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syntheticpoetry · 4 years

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The Ghosts That We Knew

See my original post on the origins of this story here!

Summary: Blaine Anderson is no stranger to hospitals and has been volunteering on the pediatric unit of Lima General Hospital for years when Kurt Hummel comes along. After Blaine is attacked at his school's Sadie Hawkins Dance, he has his best friend Kurt to help him deal with the aftermath. And when Kurt becomes the target of the McKinley football team's bullying campaign, he can count on Blaine to have his back.

AU where Blaine transfers to McKinley instead of Dalton. Set during season 1.A story of two best friends finding courage to face their bullies and discovering love along the way.

Author’s Note: Blaine has a reason he has been in an out of the hospital since childhood that will be revealed, but if you are overly cautious of the level of angst surrounding it I can assure you it's nothing heartbreaking/super serious. It's actually quite common. I cannot thank @esperantoauthor enough for beta reading this for me and really helping me whip it into shape!

AO3 Link || FFN Link

Chapter 1: Of Viral Videos and Disney Princes

The last time that Kurt Hummel remembers being in a hospital, he told his mother that he loved her for the last time.

That was six years ago.

As he walks through the lobby, towards the directory by the elevators, he keeps his gaze fixed forward, careful not to spare a glance at the waiting area to his right. He spent so many months in that waiting room. Entire seasons, multiple holidays spent watching people receive good news and bad news, with his father stoic and silent beside him as his mother underwent procedure after procedure. Until it was their turn to be the family that received bad news. The doctor sounded sincere as he said a lot of big words Kurt could not quite understand at the time, but he understood the look on his father’s face. He took to studying the ugly designs on the carpet to distract from the tight clench in his father’s jaw, the way he kept himself so still and barely blinked through the entire explanation— Kurt knew, even at eight years old, what it was like to use up all of your willpower to hold yourself together for the sake of someone else. To this day, he cannot look at paisley print without thinking back to that awful day.

Kurt scans the directory before punching the up button to call the elevator and folds his arms across his chest, tapping his foot as he awaits its arrival. When he first heard about the volunteer program on the pediatric unit he was naturally hesitant to return to the place that held some of his worst memories. He had been on the fence about it all summer, torn between the desire to give back to the hospital staff that had gone above and beyond in their attempts to cure his mother’s cancer and wanting to put as much distance as possible between himself and the place where they finally had to say goodbye to each other.

Until he saw that YouTube video.

A curly-haired boy with big doe eyes and an unwavering grin, guitar in hand, leading a Disney themed sing-along with a group of elementary school age kids. The warmth that spread through Kurt’s chest was almost overwhelming as he watched the boy march around the room performing Hakuna Matata with the parade of children trailing behind, mimicking him raucously and off-key. It was the first time Kurt had really smiled in a long time.

So he had decided to look into the program. Mostly because witnessing the boundless energy of pure joy from each child singing along in that video elicited memories of countless nights of living room performances with his own father, both of them puffy-eyed and exhausted but still managing to find the stamina to sing at the top of their lungs, using the furniture as stage props. They were two lost souls attempting to cling to each other through tidal waves of insurmountable grief, and those nights together— well, those nights wereeverything to Kurt. He had never felt closer to his father than when they were both breathless and laughing their way through the most eclectic collection of songs imaginable, hugging each other tightly at the end of each performance.

And if Kurt happened to run into the boy from the video along the way, well, that would certainly just be an added bonus. Kurt did have eyes after all. And there was no denying the boy’s natural charm or the air of confidence with which he carried himself.

Truth be told, entering yet another school year with no friends was beginning to take its toll on Kurt and the possibility of finding camaraderie with a cute boy who seemingly shared similar interests was certainly enticing.

Ding!

The doors slide open before him revealing an empty elevator. Kurt steps in and presses the button for the fourth floor. He thinks about that video and jumping on armchairs and couches in his living room with his father for the entire ride up.

***

He has to be buzzed in to enter the unit, which he thinks is strange. But the woman who greets him, a young nurse with bright green eyes and deep auburn hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, explains it is the protocol for all pediatric units in order to prevent children from wandering away or being kidnapped. There are security bracelets around each patient’s ankle that trigger an alarm if they are taken past a bright yellow line painted on the floor.

“Who would kidnap sick kids from a hospital?” Kurt asks, looking absolutely horrified.

“You would be surprised at how common it is. Parents fighting over custody, usually.”

He nods and guesses that makes sense, but the thought is still deeply unsettling.

The hallways are empty as she leads him to a room behind the nurse’s station. The unit is certainly much different from the one his mother had been on. The walls are covered in murals of different cartoon characters and scenes from popular storybooks. While the nurse punches in a code, Kurt studies a painting of Rapunzel in a high stone tower, golden plaited hair strung over the edge of the window for a handsome prince at the bottom. The door buzzes and she holds it open for him. “I’ll let my supervisor know you’re here.”

Kurt thanks her and takes a seat at one of the tables to wait. On the far wall he spots a bulletin board covered in an overabundance of overlapping photos, hand-drawn pictures and a variety of cards both homemade and store-bought. He casts a quick glance towards the door before crossing the room to investigate. He cannot help but smile as he scans over the collection of memories, reminiscing back to his own pile of hand drawn cards for the staff on the oncology unit.

Then something catches his eye.

It’s the curly haired boy from the video. He’s standing, guitar in hand with the strap over his shoulder, in the center of a group photo, surrounded by children of varying ages and the unit staff. His outfit is different from the one in the video though. He’s wearing baggy sweatpants and a printed T-shirt, only the edges of the otherwise obscured design visible from behind the guitar over his torso. In the video he had certainly seemed more, well, put together, to say the least. He had worn light grey slacks and a navy polo shirt accented with a white bow tie, which Kurt could not help but notice because he could count on one hand the amount of teenage boys he had ever seen wearing bow ties in the state of Ohio, himself included.

Kurt wonders how often he comes by to visit and volunteer. Maybe there is a chance they will be able to meet after all.

The faint beeping of the key code and jiggling of the door handle to his left draws his attention and he turns in time to see an older woman with ashy blonde hair and huge round glasses that take up half of her face walk in. Her scrub top is printed with different Winnie the Pooh characters. She smiles and approaches him, extending her hand. “Hi, you must be Kurt. I’m Jeannie; we spoke on the phone last week.”

“Oh! Yes,” Kurt shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Shall we?” She gestures to a table and Kurt takes a seat opposite her. “So we just have to get some paperwork in order and then we can take a little tour around the unit so you can meet the kids.”

“Okay.”

“This is your first time volunteering, right?” She opens a Manila folder and begins rifling through a large stack of papers.

“Yes.”

“What drew you to it?”

Kurt steals a glance towards the bulletin board, lips curling up into a half-smile. “I heard about it through my school a few months back, but honestly? I spent a lot of time visiting my mom in this hospital when I was a kid and when me and my dad would get home he would always try to cheer me up. We put on a lot of concerts for my stuffed animals in our living room. And I mean… like a lot .”

Her eyes are soft as she listens, a piece of paper held loosely between both hands just inches off of the table, almost forgotten, and gives him an empathetic smile.

“I saw that video of the Disney sing-along online and I just really wanted to be a part of it, helping kids, especially with music, because it’s really helped me through some tough times.”

“Well,” She straightens up and slides the paper across the table towards him, “I think the kids will really love having you around. Do you play any instruments?”

“Never missed a piano lesson,” Kurt says, grinning. “But mostly, I love to sing.”

The paperwork consists of a lot of signatures. Kurt is not to discuss any of the patients or their health conditions with others in order to maintain privacy regulations, not to post anything to social media without permission, and just a lot of general information about the hospital’s protocols such as what to do in the event of emergency scenarios (of which there are many ). By the end of it, Kurt has a pretty sizable stack of papers to take home with him and a dull cramp in his wrist.

“I know it seems like a lot of information, but nothing you have to memorise. You’ll always be with other staff members who will guide you through every step of the way.”

Kurt releases a nervous laugh, “Okay, good. I can save my highlighters for school work then.”

***

Jeannie leads the way to the playroom which, she explains, is a safe space for all the children on the unit that remains open every day until 7 p.m. No medications or treatments are allowed to be administered to a child in the playroom, they must be brought out first. There are about ten kids inside, ranging from toddlers to older teens, all of whom have seemingly gravitated towards splitting into their own little cliques based on ages. As soon as they enter the room two of the younger kids, a boy and girl no older than three or four, look up from a mountain of blocks and start crying. Kurt casts an alarmed glance at Jeannie.

“It’s okay, you can keep playing.” Jeannie kneels down and stacks a loose block onto their small tower. “Everyone, this is Kurt, he’s going to be coming by to help out and spend some time with all of you.” She stands up and backs away from the two toddlers with the blocks to stand beside Kurt again.

“It’s the uniform,” she says quietly to him. “Some get scared when they see us come into a room cause it usually means it’s time for medicine or treatments.”

“Hi, Kurt!” A small girl with bronze skin, a round face, and long thick black hair comes over and takes his hand. “I’m Melanie! You wanna come draw with me?”

She does not wait for an answer before she starts tugging on his hand and walking back towards a small rectangular table covered with construction paper and crayons. She climbs into one of two plastic blue chairs which are far too tiny for Kurt to fit in, so he sits on the floor beside the table, crossing his legs. Melanie slides a piece of yellow construction paper towards him and pushes a pile of crayons into the middle for them to share.

“Did you draw all of these?” Kurt picks up a red crayon and starts sketching.

“Yes! My daddy brought my big brother to visit and we draw together,” she says, shading in what looks like a sunflower with a purple crayon.

“They’re very beautiful; I like that one a lot.” Kurt taps the one she is currently working on. “I’ve never seen a purple sunflower before.”

“I’m gonna invent them one day,” she says matter-of-factly. Kurt smiles and returns to his sketch of a new outfit design that has been floating around his mind for the past week.

“Woah!”

Kurt begins to lift his head up to locate where the voice has come from when he spots movement beside his left elbow. To say the boy is small would be an understatement. He is tiny . A pale, skinny little thing dressed in Batman pajamas that look two sizes too big on him. He has wide, bright blue eyes and is wearing a charcoal grey beanie. Clutched between his toothpick arms is a stuffed rabbit with drooping ears the size of its entire body.

“Hello,” Kurt says as the boy leans forward to peer at his drawing.

“You can draw,” the boy says, clutching his rabbit closer.

“Would you like to draw with us?”

“Can’t draw,” he says.

“Oh, I bet that’s not true,” Kurt says and holds out the crayon to him. “Everyone can draw.”

The boy looks at the crayon then up to Kurt and shakes his head shyly before raising the bunny up to his chin, hugging it tightly.

“What’s your name?” Kurt asks.

“Jason,” he says quietly.

“Well, would you like to watch me and Melanie draw?”

“I’m really good.” Melanie looks up at him. “You can sit next to me, I’ll show you.”

Kurt spends the next hour drawing with Melanie while Jason continues to peek curiously between them. The other kids begin to trickle out of the room, some led by nurses, some by visiting family members. Pretty soon, only the three of them are left until Jason’s mother comes in to collect him. Before he leaves, Kurt holds out a piece of paper to him.

“Something tells me you like Batman,” Kurt says as Jason’s eyes widen at the image of a child-sized Batman with bright blue eyes. “How about next time you can draw me?”

“Okay.” Jason grins, slipping the picture between his stuffed bunny and his chest to hold it there safely. “But you’re gonna look like a potato. I really can’t draw.”

It is the most Kurt has heard him speak all afternoon. Something about the way he talks contradicts the way he looks. Kurt wonders how old he actually is; the boy looks smaller than most five year olds he’s seen but definitely talks like an older child. Kurt makes a mental note to find out next time. “Deal. I can’t wait to see it.”

Jason’s mom gives Kurt a parting smile before she shepherds her son away. Soon after, Melanie’s nurse comes to collect her as well, leaving only Kurt and Jeannie in the empty playroom.

“That went well,” she says. “You’re a natural with them.”

Kurt beams back at her, a sense of pride swelling in his chest.

After his dad comes to pick him up, Kurt spends the entire car ride home filling him in on the events of the day, excluding Jason and Melanie’s names. He goes to bed that night with his mind already buzzing with activities for the next visit.

***

Kurt starts volunteering two days a week after school and over the course of the next month, he becomes very familiar with some of the regular kids on the unit. Jason, he discovers, is actually nine years old, has leukemia and is in his final round of chemotherapy by the first week in October. Melanie has sickle cell anemia and had been hospitalized for something called ‘sickle cell crisis’— she had gone home two weeks after they first met, but Kurt learns that she usually returns frequently for the same problem. There’s a teenage boy not much older than Kurt is, but taller and skinnier with jet black hair and sad eyes, named Julian who has cystic fibrosis— he usually keeps to himself, oftentimes choosing to sit in the back corner of the playroom and silently watch everyone else.

The rest have been a whirlwind of faces and names with a variety of issues such as pneumonia, appendicitis, broken bones and asthma attacks. There have also been quite a few cases of children who have come in with injuries as a result of abuse at home, more so than Kurt would have imagined actually occurred. He finds trying to interact and engage with those kids to be the most heartbreaking.

Some of the kids are not as keen to warm up to him as others, keeping to themselves or staying with their families while Kurt leads sing-alongs, painting lessons, hosts movie nights, and reads aloud during story time. He has developed a steady routine in the five weeks since he began volunteering. So on the Tuesday during the second week of October he waves hello to the security personnel by the front entrance like he usually does. He rides up the same elevator and is buzzed into the unit by Rosie, the first nurse he met with the auburn hair. And with his usual wide smile in place, he strolls into the playroom with a new four-pack of Disney themed puzzles under his arm.

But when he walks in, the kids are already sitting in a circle, staring up at a boy with loosely gelled curls coiffed into a fluffy side part, bright hazel eyes, and a sapphire acoustic guitar perched on his lap. Kurt is caught completely off guard as he realises, Oh god, it’s him! It’s the guy from the video!

He looks shorter in person than Kurt assumed. In both the photo on the bulletin board and the video his hair was ungelled and wild. Kurt vividly remembers his dark curls bouncing as he bopped his head along to the music while impersonating Timon and Pumba for the younger kids. He’s dressed in another carefully selected outfit though— bright red pants, a black polo and a white bow tie with black polka dots on it.

“Kurt!” A few of them yell excitedly.

“Ah, so you’re the famous Kurt I’ve been hearing so much about,” The boy with the guitar says, that same unwavering grin already in place. “Nice to finally meet you, I’m Blaine.”

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newtafterdark · 4 years

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Taste of Metal - Chapter 8: A Lecture on Trespassers

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157634/chapters/65517814

Summary: What if the overwhelming VR experience Gordon went through, had a deeper purpose than just being a simple simulation & a freelance debug job for him?

But most importantly- what if Gordon Freeman listens to Metal & used to be in a band? aka. the “Metalhead Gordon AU”

- - -

Gordon had to admit that it had been a while since he organized such a big breakfast. It brought his years at MIT back to mind where he and his roommates somehow collectively managed to keep each other on their feet, food included.

But his worries over the possible mediocrity of what he, Dr Coomer and Bubby might have created - with him being the only one who had actual physical experience with cooking - went right out the window when he saw the looks of amazement and gratefulness at the table.

Despite having said that he needed neither sleep nor food, Benrey had stacked his plate with a bit of everything that had been brought on the table. If he had been any other person, Gordon would have been concerned. But it was likely that everyone at the table either hadn’t had a proper meal in quite a while or had never had the chance to have one before.

So when Benrey was carefully layering a pancake with ham, a fried egg, cheese and peanut butter, Gordon just watched with a soft amused smile.

Meanwhile, Tommy was losing his mind over the concept of Nutella-Banana toast.

“I-I can’t believe I missed out on this! They never had anything like this at the Black Mesa cafeteria!”

Gordon chuckled.

“Doesn’t surprise me, bud. But now you can have that every day if you want.”, he added with an assuring smile.

Tommy nodded in excitement, already in the process of making another Nutella-covered toast, exchanging his left-over banana slices for Darnold’s strawberries.

Darnold added the banana to his honey wheat cereal in thought, then looked up to meet Gordon’s gaze.

“Apologies in advance for prying, Gordon… but I do have a question, If you don’t mind.”

Gordon blinked over the edge of his mug, cutting the sip of hot cacao short.

“Sure, man! What’s up?”

“Well… I recalled your reaction from last night when Bubby talked about exploring the world outside. You seemed… alarmed. Why?”

Gordon set his mug down, brows furrowed as he looked at his plate. He figured he’d have to tell the Science Team about the outside world eventually...

“It isn’t as safe as you’d think, guys.”

“No place is ‘safe’, Gordon.”, Bubby scoffed while cutting his omelette into bite-sized pieces.

“I am aware, but this is… simulation levels of ‘not safe’.”, Gordon clarified.

“What do you mean, Gordon? D-Do you guys had natural disasters recently? We understand! We can deal with stuff like that! No worries-”, Tommy threw in, but Gordon held up his hand.

“Let me… go get my laptop. I need you guys to know what’s going on.”

With that said, Gordon got up and went into his bedroom, missing the confused glances the Science Team exchanged among each other.

When he returned, Gordon set up his projector and plugged the connection cable into his laptop. He let out a sigh, then opened a folder on his desktop.

“Alright, welcome to class 101 of ‘Gordon explains what the fuck has been going on on Earth that shit’s fucked up outside’...”, he said, adjusting his glasses and getting into lecture mode.

He watched as the Science Team huddled closer to each other at the table, curiously looking at the projection on the wall… but still keeping at it with the breakfast. Gordon smiled softly before reminding himself of what he was doing.

“... August 10th, 2013. San Francisco. We thought it was a 7.1 earthquake at first. Bad enough to begin with… but then the video feeds and photos got to the news...”

The Science Team watched with high attention as Gordon opened up a video file of a news recording.

The Golden Gate bridge was swinging dangerously in clear view- until the camera focused on something else.

Something huge.

Something absolutely massive.

What emerged from the waters could only be described as a leviathan of a monster. It tore the bridge down with ease and almost instantly made its way towards the city, dragging itself through the water completely unphased by the military attacking it with comparably small aerial strikes.

“We called it “Trespasser” since it was the first of its kind we were forced to face.”, Gordon added, his voice sounding heavy with memories.

The video ended and Gordon turned back, facing his friends.

Tommy had his hands covering his mouth in shock, Darnold was holding Sunkist oh-so-gently with horror in his eyes, Bubby was clawing at the table as he stared with wide eyes and even Dr Coomer sat there with concern in his face.

The last person Gordon expected to be shocked by this though, was Benrey, who looked positively mortified.

“Dude, w-what the FUCK?”, he managed to stutter out.

“Y-You say it was the ‘first”? There were m-more?!”, Tommy asked.

Gordon just nodded at that.

“The next one arrived 6 months later in Manila-”

“Six months… that was barely time to rebuild the other city...”, Dr Coomer mused, more to himself than to the others.

“Then came another one 4 months later in Cabo San Lucas-”

“They were arriving faster???”, Bubby exclaimed with horror.

Gordon nodded, pulling up pictures after pictures, playing videos to put emphasis on the seriousness of the whole ordeal.

“It was a disaster… We faced smaller ones than Trespasser occasionally… but the big ones got even bigger over time. We faced several each year until only recently. As you can imagine, Earth is still very much damaged in a lot of places because of this. Some areas are completely uninhabitable because of the acidic and poisonous nature of the Kaiju remains-”

Benrey almost chocked on a piece of bacon-

“You guys called them ‘Kaiju’??? Like, uh- Godzilla? Big Lizard???”

Gordon let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah… one of the lead scientists behind the research of these beasts is a massive nerd. At first, he only called them that at work to differentiate the samples he got… then the names actually stuck over time in the official reports.”

Coomer raised his hand.

“Gordon, how did humanity fight these beasts? It looks like the military was once again absolutely useless!”

Gordon clicked through his files, looking positively excited to show off whatever humanity's defence system had been-

“So, uhm, before I click play… basically humanity got together and formed the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps or PPDC for short. Within the PPDC was the research division… and that included the scientists and engineers who worked on these-”

What the team saw next in the projection, made several of them gasp in excitement and astonishment.

The video showed a dragon-like kaiju getting absolutely wrecked by what could only be described as a massive robot.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME???”, Bubby exclaimed.

“Yooooo, what the fuuuuuuuck, man...”, Benrey added, holding his head in his hands, eyes still glued to the projection.

“This… h-how-”, stammered Darnold, staring in awe.

“Oh, that is quite the fine work of robotics, Gordon! Very sturdy by the looks of it!”, Dr Coomer observed, giving an approving nod, “So you used these to defeat the kaiju in one-on-one fights?”

“Well, if we could, we had more Jaeger facing one Kaiju- and yes, my nerd buddy at the PPDC also named the class of the robots.”, Gordon clarified with a chuckle.

Tommy perked up at that.

“That man is your friend, Gordon? Can we meet him?”

“Well, I haven’t talked to Newton in quite some time… and not with Hermann either… I could e-mail them and ask where they’re stationed so we could meet and catch up? Heh… yeah, I should do that. Newt especially would love you guys!”

Meanwhile, Bubby leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and glaring at the images still being projected.

“So… the reason it’s dangerous outside is that these things could pop up anywhere at any moment?”, he asked.

Gordon made a so-so motion with his hand.

“Not quite. The Breach, that’s what we called the portal to their world, was closed not too long ago… but we still deal with the damages and the toxic kaiju remains...”

Gordon pulled up a photo of an entire coastline glowing in an unnatural blue in broad daylight.

“We call this ‘Kaiju Blue’... the closest comparison I could make is that it’s… like acidic oil-like blood. Basically don’t get near any of this at any point. Compared to it, the Green Sludge back in Black Mesa was just a glow-in-the-dark kiwi slushie.”

That comment earned Gordon a few chuckles and amused huffs.

“But yes… this is the main reason I want you all to be careful when we go outside. The PPDC still studies what the fuck this stuff can do to a human body… and I don’t want to find out what it might do to you guys. Just… no slurping the toxic alien juice, please?”, Gordon pleaded.

To his surprise, the team gave him assuring nods.

“Gordon, normally I would say that you’d be a party pooper… but since we’re all new to this terrifying information, be assured that we will listen. After all, you’re now the specialist!”, Dr Coomer said with a smile.

Gordon’s tense shoulders relaxed at the reassurance. This was a welcome change from what he had been used to from the Science Team in the simulation.

“Thanks, guys. I… I know this is a lot to take in- and please take your time to process it! - but I just… I needed you guys to be aware.”

“Oh, it’s alright, Gordon! I-I think it will slowly sink in over a few days, right guys?”, Tommy asked, turning to the others at the table.

“I’m already done processing… but we need your laptop for more research, Gordon. I want to know more details on that whole disaster before I take even one step outside.”, Bubby muttered before sipping on his now cold coffee.

“Of course! And don’t be afraid to ask me about anything, related or unrelated to all this! Honestly, the more I can help with you guys being prepared for the outside world, the better I feel about our whole situation.”

Gordon turned off the projector for the time being and sat back down at the table.

“And, uh… thank you all for listening and letting me explain? I’m not used to that from you guys… but yeah, thanks.”, he said with a weak but grateful smile.

Darnold reached over, putting a hand on his shoulder, while his other hand was still gently petting Sunkist.

“Hey, know that we’ll always listen to you from now on. The simulation was one thing… but this is reality. I think I speak for everyone when I say that while bantering with you is álways fun, we won’t push your buttons to a frustrating level anymore. Especially while you’re still recovering.”

Gordon simply nodded at that, playing with the rim of his shirt.

Suddenly, he stood up once more, startling Darnold slightly.

“Gordon, a-are you okay?”, the mixologist asked.

Gordon nodded, looking quite serious all of the sudden.

“I… I want you guys to meet someone.”

Benrey visibly perked up.

“Oh shit!- is it son time? Haven’t seen him around so… uh… road trip to go see Gordon Jr?”

“I can’t wait to meet your son, Gordon!”, Dr Coomer chimed in.

“W-Well, we don’t need to go anywhere to meet him… uhm… give me a second, I just need to go get my closet key-”

“CLOSET KEY???”, gasped Tommy in shock.

“TOMMY, DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT IT WILL MAKE SENSE IN A SECOND I SWEAR!”, Gordon yelled back while he was scrambling to find his keys.

The entire team watched in a mix of judgement, curiosity and excitement as Gordon unlocked the storage closet that Benrey had sat on top of earlier that morning.

They saw his anxious expression completely melt away to make way for a loving gaze as he pulled out something orb-shaped from within the closet depths.

A sleepy chirp-like sound suddenly emerged from what Gordon was holding.

“Hey… ‘morning, bud. Dad’s finally back home...”, Gordon said with the most gentle voice any of the Science Team members had ever heard him speak with.

Another chirp, this time a bit louder-

“....dad? DAD! YOU’RE BACK!!!!”

Suddenly the orb-shaped object launched itself out of Gordon’s arms and flew in rapid circles around him, making the man laugh. He reached out and pulled the orb out of the air, hugging it close.

“I am! Hey, uhm… dad brought some friends over. They are really excited to meet you. Do you want to go say hello to them?”, he asked gently.

The Science Team watched in anticipation as Gordon walked back to the table, arms wrapped protectively around something that was as big as volley-ball.

Tommy gasped softly as he leaned over to get a better look.

A small screen on the orb slowly came into view, displaying a curious little face consisting of numbers and symbols.

Two appendages, seemingly constructed in part out of computer mice, pulled the small being further up as it looked warily over Gordon’s arm at the Science Team.

Gordon smiled proudly at the display of mutual curiosity.

“Everyone… meet Joshua.”

#metalhead gordon au #hlvrai #hlvrai gordon #benrey #tommy coolatta #hlvrai darnold #hlvrai bubby #hlvrai coomer #hlvrai sunkist #WELCOME TO THE KAIJU ZONE #newton geiszler #hermann gottlieb #both of them only mentioned by name... for now #pacific rim #but also I WANT TO SEE MY LITTLE BOY #HERE HE IS!!!!#hlvrai joshua #fanfic #fanfics

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geraldlunaria · 4 years

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We Were Kids In Love 💓💞

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Credits: BiyooteeTV

A post shared by Gerald (@geraldlunaria) on Oct 26, 2018 at 3:27pm PDT

Kids in Love - Kygo

It was Thursday on the night of October 25, 2018 when I attended my first concert in the Mall of Asia Arena. I still remember the time when I burst with joy because I saw the announcement that Kygo is having an Asia tour for his album entitled “Kids in Love” for the first time. The event is about to happen during my birthday so I have high hopes that my mom would allow me to attend as a gift even though I’m 16 years old during that time. I showed her the advertisement and asked if I can buy a ticket to attend the event and I even requested if I can go on my own. Thankfully, she allowed me to go with the condition that my older brother will accompany me because I have to travel via commute.

I woke up the day of the event very excited and I started the day by attending the class and after that I went to a barbershop to get a new haircut. The gates will open by 9:00 PM so we started our trip by 6:30 PM. We rode a van routed to Trinoma then we traveled from North Avenue station to Taft Avenue station via Manila Metro Rail Transit System (MRT) and lastly, we rode a jeep bound to SM Mall of Asia. We arrived by 9:30 pm and my brother escorted me until I entered the arena.

A post shared by Gerald (@geraldlunaria) on Oct 26, 2018 at 2:47pm PDT

Without You - Avicii (Kygo’s Avicii Tribute)

Finally! My long awaited event is about to happen. I can’t contain my joy and excitement during that time. I see a lot of diverse people on every floor. I used the escalator and every floor there are people welcoming us and giving us glow sticks but I didn’t accept it because I’m an environmentalist during that time. Even though it’s my second time to attend an event inside the Mall of Asia area, I had difficulty in finding the area where I belong. It is so huge especially when you are inside because it’s a five-level venue and it can accommodate a seating capacity of 15,000.

By 10PM when the pre-party started and the guests DJs played their set. It’s cold inside and I find myself sitting comfortably and lowkey vibing in the music because I don’t want to spend most of my energy and end up exhausted when Kygo performs his set.

By 10:30 PM when I grabbed a snack because I haven’t had my dinner yet. I went into the Food Alley to find food and as expected, the food was costly. I only bought a soft drink and a hotdog sandwich even though I also wanted a beer inside the typical red and white plastic party cup that time. I didn’t buy it because I thought it was not worth it for it’s cost but now I regret that because I could take the cup with me along with the glow stick as a souvenir for my first concert. After the set of the last guest DJ, I’m lowkey worried because it’s 11PM and I have exams tomorrow and Kygo is not performing yet.

A post shared by Gerald (@geraldlunaria) on Oct 26, 2018 at 2:54pm PDT

First Time - Kygo

By 12 AM of October 26, 2018 when Kygo started to perform his set. I find myself along with the crowd dancing and singing our favorite music. It’s fascinating and amazing to see such a sight. It had great visuals and Kygo was joined by Justin Jesso and Bonnie McKee in performing some of the songs. Kygo is a good pianist and he even brought a music ensemble with him to join him in performing some instrumental parts of the set even though his genre is Electronic Dance Music (EDM). The concert ended by 2AM and I went home grateful and joyful with a beautiful memory that I will never forget. I really love music and I think many of the best places in the world are concert/music grounds, music festivals, raves, and theaters where you can see your favorite artists performing the music you love.

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youtube

Here’s an incomplete video of Kygo’s set made for fans who couldn't attend the concert.

Credits:BiyooteeTv

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certifiedskywalker · 5 years

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Lost - Benjamin Poindexter

Hello my friends! I hope you are doing well and fancy a delve into Daredevil’s newest villain, Bullseye. I really loved the way this character was portrayed and I hope this imagine does him justice! Enjoy!

His long fingers gripped the granite counter top tightly, his knuckles turning white at the strain. The flex of his forearms seemed dramatic in the dim light as the muscles were grossly defined. The shadows under his chin were drawn sharp as he clenched and unclenched his jaw rhythmically. His shoulders were hiked up, like feline hackles, and his head hung low between them. The loud, heavy thoughts weighed his brain down to that painful position, with his eyes glued on the manila envelope before him.

Your fault, your fault, your fault. The words floated in his skull, reverberating off the bone and back into the pink flesh of his mind. His brows furrowed as he vainly tried to block the voice out. Angrily, he shook his head hoping to give himself a moment of silence.

Your fault, your fault, your fault. Traveling from his head and down his throat, the phrase found purchase in his heart. The once steady beat started to pound wildly with some untapped rage. He could feel the blood rushing through his body, echoing in his ears.

Your fault, your fault, your fault. Suddenly, he was moving, his fingers wrapping around the handle of the knife. A sharp turn, a slight snap and the blade was lodged in the drywall. It sunk deep, chipping the paint as it found its mark.

My fault, my fault, my fault. With a scream so loud that the heavens shook, he fell to his knees. His shaking hands pulled at his short, dirty blond locks in pure frustration. If he had just stayed away, kept his distance like he had been, you would have been spared.

It was a brisk day in Hell’s Kitchen. The chilled air nipped at your face, flushing your face with a dusting of red. You shook slightly, pulling your too-thin jacket closer to your chest in an attempt to combat the cold. Sadly, the attempt was feeble as the wind picked up a freezing breeze, seemingly just for you.

“Ms. L/N! Ms. L/N!” You turned quickly to greet the small voice that shouted for your attention. A small boy from your homeroom rushed up with a large amber leaf clutched in his tiny hands. “It’s huge!! Look at it!”

“It is, Tyrone! Why don’t you trace it like we did in class today?”

“By rubbing a crayon over it?”

“Yes,” you said sweetly, “but be careful. Even with the paper protecting it, the leaf is still brittle. It might break.”

“Okay,” Tyrone said, a giddy smile on his face. “I’ll show you when I get done!” The little boy quickly ran inside the cozy schoolhouse and you couldn’t help but envy the fact he would be sheltered from the cold. You gazed out at the rest of the children in the playground yard and felt a smile grace your lips.

Children clad in brightly colored coats and knitted wool hats screamed with joy as they played about. Some braved the freezing chains of the swing set and took to new heights while others were intently focused on the kickball match at hand. You felt a rush of warmth despite the immaculate weather roll through your body. It had taken a while, but you had made it. You were home, in New York, teaching a new, blooming generation of bright students. Now, you just couldn’t let them freeze to death before they changed the world.

“C’mon in kids!” you shouted, “It’s lunchtime!” A chorus of whoops and cheers greeted your ears as the bundled-up children funneled inside the small school. You waited until those few lingering students had walked through the doors.

Before you went inside yourself, you wandered the playground and picked up the stray play equipment. You leaned down slowly, picking up a jump rope and a doll one of the kids had snuck outside. Letting out a sigh, you turned to stand up straight. Your eyes wandered briefly over and across the street. Even though it was a mere glance, your gaze locked with another’s.

His face was obscured slightly by the hood of the black jacket he wore. Hands hidden inside the pockets, you couldn’t tell if he was familiar; but you could feel his eyes on you. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine, partly due to a sense of unease. Trying to mask your intent on getting a better look at him, you stalked over to the fence.

As you did, a large truck flew past on the pavement, disrupting your eye line. When your line of sight was clear once more, the darkened figure was gone. Brows furrowing, you glanced up and down the street, at least as much as the bulky fence before you would allow.

“Ms. L/N?!” A shout drew your attention away from your task as you looked over your shoulder. Tyrone stood in the doorway, waving a colored piece of paper gleefully. “I finished!”

“Great,” you said, turning back to where the man had stood moments before. You gave the area one last once over. Not a trace of him remained. Frowning yet slightly relieved, you started towards the happy boy. “Let me see what our resident artist as done!”

When three o’clock was signaled by the tolling of the final bell, you had barely thought of the strange figure you had seen across the street during the children’s recess. Now, however, he was all you could think about as your students filed out of the schoolhouse and into the widespread arms of the cruel Hell’s Kitchen. What ifs and questions of who he was berated your mind, brewing a worry that tied up your gut.

Then, when the last child was picked up and the final bus shuttled out, you felt a held breath release. With a renewed sense of ease, you gathered your things from your classroom and bid farewell to your fellow staff. They were kind people, good people. People who, like you, wanted to raise the children of Hell’s Kitchen up above the ashes.

As you walked out of the fenced in school yard, thoughts of your students cluttered your mind. You were so lost in your reflections that you almost missed the familiar black hood of the figure earlier. You could see him more clearly now, as he attempted to appear nonchalant on the corner. He was slim, with pointed features that just barely poked out from the hood.

Before you could even think about what to do, like a magnetic, your feet were drawn to him. They carried you over until you stood before him with a cocked head, peering into the face of a handsome man. His light hazel eyes seemed to blink with disbelief when they focused on you. You watched as his scruff covered jaw opened and closed quickly; but any words seemed to die out on his tongue as you waited.

“It’s you,” you said, giving the strange man a soft smile. You liked to preach to your students that kindness was first; so you felt you had to follow our own rules, even if the man before you seemed to be watching you closely.

“It’s uh,” he paused, his eyes barely meeting yours.

“I saw you, this afternoon. Across the street over there.” You pointed back down the block where the school was snugly seated. The man swallowed hard at your remark.

“I just um-”

“Is your child enrolled there?”

“What? No, no,” he shook his head, seeming to find his voice now. “I have just seen you around before. I didn’t realize you worked there. I didn’t mean to….to stare. Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you chirped, “you just worried me. You almost looked lost.” The man let out a chuckle at your assumption and it was the most wonderful sound you had ever heard. While it was soft, it started from his broad chest and seemed to grow in richness somewhere in his throat before it slipped from his lips. Your heart thumped wildly, as if it longed to chase after the laugh that seemed to drift off in the wind.

“I-I uh, I’m Y/N,” you said, trying to break yourself from your reverie. You extended a hand to him, hoping to break any tension that had started to arise. His nervous eyes glanced from your hand to your eyes then back again, as if he were calculating. Then, finally, his eyes met yours once more and his warm hand greeted your own.

“I’m Dex.”

If only he hadn’t given in, then you wouldn’t be in this mess. And oh, what a mess it was. It sickened Dex that it had taken this long for him to have realized. While he had been playing the part of Hell’s Kitchen’s beloved Devil, the true devil was clad in a crisp, white suit and sitting safely in a penthouse. He had been played and he was disgusted with himself.

Gulit ate away at Dex as he slowly rose from his knees. With shaking steps he walked over to the embedded blade and yanked it from the wall. A simple, menial thing to do. A distraction from what needed to be done. He tossed the knife in the sink and turned the faucet on. The sound of spraying water soothed him slightly as he closed his eyes.

Behind his eyelids, Dex saw only you. He knew the risks of watching you, but he couldn’t stop himself. You had worked at the Hotline for a while, not long enough to ever spare a glance at him but enough for him to become enraptured by you. Every word you spoke oozed with compassion and an innate softness that Dex, himself, naturally lacked. He longed to listen to you speak for hours on end and it nearly drove him mad when you finished school. His research told him you had earned your teaching degree and that you were destined to move on to bigger and better things.

That didn’t dull of the sting of your empty cubicle the following Monday. So when Dex joined the FBI, he used his new found resources to find his North Star again; to find you again. Of course you would work at a school for the less fortunate. Dex considered himself stupid for not coming to the conclusion himself. He would watch you, from a distance as you cared for the children you taught, as you gave them the guiding hand he longed for.

So when you came up to him that day, that day he had dared to get a little closer, that day he slipped up, everything changed for Agent Poindexter. He, himself, didn’t change, not entirely. As you both grew closer, he told you about his line of work. Dex even dared to mention his episodes, riding them off as a form of PTSD from his war days. Lying to you pained him, but he couldn’t let himself get too close.

Dex thought he had been doing a decent job at that. Never too close in public. Only in the privacy of his apartment did he dare to let his walls down. Only then would he allow himself to melt into your touch, your kiss. He never knew he could be capable of having you in that way. He had been foolish to think that it would last as his secret at all.

“Dex? I’m home!” Your voice called him out of his state, turning his attention to the door. You held brown paper bags of groceries in your arms, a domestic sight that Dex might have cherished if it had been at any other time. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he said softly, walking over to help you. “How’d it go today?”

“It went well, but Sandra K. was picking on Haley R. again. I think I’ll have to call the parents in to talk with them.” As you spoke, you walked over to the counter and pulled out a stool. You sat and watched as Dex put away the groceries. While he was listening and trying to distract his mind from itself, you watched the muscles in his back move against his shirt.

“That sounds hard,” he replied, turning back to you when he had finished. You bit your lip and nodded, eyes holding his gaze. You could tell something was eating at him, but you knew not to press it with Dex. If he needed or wanted to tell you, he would; but he had to do it on his own time. You learned that after your first fight with him, an event you did not wish to repeat.

“Yeah,” you said lazily, eyes drifting to the counter. Your brows furrowed when you saw a manila envelope resting there, open. “What’s this?”

Before your fingers even graced the packet, Dex had swiftly moved to the side of the counter you sat on and picked it up. You squinted at him, and the envelope, with piqued interest. Dex swallowed, but put on a smile, just for you.

“Work. A file they want me to look into.”

“Does it have nasty pictures in it?”

“Yeah, really gross.” You smiled at him and Dex’s smile widened a little too. It had become too easy to lie to you.

“Then keep it away,” you teased, “I don’t like nasty.” Dex let a huff escape his nostrils at your words and he rolled his eyes.

“That’s not what you said-” Before he could finish, you placed a slender finger against his lips. Long ago, Dex would have never allowed for this contact; but you had your way of breaking his once solid rules. Even if it took a few dates, you were had been determined to tear them down.

“Shh, Poindexter, just kiss me.” He smiled, truly smiled, against your finger. Resting the envelope, he reached for you. One of his large hands grabbed at your waist, pulling your body flush to his own. Your finger moved from his lips and traced his cheek gingerly.

He stared into your eyes a moment longer, taking you in. A wave of calm washed over him before he captured your lips in a searing kiss. His other free hand buried itself in your hair and Dex couldn’t help but marvel at the softness. He felt your hand make its way from his cheek to the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to your warmth.

Dex must have been lost like you had thought at the beginning, because with you, especially like this, he felt so completely himself. Your touch, your heart melted any voice or worry in his head away. His stress fell through his fingers like grains of sand when you spoke. Your kiss gave him a taste of normalcy he thought he could never had. He wasn’t going to let anyone take that, take you, away from him.

The envelope went ignored, forgotten the moment Dex hoisted you off your feet. He wrapped your legs around his hips and a giggle escaped your lips. As he walked with you over to his bedroom, his thoughts weren’t of the envelope. They weren’t of the images of you that lurked inside of it, taken by some goon Fisk had hired. They weren’t even about how he was going to kill the Kingpin, slaughter him for threatening you. All of Dex’s thoughts were given a lear focus; with you as his North Star.

#benjamin #benjamin poindexter #dex #bullseye #marvel #daredevil #netflix #marvel comics #daredevil comics #benjamin poindexter x reader #benjamin poindexter imagine #dex imagine #dex x reader #dex fanfiction #daredevil imagine #marvel imagine #hells kitchen #new york #dex x you

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madpanda75 · 6 years

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“Cuban Affair”

Disclaimer: It has recently come to my attention that this story raised concerns about how it’s not necessarily accurate for a Cuban, such as Rafael, to actually want to visit Cuba, given the oppression that Cubans were and still are subjected to under a Communist government.

Growing up with a Puerto Rican mother who was active in educating her children about human rights, particularly in Latin America, has truly shaped the woman I am today. I have studied Latin American politics in college; visited countries such as Peru, Haiti, Uruguay, and Argentina; walked with the Madres de Plaza de Mayo; visited La Escuela de Mecanica de la Armada where 5000 men and women were detained, tortured, and killed by their government, and worked with the Latino community in rural areas of Virginia. I am embarrassed that I would write a story and get lost in the romanticism of returning to your roots without even thinking of the ramifications that may have when the country in question is still run by a Communist political party.

So when reading this story, please understand that it is purely fictional and was never meant to offend anyone and I apologize for my ignorance on the subject.

Soft music played in the background of the restaurant as Rafael drummed his fingers against the table, turning his head when he heard the door open. He sighed when it wasn’t you, checking his watch for the umpteenth time that evening. This wasn’t the first time you were running late, in fact for the past month or so it had become a bit of a habit, you had even been coming home later than usual, blaming it on work.

Suddenly, Rafael heard his phone buzz in his pocket, he quickly answered without even checking who it was. “Cariño, are you on your way. I just ordered your favorite bottle of wine.”

“Awww Rafael, you shouldn’t have.” Sonny replied. The ADA rolled his eyes upon hearing your partner’s voice on the phone rather than yours.

“Sorry, Carisi. I thought you were Y/N. Speaking of which would you mind letting my fiancé go so she can come to dinner already.”

“What are ya’ talkin’ about counselor. Y/N left work early today, something about an appointment she had to make. She didn’t tell ya?”

“No, she didn’t.” Rafael softly said.

“Oh…..well, I’m sure it slipped her mind. Anyways the reason I called is because we’re getting close to the holidays and it’s always a slow time around the precinct. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind me shadowing you on a case again.”

Sonny continued to ramble when you walked into the restaurant. Rafael barely listened to him, waving you over from the table. “Yeah, whatever Carisi. We’ll talk tomorrow.” He hung up the phone as you approached him, kissing his cheek.

“Sorry I’m late babe. I love Sonny but, my God, that boy can talk. I couldn’t get away from him.” You said, taking your seat across from Rafael.

He raised his eyebrow at you, “That’s funny...cause I just got off the phone with him. Carisi said you left work early for an appointment.”

You looked up from the menu in your hands over at your fiancé, your face turning red. “Oh….well.” Rafael sipped his scotch, watching you squirm, he could tell you were lying. “You see….I had a doctors appointment….but I came back to work after that. “

“Sonny made it seem as if you didn’t come back to work.” The ADA said, quirking his eyebrow in suspicion.

“Well….. you know Sonny. He gets distracted. I mean the boy sees something shiny out of the corner of his eye and you’ve lost him. Anyways, let’s eat. I’m starving.” You said, quickly changing the subject as you picked up the menu again.

Rafael clenched his jaw, along with running late, you had been acting strange, always sneaking around and checking your phone. The other night you snapped at him for looking over your shoulder while you were working on your laptop. He stood there dumbfounded as you closed it quickly before storming off to the bedroom.

The last time he had witnessed such behavior was back when he had been in a relationship with Yelina, which only ended in betrayal and heartbreak. It took a while, but Rafael had managed to open his heart to you. Your relationship was built on trust and love, he never imagined that you would be capable of cheating on him, until now. Not wanting to start a scene in the restaurant, Rafael decided to drop it and focus on his evening with you.

After dinner, the two of you made your way back home. Dropping your purse and phone on the kitchen counter, you headed towards the bathroom to take a shower. Rafael collapsed on the couch, kicking off his shoes and resting his feet on the table when he heard your phone buzzing.

The ADA stood up, moving over to the phone, the vibrations causing it to dance across the counter. Although he knew it would be a betrayal of your trust, Rafael couldn’t help himself and reached for it, two text messages popping up on your screen.

[Larry 9:02 PM]

“We’re all set for the week of December 16.”

[Larry 9:04 PM]

“You were so jumpy this afternoon. Relax, he doesn’t suspect a thing.”

Rafael’s heart dropped into his stomach, his hands began to shake, the room suddenly spinning, as beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. “This can’t be happening to me,” he thought. After Yelina had left him for Alex, Rafael promised himself that he would never be put in this situation again and yet here you were cheating on him with a man named Larry. Who has an affair with a man named Larry?! Apparently you did.

Rafael poured himself a glass of scotch before deciding it was better to keep a sharp mind when he confronted you with your indiscretion. He threw the glass in the sink, glass shattering everywhere, running his hands through his hair, the ADA stood there waiting for you to come out of the shower.

You emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, surprised when you didn’t see your fiancé relaxing in bed. Walking down the hall, you saw him standing in the kitchen, his green eyes cold as they pierced right through you. “Raf…. everything ok?”

“Who’s Larry?” Rafael demanded.

You stood there stunned, turning redder by the minute, “I….don’t…….know who you’re talking about.”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Rafael boomed before taking a breath, trying to control his temper. “I saw your text messages. I know everything….I know all about Larry and the trip you’re planning in December. Did you really think you could hide this from me? How stupid do you think I am!?”

Now it was your turn to be angry at this blatant invasion of your privacy, “You read my text messages!? What the hell Rafael!”

“Oh so now you’re mad at me when you’ve been lying and sneaking around behind my back!” Your fiancé looked at you, a deep sadness settling into his frame, tears pooling in his eyes. “How could you do this to me after everything I’ve told you, after everything we’ve been through….you betray me.”

The realization that Rafael thought you were having an affair began to sink in, you stepped towards him, arms outstretched, “Raf, please let me explain.”

He shrugged you off, walking towards the door. “Don’t bother. I’m out of here.” You ran past him, almost losing your towel in the process as you blocked the door with your body. “Babe, please don’t leave. Just let me explain. Please I’m begging you! Please!”

He glared at you for a moment, rolling his eyes and moving towards the living room, sitting on the couch. “You have 5 minutes and then I’m gone.”

You ran to your bedroom, pulling a file out of your drawer before returning to the living room. Handing him the manila folder, you sat next to Rafael as he looked through the documents.

“What is this?” He asked, looking at various itineraries with a Cuban travel guide, hotel reservations, and plane tickets to Havana, one with his name on it. “You’re planning a trip to Cuba….we’re…...going to Cuba. You and me?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday…...so ‘Happy Birthday,’ I guess.” You softly said.

Your fiancé stared at you, a stunned look on his face. “That’s why you’ve been sneaking around.”

“Larry is an old friend of my parents, he’s a travel agent that specializes in trips to Cuba. I’ve been working with him to plan our vacation.” You explained. “We just need to make sure all of our documents, visas, and travel plans are in order before we go so he’s been helping me with that.”

“Oh my God….Y/N...we’re going to Cuba!” He shouted, jumping up and down on the couch, as if he was a kid on Christmas.

You beamed, nodding your head. In all the years you had known Rafael, you had never seen him so excited. “We’re all set for the week of December 16th. Figured it would be a nice change of pace from our traditional week of skiing in Switzerland.”

Rafael kissed you sweetly, smiling against your lips before pulling away, a somber expression on his face, “I’m so sorry I ruined your surprise, cariño and I’m sorry I thought you were having an affair.”

“Don’t apologize, I can see how you would think that but I would never cheat on you. I love you so much. You’re my world, Rafi.”

“I love you too.” Rafael cupped your face, caressing your cheek gently with his thumb. “For the record, you’re a terrible liar.” He said with a smirk.

You laughed, “I know...but it’s not easy keeping secrets from you.” Biting your bottom lip, you looked up at him through your lashes. “So…..you like your present?”

“Like it...I love it cariño.” He purred, pulling the towel away to reveal your naked form. “In fact, let me show you just how much I love my birthday present.” Rafael scooped you up into his arms, carrying you into the bedroom where he showed you just how much he loved his surprise.

A couple months later, you and Rafael were on an airplane flying into José Martí International. The ADA was beside himself with excitement, his nose practically pressed up against the window, looking out at the lush green island surrounded by deep blue water. As your plane slowly descended he could make out the colorful baroque Spanish style buildings of Havana.

He could hardly wait to explore the city that his abuela had talked about for years with such affection. If he closed his eyes, Rafael could still see the faint trace of sadness in her eyes, she had always wanted to go back, to show her grandson where he came from. “I finally made it, abuelita.” He thought to himself, holding your hand tightly as the plane’s wheels met the pavement, the sound of the engine roaring in his ears as his body was pushed back into his seat.

Suddenly the flight attendant came over the PA system, “Señoras y señores, bienvenidos al aeropuerto de José Martí Internacional. La hora local son las cuatro y 23 minutos de la tarde y la temperatura es de 27 grados centígrados.” As the flight attendant continued to speak, you looked over at Rafael, he was beaming with tears welling up in his eyes. “Cariño, I can’t believe we’re here. This is the best gift anyone has ever given me.” He said, kissing your hand. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Happy Birthday, mi amor.” You kissed him sweetly, before unbuckling your seatbelt, the two of you ready to embark on your Cuban adventure.

Translation: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to José Martí International Airport. The local time is 4:23 pm and the temperature is 80 degrees.

@beltzboys2015-blog @obfuscateyummy @letty-o @sweetsummertime99 @sonnysdoll @amirightcounsellor @lyssa1385 @burningsorr0ws @katmstanton @mimiashton @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @southern-magnolias

#rafael barba #rafael barba fic #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #barba #barba fic #barba imagine #law and order svu imagine #law and order svu fic #happy birthday raúl esparza

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purplesurveys · 5 years

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483

Is there a bus stop near your house?: No, buses don’t stop around my area and I only ever see them on EDSA, which is like the main highway of Metro Manila.

Do you prefer red wine or white wine?: I hate the shit out of wine but if I absolutely had to drink some, it has to be red. And it has to be more sweet than bitter.

What’s the last airport you were at? Why were you there?: NAIA. I’m literally at the Starbucks right across the airport right now because my mom is arriving from Hong Kong in an hour and I have to pick her up.

Who do you live with?: I live with my family. That’s a mom, a dad, a brother, a sister, a cat, and a dog.

Do you read reddit? If so, how often and what subreddits do you like?: Yessssss all the time. I always browse through the Popular filter since it already compiles the best recent posts, but I’m a huge fan of the r/AmITheAsshole subreddit. People who turn out to be the assholes are hilaaaaarious.

Have you recently broken up with a significant other or even just a friend?: No. I ‘broke up’ with Aya as a friend when she was being abusive to Jo, but she’s since started working on getting better and has apologized to our friend group, so she’s back on my good side.

What’s the weather like today? Is it nice enough to go outside?: It’s 29ºC. I’m glad we’re not in the 30s, but I don’t appreciate how warm it still is.

Do you know anyone who’s had a baby recently?: As far as I know, no.

Have you used a pen or pencil today? What did you write down?: [continued from earlier because I had to pick my mom up lmao] Yes, I used a pen today. It was to write my name on a requirement that I needed to submit to complete my class.

What does your last text message say and who is it from?: "Can I call?” from my girlfriend.

Can you count how many times you’ve seen your favourite film?: Must be near a hundred. I talked about this in a recent survey but there was a time I watched Two for the Road everyday for like 2-3 months. I still make it a point to watch it several times a year.

When was the last time you ate marshmallows?: I have no idea. I don’t like marshmallows; I’ve always hated the texture.

Do you listen to any podcasts? How do you listen to them?: Uhhh no, not really. If I REALLY REALLY like the guest, I’ll sometimes listen to Colt Cabana’s Art of Wrestling or Chris Jericho’s Talk is Jericho. But other than that, I’d rather watch YouTube videos.

How old will you be in the year 2030?: 32.

How often does the kettle in your house get used?: My mom never got one.

Does your skin bruise easily? Do you have any bruises right now? What from?: Yep, super. I don’t have a bruise right now but I do have a mysterious cut below my right knee. Have absolutely no idea where it came from, but apparently whatever cut it cut it deep and it hurts.

What was the last thing you spent $150 or more on?: I’ve never spent that amount of money on anything.

Do you prefer yes or no questions or more open-ended questions?: Open-ended. If I sense that a survey is becoming too yes-or-no I usually quit it halfway; it’s too boring.

What brand of toilet paper do you usually buy?: My mom buys the toiletries so I’m not aware of what brands she gets.

If I knocked on your door right now, would you be acceptable dressed?: Yes. I just got home and haven’t changed out of my jumpsuit.

Why did you leave your last job?: Never had one.

What colour were the last socks you wore?: It’s like a faded green.

Are you studying currently? What level of education and what do you study?: Yep! I’m an incoming senior in my BA in Journalism.

Have you ever eaten at a restaurant and left without paying?: No, that’s terrible.

What was the last thing that made you laugh out loud?: Probably something from Buzzfeed Unsolved cause I’ve been rewatching it lately.

What’s your favourite scent of air freshener?: Meh, I prefer the natural car smell. Scents make me dizzy.

How many weddings have you ever been to?: Four, I think. All of those when I was a kid; I haven’t been to a wedding since 2007.

Do you know anyone named Nora?: I don’t think so.

Are your hands and feet in good condition or could you do with a mani-pedi? My fingernails can be trimmed, but it’s not like a mess or anything. When was the last time you played a board game? What did you play?: We played a math version of Scrabble when we stayed over at Laurice’s house. I’ve never seen a game like it before lmfaaaaao it was so intense.

Have you ever been to a festival for beer or other type of alcohol?: Nope. I don’t think that would be my kind of scene, either.

Do you own a record player and/or vinyls?: I don’t have a record player so I don’t have vinyls.

When was the last time you went out for drinks?: Third week of May. Have you ever been to a strip club?: NO I really want to go to one though.

What’s your favourite kind of smoothie?: I don’t take smoothies.

Do you know anyone with a ‘virtue name’? (Google it): Hmm I don’t think so, but I know someone who wants to name their kid Prudence.

Would you ever wear real authentic leather?: Never.

Have you taken out the trash today?: Nope, I don’t do that around the house. How often do you wear make-up?: Very seldom. I had my face made up several times over the last few months because Kate sometimes gets bored and she’d want to give me a makeover, but other than that, I rarely get my face done for events.

What’s your opinion on The Simpsons?: I have a very soft spot for that episode where Homer sits on the hood of his car and looks at the stars after he separated from his mom. I don’t keep track of the rest of the show.

Do you prefer horizontal or vertical stripes?: Horizontal. I don’t think I’ve ever worn vertical ones before.

What’s your favourite brand of deodorant/antiperspirant?: I don’t have a favorite.

Do you know anyone who has been through a divorce?: No. We don’t have divorce in the Philippines. So it’s not because all the couples I know are staying strong – it’s literally because no one is allowed to divorce by law.

If you had the money, would you take taxis everywhere instead of driving?: No, taxi drivers can be creepy. I’d rather drive by myself.

Have you ever done a juice cleanse?: Nope. I don’t need it.

Do you have any friends who you can’t decide if they’re attractive or not?: HAHAHAHAHA WTF, that’s so messed up and such a shitty thing to do. Is the inside of your fridge clean right now or does it need a clean out?: It’s always clean. My mom doesn’t let any spot in the house go messy for long.

When was the last time you washed the dishes?: This morning before I left the house.

Are there any magazines that you read on a regular basis?: Nope, I haven’t read one in months.

Do you have to pay for parking in most places in the town/city you live in?: No, not in Antipolo. That’s why I love it here. Once I get to the city though we do have to pay for everything, yes.

What’s the first thing you tend to do when you have a headache?: Take a Biogesic. Takes it out immediately.

Tell me about your responsibilities at work.: I don’t have a legit job yet, but at my latest internship I did news monitoring, press releases, research, and made briefing forms for the media.

Can you hear lots of traffic from your house? Does it bother you?: No. I live in a gated subdivision so it is very quiet here. Have you ever had proper Canadian poutine with the squeaky cheese?: I have never tried poutine, what a damn shame. I wish I can encounter a restaurant that serves it cause it looks SO GOOD. Canadian cuisine is not very prominent here though so idk when I can ever get an authentic serving of poutine :(

Do your parents know how to operate smartphones and/or computers?: My dad is very techy, more so than me. My mom uses her phone for her Facebook and camera and nothing else. She still asks me to Google stuff for her even if her Chrome app is right beside Facebook.

How old are your parents, anyway?: My mom and dad are both 1971 babies so they are turning 48 this year.

Are you allergic to anything? What do you have to do to prevent them?: No. My skin can get very allergic to the environment (especially if it’s humid), but it’s not an allergy or anything.

What song is stuck in your head at the moment?: I haven’t been thinking of a song.

Do you hate it when people try really hard, or do you kinda like it?: Idk how to feel about them...like sometimes I’d think it’s hilarious but other times I’d feel sorry and just cringe. But I’m certain I don’t hate it.

What’s your boss’ first name? Do you call him/her by that name?: My boss at internship is named Dessa. I call her that but I address her with Ms. before her name too so that it’s respectful.

When was the last time you wore a uniform of any kind? What colour was it? I wore my old school uniform last year for funsies because I spotted it in our storage closet and felt a little nostalgic. No reason to wear it, just wanted to mess around. The blouse ws white, the necktie and skirt are plaid.

Do you complete a survey before taking this one? Will you take one after?: No. After this, I’m torn among a) getting a midnight snack, b) taking another survey, and c) watching RuPaul’s Drag Race since I started getting into it last night, hahaha. Have you ever lost enough weight to drop a dress size?: I probably have, except I wasn’t actively trying to achieve that.

What’s your favourite kind of bread?: White and brioche.

When was the last time you got pizza? What toppings did you get?: Last Thursday. We got a cheese pizza and a barbecue chicken pizza.

Do you own Monopoly? Is it the original or a special version?: We don’t. I don’t know how to play Monopoly haha it always seemed just so boring to me.

What was the last thing you said out loud?: "Whatcha doing?”

You have to choose one: cats or dogs?: Dogs.

Would someone being either a cat or dog person affect you dating them?: It probably would. I wouldn’t want to be with someone who wants to own a cat with me. I love cats but I would never want them as a pet.

How do you travel to and from work?: I drive myself always. I don’t work yet, though.

Do you primarily use cash or card for your purchases? Why?: Cash, because I don’t have a card.

Have you ever been to a stadium concert?: I’ve been to arena concerts, if they mean the same thing lmao.

#survey #surveys

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mayuuunaise · 5 years

Text

fic: pretty in punk

a/n: i pounded out roughly 5000+ words instead of making lesson plans :’))) it was so fun and easy to write though!! post s02e05

fandom: b-project: koudou ambitious read on: ao3 | under the cut

Truthfully, Tsubasa is immensely grateful that her fretting and worrying is all due to one big misunderstanding on both of their parts. Though, she is a tad bit concerned and equal parts guilty of contributing to said misunderstanding via misconceived expectations in the first place.

Yuuta tells her it’s fine; it’s nice to have a half-day off playing with the other boys after all. It’s not often their schedules and off days line up so perfectly. Tsubasa should know this, considering how much she spends time looking at spreadsheets and calendar apps just to make sure she can make it through the day without splicing her body in half over simultaneous schedules. Still, she can’t shake off that hint of disappointment in Yuuta’s usual cheer that has set her on edge for the duration of the work day.

It’s the pink-haired idol’s turn to record, and while Kaneshiro is busy making adjustments to the song arrangement, she takes the chance to gather information from his other teammate.

“Aizome-san, excuse me,” Tsubasa gingerly sits at the edge of the sofa, in between the other two members. “Do you mind if I asked you something?”

Aizome sends her one of his usual sly smiles, the one where the corner of his mouth twitches just so. “Is it for a date? Because I would say yes in a heartbeat.”

“What— no, err,” Tsubasa clears her throat and shifts awkwardly in her seat. Aizome seems quick on the uptake because he trades in his amused grin for a softer expression as he tilts his head to the side and chuckles. After a year of working with him, Tsubasa really should know better. Shaking off the flush from her cheeks, she leans a little closer to the idol. “Actually, well, it’s about Yuuta-kun.”

“Talking about another man really isn’t my style, Tsubasa-chan.”

“I just, well, I’m wondering if Yuuta-kun is that big of a fan of Justice Hoover?” She deliberately ignores Aizome’s comments and presses on, fiddling with her cellphone. “If I knew, I would have — err… I mean, Shuuji-san would definitely bring back a souvenir if we asked, right? Yuuta-kun just looked…really disappointed, I want to make it up to him.”

Aizome blinks slowly at her before barking out a short laugh, quickly covering it with the back of his hand. His bright blue eyes dart to the young man in question asking for one more run through of his own solo lines in the recording booth. Tsubasa doesn’t quite understand, but she feels as if she should be a little embarrassed, though is hesitant to ask Aizome if there’s anything wrong with what she’s saying.

Two misunderstandings in one day is clearly enough.

“It’s not really about Justice, and really he’s not as upset as he seems,” Aizome starts. “Though, I guess a part of him is just happy enough that you’re not going to the concert with someone else.”

“Please don’t tease me like that, Aizome-san…”

“Who says I am?” Aizome leans a little closer to her, and Tsubasa can almost take a whiff of the rose-scented conditioner he most probably used after the soccer game. Instinctively, Tsubasa leans back, her spine a little straighter as she prepares herself for another one of the blue-haired idol’s flirty banter. “I’m not afraid to say I’m very happy you’re not going on a date in a VIP room for some foreigner’s live concert.”

“Aizome-san…” Tsubasa trails off before pouting. There’s a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach already telling her that the male isn’t willing to divulge everything so easily. “But I still want to make it up to him. I mean, part of the whole futsal match was because I said something that led to expectations.”

“Tsubasa-chan, it’s not your fault and you know it.” Aizome assures her, a soft smile playing on his lips. Yuuta is almost at the end of his solo parts of THRIVE’s latest song, and Tsubasa feels that this isn’t really something she can freely talk about when the boy in question can actually hear it.

“But still, isn’t there’s something I can do?”

“I’m sure if it’s you, anything would be okay, Tsubasa-chan.” Aizome whispers with a smile that tells her he’s being vague on purpose. The older man expertly shifts the topic immediately when Yuuta steps out of the recording booth, excitedly asking them why they looked so cosy while he’s been hard at work recording his parts over and over again. Tsubasa doesn’t really understand, but Aizome sends her a wink over Yuuta’s shoulders, which only sends the pink-haired young man into another hyperactive frenzy. Kaneshiro has to raise his voice in the recording booth for the both of them to stop fooling around, it’s so distracting sheesh.

Tsubasa asks other people, like Aizome later suggests, but ends up with vague answers that leave her a little more confused than usual. She figures that the person closest to Yuuta aside form his teammates is Ryuuji, but the younger boy simply refuses to give him any more info than is strictly necessary.

“Shouldn’t you figure that out yourself?” Ryuuji pops another bubblegum flavoured chupa chuls in his mouth, waiting for Kitakado to return from hair and makeup. Tsubasa wonders briefly if she should be counting how many lollipops the idol actually consumes in a day, and if she should be mildly worried about it even, but brushes the thought away when Ryuuji narrows his pretty fuchsia eyes at her. As if he knows exactly what she’s thinking and he’s having none of it.

“But, I’ve been trying to think about it properly myself, and nothing came up.” Tsubasa sighs, flipping through her phone’s note sections to check on what else KitaKore needs before their music video shoot. She shouldn’t really be complaining in front of him, it’s entirely too unprofessional. Ryuuji’s incredibly blunt personality makes it easier for her to open up and be honest though. “And Yuuta-kun really has been working very hard lately. I wanted to do something for his efforts.”

“Are you saying we aren’t working as hard as he is?” Ryuuji points the frosty pink sphere of candy near her nose in what seems to be a menacing manner, though the scent of sweet bubblegum fills her nostrils and dispels the dread from the pit of her stomach.

“No, no! Of course not! I would never—”

Ryuji chortles a little bit, before popping the chupa chuls back into his mouth. “I’m kidding. But you’re lucky I was the one who heard that, the other groups might not be as forgiving you know? Nor would they be as generous—they’d be scrambling to get a reward from you as well.” Ryuuji smirks and leans back against the cushions, obviously enjoying how much discomfort he’s giving her at the wall she’s just backed herself into. “But— I do agree, Yuuta has been working himself to the bone lately. Are you praising him that much, Tsubasa-chan?”

“That’s not—”

“Korekuni-kun, Kitakado-san is ready for the group take. You’re needed on set in five!” A staff member cuts them short, popping her head in the dressing room and tapping the watch on her wrist for emphasis. Tsubasa calls out an affirmative almost immediately. Ryuuji sighs and stands up, toying with the lollipop stick in his mouth as he mutters something about ruining his fun.

“Well, when it comes down to it, you’ll know what he wants, Tsubasa-chan,” Ryuuji comments flippantly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in amusement. “And if you don’t, I’m sure you’ll be enough.”

“Good afternoon! I hope I’m not intruding.” Tsubasa calls out, closing the door to THRIVE’s shared apartment behind her. She’s starting to toe off her boots when she notices the uncanny silence that’s usually absent from the rowdy trio’s afternoons off. “Hm? Are the others out? But the door was unlocked…”

Kaneshiro seems to be the only one in the living room, ears covered with his earphones and eyes staring intently at his laptop screen before flitting down at the sheet music in his hands. Tsubasa attempts to clear her throat, knowing fully well how much Kaneshiro dislikes it whenever anyone bothers him when he looks as focused as he does. It doesn’t work, and while Tsubasa debates over stepping past the receiving area awkwardly, Kaneshiro finally looks up and looks a bit surprised to find her company.

“Ah, Sumisora, what are you doing here? You should have said something, geez.”

“The documents for your next live event just came in, I wanted to give it to the group as soon as possible.” She lifts the manila folder as evidence, before scanning the vicinity for signs of any other humans in the house. “I’m sorry, should I have come at another time?”

“No, no, it’s fine, I’ll just give it to them when they come back.” Kaneshiro makes the motion of cleaning the desk of his stuff, before Tsubasa tries to stop him to say she won’t be here for long anyway. The brunette stands awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck and red eyes darting from the kitchen back to her. “So…uhhh, do you want some…tea or something? I’m sure Aizome has something in there that you’d like.”

“Mm, coffee would be fine, if it doesn’t trouble you!” Tsubasa isn’t entirely sure that Aizome wouldn’t throw a fit should Kaneshiro rifle through his tea collection, even if it is for her. Kaneshiro nods, visibly more relieved from not having to make the effort to prepare tea properly, before shuffling into the kitchen. Tsubasa isn’t quite sure what to do with herself and awkwardly shifts from foot to foot, contemplating on joining him in the kitchen or just staying in place.

“Sit down, you’ve been running around the whole day again, haven’t you?” She hears Kaneshiro grumble under his breath, back turned towards her as he moves to reach for one of the guest mugs he has probably seen her use the most. She squeaks out a quick yes, thank you, excuse me, before sitting near the edge of one of THRIVE’s sofas, taking a quick peek at the music sheet he’s been working on before she arrived. Ah, Kaneshiro has already begun arranging their setlist based on the little information she has given them the week before; as expected.

A glint of light reflecting catches her eye just as she’s about to comment, and Tsubasa is immediately drawn to the dark album case thrown haphazardly on their coffee table.

“Hm? Kaneshiro-san, isn’t this the band that performed with you in the Raijin festival last year?” Tsubasa picks up the cd case and admires the album jacket before flipping it over to scan through the song list. Some have been playing on the radio recently, and she recognizes the single they’ve been promoting with as a punk song some of the younger kids like to listen to.

“Yeah, Ashu has been listening to this a lot lately.” Kaneshiro places her mug on the coffee table in front of them, hers significantly lighter compared to the deep brown of his own. She thanks him before looking back at the album in awe. She doesn’t think she can imagine Yuuta, all bubblegum pop pink, jam to the harsher beats of a punk rock group. Then again, THRIVE’s wild music has been more rock band inspired lately.

“Eh, really? I didn’t know Yuuta-kun was interested in punk bands.”

“Well, Ashu liking punk rock isn’t the most surprising thing in the world, you know. The guy can listen to whatever he wants.” Kaneshiro shrugs nonchalantly, but she has to admit that it’s true. She picks up her mug of warm coffee, and wonders how big the difference between them knowing her and her understanding them really is. “There are lots of things that you don’t know about us.”

“Ah, but that just makes me want to work harder and understand all of you more. I do want to get to know all of you better—” Tsubasa is interrupted by Kaneshiro almost choking on his hot drink. She panics — just a little, she’s grown from her anxious newbie days after all — and starts patting his back and asking what’s wrong. Kaneshiro refuses to answer, but the tip of his ears are stained as red as his eyes. Instead, he shifts the topic back to the next live event and the music arrangement he has been working on before she arrived.

In the end, Kaneshiro’s words seem to have stuck the most, and she wonders if Nishiyama Takanori might be a bit more familiar with the punk rock scene. Tsubasa ends up making calls to a few people and working overtime in order to arrange Yuuta’s schedule just right for her surprise to work. She apologizes quietly to Yuuta when she fills in another early morning schedule to compensate for an earlier day off.

This will be worth it, she has to believe that at least.

THRIVE’s schedule is set to start early for their live event when the tickets arrive in her mailbox that morning. Momo had helped her with booking tickets online at a concert auction the week before, Tsubasa being far too busy running around between sets to properly search for one physically. The red head isn’t too amused at the special treatment Yuuta gets, but Tsubasa assures him that she’ll be sure that MooNs gets their own day off to play around sometime soon.

(Momo laughs softly when he tells her that’s not really the point. Tsubasa doesn’t really have time to dissect what exactly he means before he tells her that he looks forward to her making it up to them as well for how hard they’ve been working.)

“Everyone, good job out there!” Tsubasa is ready with cooling towels and colds water bottles when the unit gets back in their dressing room, still full of energy and adrenaline from a live performance. They’re absolutely glowing like this, hyped up from the fans and flushed from the rush of a good set. Tsubasa really, really thinks she’s far too lucky for landing a job like this.

“Thanks, Tsubasa-chan! Did you see me do that drum solo? Did you, did you?” Yuuta laughs as he picks up his water bottle from her awaiting hands. Kaneshiro practically growls when he slaps a towel over the pink haired idol’s face.

“You idiot, that improv almost ruined the whole set.” The brunette huffs, downing almost half of the cold water in one go.

“Ehhh, but it was fun! The fans thought so too, they were super hyped up, you know?”

“Yuuta, it’s best you talk about these things before hand.” Aizome chuckles before smirking at the disgruntled expression on Kaneshiro’s face. “You know our Goshi doesn’t like being surprised.”

“What did you say!?”

“It’s true, isn’t it? Isn’t that why you’re giving Yuuta such a hard time?”

“Mou, come on now, it’s fine! The live was great, we kicked some major butt out there!” Yuuta laughs before subtly separating the two from getting too close with each other. Tsubasa admits that it’s always so amazing to see Yuuta simultaneously be the reason THRIVE argues in the first place and the reason why they drop it.

Tsubasa laughs, “You all seem to be getting along well, as usual.”

“Hmph, what part of this looks like ‘getting along well’ huh, Sumisora?” Kaneshiro slumps in the seat across from her, arms crossed over his chest as he cools down. Aizome takes the seat next to her, chuckling a little before pulling up his compact mirror. Aizome doesn’t even look at them, but continues the conversation anyway as he readjusts the stray wisps of his blue hair.

“Now, now, Goushi, it doesn’t do well to be such a sore loser.”

“Why you—”

Yuuta has him back in his seat before he has a chance to say anything more. His hands are firm on the shorter young man’s shoulders, “Relax, Gouchin! We should be congratulating ourselves, that was a super awesome set.”

“Yes, it was. I could see how excited the fans and even some of the staff members were when I was in the wing.” Tsubasa compliments before bringing out her cellphone, quickly tapping through a few things before finding the calendar application that she usually uses. “And because of all the hard work that you’ve been doing the past few weeks, Shuuji-san decided to give you guys an early long weekend.”

Noises of disbelief come from the three, asking if she’s serious about it. Truthfully, she had to almost beg Shuuji for the day off, the president only giving up under the condition that she’d be on call still just in case any surprise, extremely important events arise.

“Your last schedule is only until tomorrow at noon, afterwards you’re free to spend the day as you please.” Tsubasa informs them. Aizome already seems to be making scheduled dates from the looks of his rapid typing, and Kaneshiro asks until what time the studio they often frequent is open. Yuuta seems to be the most excited, listing down all of the things he could do for the next few days, which reminds her that she really should give the tickets to him as soon as she can before he makes any set plans that could conflict with the concert’s schedule.

Tsubasa digs through her canvas bag, trying to get a glimpse of the familiar sakura-print ticket holder she normally uses. Her eyes light up when she manages to find it, “Ah, Yuuta-kun—”

Yuuta pauses mid-listing, and turns to her. The others pause whatever they’re thinking of as well and copy his movements, evidently curious as to what she needs. Tsubasa feels a little flustered under their expectant gazes, she really should have thought this out more. Maybe Ryuuji is right, and the boys really would be demanding their own rewards for working just as hard.

(A voice in the back of her head that sounds suspiciously similar to the younger of the KitaKore duo tells her, of course Ryuuji is right, you idiot)

Yuuta snaps her out of her thoughts when he calls her name, and Tsubasa flushes just a little, hand gripping the ticket holder hard enough that it creases.

“That is, uhm…!” Tsubasa decides ripping the band aid right off is better than prolonging her agony in any other way, matter, or form. Her hand shoots out from her bag, gripping the sakura-print cover tightly between her index finger and thumb. “Here!”

Yuuta blinks back at her, big amethyst eyes full of confusion. Tsubasa tries very hard not to look at the other two members of THRIVE when he gingerly plucks it from her hands. “Mm? What is it, Tsubasa-chan?”

“They’re, uhm, tickets…” Tsubasa drifts off and tries desperately to avoid THRIVE’s various levels of accusatory stares. “…to-to a band called Ominous Them? They’re playing in the Shinjuku area soon, and Shuuji-san told me you’ve been a fan of them for a while now—”

Tsubasa finally looks up to find Yuuta’s amethyst eyes practically sparkling in excitement, mouth open in a bright grin that only seems to highlight his prominent canines even more. Kaneshiro rolls his eyes and slumps in his seat, though his own gaze flits back and forth at the tickets creasing in their youngest’s vice grip.

“Tsubasa-chan, do you mean it?” Yuuta laughs and whoops louder, jumping up and down in excitement. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…!!”

Aizome gives her a look from the corners of her eyes, but really, Tsubasa is just relieved to see the pink-haired idol so happy about it. She finally releases a sigh of relief and smiles contentedly at him. “I’m glad you’ll have fun then, Yuuta-kun.”

“Eh, but you’ll be coming too, won’t you?” Yuuta pauses, genuinely confused when she blinks up at him blankly.

“Oh, I thought you might want to invite someone else to enjoy your day off with—”

“Then, Tsubasa-chan! I pick Tsubasa-chan to watch this with!”

“Come on now, Yuuta, you can’t just bother Tsubasa-chan like this.” Aizome reprimands him gently. Yuuta, in turn, gives him a big childish pout. He looks ready to throw a tantrum if the need arises.

“Ehhh, but there’s no point if Tsubasa-chan doesn’t come with me.” Tsubasa can feel her face heat up at his words, what does that even mean?

“Come on, Ashu, don’t be so rude. You don’t even know if she likes music like that.” Kaneshiro huffs and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest in the process. Aizome hums in agreement.

Kaneshiro’s words seem to have hit him somewhere where it hurts, because Yuuta’s expression falls at the realization of the possibility of her not actually wanting to spend her day off with him. “But, uhh… if Tsubasa-chan doesn’t want to go, then I guess—”

“No, it’s not—!! I would be honoured if you wanted me to come with you, Yuuta-kun!”

Yuuta’s face perks up immediately as he jumps up with a loud whoop. The pink haired idol does a little dance in his place, chanting alright, alright, alright! in various levels of excitement. Tsubasa wonders if she should be worried about attending a punk rock show for the first time, especially when Kaneshiro snorts and mouths a sarcastic good luck from his seat across her.

Whatever Tsubasa imagines a punk rock live concert is, it’s definitely not much like the real thing. The walls have been painted black, from what she can tell by the parts not hidden behind various band posters and vandalism at the very least. Her nose wrinkles as it catches a whiff of a weird mix of smoke, cheap cologne and stale beer. Tsubasa fingers the hem of her pastel sweater, awkward and out of place in this sea of dark reds and black.

Her eyes flit over to Yuuta beside her, practically thrumming in excitement. Yuuta, whose bubblegum pink hair has been hidden discreetly and expertly underneath a knit beanie (something in her gut tells her he probably borrowed it from Kaneshiro). Yuuta, whose easygoing personality has instantly scored him some friends from waiting in the line outside together. Yuuta who definitely must not feel any awkwardness infiltrating his body in spite of the new environment. Tsubasa envies him, just the slightest bit.

She bites the bud of self-doubt before it grows any further.

“Have you gone here before, Yuuta-kun?”

“No, not here.” Yuuta shakes his head, a few stray strands flying out to frame his freckled face. He reaches out to tuck it back, exposing the dangling piercing on his right ear. “Gouchin and I snuck into one before we debuted! That was a fun experience.”

Before Tsubasa can ask any more, the distant buzzing of chatter suddenly rise to screams and cheers as the band shuffles their way to the stage. Yuuta joins in beside her, but otherwise makes no move to enter into the fray of people flocking the edge of the stage. How weird must it be for Yuuta, whose everyday job is to stand on the other side, to be now hanging back with the crowd? The brunette claps politely as the front-liner taps twice on the mic with a lazy grin, sweeping his wild hair back with a free hand.

“I’m seeing a lot of familiar faces here in the crowd.” The vocalist notes, scanning through the sea of people. Tsubasa wonders if he can even see anything against the glare of lights? She would have to ask the boys later on if it really is true that you can see the faces of the fans past the third row. “Which is always a fun thing you know?”

Tsubasa can practically feel Yuuta buzzing, all grins as he shouts along with the fans. The drummer plays a haphazard beat before hooting, revving and riling up the crowd even more.

“Shinjuku, are you ready to rock!?”

The band launches into song immediately after, and the sound sends her to almost another world entirely. Kaneshiro has warned her about the intense volume that punk rock music brings with it, Aizome almost teasing when he asks if he’s that worried about her. Really, though, Tsubasa doesn’t think any of his warnings ready her for anything as powerful as this.

It’s loud and chaotic, and the images that flash across her head are too fast for her to properly process. The whole thing makes her a little dizzy, as if they want to throw everything at her all at once.

But she feels so, so alive.

When the brunette turns to Yuuta, the pink haired idol can’t stop his body from moving. He looks at her, and then back to the crowd. There’s a twinkle in his eyes that tell her he’s up to something, but the bright smile on his face convinces her that whatever it is he asks, it’s something that she’d eventually want to fulfill. Yuuta reaches out a hand to her, all wild mischief and sincere heart.

“Do you trust me?”

Tsubasa says yes in a heartbeat, and before she has time to think twice about what Ryuuji would inevitably call a very stupid decision, Yuuta pulls her in and leads the way towards the crowd gathering in front. The brunette can faintly hear the younger man deliberately telling her not to let go of his hand, no matter what happens. (she’s awkward and shy in an unfamiliar environment, of course she’s never letting go of the hand of the one person she actually knows in this punk rock fest)

Bodies press close to each other in a weird form of companionship that Tsubasa has never really seen. And although she’s nervous, her heart beating loudly against her chest, Yuuta makes sure to grin in support, you’re doing great, Tsubasa-chan. Yuuta leans in close, the only way he’ll be able to let her hear him of course, and the blood pounding behind her ears gets even louder. “Just dance! Come on, dance with me!”

“How—What do I do?”

“Whatever feels natural!”

He takes her hands, careful of how his numerous accessories press against her skin. Yuuta begins jumping up and down, not so much as a dance step as it is just making sure that he gets to exhaust his energy and move around. Tsubasa awkwardly follows his lead, steps a little mismatched. Yuuta starts banging his head, making her laugh in delight seeing fluffy bubblegum pink hair flying wild and free, his beanie almost off of his head when he’s done. She can feel the sweat dripping against the back of her neck, incredibly aware of how many other bodies there are in this mosh pit, but Yuuta has the uncanny ability to somehow take all of her attention unapologetically.

She has never seen a Yuuta this free and so genuinely happy.

Yuuta bounces in time to the beat and somehow Tsubasa matches his pace. His grin is somehow extra-blinding before he throws both of their hands up and lets out a loud “Whoo!”

And maybe she actually does feel that this is kind of fun—

But then he accidentally does let go of her hand, and Tsubasa is swept away in the crowd of people shoving and dancing and way too into her personal space; where’s Yuuta?

Shoulders and elbows. Digging into her sides and almost hitting her head. One burly man apologizes for accidentally pushing a young girl almost half his size. One tattooed woman screams for more music too close to her sensitive ears. Too close for comfort. This is far too much she can handle. Where the hell is Yuuta? And—

Tsubasa can’t breathe—

Someone wraps a hand around her wrist and she’s about to scream bloody murder until her bright red eyes meet a spray of familiar freckles. Tsubasa doesn’t know if she wants to cry out in frustration more or melt in absolute relief over finding her idol (or is she technically the one who has been found?). Shuuji-san would skin her alive if she tells him she lost THRIVE’s moodmaker in a sea full of people wearing various pointy accessories.

“Yuuta-kun, please don’t scare me like that!” Tsubasa has to shout over how loud the music is and how many people are cheering as the band transitions into a new song.

“I’m so, so, so sorry, Tsubasa-chan!” Yuuta at least looks as apologetic as he sounds, his hands squeezing her wrists as if to remind himself that she’s right there still. “I didn’t mean to lose you, I promise!”

Tsubasa nods and uses her free hand to wipe away the unshed tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Yuuta sighs in relief, shoulders sagging before smiling softly at her. He takes away her hand from her face and slips his palms over hers firmly holding on.

Tsubasa feels her face heat up and is thankful for all of their jumping around just moments before. “Yuu, Yuuta-kun?”

When the brunette looks up, Yuuta doesn’t quite meet her eyes, his own amethyst ones flicking all over the place before they finally rest on their entwined palms. “This is… just so I can make sure I don’t lose you again. Is this okay?”

The rapid beating of her heart tells her it’s not okay, but she’s held hands with him before, and it really isn’t that weird, right? So Tsubasa nods shakily, and lets herself be overwhelmed by the bright beam Yuuta gives her in response.

“Do you still want to dance in the mosh pit?” Tsubasa knows how much of a good person the idol is, and it’s further cemented by the fact that she also knows if she says no, he’ll pull the both of them out even though he looks like he still really, really wants to play.

And isn’t this supposed to be a reward for Yuuta working so hard?

Tsubasa nods, and barely mouths a just for a little bit more, before Yuuta whoops and hollers. He pulls her close and immediately finds the beat again. Tsubasa doesn’t suppress the laugh that bubbles in her throat as the energy from everyone eventually infects her, and she’s up and about and almost as bouncy as Yuuta.

#b-project #bpro #sumisora tsubasa #ashu yuta #yuta/tsubasa #what is their ship name even????#otp: like a world of dreams #i really really love them :')))#thrive/tsubasa are such good wholesome ships #mayu writes

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womanlalaboy · 5 years

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Lublob #1: Liwaliw sa Liwliwa

My friend, Mina often tells me that it's easier to find a better job, a better company and a higher salary, but it's never easy to find colleagues that you can truly get along with and a boss that genuinely cares about your well-being. I'm lucky to have found colleagues that aren't just professionals but treat each other like family. It also happens that we all share our love for stories and the sea. There was a point where we had to part ways. Most of us had to leave the workplace to venture in different fields, and the rest of us who were left behind were just devastated. Nothing would have compared to every day feeling as if something's missing- that things could have been more fun if we're complete. We've accepted the inevitable change, but we needed something to really start facing whatever tomorrow would bring. I thought of having a quick escape to Liwliwa Zambales as a symbol of our resilience and courage to embrace whatever is ahead of us.

There were a few things I learned in this trip that I wouldn't have fully understood hadn't I experienced them first-hand.

Never underestimate commuting from Imus, Cavite going to Manila. It'll take you ages.

It wouldn't hurt to ask around.

It's not that bad to be scared of getting scammed in the streets while you ask for directions or whatnot, so you better ask as many people as you can until you're satisfied with the answers you've got.

Take advantage of the opportunity to use this generation's technology. You a have a phone? Mobile data? Then utilize Google Maps!

Never underestimate EDSA. It's okay to walk from Heritage Hotel going to the bus terminal only if you're not running late.

Never fully trust your friend who, despite her adult age, still couldn't differentiate right from left.

I just realized that there are still adults who are having a hard time distinguishing right from left. Well, who am I to speak? I only learned how to commute on my own when I had to enter college.

We dropped off at San Felipe around four in the afternoon. We asked around to find a place where we can stay. We chose to let the situation take us to where we're supposed to be instead of planning and reserving for a place to check into. We knew that there weren't many tourists around that time so we calmly walked through the area until we found Kaptina's Liwa.

Right after checking in and fixing our stuff, we went straight to Villa Santos- just across Circle Hostel, a few steps away from Kapitan's Liwa. We were told that they ran out of stock since a lot of tourists swarmed the area the past weekend. There were only a few food options, but we're glad that they're both affordable and delicious. Sulit!

We went back to Kaptian's Liwa and prepared for surfing then walked a few minutes to get to the beach where we saw a few fellow tourists. We almost had the place to ourselves around sunset since the waves are getting bigger and harder to swim. It was pretty hard to look for an instructor and we didn't know where to get one. The caretaker from Kapitan's Liwa told us that we can get lessons with Kila-bot, so we decided to check them out, but before we got to the bamboo walls, we saw a surfer with his long board and we immediately asked if he does lessons or if he knows a place where we could get surfing instructors. While he went to the beach to surf, we're lucky he teaches surfing and was willing to help us out.

He really went that afternoon to the beach to surf. He said he just got back from Siargao where a Surfing Championship was held and he misses home so much that the first thing he wanted to do was surf the waves of Liwliwa. We gave him a few minutes to be reunited with his mother wave and after playing around a bit, he went to call out his fellow instructors. All four of us had the opportunity to ride that afternoon. We had no photos of us surfing, but we did enjoy the massive tide and the spectacular sunset. Charina and I also used hard top single fin mini mals for the first time. We were so used to using soft top long boards in Baler so imagine the anxiety we had to conquer that beautiful afternoon in Liwliwa. Not to mention the waves weren't for beginners at that time. We were the only ones who braved the waves that were eating up the shore.

It's always a nice idea to talk to the locals and hear their stories. My instructor at the time would often watch a grom practicing his shuvs and turns. He told me that there are many kids in Liwliwa who want to learn surfing, but there weren't many opportunities for them or there weren't enough board to surf with, so the elder surfers would often help them with their practice and surfing needs. I also agreed with him when he said that it's better for the kids to get into activities like surfing instead of going elsewhere. Before we get to the shore after our session, he told the grom that he'll give him a shorter board next time he visits Manila. He found someone to sponsor them, he said.

I can say that all the hassle getting to Liwliwa paid off when we got to see the sunset. The one we saw at Liwliwa perhaps was the best I've seen so far. Our surf session started around five in the afternoon- the waves are getting bigger, the sun was setting, and the tide was rising. It was dangerous, the locals said as the waves were eating up the shore, the sea bed was uneven and the waves were crashing against each other almost simultaneously, but all is well since we've got our trusted instructors and that the sunset kept us company. All of us were distracted and kept looking at the horizon. We weren't able to take photos of that magical moment since we were all out surfing and just taking everything in. When we finished the session and the sea calmed down a bit, we sat there by the beach waiting for the nightfall. Only when we decided to go back I remembered to take some snaps.

We went back to Kapitan’s and prepared to go food hunting. Asking around proved to be very beneficial to us since the locals know the place better than we do and it also helped us to connect easily with Liwliwa's people. One told us to ride a tricycle going to Cosmic Pares. Their crew was teaching a few foreign travelers how to speak in Filipino. If you're a Filipino, you already know how things like that hilariously get. Even us couldn't help but laugh with them.

They had many options, but we got ourselves some Beef Mami, Pares, Bangsilog, Sisig and beer. We finished the dinner off with a platter of Chicken Wings. They were trying things out since they just opened their stall so they offered a few samples with us like their Lambanog with lemon and when they were challenging the foreigners to eat Balut, they gave us some as well. If I remember it correctly, they were planning to add Balut sisig to their menu, but I'm not really sure how that worked out.

Cosmic Pares wasn't really that far from Kapitan's Liwa so we decided to just walk back and stop at Villa Santos's to get a few more beers. We had the whole night talking about our frustrations in life, work, and love life. We had plenty of time to cry things out, comfort each other and just breathe- which was really what we came here for.

The night was long, but like everything else, it eventually had to end. The next morning, we took our time preparing for a long day ahead. We chilled out, roamed around, experience the enchanting sound of the wind and watched the dancing of the Agoho trees. After then, we went to the beach as if bidding goodbye. We took a few photos and chilled out by the beach like we're memorizing every curve of the waves and the way the sea touches the shore. When we finally accepted the fact that we had to leave soon, we went back to Kapitan's Liwa to take a bath and fix our stuff- the heaviest and saddest part of visiting Liwliwa.

The entire trip only lasted for about two days and a night- pretty short, but I had the chance to run away from work, get away from the chaos in the city, the noise of the high ways, the foolishness of political news and the dirt in the streets. I had the opportunity to enjoy life with friends in a place that accepted us for who we are, with no judgment, no inhibitions. My soles finally were able to touch the sand again; we were able to eat good food with good company, laugh with people we don't know, got free lambanog, actually got some good rest. I was able to surf again and witness the sun's magical show. Moments like that remind me that there are so many things to be grateful for. Moments like that make me value my life more. Moments like this remind me that despite the chaos, there are still so many things to be thankful for.

What about you- what have you been thankful for lately?

MORE...

Also read: Liwaliw sa Liwliwa: Womanlalaboy's Travel Guide to Liwliwa, Zambales Also read: Womanlalaboy's Travel Guide To Talisayen Cove, Zambales

#travelogues #womanlalaboy #lublob #liwaliw sa liwliwa #zambales #kapitan's liwa #cosmic pares #kilabot sa liwliwa #mommy phoebe's #circle hostel #circle hostel zambales #villa santos #kila bot #travel #travelph #philippines #pilipinas

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panticwritten · 6 years

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Breaking Furnace - Solitary: Chapter four

Chapter 4: Loathing!

Table of contents!

All of my writing!

I went camping this week, so I ended up not getting this post pre-scheduled again. This shouldn’t happen again, next week it’ll be up 7pm sharp on Friday I swear!

(I’ve had to change quite a bit of formatting to post this on tumblr. If you want to read this chapter with its original formatting, you can do so HERE.)

Remember that this is a daydream taking place in the Escape From Furnace universe, so keep that in mind if you haven’t read EFF.

Word count: 3701

Content warnings for this chapter:

Brainwashing

Feel free to message me if I’m missing any.

Chapter five will be up on August 24th at 7pm PST.

If you like what I do here, maybe consider buying me a Ko-fi or checking out my Patreon! I love being able to put so much out for free, but this would be a great way to show support and also see cool new content!

~-S-~

“If I try shoving nectar in him right now, his body won’t be able to handle it,” I hiss, not looking up.

I know just enough about real biology to know that he’s lucky he survived this far. If Cross will leave me alone long enough to actually find where the problem is, I’ll be able to fix it. Nectar would heal him, but at what cost?

Healing was never my job.

“Who // then?”

“If you don’t, he will die.”

Cross continues piling the bags of nectar on the edge of the stretcher. I’m glad, because it keeps him from responding to my glare at the air over my left shoulder.

I back off. He takes over, hooking an IV to each arm and starting a drip. With a scowl, I watch the darkness flow through the tubes into the boy’s veins.

Immediately, the boy tenses, wrists taut against the leather bindings. His eyes open, wild, and he cries out. Then, he falls limp once again, as if he’d never moved. I flick a glance at Cross, surprised to find a pleased grin on his face. He knows that the most we’ll ever get out of this kid is an offering for Father.

Even so, it really isn’t my call. He’s the boss here, it’s his prison, if he wants to pull that kind of authority. I turn away to return to the infirmary. I should make sure the other two are set up before turning in for the night.

“Perry,” Cross calls.

I stop.

I turn, back straight, eyes on the warden. If he’s going to treat me like a subordinate, I may as well give him the full satisfaction. He doesn’t look at me, inspecting another bag of nectar.

“We have a change of plans. Focus on the inmates in solitary for now, other than your routine checks. I have the infirmary handled.”

“Why?”

I raise an eyebrow, but otherwise remain impassive. I almost turn away again, thinking myself dismissed. Before I can move, however, he continues.

“Seeing as you have a personal interest in the progress of 209, you will choose the group’s full punishment.” He finally looks up, triumph in his eyes. “I will give you your team tomorrow.”

“Good.”

It’s disarming to hear the voice agreeing with me, so I think the command over critically. A peace offering? A punishment? For what? I eye him suspiciously, and I notice a speculative gleam cross his eyes.

There’s more to this.

It really isn’t the time to be arguing with him, though. This is what I wanted, after all.

I nod and turn my back on him. “Thank you, Cross.”

“Be careful who you trust.” the voice whispers, barely audible over the clatter of my shoes on the hard floor. I keep my eyes on the doorway to the infirmary. I consider the punishment for the solitary inmates, but am distracted by the voice repeating itself, louder, more insistently.

“What, I shouldn’t trust my own blood?” I ask as I push into the infirmary, much louder than I intended.

A blacksuit standing in the middle of the room looks up quizzically. I pause, feeling caught, but put on a smooth face and keep walking. I catch him shrug in an ‘it’s-obviously-none-of-my-business’ sort of way. I glance into the cots, relieved to find Arnold and Donovan secure, asleep, and hooked up to their IVs.

I might as well check on my new charges before turning in.

I make my way back to Cross’s office to find the folders still spread across his desk. I flip them open, picking out the three remaining inmates. I turn to leave, but pause when the voice chimes in. Instead, I lean against the desk and wait.

“Zee Hatcher. Prisoner number 2013832. Your cell is D24, fourth level. Cellmate Carlton Jones.”

I glance to the left, curious at its wording. I flip through the file to find 210 penned onto the photo. All of the information is accurate, the same as I read earlier today. The voice continues, and I look away.

“Alexander Sawyer. Prisoner number 2013834. Cell number F11, sixth level. Cellmate Carl Donovan.”

Once again, the information is direct from the file. Number 208. I close the file and slide it behind the others, left with an unmarked manila folder. I frown at it. Maybe I shouldn’t open this one again.

“Connor Sawyer.”

A familiar rush of anger boils in my veins, but I wait, expecting more. It doesn’t say anything else. “Is that it?”

“Not yet.”

Whatever that means.

I open the file, and carefully avoid the boy’s name and the disciplinary information to see what else we have about him.

1009999. D2. Dominic Tchaikovsky.

My brows crease, but I shrug it off. It isn’t exactly strange to grab kids off the street. Nothing but a name to hide behind.

I snort and close the file, pushing off of the desk to leave the room.

By the time I reach the solitary cells and I haven’t heard anything more from the strange voice, I decide that it must have gone for now. I’m almost surprised that there isn’t a guard. They seem to be everywhere, but this corridor is empty.

Escape from the hole is impossible. I can’t think of a way one might break out of them from inside. I gaze at the steel hatches in the ground, a strange sense of deja vu tickling the back of my mind. With a shake of my head, I spin a lever with a thought and swing the hatch open.

I look in and rage immediately whisks my breath from my lungs.

Connor.

Sawyer.

♥️♥️♥️C♥️♥️♥️

I nearly lose my footing when I finally get to see Sawyer without the plastic slats of the infirmary between us. Without Cross here to confuse everything. They’re as healthy as any of the other soldiers in the compound.

Well rested.

Full of nectar.

They freeze when they see me in the hole, their eyes growing visibly darker as their gaze bores into me. Anger. Even with our connection cut off, I catch glimpses of orange and red rising from their shoulders.

They settle on a savage sneer. I don’t know if I should play along—try to reason with them—or not.

“Connor Sawyer,” they say with some struggle. “Prisoner 1009999. You’re a real mystery.”

I ignore their words in favor of brushing the side of their mind.

They stop dead and pinpoint me with an out of character glare before pushing me out so hard I physically stumble back.

Shit.

Fuck.

“S—”

“Shut the hell up, inmate,” they hiss. “You survived here for two years. Now, instead of dying up above, you’ve chosen to hand yourself right over to the warden and I.”

Cross was so confident.

It looks like he has a good reason for it. He has them. With the kind of walls they have up, there’s no getting them back unless they want to.

Their smirk freezes and Virtuoso appears on their hands and knees peering down into my cell. They look harassed.

“I hate to interrupt.” They reach a hand into my cell. “But I have to shut everything down for a little bit.”

I hesitate to take their hand.

“Why?”

They huff, so I humor them. The second our hands touch, something changes. I don’t have to look around to know we’re in the In-Between.

I do, though, on habit. The emptiness is absolute, nothing as far as the eye can see backed by inky black. I look back when they release my hand to find them standing a short distance away and dusting off their knees.

I didn’t know I could come here when I’m awake.

“Follow me. My houseguest wanted to meet you.”

They spin on their heel and strike out into the darkness. With nowhere else to go and nothing else to do, I follow.

Cloying lines of color rise from the floor with every deadened footstep. I watch them lift and dissipate in the near silence. I wonder if I could find my way home from here.

“Oh, there you are.”

I jolt to a stop when an entire scene appears in front of me. A glowing apparition of Sawyer hovers on their back some distance in the air. Two lines, one green and one violet , split the In-Between in two. The violet line sits flat while the green one writhes in time to an indistinct murmur. A soft indigo fog emits from the line as it moves, something different than the usual way the In-Between reacts to sound.

“Get down here,” Virtuoso calls. “This is your one chance to meddle, so make it count.”

The golden figure appears at my side without warning.

“I thought giving me an inch was a slippery slope,” this Sawyer says, peering at me like a predator. They laugh and take a step back into the air. “Good to see you where you can actually hear me.”

I almost ask what they mean, but they flicker into a floating point of light before reappearing and leaning close again. They were the light Virtuoso was arguing with when I first met them. They’re the reason I can even be here right now.

“And it’s certainly causing a lot of trouble,” Virtuoso mutters. “Administrative clearance, my ass.”

“We’ve been stuck in this point in time for weeks,” the copy whispers conspiratorially.

“Why bring me here now?”

“I asked.” They shrug and incline their head toward Virtuoso. “And Virtue here’s kind of freaking out.”

“Don’t call me that,” Virtuoso says without turning around.

The splinter shrugs and drifts up to lay on their back around eye level. They watch me without a word. My skin prickles under their gaze so I hurry to follow Virtuoso turther into the lived in area of the In-Between.

They have several shining screens reminiscent of a sci-fi movie floating in front of them. Most of them carry maps and lines of text. One has a looping clip of Sawyer walking a hallway just next to a capture of them speaking to me in solitary.

“We’ve been lucky so far,” Virtuoso murmurs with their hand tracking an abstract line on a map I can’t make sense of. “I thought I would make the last time memorable.”

If they’re anything like Sawyer, if I don’t say anything they should go on. I watch them trace the map. They make a face after a minute.

They wave their hand and most of the screens disappear along with Sawyer’s voice when the line goes still once again. The one with the lines they were following remains up.

In fact, it balloons so I can see it clearly. It’s a probability map—a huge one.

“Every time that we’ve spoken,” they pause to tap four branches on the screen to make them glow, “has been a risk.”

All of the branches are fairly extensive with different possible paths, but these four make a broken window look linear. The paths branch out and quickly end. Unsustainable, dead.

“Each time I pause to make my changes, I have to make sure you don’t change anything,” they explain. “It wasn’t a problem before. Jess daydreamed half of the first book over the course of three days so I was too busy to do anything out of real-time.”

“But now they’re running out of steam.” I say with a flat voice. “Losing focus. Slowing down.”

They nod.

“I have the time, but now pausing things brings new problems.”

I lean close to the screen to read the different branches. The ones we’ve followed are all labelled ‘contact’ surrounded by several others with the same label. The others have some variation of ‘discovered’ and ‘undiscovered.’

I reach out, surprised when a touch to the first time we spoke outside of the In-Between zooms it in to that point in time. A few of the other paths reach pretty far, and I wonder how they chose between them. How they decided which path to take.

Hang on.

“You’ve been distracting me.” They have the grace to look distraught when I turn to them instead of the map. “So I wouldn’t go wandering off while everything’s paused!”

“It was the safest option. With how often I have to turn everything off to course correct—”

“You could just said, ‘hey, don’t move when everything pauses.’ I can follow directions, you know?” I manage not to raise my voice, but it’s a struggle. “That’s literally what I do.”

“The bad endings where I leave you alone are far worse than the ones I risked when I spoke to you,” they say between gritted teeth. “I’m fixing the mistake I made when I gave you clearance now, anyway.”

What?

“We came to an agreement.”

I spin around to find the splinter of Sawyer hovering in the air and smiling far too wide just a few inches from my face. I shuffle back, but have to stop when the screen tries to phase through my back. The splinter simply follows me, so I might as well not try.

“What kind of agreement?”

“It took both of us to change the settings and allow this to happen.” Virtuoso grabs the splinter by the scruff and tugs them back. The way they settle back to the floor with a huff tells me it’s not the first time this has happened. “They begged me to allow you in the In-Between, I gave permission.”

“Now they’re begging me to let them fix it.” The splinter shrugs. “But I’m so bored, stuck in here.”

“You agreed,” Virtuoso snaps.

“I agreed, that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

“I gave you every chance to change the terms.” Virtuoso turns to the splinter and scowls.

“You vetoed every idea I had!” The splinter lifts its hands in a lazy show of frustration. “I barely had any input by the time I said yes—”

“To what?” I cut in again. I wonder how long they’ve been having these circular arguments around here.

They both look at me as if they forgot I was here.

“You’ll come here whenever V pauses your world,” the splinter explains, lifting their feet into the air. Virtuoso shoves them off course at another shortening of their name. “Keep you from going anywhere and let me see you every once in a while.”

They smile and force me to remember that they really are just another piece of Sawyer.

“And you won’t remember anything once the setting goes into affect,” Virtuoso adds with a glare still pointed at the splinter. “Not until you leave the universe permanently.”

Until I die. Until I have to return to the Cube.

“To make fewer bad endings on the map?” I confirm.

They both nod. I sigh.

The safest option.

“Do you need my permission to change the rules, or whatever?”

“No.” Virtuoso purses their lips.

“We don’t need it,” the splinter says. They crowd close again, and this time I don’t shy away. It sounds like they haven’t actually talked to anyone but Virtuoso in a while. “But I wanted to ask for it first.”

How considerate.

I won’t be able to rely on them stopping things at an opportune moment. I can’t hope for them to tell me things. I’ll be on my own again, but isn’t that how I expected to do this from the beginning?

“Fine,” I say after a moment.

The splinter grins.

“Perfect.”

“Your history doesn’t matter.”

Light shocks my eyes when I reappear in the hole. I blink a few times, and I’m probably lucky that Sawyer isn’t actually looking at me. They look, instead, at a file in their hand.

Damn, I should have asked about them while I could still talk to Virtuoso.

Sawyer flips the file shut and turns away. “Stew in the hole for a month. You’ll welcome what comes next by then, if you still have a mind to see it with.”

The door to the cell falls closed and leaves me in darkness again before I’ve truly recovered from the transition back into normal time. I’m back in the universe, and I’m not leaving again until I have no choice but to leave.

At least, I won’t remember it.

~-S-~

“Is that it?”

I survey the suits assigned to me. Two soldiers, waiting outside of Cross’s office. They seem capable, and two will be more than enough to watch four inmates.

My brother stands beside them, eyes on me. I nod and turn back into the office. The suits remain in place, waiting. Cross follows me, simply oozing triumph. The situation upstairs is taken care of, and all of the escapees are either dead or secure.

“You’re troubled?”

I stop in the middle of the office and turn, watching him settle behind his desk. I don’t answer immediately, and I begin to feel fingers of nectar poking at my thoughts.

“Quit that,” I mutter, shaking my head. Cross shrugs, and I avert my eyes. “I think I know the inmates in solitary. All three of them.”

He doesn’t say anything. He watches me intently from behind steepled fingers. I force myself to look at him directly, even if I can’t quite meet his gaze head on.

“I don’t know how, but they’re all so familiar. They must have been...” I trail off. Cross inclines his head, waiting for me to continue. I shake my head again, and there’s a tangible sense of disappointment from the presence of the voice. “It doesn’t matter. The sooner they’re converted, the better.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

It was a test.

I shouldn’t be surprised. Testing the bounds of loyalty has been his job since the prison opened. It would make me an idiot to believe he wouldn’t push me, too. Still, something about this seems strange.

“You’re right.”

“Is there anything else you aren’t telling me?”

I steel myself, force myself to look at him, and shake my head. Fingers of nectar once again push into my thoughts. I wait for him to find out about the voice, but a fog overtakes both my own thoughts and Cross’s search. Without meaning to, I shove them both out.

For a moment, I stand in shock, still staring at the floor. That wasn’t supposed to happen. I don’t look at him, but that doesn’t keep the ominous weight of the room from growing. It pushes in on me, and I can’t breathe. Something in the back of my mind tells me to run, but I bite it back.

Then it’s gone.

I look up, at the growing anger in his eyes. That really wasn’t supposed to happen. With a sharp inhale, I straighten up.

“There’s nothing that I can’t handle on my own,” I say, subdued. He raises his eyebrows. I have to rally myself before I continue, and I sound much more assured when I do. “Everything’s under control.”

“It is, isn’t it?” He gazes at me, his anger twisting into a surprising delight. Though I don’t expect his geniality, I nod. He chuckles. “Give your soldiers their orders and meet me in the training complex.”

It’s a dismissal, obviously, but I wait a moment before leaving. I watch him turn and walk back to his desk. He reaches for the phone, but pauses and glances at the door. I avert my eyes and head out.

The suits cut off their conversation and straighten up. I turn on my way to solitary, waving them along after me. I start relaying them the general schedule but I’m still distracted—I mean, what the hell just happened?

I shut Cross out when he asked me a direct question.

That should have sent me to a screening room, maybe even a hole of my own. Instead, he actually laughed about it and decided to train with me. It isn’t like him to give special treatment.

If anything, he used to be so much harsher on me than anyone else.

“You should be careful.”

Yes, thank you, please shut the fuck up.

I lose my train of thought and dismiss my soldiers to the hole. They’ll be fine, they’ve been here long enough to know how this works.

“Of course. We can talk about this later.”

Cheeky bastard, I think, almost surprised to find it responding to my thoughts.

I split from the suits at the infirmary, still considering it. I stop in the middle of the room and look up at a low groan from one of the cots. I peer through the curtain to see another of the escapees strapped to the bed, a bag of second-rate nectar feeding into his bloodstream.

“Kevin.”

I thought you were going to leave. I step closer, sliding the curtain closed behind me.

“Sorry.”

I start to sit and a chair appears under me. The boy’s eyes squint tighter shut, then they open. He struggles against the binding, but stops when he sees me. The nectar’s fog clears from his eyes and I can feel relief washing over him.

“Thank god. Get me the hell out of here, Perry.”

I blink at him. He isn’t looking at me anymore, focused on the leather straps around his wrists and ankles. I don’t know much about this particular inmate, other than the fights we’ve seen on the screens. I stand and slip out of the cubicle, returning in seconds with a syringe of Cross’s new nectar.

“Everything will be fine,” I murmur, stopping at the side of his bed.

“Whatchu doing?” I glance up to see him staring in shock. He pulls harder against the bindings, his voice now panicked. “S’no way you really went dark side.”

“We’re both where we belong,” I say with a smile. I inject a tiny amount of the blue nectar into his IV feed. “Haven’t you always wanted to be able to fight back? You’ll be able to, with our help.”

When I look back at him, the nectar has already knocked him out. He won’t remember this when he wakes up. I watch him, brow furrowed. An uneasy feeling tickles the back of my mind.

He thought I was going to let him go.

I shake my head and turn to leave, finding Cross watching me from the door to the deeper tunnels. I catch his grin as he turns away and pushes through the plastic slats. I drop the empty syringe on a tray and follow him.

#writing #madd #maddart #my writing #bf #bf writing and info #everyones kind of having a bad time

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mecatchingraindrops · 6 years

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Play Underground 2

Disclaimer: events may or may not have happened. Names are fictional. Any resemblance or similarities to people in real life is purely coincidental.

—Foreword—

The vigor of youth transcends as every sweat trickles down your body in the heat of the afternoon sun. The eyes open up possibilities in multitudes, however, fate only chooses one that will shape you as a person. For love, lust, and mind can play with your heart relentlessly, spinning the wheel of fortune that binds your fates together from the moment of your first hello, to your last goodbye.

——

“What have I gotten myself into?”

I asked myself as I brave the most difficult course of Play Underground’s wall climbing facility. Just last week, we finally completed the intermediate area, of course, after falling several times. Ok, thousands of times. Now we took on our new found friends and the challenge that faced us: completing the most difficult wall.

A few minutes earlier we started our stretching and began climbing the beginners wall as warm up. I was in a strange yet familiar high as I felt anxious to prove to these newcomers who owns these walls.

When it was finally my turn I suddenly felt like I could easily finish it in half the time I usually spend reaching for the top. My veins were filled with energy I have not felt before as adrenaline pumped in large quantities resulting from anxiousness, excitement, and the usual bravado facing rivals on one’s turf. Not to mention the Venti Frappe Affogato I had earlier.

Then it happened. I missed a rock and slipped. ON THE BEGINNERS’ COURSE. And I say that with emphasis.

Adrian wasn’t really paying attention as my belayer and was on his phone more agitated than I am as I climbed up so without any resistance, I fell down with a thud. I imagined myself falling with a scream or wailing, but no. My fall was a no nonsense fall. Let’s get it over with so ground, here I come!

What I saw next would haunt me relentlessly in the weeks to come. They were the most beautiful brown eyes only an angel could possess. With hair damp from sweat, his bangs swaying side to side. His white shirt plastered on his muscled body. Wet but warm. I thought he would smell disgusting like those locker rooms in the gym filled with soiled undergarments but instead, he smelled of... Issey Miyake.

“Damien!”

Adrian’s voice brought me back to my senses. It also brought in the pain on my butt as it started to radiate.

“Ow” was the first thing I said as the angel’s strong arms helped me sit up right.

“Ow” I said again as I got steadied into place.

“I think I broke something” I said under my breath while trying to feel my butt.

“Hopefully not your heart” the angel said smirking.

“What?” I thought to myself, contemplating if I actually heard those words or was imagining everything. Wait. What angel would say something as cheesy as that? He’s definitely from hell.

“I’m Kyle” he introduced “this is Paul my best friend”

“Damien” I replied trying to get up to shake their hands but I slipped on the wet mat. I started to wonder where it came from. Was it sweat? But I asked myself how clumsy can one be to slip twice within a minute. Luckily My best friend caught me this time.

“Oh, this is Adrian. The great belayer” I said with annoyance and sarcasm.

“I’m so sorry. I thought you got this since we finished intermediate last time and mom sent me an sms so I had to get back at her. So soooo sorry....” Adrian rambled on as I spaced out and murmured

“I am never gonna do this with you again”, then I punched him lightly on his right arm.

Kyle laughed again. While Paul now threw a jab at his side trying not to laugh.

“I wanna die” I thought to myself.

This is so embarrassing. On the way here I thought Kyle and Paul were amateurs but they’re already on the most difficult wall. Paul would’ve reached midway till he saw me fall and got down as his belayer came to my side. And here I am, slipping and falling from the beginner’s course. Then I remembered Kyle saying something and asked him in a naïveté way, “you said something earlier. After I said I broke something. Wha...”

He cut me off and continued “hopefully not your heart?” He tried and failed miserably to stifle his laughter. “You see, you fell... hopefully not with a broken heart..” then he couldn’t contain his eminent laughter.

Not an Angel. Yeah, probably the devil’s first born. Just my luck. That’s what I thought and I think I looked annoyed cause Paul took another jab at Kyle. “I’m sorry, Kyle can be a bit... cheesy...and...”

“..And corny” I added with utter annoyance as I rolled my eyes instinctively.

Two seconds of silence arose. The longest two seconds of my life. I began to overthink if I might’ve offended the cute devil, and what they will think, say or do. I thought, should I laugh halfheartedly, as I tried to sense the air for the mood. And as if on cue, all three started to laugh.

“Tryna be funny and clumsy at the same time huh?” Kyle retorted as his laughter died down.

Standing up, I realized the angel is really just a cherub. A cherub on steroids. Well not really that buff but toned. A midget of an angel was my exact words in my head. Maybe he is half angel and half demon. I wonder.

Kyle is kinda short, he can pass as 15 or 16, while Paul his best friend is almost as tall as I am which stands 5’8. Kyle seems almost like 5’5. Shorter than my best friend Adrian who stands at 5’7. I found out later they were three years older than I am.

“Isn’t this wall to tall for you shorty” I blurted out trying to get even without thinking and realized I might’ve gone overboard so I covered my mouth hastily.

“Hey! I never said anything about you falling from the beginners wall! That’s below the belt!” he mouthed off before pouting. The cutest pout I’ve seen. It was too sincere to not be not adorable. Then Paul and Adrian laughed at us like parents seeing their kids argue about childish stuff. Kyle and I looked at each other and joined them as well.

Adrian decided to get the four of us something to drink. While Kyle, Paul, and I chatted about random topics. I then started to notice Paul. He’s also good looking but not as ripped as Kyle. He seems kinder too while Kyle seems a bit on the wilder side. Like he is the life of any party he goes to, exuding with confidence at every stride his ripped muscles make as they flex and relax. It was like a dance. A ballet of muscles of some sort that is too beautiful to describe with words alone. Yet Paul’s smile overflowed with sincerity and warmth, it seems the pain of my earlier fall seem to fade into the bright light of his perfectly white teeth. A shining beacon for any dentist...

I found out that Paul was getting fond of me as I happen to remind him of his younger brother. Kyle agreed and even told me that Paul’s brother and I share the same reaction when being teased. He also noted that we both have an air of sarcasm. The sarcasms yes, but I didn’t know I blushed a lot. Now everytime Kyle opens his mouth and tries to mess around with me, Paul kept on pointing it out. But sometimes, I feel my face grow hot just looking at Kyle. Or when I hear him talk annoyingly.

After resting a bit, all four of us shared an inexplicable bond new friends have during these years. Like we clicked immediately and seemed destined to be bestfriends.

We then decided to climb walls again. Adrian being the naughty bestfriend suggested we switch partners. It took me a minute to realize he has the hots for Paul. As always, he was brazen enough to strategize this situation to his advantage.

So, to my surprise, I was paired with Kyle as Adrian tried his luck with Paul.

Kyle offered “you go first. Don’t fall this time”, looking stern and at the same time trying to contain his laughter. He still can’t get the knack of embarrassing me. (I mean hey, I am cute when I want to be lol).

Wittingly, I replied, “If I do, will you catch me?” And gave him a coy look.

Shit. Was that too much? What was I thinking? He doesn’t even know I’m gay, I think. He is straight. Appears to be at the very least. What if he was a homophobe? Are there homophobes in Manila? I was beginning to space out and recall my experience with homophobes in Vermont when I noticed Kyle still unable to move even a single muscle. Oh those muscles. How hard and soft they must have felt... Focus god damn it Damien! Homophobes!

But the look of shock on his face was enough to bring me back to reality and snap me out of my internal monologue with lasted one second. It was utter disbelief which made me switch gears and burst with laughter. A perfect excuse. We Filipinos love to joke around so I’ll tread that path and see where it goes.

He then got the “joke” and looked annoyed. But what surprised me is that he started to blush and hide his eyes behind his beautiful jet black hair.

The next words that escaped from his lips gave me the feeling I’ve never felt in a long time. Those words that was only for me. Those words that nobody else heard. Not the children screaming at each other, nor their parents mindless watching over them, nor the staff busy overseeing everyone’s safety. Not even our two best friends trying to out do each other with one showing off on the wall while the other giving out directions on how to better climb it. It’s as if the whole powerplant mall fell into a perpetual silence that only Kyle’s voice emanated in my ear drums, trying to sync with the sound of my heartbeat that goes faster and faster as every second ticks and tocks. He spoke, no, whispered as he turned and tied the rope to the anchorage on the floor.

“I’m more than capable... of catching you”

#story of damien #love #boy to boy #college romance #college

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cheekymonkeysph · 1 month

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smutbangtan · 7 years

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Office Files - Chapter 2 “Case File”

Word Count: 5,174

Summary: You are a lawyer at a major company. You’ve been given the responsibility to oversee an intern.

Paring: Reader x Jimin x Namjoon x Jungkook

Genre: Smut

When Jimin walked into your office, he was expecting some 50 year old woman stomping around and angrily talking on her phone. But that wasn't what he saw at all. Instead, he saw a woman in her later 20's dressed in sleek office wear and heels which shouted money. Your hair draped off one shoulder like silk curtains. He wasn't going to let your soft features fool him. From what he's heard, you're dangerous and not the person to cross over. He mentally prepared himself, and knew that if he really wanted a place in this company, he's going to work hard. Even harder, knowing now that you're his boss now. He had to ooze confidence and knowledge.

"Ice Queen" He thought.

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There was a moment of silence between you and Jimin, as both of you stood there inside your office. Jimin hesitated a little and started drumming his fingers on his side, not entirely sure what to say or even do. You stared at him, eyeing him down then letting out a sigh. You were given an intern in the last minute, and you had no idea what to do with him. You could make him do a paper run, possibly a lunch run and do orders for everyone in the office? You thought. There was knock on your door that broke the silence and both of you turned to see who it was.

"Come in" You said.

Katy opened the door a little and popped her head in with a small smile. She looked over at Jimin then at you again. Jimin smiled at her a little, remembering her from earlier. At least he knew a familiar face.

"I have your coffee here Ms Y/N"

"Oh yes, thank you for that." You walked past Jimin and grabbed the coffee off her with a nod. You closed the door when Katy left then you turned around, looking over at your files piled on your desk. An idea popped into your mind. This entire time Jimin was shitting bricks. He didn't know what you had in store for him, and he had a small feeling that he might end up being the paper boy, and doing small errands around the office instead of taking in real cases. He understood that one must to start from the bottom and work to the top, if you assigned him to be a errand boy, so be it.

"What do you know about the Carter case?" You asked him softly after taking a sip of your coffee, eyeing him above the curve of your cup. His right hand moved out of his pocket then scratched the back of his neck, with a slight frown as though trying to remember something.

"Oh, I believe it's about an apartment complex dispute and a community hub?" He looked over at you, unsure of his answer. You lifted a brow, impressed by his answer. I guess he's not that stupid after all.

You took a few steps to your desk and lifted one of the three files that you had to complete. Without looking at him, you stretched out your hand with the file and expected him to walk over and take it as you spoke.

"You're in charge of the case. Go through the dispute and paper work and tell me if you find any inconsistencies. There's a few contacts in there that you might need to speak to in case you need further information. Tell them you speak on behalf of me."

Jimin's eyes widened a little, and felt a little excited but he kept it all hidden under his cool demeanor. He stepped forward and took the file, opening the manila folder and scanning through the documents. You turned and looked at him once more.

"I wasn't told that I will be taking in a intern until 5 minutes ago." You said bluntly.

"Tell me what you find, you'll have until 4pm today to complete it. I need it ready by tomorrow" You added.

Jimin nodded "I'll get it done." Ran his fingers through his hair.

He then asked "Have I been assigned a desk?" shutting the folder and holding it to his side.

You lifted a finger at him, as though you just remembered something then leaned back to press the red button on your desk phone. "Katy could you please come here" Seconds later, Katy walked in with a paper and note pad expecting to take notes. You set the coffee cup down pointed at Jimin "Could you find Mr Park a desk, and preferably a place where I can keep an eye on him" You added. When Jimin heard this, he pursed his lips. He wasn't going to be intimidated he reminded himself.

Katy smiled and wriggled her fingers at Jimin with a silent 'hello'. Jimin smiled at her softly and nodded in return. "Sure thing, I'll find a desk" Katy motioned Jimin to follow behind her. When they both left you sighed then headed back towards you desk and sat down. Without another word, or contemplation you began working.

____________________________

When Katy and Jimin left your office, Katy looked over her shoulder at Jimin and smiled while he followed.

"I see you haven't pissed your pants yet." Katy giggled. Jimin chuckled at her words then ran his hand through his hair again. A nervous tick. "I seriously thought she was some old lady with a temper" Katy stopped at an empty desk with a few basic stationary that was only metres away from your office and her own. It was a plain cubicle with a phone, chair and a computer.

"Everyone thinks that before they meet her" She added with a smile. Katy waved her hand, indicating the desk before them.

"You can sit here, lf you need anything I'm just over there" she point to her area. Jimin followed her gaze and saw her desk, he then looked behind him and saw your office. His back would be facing you where he worked. He watched you type away on your laptop, sipping on your coffee and looking over your folders.

"Thank's I'll definitely need your help if I don't know how things run around here" He added then looked back at Katy with a sheepish smile, his eyes turning to half moons.

"Katy, right? I'm Jimin" he reached his hand out. Katy shook it with a smile, her cheeks flushing with pink.

When Katy returned to her work station, Jimin dropped the folder on the desk and sat down. He eagerly started reading through the documents, taking a pen and sticky note that was provided on his desk and started jotting down notes and placing them in various sections.

_____________________________________________________________________________

A few hours had already passed and you were almost completed with one of the files. You had called back to those who left messages and arranged a few more meetings. You slowly stopped typing and saved a final document you were working on. As you leaned back on your chair and looked over to your right. Through your glass office wall, you could see the back of Jimin. He had already taken off his blazer and placed it at the back of his hair. He ran his fingers through his dark red hair then continued typing, and writing into the folder you gave him. Does he even know what he's doing?

The file needed to be completed for a meeting tomorrow and you couldn't entirely rely on a intern to do everything. What he fucked it up? Or he's just pretending that he's working? You were about to buzz in Katy, but your desk phone rang. You looked down at the I.D call and knew who it was. You picked up the phone then leaned back on your chair again, relaxing into the leather.

"Yes?" You said bluntly. You could hear Namjoon chuckle on the other end of the phone. You were still upset about the whole intern ordeal.

"I see you're still pissed?" said Namjoon, you could practically see the grin on his face. He then continued.

"What are you making the poor kid do? Massage you're feet? Oh wait! You turned him into a paper boy! " He laughed. You rolled your eyes at his comment, not falling for his stupid charms like you used too.

"He's working on the Carter case." You cut off Namjoon, before he added another one of his jokes. There was silence and he spoke in all seriousness.

"Are you serious?" He asked. He could hear him shifting in his chair a little. "Shit, you threw him into the deep end. Generally an intern doesn't take a case until 3 months in. I'm making mine do lunch and coffee orders" He ended with an amused tone. You weren't impressed. You turned on your chair and faced Jimin. You saw the back of him, watching him work away.

"I know, but I decided he could take it on. I see it as a test. If he pulls through, it means he's actually worthy of being here. For now anyway. Besides, you're the one who through this shit on me so I can do anything I like. Bend the rules a bit." You added the last part with a grin.

"I'll meet you at 9 tomorrow, bring your intern to the case meeting. I'll bring mine." said Namjoon. He felt a little bad now, knowing that you had made your intern actually do 'work' while he made his do remedial tasks. You hung up after he spoke. If the conversation continued any longer, you knew that he'll start a casual conversation which may lead to dirty talk. You didn't want to deal with that right now.

You pressed the red button. "Katy could you please call Mr. Park into my office. And tell him to bring his work." You ended the call. Thankfully you're office walls was glass, so you could practically see if people were wasted time. You shifted your gaze to Katy and saw how she called out Jimin. You watched how his red head moved up, looking at Katy then his shoulders stiffening. He shuffled his papers then stood up. It was like watching a silent movie playing before you.

______________________________________________________________________________

Jimin was halfway done going through the documents. He heard his name get called out and he looked over in Katy's direction. He lifted his brows, looking a little surprised.

"Miss Y/N wants to see you Jimin" Katy said from across the room. Jimin swallowed hard. Did you expect him to finish already? You did say that he had till 4 pm. Unless this was some kind of test? He hesitated then asked Katy

"Did she tell you why?"Asked Jimin, sounding a little worried than he wanted it.

"No, I'm sure it's fine though!. Oh excuse me I need to take this call!" Katy smiled at Jimin, then took the call quickly.

He shuffled his papers into the folder then stood up. Pushing his chair into his desk. He looked a little disheveled than this morning. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms and his hair a little more ruffled. He walked casually towards your office, hoping you wouldn't hear his heart beating so fast from feeling nervous.

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You turned in your chair before he caught you watching him, and you looked back at your laptop. He entered into your office carefully and closed the door behind him. You motioned your hand to the chair in front of your desk, asking him to sit down.

"Please take a seat. I called you in too see how you were going. I'm heading to a meeting and won't return till 4 to collect your work" you smiled briefly then waited for him to sit.

"Oh okay, sure. I looked over some of the documents and called some of the land owners to confirm a few of the statements. I did find at least 3 inconsistencies so far. They have sticky notes next to them." Said Jimin formally as he sat down. He handed you the file and leaned back, rubbing his hands on his thighs a little nervously. He felt as though he was in the principal's office, reporting on his good behavior.

You hummed in response and took the file. You opened the manila folder and scanned through each of the edited documents by Jimin. He scribbled a few things here and there, but the sticky notes is what you wanted to read. You read each note carefully. There was silence in the room.

Fuck, he's really good. You thought to yourself. You lifted your eyes at him for a moment, then continued reading his notes. He was able to find the building contract code law and it's flaw in the document. Interesting.

You closed the folder then handed it back to him. He took it suddenly, and paused for a moment expecting you to say something about his work. Your gaze moved to this Adams apple and saw it bob slightly. Sure, you found him extremely attractive. But you had no intentions of pursuing him. Attractive guys like him are dangerous. You leant your lesson from dating Namjoon.

"You're lunch break starts at 12, and you have an hour break. Use it wisely. I'll see you at 4pm Mr Park." You moved your attention back to your laptop and continued typing.

"Er.. okay. I'll see you then." Jimin stood up, and paused for a moment wanting to ask something about the work that he did. He assumed, if he's doing something wrong then you would've said something by now. Instead he turned and headed out the door and headed to Katy's desk first. Your eyes followed him, then at Katy. You watched him exchange a few words with her. Even though you only saw the back of Jimin, you could see Katy's face. She was smiling like always. Remembering that you head to send a few more emails before leaving, you resumed working.

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Jimin left your office and felt a whole weight lift off his shoulders when he existed. He wasn't sure if he was relieved from leaving your presence or that he's on the right track. Jimin however never recalled you mentioning if he was. He sighed then headed towards Katy.

"Is she always like that?" asked Jimin. He arched a brow, crossing his arms over his chest with the file in his hand. Katy pulled down her headset, and laughed at Jimin. She looked up at him and grinned.

"Yep! She has her good and bad days. Today is a good day." Katy watched Jimin, admiring his body and his red hair. Katy knew that he will be eye candy for everyone in this department. She can't wait to speak to the other girls during lunch about him.

"Wait! This is a good day?" His eyes widened, looking surprised. "I'd hate to know what a bad day looks like. Jesus christ!" His joke made Katy laugh a little too loud. He chuckled at her response then lifted his file "Better get to work then!" They both resumed working silently from across the room.

__________________________________________________________________________

You reached over and grabbed your bag. Ensuring you had everything and your file. You stood up and walked out your door. Passing Katy and Jimin, you spoke to her "If I get any calls please tell them that I'll call them back tomorrow. If it's urgent, call my phone. No interruptions otherwise"

Katy nodded and saluted you with a smile. "Sure thing!"

You added "I'll be back at 4" You passed the cubicles and desks then left the department with the sound of your heels disappearing.

Jimin looked up from his desk and watched you leave. He shifted his gaze to Katy and they both made eye contact he then watched you again, till you left the double glass doors. He noticed how everyone on the floor changed their demeanor and the vibe of the department changed. People started to talk a little more loudly about useless things. Another worker, standing up with his phone and claiming he got a date from the girl he likes from down the road to a friend across the room. He grinned to himself and knew that he will definitely enjoy being here despite the fact that your his boss.

____________________________________________________________________________

It was lunch break and Jimin decided to use half of it to do more work. Once it was 12:30, he headed to the staff room which was explained by Katy before she hurriedly met up with a group of ladies down the hall for lunch. The staff room had a full furnished kitchen and lounges and tables. Majority of the workers usually eat outside of the building at neighboring cafe's or restaurants. Jimin walked into the staff room and saw the two other interns he met early that morning. The two guys turned and recognized him. Jungkook lifted his hand and motioned him to come over to sit with them.

"Hey man! Surprised you haven't been fired yet by Ice Queen!" laughed Jungkook. He quickly reached over and checked Jimn's wrist. Jimin arched a brow at, wondering what he's doing. "Nope! he's still human" said Jungkook with a grin. Jimin chuckled at Jungkook's lame joke and pulled out a chair and sat with Hoseok and Jungkook.

"How's your day been so far?" asked Jimin. He didn't feel that hungry, he was still buzzed over the fact that he was given a case on his first day. He'll buy something on his way home.

Hoseok was on his phone then he set it down, with a soft smile looking over at Jimin "It's been okay, I've been doing a few odd jobs here and there. Nothing interesting though" Jungkook groaned after hearing Hoseok's response and replied to Jimin with an annoyed look.

"It's fucking stupid. I've taking coffee and lunch orders all day. I had one guy getting pissed at me because I forgot he wanted soy milk in his coffee. Are you fucking serious? I mean I know as an intern it doesn't start very nice but..shit. Namjoon seems like he's all cool, but really he's an ass"

Jimin paused for a moment, listening to Hoseok and Jungkook's responses, but wasn't too sure he should say what he's been up too, feeling a little guilty. He leaned back on his chair and sighed.

Hoseok turned to Jimin "What about you?, what have you been up to today?"

Jimin grinned, his eyes creasing a little. "I've been working on a case"

"WHAT?!!?" Hoseok and Jungkook said in unison, then looked at each other completely shocked.

"What the fuck!? How is that possible?" asked Jungkook, looking extremely frustrated now then flicking hair off his eyes. He leaned back and slipped his hands back onto his pockets, clenching his fists. Jimin shrugged at Hoseok and Jimin then continued talking.

"I don't know, she just decided to give me a case. I have until 4pm today to complete it. She needs it tomorrow for a meeting I think" There was silence between the three of them for a moment then Jimin continued.

"She's not as bad as I thought though." he added. He wasn't sure what he meant by that.

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It was 4pm and you still hadn't arrived yet. Jimin shuffled his papers and adjusted the folder neatly while he waited for you. He remembered that you didn't want to be disturbed, so he couldn't ask Katy to call you. He thought about leaving the folder on your desk and going home, but what if you didn't like his work? What if he needed to add a few more things? which would result in him staying back longer. He looked around the office floor and it was already empty. Katy had already gone home, and only other person in the area was the cleaning guy who was vacuuming a meeting room. He groaned loudly and leaned back on his chair, ignoring his rumbling stomach. Jimin leaned forward again, ran his hand through his hair with a sigh before reading through his notes for the millionth time. Moments later he could hear your heels in the distance, slowly becoming louder and louder as you approached the department. You pushed the glass door and headed straight to your office. Jimin immediately saw you and stood up, shuffling the papers back into the folder. As you passed him, you spoke.

"Mr Park, please follow me" You said softly, then entered into your office. Jimin followed closely behind and in time opened the door for you. You passed him and walked towards your desk, setting down your cloak and bag then turned towards him. You reached out your hand, expecting the folder to be given which it was instantly and you opened it to read. You both stood in the centre of your office in silence. You scanned passed his previous annotations then read through the other documents and his notes placed in different sections. You didn't have to read all of it, cause you knew that this particular intern knew exactly what he was doing. The previous ones you had were either useless or clueless about this company. However Park Jimin, was different.

You closed the file and looked at him for a moment, and placed the file down behind you. Jimin stood there with his hands in his pocket's waiting for your response.

"Good, it seems like you know what you're doing." you nodded at him.

"Oh thanks!" Jimin smiled, rocking back and forth on his heels briefly. He continued "In that third contract, I knew there was something odd and when I read through it closely. It did seem dodgy. Whoever this construction company is, they seems quite shady."

"Indeed, thank you for pin pointing it" You crossed your arms "And apologies for being late Mr. Park." Jimin lifted his hand and motioned it as a 'don't worry about it' gesture

After speaking, you walked around to your desk and sat down, turning on your laptop to resume work. "You can leave" You said without looking at him. Jimin looked out of your office at the empty depatment then back at you with an arched brow.

"Wait, you're not leaving?" Looking at little confused. He knew that people generally stay back to complete work however, you were the manager. You could leave at any time if you wanted too. Hearing Jimin's words you looked up at him feeling a little amused.

"It's nice to know that you're concerned about my wellbeing Mr Park. " You grinned. Jimin blinked, seeing how your facial expression changed from a cold stone face to something as bright as sunshine.

"Call me Jimin" He smirked back.

"You can leave now... Jimin" you added then resumed typing away on your laptop. Without another word, Jimin left your office. He felt a little more relaxed knowing that he had done a good job to impress you.

______________________________________________________________________________

Next Day

Namjoon casually walked into your office, and found you standing there reading into the file that will be used at today's client meeting. He admired the way you looked so elegant but authoritative at the same time. You were leaning back against your desk, with your legs crossed at your ankles. He licked his lips then walked over to your side. He knew you were ignoring him, and he loved it. Namjoon leaned down and peeked over the file, seeing a few annotations and notes placed here and there. He knew instantly that it wasn't your handwriting.

"Ready?" He asked, moving his face a little too close. You hummed in response "Give me a few more minutes." You added. You scanned the documents a few more times, and reading Jimin's notes that was extremely useful. Because of Namjoon's height, he towered over you. He wore all black suit with red sleeve shirt inside and his hair combed to the side in that specific style. He knew that dark tailored suits was your thing. He reached over your desk and pressed a pressed a button. Immediately the glass walls of your office frosted and the doors locked. From the outside, people could only see blurred shadows but no distinctive features or shapes.

You instantly heard the click and looked up from the file to see Namjoon standing in front of you with a grin. You watched as he licked his lower lip slowly and stepped forward again, his chest pressing against the file you were holding in front of you. Using his longer slender fingers he slowly pulled the file away from your hands and closed it shut then setting it the side of you.

"What do you think you're doing?" You asked with a quirked brow.

"Oh nothing.." He replied with a cocky tone. He placed a finger on to your collar bone then traced it down the shape of your left breast and towards your stomach. You eyed his slender as it made its way down towards your shirt. Y

Even though things didn't work out, there still was sexual tension between the two of you. You had no one else in your life right now and Namjoon was the closest thing you had to a booty call.

Your lips parted at the feel of his hand tracing up your inner thigh. You let out a sigh of relief, the feel of a hand so close to your centre and the touch so intimate. Namjoon watched your facial expression, changing from nothing to pure relief. Instinctively you reached back behind and clenched the edge of your desk with white knuckles. You didn't want to look at him, you didn't want to see his splendid face so you tilted your head back, exposing the length of your neck.

Namjoon's leaned forward and placed his free hand on the desk beside you, supporting his own weight. Your bodies so close. His head leaned into the corner of your shoulder and neck, wanting you to feel his hot breath. His fingers brushed the outer edge of your panties, then with a finger he traced the line of your folds.

"Remember when we used to do this, almost every morning?" He breathed over your skin with a grin.

"Do you miss it?" You asked softly then licking your lower lip, loving the feel of his finger over your hot core.

He didn't plant a kiss or brush his face onto your neck, he wanted to make you melt just by his finger alone. After hearing your words, he rubbed over your clothed clit very slowly in a circle as he spoke.

"I might, do you miss me?" Namjoon moved his head back a little too look at your face closely. He was addicted to you, like a user addicted to ice. He knew that things were meant to be back to normal, but he just could help himself.

You opened your mouth, about to reply but a voice was heard from your office phone. It was Katy.

"Mr Namjoon and Miss Y/N, your interns are here to see you" You immediately open your eyes and pushed Namjoon's hand away from between your legs and stood straight. You started adjusting your skirt a little and your hair. Namjoon 'tsk' in disappointment at the interruption and moved away, picking up your file and opening it to read but not really paying attention to whatever was in the there. You cleared your throat then reached over, pressing the button again to respond.

"Okay, thank you Katy" With another push of a button, the door was unlocked and the walls became transparent again. Namjoon had already made his way to the door with the file in his hand and opened it for the interns to enter.

"Please come in!" Namjoon said brightly, patting Jungkook on the back and a slight wave to Jimin who stood next to him. When Jimin looked at you, something was off. He could tell by the way you shifted your eyes away from the pair walking in. He also noticed a small flush of pink over your cheeks, but he didn't pay much mind to it.

Jungkook looked around the office, impressed by the furnishing and the view. His dark eyes move over and saw you standing across from him. He scanned you and your attire and immediately he was drawn in. In his eyes, you were the meaning of pure sexiness. He licked his lips nervously.

"Ah, Jungkook this is Y/N" said Namjoon formally, but noticed how his intern watched you. Namjoon knows that look. As a man himself, he knows when a guy is thinking dirty thoughts. You hadn't paid mind to the other intern just yet as you were too busy finding your phone for the client meeting. You briefly smiled at the young man and took his hand.

"Hello Mr Jeon" You said formally. With the same hand you moved it towards Jimin who stood there with a small smile on his face, happy to be in the room.

"Namjoon this is Mr Park, he was the one who went through our client's file, and seemed to have done an impressive job" Jimin chuckled at your words and scratched his head.

"Ah! It was nothing, I just did was I was told.." Jimin smiled. In his mind though, he wondered why you praised him more in front of other colleagues but not when it was just you and him.

Jungkook stood there, watching how the others exchanged words and felt a little useless. Namjoon nodded at Jimin in greeting then patted Jungkook's back, somehow knowing what he was feeling. "You'll be dealing with cases in no time my friend" Jungkook forced a smile at Namjoon.

"Are we all ready?" You asked, Namjoon and Jungkook nodded headed towards the door and exited. Jimin froze, for a moment, looking at the other intern leave then at you. "Are we going somewhere?" He asked.

"Well, yes..." You said bluntly, as though it was obvious. You slipped your phone into your skirt pocket which was the only thing you needed since Namjoon already had the file. You walked past him for a moment then paused, noticing how he was hesitating and running his hand through his hair briefly.

"Oh right.." You just remembered "I forgot to tell you, you're coming with me to a client meeting."

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

Jungkook had to look away from you, every time you moved your eyes towards him in your office. He didn't want you catching him perv at you. Had he known that you were the Ice Queen, hell he'd sell his soul to have you as boss. He noticed how the curves on your body was in all the right places, and the way your silky hair flowed off your shoulder. Even though you're attire was simple, it was oozing with sex appeal. He licked his lower lip, then looked away. He wanted to make it his mission to get into your pants.

#bts #jimin #park jimin #smut #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #bts fanfic #bangtan fanfic #bangtan #fanfic #sexyjimin #namjoon #jungkook #kpopwritingnet

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cnfhumss12a-blog · 5 years

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Liminal: The Binondo Phenomenon

By Charlene Enriquez

There’s always that weird in-between period in your life; like being a teenager, when you’re transitioning from child to adult. You realize that you don’t quite fit in your local playground, the swings are a bit too small or the seesaw too close to the ground -- but you also can’t enjoy recreational adult spaces like bars because you don’t quite fit in that scene also. It seems like the strings that guided you to act a certain way was abruptly cut off, and you must re-learn how to act again. This limbo is called a “liminal space”, a concept of “crossing over”, creating the feeling of having left something behind but you are not fully in something else. If you convert that phenomenon into a place, it would definitely be Ongpin, Binondo. It’s a confused mishmash of distinctly Chinese memorabilia shadowed by a flurry of Filipino conceptions.

Chinese red lanterns are strung all over the place, Chinese characters are present in signs and logos of establishments, and shops sell unique products of herbal medicine with inscrutable Chinese instructions. This is undercut by a huge Catholic cathedral where hundreds of Filipinos attend mass weekly, a number of eateries which sell Filipino viands and desserts, and vendors who sell fruits from our islands. The population is composed of Filipino-Chinese citizens -- Chinese-looking with accented Filipino tongues yet still know the ins and outs of Manila like the back of their hand. Of course, not everyone in the area is Fil-Chi; the people in the community have a huge number of Filipinos who aren’t distinctly mixed with Chinese blood. The whole place looked like a collision of two worlds -- like it doesn’t really know what it wants to be and it just happened to evolve into this creature of coalescing cultures.

We travelled to Ongpin on a jeep in a group of four. It was midday when we went down in front of Binondo Church, also known as the Minor Basilica of St. Lorenzo Ruiz. The area near its entrance was occupied by people in poverty: an old man with welts on his face asking for alms and a mother coaxing her three small kids playing with coins and sticks. The inside of the church was a stark contrast to the outside. Inside was a huge cavern, with a high ceiling supported by tall posts, creating wide arches. Images of heavenly glory covered the ceilings, atop the multi-colored metal chandeliers. A different kind of poverty permeated the people inside -- young and old men and women kneeling in fervent prayer by the pews, some standing by the Nazareno icon, others in line at the candle-lighting area to pray for their intentions. After saying our prayers, we took our exit to finally embark on our Binondo adventure. On the left and right of the Church were streets snaking into Chinatown behind it. Unsuspecting vehicles zipped past the Church, unaware of the hidden world behind it. We started our journey by entering the street at the Church’s right side, Ongpin St.

Our first stop was the Dragon Phoenix Enterprise, a shop selling an assortment of charms, gemstones, and golden statues of army generals, gods, and dragons. The pathway to the entrance was cluttered by figurines, Feng Shui books, and charms dangling by the doorway. The inside was even more stocked: with shelves after shelves of these goods. On the walls were calendars listing the different years of the Chinese Zodiac, with information on how one’s animal sign affects the wealth, relationships, and overall luck this 2019 Year of the Pig. Beside the glass case of gemstone jewelry were paragraphs explaining the “powers” of the gemstones -- bracelets that give good luck when gambling, enhance fertility or protect the wearer from danger. All in all, the shop was swarming with these items, leaving frustratingly narrow aisles in between shelves. We had to line up and enter the aisles one by one to get a proper look around. We also had to be very mindful of the space we take up, with figurines one elbow nudge away from tipping over the entire store. This shop aiming to sell Feng Shui-approved items was ironically cluttered, had dim lighting, and generally left no space for good luck to roam in -- an affront to Feng Shui principles. Maybe that’s the appeal of the place; that it doesn’t pretend to be the paragon of spiritual enlightenment, but still does enough to show it knows some things. A perfect in-between of the temporal and spiritual world. It doesn’t know whether it’s a treasure chest of good luck and prosperity or a stockpile of make-believe magical items. (Or maybe it knows but doesn’t really care.)

Exiting the shop, we were hit by the blazing noon sun, signalling the height of lunchtime. Relieved to finally be free from that cramped shop, we roamed around the dizzying streets of Ongpin that had restaurants everywhere. After being paralyzed by the amount of choices, we finally settled with Estero Fast Food, a karinderya right next to -- you guessed it -- an estero or canal. A short stairway led into a sort-of tunnel which housed a few eateries. Despite the dull concrete floors and, frankly, disgusting environment (I mean, it was right next to a canal…), it was surprisingly not unappetizing. A chain-link fence separated the canal from the area, and strung on the fence were potted plants. There was no smell either and the store booths obscured the view of the canal. The Estero booth displayed assorted raw meat on bowls: chicken, pork, beef, even salmon. The menu was expansive and more importantly, the prices were student-friendly! We ended up ordering salt and pepper chicken, beef with broccoli, shrimp with oyster sauce, and yang chow rice. The four of us only spent a little less than 200 pesos each for all that! The servings were huge enough for all of us (there were even leftovers), the meat soft and bursting with flavor. It was a hearty meal straddling the line between Filipino and Chinese karinderya cuisine, eliciting a full and cozy stomach.

A meal is not complete without dessert, and so we went on the hunt for Ongpin’s trademark mango sago. We asked two restaurants if they had it, only to be disappointed that there was none. We trudged on under the heat until we finally saw the famous Salido Restaurant! We excitedly hurried to the second floor where it was nestled and encountered creaky wooden steps and dim overhead lighting as if we were entering an abandoned place. The interior was quite old-looking. A tiled bar counter straight from the 80s, a supposedly white floor that’s now yellow due to age, and chipped wooden round tables taking up majority of the spacious restaurant. The aircon was broken, plus the TV and speakers seemed like they’ve been unused for a long time. At first glance, everything seemed drab because the slight yellowish tint in the lighting covered the place with a nostalgic sepia glow. The windows were tiny and few, so it was hard to tell what time of the day it was. It felt like a place your grandparents would describe as their hangout spot; like it was stuck in the past, withering away but still alive.

Interestingly, the store was filled with balding old men with their wives and a few adults (perhaps their children); we were the only young people in the shop. Most tables were exclusively old men. They were eating light meals with tea or coffee, conversing with each other. Maybe they were talking about their businesses or their grandchildren or the old days. (Old people love talking about that.) In contrast, the waiters and staff were pretty young and had smiles on their faces. Once our mango sago arrived, we asked the lady waiting on us about the history of Salido and she pointed us to the corner of the restaurant where an adult man was sitting alone, his framed eyes keenly trained on his phone. He apparently owned the place. He looked a bit intimidating, seemingly busy with his brows knit together. The lady just laughed and told us he’s kind. We gulped down the mango juice and sago. Truthfully, it was less sweet than I expected but that was probably because a lot of customers are old people. Afterwards, we approached the owner and introduced ourselves. He made us sit at his table and he was pretty warm towards us, letting go of his iPhone X once we joined him. His name was Arthur King, and he gave each of us his calling card as an introduction. He spoke to us in Filipino, with a lightly noticeable Chinese accent. He wasn’t that old; probably in his fifties. Once we’ve settled down, he jokingly asked if we were from the BIR asking about sales. We assured him we weren’t and proceeded to ask about his store and the history surrounding it. He launched the story of how his lolo set up Salido, originally a small turo-turo karinderya which eventually expanded into a restaurant. After World War 2 damaged his karinderya, it was rebuilt in the place where it stands now and continued to flourish, staying strong until today. Once we asked about his customers, he leaned forward and started to excitedly point at different people in the shop. “Ayan, may-ari siya ng Ace Hardware at ka-batch ko dati sa school. ‘Yung nandoon sa likod na natutulog? Jusko, lagi ‘yang nandito noong bata yan! Tumatambay at naglalasing dito hanggang gabi at may dala-dalang mga girlfriend!” He knew almost everyone and excitedly recounted each one’s story to us. He even bragged about Erap and Atienza being regulars as well, advising us to come by every Sunday if we wished to see them. Salido was indeed a place of the past stuck in the present. Arthur King and his friends (his knights at Salido’s round tables) willfully stuck around in the limbo of Salido, enjoying the last reminders of their young days with their old friends.

We left the store and saw that it was almost 4 in the afternoon. Time goes by faster when you’re in Binondo, I guess. We found our way through the labyrinth of streets, and finally found ourselves back at Binondo Church; this time, emerging from the opposite side of where we entered, the left-side Norberto Ty St. We went full circle and now we were back to the regular view of zipping jeepneys and fast-paced walkers, consumed by concerns of the present. Binondo gave us a needed break as we explored the mysterious behemoth of in-betweens. The in-betweens of Filipino and Chinese cuisine, of the spiritual and temporal world, and of the past and present. Different places with different purposes, but all under the same Binondo phenomenon. Visiting the places, it is evident that it doesn’t quite fit in both Filipino and Chinese cultures -- it’s like you left Manila but you’re not fully in China. Lost souls are sure to find a place amidst the dysphoric Binondo (and only for a few bucks).

Gallery: https://cnfhumss12a.tumblr.com/tagged/Charlene

#english #Charlene

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