,” your mother finished his statement.

By this time, your palms were sweating and you held your breath to stabilize your breathing. You just wanted to get this over with, but you weren’t ready for the bad news.

“You two will be getting married,” Mr. Jung spilled.

“What??” You and him both turned your heads towards Mr. Jung.

“No,” Jaehyun stood up, “There is no way I am marrying her,” he spat out, pointing at you.

Yes, you were hurt by his words, but you were focused more on the big announcement.

“Jaehyun, you don’t have a choice,” Mrs. Jung gently said, patting his shoulder.

He moved from her touch as he mumbled something you couldn’t comprehend. The sound of voices tuned out into nothing as vexation clouded your mind.

“Don’t say that you don’t know her,” his mother whispered as she pleaded with him.

The room was soon filled with arguments with Jaehyun and his parents. He was clearly frustrated and the boom in his voice told you so. You had to cover your ears to block out the loudness of his voice that managed to slither its way into your head. You pressed your hands against your forehead to stop yourself from shaking.

You paused for a second, calming yourself down before you stood up, “I’m not getting married to him.”

“Yeah, same. Anyone but her,” Jaehyun commented.

“ENOUGH JUNG JAEHYUN,” his father stood up and shouted at him.

His wife, Jaehyun, you, and your family all stood in shock.

“Mr. Jung, don’t be so harsh. We just announced it to them, let them process it for a few days,” your mother gently spoke, holding onto your father.

“She’s right honey,” Mrs. Jung grabbed onto her husband’s shoulder.

“I don’t think anyone understood what I just said, I’m not getting married to him,” you repeated in a low tone, running out of patience.

“Y/n-” before your mother spoke, you were already out the door.

When you finally arrived at your apartment, you threw your heels to the ground and quickly unzipped your dress. Tossing it onto your bed, you immediately went to the shower to get yourself cleaned. As the hot water relaxes your muscles you think about the announcement that was made a while ago. You couldn’t believe your parents were forcing you to marry him. Fucking Jung Jaehyun.

Wait- but how come I never seen him before? You sighed to yourself as you wrapped the towel around you.

Trudging to your bedroom, you pulled out your pajamas and immediately buried yourself under your blankets. Before you could manage to fall asleep, you mother called.

“Yes mom?” you were beginning to get tired of her constant calling, but you couldn’t because she is your mother.

“Where are you? Are you okay?” She feverishly asked.

“Mother, I’m fine. I’m back at my place, I just need to sleep. Please, let’s just talk about this another time, okay?” You begged her.

“At least you're safe. Good night,” she said hanging up.

With that, you set your phone back onto the night stand and finally dozed off.

Jaehyun on the other hand wasn’t handling it well. He left right after you did, but he didn’t go to his place. Instead, he went to the nightclub run by his friend. He immediately went to the bar, started drowning himself in drinks, and making out with random girls who begged for his attention.

“Dude, stop this,” Taeyong, the nightclub owner, sat next to his best friend.

Jaehyun pushed the girl who sat on his lap away from him to speak, “you don’t understand” he slurred.

After Taeyong didn’t say anything, Jaehyun aggressively grabbed the girl from her nape and continued making out with her. He groaned as her heated core moved against his member. Before it got even more heated, Taeyong spoke up.

“You’re right, I probably won’t understand, but it’s not gonna be any better if you don’t tell me.” Jaehyun waved his friend off, clearly too busy exchanging saliva with the girl sitting on his lap.

“Okay,” Taeyong had enough of Jaehyun’s behavior.

He gently pushed the girl off Jaehyun’s lap and dragged his best friend away from the booth.

“Dude, what the hell?!” Jaehyun shouted.

Taeyong politely bowed to the customers who snapped their heads towards Jaehyun’s shouting, “Come on, you’re drunk. Let’s get you home.”

Jaehyun struggled getting out of his friend’s grasp, it didn’t help that he was intoxicated. Taeyong dragged him to his car and sped off. It took awhile for Jaehyun to calm down.

“I’m getting married,” Jaehyun whispered, his head against the window.

“Really? This is about that?” Taeyong curiously asked.

“But it’s not like that,” Jaehyun glared at his friend.

“O-oh?”

“It’s an arranged marriage,” he announced.

Taeyong didn’t speak, he kept his vision on the road thinking of something to say. To break the quietness that swallowed them.

“Have you met her yet?” he finally asked.

“Yeah, she was the one who spilled her drink on me, then I met her at the party,” Jaehyun slowly said.

“Oh her? What’s her name?” Taeyong suddenly became interested.

“I don’t know and I don’t fucking care,” Jaehyun grumbled, throwing his head back on the seat.

“Jae, come on, you don’t even know her. She can’t be that bad,” Taeyong stated.

“Whatever man, she’s the daughter of the CEO of Audace,”

“What? Really? You’re getting married to y/n l/n, Jae. The y/n l/n.”

“So?” Jaehyun furrowed his brows.

“Are you kidding me? That’s where I get all of my business wear,” Taeyong said in awe.

“That’s not significant, Taeyong.” Jaehyun said before dozing off.

“I mean, I don’t know her personally, but I heard she’s cute,” Taeyong chuckled to himself.

“Why don’t you get married to her instead?” Jaehyun retorted.

“You know what? May-”

“Just shut up and drive,” Jaehyun rubbed his temples.

“Wait, but what are you going to tell Gaeul?” Taeyong asked.

“What- that girl I brought to the celebration? It was nothing to begin with, so who cares? After I don’t respond to her for a couple of days, I’m sure she’ll understand,” Jaehyun quietly replied before quietly falling back asleep.

“I’m telling you man, you gotta stop doing that…” Taeyong sighed as his drunk friend fell asleep.

You woke up to the sunlight aiming at your face. You groaned and turned around, hoping your body would fall back asleep. It was your last day before you had to go back to work and the last thing you needed was to be forcibly woken. That wish didn’t stay long until you heard your phone ring. It was your mother...again.

“What mother?” You groggily got up.

“Are you up yet? I need you to come over right now. The Jungs are also coming,” she sounded in a rush.

You shot up, “seriously? Now?” You looked down at your thin pajama shirt that loosely hung from your shoulders and your messy hair poking in every direction, you were far from ready.

“Yeah, Jaehyun’s coming too,” she cautiously said. This was probably unplanned by the warriness of her voice.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” you heavily sighed before groaning, your body falling back onto your bed.

In the car ride, your mind wandered to the conversation last night. You felt hurt that he didn’t want to marry you, it didn’t make a difference because you didn’t want to marry him because of the kind of guy he was.

“I’m not that bad...right?” you whispered to yourself.

To be honest, after all of those individuals who’ve left you, it really questioned your self-worth. It took years for you to love yourself and not have anyone tear you down.

Jaehyun barely let you talk, so it’s not like he knows you. You had to remind yourself that you meant business and you weren’t going to let him tear you down. He already wasn’t fond of you, you giving him the cold shoulder shouldn’t be a problem.

As soon as you got home, the Jungs’ car was already parked in the driveway. You assumed that Jaehyun drove separately since there was another car you didn’t recognize. You gave the driver your keys and walked inside. They all sat in the living room of your large home. It’s been so long since you’ve come back, the smell was nostalgic, you were reminded of your childhood, everything used to be so easy.

“Good morning,” you held your chin high and greeted everyone.

“Have you eaten yet?” your mother asked.

“No, I don’t have the appetite,” you sighed, sitting down, “I have things to do so, let’s get to it please.”

“Well,” your mother breathed, “as you know, you two will be getting married soon.”

You looked up at her figure, “mother, I thought I made myself clear, I’m not marrying him,” before you stood up again, your father held you by your shoulder.

“Just...hear us out please, both of you,” Mr. Jung said, “we’ve become joint businesses because that’s what’s best for the business. With you two as the major players, the media will go crazy once they hear you two are getting married and the stocks will rise.”

You frowned at his commentary. Players? Does he think this is a game? Seems like money is all he cares about. You sighed, setting your sunglasses on top of your head, a sign that you’re willing to stay and listen.

“And what if we don’t agree?” Jaehyun asked, to be honest you forgot about him.

Jaehyun sat on the couch across from you, he looked like he hasn’t slept in days. His eyes held bags under them and his face was a little swollen. You scoffed to yourself.

Poor boy must have a hangover. What a mess. Jaehyun maintained eye contact with you, he knew what you were thinking and he glared at you for thinking it.

You turned your head towards his father who began speaking again, “So, we wanted to gift you guys an apartment.”

“Father,” Jaehyun’s tone rose.

“You are getting married and that’s it,” Mr. Jung stated, “end of discussion.”

“Yes, I agree,” you looked at your mother in shock.

You couldn’t actually believe she was going along with this, “mother,” you began.

“Enough, y/n. It’s done. We just want you guys to get as comfortable with each other as soon as you can. We want the wedding to happen this summer.”

“Mother, it’s January,” you retorted.

Did she really think that you could get to know a person, let alone, love someone within six, seven months? Insane. INSANE! You thought to yourself, Especially if it’s Jung Jaehyun.

You sighed before standing from the couch, “well if this is done, then I’ll get going,” you bowed then walked towards the door.

“You’re not going to stay and have lunch with us?” Your mother asked.

“I told you before, I don’t have the appetite,” you shut the door without saying goodbye.

You stood in front of the door, not moving since you shut it. Most of the time you were rarely mad at your parents, but this made you absolutely livid. How could they just marry you off like that? You’re not even 25 yet, you have so much to do, discover, to love.

The door harshly swung open and you slightly jumped from the impacted sound it made as he slammed it shut. You turned around to see Jaehyun looking down at you.

“I-” you began, soon being interrupted by him.

“One,” he held up a finger, coming closer to you, “when we get married I don’t want you thinking that everything is happy and everything is fine. Two, I don’t want you clinging onto me when we’re in public, and most certainly, number three, never call me your husband. Don’t even call me your fiance now.” As he got closer with each rule, you could feel his breath leaving his lips as he reached the last one.

#nct jaehyun #jaehyun angst #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun series #jaehyun smut #jaehyun au #jung jaehyun au #jaehyun scenarios #nct imagines #nct127 imagines #nct 127 au #jaehyun nct au #jaehyun

2K notes · View notes

vanderlindeandco · 3 years

Text

Silver and Sapphire (Bill Guarnere x Reader)

“Well, look who it is!” You looked up at the familiar drawl as Sergeant Bill Guarnere leaned an elbow on the edge of your aid station. His face was smeared with dirt, and the familiar slightly sour smell of unwashed soldier reached you as a breeze pushed past him, ruffling your headscarf, but his smile was friendly enough to make up for it. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart,” he continued, and you smiled, but thought little of the compliment, that, when you had first gotten to Europe, would have left you flustered. As you’d soon learned, many of the men were so starved for female attention, they’d’ve made doe eyes at your own grandma, had she been there (rest her soul), and the flattery lost its effectiveness pretty fast after that.

“Hanging in there, Gonorrhea?” you asked, and he chuckled, though a lance of annoyance flashed through his dark eyes.

“The boys tell you about that one?”

“I heard it,” you said, and he nodded, reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his breast pocket.

“I can assure you there ain’t a bit of truth in it. Just some jackass’s idea of a funny play on words.”

“I mean, it is pretty funny,” you said, shaking your head as he offered you a cigarette, and then stuck one between his own lips, patting around his pockets in search of a lighter.

“Sure,” he said. “Hey, you don’t got a-” “Lighter?” you asked, lifting the one you’d pulled from your own pocket as his lengthening search yielded no success.

“You’re an angel,” he said around the cigarette, and you lit it, letting him take a good pull to make sure the tobacco really was burning before you stowed the lighter again.

“So I’ve been told,” you said drily.

“Why’re you harassing her, Bill?” that was Toye, who gave a friendly nod and a smile toward you as he approached before turning his attention back to Bill.

“I ain’t harassin’,” Bill said. “I’ve got a perfectly valid reason to be here.”

“Oh yeah?” Joe asked. “What for, you need her to diagnose your broken heart or somethin’?”

“You’re real smart, you know that, Joe?” Bill snapped with no real venom, elbowing away the other soldier, who was trying to wrap an arm around his shoulders to draw him away. “Like I said, I got a good reason, so roll up your flaps, Toye.”

Toye laughed, rattled Bill’s helmet against his skull (ignoring the scowl he got in response), and walked away with a cheerful, “See you around.”

“So?” you asked Bill, eyebrows raised expectantly.

He had reached inside his jacket as soon as Toye turned to leave, but withdrew his hand empty. “Patience is a virtue,” he intoned pedantically, his cocky smirk returning in the absence of Joe Toye.

“Yeah, one you lack just as much as me,” you replied and he chuckled.

“I’ll give you that.” He thrust his hand back inside his coat and pulled out something tied in a plaid handkerchief, and then hesitated before handing it to you. “Promise me you won’t laugh at me, yeah?” Though he said the words as nonchalantly as he could, for a moment you saw the nervousness in his eyes before he managed to conceal it, and that tiny moment shook down to its root the attitude of friendly imperviousness you’d maintained toward most of the men so far.

You swallowed, surprised by the way your heart rate had accelerated. “Promise.”

“Here you go.” He dropped the gift, whatever it was, into your hand, and it was light - so light it almost seemed as if there was nothing inside the cloth. But when you set it on the table and unfastened the knot, a silver chain slithered out onto the wood, from it hanging a teardrop-shaped sapphire set in silver. You picked it up, the chain almost too fine to grasp with your short-trimmed nails.

“Bill…” your voice trailed off as you turned the beautiful piece over in your hands. “I…” The blue stone glinted in the watery sunlight, the silver polished as clean as if it were brand new. “Why would I laugh at you?” You were taken so off guard, you had no idea what to say, and the question sprang from your lips unbidden as you looked up at him.

He shrugged, and his bearing was something you had never, ever thought would see on Wild Bill Guarnere- bashful. “I dunno. I’m just, ah-” he scratched the back of his neck roughly. “-not much of the sentimental type. Heard you sayin’ you lost a necklace on your way out here a couple weeks back, and when I found it, I was thinking I was gonna send it home for my pops to pawn, but I thought it’d look nicer on you than in some shop window.”

“It… Wow.” Your continued speechlessness seemed to rekindle his ego, and when you looked back up at him, he was smiling again, back to the cocky, confident Bill you knew.

“You like it?”

“Yeah, I do,” you said firmly, and held it up to your throat to latch it, fingers fumbling with the tiny pieces of metal behind your neck. “Care to give me a hand?”

“‘Course,” he said. You turned your back to him, his hands brushing yours as he took the clasp from them. You heard the metal click, and whether his fingers brushing against the intensely sensitive skin of the back of your neck before they pulled away had been an accident or not, you didn’t know, but either way they sent a wave of goosebumps down your spine, pulling the tiniest gasp from your lips.

“Well?” you asked as you turned to face him, swiftly regathering your composure, and hoping he hadn’t noticed your reaction. “What do you think?”

“Not bad,” he said, but he couldn’t quite conceal the admiration in his eyes as he looked at you, even though he didn’t let his gaze linger.

“I guess I owe you one, then, don’t I?” you asked.

“I wasn’t thinking about it that way, but I guess you do,” he said. “What’re you offering?”

“Hmm…” You considered for a moment. Your rule thus far had been to keep the soldiers at an arm’s length. But this felt different, and you thought you knew Bill well enough to know he wasn’t just trying to get in your pants. If that was all he wanted, he wouldn’t have gone to this much effort. No, he’d been thinking about you even when you weren’t around, and that thought made your heart beat a little faster, a giddy feeling coming with it. “There’s some chocolate and whiskey in the truck that they won’t notice missing if I cop it,” you said. “Looks like it’s gonna be a clear night tonight. Care for a couple drinks and some stargazing?”

“Are you coming onto me?” he asked, feigning surprise. “My ma warned me about girls like you-”

“Shut up and give me an answer,” you said, the laugh that came out of you then close enough to a giggle that it startled you a little.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “What time you get off? I’ll come and find you.”

“Soon as I’m done cleaning these bandages,” you said. “Won’t be much good lookin’ at stars til it gets dark out though, will it?”

“Nah, but dinner’s easier in the daylight,” he said with an easy smile. “I’ll see you soon, all right?”

“All right, then.” You were trying not to smile too broadly - his ego didn’t need to be inflated any further - but you couldn’t really help it, and to your surprise, he didn’t tease you for it.

“And you better be here, okay?” he said as he backed away. “No runnin’ off.”

“Is that what the girls you usually go on dates with do?” you called after him, and he opened his mouth, most likely prepared to release some sort of choice profanity, before remembering who he was talking to.

“You keep talking like that and I’m gonna take that necklace back!” he replied instead.

You wrapped a protective hand around it. “I’d like to see you try.”

__________________

A/N: I read that “roll up your flaps” was WWII military slang for “stop talking” and I couldn’t rest easy until I made Bill say it

#bill guarnere #band of brothers #bob #wild bill guarnere #guarnere x reader #i guess i'm just bob trash now #sorry folks #but am i though?#no #go watch it and join me #but hey one thing hasn't changed #i'm still shit at titles

65 notes · View notes

snowdice · 4 years

Text

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 18)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Janus, Logan & Patton, Emile & Remy, Roman & Remus & Janus

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Janus, Remus, Roman, Logan, Emile, Remy

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned, explosions, car crashes (more to be added)

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

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 My Master Post

Janus had a couple of seconds to regret every decision he’d made in the past few hours before Roman’s car hit the water. He’d managed to brace himself enough to not go flying into the front seat, but he still was jerked around by the impact. The airbags in front went off when they hit which was just his luck, and the car immediately began to fill up with water.

Roman and Remus were already struggling to get the airbags out of their way and Remus reached over to release Roman’s seatbelt since he hadn’t been restrained himself. Janus jerked over towards the window to try to roll it down.

It rolled down about 1/8th of the way before the automatic system gave out and the window got stuck. Janus took a split second before he dove for Remus’s bag to grab out a hammer he’d noticed in it earlier and swung at the window, shattering it in two goes.

Roman and Remus had already noticed the broken open window, and so Janus went ahead and pushed himself out of the window and towards the surface. He immediately noticed that there was a figure swimming towards him through the water and tensed for a fight assuming it was one of the people who had been chasing him.

He struck out with a fist, still half blinded by the water in his eyes. There was a started yelp as he felt cartilage snap under his fist. “Hey! Fuck!” the figure said in response. “Janus!”

Janus blinked the water out of his eyes as the familiar, if slightly distorted, voice sunk in. “Lena?” Janus asked as Remus popped his head out of the water next to him. She glared at him, holding her nose with one hand and treading water with the other. “Shit, sorry.” Remus seemed to notice what was happening and swam forward to give her a bit of support.

Roman popped up, sputtering a moment later and smacked Janus across the face.

“Karma,” Lena spat.

“How are you even here?” Janus asked, rubbing his nose.

“Everyone went dark and Logan sent us to go figure out what was going on,” she explained. “Then we saw Roman’s car in a high-speed chase and followed you.”

“Speaking of!” Some other guy’s voice called from a few feet away. “Can I get a bit of help?” One of the men from the other car had popped up out of the water and he was currently wrestling with him.

Remus stayed to help Lena out of the water, but Roman and Janus both swam over to help the guy with Lena drag the first guy from the other car and then the second one out of the water.

“Fred,” the other man with Lena introduced himself while he and Janus trussed up the men from the other car.

“Janus,” Janus answered.

“I figured,” Fred replied.

Janus gave him a confused look.

“You were one of the names The Boss was angrily mumbling about this evening.”

“Yeah, well, Logan can shove it,” Janus grumbled.

Fred didn’t comment; instead he just stood up and looked at the two men tied up on the ground. “Well,” he said. “Lena’s car’s only a 5-seater. Guess you two are going in the trunk. Wanna help me out Janus?”

Janus and Fred hauled the two men into the trunk together despite their muffled protests and Fred slammed the trunk closed.

Roman was looking at Lena’s likely broken nose, but she shoved him away after a bit of fusing. “Where have you three been?” she asked.

“We’ve been busy,” Janus said.

“Too busy to answer your phones?”

“They broke.”

“All of them?” she asked with narrowed eyes.

“Well,” Remus said. “Now that mine is at the bottom of a lake, yeah.”

Fred looked over at her. “What about our communication devices?” he asked.

She blinked. “Boss?” she asked to thin air. There was no response. “Shit.”

“You did just dive into a lake,” Janus pointed out in a drawl.

Lena sighed. “Alright. I guess we’re driving back to base to report in person.”

“We were actually heading to Lincoln,” Janus said crossing his arms.

Lena crossed her arms right back. “Well you don’t have a car anymore,” she pointed out.

“It’s also three against two.”

“Uh,” Roman piped in, “Actually…”

He rounded on him. “Oh, come on Roman,” he snapped.

Roman put his hands up in a placating motion. “Look, dude, dad’s already looking for your brother and we’re sort of at the end of our rope. We can go to base and regroup. We’ll share what we know, he’ll share what he does, we can get another car, and we can start fresh.”

Oh, like Logan would be willing to share anything with Janus. He’d already made it abundantly clear that he didn’t trust Janus. What other reason would he have for trying to get him out of the way when Virgil was missing? Janus would probably be locked in a cell as soon as he got to base so Logan could make sure he didn’t interfere or give his mother information.

He looked over to Remus, hoping for some sort of support but got an apologetic half shrug in response. Four against one then. Of course. They might as well just toss him into the trunk too.

“Fine,” Janus bit out. “Whatever.”

“Fred, you might have to drive,” Lena said, poking at her nose. She winced.

Roman slapped her hand away. “Don’t do that,” he said. “I wish we had ice.”

“We have ice,” Fred said, opening the backseat door.

“Why do we have ice?” Lena said.

“I brought a cooler.”

“What? When? Why?”

“Before we left and in case we got thirsty.” He grabbed a bumblebee covered handkerchief out of his front pocket and turned to get ice out of a small cooler in the back of Lena’s car. He handed the bundle over to her and turned back to Janus and Remus. “You boys are welcome to a drink.”

He did not seem to register the frown Janus sent his way. He just smiled and took the keys from Lena before shooing them all into the car. Janus somehow ended up in the middle seat between the twins. Roman at least seemed sheepish enough to avoid Janus’s gaze whereas Remus continued to blabber like he always did with a big smile on his face. He kept brushing up against Janus as though Janus wasn’t resenting him an unbelievable amount as Fred climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car.

“Come on Jan, don’t pout,” Remus said. “Want something to drink?”

Janus glared at him, but that did not dissuade him.

“Hmm, let’s see. We have apple juice, orange juice, grape juice, a bunch of different Naked Juice flavors (good choice Fred), a few of the Little Hug Fruit Barrels, grape soda, glacier freeze Gatorade, cactus coolers, Capri Suns in a bunch of flavors, and green apple ramunes. Or I can be your mixologist and make you a brand new drink out of this wonderful selection!”

“Say no,” Roman advised out of the side of his mouth.

Janus glanced over at him. “How about any of the Capri Suns,” he said pleasantly.

“Good choice!” Remus responded, handing one over to him. Janus did not check the flavor. He took off the little straw and removed the plastic before stabbing at the juice pouch. To his mounting frustration, the stupid straw kept slipping instead of going through the hole.

“Here,” said Remus, “let me do it for you.” He took the pouch and poked the straw into it before offering it back to Janus with a grin. Janus stared at him for a moment and calmly reached out a hand to squeeze the bottom of the juice pouch. It spurted all over Remus’s face.

“Oops,” Janus said. He took the pouch as Remus sputtered a bit in surprise and turned away to stare through the front window and idly suck on the straw.

“Welp… that means he’s angry at me,” Remus said.

“I never would have guessed,” Roman replied dryly.

Without a word, Janus removed the straw from the pouch and flipped it over so the juice slowly drained right into Remus’s lap. Then he dropped the empty container onto his leg.

“…Well at least I was already soaked from the lake.”

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 19

#sanders sides #janus sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #creativitwins #patton sanders #road trips and everything in between #adriana writes #road trips and missing persons #virgil sanders #platonic moxiety #emile picani #remy sanders #logan sanders #kidnapping #murder mentioned #guns #car crash

68 notes · View notes

sweeethinny · 4 years

Text

some time ago I wrote this fic, and today, after listening to some good 100 times this song, I had to write something about it, so I put these stories together and showed Harry's vision, how they ended up meeting (and I know, I say that Harry was a nurse, but I only noticed this after writing almost 2000 thousand words, which means that I am not going to change this new story and just deleted the paragraph that referred to it, thank you very much.)

I do not agree with any act of vandalism

It was a normal Friday at the bar, the same guys from the executive building had come over after the office spoke badly about the boss, the women from the accounting department went to get the portion of shrimp, chips and salad, along with the usual beers, and almost everyone who was there, Harry knew. It was supposed to be a normal Friday.

But then, the door opened and a redhead came in, not the one who worked at the makeup shop on the corner, nor the teacher of the elementary who would marry next week, no, this was a new. She was short, but she wore black high-heeled boots that stuck to her knee, a black pantyhose, a matching skirt and a gray turtleneck sweater, which made her look like she was coming from a funeral. The redhead was one, if not, the most beautiful woman who had ever entered there, with her hair at the height of her breasts, loose and messy from the wind, big brown eyes, and freckles that painted all over her skin.

''Good night'' Her voice reached him, sweet and melodious, she sat at the bar in front of Harry and that alerted her that she could be coming from a funeral, because if it was a date, she wouldn't sit down there. There were deep dark circles that matched the whole sad scene he had created - a habit he had created since opening the place, always trying to guess what each person was doing there - and Harry almost wanted to hug her and offer his condolences. ''The strongest you have''

''Good night’' He tried hard to say, not wanting to look too shocked by her beauty, serving her properly with the strongest whiskey on the shelf ''Some say it makes fire come out of your ears'' He joked, trying to pull it out least a glare from the most listless brown eyes he had ever seen

‘’Is he good at setting someone on fire too?’’ Harry had met some people during his six years working there, and whenever someone started with these chats, he knew that some tragic love story would reach his ears.

‘’I’ve never tested it, but we’ve already used it to flambe one of our desserts and burned the ceiling’’ Even with that, the story that always made someone at least smile a little terrified, the woman remained listless. Harry beckoned Andrew to take his place by attending Andy, the painter who worked on the fifth floor of the building. "Is everything okay?" The redhead drank the entire dose, tapping the glass on the counter and wiping the drop that ran down the corner of her mouth before crossing her arms and looking at all the people around, as if she were envious of every smile that appeared on unknown faces

‘’Have you ever been betrayed?’’ Harry looked at her, picking up the ice and lemons as he continued to work on the drink from table five, trying to buy time to answer it.

‘’Hm ... Not that I know’’ At least none of his ex’s had said anything about it in the end.

''You should be thankful'' He poured another shot when she pushed the glass towards him, and she took it in a few seconds, her cheeks turning as red as her hair ''It sucks'' Her brown eyes shone for a second and Harry prepared to pick up the handkerchiefs he kept nearby, but then they dried up and were so lifeless they looked ashes

‘‘I’m sorry’’ He smiled when Tom took the glass with the freshly brewed drink, and went back to paying attention to her ‘’What is your name? I never saw you around here’’

‘‘Ginny ’’

‘’Harry’’ The pretty redhead stretched out her hand in greeting, forcing a smile

‘’Do you know everyone who shows up here?’’ He shook her cold hand

''Good part, usually people talk about their lives and we end up remembering them'' Ginny nodded, focusing her eyes on the empty glass in front of her and seeming to think about several things at the same time, and if it weren't for Rihana's music playing, Harry thought he could hear the gears working

‘’My boyfriend ... well, ex boyfriend, he came here. Do you know him?'' She opened the photo on her cell phone, showing her next to Michael, smiling from ear to ear as they drank ice cream, and Harry did his best to contain the shock when he saw the man who worked in the tattoo parlor and never left the bar alone. How could anyone betray someone like her?

‘’Huh… Yes. I think we talked at one time or another’’ He omitted, not wanting to delve into the fact that he had introduced Jones to Michael yesterday.

'’It seems that everyone knew that he was cheating on me but they didn't want to tell me. They preferred to make me a clown! My own friends!’’ This time there were tears, and Ginny made no effort to contain them ‘‘I am an idiot’’

''Of course not, they are'' Harry sat on the bench across from her, still on his side of the bar ''Michael didn't deserve you'' Not after going out with more than a year with several girls ( and he didn't think it was a short relationship, due to her sadness) ''You are too beautiful for him'' Ginny finally laughed, a little bitterly, but still a laugh

‘’And who would I be pretty to?’’ Harry shrugged

‘’I don’t know,I don't think there is a guy for work. But if you like women, maybe you’re more lucky’’ She laughed again, sniffling and wiping tears from her sweater sleeve. This time he took the handkerchiefs.

‘’We were together for five years ... Five years and God knows how many betrayals’’ His heart ached, wanting to go back in time and hit that filthy guy in the face ‘’I arrived on a trip and .. surprise! There he was with the barmaid on our sofa’’ Ginny forced a smile, taking the rest of the whiskey and hiding her face with her hands, seeming to cry even more

‘’He’s an idiot, you know that, don’t you?’’

‘’No more than me’’ Harry denied, taking the hands off her pretty face, trying his hardest not to wipe her tears-wet cheeks, or putting the red strands behind her ear, just taking another handkerchief and handing it over

‘‘It is forbidden to self-sabotage in this bar’’ Ginny laughed softly, wiping her wet face and giving little sobs ‘’I won’t let you think shit about you, when he was the one who missed. There was no way for you to know, there are no signs or any indications to let us know that the person is complete shit.’’

‘‘Well, there should be, I’d avoid a few years of being an idiot’’ Harry swallowed, not sure what to say, but then remembering something. He opened the drawer next to it, pulling out a box he had gotten from his mother and was saving for later

‘‘Take one’’ Harry pointed to the untouched chocolates, pulling the lid off and placing it close to her face ‘‘My uncle always says they improve any mood’’

‘’How can I know they’re not poisoned?’’ It was a valid question

‘’Pick one, and I’m going to eat’’ She looked at him, her brown eyes looking more like melted sugar and less like the ash at the bottom of the fireplace. Harry preferred that look, even if smudged with mascara. Ginny pulled out one of the truffles and handed it over, which he ate with common devotion, feeling the incredible taste of cherry liqueur mixed with dark chocolate, all melting in his mouth in the most perfect way. ‘’The best in all of London’’ He smiled ‘’Now, take one’’ And the redhead did it.

‘’Thank you’’ She smiled a little sheepishly, chewing on the truffle that should have been chocolate and pepper, and looking a little calmer than a few minutes ago. At least the hiccups were almost gone. ''I wanted to get back at him'' Maybe it was her beauty, maybe it was the fact that Harry thought he owed her something because he never noticed Michael dating - even if it was impossible, as he said, there were no signs or indicators - but it didn't take long for him to respond;

‘’Do you want help?’’ And so it was that after work, he ended up taking Ginny to a nearby neighborhood to break Michael’s car

‘’Don’t worry, my brother works at the police station and can cover up a case of vandalism. If, Michael has the courage to report, which I doubt’’ She reassured him, sitting in the passenger seat and finishing eating the last chocolate from the box, which he willingly gave her

‘’So, is this it?’’ He parked on the corner, happy that there were no security cameras on the street or the buildings around. The gray car was parked not far away, looking brand new.

‘‘Yep’’ Ginny got out of the car, looking much more angry than when she arrived at the bar, putting on the hoodie that Harry had borrowed and going steadily towards her final destination.

As promised, he followed her, taking care of her back while the redhead did all the destruction with a golf club he kept in the trunk, scratching the shiny paint and murmuring swear words and slightly incoherent phrases

''I once found panties in the back seat'' She said while explaining why the car ''And he told me I was going crazy, that that was my panties'' Ginny rolled her eyes, her cheeks purple "And when I once complained that he spent more time taking care of the car than going out with me, he said, 'it's just that the car doesn't complain so much'".

Harry looked over his shoulder, seeing that she was spilling a jar of old oil, which he had taken out to put in the trash, on the seats and steering wheel, while angry tears fell from her eyes, leaving her much more mascara painted than before.

As soon as she finished, falling in the middle of the street and sobbing in a loud cry, Harry knew he needed to get them out of there before some curious neighbor wanted to know what that noise was, or was going to take out the trash, so he picked her up as if it were the most precious thing in the world, letting Ginny soak his shirt with tears and shaking hands to grab him as if it were the only thing that would protect her at that moment

‘’Why does it still hurt, Harry?’’ Her tone made his chest ache and tighten, placing it inside the car and then leaving the crime scene - could it be called that?.

‘‘I don’t know, Ginny’’ he say sincerely ‘‘Revenge never really comforts, it doesn’t bring anything back’’

‘’He had no right to play with me like that!’’

''No''

''I hate him so much'' The sobs echoed back in the car ''I don't think I'll ever be able to love anyone again'' Harry looked at her, her hair totally messed up, her face dirty with makeup and red from drink, her eyes swollen crying, and red lips trembling, looking just as vulnerable as Teddy on waking from a nightmare or going 5 minutes without Tonks or Remus around. Harry sighed, saddened that a woman like her was suffering like that for someone so ridiculous and filthy, that he didn't deserve even a hair of her stress. Ginny definitely deserved to be happy and to be loved, and it was a shame that they met at a time like this, because Harry can imagine himself - even if for a second - by her side.

‘’It’s never too long ... There must be someone’’.

#hinny #harry x ginny #harry potter au #harry potter #hinny au #hinny angst #ginny weasley #hp fanfic #hp couples #hp au #read-a-hinny-fic

22 notes · View notes

corisanna · 4 years

Text

Over 100 Years of Generational Pandemic Trauma with a Side of WW1/Depression/WW2 Trauma and Frugality: 1917-2020

This will be more personal than I usually get on Tumblr, but for some reason, I wanna share it. I wanted to put it in words with a bit of research as a way to process it and maybe get some other stories from other people.

...

So the other day, Mom and I were talking about illness and reactions to the threat of widespread, dangerous illness while watching pandemic coverage on TV. (Yes, we talk about weird social stuff a lot. A lot.) Mom casually said she and her sister were distressed every time they got even a little bit sick and tried to hide it from my grandfather because he seemed to react to illness with anger. Huh, we said, How odd.

“Maybe he was angry at the illness, not at you?” I guessed.

“Hmmmmmmm,” Mom said doubtfully.

So we were taking a break from talking and someone on TV brought up the 1917-1918 flu pandemic.

“Oh, hey, didn’t Great-Grandpa live through that?” I idly asked.

Mom blinked and went utterly still. After a minute of staring blankly, she said, “Oh. Oh.”

“What?”

“He wasn’t angry. He was afraid,” Mom said.

“Who? Oh, Grampa?”

Mom nodded, face in an expression of epiphany.

I started thinking. It turned into diving into family history and history in general.

Okay, so. Let’s back up for some context.

...

2000s back to 1950s back to 1940s back to 1930s back to 1914: Habits from World Wars and the Great Depression

First of all: I know for a fact that my mother, born in the 1950s, was raised on Depression/WW2 Era food frugality. My grandparents lived through both and were old enough to remember them; Grandpa was around twelve on Black Tuesday and Gramma was around two years older. Grandpa and his brother were in the military during WW2.

The things Mom was raised on:

Very simple recipes, all based on salty canned/jarred food that had been cooked to Hell and back. SO MUCH SALT. SO MANY PEAS. Grampa was especially focused on canned food; he likely ate mostly canned food when deployed and on kitchen duty. Treating sugar and salt like gold. Stretching meals that had meat with potatoes and gravy. A backyard pseudo-Victory Garden Gramma and Great-Grandma canned veg from and orange trees that Grampa obsessed over keeping healthy and productive; the garden was dominated by tomatoes to be stewed even into the 1980s and the obsessive care for the orange trees had them massive and healthy when I was a kid in the early 1990s. Butter was for holidays; the rest of the year was margarine (”oleo”). Leftover grease was strained and saved. SO MUCH JELL-O and relish IN SO MANY RECIPES, possibly because it hadn’t been rationed. (You know all those weird old 1960s-1970s recipes with gelatin and odd stuff? Look at when the recipe-makers were kids.) Did you burn your food nearly to charcoal? Eat it. Food was absolutely not to be wasted.

Shoes were to be worn until mending or tape couldn’t hold them together anymore. Weird little broken things were saved in a junk drawer as possibly useful for scrap-- broken rubber bands, screws from something that had broken, old keys, bent nails-- and metal cooking pans were to be used until they started ruining food. Boxes, scrap paper, newspapers, and magazines were to be bundled up and saved.

(source)

And so on.

For other rationing information, see the “Make It Do” tag on Sarah Sundin’s blog.

But my grandparents’ frugality goes back another generation. There was no formal rationing in WW1 in the US, but there were massive propaganda campaigns to reduce consumption of certain things. People were encouraged to have “meatless” and “wheatless” days. Weird recipes for “Camouflage Cookery” appeared.

(source)

WW1 “War Gardens” were the predecessors of Victory Gardens. Canning the produce from the gardens was patriotic. And so on.

My grandparents improved bit by bit as Mom grew and Grampa made more money at better jobs and the economy recovered. One of the first things they caved on was having coffee all day every day as some kind of personal victory, but still never with cream or sugar. Mom and I keep suddenly realizing some of their habits were tied to rationing.

Generational drift has kept a lot of those odd little habits. Mom hates vegetables that aren’t salty and cooked to floppiness. Eat freezerburned food because it’s your own damned fault it got freezerburned. Wear shoes until they fall apart and unless they are flip-flops that become 100% unusable, keep the worn out pair until our next pair of shoes wear out “just in case” the new shoes get damaged. Shoelaces are saved when the shoes get trashed. Clothes get ripped beyond repair? Fight the urge to save the cloth for “something.” Recycle things to near-obsession. “Waste not want not,” but for very specific things.

I explain all this to establish that we have already identified patterns in hardship coping mechanisms within our family.

Now we have identified another.

1917-1918 Influenza Pandemic

My great grandparents-- the parents of my maternal grandfather-- were European immigrants who lived in Chicago during WW1 and the pandemic. My other grandparents likely did, too, but I have very little information about them. My GGF’s occupation would be considered non-essential in modern times, but I’m not sure about 1917-1918. I don’t know what he did during that time; though I know there is a Draft Registration Card for him, I have no proof or anecdotal evidence that he served in the military. So he was likely home with his wife and baby. During a time of fear of bringing illness home enhanced by propaganda,

real(?) news,

(source)

and gradually escalating sanitary measures imposed by the local government.

(source)

So. Terror.

Mom and I talked about him. Obsessive about handkerchief use and washing. Strict standards for cleaning. He didn’t live with Mom’s family, so she doesn’t remember much else relevant. And Great Grandmother? She focused on the food and frugality.

But their son, my grandfather? Also obsessive about handkerchief use and washing. So unreasonably obsessed with cleaning that Gramma threw up her hands and said, “Then you do it!” and Grampa, a man in the early 1950s, did it without complaint. Silverware and dishes were never to be shared or used twice and must be washed immediately after use.

He was born during a pandemic and raised by a father who had to keep his family safe during a pandemic. And a world war. And the Great Depression.

How could my great grandfather’s parenting not be affected by all that trauma?

How could my grandfather not be affected by that parenting from trauma?

How could my grandfather’s parenting not be affected by all that trauma, plus trauma from serving in WW2?

How could my mother not be affected by that parenting from trauma?

Mom said she and her sister were distressed every time they got even a little bit sick and tried to hide it from my grandfather because he seemed to react to illness with anger. Huh, we said, How odd.

“Maybe he was angry at the illness, not at you?” I guessed.

“Hmmmmmmm,” Mom said doubtfully.

“Oh, hey, didn’t Great-Grandpa live through that?” I idly asked.

Mom blinked and went utterly still. After a minute of staring blankly, she said, “Oh. Oh.”

“What?”

“He wasn’t angry. He was afraid,” Mom said.

“Who? Oh, Grampa?”

The chain was greatly loosened by my mother, who was a sheltered white girl who literally didn’t know who Martin Luther King Jr. was until everyone started talking about his assassination because my racist grandparents and their social circle controlled her access to media about the Civil Rights Movement so tightly. (The deprogramming of all their underlying racism is a completely different YIKES discussion for another day.) Grampa didn’t serve in Korea, she didn’t have any brothers to get roped into Vietnam, they were very middle class when she was old enough to notice such things, she never really wanted for anything. Just lived a very privileged white girl life.

A charmed life until her mid-30s.

And she still inherited a lot of frugal and cleanliness/sanitation compulsions from my grandparents, which she then passed down to me. Diluted twice over, but very much there. And very useful, now that we are low-income and disabled but still live in a run-down but big house capable of storing extra stuff. If one or both of us has a flare and can’t shop? We just turn to the freezer and pantry and the garage cabinet. Because always having a month’s worth of food is... just how it’s supposed to be, isn’t it?

Buy extra nonperishable food when it’s cheap whenever you can afford it. It’s better to have too much than to have not enough. Mind your hygiene. Wash, wash, wash anything that gets saliva or nasal discharge on it. Wash your hands before, during, and after food prep. Wash your hands in general. Grow your own vegetables and make sure they’re nutritious ones that’ll keep. Some things Are Not To Be Shared. Anything like double-dipping is a crime against humanity. Don’t lick the stirring spoon, or wash it immediately after if you do. Correct people who don’t cover coughs and sneezes and either make them wash their hands if they used them or do not let them touch you. If you get sick or poor or disaster/war breaks supply lines, you’ll be glad to have enough food to live on for a month. Buy extra nonperishable food when it’s cheap whenever you can afford it. It’s better to--

2020 Coronavirus Pandemic: Distilled Generational Habits and Coping Mechanisms

I still have the recipes Gramma carefully saved from the Eagle Brand canned, shelf-stable sweetened condensed milk that was given to her family by local welfare workers in the 1930s.

This is why when panic buying started in early March 2020-- before people started taking the possibility of long-term shutdowns seriously-- one of the first staples I went for was shelf-stable milk. I remember being surprised that there was so much of it on the shelf. Huh.

Fresh potatoes were gone, but the canned and dry/instant potatoes were untouched. Huh. Tons of Gramma’s recipes used “potato flakes.” Don’t they know that fresh potatoes have a much shorter shelf life? Huh.

Fresh tomatoes were picked over, but the canned diced/stewed/paste/sauce were still well-stocked. Huh.

Bread and bread products like tortillas were gone. The flour was untouched. Huh. I didn’t buy any because we already make sure we have a good amount of flour on hand. Same for salt, sugar, yeast, baking soda, and baking powder. Like, we have an in-other-times-(by-which-I-mean-January)-excessive amount of salt, sugar, and baking soda. Prepackaged bread crumbs were untouched; we still had a good amount of panko at home but I got two more boxes because they were BOGO and surely people would soon realize this was good to have for a bit of shelf-stable variety.

Buy extra nonperishable food when it’s cheap whenever you can afford it, Gramma may as well have whispered to me.

I should’ve bought dried split peas to make soup with the leftover ham hock we have in the freezer. They sold out the next week with all the pasta. Which I hadn’t even considered because Mom is diabetic and controls it through diet alone. Pasta is a no-no here.

I was so busy with sorting out *vague gestures* life in general during a pandemic that I delayed going through my seed stock; I didn’t realize some of my staple veggie seeds were so old because I started my garden so late last year that I just bought seedlings. I’m guessing seedlings are gonna sell out. So I was late to go hunting for seeds online, but now they’re in the mail. My usual tomatoes, eggplant, zucchini, cucumbers, and winter squashes, along with things I hadn’t seriously considered before: Green/soup peas. Black-eyed peas. Carrots. Onions. I usually try to grow fun things mixed in with staples but not this year.

Remember to use sunflowers as wind and sun breaks, Grampa may as well have whispered to me. In hot and sunny places, they can make or break a garden. I learned that the hard way when I moved out west. They bring the bees, too.

Okay. I can do this. Thanks.

Conclusion

That meme of the person going “wow I wonder what it would be like to live through a major historical event-- WAIT NOT LIKE THIS NOT LIKE THIS NOOO” has me thinking even more than it usually does. This pandemic has made me acutely aware of how “macro” history’s threads are woven into the “micro” history of my family. It has made me more curious; if we’re shut in for longer, then I may actually get to poke into Mom’s side of the family more. Gaining extra context for things fascinates me-- and could be a great distraction when I’m not able to garden. I’ve already learned a lot.

I really wish I could talk to my grandparents and great grandparents about this. I can already see that I am going to have some habits permanently ingrained in me as compulsions, the same as pandemic and economic disaster did for them.

And I really understand my grandfather’s difficulty controlling anger at an invisible, microscopic enemy and what it could do to your family.

The only difference? I have twenty years of therapy behind me as a tool. I hope that’s enough.

Because yeah, there is anger in my anxiety.

129 notes · View notes

underthewingsofthblackeagle · 4 years

Photo

After her marriage with Frank Randall has failed and Claire Beauchamp flees from her violent husband, she finds refuge in the house of the Fraser/Murray family in Berlin-Wilhelmshorst. But then tensions arise between Britain (which has since left the EU) and some EU member states. All holders of an English passport are required to leave EU territory within six weeks … and suddenly Claire’s fate looks more uncertain than ever.

This story was written for the #14DaysofOutlander event, hosted by @scotsmanandsassenach

Chapter 4: 14 Seconds (2)

When Jamie's car stopped just before the entrance of the gallery, it had already begun to rain in torrents. The sky had darkened to black and every now and then a loud thunder could be heard. The limousine driver parked near the entrance and then quickly jumped out of the car with a large black umbrella bearing the logo and name of the hotel in gold letters. He opened the door on the rear passenger side and held the umbrella so that Jamie could get out without getting wet. The chauffeur accompanied him the few steps to the gallery, then quickly hurried back to the car where he would wait for the guest to return. As soon as he had entered, Jamie was greeted by a friendly member of the gallery staff. He paid the entrance fee and received the exhibition catalogue. Then he slowly started his way through the exhibition. It took him about forty minutes to reach the back room of the gallery. Already from a distance he saw the well-known photo showing the painter in front of his famous work "Wall". Only once had Richter had himself photographed in front of this work. This photo had then adorned the title page of the art magazine "art". Exactly in front of this two-meter by two-meter picture sat a petite woman, whose head was surrounded by an only slightly tamed, dark brown mass of curls. Carefully and anxious to make as little noise as possible, Jamie approached with some distance. A few minutes passed, then he heard the woman sniffing softly. She opened her handbag and was obviously looking for a handkerchief in a hurry. Jamie reached into the right pocket of his jacket and pulled out a pack of Tempo tissues, which he opened and held out to the unknown woman. "Please, take one of these."

“Boston” by chabotphoto The woman turned her head up to him and looked at him with big, red, weeping eyes. Then she immediately looked back down to the ground. "Don’t be ashamed. I know only too well how much this painting can speak to a person's soul," Jamie said softly. "What?" asked the young woman and looked at Jamie again. "I meant the picture..." Jamie pointed with his right hand to the large photo she was sitting in front of. Claire looked over, then shook her head. "I ... I didn't ..." At that moment, the dark silk scarf she had wrapped around her neck began to come loose, revealing her ivory skin. To his horror Jamie discovered several dark red-blue strangulation marks there. James Fraser had learned early on to hide his emotions well. Among the people who regularly dealt with him, he was known for the stoic mask he was able to put on. A mask that never betrayed what he really thought or felt. Ernst Neuenburger had once highlighted this characteristic of his Scottish friend as a further asset to his diplomatic missions, saying, that if Jamie ever got tired of his daily work, he could make a very good living as a poker player. But at that moment every joule of stoic calm left him. A feeling of righteous anger pervaded his entire body and the desire to bring the one who had caused those marks and the pain and fears associated with them to justice almost overwhelmed him. His emotions had obviously not escaped the young woman. Frightened, she grabbed her neck and immediately put the scarf back on. Then she looked down again. Now tears were dripping from Claire's face onto the floor. Jamie, who had not failed to notice this either, again held out the package of Tempo tissues to her. "Please, take the whole package." Claire reached for the tissues. "Thank you." "May I sit with you?" Jamie asked, pointing to the other side of the bench. She nodded.

Cautious not to get too close to her, he sat down on the other end of the bench. A few minutes went by in which they both remained silent. But in James Fraser's head the thoughts were spinning. What could he do to help this young woman without endangering his mission? How could he approach her without frightening her timid nature even more? In what way could he gain her trust? And above all: How could he prevent her from being exposed to even more brutality? In Claire's mind, too, one thought chased the other. Who was this man? What did he want from her? Could she trust him? Was he the help she had prayed for just a few minutes ago in a more or less conscious prayer? He did not look like an angel, more like the modern version of a tall Viking. And yet there was nothing about him that seemed threatening to her. His bright blue eyes gave her a feeling of ... a feeling of ... Suddenly the soft, deep voice that had so kindly offered her the handkerchiefs before interrupted her thoughts: "Excuse me, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Etienne Marcel de Provac Alexandre. I'm a wine merchant. I had a business meeting in town today." Jamie gave her his right hand. Claire, who had calmed down a bit, grabbed it and answered: "Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp..."

“Hände” by Bru-nO

Usually, she would also have used the name "Randall", but she never wanted to have anything to do with that name again. Before she could even think about how to get rid of this name, the stranger's voice interrupted her thoughts again: "Oh, from France too?"

"Not exactly. My ancestors ... emigrated to England ... many centuries ago. Are you from France? You speak English with no accent?“ Jamie had to smile.

"Well, my ancestors also left France centuries ago. Then they came to Germany ... through ... various countries. I ... I work as a wine merchant for a company in Berlin.“

He reached into the right inside pocket of his jacket, took out a small silver case with business cards and handed one of them to Claire. She took the card and read attentively. Surprised, she suddenly heard herself wonder: "How far is Berlin from here?" Jamie thought for a moment. "A little over 6,000 kilometers, I guess." "And how far is it from London to Berlin?" "About 1,000 kilometers." "And you are in Boston on business?" "Yes, I had a meeting with one of our business partners." She nodded. "I don't want to be indiscreet, but may I ask you something?" Claire looked at him and Jamie realized that the trust he had just so carefully tried to build between them had disappeared from her eyes.

But then the young woman nodded again. "You ... you're not here for the exhibition?" he asked softly, almost whispering.

"No," Claire replied just as softly, and then, to her own surprise, it flowed out of her: "I ... I was looking for a place where ... I could have some piece, a quiet place to think, and since the church was closed ..." "Sorry if I disturbed you. I didn’t mean to." Jamie made preparations to stand up carefully. But to his surprise, Claire had quickly put her hand on his arm as if she were holding him back. Was she? She didn't know it herself. At that moment, the voice of the friendly co-worker who had greeted Jamie sounded from the ceiling speakers. She warned the visitors to the gallery that it would be closing shortly.

Jamie looked at Claire. "What are you gonna do now?"

He did not need to wait for an audible answer, her eyes told him that she did not know. "May I invite you to dinner, Mrs. Beauchamp?"

What did that man want from her? Could she trust him? Or was there some other purpose behind his altruism. She had truested Frank once ... But what if he really just wanted to help her? What if he really just wanted to be kind to her? Maybe because the thought of his French ancestors had activated a kind of feeling of solidarity? Did she have any chance? Did she have a better alternative? Claire nodded. "Thank you." Jamie got up and waited until Claire had also got up and taken her bag. Slowly they walked towards the exit. Through one of the large windows they saw that the rain that had begun to cover the city a few hours earlier, had gradually turned into a real storm. Jamie grabbed his smartphone and dialed the chauffeur's number. Shortly afterwards Carl appeared in front of the gallery with two large black umbrellas and together they walked quickly to the car.

“Schwarz und Weiß” by Pexels

"To the hotel, Mr. Alexandre?" "Yes, Carl, to the hotel." Claire looked at Jamie in surprise. But he briefly put a hand on her right arm to calm her down: "My hotel has a wonderful restaurant. I arrived yesterday and will fly back to Berlin tomorrow. I didn't have time to explore other restaurants." Half an hour later they were sitting at a table in the hotel restaurant and had ordered dinner. Claire had decided that she would make the most of the time they had together. She had nothing to lose and so she began to question Jamie, alias Etienne. How had his family come to Germany? Had he grown up in Germany? Had he studied? Did he have brothers and sisters? How long had he worked for the company that sent him to Boston? Did he enjoy his job? Did he want to pursue this profession all his life? As they ate and talked, Claire carefully glanced over his hands. He was not wearing any rings. So the question of whether he was married seemed unnecessary. Now he looked at her questioningly, obviously he had noticed something.

“Glashütte Original Panomatic Date“ by GFP via WikiMediaCommons

"You are wearing a very beautiful watch, Etienne," she said, hoping that he would not notice that her attention had not been focused on the piece of jewelry on his left wrist. Already in the car she had seen that he was wearing a watch with a blue dial that matched the colour of his eyes.

"What kind of brand is it?" she asked, hoping to distract him further.

"It's a Glashütte Original. Model PanoMaticLuna," he replied. Then he cut off another piece of his steak.

"Looks expensive," she said, then led another fork of lettuce to her mouth.

"Let's just say it wasn't cheap," Jamie replied before he in turn brought his fork with the meat to her mouth.

"So you make good money?"

The question came briskly and Claire almost bit her tongue. She hoped she hadn't offended him. But Jamie didn't seem to mind her remark.

"I was lucky enough to close a very good sale a few years ago and my boss gave me a percentage of the profits. That's how I afforded this watch. I'm not giving much about wearing ... jewellery, but I've always wanted a reliable watch.

"What was that you were selling at the time? It must have been quite extraordinary."

Beauchamp! Your mouth will finally get you into trouble.

She was about to apologize when Jamie grabbed his wine glass, smelled it and then took a sip. This gave him a chance to think for a moment before he answered.

Claire also reached for her wine glass. She looked at him and saluted him.

"Well," he began, after putting his glass down, "I can't, of course, talk about business matters. But let's put it this way: I located some very old bottles of European wine a few years ago and was able to acquire them for someone else, a collector, at a very good price."

Fraser, you nut. I hope she takes it from you.

He'd read that this sort of business was really happening, but extremely rare. He also wondered if his answer had sounded convincing. Yes, he'd bought this watch on a bonus. But he had not received it for finding and reselling old wine bottles. For weeks he had been negotiating in the hottest weather with a North African group of bandits who had kidnapped a German-Austrian team of archaeologists. After finally returning the twelve men and women to Vienna and Berlin on a Gulfstream 650, Ernst Neuenburger presented him with a cheque. With this money he had bought the watch he had been wearing ever since. As dinner drew to a close, Jamie decided to play at full risk. "Claire, I know this must sound ... strange to you. But ... I'd like to help you. How would you feel about me booking you a hotel room? My company can cover the cost. It's no problem. I'll check with my boss later. You ... you don't ... you don't have to ... go back to ... him ... tonight." He had spoken softly, almost in a whisper. Yet she felt as if her ears were ringing. Before she could even answer, Jamie had called a waiter and asked him to ask at the reception if he could book another single room. She looked at him speechless. He just smiled. Shortly after, the waiter came back and explained that unfortunately there were no more free single rooms because of the Boston Marathon, which would take place in two days. "So that's all right then, but thanks for the suggestion," Claire said and reached for her wine glass again. "There's another possibility," Jamie started and reached for his wine glass as well, "there's a fold-out sofa in my studio. You can take my bed, I'll have it freshly made and I'll take the sofa." Claire placed her wine glass on the table with such force that he thought the stem would break off. "What do you think?!" she thundered at him. "I'm not that kind of woman." He would have been happy to answer her at the same volume. But some of the other guests were already looking to them and he wanted to avoid further fuss at all costs. "And I, Claire, am not such a man," he replied in a calm but very specific tone. When she had calmed down a little, he went on quietly: "I have a family in Berlin and I don't travel the world to bring vulnerable women to my room on my nights off."

He put his hands in front of his face and massaged his forehead lightly. When he looked up again, he saw her shaking slightly. Since she was silent, he continued speaking: "All I want, Claire, is to help you. I don't know who inflicted those marks on your neck and I'm not going to ask you about. But I don't want you to have to go back to him - if you don't want to. And I don't want you wandering around this town in the middle of the night in this weather too. I want to be sure that you're safe and that you're getting a good night's sleep. Tomorrow you can decide what to do next. Tears ran down her cheeks and Claire quickly reached for her napkin to wipe them away. "Claire, please! Allow me to help you." He reached out his right hand to her. When she had put the napkin aside, she grabbed it. "Thank you. You’re kind." Jamie waved to the waiter and asked him to arrange for the pull-out sofa in his studio to be preoared and his bed to be freshly made up. He also asked to separate the two sleeping areas with screens. When the waiter returned shortly afterwards and announced that the guest's wishes would be carried out, Jamie asked that dessert be served.

“Lemon Meringue Tart" by la-fontaine After they had eaten the lemon meringue tart and emptied the rest of the bottle of wine, Jamie stood up and offered his hand to Claire. Together they walked out of the restaurant to the cloakroom where they received their coats. Soon after, Jamie opened the door to his studio and let Claire go in. When he entered after her, he saw that the service had carried out his wishes to the point. His bed had been freshly made and there was a second bathrobe on the bedspread. The bedroom had been separated from the living room area (where the sofa had now been converted into a pull-out bed) by a bamboo screen about 2 meters long. Claire also looked around carefully and Jamie thought he saw something like an expression of satisfaction and relaxation on her face.

He took Claire's coat off and hung it with his in the cloakroom. "Take a seat, please," he said, pointing to one of the armchairs in front of the gas fireplace. Claire let herself fall into the armchair more than she let herself sit down. It seemed as if she suddenly lost all her strength. Her eyes fell on the wedding ring that she still wore out of habit. She tried to take it off, but she couldn’t. Overwhelmed by feelings of pain and anger, she burst into tears again and began to sob. Jamie, who stood at one of the windows for a moment and looked down at the street, turned around immediately and took two big steps towards her. Without thinking about it any further, he knelt in front of her and put an arm around her. "Claire," he said softly, "trust me, we'll find a way. You don't have to go back to him." When she looked at him with her redish weeping eyes, he could hardly bear the sight and pulled her to him.

#14DaysofOutlander #Outlander #Outlander Fan Fiction #From Boston to Berlin in 14 Hours #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Frank Randall #Jenny Murray #Ian Murray #Berlin #Boston #Modern AU

56 notes · View notes

fallinnflower · 4 years

Text

royal admirer

jeonghan x reader (prince!jeonghan x actress!reader, fluff, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers!au)

It’s a bit of a pity, really — modern-day princes really do nothing. To be fair, Jeonghan isn’t the type of person who enjoys doing too much, and the pressures of taking care of an entire nation would definitely qualify as just that, but he really doesn't do much but serve as a face for the country. But even that is a role he shares with celebrities and other public figures; really, he feels more like Crown Prince is just a role he plays more than an actual title. All it requires is for him to sit and look pretty, and occasionally address the nation when he and his advisors make important political decisions.

Maybe that’s why he’s always been so interested in acting. It feels like that’s all he does in his day-to-day life.

Jeonghan was the type of child to absorb performances in their entirety, never disruptive but enraptured by them. His mother had a love for musical theater which she seemed to pass on to him, but Jeonghan expanded from musicals to operas to plays to film. And because of his status as Crown Prince, he was allowed the best seats and free admission to any premiere he wanted, worldwide. He’d been to dozens of events, seen countless productions and met numerous professionals in the industry — and then he met you.

Jeonghan would be the first to admit he was a fan of yours. He’d watched you grow on screen since you were both in your early teens, when you began popping up in indie films he stumbled upon. You seemed born for the screen, able to slip into every role with such confidence and ease that Jeonghan was soon seeking out any scraps of you he could find; films, interviews, anything.

But you were elusive. You didn’t seem to do many interviews, and when you appeared at red carpets you were often humble almost to a fault. Every time Jeonghan heard you say something even mildly self-degrading in an interview, he had to pause the video and take a deep breath.

Jeonghan had seen many performances. He had met those performers, and not one of them held a candle to you in his eyes.

It was after you were forced to go on a brief hiatus due to vocal cord strain that Jeonghan decided he had to meet you. Someway, somehow, he had to get in contact.

Your first fan-mail letter arrived when you were fifteen. You had just gotten a relatively small role in a mini-series produced for a streaming service, and the letter was from a girl your age. That letter had been read so many times that you were concerned it would soon rip at the creases, so you seldom looked at it anymore unless you were in dire need of a pick-me-up.

Eventually, more letters came — not a great many, but always enough and always right when you needed them most. However, when your hiatus was announced on your social media accounts, you were suddenly inundated with letters and comments on your posts.

You received little drawings of yourself in-character from various people, get well soon cards, and then, strangely, one letter in an envelope with a wax seal and no return address. When it first appeared in your mailbox, you were extremely confused. You didn’t know anyone who used a wax seal, and you thought it was a mistake. Nonetheless, you brought it up to your apartment.

At first, however, you couldn’t bring yourself to open it. You just stared at that wax seal in confusion, until eventually you decided to just stop wondering and open it.

Shockingly, it was just fan-mail. The sender identified themselves simply as Jeonghan, no surname or other identifying factors.

That was the first time you received a letter from Crown Prince Yoon Jeonghan (although you didn’t know it yet), but it wouldn’t be the last.

Jeonghan sent letters all through your hiatus. In his third letter he offered you his email and asked if you’d like to form a two-person film reviewing club, to which you quickly agreed. However, those emails soon proved to be somewhat long-winded and inconvenient, which is when the primary mode of communication became text messages.

The thing is, once you exchange numbers with Jeonghan, your conversations gradually increase and become more casual, straying from your weekly movie reviews. It’s strange, you consider him a friend despite hardly knowing anything about him, but something about him just puts you at ease. He has a melodic sort of voice, especially so when he’s making teasing remarks, and you can’t help but grow attached.

He’s there for you when your hiatus ends and you start going through scripts, trying to decide on your next project. When you finally do, Jeonghan is the first of your friends to know about the new role you’ve accepted.

You try to keep in contact during filming, but it’s difficult for you — long hours on set mean that you go back to wherever you’re resting your head that night absolutely exhausted, and you barely have the energy to scarf down a meal, let alone message your friends. But nonetheless Jeonghan is always sending messages of encouragement, patiently awaiting the release of your film.

Eventually, those long hours come to a close and the premiere is approaching. It’s not a very big affair, due to the indie status of the film, but the director has gained enough traction to get it released in theaters.

Premiers have always made you nervous, because you’re just you. When you play a character, you can have as much confidence as is necessary for the role, but when it’s just you being yourself you tend to shy away from microphones and flashing cameras. However, it’s part of the job, so the evening of the premier you wear a brand new dress. It’s long and black, with flecks of blue and bronze glitter in the flowing skirt that you think resembles the night sky. It isn’t overly flashy, but you think it suits your style well enough. Your image has never been a flashy one.

You feel wonderful until you reach the interview portion at the end of the red carpet; when all your fans are wanting to shake your hand and congratulate you on your return to the big screen, you feel on top of the world. It takes you a moment to compose yourself when you finally do reach the end, because you’re dangerously close to crying looking out at the crowd gathered around.

“Are you alright, Miss Y/N?” One of the reporters asks as you gently swipe your knuckles below your lash line. You let out a soft laugh and nod.

“Yes— I’m just, I'm honored and overwhelmed by all the support I got during my hiatus and even now. I really appreciate it, even though I don’t know that I deserve it.” The end of your sentence is drowned out by cheers of excitement from the crowd, and you feel your eyes welling up with tears again. The reporter makes a teasing comment about your softness, at which you let out a watery laugh before you allow yourself to be led inside the theater by the director and your co-star. You can’t help but sniffle, trying to hold back tears—

Without any warning, a handkerchief suddenly appears before you.

“Thank you,” you say, dabbing under your eyes in an effort to preserve your makeup. Whoever it is beside you gently places a hand on your lower back and resumes walking into the theater with you.

“You should really give yourself more credit, you know.” At the sound of that voice, you nearly trip over your own two feet.

“Jeonghan?” you ask, looking up into a pair of dark eyes that glimmer playfully in the low light of the theater. He smiles at you, and you feel your eyes widen before they well up with tears once more. You look up at the ceiling and blink rapidly, at which point Jeonghan laughs and takes the handkerchief from you, gently dabbing under your eyes.

“No wonder you cry so well on camera,” he jokes, and you swat at his arm playfully.

“Shut up,” you whine. “You never said you’d be here! How did you even get in?” Jeonghan’s cheeks flush slightly at that, and you gasp once you realize how rude your words might have sounded.

“I didn’t mean— sorry, I just—” He cuts you off by laughing once again,

“You’re cute. I’ll explain later. For now, they’re all waiting for you in the theater.” He offers you his arm, and although you have a million questions racing through your head all at once, you simply nod and rest your hand in the crook of his elbow.

One thing you’ve learned throughout your years as an actress is that you tend to have a hard time watching yourself act. It’s a surreal experience, and so you can’t say you’re surprised at yourself for focusing more on Jeonghan than the actual movie playing in the theater. At some point during the screening he offered you his hand, and you took it, making you feel an awful lot like a teenager on a first date. That feeling only intensifies when he drapes his blazer over your shoulders as you both prepare to go back outside, explaining that the temperature has dropped considerably in the hour or so you’ve been inside. You nervously chew on your lower lip as he holds the door open for you.

“I guess I should hail a cab,” you muse, looking up at the sky. The stars are blotted out by dark clouds, and it already smells like rain — normally, you wouldn’t mind walking a bit, but you’d really rather not get caught out in the rain in this dress and heels. Jeonghan looks down at you with one eyebrow gently raised.

“A cab?” You nod in response to his question.

“The last bus is in four minutes, I won’t make it in time.” You can feel his gaze on you and so you finally turn your gaze away from the road, where you had been watching for a taxi to hail, and Jeonghan is looking at you with such bemusement that it makes you blush almost immediately.

“What?” You half-grumble, looking away. He just chuckles and shakes his head.

“Nothing,” he says. “My driver is here, if you want a ride?”

“Driver?” You ask, but Jeonghan has already begun walking in the direction of his car, and you follow, desperate for answers to all your questions.

“Where to?” he asks, opening the car door for you. You tell him the name of the hotel you’re staying at, at which point he slides into the seat beside you and gently raps his knuckles against the tinted glass divider between the two of you and the driver. He relays the address, and then the divider is shut again, just like that. You merely stare at Jeonghan, and as the driver pulls into the road he gives you a somewhat bashful look.

“I suppose I have some explaining to do.” You simply nod at this, body turned towards him in the backseat. His gaze falls to where your knees are almost touching, a gentle smile gracing his features; you watch the colored lights of the city flit across his face, waiting for him to sort his thoughts.

“Well,” he says, with a sigh. “I’m the Crown Prince.” All you can manage to do for a moment is blink, feeling all the breath gradually leave your body.

“The what.” It isn’t even a question; it has no inflection as it falls past your lips, and Jeonghan flashes you yet another one of those seemingly embarrassed, shy smiles. He gently takes hold of your hands, which you barely notice because you’re pretty sure you’re in shock.

“And a huge fan of your work,” he adds.

“My— you’re a prince?”

“Is that really so shocking?” he chuckles, leaning in a little closer to you. Although his gaze is playful as before, you can tell he’s being one hundred percent serious.

“Holy shit,” you breathe. Then, realizing what you’ve just said, you quickly cover your mouth. “Sorry, just— oh my God.”

Jeonghan only laughs at your astonishment, as unbothered as ever, though his grip on your hands does tighten for a moment as if to anchor you. To your surprise, his reassuring gesture does seem to bring you back down to earth a bit.

“Why didn’t you just tell me from the start?” you ask, and he shrugs.

“I didn’t want to get special treatment. I wanted to get to know you organically, without my title influencing you.” You feel a blush rising on your cheeks and pull your hands from his to cover your face.

“Why are you hiding?” he asks, his voice lower now, gentle. Hearing it you can’t help but think of all your texts and audio messages, and you let out a little whine.

“I feel stupid.” Jeonghan chuckles, gently prying your hands away from your face and taking them once again in his own. You slowly let your eyes flutter open, allowing your gaze to drift up and meet his once again.

You don’t think you’ve ever been looked at with such tenderness off-set. You’ve played a love interest many times in your life, but due to your hectic schedule you haven’t really had any meaningful, long relationships — but right now Jeonghan is looking at you like you’re the center of his world, and it makes you want to cry again.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Y/N,” he murmurs, and you bite down on your lip.

“Nice to meet you, too,” you say, and then, unable to keep the teasing smile off your lips, “Your Highness.”

He’s quick to playfully scold you for calling you anything other than his name, but while he’s distracted you lean forward and press a quick kiss to his cheek. It shuts him up immediately, and you grin cheekily, seeing your own joy reflected back in his eyes,

“Jeonghan.”

And when you exit the limousine at your next premiere, it’s on the arm of Crown Prince Yoon Jeonghan — or, as some know him, your playful, film-loving boyfriend.

#jeonghan fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen texts #kpop fanfiction #kpop texts #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #My writing

151 notes · View notes

marveloussupernerd · 3 years

Text

Crowns and Courtships - A Mysme AU

Chapter 5 - The Prince

Chapter 4

A regency era fic where the readers get to choose the romanced LI! All Casual and Deep story LIs are options.

Words: 2075

Summary: you take a long walk with Prince Jumin, then decide to spend some time with Mr. Saeyoung Choi. Maybe you can teach him, or his horse, some manners.

“Alright then.” Jumin turned to you. “Would you accompany me for a walk?” You nodded, taking his arm as you walked towards the door. Before leaving, you put on a hat to hide your face from the bright sun, then went outside. The Prince was leading the way and went backwards: towards the stables first. It would be interesting to gain a new perspective on the lands by going this route.

“Your lands are quite beautiful. You will have to come to our kingdom sometime to see ours,” he proposed.

“Of course, it would only be fair-”

There he was. The bastard who had almost killed her with a horse. Same horse, this time not running at a ridiculous speed, but going in slow circles. He hopped off the horse when he saw you. “Princess, you’re looking much better,” he greeted cheekily. He looked over at the prince. The slight paling of his face made it clear that he had no clue who the man was. “It’s nice to see that somebody is able to tolerate her.”

“It’s nice to see that my stable boy is finally learning how to ride a horse,” you retorted, eyes trained on the horse in the field.

The Prince let out a laugh. It was nice that he wasn’t immediately insulted by her tone. “I’m guessing this is the cause of your accident?”

“Mr. Choi, this is Prince Jumin. He’s from the kingdom next to ours. Mr. Choi was employed when he helped my father on his journey back from your kingdom; his horse had gotten injured,” you explained.

“Well it is an absolute pleasure to meet you, Your Highness,” Mr. Choi greeted, bowing to the Prince. Your mouth taped slightly; he did not address you in that manner.

“We must be continuing on,” you urged ever so slightly. You really didn’t want to deal with him anymore. You weren’t sure if he looked down on women, or if for some reason he just really didn’t like you, but it made you mad that he would address others formally but address you in such a manner.

They continued on. “It seems that you don’t like him,” Prince Jumin caught on.

“I will keep my thoughts to myself, but he did almost run me down with his horse the other day.”

“Well, you’ve certainly showed him. By going out and about, and with your remark,” he glanced at you and smiled, then you continued on towards the garden.

“I don’t mean to make retorts like that; I apologize you had to witness it.” You confessed.

He picked a flower. It was a rose. “I think you are quite like this rose. Thorns down here,” he lifted up his finger; he had cut himself, “to protect you from people. But to those who persevere, you show yourself as one of the most beautiful flowers of all,” He carefully handed the flower to you, warning you to be careful of the thorns. Two flowers within a week. You could not show him your flush. This was so embarrassing.

“You could just take the flower off its stem, that way you would not have to worry about poking yourself,” you commented, holding the flower carefully in order to prevent yourself from getting a cut.

He was dabbing the light amount of blood with his handkerchief. “I think it loses a lot of its personality if you take it off its stem, though.”

“The thorns are a method of self-defense: keeps animals from trying to eat them,” you explained, admiring the flowers.

“Then you understand that it would be a crime to take away such an important feature, even if they may be more flawless without it.” He put his handkerchief back into his pocket. He was ready to continue the walk.

“I quite like the way you think about life.”

“I quite like the way you handle yourself, especially with people like him.”

You continued on the walk in near silence, except for the few times the prince would compliment something about the castle. He seemed to thoroughly admire architecture, paying note to how the roof was designed and the stones were laid.

“Thank you for the walk Prince Jumin; I thoroughly enjoyed your insights,” you expressed graciously.

He bowed to you in return: “It was my pleasure. I cannot wait to see you soon; when is your family traveling to the city?”

“In six days.”

“Then I will see you in six days,” he kissed the top of your hand, “Have a good evening, Princess.”

After parting ways with the family, you were able to go upstairs and finally rest some more. However, when you looked out your bedroom window, you saw Mr. Choi, still sitting on the problematic horse and moving in circles. It hardly seemed like he was working. You changed into a pair of pants and a long riding skirt and headed out to see what he was up to.

He didn’t seem to notice you at first, still insistent on making the same turns with the horse. You decided it would be fun to tease him: “Oh my, I wonder what could be next… perhaps another left turn! Horse riding is oh so exciting.” You made your way closer to the horse.

“I know it may seem like the same thing over and over again, but it’s important to train the basic movements before stepping it up to full-out riding.” He hopped off the horse to face you. “Small steps.”

“Did you decide that before or after it tried to run me down?”

He paused, scratching his neck. “Well, after. In my old town I was good at helping animals with their injuries. I never really grew up taking them.” You were surprised to hear him sharing a bit about his personal life. He rolled his eyes. “Oh close your mouth. I might never share anything with you again.”

“I’d like to try riding the horse.” You decided.

“I don’t think it’ll take well to you, especially considering it’s never been ridden by a lady.” Another moment of ladies not having enough power over something. Perhaps it was because ladies did not straddle the horse? You would prove that you could take on the challenge and face it better than him, despite the odds being more difficult for you. He realized you would not give in, and went into the stables to grab a saddle appropriate for your riding position. He offered his hand to help uou mount the horse, but you ignored it; instead lifting yourself aboard the horse.

“Now watch and learn.” You started the horse out slowly, moving in a straight line to get a real for its gait; it was actually not a bad horse to ride: not too bumpy, not too tall. Time to make a right turn: shocking! The horse had never done this move before! The horse turned pretty simply. It was finally when you brought the horse to a gallop that you began to question its integrity. It did not take the instruction well, and a gallop turned into a stride. One quick turn, and you had fallen off the horse. This time, you took Mr. Choi’s hand and let him help you off the ground.

“That was quite an impressive right turn,” he teased, “but it seems neither of us can get it to control its gallop yet.”

He had a point. You ignored his comments though and mounted once again. When it started to speed up during the gallop, you pulled the reins tightly. It came to a quick stop, throwing you forward, but you managed to stay on. You waited for a witty remark, but it never came. You turned the horse slowly and urged a gallop again. This time, it refrained from going too ridiculously fast. The slowing down still went horrible, and you were knocked off once more; but the horse understood the gallop at least! Mr. Choi seemed surprised.

“It wasn’t that hard. I can’t believe you’ve been doing left turns all this time when you could have been doing something more beneficial, like this.”

“Yes well there’s still a lot to do. Don’t think that by making the horse gallop one time, you’re suddenly the horse whisperer,” he argued back.

“Isn’t that what you seemed to think the one time you helped my dad’s horse’s injured leg? Or is it different because you’re a man?” You hadn’t meant to pull the sex card on him, but it just slipped out. It was about time you pointed it out, though.

“That’s not why it’s different-”

You ignored him entirely; focusing your attention on petting and rewarding the horse, speaking softly to it. “Does he have a name?” You asked, changing the subject.

“Not yet.”

“Thomas.”

“Ew, that’s an awful name for a horse,” he replied, his nose scrunched up, almost in disgust. It made you laugh.

“I’m pretty bad with names so you’ll have to let me think it through for a while. Until then, you better not give it a name.”

“I’d rather not face your wrath anymore than needed,” he winked at you, laughing.

“Have a good night; hopefully by this time tomorrow he’ll be able to stop smoothly. However, if you need assistance with your own job, you know where to find me.” You turned, a smug smile on your face, then walked away.

The evening passed more quickly than anyone could have anticipated, and the time to travel to the city was quickly approaching. It was decided that Mr. Choi and Jaehee would accompany the family to the city for your debut. The time flew by uneventfully: you started teaching Jaehee how to embroider, Mr. Choi had taught the new horse how to stop, just in time for the trip. Sir Zen was going to stay back at the castle and do some research into who was targeting you. The houses were much closer together in the city and far smaller, therefore more safe from conspirators.

Jaehee was pushing your clothes down to fit into the trunk for travel. You were leaving for London in the morning; the town’s seamstress had brought a brand new dress for you to wear for your first garden party in the afternoon. You couldn’t help but admire the pearls detailing the blush pink skirt. It was absolutely beautiful and you couldn’t wait to wear it.

“I believe you are all packed Princess,” Jaehee announced, hooking the latch on the chest. “I will have Sir Zen carry it downstairs to be loaded into the carriage in the morning.”

“Thank you Jaehee. Now please! I insist you start packing your own belongings. We’ll be there for a few weeks, so make sure you bring everything you can’t live without,” you urged. Jaehee nodded, pushing the chest into the sitting area so that Sir Zen could carry it down, then got set to her own room to pack her things. You could hardly keep your eyes open any longer, and drifted to sleep.

You were awoken abruptly by a knock on the door. You didn’t even have time to compose yourself before the door swung open. “Princess,” it was Sir Zen; he sounded frantic, “while I was bringing your trunk down, somebody left this at your door.” He handed you the note.

The ink was smudged and the handwriting was sloppy. It was evident that it was written in a hurry. “Be wary of who you choose in London.” it warned. It was horribly ominous. “Who could have written this?” You asked, shocked, although you knew the answer.

“My guess is the people who don’t like what you’re doing with your courtship,” he pulled out a dagger: “It was pinned to your door with this.”

You felt faint. “Sir Zen, I’d prefer if you stayed watch in my room tonight, if that’s alright with you.” It was embarrassing to ask, but there was so much danger.

He took a seat near the window, a decent distance from your bed. “Anything to keep you safe from those people.”

You tossed and turned. It was nearly impossible to sleep knowing that the group was making threats on your life now. “It’ll be okay,” Zen comforted. He scooted slightly closer to you so he could look into your eyes; his were comforting and warm. “You can sleep; I won’t let anything happen to you.”

With those comforting words, you were finally able to fall asleep.

#mystic messenger #mysme #crownsandcourtships #Jumin han #707

3 notes · View notes

lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

avengers B99 au, interactions with secondary characters :))

Bruce Banner doesn’t like doing his job. He really, really doesn’t. Usually Thor can make arrests or something, but no. They needed someone with scientific backgrounds, and Tony already said he would and could launch himself across the room and ruin society if it meant he would have to take a different shift.

There’s a mole somewhere. And Bruce? Well, he’s about the least-threatening person on the Avengers force.

(This is in fact a lie because if possible, Bruce would take over the government.)

This is why he’s at work on a Sunday at six p.m., which is horrible and awful.

He meets Reed Richards, who is perhaps the worst man ever and is very bad at science. Somehow, he’s gotten ten papers published.

“I’m Dr. Richards,” he says, extending his hand. “Are you new here?”

Bruce has passed Dr. Richards every day on his way home for the last six years.

“Um, no,” Bruce says, taking his hand in a shake. “Just switched shifts. I’m usually the day, week shift.”

“Oh, you were with those guys. Stark drive you crazy?”

“No,” Bruce says, gritting his teeth. “More of the others.”

“Well, glad you’ve joined our team. Better over here, right?”

“...remains to be seen.”

(It does not remain to be seen. This shift notoriously sucks.)

Bruce is in charge of observing the different people. He finds out that Susan Storm has horrible taste in men, her brother is an asshole who everyone says Tony would get along with--which means they don’t get Tony in any way--and he doesn’t know what Ben Grimm’s deal is or why people call him “Thing.”

“You’ll get it soon,” Susan says. “Just...wait.”

Bruce emails Fury.

Dear Captain Fury,

You owe me margarita mix and at least 10 gazillion dollars in emotional damage. I cannot believe that I have to socialize with Reed Richards. In my scientific opinion, I hate this. I am very very close to total anarchy and getting rid of Barbra. Consider this your threat.

Sincerely,

Bruce Banner

(Barbra is the Keurig. It is Tony’s prized possession and almost 48% of the reason he was still at the precinct.)

The mole in the department is hard to find. Everyone has a reason, except for Dr. Richards, who doesn’t have a reason on the basis that he is a horrible person who Bruce would not be surprised to know that he probably owns at least twenty different sponges since he wants to be so absorbed in himself. You’d probably just need to hold a mirror up to his face to distract him.

The arrests made are also different.

A lot of drunk and disorderly, which Bruce handles with efficiency although he gets embroiled in a conversation about different brands of shaving cream.

The only good thing about any of this is that Bruce gets to see Luke Cage in action. Luke is most likely the best human being in New York, and this isn’t just because he’s one of the few that can be partnered with Detective Jessica Jones and not die by the end of it.

“I have really thick skin,” Luke jokes.

“I think I’m in love with you,” Bruce announces. He’s on his seventh cup of coffee. “That’s the coffee talking.”

Luke doesn’t treat that awkwardly, because apparently “more than five people have said this to me.”

Bruce thinks it’s what he deserves.

Meanwhile on day shift during the weeks, it has gone to chaos. Bruce Banner is one of the main team members, and holds many people together due to a.) the fact that everyone on the team would kill for Bruce, b.) he makes good tea and knows the gossip, and c.) he’s perhaps the only one who can calm Thor down because Thor loves his husband more than life itself.

Things are not going well.

Plus, Dr. Richards keeps emailing Tony different stories about “how much better suited” Bruce is now.

This conflicts with Bruce’s emails about “wanting to severely injure certain members of this shift, which initials are the same and are ‘R.R.’

Thor is cranky and wants his husband back and knows that he will riot if he doesn’t get to sleep in the same bed as his husband at the same time soon.

Bruce is getting suspicious of a guy who goes by the name of Aldrich Killian. Just got hired by the precinct for tech support, but keeps weird hours and wears green polo shirts. Light green. This doesn’t necessarily mean a lot of things, but seriously. Who wears a light green polo shirt? To work? Get real.

So Bruce starts his investigation and sends information to Fury and Tony.

Killian then finds out that Bruce suspects, and traps him in the file room.

“I literally, quite honestly, hate you a lot,” Bruce says. “It’s not even ten p.m. yet and I’m stuck here.”

“And you will be unless you send your boss a message saying that I’m innocent,” Killian hisses. “And then you quit your job, or so help me I’m gonna kill you.”

“Go ahead, try it,” Bruce says. “Kill me, I bet that’ll be real fun for your court case. Especially when everyone knows I’m here. And when you skip town, and you will, they’ll hunt after you. Tell me, you want Natasha Romanoff standing over your bed? Not fun.”

“I’ll manage.”

Bruce does not think he will. Because while Bruce has been talking, he’s realized one thing: the shelves are not bolted down.

Then he remembers the time that Steve knocked one over because he was very angry about a case.

So Killian gets a whole row of unsolved 1970s cases dumped on top of him.

Bruce then doesn’t feel the need to do anything for the next ten minutes, because it is quite heavy.

So he gets a coffee, has a stimulating conversation with Clint about “whether or not deer could actually feel anything but hubris and greed,” and then decides to casually tell Fury he found the mole.

“When?”

“Um, ten minutes ago? I went to get coffee. Clint wanted to talk about scientific things.”

“Please tell me you did not leave the mole for your damn conversation about deer. Don’t.”

“Then I won’t tell you shit. Just let me have my shift back.”

Bruce comes back to the weekday shift. Thor decides to take his husband out to lunch and sweep him up into a hug.

“Never volunteer again. Ever.”

“I didn’t volunteer, Tony opted out. I missed you too, babe.”

“Now that you guys are being disgusting and I think it’s over, I want to take this opportunity to announce that I got published,” Clint says.

“What? No you didn’t,” Bucky says. “You don’t even do any research! Did you write your crime novel?”

“No, I gave up on that because I can’t spell handkerchief.”

“You used it that much?”

“Yes, it was important to the plot. But anyway, Bruce kept talking about deer and about our theory about greed and hubris so I published the paper.”

“Who published it?” Bruce demands.

“Um, I don’t know? I just know that it’s apparently ‘wildly new’ among ecologists.”

“This doesn’t sound right, but I don’t know enough about scientific publishing to prove it,” Bucky says. “Congrats, Clint? I guess?”

Bruce grins.

He’s happy to be home.

Even if he just learned that they have to deal with some FBI chump about inspections. But that’s okay.

#b99 au #ANYWAYS. AMAZING.#lovelyirony writes #yes i will fucking roast reed richards within an inch of my life #fantastic four #avengers #bruce banner #thorbruce #thor #give thor his husband back!!!!!#also yes clint can't spell handkerchief i had to look it up for this

45 notes · View notes

miss-pearlescent · 4 years

Text

Tag Team (IV)

Chapter: I II IIIᴹ IV V VI VII VIII IX Xᴹ

When Kai had grabbed the guard standing at the side of the laboratory doors, he did not expect the guard to be so light...or scream like a girl.

Nor did he expect the guard to cry in a corner for hours after he had brought her to his cell.

Kai had planned this out for days after he had woken up. He wanted revenge and payment for everything he’d been promised. He’d gone through weeks of hell and was treated like a slave after all the experiments.

He had thought he would get the upper hand if he could kidnap a high-ranking guard and hold them hostage until he got what he wanted. He thought anybody left to guard the laboratory was high enough on the ranking that they’d be important.

But no way the crying woman that was glued to the wall could have been an important asset to Kai’s enemies.

Kai cursed under his breath when he heard another sniffle from the other end of the room. That was the only sound she would make ever since he grabbed her hours ago. Nothing he said could make her talk...not that he had spoken to her much.

As soon as he had taken her, he put the cuffs he’d stolen around her tiny wrists and then pulled her behind him as he ran toward his cell where he’d spent the last few weeks.

The moment he pulled off her helmet and saw the watery eyes and wet cheeks, he knew he had made a mistake.

But there had to be a reason why she was the sole guard left to man the laboratory doors. Kai kept her cuffed while he interrogated her, but she would not say a word. She just kept looking at the ground while fat tears dripped to the floor.

He couldn’t bring himself to threaten her, not when her lip trembled after he raised his voice even a little. She reminded him too much of his older sister who often took the blame whenever he got them into trouble back in town. She would always shut down and take it, no matter that none of it was her fault.

He refused to be the one to hurt this woman who happened to be caught in a bad situation by circumstance.

But now he was stuck in a rut. He couldn’t let the woman go; that would only land him in a ton of shit and without any leverage. But it had been hours and nobody had come looking for her. Obviously she was not as important as he had thought.

Another sniff from the other side of the room made Kai’s head hang low. Guilt was starting to seep into his bones.

Then a faint grumble.

Some days, Kai was glad he had ultra sensitive hearing.

He grabbed an energy bar from under his bed, ones that tasted sweet and salty—his favourite—and walked over to the corner where the woman cowered.

And man, did she cower.

Even though her back was facing him, her body seemed to shrink even smaller when his shadow approached her.

“Here,” he said softly, not wanting to make her jump. “Food.”

He came around and held the snack out to her.

But she seemed to be on a hunger strike because though she looked at the energy bar with longing, she shook her head.

“It’s safe to eat,” he said. When she still didn’t take it, he let out a sigh and took a seat in front of her. “I’m not trying to starve you.” The energy bar would keep her full for a couple of hours.

Her only response was to cross her legs under her, farther away from him, as she wiped the fresh tears from her face.

Man, how long could somebody cry before they dehydrated themselves?

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, the one he usually used to wipe his sweat on his training days, and held it out to her.

When she refused to take that too, he decided to wipe her cheeks for her.

He took it as a good sign when she didn’t pull away, but she did close her eyes and shake a little.

Then more tears fell, and he felt like the ultimate asshole.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured, but he knew no matter what he said, he wouldn’t be able to convince her.

Would he trust somebody who kept him prisoner?

He let out a mental laugh because that was exactly what he did when he left his home in search of work to support his family.

After he dabbed her cheeks for a bit longer, he pressed the handkerchief to her hand, leaving it for her when she needed it. “What’s your name?” he asked, because he was tired of being the bad guy in this situation. “I’m Kai.”

She stared down at the wrinkled handkerchief. It was worn down but there was a clear K embroidered in the corner with black thread. Her gaze flickered upwards to his face and he could see the tears that made her eyelashes clump together. “I’m Joori,” she said.

The gears in Joori’s head turned back and forth. A few hours ago, she was on a mission to rescue a kidnapped teammate, and now she was the one kidnapped. Her anxious brain wouldn’t stop telling her that she was going to die here.

Why?

Her teammates had made no contact.

And her kidnapper proved to be stronger and faster than most humans when he had dragged her up and down dozens of hallways. Her teammates didn’t stand a chance even if they did find her in this jail cell.

But now her kidnapper was being kind to her. And she had a name for him.

Kai.

If she could pretend to be his friend, he might spare her.

So she offered him her name.

She watched as he unwrapped the granola bar he had brought and broke the bar in half, handing one half to her while he took a bite out of his half.

Her stomach growled once again and she couldn’t say no. She was really hungry.

She stuffed the granola bar into her mouth, almost moaning at how sweet and chewy it was. Her eyes were fixated to the ground as she chewed slowly, but she paid close attention to all of Kai’s movements.

Just in case.

The only sound in the small room was that of the crinkling wrapper as she folded it in her fingers.

Then Kai was holding out his unfinished half of the granola bar to her.

She looked up, surprised, and shook her head.

He lifted his chin, indicating she should take his offer. “C’mon, I’m sure they feed you guys well up there, but this is pretty good right? You’ll never get another chance to have it ever again if you don’t take it now.” She didn’t know what he meant, but when she still didn’t accept his offer, he added, “Don’t worry, I have a whole stash.”

Fine, if he said so.

Joori took the rest of the granola bar and popped it in her mouth in one bite.

Kai turned and leaned against the wall, resting his arm on a bent knee. She studied his physique, needing to find some weakness.

Except his arms looked like he lifted elephants for a living, and his grey eyes made him look out of this world.

How was she supposed to run from him?

She looked down at the cuffs around her wrists, knowing they were a special brand. When she had tried to get out of them, spikes grew out and poked painfully at her skin even with the sleeves of the guard suit in the way. It was an interesting prototype, if only they weren’t keeping her trapped here.

She was too small and weak to run. All she could do was wait.

“Joori?” a female voice rang out in her right ear.

She tried not to gasp.

They finally contacted her. Her teammates finally—

Her shocked gaze flickered up as Kai’s head turned her way. She held her breath and begged for silence.

“Joori, are you there?”

No, no, no. That was too loud. Her ear piece seemed to be on max volume.

But no way Kai could hear that, could he?

He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward. Maybe if she kicked him in the balls right now, he would pass out and she could run.

Where the heck would she run?

Joori cleared her throat as she heard her name being called out again. She couldn’t let him hear her only source of communication with her people.

But he seemed to know exactly where the sound came from as he crept closer and brushed her hair behind her ear.

It wasn’t visible on the outside, but the microchip was loud enough if you pressed your ear against the user’s ear. That’s exactly what Kai did.

“Joori, can you hear me? We’re coming for you so please stay safe, okay?”

She was both relieved and scared. Her team was coming to rescue her, but they were also coming back to a danger zone. She wanted to tell them to stay back, to leave her here to figure things out herself like she’d always done.

It was hard to have people care for you.

“If you can hear this,” Kai’s voice was deep and low as he whispered in her ear, his warm breath brushing the hairs on her neck. “You have forty-eight hours to produce $500 000 as payment for your Joori.”

Joori could only hear a tiny gasp on the other end. If her body wasn’t frozen in fear, she would’ve totally kicked Kai in the balls right then. But what would that get her? Probably a kick in the head right back.

“She will be at the Rich Valley escarpment at sunset. If you don’t have the money, then you won’t have Joori either.”

Joori went cold. Rich Valley escarpment was one of the highest cliffs in the country, looking over white water rapids. She could only guess that if her team didn’t produce the money, then Kai would throw her over the edge.

“Copy.” A man’s voice came through her earpiece. It must have been Jongin.

Then silence.

Joori closed her eyes as Kai pulled away. When she had been recruited by her uncle to join his unit of spies as their developer, she had expected to be behind a desk, tinkering away at gadgets and weapons. Never had she thought she would actually be on the front lines.

This line of work is dangerous. Mr. Lee had told her. She had nodded in agreement but her naivety got the best of her. Now here she was, a hostage who couldn’t even do anything to save herself.

---

Mwahahaha! Kidnapping! Hostages! Stockholm Syndrome? >:) Anything is possible in the world of ~fanfiction~

I’m putting this chapter out a little earlier than usual because I’m going to be pretty busy this weekend but also because OBSESSION IS OUT! WHOO!

#exo #kai #exo scenarios #kai scenarios #exo fanfiction #kai fanfiction #jongin #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfiction #tag team #superm

39 notes · View notes

quirkykayleetam · 5 years

Note

How about "Sadistic Choice" for BTHB?

Sadistic Choice

Taken from the Broken Pieces Universe. If you want to get caught up, the previous section is Broken Pieces pt. 3: Hands. TW for light vomiting and the misgendering of our non-binary protagonist.

Jay wasn’t sure how long it was before the Faceless Men switched over to psychological torture. They only remembered the Faceless Man’s shoes.

The door to their cell burst open, blinding them with light. They resisted the urge to fight back against the now-bloody zip ties that cut ragged lines through their skin.

Only, no punches came, no choking ice water, just a man in a white mask with a tray and two drinks. Unlike the others, his shoes weren’t steel-toed boots made for washing off blood after kicking bruises into Jay’s prone body. They were soft brown loafers that stood out against the harsh metal all around.

“I’ve heard so much about you, Mr. Young,” the man drawled, dropping the tray in front of Jay, just shy of his mutilated fingers. “You’ve been giving my superiors a whole lot of trouble. Now they’ve sent me down here to talk some sense into you.”

Jay tried to concentrate on the man’s speech, but they couldn’t take their eyes off the drinks. Their stomach growled.

“Ah yes, those,” the man said. “You haven’t eaten in quite some time, I expect. Of course, you’ll have to be on a liquid diet for a while since none of us want to hand feed you.”

He held up a finger.

“There’s a catch though.”

Jay wasn’t surprised. They were tired. They were so tired and hungry that if it wasn’t for the zip tie strapping their neck to the wall they would have collapsed in their chair. They couldn’t give the Men what they wanted, they’d made sure of that. Now they just wanted this to end.

“Both of these high-calorie protein drinks are drugged. Nasty side effects in these things.”

The man shook his head regretfully.

“But you know what? At least I’ll give you a chance to pick your poison. I’ll describe the effects of both of them, go into as much detail as you want. All you have to do is give me a name.”

Jay looked at the man, scared and confused.

The man leaned closer.

“Come on, Mr. Young. I know you’re not ready to give us the passcodes and, you know what, that’s fine by me. But I’m sure you remember something. Come on! A smart man like you, staring at the same spreadsheets day after day. The information is there. It’s in that head of yours. Give us one name from Morgan Security’s financials and I bet I can cut you some slack around here. I’d get that zip tie off your neck for a start, let you relax a bit.”

Jay closed his eyes.

The man was right. Jay could see it. They didn’t have an eidetic memory, but they could remember what they were working on the day they’d been captured. The company had just gotten a new client, an investor named Edward Blake. He’d just experienced a boom in his entrepreneurial endeavors and wanted to diversify. His name, his social security number, his company account, even his brand new address were right there in Jay’s head. Of course, so was Blake’s picture. He stood in front of his new two-story house with his wife Cheryl, their two-year-old daughter, Cassie, clutched tight in her arms. Internally, Jay took one look at Cassie’s red hair, her dark, bright eyes…

“Mr. Young is my father,” they said. “I’ll take the one on the right.”

Jay thought they had finally lucked out for once. The Faceless Man left, they sucked down a drink that tasted like…well they’d rather not think about that, but at least it stopped their body from shaking, and they suffered no ill effects. They waited for hours in the dark, listening to the sound of their still ragged breaths.

Then, a red hot poker of pain burst through Jay’s belly. They wanted to move, to curl in on themselves as they stomach revolted, but the zip ties held them firmly in place. Coughing up fire with each breath, they lost all the sustenance they’d gained over the last week. Then the pain left them dry heaving towards the floor.

Agony. All Jay felt was hot, internal agony, but they didn’t dare open their mouth for fear of spewing up even worse.

When they opened his eyes, the man was back.

“Jonathan, Jonathan, Jonathan… I’m guessing last night wasn’t too pleasant. I mean, look at you! You’re pale and shaking life a leaf!”

He lifted a handkerchief to wipe bile of Jay’s mouth. Jay didn’t move.

“I really don’t want to do this to you again, Jonathan, but I’ve got two more drinks for you. All you have to do is give me a–”

“Right,” Jay choked out hoarsely. “Gimme the one on the right.”

This drink, Jay decided, they could survive. Sure, it still tasted like things that would haunt them forever, but the sensations weren’t nearly as violent.

This drug simply made them go numb.

Jay didn’t know their muscles could feel any more tired or that it could be any harder to hold their head up, but this drug did it. It turned their whole being cold, heavy, and foreign. The torturous part was the pins and needles. Each time they moved, if only to breathe or twitch a muscle, that pain filled them. It reached into every corner of Jay’s memory and pricked them like a thousand poison spikes. Then it receded. It wasn’t pleasant, no, but given the choice between this and what they had experienced the other night? Jay decided this wasn’t nearly as bad.

“Looking like you had a better night, huh Jonathan?” the man said, sashaying his way into the cell. “I can tell you one of these drinks has that same drug in it. You can have that doable feeling again, one more time. All you have to do is make the right choice.”

Hungry, exhausted, broken from the start of their encounter, Jay lifted their head just enough to look the man in the face. All they saw was a pair of young, dark, bright eyes.

“Right,” Jay said. “I always choose right.”

Tagging the Broken Pieces Crew (If you want to be added or taken off this list, just let me know!): @stoic-whumpee, @whatwasmyprevioususername, @whumpty-dumpty-fell-off-the-wall, @straight-to-the-pain, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @0idril0, @fallingstormphoenix, @whump-fantasies, @imagination1reality0

#Whump #Original Characters #Bad Things Happen Bingo #Sadistic Choice #Drugged #Stress Position #Defiant #Broken Pieces #Jay #The Faceless Men #Torture #Restrained #quirkykayleetam writes

77 notes · View notes

their-name-is-morgan · 5 years

Note

Yelooo... How about a "You've kissed me about fifty times today" with Okuyasu? Please

Hey! Sorry for the delay, I hope this is worth the wait though❤

Meant to be (You’ve kissed me about fifty times today)

Okuyasu x Reader❤

The sound of your phone ringing was what woke you up from your 2 hours log nap, which you hadn’t planned to take seeing how you were laying on the couch in the most uncomfortable position, with your laptop still on your stomach and the bag of chips you’d forgotten to put away now on the floor.

You lazily grabbed your phone from the coffee table and a gentle smile adorned your face once you were finally able to read the name of who was calling you at 7 in the evening; you pressed the green button on the screen.

“Hello, is Okuyasu there?” you said, doing your best to sound serious, until you heard a small ‘Huh?’ and couldn’t keep a straight face anymore, a small giggle escaping your lips.

“I called you- wait, are you pranking me?” he asked, and you giggled one more time at how easily he’d get confused at this kind of things.

“Yeah, yeah! What’s up though?” you finally asked, genuinely curious. He’d usually call you in the early afternoon or he’d just stop by if he needed something, he was your boyfriend after all, so you didn’t mind having him around.

He excitedly explain –you could tell he was smiling, even through the phone- that he was free the following day and that if you didn’t mind he had something special planned for the both of you. The following day being a Sunday, you didn’t have much to do as it was everyone’s lazy day, so you informed him that you were free also.

“I was thinking that I could pick you up at 5_30? In the afternoon- but it’s okay if you prefer earlier or later!” he quickly added, and you shook your head even though he couldn’t see you.

“5 is fine by me, are youuu planning to bring me to that nice Trattoria you work at?” you asked, picking up the bag of chips and placing it on the small table, “Or some other place I don’t know about yet? Or wait- don’t tell me, I want it to be a surprise!”

You heard him giggle at your behaviour, and you couldn’t help but do the same.

“It’s a surprise babe, I don’t wanna ruin it for you! But… wear something nice- agh, no wait, wear whatever you want! Y-You’ll look nice anyway!” your cheeks flushed, although you hadn’t missed how he was speaking more quickly than usual. You decided not to mention it though, as you guessed it was because he had something on his mind regarding your little date.

“Alright then, impress me, handsome!”

“Woah, that’s an exaggeration!” he stammered, and you rolled your eyes playfully;

“It isn’t, when will you stop putting yourself down?” you gently scolded him, staring at a picture of the two of you which you had saved on your laptop; you even had an entire folder dedicated to various selfies you and Okuyasu took and pictures of you two in general.

“How abouuut…when you will?”

The cute conversation went on for a while as you tidied your living room, which started to resemble a garbage dump less and less. You said your goodbyes after agreeing with each other that it was starting to get late, and you both still had to make and eat dinner, and you assured him that you would’ve been able to talk later.

The next day, you woke up excited; it wasn’t exactly early in the morning when you opened your eyes, as they widened when you glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, which read 12:36 in the afternoon. You let a small sigh escape your lips, maybe playing video games until ungodly hours wasn’t that good of an idea when you were supposed to wake up early and go on a date later…

Nonetheless, you still managed to cook lunch, change into a much more fitting attire and, as any other independent and responsible adult would do, watch videos on YouTube until it was time to leave with Okuyasu –whom picked you up at 5:30 with his brand new, black Nissan Note instead of his motorbike, and gave you a kiss first thing after yelling an ‘Oi, Y/N!’-.

“So,” you started, buckling up the seat belt, “You’re starting to use your car more?”

He shrugged as he started the engine,

“I mean… it was a gift for my 18th birthday, so I might as well use it. Plus…isn’t it more romantic to drive you somewhere with a car, instead of a motorbike?” he asked, causing you to snort.

“I guess so, your motorbike isn’t bad though- it’s just that the damn helmet always messes up my hair!”

“Hey, I thought that was just my problem! Why the hell didn’t ya tell me sooner? I’ve felt so alone this entire time…” he jokingly admitted, pouting slightly as you rolled your eyes and let out another giggle.

The 20 minutes drive seemed to fly by as you chatted about all, you were so engulfed with the conversation that you almost didn’t notice the beautiful scenery out of the car window- you guessed he was taking you to a restaurant with sea view.

As you finally arrived, he parked his car and gently placed a hand on your shoulder as if to stop you from opening the door.

“W-Wait, let me get that for you.” He said, getting out of the car and making his way to your side so he could open the door for you. You felt your cheeks and ears getting warmer as he even held your hand so he could help you stand up.

“That…was so sweet, Oku,” you said, beaming. His own cheeks got crimson and he quickly kissed you on the forehead, your hand still in his.

“Ah, u-uhm, yes, let’s get in, shall we?” he questioned and you nodded, a smile still on your face, partly because of the flustered state he was in.

He lead you inside, and you couldn’t help but notice how fancy the place seemed to be. Each table had a thin, white tablecloth, utensils and blue handkerchiefs placed on it, the wooden floor was so clean that you could almost use it as a mirror, and the pure white walls had been painted on, intricate drawings of the waves and fish –the colours that had been used were soft blues and greens, though- catching your attention immediately.

The restaurant was quite busy, with waiters and waitresses fast-walking from one side to the other, carrying any sort of dish. Your mouth watered at the sight of your favourite food getting served and you couldn’t wait to order something yourself.

Okuyasu seemed to notice this and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by one of the waiters,

“Ah, welcome, miss and mister! Did you book a table?” he asked, a polite smile on his freckled face. Okuyasu took a step forward,

“Uuh, yes, a table for two.” He quickly replied, and he nodded.

“Very well, your last names please?”

“Oh! Nijimura and L/N,”

“Let me lead the way!”

The two of you let him guide you towards one of the tables in the back, from where you could clearly see the sea and the clear sky without anything that could block your visual. You sat down in front of each other and the waiter handed you the Menus, informing you that he would be back soon to take your orders. You both thanked him and smiled, seeing how he had been nothing but sweet.

After a few minutes you were ready to order; you decided to eat your favourite meal while Okuyasu settled for caprese salad with pesto sauce –in honour of Tonio, you guessed, and he grinned when you asked him-.

“This is a fancy restaurant, by the way. Did you see how much some of the stuff costs? I hope the dessert isn’t too expensive, I forgot to look at the prices of that-“ you glanced at your boyfriend and he shook his head.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, it’s my treat!” he reassured you, he was being very sweet. You wondered why as you kept talking to each other; maybe he had a surprise for you? He was dressed so nicely, too- he wore a dark blue blazer with a white buttoned up shirt underneath, dark blue trousers and elegant black shoes. You panicked for a moment realizing that maybe you should’ve worn something a bit more elegant, too…

When the food finally arrived it was already 6 pm –understandable since there were so many people to serve, so you didn’t complain- the sound of people talking and utensils clattering filling the large room you were in, as you and Okuyasu started to talk about how good the food tasted and how nice the place was, to then move on to how both of you were pretty much settled with the job you had –Okuyasu had brought that up, a smile on his face, and you went along with it but you didn’t miss the fact that his nervousness had started to increase-.

As the sun started to set, causing the sky to change its colour from a bright blue to pink and red hues, and the sea gradually became calmer, you glanced out of the large window, sorbet in one hand and straw in the other to support it every time you would take a sip. Said window was slightly opened, and you couldn’t complain about the fresh breeze, which was making your hair gently move without messing it up as you feared.

“Thank you so much for taking me here by the way, Okuyasu,” you said, your smile growing as his cheeks tinted pink once again.

“That is…really the least I could do for making me the happiest guy in Mor-“ ‘Shit, no, I’m fucking this up- Morioh is so small!’ he mentally scolded himself, “…the happiest guy in the world!” he responded, his hands nervously shaking despite the weather being sunny and the temperature being quite warm.

“Hey, I could say the same, find me a guy who can make me laugh with his dumb jokes and then takes me out to the most romantic dinner ever,” you said, placing the small cup made of glass on the table, both of your desserts –he had ordered choco strawberry cone flavoured ice cream, as always- finished.

“I thought I was enough, though!” he joked, and as you laughed he leaned forward to quickly kiss your nose. You quirked as eyebrow.

“You’ve kissed me about fifty times today, why is that?” you couldn’t help but ask, though you kept smiling.

“That- might be because I wanted to tell you something very important,” he started, taking your hand in his. You weren’t sure why, but your breathing quickened. You feared it was something bad, but then again, Okuyasu had always been so sweet, why would he take you out and then tell you something that’d make you cry?

“Go on, I’m all ears.”

“S-So, uh, you know I’m no good with words but… we’ve been dating for years and…in these years, I realized that I was so dumb in high school, I was jealous of Josuke because he had all those girls surrounding him and nobody really cared about me,” he took a deep breath, his gaze never meeting yours, his eyes wandering in any other direction, “That is, until I met you, and I realized that…it…didn’t really matter anymore, how many girls were interested in me, or whatever. Because, I mean, why would it when you’re here by my side? And I know this was probably really simple and maybe it sounded stupid,”

He stood up, careful not to make a fool of himself by tripping or making something fall. Meanwhile, you finally realized what was going on, and your heart began racing as you noticed him getting closer, hands clenched in his pockets, and everyone else silently staring at you, almost expectantly. He kneeled on the floor, making everyone –including you- audibly gasp. You didn’t even try to hold back the huge smile on your face, and it seemed to be the same for Okuyasu.

“…but I don’t think I need anyone else with me, when we’re together, s-so… Y/N, amore mio,” he finally whipped the ring box out of his pocket, and opened it, revealing a gorgeous engagement ring that you couldn’t wait to have on your finger, “Will you marry me?”

You, at a loss of words, simply bobbed your head up and down, tears threatening to fall from your eyes, while Okuyasu was already in tears the moment you nodded. He quickly stood up and you threw your arms around his neck, embracing him so tight that your chests were touching and your head rested in the crook of his neck, while his rested in yours. You could hear the people cheering as Okuyasu broke the tight hug to slide the ring onto your finger, only to sweetly kiss you afterwards, his cheeks still wet with tears and his lips slightly quivering.

Once you could finally speak again, you chuckled, and he tilted his head in confusion.

“Did Tonio teach you that?”

“W-What?”

“Amore mio. It means ‘my love’ in Italian,”

He raised his eyebrows in realization and he, strangely enough, looked away,

“Well, yeah, he did, but I’m also…kind of learning Italian? On my own?”

You let an almost inaudible ‘Wow’ escape from your mouth and he seemed proud of himself, as he slightly smirked.

“That’s so cool, should I expect a wedding speech in Italian then?” you questioned, half joking and half serious.

“Hey, don’t expect too much from me now!”

“Nah, don’t worry.” ‘I only expect you to be the best husband ever. I know you will be.’ You though, as he excitedly told you your next destination- the Arcade.

#jojos bizarre adventure #jjba #jojo #okuyasu #Okuyasu Nijimura #x reader #jjba x reader #jojo x reader #Diamond is Unbreakable #gender neutral reader #okuyasu x reader

73 notes · View notes

post-itpenny · 4 years

Text

Glow

@grotesquegabby As requested, something with the fairies.

The sky was dark and threatening rain as Alex strolled up to the large manor that sat at the far corner of a group of warehouses. No one seemed to notice him, but then again, no one seemed to notice the manor or it’s effect on the environment. Roads made of pastel cobblestones, otherworldly plants creeping up the sides of buildings, small specks of light floating around. It seemed the Elder of Creation’s home was slowly contaminating the world around it.

Whatever, it looked more fun this way.

Alex didn’t bother to knock on the door, no need when the building recognized him. Casually letting himself in with a whistle.

“Whatsup Lady Luck!” Alex shouted as he closed the door behind him, blocking out the distant rumble of thunder.

There was a small buzzing sound, from one hall came a small fluttering creature that couldn’t be more than a foot tall. Her tiny wings being the source of the noise.

“Good afternoon sir!” She greeted in a small voice. “How may I- EEK!”

Fanny launched at the creature only to miss as it dogged out of the way and flew behind Alex, peeking over his hat at Fanny who now swiveled around in confusion.

Alex chuckled and scooped Fanny up in his arms. “Hey now little lady, Fanny just wants to say hello.”

The creature hovered above Alex’s shoulder, now that he could see her properly the little creature looked like a fairy. A small thing with translucent wings and a dress made of what looked to to be flower petals. Alex snickered, of course Magpie would have stereotypical fairies flying around her house.

The little fairy inched closer to Fanny, reaching out to gently pat the creature’s head. Fanny made a strange purring sound, the little fairy giggling as she settled on Alex’s arm to scratch Fanny under her chin.

“See? We’re all friends here, and speaking of I’m looking for my friend Magpie. Is she hanging around somewhere?”

The little fairy floated up till she was eye level with Alex and gave a tiny curtsy. “My apologies sir, my name is Peasblosom and I serve the lady of this house. If this is Fanny then might I ask if you’re Mr. Calamity? My mistress has spoken often of you.”

Alex chuckled, “yeah that’d be me, call me Alex.”

“Mr. Alex, it's a pleasure to meet you. My lady is currently working in the theater. She is setting up something for an upcoming performance that promises to be totally lit.”

“That’s cool but just call me…” Alex paused as he realized what Peasblosom said. Giggling to himself as he followed along as she led him through a large set of double doors.

The theater was large and grand, a space that in no way should have been able to fit inside the building however Alex was the least bit surprised Magpie was branding reality to fit the space. Everywhere thin clear strings hung, not seeming to have any particular rhyme or reason to them.

Magpie herself was perched atop a tall ladder fixing a string of some sort. Hovering around her were two other fairies. One stitching the hem of Magpie’s jacket and the other rattling off a schedule to her.

“Looks like you got yourself a little squad going on here,” Alex laughed.

Magpie turned in surprise, grinning when she saw who had spoken, “Alex! Just give me one second, I think you’ll rather like this.”

She adjusted something on the string before instructing the two fairies to hang it back up with the others.

“I’ve been setting this up all day, suppose I could have done it in a snap but sometimes it’s so nice just to take the time to make something! So then, ready?”

Alex sat down in one of the seats kicking his feet up. “Aiight, lets see what you got.”

Magpie clapped her hands, the lights flicked off in the theater revealing a myriad of colors swirling across the ceiling and walls in intricate patterns. The strings glowed in the dark apparently. Undulating in some unfelt wind making the colorful patterns move up and down like waves on the sea.

Alex gave a whistle at the spectacle, “looks like a rave Lady Luck. All you need is some good music.”

Magpie giggled, her eyes glowing in the dim light. “I have been putting music more and more to my shows, it makes things more fun.”

She clapped her hands again and the lights came back on. Fanny launched herself at Magpie’s face just as the magician climbed down from the ladder.

One of the fairies began to panic, tugging at Fanny and yelling.

“Shush, shush!” Came Magpie’s muffled command as she pulled Fanny off her head and cuddled the creature. “I’m just fine Mustardseed, see? Fanny wanted to say hello.”

Magpie handed Fanny back to Alex before pulling out a handkerchief to clean her face with. “It’s wonderful as always to have you Alex. You and Fanny are just in time for-“

CRASH!

A large stack of props tumbled down from one side of the stage.

“Cobweb!”

A fourth fairy rolled out of the rubble, sitting up with a guilty grin, “hey.”

Magpie frowned, tapping her foot as she waited for an explanation.

The fairy called Cobweb chuckled before clearing his throat. “M-my bad mistress. I’ll clean it up after tea.”

Magpie smiled with a shake of her head, “well all of you do come here and introduced yourself. This is my friend Alex.”

At this the four little creatures lined up in a row, all giving a polite nod except Cobweb who crossed his arms with a huff.

Magpie however was too excited to notice- “Alex I want you to meet my four new assistants! Peasblosom, Cobweb, Moth, and Mustardseed.”

“Hello again Mr. Alex!”

“Afternoon sir.”

“Hello sir.”

“.... Sup.”

Alex chuckled, “Cool to meet you all, and it’s just Alex.”

They all soon made their way to the parlor. Outside the weather had grown stormy as rain beat against the windows.

Magpie poured four tiny cups of tea and a cup of hot kool-aid for Alex before turning to fix her own cup. “So what does kool-aid actually taste like?”

“You haven’t tried it? Whaaat? I mean most people drink it cold but here, take a sip.”

Magpie gingerly took the cup and took a sip, Alex just catching the look of panic on Cobweb’s face. Magpie sputtered and slammed the cup down, “it’s salty!”

Three small heads turned to their sibling. Alex calmly taking the cup and gulping its contents down as Cobweb looked on in shock.

“Huh, yeah I guess it is. No big deal, just sorry your first experience with kool-aid wasn’t all that.”

Magpie grabbed the tea pot that held the rest of Alex’s drink and took a sniff, she frowned and snapped her fingers before pouring Alex a fresh cup, a familiar syrupy scent telling him the salt had been changed to sugar.

Magpie took a careful sip, just as surprised as before but not upset, “it’s incredibly sweet but not bad.”

They sat and chatted over drinks and the cookies Magpie had made, Peasblosom curled up with Trouble and Fanny as the other three flew around the room playing.

Alex grinned, “so you made them yeah? You like a mom then Lady Luck?”

Magpie choked on her tea, “I beg your pardon?”

Boom!

The sound of lightning hitting the House was akin to a giant hammer falling down. The lights kicked out as all four fairies shrieked, Alex feeling one of them scurry under his hat as the others crashed into various objects looking for hiding spaces.

Alex looked, eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness, before at last finding Magpie, who surprisingly had not tried to comfort the little creatures.

Magpie herself had curled up in a ball, head ducked down, trembling.

Ah that’s right, Magpie was afraid of the dark herself.

“Hey Lady Luck it’s all good, no need to wig out now.”

Alex scooted his chair closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders with a chuckle, “I’m the scariest thing here anyways.”

At this Maggie gave a small laugh, leaning against him but not uncurling from the ball she was in.

“It’s lonely,” came Peasblosom’s voice from under Alex’s hat, “and cold.”

Alex grinned, “you good up there?”

“Yes.”

“Ouch.”

Magpie finally lifted her head, wincing in pain as apparently Cobweb had tangled himself in her hair.

“Mistress make the lights come back on,” he whined.

Magpie was still trembling, “I-I um, I-“

“Mistreeeeeesssss!”

By this point Moth and Mustardseed had come out of their hiding places to seek refuge in the pockets of Alex’s jacket. “Cobs I can’t even with you right now,” Mustardseed groaned.

“Yeah well why you gotta complain?”

“You’re just being salty because-“

“S-Stop, stop.” Magpie insisted, head buried in Alex’s shoulder.

Alex chuckled, “we’re all fam here now, let's be chill.

“F-fam?” Magpie questioned.

Moth on the other hand was delighted, “he gets it mistress!”

“What a goat!” Peasblosom agreed.

“H-he’s not a goat,” Magpie insisted, “Alex is Alex.”

“Yeah a clown,” Cobweb mumbled.

Alex caught what he said, laughing in response, “yeah I’m a party clown… pal. And I know how to make any time a good time.” Alex patted Magpie’s shoulder, “ol’ Alex will chill with y’all till the lights come back on.”

Magpie seemed to relax slightly, finally uncurling from her tight ball.

From the nest he had made in Magpie’s hair, Cobweb stuck his tongue out at Alex.

Magpie patted the little fairy’s head and shifted a little, seeming to try and concentrate on something. Alex was about to ask what when a dim glow began in her chest, spreading out along the veins of her body as it slowly brightened. A warmth radiating off of her like sunshine.

Alex grinned, “well you do like glow-in-the-dark stuff.”

Magpie chuckled at the joke as Cobweb grumbled and buried himself deeper in Magpie’s hair.

#Congrats Alex #apparently you're the goat

2 notes · View notes

teannamon · 5 years

Text

The Black Cat and the Princess (ML Fic) 5

Cover art by deryuj :>

[ Family Switch AU ] Marinette’s the only child of fashion icon Gabriel Agreste, and Adrien is the adopted child of Sabine and Tom Dupain-Cheng, two of the best bakers in Paris. What happens when their paths meet?

↫ Chapter 4

Chapter 5: Marinette got into an "accident". Kagami and Adrien come to the rescue.

“Good thing this container is plastic” the buff person, who Marinette knew as Kim from the earlier introductions, picked up the big plastic bowl from the floor with a third of its contents still inside.

She has been drenched in, she assumes, orange punch based on the smell. Kim stands up and notices Marinette, dripping with orange punch. The spill was directly aimed at her so she was wet from her shoulders down.

“Oh damn, I’m so sorry Marinette. I think I tripped on something on the way here”

“It’s fine, Kim” she said rather coldly. She wasn’t mad at Kim; she knows exactly what tripped him and damn her for not paying attention. Her stockings and jacket are starting to itch on her skin now so she took off her jacket first while walking to somewhere more isolated. “I’ll just…go”

“What did you do to the punch, freshman?!” a loud female voice boomed through the loud music. Marinette figured she didn’t need to be there so she didn’t bother to turn around to see and kept going to the bathroom.

“It was an accident ok, chill… I’ll have it covered with rags later so no one else can get into an accident like her” he pointed to Marinette making her way awkwardly to the bathroom.

“I want it done now, freshman, you’re lucky most of the people are dancing”

“Alright, alright… Also, I have a name you know it’s Ki-hey where are you going?!”

“To check on the damage” she replied coolly as she left Kim to take care of the spillage by the table.

Marinette entered the bathroom just as two other girls left. They didn’t seem to notice the state of Marinette’s outfit or they didn’t care, either way she was grateful for it.

She dropped her jacket by the counter and entered one of the stalls to take off her stockings. Apparently even her shoes weren’t safe from the punch incident so she took those off too.

‘What am I going to do with the rest now?’ she looked at her dress, because of its color it’s unnoticeable that it’s wet but the front part is soaked with and smells of orange punch, not to mention her body is uncomfortably itchy now.

‘I’ll just go home, no use enjoying the party in wet and itchy clothes no matter how branded it is’ she left the stall barefoot with her shoes in one hand to grab her phone from her jacket she left on the counter. Just then, someone opened the bathroom door to which Marinette jumped in surprise.

“You” the person approached her. It was Kagami from the booth, Marinette recognized. She pointed to herself, not really getting what Kagami is implying, “Me?”

“Are you the girl who got drenched in punch or are you just doing laundry in the bathroom?”

“Uhm I-”

“That was a rhetorical question” Kagami cuts off before Marinette could answer. She eyes her up and down, which makes Marinette really uncomfortable. The need to leave the vicinity was stronger than ever.

“Is your undershirt soaked?”

The blunette fidgeted, “The thing is, I’m not wearing any. Look, I can just call my driver and I can go back home without causing too much trouble” she gestured to her phone, still in her jacket’s pocket.

“Look, freshman… I may not be the kindest person here but I would know how uncomfortable walking barefoot in juice soaked clothes is. So just follow my lead and let me help you before you go waltzing out of here, understand?” her tone is one that sounds like a command you don’t want to say no to, so naturally the poor girl nodded in agreement.

“Good, now get into one of these stalls and take off your dress.” She said while wetting her handkerchief in the faucet then squeezing out the excess water out of it. Meanwhile, Marinette did as she was told.

She actually felt relieved once the sticky clothes left her skin even though she’s been reduced to her underwear, and still has some lingering stickiness in her skin.

“Here, you can wipe off your body with this” Marinette looked up the stall to see Kagami’s hand holding out her damp handkerchief.

“T-thanks” she stammered as she reached out for the item.

“Stay here, freshman, I’ll be right back”

“I have a name you know, It’s Mar-aand she’s gone” she said as she heard the main bathroom door closed. She looked at the damp handkerchief before finally wiping the sticky substance off her body.

It only took a few minutes and she finally felt like her body can breathe. Kagami still hasn’t returned though and she’s feeling awfully lonely in the bathroom. Her phone is still at her jacket that’s still at the counter.

‘Should I get go out and get it? I really need to text Chloe, right now. It’s not like anyone’s gonna enter, it’s been quiet for five minutes in here’ she thought as she left the stall in her underwear.

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

“Alya, no” Adrien protested.

“Alya, yes” the brunette mocked as she gulped the unknown substance. The small crowd gasped as her face grimaced, “Ew it was vinegar!”

“I told you so, and did you listen? No” it was Adrien’s turn to tease his friend as Nino gave her a cup of water to wash down the awful taste. He gave the couple two thumbs up as Nino took Alya by her arm and led her to the bar stool.

Seeing them together made him remember about Marinette and how she’s sort of his responsibility. ‘If Chloe asks me where she is and I don’t know, I’m dead’

“Hey Dupain-Cheng, where’s Marinette?”

‘Speak of the devil’ he cursed himself for speaking too soon. He turned around to see Chloe with a red stain on her grey blouse, and he can only guess why she’s looking for her so early.

“I’m gonna go see her now, actually. Lila just wanted to talk to her in private”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Just tell her that I’ll wait for her in the car cause some idiot spilled my cherry wine while dancing” she flared as she walked towards the exit.

“O-kay?” he waved at her confused. After all these years, he still couldn’t understand Chloe’s personality. Sometimes she’s reasonable and logical, most of the times she complains about the smallest things.

‘Back to Marinette then’ he turned around but was met with Lila’s smiling face. The music turned into a slow dance and she stepped forward, “Do you wanna dance?” she asked but before he can say ‘no’ or ‘yes’ for that matter she already draped her arms around his neck and pulled him close to sway to the music.

He didn’t mind dancing with Lila but right now, his priority is Marinette. ‘Wait, if Lila is here’

“I thought you and Marinette were talking?” he asked as Lila rested her head on his chest lovingly.

“She just had more important things to do, I don’t know where she went. She didn’t even let me finish what I was telling her, I didn’t know she was so rude” she lied.

“Maybe it was something important” he suggested.

Just then someone bumped into them causing Lila to let go of her grip on Adrien and fell on the floor.

“Hey what gives!”

“Watch it with the moves, freshman!” the person who bumped into them yelled.

“Kagami?” Adrien called out, he noticed her holding a set of gym clothes. “What’s that for?”

She turned around “Oh Adrien, yeah your new designer friend just got a whole bowl of punch spilled on her. Pretty bad situation if you ask me”

His face turned into deep worry, “Where is she now? Is she ok?”

In the middle of this, Lila gritted her teeth. Adrien didn’t even help her get up and now he’s worrying over a girl he just met for a week! She’s been classmates with him for 2 years now, and she even pulled some strings to make sure she would have at least the same classes as him but he still only saw her as a close acquaintance (friends if you squint hard enough).

“She’s fine, I just need to bring her these gym clothes I asked from Luka’s sister and it’s all good from there”

“Kagami, I need you backstage right now”

She turned around looking annoyed, “Can’t it wait, Luka?”

“Nope” the guy answered casually. She rolled her eyes and sighed, “Fine just give me a minute”

Luka winked as she patted her shoulder, “Thanks”

Kagami shoved the clothes into Adrien’s hands, “She’s at the bathroom, give these to her and tell her to give them back to me” and with that she left.

Adrien nodded and took off to the direction of the bathroom, completely forgetting about Lila, not even saying goodbye. Lila groaned in frustration and walked somewhere to cool off, she’ll deal with the Marinette situation sooner or later she thought.

Without skipping a beat Adrien opened the bathroom door, only to see Marinette standing wearing nothing but her underwear her phone in her hand.

It took both of them a silent minute to realize the situation at hand, then they simultaneously reacted. Marinette shrieking while covering herself with her hands and Adrien closing the door behind him, still clutching the gym clothes. Both of them blushing.

Adrien was the first one to calm down so he opened the door just a crack to talk to her, “I’m sorry, I just came here to bring you the clothes you can change into” he extended his hands inside to hand her the clothing.

Marinette was still too embarrassed to respond but moved closer to the door. “T-thanks, Adrien” she grabbed the clothes and she has never changed so quickly in her life up until now.

She sucked in a deep breath and breathed out, “I’m ok now you can come in if you want so it wouldn’t be weird talking through a door”

He opened the door and went inside the bathroom to see her now clothed in Juleka’s gym clothes. She walked around the bathroom to grab all her stuff, once she had them all she placed them in a neat pile on the counter.

The outfit was a bit tight on Marinette and Adrien couldn’t help but admire her form. It seems that she takes care of her body extensively. She looked at him to say something and he averted his eyes quickly to hide the fact he was checking her out.

“I’m sorry you had to bring my clothes instead of enjoying the party, I may not know what a teenage party is but I do know its not ‘hanging out in the bathroom with a messy Marinette’” she joked, the previous embarrassment dwindling down.

“It was nothing, I am supposed to be your adorkable guide for tonight” he said with a curt bow to which Marinette chuckled.

“Well, thanks again. I feel bad for asking Chloe to leave early”

“About that, she kinda had the same problem as you so she told me she’s waiting for you at the car. And now that I think about it, that’s an understatement considering you had to take off your whole outfit”

“Let me guess, a stain on her blouse?”

“Exactly” he answered and both of them laughed. Marinette decided it was a good time to go so she grabbed her damp clothes and wet shoes from the floor.

“I guess, I’ll go then.”

“No wait” Adrien took off his cardigan and draped it over Marinette “It’s going to be cold out”

The cardigan went past the shorts she was wearing so it actually warmed her as soon as she was wrapped in it. The two of them walked out and luckily most of the people are either drinking, dancing or leaving at this point. He saw Alya and Nino dancing and he noted it when he comes back.

The blunette was about to walk into the crowd to get to the exit when Adrien pulled her back by the shoulders. “There’s a side door here you can walk out to instead” he pointed at a small hallway behind him.

“Oh, thank god, I was worried I’m gonna trip somewhere in the crowd and drop everything” she gestured to her stuff and that was the only time Adrien noticed she was actually barefoot.

He thought of giving her his shoes to walk out but he realized that it was unsanitary, so he applied the second-best method of not letting her walk out barefoot. Carrying her.

“Let me” he said as he bent down to pick her up.

“What are you-ah! Put me down, I can walk you know” she protested as she held her things tighter with her hand and the other clutching on his shoulder lest she fall.

“I know that but as a damsel in distress with no shoes to walk in, its my noble duty to guide you” he said with a cheeky grin as he walked her out in his arms and Marinette’s cheeks heat up at the sweet gesture.

“Dork” she mumbled under her breath.

Adrien spotted Chloe’s limo and walked towards it. Chloe must’ve spotted them from far away cause she opened the door urging him to hurry up with her friend.

He set her down the car seat and she thanked him. Ignoring Adrien, Chloe bombarded Marinette with questions so she just smiled and waved goodbye at Adrien as the car doors automatically closed and started moving.

She wrapped the cardigan tighter around her and thought about how she would explain her appearance to her father when she gets home.

↬ Chapter 6 ↬ AO3 Link

I will dedicate this chapter to this beautiful fanart by Luminous_Lilypad on reddit (link here to see their other amazing artworks too). Its their rendition of Mari's party outfit and its adorable :>

I will publish spinoffs after this fic is done. Already plan on The Black Cat and the Princess as told by Chloe and through Lukagami (titles subject to change, feel free to suggest)

Also, I’m adding a taglist for tumblr readers who dont want to follow me but want to follow the story :>

✦ Tag List : @conquering-median

#teanammonfics #blackcatandprincess #miraculous fanfiction #adrienette #adrien agreste #adrinette #marinette dupain cheng #tales of ladybug and cat noir #miraculous ladybug #lila rossi #lukagami #kagami tsurugi #miraculous au #miraculous fanfic #teannamonfics

51 notes · View notes

quiet-night-musings · 3 years

Text

Justine and Just Him (02)

02 - Not All Magic Wands are Pointy Sticks

2. Start a new hobby

"The first thing you need to know is how to make a slip knot for crochet. You need to cast the yarn onto the hook so you can start crocheting. It's simple. Quickly twist and loop the yarn onto the hook, wrap the yarn under the hook and pull it through the loop to tighten. It will look awkward. But don't worry. Just keep practicing and you'll master it."

"What's that?" biglang dumungaw si Tasha sa cellphone ko. "Crochet? You know how to crochet?"

"Just watching. Ang cute, eh," I reasoned out and locked my phone.

I don't know why but of all hobbies that I could think of—crochet ruled out everything else. At first, I picked cross-stitch but I realized that I'd be needing a lot of threads in different colors to complete a project. So I switched to scrapbooking but eventually gave up the idea because I'm not artistic. In the end, crochet it is. Maybe it had something to do with the crochet bikini top I found on an online shop. It's so cute and I want to own one too. When I read the reviews, others mentioned how bad it was made. And that they could make a better piece. It piqued my interest and searched how to make a crochet bikini top.

Voila! I found loads of tutorial videos on YouTube. Natuwa ako nang malaman na ang dami palang magagawa with yarns and a needle. I don't need dozens of colored threads or adhesive and embellishments like in cross-stitch and scrapbooking. Sa crochet, isang kulay lang ng sinulid at isang hook, marami ng magagawa. Maliban sa bikini top, may bikini bottom din pala. Akala ko kasi dati scarf at mga cover-ups lang ang pwede.

My excitement led me to buy a dozen of yarn, new scissors, and crochet needles of different sizes. I already have a plan. I'm going to crochet a bikini top for my best friends. A perfect present if I could finish them all before Christmas. But I'm confident. It's so easy. Or at least I thought.

"Crochet is mag burda?" tanong ni Nadia.

"Embroidery 'yon. Gantsilyo ang crochet," I informed her.

"Di ba pang-matatanda!"

"Sa matatanda lang ba 'yon?" kunot-noong napabaling si Gevi.

"It's a craft for all ages," Tasha interjected.

Thank God sinabi ni Tasha 'yun. Nahiya ako ng kaunti dahil sa sinabi ni Nadia. I almost revealed that I'm learning the craft to surprise them. Now I'm doubting if they will like it. Do they like handmade gifts?

We've known each other for almost six years now and classmates kami since Grade 7. They went to different elementary schools while I studied here since kindergarten. The bond between us four didn't start great.

Nadia envied Tasha, terribly. Tasha was from Australia and their family moved to the Philippines due to her grandmother's condition. She was so sweet and nice when we first met. Akala ko maldita kasi ang nipis ng kilay at parating mukang mataray. But she turned out different from what I thought.

My seatmate was Nadia. Akala ko ang bait-bait. I mean... she's not evil. But in the next days that we sat together, I noticed her remarks on other people, especially to Tasha. She would often make fun of our classmates who can't answer when called. Ang judgemental niya! Nang minsan pa nagkasama kami mag recess, she eyed Tasha with a raised brow, from head to toe. Her smirk and her eye roll didn't escape my sight. Napatanong tuloy ako kung tama na kaibiganin siya.

I thought it was just that one instance. But during lunch breaks, Nadia's eyes would follow Tasha and comment 'Akala mo kung sinong maganda.' Akala ko ako ang sinasabihan niya nung una. But she was quick to honestly tell me she was referring to Tasha. Wala namang ginagawa ang tao sa kanya pero bakit ang init ng dugo niya sa isa. I was hesitant to ask why she was acting that way towards Tasha. They never talked. So why?

Gevilyn, or Gevi as she prefers to be called 'coz she hates the Lyn in her name, was quiet. She would only talk to you if needed. At ang 'needed' na 'yon eh kung tungkol sa K-pop. The girl is a diehard K-pop fanatic. Ang sabi niya nagsimula lang 'yon nang marinig niya ang kanta ng Big Bang sa isang TV show. And it was the same song they danced to during an event. After that, nagsunod-sunod na ang pagkahilig niya sa K-Pop. She surprised me one day when she approached me and talked about EXO. I'm not a fan but I've heard the name. She told me about them like she's the marketing operations manager of the boy group. I enjoyed her company and realized that she was far from the person I thought at first.

Nadia's envy towards Tasha ended when they were paired for a class activity. I don't know exactly what happened and how Nadia transformed into a different person in a matter of a day. Yesterday she was sneering at Tasha, the next day they're giggling together. I didn't ask her or Tasha. The question is still there at the back of my mind though. Maybe I will when the time is right.

We're currently on a break but working on a seat work for the next subject. I studied each of them. Tasha owns knitted scarves and cardigans. I'm positive she will like a crochet bikini top too. Gevi loves to draw and print shirts. She loves the beach and even posted her photos on IG in a bikini. I guess she will love a crochet bikini top. Nadia... she loves branded stuff. I wonder if she will accept my gift.

Ah! Bahala na. I'll make the bikini top first and worry about it when I'm about to give it to them. Why bother now if it hasn't happened yet? Waste of energy.

WHAT A BOLD move to crochet a boho bikini top. I searched for patterns and it only gave me a headache. Iyong akala mong madali kasi yarn at sinulid lang ang kailangan pero sasakit pala ang ulo ko kakabilang kung ilang stiches ang kailangan gawin.

Not only do I need to count the number of stitches. After making a long chain, I have to change stitches in between. There are single crochet, double crochet, and slip stitch.

Natapos ko na ang chain kasi 'yon ang pinakamadaling gawin. Dire-diretso lang hanggang makagawa ng mahabang chain. But the important part of the bikini top is the cup. Iyong tatakip sa dibdib.

"Chain one... turn... single crochet into next 9... three single crochet... single crochet into next 9..." I read the instruction.

Gosh! Ang daming numbers!

Gusto kong ipahinga ang utak ko sa mga numero pero itong ginagawa ko kailangan din pala magbilang. Hindi yata ako tatakasan ng mga numero. Sa school numbers na ang kaharap ko. Even in my new found hobby, numbers pa rin? Ugh!

I went to YouTube. I searched for the easiest DIY tutorial. Iyong less complicated at para talaga sa beginners. I was able to follow on the first two rows. But I got confused when the video skipped and it showed an almost done cup.

"What the hell? Paano naging ganyan 'yan?" I exclaimed.

I didn't notice that I began to sweat. Matindi na rin ang pagkunot ng noo ko kumpara kanina habang nagsisimula pa lang. Sino ba kasi ang hindi mamo-mroblema? I thought I'm watching a step by step tutorial. 'Yong per row ang ituturo. 'Yong sasabayan ang mga beginners sa pag crochet. I don't care how long the video is. I just want a detailed tutorial! Ugh!

Dahil sa sobrang frustration, pinatay ko ang laptop at niligpit ang yarn at needle. I don't want to see them until the week ends. It will only remind me of my impatience.

I was confident that I could finish at least one of the cups tonight. But looks like I have to put this off for the weekend.

NAIWAN AKO NI DAD. Hindi naman niya kasalanan kasi hindi naman talaga ako sumasabay or nagpapahatid sa kanya sa school. I forgot he was going to leave earlier than usual today. May school bus kami at gusto ko na sumakay doon. Minsan diyahe lang kung hindi ko maabutan sa labas ng village then I arrive late during homerooms.

It was only 7:15 and the school bus often passes outside the village by 7:30. Hindi ako nagmadaling maglakad papuntang bus stop. Hindi naman malayo ang bahay namin sa exit. At isa pa, ang ganda kaya ng sikat ng araw kapag ganitong oras. Hindi gaanong mainit at masakit sa mata at balat. Nakaka-relax din kasi maraming mga puno. Gusto ko maglakad sa gitna talaga ng daan pero pumapagilid ako kapag may marinig akong daraan na sasak—

Ugh! So early in the morning at siya pa talaga agad makikita ko?

I instantly halted from walking towards the bus stop when I saw him. He was standing there— one hand in his pant pocket and the other on his backpack strap. He was tapping his left foot, probably listening to a song.

Whatever! Dito na lang ako maghihintay ng bus. Malayo sa kanya! I don't know where this annoyance towards him comes from. Just the sight of him could ruin my day. Gosh, Lord. Napaka-early naman nito. Ano ba ang nagawa kong mali ngayong araw, or kahapon? Hindi ko na uulitin.

Minutes after, the bus arrived. Hinintay ko muna siyang maka akyat bago ako naglakad palapit doon.

Bwes— I stopped from mentally cursing. Hindi dapat. I shouldn't. Maaga pa masyado. Kinalma ko ang sarili pagkatungtong ko sa loob ng bus. Iyong pwesto ko kasi inupuan niya. Ugh! I don't like sitting at the back of the bus but now I need to. Ayaw ko siyang katabi!

"WHAT IS THE ROLE OF BUSINESS FINANCE?"

Walang laman ang utak ko. I studied last night pero walang na-retain? Alam mo 'yong buong gabi ka naman nagbasa at nag-aral pero wala kang mapiga sa utak mo. And I hate it. What if tawagin ako for recitation? Tapos wala akong masagot. That's embarrassing.

"Para kang ipis! Huwag ka magtago diyan," udyok ni Nadia pero hindi ko siya sinunod.

I ducked even lower behind Felix to hide from our lecturer's sight. Good thing Felix has broad shoulders and he sits straight. I noticed his smoothly ironed uniform. I wonder if he washes and irons his uniform. Hmm, I don't think so. Boys are lazy. Si Kuya nga, eh. Never kong nakitang maghugas ng pinggan or magligpit ng plato niya. He would even ask Ate Elvi to wash his handkerchiefs.

I discreetly tittered when I was reminded of that time. May lalaki kayang naglalaba? I glanced at Mond, the guy sitting beside Felix, and his pants were smoothly ironed too. His right socks took a peek when he moved and it was clean. Hmm, he's a rich kid. Hindi siya naglalaba.

Hmm... wala pa kong nakikitang lalaki na naglala—

Oh... I found him at the laundry shop.

I grimaced. Ugh! Bakit siya pa? Bakit siya na naman? I couldn't contain my annoyance when his face flashed into my mind. 'Yong itsura pa niya mismo na mukhang natatawa nung lingunin ko ang naalala ko.

I shook it off my head and sighed heavily before sitting straight.

"Justine, what are the scopes of financial management?"

Great. Just great!

"MUKHA KANG baka na kakatayin!" Nadia's boisterous laugh roared in the hallway.

Ano ba ang mukha ng baka kapag kakatayin na? Silly. I imagined a cow in a slaughterhouse. Ehh... it's gruesome. Sanay na ako sa mga panlalait ni Nadia. Mas malala pa nga noon mga sinasabi niya sa iba kumpara sa ngayon. If there's something I don't want to hear from her, it's her laugh. Her annoying, irritating, and pesky laugh. Iyong malakas na halakhak na nakaka insulto. Ganun!

One time, Gevi shoved a polvoron into her mouth and that shut her up. It was hilarious.

"Nag message ka pa kagabi. Sabi mo nag-aaral ka. Saan na napunta ang inaral mo?" tanong ni Gevi habang nasa pila kami.

I picked chicken cordon bleu for lunch. Favorite kong ulamin kapag nasa school. And we agreed to have it for lunch every Tuesday.

"I don't know really. My mind just went blank," I replied and we went to our table.

"Nasaan ba ang isip mo kanina at nawalan ng laman yang brains mo?" tanong ni Nadia.

"Brain. Isa lang ang brain ng tao, Nadia," Gevi corrected her which Nadia didn't mind. Her eyes are somewhere. "Mabuti nasagutan mo ang follow-up question. Kung hindi, baka nakatayo ka the whole time."

I sipped on my banana milk before responding. "Yeah. Ayun lang din ang pumasok sa isip ko. I should focus. Kailangan ko bumawi."

"Nakatatak ka na kay Ms. Be ready in the next meeting," Gevi advised.

"Your sweet and chili sauce, ladies," Tasha joined us with the sauce for the cordon bleu that Gevi and I forgot. Nilagyan ko naman ng tig-iisang kutsara at tinidor ang mga plato namin.

"Wait! May kukunin lang ako." We all stared at Nadia's retreating back when she hurriedly left.

"Strange," Tasha remarked and started eating.

Yeah, strange. But I just shrugged it off and started eating.

Pero susubo pa lang ako, napapapikit ako kaagad. I look stupid. Probably.

Nakapikit, nakanganga at may hawak na kutsara sa ere nang pumasok siya sa cafeteria. Of all times, why now? On my first bite pa talaga? Hindi ba pwedeng pagkatapos ko na kumain siya magpakita para naman magkaron ako ng gana?

"Are you okay?" Tasha inquired. Napansin niya siguro ang pagbuntong hininga ko. "I thought you like this ulam. Loss of appetite?"

Umiling lang ako at sinimulan na ang pagkain. Pero nawalan nga talaga ako ng gana. Nakakainis. Nasira ang umaga ko nang makita ko siya sa bus stop at umupo pa sa pwesto ko. Kanina sa klase, siya ang pumasok sa utak ko nang may inalala ako. Ngayon naman nakita ko siya bago ko pa isubo ang pagkain ko.

Nawalan ako ng gana. My mood was only lifted when Nadia came back with a box of cupcakes. She didn't tell who it was from. I didn't ask kasi masyado akong naka-focus sa cupcakes.. Nakita ko lang ang nakakatakam na cupcakes, bumalik ang sigla ko sa pagkain. I was able to finish my lunch in a jiffy.

"Ano ang masarap dito?" tanong ko kay Nadia habang hindi ako makapili kung saan sa anim ang kukunin ko. They were all yummy!

"Aba malay ko. Hindi ko pa nga natitikman yan," sagot niya.

May red velvet, may sweet corn, chocolate and ube. I asked Gevi to pick for me and she knows me well because she chose the ube flavor with macapuno on top.

"Saan tayo uupo?"

May dalawang lalaking estudyante na dumaan sa gilid ng table namin. Hinintay ko muna silang makadaan. Kasi ang awkward naman na ngumanga ako habang may paraan no!

"Dito na lang!"

I closed my eyes and sniffed the cupcake.

It smells delectable! It's so sweet at masasabi kong ube halaya talaga ang ginamit dito at hindi ube flavoring lang. Oh, when did I become a pâtissière?

I took a big bite of the cupcake. I was so happy savoring the flavors I didn't open my eyes yet.

Pero sana hindi na lang ako nagmulat ng mga mata ko. Because the second I opened my eyes, I saw him. He was sitting across from me on the table in front of us, behind Tasha.

I stopped chewing when I noticed he's staring at me. When... when did he get there? Nakita niya akong kumagat sa cupcake? Pinapanood ba niya ako habang kumakain?

As if it couldn't get any worse, I choked when he smiled at me.

"ARE you okay na?"

"Yeah," sagot ko kay Tasha.

"Tingin ko nabulonan ka kasi ang bilis mong kumain kanina," hula ni Gevi.

Hindi ko naubos ang cupcake. Malaking sayang man kasi masarap talaga pero nang mabulonan ako, patakbo akong dumiretso ng comfort room. Doon ko niluwa lahat ng kinain ko. Pati na ang chicken cordon bleu.

Pakiramdam ko nanghina ako kaagad pagkatapos mailabas lahat ng laman ng tiyan ko. Hindi naman ako nakaramdam ng gutom kaya inubos ko na lang ang laman ng tumbler ko.

But now, I'm famished.

Tasha offered her chicken sandwich. Gusto kong tanggihan dahil alam kong paborito niya 'yon pero paborito ko rin yon at gutom ako kaya tinanggap ko na.

We're still having our P.E. class so I restrained myself from eating the sandwich. But my stomach has been grumbling. Tinatakpan ko na lang ng book ang tiyan ko baka kasi mapalakas ang ingay.

Gusto ko na kainin ang sandwich! One hour pa 'tong klase namin at kakasimula pa lang.

I waited at least 20 minutes for the class to start before I excused myself to go out. Hindi ko naisip kung saan ako kakain. Ayoko naman kumain sa CR. Kadiri! So I went to the back of the gym. May mga concrete table and benches doon na madalas tambayan ng mga students. Medyo tago kasi sa maraming tao kaya paboritong lugar din na pagtaguan ng mga nasa in a relationship status.

I chomped the sandwich with gusto. Hindi ko na ipinikit ang mga mata ko kahit pa sarap na sarap ako sa paborito kong sandwich. Ewan ko ba pero kapag masarap talaga ang pagkain, hindi ko na ma-kontrol ang sarili kong mapapikit. It's like heaven in every bite.

Binilisan ko ang pagkain ng sandwich. If I stay out longer than the given time, I won't be excused next time. And since I left my tumbler in class, dumaan muna ako sa cafeteria para makabili ng maiinom. I bought a cup of sago't gulaman. Maglalakad ng mabilis tapos titigil sandali para makainom ang ginawa ko. I want to finish the drink before I enter back into the room.

Kakatapak ko pa lang ng third floor pero huminto muna ako para maubos ko ang inomin.

"Alonzo!"

Sh*t! The tapioca entered the wrong pipe. Sh*t! Ang sakit sa ilong!

Napaubo ako ng malakas. Gusto kong suminghal pero hindi sa hallway. I ran fast towards the girls' comfort room and tried to sneeze the sago from my nose. Ilang beses ko pang inulit hanggang sa lumabas na nga.

Naluluha ang mga mata kong tumitig sa salamin at hindi mapigilang mapaungot.

This day is infuriating! Ano ba ang ginawa kong kasalanan at sunod-sunod naman ang mga nangyayaring ganito? Ugh! Ang malas ko ngayong araw! At isa lang ang may kasalanan sa kamalasang 'to!

Huwag na huwag siyang magkakamaling magpakita sa 'kin! Kung hindi...

I groaned loudly in irritation.

THE REST OF the week went well. I made sure to focus on my priorities. And I made sure not to meet the dork!

Dahil malaki talaga ang paniniwala ko na siya ang dahilan ng mga kamalasan ko nung Tuesday, nagpahatid ako kay Dad sa school, we moved to a different table for lunch, and I used the other stairs going to and from the classroom. Kahit hindi nagtatanong ang mga kaibigan ko, halata sa mukha nila ang kyuryusidad.

Everything worked out. And as I planned for the weekend, I went to the village park and started my crochet project. The breeze was perfect and the sunshine was gloriously warm and mild. I occasionally glance at the kids running and rolling in the grass. They're so cute I want to pinch their cheeks.

It is indeed the perfect day to spend my alone time at the park. This is one of my favorite places in the world. I smiled. "Aside from our house, of course."

"Justine."

Literal na napatalon ako sa upuan ko. Tumigil pa yata ang tibok ng puso ko dahil sa pagkagulat. Pagkalingon ko sa pinanggalingan ng boses, I immediately saw red.

I pressed my lips as I glared at the dork.

Here he is again. He's behind the bench I was sitting on with both his arms resting above the backrest.

Strands of his black hair are slightly blown by the breeze. There's a hint of amusement on his face and that annoyed me.

"Ikaw na naman?! What are you doing here? I avoided you for a couple of days tapos magpapakita ka na naman! You are the jinx in my life! Ano na namang kamalasan ang dadalhin mo ngayong araw na 'to? Ha? Ano?"

"Justine."

Napukaw ang atensiyon ko at mabilis na nag-iwas ng tingin sa kanya. I tried my best to calm myself. I need to be calm so I took a deep breath. This is my me time and I don't want it to be ruined by just anyone. But... but what should I do now that he showed up in front of me again?

Don't mind him, Justine. Just act you neither saw nor heard him. Don't let him completely ruin your day.

But he has already ruined it! Just seeing his face is enough to spoil this afternoon.

Ibinalik ko ang atensiyon sa ginagawa ko. Pero agad ding napatigil. How many stitches again? What was the last count? How many rows have I already made?

I... I forgot. I lost count.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

I continued stitching even if I already lost count. I just need to do something else and not be distracted. Minutes passed and the silence was deafening. I silently hummed inside my head any song I could think of making up a tune just to occupy my mind.

"That looks nice."

I'm the one making this. Of course, it is nice. I fought a smile after hearing praise for what I'm working on. Then I remember I shouldn't notice his presence.

Labanan mo, Justine! Act like he's not beside you.

Hmp! I don't need your compliment.

Nagpatuloy pa rin ako sa ginagawa hanggang sa hindi na ayun sa pattern ang kinalalabasan. Binuksan ko ulit ang cellphone ko at pinanood ang video tutorial kung paano gawin ang cup. Nilakasan ko ang volume ng pinapanood ko dahil hindi ako nagdadala ng earphones kapag nasa park.

I tried to focus on what I was watching but the dork's presence was so strong that I forgot the number of stitches for the corresponding rows. So I kept on moving back to the beginning of the video and memorized the number of stitches I have to make.

"You're making a bra?"

I was slightly startled upon hearing his voice. Then, my forehead creased because he thinks I'm making a bra? Nanonood siya sa pinapanood ko? I want to correct him.

"I'm making a bikini," I emphasized without glancing at him.

"A bikini bra."

"A bikini top."

"It's the same."

That silenced me. Yeah, it's the same. No use bickering with him. Ugh! Kainis!

"Are you gonna wear that?"

I paused what I was doing and pursed my lips. This... this guy is testing my patience. I took a deep breath before I faced him. But it was a bad move. Nagkatitigan kami mata sa mata kaya mabilis akong nag-iwas ng tingin.

Kailan pa siya nakatingin sa 'kin? Kanina pa ba? Bakit siya nakatingin sa'kin? May dumi ba 'ko sa mukha? May kanin ba sa pisngi ko? May muta ba 'ko?

Justine, calm down.

"Anong ginagawa mo rito?" I calmly asked, without looking at him.

"It's nice here," he answered.

"Mas maraming magandang spots kesa dito. Doon ka."

"This spot is the nicest."

Hindi pwede! This spot is mine! I wanted to yell it to him but it would be a waste of energy. Ano ba? Bakit ba siya nandito?

I took a deep breath. Again. I reminded myself that this should be a peaceful and calm weekend. This should be my time to relax after a week-long of computing, memorizing, and reviewing. And this guy beside me is not part of the relaxing week I planned.

Pero anong magagawa ko? Nandito siya. Nasa iisang village kami nakatira. And it's not like I own this park para itaboy o paalisin ko siya. And this bench isn't exclusive to me. It's unreasonable of me to think this is mine. So... yeah. I have to deal with him. Again.

Thank goodness he didn't ask more after that. I didn't even notice when he left. Well, tama talaga ako na aalis siya kung hindi ko papansin. Everybody should learn the art of deadma. It truly helps.

The next day, I went to the park again. Nag-isip pa 'ko kung lilipat ako ng ibang pwesto baka makita ko na naman ang isang yon.

Pero bakit ako lilipat dahil sa kanya? Hindi naman sa kanya ang park at lalo na ang bench na yon. So like any normal person would do, I went to my favorite spot in the park and continued my crochet project.

It was already four in the afternoon when I noticed dozens of people walking towards the village chapel. Mga magsi-simba. Marami na ring mga batang naglalaro sa park, naghahabulan at naglalaro. Pumasok sa isip ko ang mga panahon na kasing edad ko rin sila at nakikipag-laro sa kapitbahay namin noon. And then Kuya came into my mind. If the rumors were true, I bet he's here and watching over his kid or kids.

I heavily sighed. Kapag naiisip ko si Kuya, either naiinis lang ako or natatawa sa kanya. Kaya para hindi ko na siya problemahin, tinuon ko na lang ang buong atensiyon ko sa ginagawa. Hindi ko napansin ang oras sa sobrang tutok ko sa ginagawa. Napa-angat lang ako ng tingin nang tumunog ang kampana sa chapel hudyat na tapos na ang misa.

Nang ibalik ko ang atensiyon sa ginagawa, napapitlag ako. Someone's sitting beside me. Who else? The dork of course. I just rolled my eyes when our eyes met. Iyong ngiti pa niya na nakakairita kasi mukang masaya talaga siya na nagulat ako sa presence niya.

Ilang beses na akong nag single stitch and I lost count again. Kaya kinalas ko muna at para mabilang ang gagawin ko sa bagong row.

I didn't know how but I was focused on what I was doing. Hindi ko na napansin kung sino ang nasa tabi ko. Basta bilang lang ako ng bilang sa stitches na kailangan. Malapit na 'ko matapos sa unang cup nang may marinig malapit lang sa 'kin.

Napa-angat ako ng tingin at napangiti nang makita ang mga batang tatawa-tawa habang naghahabulan. Sa hula ko, mga nasa pito hanggang siyam na taon ang mga batang lalaki at babae. Ang iba sa kanila madalas kong makita sa park. Ang ilan naman ay napapansin ko lang kapag nagjo-jogging ako sa village.

"Do you want to join them?"

I just rolled my eyes. Ang wrong timing talaga ng lalaking 'to. Binalik ko na lang ang atensiyon ko sa ginagawa. Pero nakalimutan ko na naman ang number of stitches na nagawa ko na! Last five rows na lang, e.

Tinuloy ko ang pag stitch pero hindi na pantay. Hindi na kagaya sa gusto ko ang kinalabasan. Kinalas ko ulit para mabilang mula sa umpisa ang kailangan kung gawin na stitch.

"Why do you keep on untangling the thread?"

"I lost count." Wait... Pinansin ko siya. Sinagot ko ang tanong niya. Pero hindi dapat, e!

Hindi ako nagpahalata na nagulat sa sarili kong ginawa. Itinuloy ko ang ginagawa at nagsimula ulit mag crochet. This time, with the right number of stitches for the row. And when I finished the first cup, I felt relieved.

Finally, the first cup. Ang dami kong pinagdaanan para lang matapos ka. Ang daming naging sagabal para lang magawa kita. Sana kasya ka sa boobs ni Nadia.

Mahinang natawa ako sa naisip ko.

"You did right this time?"

Napatigil ako sa pagtawa. Epal talaga nitong katabi ko. Ang ganda ng moment ko, e. Nagce-celebrate ako sa small achievement ko, tapos biglang sisingit.

Bakit ba hindi siya makipag habulan sa mga kiddos?

Inilagay ko sa tabi ang natapos kong cup. Iyong tote bag ko na sa gitna naming dalawa. Tyaka kinuha ko ulit ang thread at ang isang hook para simulan ang isa pang cup.

"Is this the finished product?"

Napabaling ako sa kanya at nakitang hawak niya ang natapos kong cup. Inagaw ko at nilagay pabalik sa tote bag. Pakialamiro!

"That's just one of the two cups. Can you not touch which isn't yours?"

Kunot ang noo niya na nandoon pa rin ang tingin sa tote bag ko.

"That's small. Is it enough to cover?"

"The thing is... iba-iba ang cup sizes namin," I answered without looking at him. "Tasha and I have the same cup size. B. Pero si Nadia malaki ang cup size niya. Pareho sila ni Gevi na D. So the measurements aren't the same. I have to stitch more for bigger cup sizes."

I paused and realized, why the hell am I even explaining this to him?

Tumingin ako sa kanya. "What's wrong?" I asked when he raised his head.

His lips were tightly pressed and his brows drawn in one line. Parang may sinabi akong hindi niya nagustohan? Or ako lang talaga nag-iisip nang ganoon?

"Nothing," sagot niya sabay iling at umiwas ng tingin.

Weird.

A ball rolled near us. Agad siyang tumayo at kinuha ang bola at tumakbo palapit sa mga batang naglalaro.

Ayan! Doon ka! Sumama ka sa mga bata.

Nagpatuloy ako sa ginagawa ko. I was done with the first three rows when an elderly sat down beside me. Medyo nagulat pa 'ko dahil hindi ko naramdaman na may lumapit na pala. Inayos ko ang mga gamit ko para maka-upo siya ng maayos.

I heard her slightly groan as she leaned back. Her cane was positioned between her slightly parted legs. From holding the cane, she rested one of his hands on the armrest of the bench.

It seems to me she walked a mile and needed to rest.

She glanced at me and smiled. Contrary to what I noticed earlier, her milky eyes gleamed with energy. Her smoky-grey hair is neatly combed in a bun. Ang ganda rin ng damit niyang bistida na may bulaklak malapit sa laylayan ng mga manggas at paldang suot niya. Bagay na bagay sa edad niya. Siguro mga nasa sixty na siya or nearly seventy but she still managed to look and smell clean. Amoy powder siya actually kumpara sa ibang matatandang nakatabi ko.

I smiled back at her and nodded.

Bumaba ang tingin niya sa hawak ko bago bumalik ang mga mata niya sakin. "Naga-gantsilyo ka?"

Mahina at mahinahon ang pagkakatanong niya. Parang ang bait niyang lola.

Nakangiti akong tumango. Bumuka ang bunganga ko para sana magsalita pero nahiya ako na sabihin kung ano ang ginagawa ko. Baka kasi conservative si Lola at ayaw niya sa mga biki-bikini.

"Swimsuit ba yan?" tanong niya.

Ngumiti ako. "Bikini. Yung pang-taas lang."

Ngumiti siya na may pagka mangha. "Sexy, a. May ganoon na pala ngayon? Dati mga bonnet, bandana at punda lang nagagawa ko. Mayron na palang bikini? Ang galing naman. It just proves that not all magic wands are pointy sticks. Ang daming nagagawa ng isang hook."

"Marunong po kayo mag-gantsilyo?"

"Oo, ayan ang pinagka-abalahan ko ng ilang taon tuwing bakasyon at nang tumigil na ako sa trabaho."

"Bakit hindi niyo na po pinagpatuloy?"

Umiling siyang nakangiti. "Hindi na. Maliban kasi sa nangangalay na ang mga kamay ko, hindi na rin klaro ang mga mata ko."

Tinignan ko ang mga kamay niya. Her fingers are slim and veiny. Probably caused by years of crocheting and work. Will my hands look the same if I continue this hobby for years? Maybe. It's not a bad thing. Kung pumangit pa ang mga kamay ko, idadaan ko na lang sa manicure kagaya ng kay Lola na naka-bloody red pa ang nail polish. Huwag lang maglaba talaga.

"Sino nagturo sa'yo?"

I sheepishly smiled. "Ako lang po. Nanood lang sa YouTube."

Her lips shaped in 'o'. "Self-taught. Ang galing mo kung ganoon. Kailan ka nagsimula?"

"Last week lang po. Ilang beses akong umulit kasi hindi ko kabisado kung ilang chains ang kailangan gawin sa kada row." Napasimangot ako. Kasi naka-ilang beses pa talaga ako bago ko natapos ang nag-iisang cup lang. "Isang linggo na nga po akong gumagawa nito, pero ito pa lang iisang cup ang natapos ko." Ipinakita ko mula sa tote bag ang unang nagawa. Ikinuwento ko rin kung bakit ito ang gusto kong gawin.

Inusisa niya ang gawa ko. "Natapos mo 'to sa loob ng isang linggo? Magaling." May pagkamangha sa boses niya habang nakatingin sa gawa ko bago bumalik ang tingin niya sakin.

Tumatango-tango siyang nakangiti. "Trial and error. At the beginning, you weren't sure how it will turn out, right? Ganyan din ako noong una. Hindi ko nagustohan ang kinalabasan ng mga ginawa ko. Ang sabi sakin, 'Sige lang. Ituloy mo lang'. Hanggang sa nalaman ko kung saan ako nagkamali at inayos ko . Ang mga sumunod kong gawa, kagayang kagaya na ng gusto ko. Napagtanto kong, hindi ako makakabuo ng mga magagandang disenyo kung hindi muna naging palpak ang mga nagawa ko."

"Oo nga po, e. Medyo mahirap nga din po pala ito. Akala ko madali lang. Pabalik-balik nga po ako sa umpisa. Ilang beses ko din pinagtatanggal at binalikan ang unang stitch. Pinapanood ko ulit ang video tutorial para makita ko kung saan ako nagkamali ng bilang."

Ngumiti ulit siya. Iyong ngiti na maganda at magaan sa pakiramdam. "That is actually one of the lessons I learned in crochet. It's okay to start over. You can undo and redo your projects. You can start again if you know where you did wrong. At maganda na binabalikan mo ang pinanood mo para maitama ang pagkakamali mo."

Bumaling ang tingin niya sa mga punong nasa tapat namin. Feeling ko tuloy ang lalim ng iniisip ni Lola at bumabalik siya sa retro age. "The ability to start over. Noong minsan akala ko nasa tamang daan ako. Pero dumating ang araw na hindi ko alam kung ano na ang susunod kong gagawin. Bumalik ako sa pinanggalingan ko at humingi ng tulong sa iba. Dahil sa kanila, nakapag simula akong muli."

Bakit parang hindi na tungkol sa crochet ang sinasabi niya? Her words are coated with wisdom that she probably learned through experience and age.

Nakangiti ulit siyang tumingin sakin. "If you ever get stuck, just take a pause and acknowledge that you need help. And be brave to ask for it. Maybe that's how you can start over again."

It's definitely not about crochet anymore. Hindi ko na alam kung ano ang sasabihin ko sa kanya. Ngumiti na lang ako at tumango para mag agree. Well, I get the message she wants to convey though and it's not every day I meet a lola.

"If you're having a hard time with the bikini top, it's never too late to make something else. Your best friends won't mind if you give them anything that you worked hard for. Magaling ka. Pero sigurado ako mas may igagaling ka pa."

Mas lalo akong napangiti sa sinabi ni Lola bago siya nagpa-alam na uuwi na. May sumundo sa kanyang batang babae, siguro apo niya o kasambahay nila.

I felt proud of myself. Someone praised what I did. Ganito pala ang pakiramdam no? Kahit hindi mo kakilala kung pinuri nila ang isang maliit lang naman na bagay na nagawa mo, nakaka-overwhelm. It motivated me to continue the hobby.

NANG maka-alis si Lola, tiyaka ko lang na-realize na hindi pala kami nagpakilala sa isa't-isa. Pero di bale, nasa iisang village lang kami. Malamang magkikita kami ulit.

Pinagpatuloy ko ang paggawa ng pares ng unang cup. Medyo naguluhan ako kasi hindi ko namemorize kung ilang stitches ang kailangan at ano ang susunod na stitch ang gagawin.

"Does it have to be a bikini top?"

Sinimangotan ko siya kaagad pagkatingin ko sa kaniya. Hindi naman nagtagal at pinanood ko na lang ulit ang tutorial. Focus na sana ako pero naramdaman kong umupo na naman siya sa tabi ko. But I shook off the bad vibes from my head. Masyadong maganda ang araw na 'to para maging maldita ako.

"Is this a bracelet?"

When I turned to him, he was holding the long chain I made. Iyon lang sa tingin ko ang malinis at pinaka-tama kong nagawa simula nang umpisahan ko 'to. Ang simple lang naman kasi kailangan lang i-braid.

"Hindi yan bracelet. Ibalik mo nga yan sa bag ko," utos ko sa kanya. Pero ang gago ipinalibot pa sa pulsohan niya ang chain.

I was about to stop him until an idea came to mind. From the video I was watching, I searched for 'crochet bracelet'. There wasn't plenty of what I was expecting but I watched one tutorial and it was easy. Well, I said the same thing for the bikini top but ended up having a hard time finishing a cup. But it isn't too late to start again and try something new, right? Just like what the grandma told me earlier.

Pero akalain mo nga naman. Itong lalaki pa sa tabi ko na dine-deadma ko ang nakatulong sakin. Let's not tell him that. Deadma ko nga siya, di ba? Mabuti nga umalis na naman siya at sumali sa mga batang naglalaro ng dodge ball. Such a kid.

Kinuha ko ang chain na gawa ko at ipinalibot sa pulsohan ko para gawing wrist band. It looks good on my wrist. Nakaka-puti ang mint na color ng sinulid.

I think I can do this. Madali lang gawin ang wristband based on the tutorial I watched. I think I can finish one in less than a week. With the beads, I have lots of them at home from my old and broken bracelets. Okay, final na. I'll be making beaded crochet wristba—

Sheet! One whole sheet of pad paper!

My world rocked back and forth cutting off my thoughts after a ball smacked on one side of my cheekbone and leaving it numb. I didn't see the ball coming. It happened quickly after losing the wristband from my wrist. And when I raised my head, the ball struck me uninvited.

Mabuti na lang at nakapikit pa ko. Hindi ako nakaramdam ng sakit pagkatapos akong matamaan pero tatlo hanggang limang segundo ang nakalipas, nakaramdam ako ng kirot sa kaliwang pisngi ko at malapit sa ilong.

I opened my eyes wider and shook my head to regain awareness of what happened. Then he went near me.

"Justine, okay ka lang?"

Tinignan ko siya ng masama.

"Okay?!" Tumayo ako na medyo nahihilo pa at hinarap siya. "Ihagis ko kaya ang bola sa mukha mo at malaman mo kung gaano kasakit ang ginawa mo!"

"It was an accident. We were playing an—"

"Pakialam ko kung naglalaro kayo? Hindi mo man lang naisip na may mga tao rito sa park at baka matamaan ng bola? O baka hindi ka nag-iisip kasi sinadya mo?!"

"No! I didn't do it on purpose."

"Ikaw naman tamaan natin ng bola. Tignan ko kung hindi mayanig utak mo!"

"Look, it was an accident. It wasn—"

"Shut up! Instead of saying it was an accident, why don't you apologize? Baka sana naging maayos pa ang pakiramdam ko kung humingi ka ng sorry at—

"I'm sorry," he cut me off.

The ball in his hands caught my eyes that my jaw clenched and my fists into a ball. I'm panting from anger and I couldn't calm myself now. I already lost my temper. I can't tell if he's sincere with his sorry but even if he is, hindi ko magawang magpatawad kaagad. Masyadong mainit pa rin ang dugo ko sa kanya.

"Too late. If I didn't ask you to apologize, who knows kung ano pang excuse mo!"

Dali-dali kong niligpit ang mga gamit ko. Wala na akong pakialam kung magka buhol-buhol pa ang mga threads ko basta nilagay ko lang lahat sa loob ng tote bag at mangiyak-ngiyak na umalis ng park.

Ang sakit ng pisngi ko. I kept on pausing from kicking my scooter to softly wipe away my tears. Masakit at mahapdi kasi kapag madiinan.

When was the last time I was this furious? I've always tried to be calm because I don't want to shout or yell at someone. I know how horrible it feels, especially when being shouted at in public. It's embarrassing. But I just couldn't help lashing out at him for what he did. It was rude of me to shout at him while he remained calm.

Parang ako pa yata ang naging mukang masama. Pero masama na kung masama. Basta nailabas ko ang galit ko. Masakit kaya ang pagtama ng bola sa mukha ko. Akala niya malambot ang bola? May kasama pang lupa at damo. Bwesit!

When was the last time I was this mad again?

Oh great!

It was with him.

He hurt me again.

He always awakens the beast that I'm trying to calm inside me.

Just him.

***

Be proud of yourself if you get the hang out of crocheting or any other craft you are trying to learn and enjoy. You created something and it deserves to be celebrated; small or big.

Here is a video tutorial on basic crochet lesson:

#unlovingraisin #wattpad #stories #Justine and Just Him #KaoDon

0 notes