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rinrinp42 · 3 years

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The Red Planet

For the first day of @jangobiweek, Enemies to Lovers (though it more ended up pre-relationship). It did end up longer than I expected, also there’s violence

Jango wanted to rub his temples, but he trusted Priest about as far as a Hutt could throw. At least outside of being on contract together. He had only tracked the di’kut down because he was a good soldier. Same with Reau. Ward was better but also could just fade into the background to the point that it’d be hard to pinpoint what jobs he’d been on.

But then, the four of them being on this planet was Priest’s fault so honestly, it might not have been worth it. The damn di’kut demanded they go to Ord Radama before heading to Kamino and then the solar storm hit and scrambled the nav. And now they had crashed on this planet.

This… weird, maybe abandoned planet? There were old building overtaken by plants and a few other old crashed ships. Jango wasn’t even sure they were in the same system anymore.

“Hello there!” a voice cut through the cold air.

All four Mandalorians whirled to face the voice.

It was a Jetii, fresh from their kriffing temple. His red hair was that growing out from a buzz that indicated he was recently a Padawan.

“Jetii,” Priest growled.

“I am Obi-Wan Kenobi. It would seem we all were caught in that solar storm,” the Jetti grinned at them.

Jango glowered beneath his buy’ce before taking a fortifying breath. He was starting the process to get his revenge.

“So, it would seem,” Jango spoke.

The Jetii was silent for a moment.

“Well then, I will let you be,” he spoke then and then turned away.

Reau made a sound of disgust that Jango felt in his soul. Jetii arrogance.

They found a ship that might just have a part that could be jury-rigged to get them off the planet, but it had taken them hours. And there was something about this abandoned planet that was making Jango’s skin crawl under his kute. He and Priest had gone in the old ship to search the parts while Reau and Ward stayed outside to keep an eye out.

Just because they hadn’t seen anyone since the Jetii left didn’t mean that there was no one else there. Especially as they kept hearing things moving just out of sight. Even if it was weird that they couldn’t pick up anyone on the scanners.

“I don’t think this’ll work,” Priest finally sighed, “the parts you said we’d need to connect it are missing. Maybe if one of the other ships had something similar but…”

He was right, damnit. That was the problem with having an experimental ship, the parts were sometimes so specific that he had limited options to repair it or he needed more parts than otherwise to make it work.

“There’s the buildings we haven’t gotten to,” Jango pointed out, “we should probably look there for extra parts. I think I say a port when we were crashing.”

No need to explain why he hadn’t aimed for the port in the first place. Priest had also seen the plant life that had creeped violently through the buildings. The tundra like area they ended up in was better in the lack of hidden dangers for the ground.

When they exited it was to Reau scanning the horizon. She was carefully moved her gaze from ship to ship as if she would miss something miniscule if she went to fast.

“Reau?” Jango prompted, his own hand coming up to flick on his scanners.

“Ward’s gone,” she spoke quietly, “we were circling to keep an eye on everything and he didn’t meet back up with me. At first I thought he had seen something and slipped off to investigate but he hasn’t shown back up.”

That… that was unsettling. Ward wasn’t someone Jango was particularly close to but he knew the other man well enough that he wouldn’t expect Ward to not check in. And Slave I was unusual enough that there was no chance of Ward finding the right piece to get off. Especially given that Jango had a secondary part that needed to be plugged in to leave given he didn’t actually trust any of them.

“Which side was he on?” he asked, mind already racing.

Reau nodded towards the buildings, “that side.”

Well, guess they were checking out the port then.

They were about halfway there when the Jetii showed up again. This time he was disheveled, thrown off by something. He paused when he spotted them, eyes raking over them.

He swore violently when he saw Ward was missing. The type of swearing that even without knowing the Jetii Jango could tell was out of place coming from him.

“How long has your friend been gone? Did you see him get taken?”

“What’s it to you-” Jango could hear the sneer in Priest’s voice and rolled his eyes.

Was Jango the only one that didn’t let his hatred of Jetiise cloud his mind? Obviously, he had run into something.

“Reau, tell him,” he ordered.

She stiffened and threw a glare through her buy’ce at him but answered.

The Jetii ran a hand threw his hair.

“Listen, this planet,” he spoke, eyes scanning the area around them restlessly, “it’s filled with some sort of, I don’t know, twisted organisms? They don’t act like normal for their species and they…”

His eyes met Jango’s through the visor.

“We weren’t the only ones to crash here due to that storm. They consumed the others. Turned them to be like them. At least those that they didn’t eat.”

Jango felt a chill go down his spine. He didn’t know why he trusted the Jetii, but he did. It was insane, but…

“We can’t leave,” he said, “our ship broke when we were landing.”

The Jetii nodded, “mine as well. Maybe we can cannibalize my ship for your’s? Work together to get off of this planet? We can part ways after that.”

Jango hesitated. He didn’t want to work with the Jetii, even if he believed what he said. Yet the Jetiise had new ships than what they had been seeing.

“Fine. Lead the way.”

“So, why’s a Jetii all the way out in the Esstran System?” Reau asked, “isn’t it a bit close to the Sith Worlds for your lot?”

Of course she couldn’t help but to poke at the Jetii. Jango really shouldn’t have expected better of her.

“It was the Sith Worlds that I came out here for,” the Jetii said, “I was trying to find information on a Sith.”

Great. A Jetii scholar. Probably didn’t do battle often then.

“The last mission I went on with my Master we were attacked by a Sith as we were protecting the Naboo Queen. Given that the Sith have been gone for centuries, it raised questions.”

Priest paused at that, and Jango almost joined him.

“You mean there are dar’jetiise in the Galaxy again?” Priest demanded.

Jango wanted to know as well, a sliver of unease digging into his mind, replaying every meeting he had had with his employer.

He might despise the Jetiise for the hand they had in the destruction of the Haat Mando’ade, but the dar’jetiise had used Mando’ade, had made their culture into a puppet to be directed by them, had pushed them into much that, in retrospect, had weakened them. Historically allies meant, in truth, used and abused by the dar’jetiise.

And Jango had a feeling he had walked into yet another trap set by them blinded as he was with a lust for vengeance. And, a voice not unlike Jaster’s whispered in the back of his mind, look what it has already led you to do. Who you choose to work with.

The Jet- Kenobi turned back, mouth opening to reply.

It was cut off as something tackled Priest down, clawing at his beskar’gam.

It had once been human, that much Jango could tell. But now? Now it was emancipated beyond anything he had seen, skin tight to its bones except where he could see vines writhing underneath.

Reau screamed in rage, bringing her blasters to arm and started to shoot.

Kenobi grabbed both Jango and Reau and yanked them back.

“They travel in packs; we need to move.��

Reau kept shooting as Kenobi tried to pull them along, eyes darting around, tense. Sure enough, others joined the being in tearing Priest open like he was a lobster.

Jango pulled his arm out of Kenobi’s grip and tossed Reau over his shoulder, carrying her as she kept shooting.

“Get us to your ship Kenobi!” Jango ordered.

Honestly, kriff this entire planet. If he could he would destroy it just to make sure no one else had to deal with this.

Kenobi gave one sharp nod and moved forward. It took a while for Reau to stop firing and then she just snarled at him to put her down and was silent.

The Jedi Starfighter Kenobi had was a Delta-6 Sprite, luckily. Jango had retrofitted parts of one for Slave I before.

They quickly stripped the parts they needed out.

“Can you use your Jetii powers to carry that?” Jango asked, mind racing for how to get them back to Slave I.

“Yes, but I won’t be much use in a fight if I do so.”

“That’s fine. You stay in the middle. I’ll take point, Reau’ll bring up the rear. We need to get back to my ship quickly and get off. I don’t like our chances with those things the longer we linger.”

They both nodded.

They encountered two more packs on their way back. One they were able to avoid, seeing them a while off and diverting around some of the crashed ships. They were tense the whole time, Kenobi keeping the parts as close to himself as possible, and they moved slowly. But the pack wandered off, searching for meat elsewhere.

They weren’t able to avoid the second pack though. That one spotted them between clumps of ships. It also had a transformed Ward. But it seemed as though Ward had taken down much of the pack before they got him, as it was only numbering 3.

Jango was able to shoot down one of them, a Zeltron in the tattered remains of black robes before they got close enough that he had to bark at Reau to join him in taking them on.

The things moved fast enough that they couldn’t get either down before they were too close for blaster fire. Not with allies there as well and Ward still in beskar’gam, though missing one [pauldron]

Jango was able to push Ward back some with his flamethrower, the flames pulling an inhuman screech from Ward. He kept trying to put himself between Ward and Kenobi, hoping to hold off long enough for Reau to finish off the other one and help him take down the now-inhuman Ward.

Reau, on the other hand, pulled out a kad to keep the other one back. That one, a blond humanoid, didn’t seem bothered by the various cuts Reau landed on them.

Reau was able to end it though, when she impaled the thing and it pushed her down. It sank down on top of her, her kad going through it more and more. It tore at her as she struggled to keep it away. Its hands catching on and ripping her kute before she pulled one of her blasters out. She pressed it to the thing’s head and pulled. It toppled over, still.

At the same time, Kenobi twisted around Jango and with a hum, his blue jetii’kad cut through Ward at the neck.

Kenobi immediately deactivated his jetii’kad as Ward fell over as well.

Jango wasn’t sure how he felt about a jetii’kad killing another Mando’ad, but.

But Kenobi had just saved his life.

“We need to move,” was the only thing he could think to say.

It was lucky. They were close to Slave I.

They hurried there. Jango and Kenobi worked quickly and efficiently to install the parts, patching what they could.

Jango handed Kenobi the piece he had taken from the cockpit and told him to start up the ship as he grabbed Reau.

He found her outside, stripping her beskar’gam off.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“My kute was ripped,” she said, “that thing bled on me. I won’t risk exposing the rest of the galaxy to whatever is on this planet.”

She hesitated then, looking at him. It was a look filled with too much that he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“You would have been a great Mand’alor,” she told him, “make sure my family knows I fought bravely. Give them back my beskar’gam.”

Her lips quirked then, “maybe apologize that I couldn’t send back my blasters and kad. I want to take as many of these [fuckers] out as I can once you two are gone.”

“’lek.”

It was all he could offer her.

He closed the hatch then.

“It’s just you and me,” he told Kenobi as he joined the Jetii in the cockpit, “Reau is staying. She thinks she’s infected.”

“Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la,” Kenobi murmured.

Jango closed his eyes and the ship took off.

It was going to take a while to figure out where to go once they were free of this planet and Jango had some decisions to make about what to tell this Jetii.

Because he was going to tell him. He refused to be a pawn to the dar’jetii and Kenobi…

Obi-Wan Kenobi cared.

#My writing #jangobi week 2021 #jangobi #jango fett #obi wan kenobi #tbf this more ended up a pre-jangobi #zombies #tw: character death #dred priest #isabet reau #llats ward #mace sent obi off to look into maul and give him time to mourn #and also adjust anakin to the temple #jangobiweek2021

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dercolaris · 3 years

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Calmness

"There is still space for another photo on this wall."

Hey guys. I will keep you busy during these crazy times and provide you another Scriddler story. This one was still on my list to translate, so, yep. Needed to be done. Right now I’m working on a new book idea and that’s consuming a bit of time, but maybe it will be worth it. Enjoy!

Thanks @shin-arei for helping me again with the translation <3

Song: https://youtu.be/ESu5YQTBilw

The small drops of water tapped almost regularly on the window, running in growing rivulets down the previously dirty glass onto the sodden ground. Jonathan's icy blue eyes stared into the all-engulfing darkness outside, looking for something in the oppressive blackness. The former psychiatrist himself didn't really know what it actually was in this moment. There was probably nothing hiding in the night. The edges of his mouth twitched a bit. This inner emptiness literally made him sick and every attempt to escape from it or to fill it meaningfully ended with the thoughts of this terrible state being forced upon him. It was almost impossible for him to simply enjoy such a moment of rest. The rogue sighed softly and leisurely turned his gaze from the window, let the opals roam briefly through the spacious living room. It was kept meticulously clean. Almost too perfectly organized. Everything in this room had its rightful place and if there was a new purchase it would find a safe place for eternity without any problems. People tended to praise the former psychiatrist for this fact, even to rave about being able to implement such a functioning system themselves. Nevertheless, the Master of Fear knew that this order was nothing more than a farce to escape the chaos in his own head. Who could have guessed what was really going on in their branched brain? Jonathan absently reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, carefully sticking one of the coffin nails into his mouth. He didn't ignite it, just played a little with the poisonous stalk between his teeth, sliding it slowly from side to side with his tongue. A small smile crept onto his worn lips. Edward had hated it profoundly when his significant other had smoked and after some heated discussions the gaunt man had finally agreed to cancel this vice for good. However, this did not stop him from fooling his mind into thinking that he was going to remedy the situation soon with a cigarette. For the most part, addictions were simply a matter of the mind and - if the will was there - surprisingly easy to overcome. Routines, on the other hand, seemed more difficult to break through. Jonathan nibbled carefully on the filter and after a few seconds took the coffin nail out of his mouth again, sliding it back into the remaining box. He stowed it safely in the grey jacket and looked around at the door. There was no one to be seen. The brown-haired man chuckled cautiously and turned his eyes back to the steamed-up window.

The tinkerer would most likely jump at his throat at this now rare sight or at least make a derogatory comment that he should finally banish the cursed stalks from his collection. Despite the often sarcastic remarks, the former psychiatrist knew that the Riddler was only concerned about him and wanted the best for his partner. Even if the inventor would probably never admit these good intentions or talk them down. After a while, the Master of Fear casually looked down at his socks, and was startled to see some new holes in the worn fabric. He reached down with his thin arms and pulled his stockings off his feet, then sauntered almost silently to the red sofa in the middle of the room. The gaunt man took a seat on the left, looked a while for suitable utensils from the ornate sewing box on the massive side table. He was probably not as skilled with needles and threads as Jervis Tetch, but his poorly trained talent should be enough for darning some socks. The thin man carefully got to work. As the first hole closed gradually on the fabric, another notch opened in his soul. No matter how hard the elder tried to ignore it, a nagging feeling lingered in his heart. Something in him was unfulfilled. Jonathan paused at work, staring at his own bony fingers. For more than three months he had been living with the inventor in a well-preserved old apartment in one of the countless suburbs of Gotham. They had mutually agreed to stay out of major difficulties for a while and to figure out if a relationship could work out for them. Moving in together was therefore the ultimate test to be able to speak of a solid, maybe even stable partnership. The former psychiatrist barely noticeably shook his head and began sewing again. It was still incredibly difficult for the brown-haired man to adjust to the unknown situation. He had never known someone by his side in his life and suddenly being able to trust Edward was just too absurd. Who would seriously care about him and voluntarily adjust his entire life to his habit, just so as not to disturb him too much in the usual processes of living?

This made the Master of Fear doubt whether the Riddler was really being sincere with him. Was it possible that the other was just playing a deceptive game with him and would leave him when he had enough of it? The former psychiatrist closed his eyes for a moment, listening into his slowly beating heart. Mind and feelings were of course more than disagreed, often fighting bitterly for the upper hand, but the steady rhythm of his body centre spoke an unmistakable language. He knew from unfathomable, almost mystical sources about the honesty of the inventor. The lean man half opened his tired eyelids, put sewing kit and socks on the side table. In addition to all the small gestures of affection Edward showed him at home, he didn't seem ashamed to be seen with Jonathan in public. They weren't necessarily interested in showing their love to the whole world or even shouting it out openly, but the Riddler often enough broke the invisible barrier between them, which was actually meant to keep the appearance of a normal friendship. Jonathan still didn't know how the underground would react to their relationship. Strangely enough, this actually frightened him. Why, however, was a mystery to him. It was basically nobody's business with whom he shared the bed at night and how he imagined his own future. Yet there was this voice in his head preaching to him repeatedly to keep everything under wraps. It was the same voice that was responsible for convincing him that he was not worth the time of the tinkerer and that one day he would pack his bags and leave without a word. The brown-haired man sagged a little, pulled his legs up leisurely. Loneliness. How many times had he wasted thought that he would spend his whole life alone. That no one would ever be ready to take him and, like Edward, just hugs him at night. The Master of Fear put his chin on his knees. There were certain points of contention in their relationship, but these too were easily resolved. In general, the time together with the black-haired man was surprisingly harmonious and the former psychiatrist no longer wanted to do without his presence. He stared at the crackling fire in the ancient fireplace, watching the flames leap wildly on all sides. Jonathan stroked his thinning hair and groaned slightly. The last few years had practically passed him by like trains.

The hatred of all his tormentors had crept insidiously to an immensely high level and every new interaction with Batman had crowned this feeling. What remained was the realization that in his eternal anger he had lost sight of a crucial goal. His own happiness. Had it really gotten to the point where someone had to remind him that he only had one life and that he should have fun in it from time to time? Joy had been a foreign word to the older man for ages. There was just work and more work. That Edward of all people was the one who had spoken to his conscience to see things a little more calmly was pure irony. The Riddler himself was an unteachable workaholic and if you don't remind him to take a break from time to time, he works to the proverbial collapse. The former psychiatrist smiled a little wider. He had sent his partner to bed over two hours ago this evening. With a loud protest from the stubborn inventor, of course. Nevertheless, the black-haired man finally made his way into the bedroom and fell asleep on the soft mattress after a few minutes. A clear sign that he had been overtired and urgently needed a break. Jonathan blinked a little, then released the convulsive grip on his knees. He got up from the sofa and walked calmly into the hallway, looking down the dark corridor. His eyes locked on the dry wall. It was full with photographs that they had taken together over the years of their rather dubious friendship. Among them was their first meeting in the infamous Iceberg Lounge, which Harleen had kindly immortalized for them and an ancient photo from the Gotham Gazette of their first joint arrest as a criminal duo. The brown-haired smiled almost happily while looking at this really unique snapshot. Edward had a more than visible injury under his eye in the sepia-coloured picture and even the Master of Fear had not got away without some wounds. The gaunt man let his gaze wander further. They had attached the photos in chronological order. It finally culminated with the photo of the fateful birthday party of Victor Fries, at which Jonathan had admittedly decided somewhat unintentionally to want to walk the future together with the inventor. That evening he had clearly looked way too deeply into the glass and confessed, under high linguistic difficulties of course, his love to Edward. Fortunately, they had been alone in the winter garden at this intimate moment, which led the tinkerer to give him a meaningful kiss in response. The clumsy confession was followed by the first night in the same bed.

Looked at it soberly, this evening was just the happy end of a protracted development. It wasn't a particularly big surprise that their paths not only crossed accidentally in Gotham, but actually ended up in walking the way together. The brown-haired man in particular had been able to successfully overcome his fear of contact over the years and did not regret for a second that he had told the Riddler the truth about his feelings. Jonathan took a deep breath. He hoped that there would be many more photographs of them to follow on the wall. Without looking further at the pictures, the gaunt man crept in the direction of the bedroom, peeking leisurely into it. Edward was lying on his back, his left forearm resting on his forehead as is so often the case. The blanket hung more badly than right over his hip, only covering the lower abdomen of the black-haired man. The inventor had the unconscious habit of tossing the warming material somewhere in his sleep and waking up shivering in the morning because his body was slowly cooling down. The former psychiatrist walked quietly towards the bed, then finally sat on the edge. His eyes studied his lover carefully, noticing every little change in his relaxed face. After a few minutes the gaunt man looked up and gave a slight shudder. There was still so much to do, so much work which was piling up without any mercy. A break was out of the question. Jonathan was about to get up when the hand of the tinkerer grabbed his gently. The brown-haired man raised an eyebrow. His partner was asleep, but seemed to instinctively seek his presence somehow. The Master of Fear turned his hand carefully and interlaced their fingers, looking lovingly at the younger man. As if in slow motion, he sank down on the mattress and fished with his free fingers for the completely twisted bedspread at the foot end. He gradually pulled the fabric over them and moved closer to the tinkerer. The Riddler turned abruptly to the side, wrapping his left arm around the former psychiatrist's narrow body with light pressure. The older man paused for a moment, but then returned the hug tenderly and laid his head on the comfortable pillow next to Edward. He began to carefully caress the neck of the often over-the-top tinkerer, studying the gentle contours of his beautiful face. The inventor groaned almost in relief and snuggled closer to the gaunt man, then surprisingly buried his face in the crook of the other's neck. The warm, even breath brushed the cool skin. Jonathan smiled warmly and ran two fingers up the slightly curved spine of his lover. He finally placed a loving kiss on the back of the head and whispered hoarsely: "Sleep well, my prince."

#DC #Batman #Arkham Verse #Jonathan Crane #Edward Nygma #Scarecrow #Riddler #Riddlecrow #Scriddler

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monkeystrokes10 · 3 years

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We gave birth to the concept in the wee hours in the common area, aka Creative Lounge. Gustaf was sitting cross-legged on the air hockey table, meditating. Ben, doodling body parts, Jaime in headphones, and me Scrabbling With Friends.

It was our third consecutive all-nighter brainstorming next week’s Whole-Heart Brown Rice presentation, and from an idea standpoint, had what we needed. However, Malcolm Bain, agency founder aka work/life balance denier, insisted on these idea-generating marathons. “That's when the genius happens," says the man who considers Wes Anderson films a yawn. "When you are exhausted and spent.”

Bain. Former business-park developer whose favorite pastimes are power-washing his Cessna 172 and guesstimating his net worth with each Dow closing. His favorite director is Oliver Stone.

Whole-Heart Brown Rice tastes like gerbil bedding. Milled just like white rice, nothing whole grain about it. The brown is food coloring.

It took the account team a two-hour powerpoint to convey to us dope-smoking "creatives" that most consumers combine rice with other foods, including the Asian demographic. We pay these people?

Ben came up with "Everything's right on Whole-Heart Brown Rice." Jyoti added the Gwyneth Paltrow lookalike popping out of the box, flashing a shaka. "Right on!”

The account people would eat it up, pun intended. Bain too. “Right on!” over-designed into billboards, TV, digital, email, point-of-purchase, translites, and oh yeah, fidget spinners. Anything to justify the iceberg-sized invoice of billable hours. Right on!

Gustaf opened his eyes like a genie from a lamp. "This is boolshit."

There’s a picture of Gustaf on the agency website. When Diversity and Inclusivity became buzzwords, B(r)ain Power Inc. hired man-bunned Gustaf “who enjoys tai-chi and rock climbing.” Also Jyoti, Head Designer, sporting chartreuse buzz cut and choli top.

"Look at us,” Gustaf said. “We’re pathetic. Selling fake brown rice.” He bounced a nerf basketball off my head. "Locked in a playpen with toys, spinning gold for shysters."

We laughed. Gustaf did not. "We are better than this," he said.

Erika wasn't laughing either. "I have a gay friend who works for Chick-fil-A."

"She's a whore." Gustaf put his foot behind his head. "We all are."

As introvert copywriter dork, I keep my mouth shut unless I have something on paper to read from. But it was 3:30 a.m. and I just cracked an Allabash Truepenny from the pretentious agency beer fridge, my fourth. "Can't argue,” I said. “Those illiterate cows want to kill the Equality Act.”

Boycott posts had been on my newsfeed for years. Fundamentalist chicken-sandwich billionaire isn't open on Sunday and believes in conversion therapy.

Despite the headphones, Jaime could hear everything. “Advertising feeds the monsters,” she said a little too loud.

Ben flipped an Exacto knife into the drop ceiling. "We are better than this. We should do something worth a damn.”

Erika went for more beer and creative genius struck. An hour later we made a run to the 24-hour home-supply box store.

Tomorrow night, we go into production.

***

The billboard was just off the beltway, at Exit 10. A rusted frame of girders and I-beams supporting the weight of two three-dimensional life-sized fiberglass cows.

One cow stood on the back of the other, hoof reaching up to paint the headline, "Eat Mor Chikin.” I hate it. Bos taurus telling you to eat Gallus domesticus. So creepy.

Jyoti thought of the white coveralls to look like a Chick-fil-A work crew, painting them with big black splotches to match the Holsteins.

Gustaf in his harness scaled the thing and rigged a pulley system off the scaffolding, hoisting Jaime, Ben, and Erika behind him onto the narrow work platform. Jyoti waited below with art supplies. I manned the other end of the base in charge of tools, including the crowbar I used to pry open a breaker box and flip-switch the board into darkness.

Jaime and Gustaf switched on their headlamps and crawled under the cows. A bucket lowered on a rope. “Half-inch drive ratchet, three-quarter socket, combo wrench, cutting wheel," Jaime called down. I rummaged her toolbox, took my best guess, and tugged. The bucket ascended.

Erika lowered a bucket from her end of the platform. “Red, white, two angle brushes, nine-inch roller," she stage whispered. Jyoti filled the order.

At 3:00 a.m., traffic was scarce, but my heart was banging away like Sheila E. Gustaf grinding sparks and Jaime in a ratcheting frenzy as Ben performed the sex changes with a handsaw, epoxy, and four Sculpey horns.

Then the three of them grunted the two transgender Holsteins into Verse 37 of the Kama Sutra.

Erika brushed away at copy revisions on her side of the billboard, teetering horrifically on Jyoti’s shoulders, who’d somehow climbed up to get in on the action.

I could hardly watch. If someone got hurt, we'd all be touring emergency rooms, central booking, Dewey, Cheatum, & Howe law offices, and unemployment lines.

On a lighter note, my headlamped co-workers in makeshift cow-coveralls looked like Oompah Loompahs working Willy Wonka's milking machine. I heard nervous giggling, and realized it was mine.

In five minutes, it was a wrap. After everyone rappelled to terra firma, I flipped the power back on so we could admire our work.

As an ad, it put the mess in messaging. A convoluted shitshow. But to overworked, frustrated, guilt-ridden creatives, it was the best thing we'd ever done.

The receiving bull, standing on its hind legs, gazed dreamily into the night while the servicing bull fellated its single modified udder/penis.

An LGBTQ rainbow was art directed over the bovine lovers. Erika had rendered the cow scrawl like a photoshop wizard. Gustaf was right, "Home of the Homophobe Sandwich" would’ve been copy heavy.

However, "Suk More Dik'n" was One Show Pencil gold. Underneath, the tagline in pink script. “It’s Natural!”

Erika took the low-hanging fruit. "The client's going to have a cow."

***

A celebratory IHOP blueberry stack, and we were back in the office. Bain didn't show up until after 11, wearing an Adidas tracksuit and a Tag Heuer.

"It's nuts out there this morning. Exit 10 is backed up like you wouldn't believe," he said.

Jyoti, still in her cow get-up, gave a triumphant moo.

Bain didn't blink. “Well, team, did lightning strike?"

"We're in a good place, Chief," I said.

"Right on," Bain said.

Right on, indeed.

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lilaacstars · 3 years

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you’re in my veins (and i can’t get you out).

rating: T | words: 31.227 | pt 2.

read it on ao3

He watches how her eyes grow big after listening to his offer. His eyes fix on her and start to notice the bruises she has close to her scalp, down to her ear, the edge of her jaw and on the visible part of her neck. Her bangs are falling gracefully to the side - too gracefully- but he can take a peek, with the little cat senses he still has left, and see that underneath that perfect hairstyle there are stitches and missing hair.

He gulps, almost choking on his saliva, it feels thick and heavy and his throat has closed, impeding his ability to breathe, but he hasn’t stopped so his body trembles, and it is like he will puke, but there’s only the acid on his stomach, and it goes up as if it was a bubbly chemical reaction, but his throat is still closed, and he just feels as if his whole body will shut down but it’s too awake at the vision of her. And then the sensations pile up, then crumble down, then pile up again, and it’s a cycle of obscure overwhelming emotions that trigger and stop every reaction his body pulls.

It is disgusting, nauseating, gory even.

Upclose, face to face, breathing the same air, the consequences are not an image fabricated by his brain anymore, and yet, he knows there are so many more hidden marks of treachery that will present itself in flesh and pain.

Her lips tremble and her sight finally fixes on his, only to look away a second after.

However, she leans forward, closer to the window.

Adrien takes one step back and that allows Ladybug to come inside the room.

Her steps are careful and light as if she is ready to jump back to the window and run away from here at any given moment. Adrien is sure that it isn't a baseless guess, but what is truly going through her mind is still a cypher.

After standing in the middle of the room and eyeing everywhere around, she finally walks back to stand beside the coffee table and lets out a long sigh.

Next, Ladybug stands close to the window, only giving little steps in a small space. She takes the end of her long braid and starts playing with the end.

He looks at her, hands on his pockets as he fidgets and waits for her to speak, for her to guide him where she needs to be.

“It’s good to see you,” Adrien whispers and takes one step forward.

Ladybug crooks a brow and tightly hugs herself. She doesn’t answer.

“You haven’t been out as Lady Noire in a long time. Is there a reason?” He asks, trying to sound as ignorant as a civilian would be.

Ladybug lets out an amused scoff but there’s no real joy behind it.

Her eyes are focused on the skyline and a thin layer of gleaming tears is set on her eyes.

Adrien gulps, unsure if the reaction has something to do with him or is all about the thoughts she’s been carrying through her night stroll.

The question wouldn’t be an unusual one for a mere civilian. Maybe they wouldn’t be so eager to jump into it, maybe they would ask other questions first, but he was not a mere civilian… well, he was now, but there had been a time where he wasn’t.

No.

He still isn’t a mere character walking down the road. He will never be, and yet that is the path he must pretend to follow.

“This was a mistake,” He hears the whisper as loud as a siren.

He jolts on his spot and takes fast steps towards her. It only makes her jump faster towards the window.

“I- I’m-”

But before he can formulate a phrase on his mind for his mouth to stop the stammering, she is gone.

His eyes follow as she is only a ship in the night between the sea of city lights.

She is gone.

Gone.

Gone forever.

But is she?

She is not truly gone. She is alive, and she is patrolling, and Paris has their heroine back.

But he doesn’t.

He doesn’t have a partner, he doesn’t have a friend, he doesn’t have his other half.

He is a broken piece of a human that once felt he finally had the piece that could make him endure life, and now she is gone.

Not truly , but he has been left alone with her shadow roaming through the brightest corners of the life of others, yet creeping on the back of his mind, only smiling on his memories, and frowning and avoiding his gaze into the future.

His breath stops once again. One little detail striking like lightning.

She avoided his gaze as if he was a deathly disease.

Could… could she know who he was?

Marinette seems to be aware that he once was something special; someone special. And Ladybug is as smart as her, if not more.

But if she knows, then she wouldn’t have come. If she hates him so much that she couldn’t even bear for him to touch her when she needed someone to lean on (not in the figurative sense) then why would she seek for him? Why would she come to him?

It doesn’t make any sense and yet he can’t shake the thought out of his mind.

And it stays there, like a fly on the wall. As the days pass he will forget about it, and then the buzz of the wings will echo in the chamber of his mind and then it would be the only thing he can focus on.

Not school.

Not Kagami.

Not his friends.

Not Nathalie.

Not his father who finally makes time to have dinner with him.

Nothing at all.

Nothing but her and the knowledge she might have.

The wonder wouldn’t even pretend to hide when the sunset, it would make itself appear in other shapes through dreams. Some of them are tranquil, others are as bitter as reality can be, and yet the bittersweets are the worst. They show the road not taken, they show him taking good decisions after the terrible ones he’s taken, and reward him with what he has always wanted, the unravelling of the secret. Every day he wakes up and knows that he does not deserve any of it, that this can’t happen and that if it does happen he has to make sure he does not gain any redemption from it. And every day he wakes up knowing not only that he has broken every piece of her soul, but also has put her in imminent danger.

When she left he could see her limp, he could see how he prefered a certain grab on the yo-yo, and how short her jumps were in comparison to her usual ones.

There is nothing he can do to make it right, he’s already brought destruction to them, but if he could find a way to protect her, he wouldn’t think it twice.

He is sitting right next to Luka on the café table, as Nino looked for an empty chair he could use, he scribbled on a napkin.

They were waiting for their order to come, only one glass full of fresh water in front of each, and sugar and a plate of napkins in the middle of the round table.

Luka had his phone out, scrolling through, and tapping his foot against the pavement in a comforting rhythm.

This

“Sorry, I found a chair inside almost immediately, but I got bombarded by messages from Lya.”

Luka and Adrien giggled, the first more enthusiastic than the second, but that wasn’t a rare occurrence anymore, so there was no comment about it.

“How many of those texts were pictures?” Luka asks.

“Oh, half of those. She’s so excited that LB is back.”

Adrien stops drawing and looks towards Nino, watching his phone as Luka takes a look through the pictures.

“Ladybug was out?” He asks, pretending to not be incredibly interested. Even if after his breakdown in school he doesn’t think he can get away with it.

“Yeah, there was an akuma attack like an hour and a half ago?” Nino asks and Luka nods at him, “Don’t you have your alarm on?”

“No.” It was too painful to hear the akuma emergency line going off and not being able to do anything.

“Why not? You have to, you’re going to put yourself in danger.

His mouth opens and closes before he can show how uninterested he is in his safety. If he can stumble through the path of an akuma, he might see Ladybug, and no matter how many bruises, cuts, or blood he might lose on the way, all that pain would be worth it.

“It just stresses me out.” He lies, realizing his friends are expecting an answer, “Was she alone?” He can’t help but ask.

The shadow that crosses his friend’s eyes doesn’t startle him. He’s grown accustomed to this reaction.

“Yes.” They nod.

They seem to be interested in continuing this conversation, but Adrien has the call on it, and he doesn’t want any of it. They can’t know how personal it is for him, they can’t know that knowing that she is out there alone makes him feel as if he was cut in half.

“What were you looking for in your phone?” He says, turning his head to Luka, “You looked consumed by your phone.”

“A bike.” He gives a toothy smile.

“You already have one,” Nino says confused.

“I think he means a motorcycle,” Adrien smiles.

“Yes.”

“That’s so awesome,” Adrien chimes, “I have a license for it. My father doesn’t know, of course, but once I’m out of the house I’m buying one bike for myself too. Which ones have you seen?”

And Luka pulls out his phone again, showing the different models he has his eye on.

Adrien is glad that the subject takes a lot of the conversation. As their food and coffees arrive, they’re still talking about the prices, the equipment, the special license he has to have, and how Juleka isn’t very fond of him buying “such a dangerous vehicle”.

“She wants me to buy a car, I’ve tried to let her see that a car doesn’t go with my style.”

“It would be more comfortable for you to carry around your instruments.”

“Yes, but a car will never be cooler than a bike. Also,” He changes the website to a new one, “Look at these amazing suits and helmets.” Nino and Adrien move their chairs closer to Luka to get a better look.

There are different jackets and trousers to suit up for the cold, or not burn yourself with the pipes of the bikes (apparently this wasn’t a rare thing), there are others that only had the objective of making you look while riding. Adrien could understand that sometimes having a cool suit just made things better.

When Luka changes to the helmets, there is one that catches Adrien’s attention.

Is black and matte, with neon green accents around the shield, and all around the curve, as if it was stitched.

“Wow,” He hears himself gasp.

“I liked that one too!” Luka jumps, “But I think I will look like an astronaut, also I don’t think black is my colour.”

“It is mine.”

Nino and Luka laugh.

“When have you ever worn black?” Nino asks and gives him a shake as he hugs him, “I think I’ve seen you only wear it on photoshoots, and you always look so awkward.”

“I look fantastic in black.” Adrien protests, but not truly caring about making a better comeback.

His mind is too busy planning something else.

keep reading in ao3.

#ml fic #miraculous ladybug #ladrien #ladynoir

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meteora-writes · 4 years

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We Could Be Perfect One Last Night

Fandom: Hannibal Pairing: Will Graham x Hannibal Lecter Warnings: Blood, Description of Gunshot and Stab Wounds, Hypothermia, Breaking and Entering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Injury Recovery Description: The water is freezing. Sucking the very life out of him as Hannibal swims to the surface. He sees Will close by, unconscious, and goes to him. Wraps an arm around him and begins to swim to the best of his abilities towards the shore. He's not sure he can make it. Weak from bloodless and the fight with Francis Dolarhyde. But he's going to try. Chapter: 1 - Die Like Star-crossed Lovers Authors Notes: So I finished the show and the muses popped up in my head screaming at me to write this so that’s what I did instead of sleeping the other night. Fic and Chapter titles come from the song Our Lady Of Sorrows by MCR. Read on AO3

~~~~~

Jack Crawford is the first agent on the scene.

He had expected the blood. The broken glass. The signs of a difficult struggle.

What he hadn’t expected was to find only a single corpse waiting for him when he arrived at Hannibal Lecter’s hidden little home by the sea.

Francis Dolarhyde lays torn and bloodied in the center of the little courtyard that stands between the back of the house from the cliff’s edge. Blood pooled around him like great terrible wings spread in flight. It only holds his attention for a moment before he continues his search for who he’s really interested in finding now that he knows the Dragon is dead.

“WILL! WILL CAN YOU HEAR ME?” he yells into the night, hoping the other man is still close by. The pool of blood surrounding Dolarhyde is already looking as though it’s frozen solid to the ground. It’s been a particularly cold night, and the wind off the ocean is amplifying its effects. Meaning he has no idea how long it’s been since Dolarhyde was killed. It could have been twenty minutes, or two hours ago for all he knows without more information from the forensics team.

Quick footsteps alert Jack of the other agents approaching from all sides. “Fan out! I want people searching the woods and the beaches nearby. And get an ambulance here, now. Both Graham and Lecter are likely injured and will require medical attention when we find them!” he orders as he follows thick trails of blood as well as a few bloodied shoe prints to the edge of the cliff. He looks down, shining a flashlight for a little extra illumination along with that provided by the slowly setting full moon. There’s no sign of any bodies in the water below, or on the rocks along the foot of the cliff that are peeking up from the water as the tide moves out. So that’s something at least.

“Sir, the dash-cam of the squad car was left recording this whole time,” an agent says as they approach from inside the house with cautious steps, trying not to disturb the scene of broken glass and bloody carpet.

“And?” Jack glances back at him, waiting for the agent to elaborate on the importance of that information.

“We’re pulling the footage now. The car had been positioned to get a full view of the house on camera. If they left on foot we’ll have an idea as to which way they went at the very least.” The agent looks nervous, knowing the alternative to leaving would be falling from the cliff into the freezing water below. This time of year that’s most definitely a death sentence. And with blood loss and possibly severe injuries on top of the freezing cold? A man wouldn’t stand a chance.

Jack nods his understanding and holsters his gun at last as he looks again at the blood that’s covering the ground. Streaks and pools of it cover the spacious courtyard. More than could have come from Dolarhyde alone if he had to guess. He definitely injured Will and Hannibal in their struggle. The question is, was it fatal for them as well, or only Dolarhyde?

~~~~~

Hannibal gasps for breath as he finally feels sand beneath his feet.

The water is so bitterly cold that he can barely feel his own body, let alone Will’s where he drags it with him through the churning waves of stinging saltwater.

Will went unconscious as they feel from the cliff. Maybe even before that. Hannibal isn’t quite sure. What he is sure of, is that the nearest house is still half a mile down the beach from where they’ve come ashore. And FBI agents will be arriving at his beach-side home sooner than later most likely, leaving no time to waste.

With a pained hiss, he pulls Will’s prone form onto the shore with him. Laying him out in the frigid night air a moment before mustering what strength he can in his sluggishly numb extremities and hauling him up into a carry with much more difficulty than he cares to admit to himself. Then, he walks, Will’s head tucked under his chin in a way that lets the blood still flowing from his mouth run down and be absorbed by their clothes. Keeping him from choking on it.

The waterfront homes in the area are empty along this particular stretch of the Chesapeake this time of year. It is both a boon and a curse upon their fortunes, as the odds of them getting away are contingent on what he finds in the nearest dwelling.

Turning his head, Hannibal can see the cliff that his old summer home sits upon. Sees the faint light that comes from the courtyard to cast out into the dark bluish-black of the night. The breeze picks up, sending an uncontrollable shiver through him, and he turns away to continue the difficult trudge through the sand. Will is heavy in his arms. Breathing shallowly as he too shivers almost violently from the harsh bite of winter, it’s effects no doubt amplified by blood loss.

The cottage they come to is smaller than his own. Tucked back into trees that block it from the view of his own dwelling less than a mile away. There are wooden lounge chairs set out in the back yard where it faces the water, and he rests Will on his side on one before searching for a key or some other means of entering the dwelling with as little disturbance to their surroundings as possible. He would prefer not to break anything if at all possible. Too likely to draw attention if any agents wander through searching for them.

The moonlight makes his search easier than expected, as it gleams off the shiny metal of a hidden key tucked under the rocking chair he tips over by the front door. Taking care, he rips off a piece of cloth from his ruined shirt and uses it to take the key and unlock the door.

To his surprise, the electricity is on when he tries the light switch. He grabs Will from the cold of the outside and lays him down on the sheet-covered couch before he moves to turn on just enough lights to see by without making it obvious someone is in the home to any passersby. \

He finds the door to the furnace, thankful it’s a simple electric one with a power switch. He gets that running before going to retrieve Will from where he set him on the couch.

They’re both hypothermic. Soaked to the bone with their clothes frozen to their skin in places thanks to the harsh bite of the ocean breeze. And worse yet, they’re both still bleeding sluggish from their wounds.

So, Hannibal does the rational thing to help them both warm up quickly. He finds towels and what clean clothes he can that might fit either of them. Once they’re gathered, and with increasing difficulty, he picks Will up once again and sets him in the tub before turning on the shower as hot as it will go.

Will doesn’t so much as flinch at the feel of the almost scalding spray hitting him. Body still shaking from the cold in his unconscious state. Hannibal watches him a moment before kicking off his shoes and picking him up just enough to climb into the tub behind him.

It’s uncomfortable at best. Too small a space for two men of their size to really fit together. But discomfort is worth it as the warmth quickly starts to seep into both of their extremities. It burns fiercely as it does so. Nerves flaring back to life where they had been shut down from the cold in the on-setting hypothermia.

Hannibal finds he somewhat likes the sensation. It distracts him ever so slightly from the pain in his side where the bullet went clean through him. And from his worries for Will, whom he now holds a cloth to the face of to staunch the bleeding where he had been stabbed just below his right eye. The blade clearly went in at an angle. Going through the bones and down to come out the roof of his mouth.

They stay in the all-consuming warmth of the water until Will’s shivering completely stops and the room fills with so much steam that breathing becomes almost difficult.

That’s when Hannibal finally reaches out and shuts off the spray, much to the protest of his aching body. He wants more than anything to simply close his eyes and join Will in unconsciousness. But that would be foolish. And likely deadly to one, if not both, of them.

He leaves Will in the tub, curled on his side with his head propped on the edge, and drags himself out onto the cool tiled floor. His capability for focus and rational thought is dwindling. He knows he needs to act quickly. They’ve both lost far too much blood and need more than just a few cloths pressed to the wounds to stop the flow.

There’s a sewing kit in the small linen closet next to the bathroom door. That along with the first aid kit from under the sink provide him just enough supplies for what he needs.

He strips Will of his sodden clothes first. Assessing the wound on his shoulder as well as the one in his mouth. He doesn’t have the tools needed to close that one. But he has enough gauze to pack the side of Will’s mouth for now. He does so and then stitches his cheek quickly and efficiently before moving on to his shoulder.

When he’s done he does the same with himself. The entrance wound on his back is clearly one he can’t stitch himself, the angle is just too difficult even for someone uninjured to attempt, but the exit wound on his abdomen is one he can close himself. He does his best to apply a makeshift pressure bandage to his back before wrapping an ace bandage around his waist tightly. When Will wakes later he can talk him through stitching the wound on his back, but for now, the bandage will have to do.

Glancing down at Will from his place seated on the edge of the tub, Hannibal wonders if he will try to kill him upon waking. If he’ll try to turn him over to Jack Crawford like he’s planned to in the past. Based on how the evening turned, he doesn’t see that as likely. Not after the way Will looked at him. Held him close as they both stood soaked in blood in the brilliant moonlight.

He doesn’t dwell on that train of thought long. His body feels heavy with exhaustion. So he gets changed into a dry shirt and a pair of slacks he found before hauling Will out onto a towel on the bathroom floor. He would rather take him into one of the bedrooms, give him a more comfortable place to rest, but it’s just too difficult to move him any further. So he gets Will dried off as best he can before getting him into a soft t-shit and worn jeans that are a hair too big for him.

Feeling the last of his energy leaving him quickly, Hannibal drags himself over to the linen closet once more, pulls out a thick blanket he finds there, and drags it back over to Will. He shows no sign of waking any time soon, so he might as well try to make him comfortable here. If not for Will’s take then his own.

Hannibal does his best to get Will covered in the heavy duvet, his head resting on a towel as a makeshift pillow.

With a small smile at what he’s managed to accomplish despite his own injuries dragging him down, he collapses beside Will a moment later, one hand still holding the blanket as the world goes dark and unconsciousness takes him.

Read Chapter 2

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal x will #will x hannibal #will graham x hannibal lecter #Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham #angst #fluff #post canon #blood #hannibal lecter #will graham #murder husbands #we could be perfect one last night

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baepsaetan · 4 years

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Banner by @thebannershop

Summary: In a futuristic age where a person can be coded and inserted into a new body, the rich can live forever. Born to a wealthy family, Jin expects to live life at a lofty and uncaring height. His expectations go awry when his body is murdered and a small gang steals his ‘stack’ and resleeves him in a criminal. Thrust into a gritty, neon world far below his life as an immortal, where death can be Real, Jin will discover truths that challenge his perceptions and make him wonder what - if anything - immortality is worth.

Chapters: pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt.5, pt. 6, pt. 7

Genre: Altered Carbon Fusion, Science Fiction/Futuristic, Slow Burn, Smut, Angst, Murder Mystery

Warnings: Shifting PoVs (primarily Jin), minor character death, abuse, torture, gangs, drug addiction, drug use, references to depression, body dysphoria, animal death, swearing, smut in future chapters

Length: 7.4k

The gang he’s been kidnapped by apparently doesn’t own – or at least use – a car, not even a terrain-exclusive one, and they set off on foot from the little apartment complex the men live in. He doesn’t know what time it is, and the sky’s too clouded to give much of an indication, but it’s too light to be night. Mid-afternoon, maybe? There are a fair few people out, and they wind through a series of side streets, cutting by buildings that are tall but also sagging, as if the weight of keeping themselves and their hundreds of thousands of inhabitants upright for half a century or so is becoming too much. Jin considers running, or calling for help, but Jungkook had none-too-subtly shown him the pistol he’s carrying before they’d left, and he hasn’t put it away, either. Besides, when they break through the side roads into what seems to be a main street, Seokjin has other things to think about.

He’s lived in Triptych all his life, but it might be more accurate to say he’s lived in Glass Harbour, instead. The neighbourhood – built in the ocean a short way from Triptych’s shoreline – is of course isolated from the rest of the city, but Seokjin has never realized just how removed he’s been, too. He’s been outside of Glass Harbour plenty of times – even been to the Curve, where they clearly are, given the general disrepair and the lack of multileveled streets – but never without at least several guards and a friend or two, and never really on the streets, either. His family owns several hovercars that simply coast up to whatever place he wants to go; walking the pavement is for the poor.

Triptych is a sprawling city of towering steel and glass buildings, shining pathways of cable and artificial stone arching across various levels, letting citizens walk in the sky as they move through their lives. Far younger than the Bay Area, it is a city of technological advancement and drive, of lights and steel and laws written by a Meth chequebook.

The Curve is an exception to that rule. In the early days of its inception, Triptych had been built on what was essentially two hills, with a deep cleft between the pair. That inconvenience was offset by the location – close to the shore, and, more important for the three Meth families who founded the city, perfectly situated next to a wide ocean shelf on which they could begin to build their Glass Harbour. As the city grew, all soaring heights and chrome exteriors, the gap between the two hills was overwhelmed by the buildings going up on all sides. A deep dip in the urban landscape, it received less sunlight and fresh air than neighbouring districts, and so was forgotten by the Meths who poured money into construction and maintenance.

In a city devoted to worshipping the future, the Curve is a neighbourhood left in the past. There are no networks of raised walkways to direct people through the area. Everyone too poor to move elsewhere operates on one level: the ground.

And there are apparently plenty of those people. The trek through the narrow, pitted roads, Namjoon ahead and Jungkook behind, has revealed more citizens than Jin was even aware lived in Triptych. They have to push through several crowds, hassled people in impatient groups shuffling outside a building or at a transit stop, waiting for things and headed for places he can’t conceive. Even though it’s raining, a miserable shower that sinks straight through his sweater and makes things worse, almost no one has an umbrella, or even a hood. They just accept the rain.

In the same passive way, they accept the haze smearing across neon-bright signs set up far above their heads, the pollution distorting ads for any number of cheap looking products, most of which Seokjin can’t guess the purpose of. Everyone walks quickly, eyes down or on their companions, and accepts – or ignores, it is hard to see a difference – the constant noise of the advertisements. The disembodied voices fall down from the signs and the smog like the conversations of chain-smoking angels, never quite fully understood, too distorted to catch.

“Get a… Won’t regret the…”

“…seat in the back and…”

“…like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Buy now!”

The noise and lights and people crash over Seokjin with a weight that feels more physical than mental, and he guesses these people can’t even afford neural implants or ONIs. That must be why all of the ads are out in the open instead of transmitting into the ocular displays of specific consumers, targeted based on purchasing history and tendencies. He’s only experienced op ads once – no business would dare bother a Meth without permission, and he’d just tried it for fun, at Taehyung’s suggestion – but even that hectic mess of visual heckling had been less overwhelming than the blaring sounds and sights assaulting him now.

And then there’s the sheer struggle of getting where they need to be. Jin actually finds himself grateful for Namjoon. The pink haired man seems to have no issue cutting through the crowds, and, deliberately or otherwise, usually clears enough space for Jin to get through in the process. A few times it isn’t quite enough, and, unused to the broad-shouldered sleeve, Jin jostles against a passerby or two – with irritated responses – but without Namjoon, he probably would have drowned trying to get just a few steps, let alone miles.

When they finally slow, approaching the mouth of an alley off the main street, Jin’s feet are aching. The once white sneakers they gave him have seen better days, and they’re even worse now than when he put them on more than an hour ago; it feels like the three of them walked through enough trash and mud to build a small mountain on the way here, and his shoes reflect that. Namjoon and Jungkook had been oblivious, but he’d spent most of the trip trying (and failing) to navigate puddles, wrappers, cigarette butts and things he couldn’t identify and didn’t want to.

That, coupled with Jungkook almost literally breathing down his neck the entire time, gun in hand, and snickering whenever Jin slipped or winced or hesitated, has put him in a mood that could only charitably be called bad.

There’s also the whole being kidnapped and forced to return to the spot of his death thing.

“Will you stop that?” he demands when a foot knocks painfully against his heel for the umpteenth time, whipping around to glare at the (presumably) younger man. Jungkook puffs out his cheeks and smiles, a small overbite becoming evident with the little grin, and the innocent expression is infuriating.

No Meth would ever leave a defect like an overbite alone. So far as Seokjin is concerned, it screams poverty. And this drudge had the nerve to kick him! Repeatedly! And grin about it!

If the irritation boiling under his skin is any indication, he’s probably turning an unattractive shade of red, but before Seokjin can make what might be described as a mistake and take a swing at Jungkook, Namjoon intervenes. “Leave him alone, Kookie,” he orders. “Go watch the entrance, make sure no one’s going to start anything.”

Jin is dismally certain that the chances of that are low. He’d tried making eye contact with anyone even remotely respectable in appearance on their way here, some half-baked notion of escape in his head, but very few people even looked at him. Those that did were quick to look away, and he hadn’t been able to tell if that was the fault of the intimidating sleeve he’d been stuck in, or Jungkook looming over his shoulder and scowling, or something else altogether. Regardless, the small number of passersby who happen to glance into the alley all suddenly remember important engagements elsewhere and rush off, leaving Jin stranded.

Better to just bide his time. Or something that sounds similarly calm and planned and definitely not freaking out.

“So,” he says, looking around the alley, and falls silent. It’s certainly not a glamorous spot to die in, or even breathe in. Jin literally can’t imagine why he would have been here. There’s dirt and garbage on the ground, like a carpet of very dubious design that releases an odor he suspects hints at the more disgusting uses this alley has been put to. A bunch of graffiti is scrawled on the walls, senseless black and red scribbles splattered across the bricks like blood and ichor. Someone even rigged up a holographic bit of disruption, a horrifyingly grotesque man, rail thin and warped, who flickers into being (and scares the hell out of Jin) when they get close enough to activate its sensors. The image is deteriorating, pixels missing here and there, and the whole figure wavers in and out of existence erratically. However, that doesn’t stop the holographic from going through a series of obscene gestures, the least of which is giving viewers the finger.

Namjoon is staring at the wavering vandalism. “Do you know,” he asks suddenly, “how hard those are to make?”

“Ah…” The random question takes Jin off guard, and besides, graphics have never been one of his interests.

“It’s hard. Not if you have a computer program to do it all for you, but the program would cost too much for an individual to own.” His heavy eyes flick to Jin and then back to the figure. “Most individuals. So, someone built that, piece by piece, in some kind of limited process, and they did a decent job. It looks good.”

“Good,” Seokjin repeats doubtfully as he stares at the holographic, wondering if there’s something he’s missing about the distorted piece. Or maybe Namjoon’s just a nutcase.

“Not the subject, obviously,” snorts the nutcase in question. “But the skill is there. Good rendering, skin tones… The facial expressions are on point, too. Took time, took effort, took knowledge… and it’s sitting out here, in some random alleyway, just to fuck with whatever police were here to investigate your murder. See, the mechanism is latched in place? The police didn’t even bother to get rid of it, and since they’re not around anymore, it’s not getting seen by anyone.”

This doesn’t exactly feel like small talk, but if Namjoon is trying to make a point, it’s joining the advertisements prattling above Jin’s head, lost in the haze. He rolls his shoulders, impatient, and moves away from the holographic. A few seconds later it dies away. “Look, I got killed here and I don’t care about the quality of some stupid vandalism. You dragged me to this place, now tell me what’s next.”

Taking that with a mouth that twists a little, Namjoon pivots, points to a spot on the ground. It is conspicuously less filthy than any other spot. “You were found around there. This alley is a dead end, so the guy who killed you was probably close to the entrance when he did it… unless he was supposed to meet with you or set up an ambush or something. Just… try to picture it all. See if anything comes back.”

Compliant, if not exactly confident, Jin looks around more carefully, willing himself to ignore the unpleasantness and stench and focus on the specifics instead. He trails his fingers over the cinder blocks with only a slight grimace for what his touch smears through, studies each line and scuff in the grime at his feet. There are no windows opening up onto this alley, just featureless walls rising up on either side, blank and disinterested in the little drama taking place between them.

"When did I get shot?" he asks.

"From the police files we, uh, liberated, around two in the morning."

So, it was dark when it happened. If they're close to Ringwanderung – Jin can't be sure, he hasn't seen the building so far and he doesn't remember it's exact location from the last visit he can remember – the roads probably weren't deserted. People would have heard him if he screamed. But did he scream?

The rasp of the ground is rough against his fingertips, and when he pulls them away, they're blackened with dirt. Just a bit of dirt, no blood, even though this is the spot he died in. The police apparently did a good job cleaning up; if his faulty memories are at all accurate, he bled like his heart was trying to water the dry ground. But what else is there? Night time...

He's starting to feel strange again. Disconnected, although this time it's not the sleeve that he's floating away from. No, this time the body stays with him as he detaches from the present, forcing his mind into the treacherous, bleak path of the shadowed past. There's nothing there that's solid. It's disintegrated even more than the vandalism Namjoon was so intrigued by. He has – feelings. Impressions. Maybe-might-if-could-be's that float through his head and come apart when he tries to grab them. Words lost on the tip of his tongue.

He didn't scream. Jin is suddenly certain of that. He didn't scream for help, because the man – threatened something. Threatened someone? Someone – Jin loses it. But the man – in his mind, the man is the holographic, twisted and broken and ominous as he looms up in the darkness, with no solid features to nail in place. He veers in and out of focus, and his words are as intangible as his features. Something about – about wanting, about plans collapsing, about frustration and fear, about defiance, about no no no no you can't–

With a gasp, Seokjin shoves himself up from his crouch, staggers into the wall and stays there, needing the uncaring surface to keep him upright. His chest is aching, fear closing ghostly fingers around his throat, the sensation a faded pressure. This time Namjoon doesn't try to help, but neither does he rush Jin or demand an update. That makes it – easier – to get his breathing under control, but it does nothing to help the simmering pressure bubbling under his skin. He's clenching his jaw, he realizes numbly after a moment, and can't seem to get himself to relax as dissatisfaction upbraids his self-assurance.

All of that, and he still has – nothing. Absolutely nothing. A bunch of gibberish, even less useful than a holographic placed in the middle of nowhere.

He hits his fist against the wall he’s leaning against, more of a tap than a punch, but Namjoon’s eyebrows lift at the aggravated display. “I’m guessing that means you can’t remember anything important?”

“I’m trying,” he pants. “But this is just – garbage and more garbage. I can’t put anything together.”

“Tell me a bit about it.”

“What’s there to tell? I – I got threatened by the guy, I think, and he wanted something. I don’t know if I gave it to him.” Jin coughs, trying to clear a throat that’s gone dry. “Just to be clear, that’s all maybes. I don’t – I can’t tell if it’s real or not.”

“What did he want?”

It’s not purposeful – or at least, Jin’s pretty sure it’s not – but there’s something extremely aggravating about the other man’s persistence. “Yah! Are you deaf? I told you, I don’t know!”

Namjoon is silent for a moment, a muscle ticking in his jaw, before he turns away. "So, we're at more than one dead end," he comments, and though Jin catches an attempt at a smile at the corner of his mouth, he sounds dispirited. Not angry. Just… tired. Jin is surprised and relieved that his outburst hadn’t elicited a violent retaliation, but there’s something dimly reproachful keeping his throat tight as he follows the other man to the end of the alley. When Jungkook looks over inquiringly, Namjoon shakes his head.

"Let's go inside the Ring and see if there's anything we can pick up there." Passing a hand over his face, for a moment the pink-haired man doesn't follow his own command, just stands unmoving on the sidewalk. It lasts for all of two seconds, but it still makes discomfort sink seething hooks into Jin, somewhere low in his stomach. Obviously Namjoon is struggling to hold himself together, and that doesn't seem to speak well for Jin's immediate future. Or for any of their futures, actually. When he glances at Jungkook, the boy is biting at his lip and watching his leader from the corner of his eye, presumably just as concerned, albeit for entirely different reasons.

Dropping his hand, Namjoon gives himself a little shake. As though they were the ones dawdling, his voice sharpens as he snaps, "Let's go."

True to his capturers' words, the Ring is just a few buildings down, though the street curves sharply upward and had made it difficult to spot the sign from further down the way. The sign isn’t garish, which is surprising given how many eyesores Jin has seen on this street. Three neon rings surrounded by a fourth, all of them differing shades of blue, with Ringwanderung shot through them in a dark blue approaching black. The sign probably looks quite beautiful at night. The Ring itself is a squat building of modern black and grey angles, shorter by two or three floors than the ones on either side of it, but it's also wider than either of them. If Jin remembers correctly, it has several underground floors, too, where most of the drug dens and prostitute rooms are. Above ground, funny enough, was for above ground deals, like dancing, hanging out and eating, drinking alcohol and using some of the milder intoxicants available. Very PG 13.

There aren't all that many people frequenting the club when they enter the Ring, including security. That's not entirely a surprise, given the time, and Jin pauses just inside the entrance, letting his eyes adjust to the slightly dimmer setting while they scour the red and black couches scattered across the room. He's half-hoping he'll see a familiar face, someone to run to and beg for help – several of his friends, particularly Taehyung, like to come here, enjoying the establishment’s slight edges. Jin’s come to realize those are pretty laughable. What’s edgy about a building complete with a complement of security guards?

Although, now that he thinks about it... his friends might be wearing familiar faces, but he isn't. What would they do if some random stranger came up to them and started ranting about needing help?

Not react quickly enough to save him from being shot by Jungkook or Namjoon, Jin's pretty sure of that. Even Taehyung, with his special empathy implants, would probably take too long.

Both of his escorts are tenser in this closed setting, anyways. Somehow Jungkook manages to inch even closer to him than when they were walking, and Namjoon doesn't let the same amount of space grow between them as he leads the way through the lounge, deeper into the club. "Keep your head down," he mutters to Jin. "I don't want someone recognizing the sleeve."

Jin stops dead and hisses, “What do you mean, someone recognizing the sleeve?” Seconds later, as Namjoon regards him tight-lipped and silent, a horrified revelation stumbles into his mind. “You – I’m in – You put me in someone’s body illegally? Someone who lives here?”

“Now’s not the time to get into the details, Seokjin,” Namjoon says from between clenched teeth.

“Not the time!” His voice leaps like it’s trying to high-five the ceiling. “Where is – who is – how –” It hadn’t even remotely occurred to him that they might have put him in a sleeve with an owner who wasn’t either dead or locked away or had moved on from this sleeve. He’d just – Meths took their sleeves from others if they took a fancy to one, sure, but that was an exception, not the rule. Most of them were lab-created, or, if biologically based and from parents, at least genetically enhanced. The point being that they were new, and not… He’d known this was a used sleeve, the impulses proved that, but he hadn’t thought that the previous user might still be around! Or their friends!

Namjoon must see the alarm taking over Jin and tilting precariously towards a full-blown meltdown, because he steps closers, grabs Jin’s arm. “Relax, okay? I promise, we’ll fill you in on everything, but not right now.”

He stares wildly into Namjoon’s dark eyes, and they feel like locked doors with bright OPEN signs above them. A lie and a disappointment. “Just tell me. Are they dead? The person who had this sleeve… Did you kill them?”

The fingers wrapped around Seokjin’s arm tighten to the point of pain, but the other man doesn’t look away. Doesn’t hesitate when he says, “No. They’re not dead. Even if they deserve to be. We’ll talk about the rest later.”

Seokjin is released and his captor turns away, leaving a throbbing ache in Jin’s arm and a colder hurt in his chest. He doesn’t know if Namjoon is lying to get him to go along with this. Is that why this body is so bruised and battered? Because whoever had worn it before ‘deserved’ it?

“Like I said,” Namjoon tacks on, voice cool, “just keep your head down. Don’t look at anyone for too long. I don’t even think he went here that often, only a few times.” He starts to move away.

"A few times is a few times too many! Maybe you should have thought of that before?" Jin gripes, unmoving, sweat pouring down his back and making his shirt stick to his skin uncomfortably. The wary looks he darts at the club inhabitants don’t reveal anyone particularly interested, even despite his outburst, but he feels like a target’s been put on his back. "This face isn't exactly indiscrete. It practically begs for attention. You should have grabbed me a hat or something."

Jungkook shoves him in the back, the gun's barrel pressing a painful indent into his body, but that doesn't stop Jin from seeing the way Namjoon grimaces, his head falling, accepting the blame as yet another heavy burden.

The dance area is even emptier than the lounge, with only a few groups of people standing here and there, drinks in hand. The small cluster of booths off to the side are completely empty. A trio of girls are swaying slowly in the middle of the floor. They can't be dancing to the music – there's a quiet but fast electro-pop song playing in the background – and he can only assume by the relaxed way they move that they've been sampling some of the wares that the Ring offers. There's a bar at the back of the room that might sell such wares, a long counter with a bunch of stools manned by a sole crewman. He's not exactly the friendliest looking person Jin's ever seen, with a bristling black beard and eyebrows so thick they could have crawled down his chin and formed another beard. He’s also giving them a once over.

Apparently failing to notice those alarming traits, Namjoon heads straight for the counter. "Arven," he says warmly.

“Namjoon!” the bartender calls back, just as warmly. “If it isn’t the bulletproof boy. I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon.” When Jin moves to get closer, interested in spite of himself, Jungkook grabs his sweater, pulls him back with a warning look.

“They’re not talking about shit that concerns you, Meth,” Jungkook says. “Just some business deals. How ‘bout you just stand there and look good until they’re done? I bet you’re good at that.” The acerbic words sound a bit awkward, like the kid is trying them out for the first time, and after Jin stares at him for a few seconds, Jungkook flushes and looks away.

Jin mumbles, “I am good at looking good,” and yanks his sweater out of the other's grasp. Still uncomfortable, he scans the room, observation skipping over several people before he freezes. One of the girls on the dance floor, a red head in a floral green summer dress, is watching him, her gaze glassy, and he smiles nervously before looking away.

“Uh, Jungkook?” he whispers. “I think that girl recognizes me.”

“No, she doesn’t know…” The strangled way his guard’s words die might have been funny, if the girl wasn’t making her way over.

“What do I do!?”

“Get her to go away!”

“How?”

Jungkook doesn’t come up with anything before the girl is in hearing range, and a quick look at his wide, panicked eyes makes Jin suspect it would have taken awhile, anyways.

"Hey, Siwoo," the pale girl breathes in an uncomfortably familiar way when she halts in front of them. Her eyes trail across his face, noting the cuts and bruises, but she makes no comment. Is it the norm for this sleeve, or just not something you talk about in public? "It’s so weird to run into you now."

Jin casts a pleading look at Jungkook, but the young man just edges closer, hand under his coat and definitely cradling his gun. Seokjin doesn’t dare turn around enough to see if Namjoon has noticed their interaction, but surely he won’t be shot? If he can just fumble around and pretend to be who he’s not? And if he can’t? Is he – or the girl – going to be killed just because he can’t act like a thug? The unbidden thought sets his teeth on edge, and Jin tries to pull his face into something tough and removed.

"Uh, hey," he says, wondering if she's high enough to miss any discrepancies in his mannerisms. Her expression is spacey enough to give him hope. "I had something to pick up nearby, and I, uh, figured this place had a nice ring to it, you know? Hahaha." Her delicate brows furrow, button nose scrunching, and he thinks that maybe Siwoo doesn't use puns too often. Or maybe it was the way his laugh had spiked seventy octaves, nerves punting it up like a pro-kicker over a goalpost.

Before Jin can devolve into panic too much more, the perplexed expression dissolves, replaced by a knowing smile. "You picked up some of the new stuff from Kali, huh? Bet it's got you going." She steps closer, looking back at her friends suggestively. "If you shared some with us, I bet we could really keep you going, Siwoo."

"Ahaha..." His cheeks flaming red, Jin wonders if spontaneously combusting would destroy his stack, or just this sleeve. He also wonders what kind of guy Siwoo is, that girls are willing to make that kind of suggestion, and so boldly, too. The thought does nothing for his embarrassment. "I, uh, can't. Not this time. I’m meeting with, uh…"

A stroke of genius hits, sweeping away most of the mortification. Namjoon said that whoever this body belonged too, he deserved to be dead. Who else could that be, than one of the gang members targeting Namjoon’s group? If that were true… If this girl knows Siwoo, then maybe she knows something about that, too. And if he can find it out…

Jin slaps his forehead, thickens his voice further like he’s seriously intoxicated. “Damn… You know the one. He’s the guy who…” Jin leans closer, pitches his voice lower. “Well, you heard about that Meth that got murdered the other night? It’s the guy who offed him.”

She jerks back, alarmed even in her haze, and gives Jungkook a wary once over. Her voice lowers to a hiss. “Keep your voice down, Siwoo. Fuck, you’ve had too much if you’re talking about David. ‘Sides, that’s your guys’ business, not mine.”

“Yeah, yeah, David, sorry.” He tries to wave an airy hand, but it’s shaking too hard, so he runs it through his hair instead. The motion doesn’t do much to soothe his racing thoughts. “This shit I’m trying is just, uh, really heavy.” She nods slowly, but Jin doesn’t think she’s quite convinced. He tries a different tactic. “Actually, honestly, I’m just kind of pissed off. I heard David got a bunch of creds or something from getting that guy, and he isn’t sharing it with me. But I still gotta grab shit for him?”

As he hoped, the promise of gossip eases her a little, even as a confused frown slopes her mouth. “I heard it was a lot, too. Something big or something, everyone up top was freaking out. Someone said Rafa smiled when he heard. It’s weird he wouldn’t share, when I heard you’re the one who helped him out.” Jungkook moves, a sudden twitch, and she eyes him again. Jin could have kicked him in the shin. Abruptly losing interest, the girl shrugs. “Like I said, it’s not my business. Besides, you never introduced me to your… friend?” Jin stiffly nods. “Who is he? Have I seen you before?” That to Jungkook directly, and with her attention diverted, Jin is free to look at his guard, too.

He hadn’t realized it before, too engrossed in the pretence, but Jungkook might very well be having a heart attack. The kid is shaking and sweating, pink staining every visible patch of skin, and his head is ducked so low his chin might as well be fused to his throat. Jungkook stutters something that’s completely incomprehensible, before clearing his throat. In a very small voice, he says, “Probably. You probably saw me. I – I’ve been here before.”

Such a novel experience as his captor floundering should really be enjoyed, and Jin is spitefully ready to sit back and let Jungkook continue to struggle. It seems no more than justice.

Unfortunately, impatient or too drugged to hold on to a train of thought, the girl shrugs again, not even interested enough to get a name. “Alright. Anyways, Siwoo, are you going to the Meth party? I’ve never been to one and I hear it's going to be wild! Some of the other girls were invited last week, but since that Meth got messed up, not many of you guys are coming here to throw around party invitations. So far none of you assholes have asked me to go. Plus I doubt any Meths are gonna be sending out invites, either."

The girl is definitely working another angle, and Jin blinks rapidly, trying to keep up with the information. "The party? Uh, I haven't decided yet. It's... when is it again?"

"Christ, Siwoo, maybe you should lay off the stuff for awhile. I heard everyone from your group is invited. It's, what, a few months from now? Remember? If you feel like going, you should hit me up; I want a pass."

"A pass?"

"Duh. Not like the Meths are gonna let just anyone stroll into Glass Harbour, especially not at a party like that." The redhead rolls her eyes. “Can’t have people like us dragging in mud, right? I want to –” One of the girls still on the dancefloor calls out a name, Natasha, and she glances back. Her friends make beckoning gestures. Natasha waves at them and looks ruefully at Jin. “My friends are calling. I’ll see you later, okay? Anytime. Hope stuff works out with you and David… And seriously, let me know if you’re going? Or if you just want to hang out…” She trails away without another look at either of them.

Beside him, Jungkook inhales violently. Within a few seconds Namjoon arrives at their side, face calm but eyes demanding as they turn to Jungkook. The brown-haired man hurriedly says, “I think it’s fine. She’s a friend or something, not someone that knows this asshole is missing.”

“And Seokjin didn’t…” Try to clue her in, Jin assumes Namjoon is asking. He lifts his chin, outraged by the question.

“No,” Jungkook replies, “nothing like that. Actually, he – I think he pretty much fooled her.” His tone could not have been more grudging if he’d made a concerted effort, though before Jin can smile at the faint praise, Jungkook cuts that pretty short. “She was so high I think a pole with a face stuck on it might have fooled her, though.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know that while Jungkook was imitating the pole he just mentioned, I was finding out things! A lot of help you were, by the way,” Jin adds with a sour look at Jungkook. Yeah, he definitely prefers the kid flushing in embarrassment instead of wearing a smug grin. At least the former is cute instead of insufferable.

Namjoon forestalls anything either of them might have added. “You can tell me about it when we leave. I talked to Arven, mostly business, but I asked him about the murder, too.” As Jin begins to frown at that information, he continues. “Not about you specifically, just in an indirect way. He didn’t know much about it. Said something about an unusual amount of Meths coming here, and not just thirteenth sons and daughters, either, but even a few heads of houses.”

He looks so excited by the news that Jin feels a little bad to let him down. “That’s not that weird. There are trends, right? Ringwanderung has been gathering popularity for awhile now; it’s not odd that some of the heavy weights would eventually stop by. It’ll be a thing for a bit – maybe a while longer than usual, since I got, uh, since I died – and they’ll move on to other things.”

The way Namjoon’s shoulders slump is distracting enough for Jin to ignore Jungkook’s comment about flighty bastards. Hands hovering and waving awkwardly, Seokjin says, “Well, it might be important. Maybe it’s not a coincidence that I got hurt just when they started coming here.” It’s definitely a coincidence, so far as he’s concerned, but it’s nice to see the gang leader take a deep breath and straighten a little.

“Okay. Well – we’ll figure it out. I’m guessing being here hasn’t struck anything in your memory?”

Jin looks around the Ring. He remembers it well enough, but just from night and weekend sprees, hazy and splotched with drugs and alcohol. There’s nothing immediate about the memories, nothing that says he’s about to stumble onto a massive revelation. Hesitantly, wanting to give it his best try, he spends a few minutes wandering around, his two captors tailing him, but by the time they circle back to the dancefloor, he hasn’t found anything. He doesn’t really want to go downstairs, either, not with this company. After a few more silent seconds of observation, he shakes his head.

His companion sighs, but less heavily than the last time. “It’s time for us to go, then. This was a long shot, anyways, and the less time you’re in the open, the better.” When he gestures, Jin precedes him out of the dance area, leaving the pop music behind, with Jungkook trailing them both.

They enter into the lounge again, soft lights a distinct change from the darker illumination of the dancefloor, the private conversations a pleasant background noise. Jin tunes them out; he’s attempting to calculate what else he has to offer, since this trip has been essentially a bust. Was the Meth party significant? Who was hosting it? He can’t remember being invited to one recently, but that could be his amnesia in general, or maybe he just wasn’t friends or acquaintances with the host. The latter was admittedly much less likely – there weren’t all that many Meths, especially ones influential enough to host parties that normies could be invited to – but if the whole gang was invited, that had to be important, right? Only, what could it mean? What…

“Ah, we’re gonna find something tonight! I can feel it!”

“Sir, it’s barely the evening and we just got here. Besides, we’ve been here so many times in the last few days. What makes today different?”

“It’s a feeling! I’m absolutely positive someone here knows something.”

“…sir, you’ve tried already… Why don’t we just go home…?”

Jin’s concentrating so hard that it takes him a moment to realize that he knows both of the voices coming from a cluster of couches not far from them. When he gawks in that direction, he definitely recognizes the tousled head of dark brown hair just visible above the chair’s back.

A surge of relief hits him, thunderous comfort resonating through his nerves, so powerful that he stops dead and feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Without conscious decision, the name bursts from him, as natural as his own. “Taehyung!”

The gun that’s suddenly jammed against his spine, hard enough to make his mouth tighten in pain, is expected. After all, even as the word had left his lips, he’d regretted it, had wanted to pull it back and give himself time to think instead of showing his hand so early. He’d expected the consequences.

But he doesn’t expect the glacier cold voice that issues from behind him to belong to Namjoon.

“Put your head down, now,” demands the voice he hardly recognizes, and even as Taehyung stands up from the couch and turns their way, Seokjin complies, sets his stinging eyes on the red carpet at their feet. Namjoon snatches his arm, bodily forces him to sidestep away, and Jungkook casually paces in front of them, blocking Tae’s line of sight. “You say anything, you even breathe wrong, and you die. So does your friend,” Namjoon says quietly, his perfect enunciation of each word somehow more frightening than if he’d been shouting.

“What is it, sir?” asks Taehyung’s companion, and Jin knows it’s Drayton, the Kim family’s personal driver. Probably here to drag the man home on his father’s orders, but roped into whatever TaeTae is doing.

When Taehyung replies, he sounds miffed. “I thought I heard my name.”

“Really? I don’t think I…”

You did, Seokjin wants to scream, and he wants to cry too, because God, he’s been so alone, and Taehyung is right there. But a new terror is puncturing his lungs, making it hard to breathe, and this jagged fear has nothing to do with the pistol pressing into his back. It has to do with Taehyung’s curious, clever eyes, and the way he sees things that sometimes he shouldn’t, and the way he wants to help when he shouldn’t, too.

If Namjoon had been just a little slower – if Jin had been just a little louder – his friend would have seen him, maybe even recognized him. And Jin would have had just enough time to see something like bewildered joy bloom across Taehyung’s face before Taehyung, one of the best people he knows, was shot to death, and who cared if it was just a sleeve death? Jin is walking proof that the experience is a horrible one. And the possibility hadn’t even occurred to him until after the fact.

The thought makes him nauseous, literally nauseous, and Namjoon practically has to drag him through the lounge and outside. The air’s still stifling despite being outdoors, and when Seokjin looks up all he can see is buildings and grey haze. No sky to speak of. Yet somehow the rush of people is still present, going through their day as if they don’t have an ashen weight over their heads. It’s smothering and does nothing for the frenetic pounding in his chest or the queasiness in Jin’s stomach.

A harsh shove by Namjoon sets him into a stumbling walk, the gun falling away with his captors hemming him in on either side. After a few blocks, the pink-haired man asks tersely, “Do you think we’re being followed?”

Jungkook says, “I haven’t seen anyone. No… I don’t think so.” There’s a beat of silence between the three of them that’s so profound it almost blocks out the sounds of street traffic, the noisy chatter of the people they’re flowing through. Jungkook breaks it. “We shouldn’t have brought him. Or we should have made sure we had control of him. We shouldn’t –”

“I know, Jungkook. I know.”

Silence again, deep and miserable and difficult to walk in. Jin doesn’t know what to do, what to say. The constant fear that’s been lapping at his feet or swamping over his head is proving too much; his lips and fingertips are tingling, but Seokjin is numb to everything else. His feet slog through a sticky puddle of someone’s discarded drink without pause, and the clang of his foot hitting the mostly empty can doesn’t even make him glance down. It’s hard enough to just keep his legs moving.

They cover several more streets before Jungkook says, small and unhappy, “Sorry, hyung. I should have kept a closer watch, anyways. I got… distracted.”

“…Nah. S’not your fault. Just bad luck or something. Maybe we’re cursed.” It’s a joke that falls so flat it’s almost 2D, and when Jin’s eyes drift over to Namjoon’s tight face, the man doesn’t really look like he’s joking, anyways.

They’re off the main road now, passing through an industrial zone with cars lining both sides of the street, but few people are in sight among the clusters of squat, stained buildings. Jungkook kicks at the chain link fence they’re walking next to, making it rattle. “It’s not bad luck. It’s him. Why’d you have to go do something stupid like that, huh?” he abruptly demands of Jin.

Jin, grateful to be more or less ignored until now, hesitates to answer. Jungkook’s question isn’t even that mean, more frustrated than anything, but Seokjin can’t tear his gaze from the cracked pavement they’re walking over. Truth is, he’s been wondering the same thing himself. Had he really almost gotten Taehyung killed? All for – what? A second of relief that he wasn’t the only one in this horrible situation? He’d already concluded that no one could help, at least not quickly enough, but he’d called for his friend despite that.

What does that make him?

Once again, Namjoon intercedes on his behalf. Sort of. “It doesn’t matter now, Kookie. We got out without anyone important catching on. All’s well that ends well. A fairy-tale finish.” The bitterness is absolutely impossible to miss by the end, but when Jin risks a look, Namjoon isn’t directing the vitriol towards him. He’s wearing an indrawn expression, fine brows caving together, and Jin doesn’t think it’s the encounter with Taehyung that has him so upset. Or at least, that’s not the only thing.

Namjoon catches him watching, however, and his brows draw down even more. “Jungkook’s right, though. It was stupid. What did you think would happen?”

He waits to feel the sharp prick of defensiveness, but it doesn’t come. “I… I didn’t really think, it just… came out.”

The ice that was in Namjoon’s tone before has crept into his eyes when he says, “Next time – if there’s a next time – you have to think. Because I know this situation sucks, but I’m not risking my crew for a Meth who puts his mouth before his head again. Next time…”

“I get shot. I die. Yeah, I get it.” And he does. He really kind of does. So much so that it does nothing to the leaden mass sunk into every atom of his body.

The tight hollowness in his throat is only growing, a gaping emptiness that’s threatening to climb into his head and plummet into his chest. There’s regret, sure, regret for saying anything, regret for not saying enough, regret that he’s here at all, but the fear is a wrung-out towel, strangled and nearly dry. All Jin wants is to be somewhere else. It’s hard to look away from both Jungkook and Namjoon, since they’re on either side, so once again his gaze finds the ground.

Which is why Jin completely misses the woman, dressed in dark clothes with a black face mask, who suddenly steps out from behind one of the cars ahead of them. There’s a gun clutched in her hand. He misses the way she lifts up the weapon and aims – right at Jin.

He doesn’t miss the crack of the gun going off, though.

#namjin #namjin fanfic #my fanfic #namjoon x seokjin #member x member #seokjin #namjoon

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lonely-bored-writer · 5 years

Text

Casper High Ch. 4

Danny Fenton spends a lot of time in his room, according to his parents- yet in all honesty he often flies out the window to attend to other ghostly matters. If he wasn't busy fighting ghosts, he was busy catching up with school work, or talking to his best friends over the phone or computer. Nonetheless, this past week consisted of Danny spending smaller amounts of time doing his normal everyday routine, and instead spending time with a certain Winchester.

It reminded Danny of all things he missed about having his friends around to physically interact with. He had gotten so used to eating lunch alone, and spending all of his time consumed with other things, it was nice to have new things to do. To have someone spend hours doing absolutely nothing with but enjoying each others company nonetheless was a refreshing break from his usually chaotic life.

"Wait, so Sam believes in Phantom even if he hasn't seen him?"

'Maybe Sam has added a bit of complication to his life,' Danny thought, it was odd but not totally unwelcomed.'

"I don't know, maybe, Tuck. Something Mikey said to him a few days ago brought this interest out." Danny sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair. "He's spent some time doing research in the library."

"But every piece of evidence is gone right?" Manson asked, her attention being pulled from the black makeup she was applying, her back facing her computer screen so that the boys could see her face in the reflection of the large mirror in front of her. "I mean, everything with backing, damning evidence that could prove that Phantom isn't much more than a fable now."

"Well yeah, but we already know that some people believe the fairy tale stories still in the library." Tucker cut in before his raven-haired friend could respond. "We've got nothing to worry about Danny, it's like bigfoot, no one has hard proof- and any 'proof' is easily debunked."

"I guess you guys are right." Danny nodded, not able to shake the looming feeling that things wouldn't be that easy- nothing in his life ever truly was. "Anyways, how about we focus on the fact our Sammy has gotten a date."

"Ooooooh, that's what the make up is about? Must be a lucky girl." Tucker grinned, placing his chin on one palm, "Spill the beans, who is this chick."

"You're so lucky I'm hours away and you're safe from my boots right now." Sam glared, before continuing. "Her names Aino, and she transferred here a few months back. She's the one from the super glue incident in art class."

"I like her." Tucker stated, matter-of-fact. "You have my blessing."

"Well thank you dad, not that I asked." Sam rolled her amethyst eyes, leaning out of frame to fix her eyeliner, using a smaller mirror to help with precision.

"I like her name." Danny added, smiling at the groan it got from Sam, "Besides, anyone who can somehow sneak thirty pounds of super glue into a school is perfect for you in my book."

"She's actually planning to do something similar with pudding in a few weeks actually."

"Nooooooo!" Tucker dragged, pressing a hand to his chest. "Sam you have got to marry this girl, or I will."

"I'm sorry Tuck, but she's not into guys who have already been married to their PDAs." Sam shot back in a heartbeat, pulling a laugh from her friends. Moving back, she turned to the computer. "How'd I look?" Sam had changed some since she left Amity, if only to become more… Sam- that was the best way to explain it. Her short black hair only got shorter, before the left sided became shaved down to spite her parents, a few new piercing decorated her left ear lobe, and a brow piercing rested on her right brow. Her outfit was a simple black tank top, grey shorts, fishnets and an oversize army green jacket over it all, finished off with none other than her favorite pair of chained combat boots.

"Perfect."

"Goth, and intimidating."

"Just what I wanted." Sam grinned, running a hand through her hair.

"So, when do we meet this lucky lady?" Danny laughed at the glare Sam flashed the camera.

"This is our first date." Sam deadpanned, unblinking, already done with her friends shenanigans.

"Dude, that's not the right question." Tucker chastised, tapping the camera. "What you meant was when is the wedding."

"I'm gonna go now." Sam hissed, her camera going black before signing off.

"How much do you want to bet we meet Aino in a week." Tucker laughed along with Danny.

"I bet in three days." Danny grinned, glancing over at the time before sighing. "I have to go on patrol soon."

"Don't fret dude." Tucker sighed. "I've got to finish a last minute robotics paper. It's a pain."

"Good Luck." Danny smiled, before the two bid their goodbyes. With a sigh, the halfa pulled himself out of his computer chair and made his way to his window. Time for another night filled with flying around the town for hours.

It was two in the morning when Danny found himself wandering around the park as Fenton. He did this occasionally when he couldn't sleep even if it served best to try to sleep anyways. By this time the park was often completely deserted so it was interesting to find someone swinging nonchalantly on the swings bathed only in the moonlight... and their own glow.

The shiver that raked down his spine, and puff of soft blue air was enough to confirm this was a spirit. Based on the softness of the glow and the much more human-like skin was also a large indicator that this spirit had yet to fully manifest.

"Hey?" Danny called out softly, making his way over to the swings. His only response was a glance. Danny was able to make out the light pink eyes, and scarred cheek. "Wanna tell me why your here at this time of night in a park?" Danny asked, settling himself next to the spirit.

"Where else will I go?" The ghost asked, kicking his legs softly.

"Maybe to the Zone." Danny offered softly, swinging slightly as well. The confused look he got confirmed his suspicions. "You don't know what that is, do you?"

"Is it like Heaven?" The voice wavered and echoed softly, like it wasn't all there, which matched the ghost's appearance perfectly in an eerie way.

"Not quite. You can make your own little paradise though in the Zone." Danny smiled, looking up to the moon. "A hunter has his own hunting grounds, a scientist his own lab, a singer her own studio, whatever you want. Your imagination is your limit."

"What's your name?" The ghost whispered, staring at their feet.

"Danny, though most ghosts know me as Phantom or the 'Ghost Child'."

"Wait, you're Phantom?!" The spirit looked over shocked. "You aren't as mean as I heard you would be."

"Depends who you talk to." Danny chuckled. "But for the most part, I just try to keep the peace."

"What's your name?" Danny asked after a lull in the conversation.

"Ekon." The ghost, now identified, responded. "I'm not sure how long I've been a ghost if I'm being honest."

"It happens." Danny explained calmly. This ghost used to be a human and it was obviously nervous and unsure- being harsh would do nothing except possibly permanently scar the ghost for the rest of their eternity in the afterlife. "Some ghosts could be dead for years before their consciousness manifests."

"How can I go to the Zone?" Ekon asked suddenly, turning coral pink eyes to Danny.

"Just have to go through a portal." Danny offered a smile. "Lucky for you, I happen to have one in my basement."

"You're a lot nicer then I expected." Ekon spoke, a twinkle in his eyes. "When can you take me?"

Danny paused, running a quick mental check over how he was feeling. He was all caught up on his homework, and he doesn't feel tired…

"I can take you now." The spark of hope that filled the spirits face was worth missing sleep tonight.

Danny needs to stop missing sleep. After so many all-nighters, and the caffeine filled drinks that he often times consumed allowed his body to grow a tolerance against the heavenly beverages, not allowing him to take advantage of their effects anymore. The plus side was he forgot it was a weekend, and was able to sleep an extra two hours before his internal clock woke him. That and the smell of bacon.

"Morning honey, how did you sleep?" Maddie greeted her son with a kiss to the top of his hair, setting down a plate of waffles and bacon in front of him.

"Thanks mom." Danny smiled, just now realizing how hungry he was. That most likely had to do with the hours he spent in ghost form inside the Zone, settling Ekon in and creating an amiable friendship between the new ghost and Klemper. "I slept alright, you?"

"Not very much." Maddie admitted, sipping on a cup of coffee. "Your father's catching up on sleep, but we're one step away from a giant break through."

"Really? What about?" Danny stifled a yawn, popping a piece of bacon into his mouth and dousing a heaping serving of syrup on top of his waffles.

"Your father and I think we narrowed down to the exact component in ectoplasm that give ghosts their abilities." Maddie explained. "If we can separate that component, we could very well apply those abilities to absolutely anything."

"That would explain the ecto-dogs in the fridge." Danny supplied around a mouthful of waffle, pulling a laugh from his mother.

"Swallow first, then speak." Maddie reminded, getting a sheepish smile in response. "And yes, it even opens the possibility of humans being able to use such abilities."

"What-" Danny choked, coughing slightly before continuing. "Wouldn't that turn them into a ghost?"

"Not quite." Maddie shook her head, pausing slightly to put her thoughts in order. "The healing factors found in these specters can do wonders in medical advancement if we can place the exact component."

"Ah..." Danny trailed, eyes trained on his half eaten waffles. His mind mulling over the information he learned and wondering if it was a threat or not.

"Well, I'm off to join your dad in his nap." Maddie stood, dropping her mug in the sink. She continued after dropping another peck on her son. "I left a bit of cash on the coffee table in case you plan on going out."

"Sleep well mom, love you." Danny waited until he heard the faint 'I love you' before standing to leave. He did plan to meet with Sam Winchester at the nasty burger in a few hours. It didn't mean he had to stay in his house until then- he could walk around Amity for a bit before making his way over.

"Hey Sam." Danny greeted with a smile, sliding into the booth across from the taller teen. "Sorry I'm late, my dad dragged me into one of his experiments." Danny offered an apologetic smile. In reality Danny felt bad for lying to Sam, on his way there he was stopped by Cujo who was dragging around a scared Ghostwriter. That had been quite a chase.

"You're good, I actually hadn't noticed." Sam returned with a sheepish smile, closing his laptop.

"What's the distraction this time?" Danny asked, settling in his seat and stealing a fry from Sam's tray.

"Creative writing." Sam sighed, laying a hand on top of his computer. "Mr. Leedee comes back from leave tomorrow, and I complete forgot about his project. Given we are just coming up with an idea list, we get partners tomorrow."

"Ouch, projects are never fun. Throwing in partners? That just makes it worse." Danny responded. "What's the topic?"

"We're supposed to write a story based on a fable, or fairy-tale, or urban legend we know about."

"That shouldn't be too hard. There's tons to choose from." Danny offered, receiving a sheepish smile back.

"That's the point, there are so many." Danny couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him.

"What are your choices?" Danny asked, accepting the laptop as it was slid over to him. The raven haired teen's eyebrows furrowed at the list; the Winchester had only listened one fairy-tale while the rest seemed to be urban legends. "I'd say Hansel and Gretel. Less morbid then the rest." Danny deduced, sliding the laptop close.

"Well, let's hope my partner is fine with that." Sam offered back, before relaxing. A small silence passed between the two, the two teens taking in the food before them before conversation rose again. "Anything new?"

"Not really, I'm still waiting to hear about Sam's date with Aino."

"Sam had a date?" The youngest Winchester looked shocked.

"I didn't tell you?!"

"I never thought Sam would find someone to date in high school, especially with how you described her- nothing against her though anyways."

"Honestly, neither did Tuck and I." Danny laughed along with Sam, happy to see his new friend take an interest in his best friends. "So get this, Aino was the girl from this incident..."

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural writing prompts #superphantom #superphantom au #fanfiction #fandom #fanfiction.net #fanfic #Fandoms #danny #Danny Phantom #danny fenton #danny phantom fanfiction #Casper High

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butt3rnugg3t · 5 years

Text

Here Now

Summary: When things boil down, is it really worth throwing away all those years?

Pairings: Tom x Reader

A/N: Part 2 is here! I'm honestly super excited to see what you guys think about this part. The result of the last part honestly shocked me, I wasn't expecting many responses but you guys blew me out of the water. So I started the second part shortly after publishing the first, and here it is.

It had been four months, four long months for Tom. (Y/N) stayed strong and true to her word, staying out of the brunette brits life. He hadn't seen her since that day when he came home to find her packing up her things. However, just because he hadn't seen her didn't mean he hadn't heard about her. Harrison brought her up all the time, it had seemed that his best mate had become her replacement for Tom. Because every time he turned around it was,

“Nope, can't hang out today, (Y/N) and I have plans.”

or,

“You’ll never guess what (Y/N) just said,” sometimes he’d catch Haz laughing at his phone and instantly knew that it was the blondes new BFF.

All of this and his realization that he royally screwed up made him feel terrible. But knowing (Y/N) didn't want to see him, he dove into his relationship with Chrissy, into his work, anything to keep him busy. Anything to keep his mind off of her. And it worked, for the most part, though after a while he had to stop sleeping. Because he still dreamt of her, from the time he laid down and closed his eyes, just long enough to fall asleep. She still managed to seep into his mind. Consuming his every last thought with how he could have done things differently. So he stopped sleeping, only doing so when he was so exhausted he barely lasted long enough to hit the pillow.

He was never at home anymore, so Harrison didn't notice and Chrisy only cared enough to know if he was willing to get ‘it’ up at night. So for a while it worked, it worked well, the pain never subsided but he was content with having to endure it because he deserved it. He should have picked differently. It worked right up until Harrisons birthday came around. Of course, he had to go, they were best mates after all. But of course so was Haz and (Y/N). His plan worked so well until he had to see her.

_______________

It's amazing how different someone can look when you haven't seen them in a while, especially if you used to see them every day. She definitely looked different standing to the side, Jacobs' arm draped over her shoulders in a friendly manner. The very image made Tom feel worse, that used to be his job at social events. She never really liked unwanted attention, but she did like dressing up. This was very evident by the high heels and short black dress she was wearing. She honestly looked great, standing with their shared friends, laughing and joking along with the rest of them. It felt like he was outside, looking in on this perfect image. He missed so her much, the pain was unending. This sent him on a quest to find the only thing that could help him, alcohol.

Later on when most of the crowd had left, except for the close friend group, and Chrissy. Tom had invited an hour into drinking, needing a different distraction for tonight. The friends were all sat, comfortably in the living room, for the most part. (Y/N), who helped Haz set up the party, was trying to clean up some of the mess left in the living room. This only lead to her getting pulled down into the small space between said birthday boy and Jacob, making the girl giggle. Which only resulted in Tom snarling lightly into his drink and pull Chrissy into his side more.

“We should play a game,” Harrison suggested, taking a sip of his drink.

“Like what?” Zendaya asked from her spot on one of the many chairs, interest peaked.

“Quarters?” was his quick and questioning response. The only objections he got were from (Y/N) and Jacob about how they sucked at it, but they agreed to suffer cause it was his birthday after all.

________________

“I can't believe you!” came a shrill shriek from the kitchen.

The group had taken a break ten minutes ago a few of them claiming they were starting to not feel sick. Tom had gone to the kitchen, Chrissy trailing behind him like a lost puppy, nobody had heard a peep from her all night. She was too busy sucking and kissing on Tom’s neck to speak. So the loud shriek came completely unexpected to everyone else sitting only feet away from the open kitchen. Everyone got up and walked around to counter to find, Tom bent over holding his stomach, puke and the smell of it all over Chrissy’s black high heels.

(Y/N), as if only running off of instincts, immediately jumped into action.

“Harrison, Jacob, take him into the bathroom, sit him down next to the toilet and get out a few rags.” Both the boys nodded, following orders without objections. “Daya, if you could go into Toms room and grab a change of clothes for him. Sweats and a tee would be best,” the tall girl also nodded, adding on a short ‘of course’ before doing as she was asked.”Ok and Chrissy-”

“Nope, not happening, he ruined my heels. So whatever you wanted me to do its not happening.” The girl in front of (Y/N) had a very spoiled bitch looked about her. Long blonde hair, down and curled, the only thing covering up her self as she was wearing a very revealing dress. No doubt to try and get Tom’s attention. It was unsettling to admit, but she was actually pretty the whole outfit worked for her. Well, everything except the pile of Toms leftovers around her feet.

“Look just peel off the heel, leave them in the throw-up and you can go. You're obviously not gonna be any help.” (Y/N) was short and to the point, way to busy trying to get into the bathroom to help tom to worry about ‘little miss princess’s temper tantrum. Though apparently being blunt wasn't clear enough for her, as she continued to go off.

“You're kidding, right? I'm not leaving till I know Tom is gonna buy me a new pair of heels to replace these.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and turned away from her and walking into the bathroom. Harrison handed one of the rags out to her, which she gladly took, getting out some medicine for Tom and dampening the rag slightly. Moving to kneel down next to the sick boy, but stopped when the blonde also stepped into the bathroom, yelling still.

“He’s buying me a new pair of heels!” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, placing both the rag and medicine down on the counter before stepping over and dragging Chrissy out of the room.

“Damn it, Chrissy! Can’t you tell that he doesn't feel good?” (Y/N) asked, voice slightly raised gesturing back toward the boy knelt next to the toilet. “All your doing is starting stupid problems because you're not getting any attention. News flash sweetheart the world doesn't revolve around you and nobody in this house cares about your fucking shoes. So get the hell out of here and go home before I have to make you leave,” By now (Y/N) was almost chest to chest with the attention seeker, eyes glaring daggers at her. And Chrissy obeyed, scurrying down the hall and out the door.

With the nuisance out of the way, (Y/N) made her way back into the bathroom and cleaned up tom, having Harrison and Jacob get him changed and then had both boys then help carry him to his bed. After this and cleaning up the aftermath of everything, the house was left with only Harrison, (Y/N), and Tom.

“Are you sure you don't want to take my bed? I can sleep in here, but he doesn't really need a babysitter.” (Y/N) smiled softly, looking over at the boy on the bed fast asleep, and spoke quietly without moving her gaze.

“No,” her voice gentle, as if giving the word a different meaning. “No, I want to make sure he's gonna be ok,” Harrison glanced between her and his best lad, and he knew, he wasn't going to change her mind. So with a small knowing smile, he simply nodded and closed the door, plummeting the room in darkness. The only light coming in from the bedrooms windows, moonlight lit the room in a dreamy glow, casting what seemed to be the perfect effect. Tom looked beautiful, she missed him, deeply. The (e/c) eyed girl wiped away a stray tear and walked over to Toms sleek dresser. Then for the first time in four months, she stripped herself of her burdens, black skintight dress pooling around her feet. And put on the closest thing to her savior himself, Toms shirt filled her with butterflies. It slid over her comfortably, like hugging an old friend. It smelt of home and surrounded her with happy memories. She pulled her hair out of the small bun that had formed while she was kneeling in front of Tom in the bathroom. Letting her hair fall wildly around her, moving over to the sleeping boy carefully, shoes long forgotten in the sick scuffle only hours before. She pulled his comforter back over him where it belonged and moved to walk away when a hand found her wrist.

“Please stay,” The voice groggy and cautious. (Y/N) turned back to look at the boy a little surprised he had woken up. “With me please,” Even in the dark room, she could still make out his features perfectly, her eyes carefully trailing over the worried lines, dark circles, and new, slightly quivering lip. She knew what he was referring to, stay with him, not only in his room. In his bed and in his life forever again. Like how its supposed to be. She smiled sadly.

“If I do, will you sleep?” She gently reached out and cupped one cheek lightly, Tom leaned in almost instantly. He left one chaste kiss to her palm and nodded quickly, pulling her down gently onto the bed with him, under the covers. He didn't trust himself to speak knowing that all that would come out would be lost in sobs. She knew, she knows him better than anyone, of course, she knew. So she laid down, letting toms arms snake around her as he placed his head on her stomach carefully. This was a comfortable and familiar position for both of them, used whenever Tom was stressed, or vice-versa. And of course, she quickly found her fingers running through his brown curls.

(Y/N) held tom as he cried into her, holding her tightly. No words were spoken, none needed to be. This is what they needed, she laid there and kept him grounded, she was there, she wasn't leaving again. His best friend was there to stay.

@cherryblossomcharlotte @jessjesstotherescue @nerdy-bookworm-1998

#Tom Holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x yn #harrison osterfield #bestfriends #making up #birthday #party #drinking #ex girlfriends #trouble

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jungnoir · 6 years

Text

tulips;

⇢ summary: “tulips, the beautiful you. tulips, so lovable.”

⇢ relationship: lee donghyuck/reader, a bit of wong yukhei/reader but kinda not.

⇢ genre: barista!au, college!au, fluff, minor angst.

⇢ words: 9k

⇢ warnings: none!

a/n: inspired by a conversation with @goldenscript and also slightly by her rival baristas au!! happy birthday, baby girl~ music for this - tulips by snuper.

“Don’t you have to meet up with your boyfriend right about now?” The mischievous Lisa raises a brow from beside you, her russet hair brushing your skin with how little proximity she allowed when you walked together. You’d grown used to her need to be close to everyone she was around; despite the fact, her voice was very much amplified regardless of how close she was or how loud the environment was. You have to grip her elbow and squeeze to even get a reaction out of the girl, a squeak leaving her mouth followed by a laugh. “My circulation!”

“I’ll cut more off than your circulation if you keep yelling.” You hiss at her but there is no malice, just an undeniable amount of embarrassment at the mention of Donghyuck. It had gotten to the point where you didn’t even have to ask her to clarify who she meant, and if any of your other friends had done the same thing you still would have been well aware. You had never meant for it to get this far. Seriously.

Lisa snorts, “I’m not yelling! That was my inside voice,” she emphasizes this by speaking even louder this time, drawing several students’ attention her way and making you laugh into her shoulder, “and I know he’s probably anxiously waiting for you to arrive so he can take your order and make googly eyes at you while you try to look like you’re not making googly eyes at him.”

She widens her already large eyes to a comical level at you and makes a face that you assume is to mock your own. Your own eyes narrow, “Lisa, those long legs of yours make you look really good in a skirt but also make it super easy to shove you over, you know.”

Giggling nervously, Lisa moves away from you quickly and wraps her arms around her chest in a defensive stance. “Just saying... anyway, do you want a ride? I’m going by there to pick up Chaeyoung for our date.”

You grin at her and nudge her shoulder, “Date...?” “Not like that!” Her cheeks immediately go rosy, “but yeah, we’re going to an archery training course and then for pho afterward.”

Your walk with Lisa spills into the parking lot and you absentmindedly follow her on her way to her convertible, the taste of your favorite drink already gracing your taste buds, “Be careful or she might aim for your heart.”

Lisa spins quickly to scold you for teasing her but has nothing to say when you smirk. She knew just as well as you did that this was karma, and if anyone was more head over heels in like with someone, it was Lisa Manoban with Park Chaeyoung. It was actually pretty cute watching the usually cheeky girl become a blubbering mess in the face of her crush (and happened to produce a lot of really good blackmail in the process).

You grab the handle to the passenger door of her bright red car and wink, “So what were you saying about my “boyfriend”, future Mrs. Park?”

Quickly checking the time on your phone, you give Lisa a short “thanks” and part ways the minute she parks outside of the shop, trying not to look as eager as you feel the closer you get to the towering glass doors that separated you from your drink, and most importantly... Lee Donghyuck.

You had met Donghyuck two months ago at the beginning of the semester, when you’d realized that five classes were going to be the test of your sanity in your young life so far. Needing to cram for three different tests assigned not even halfway through the second week of school had you somewhat in a crisis. With your roommate being not the most helpful study partner and your friends already being too consumed in their own classes with no time to spare to help you, your last ditch attempt was to do the aesthetic thing to do and find a cute cafe to focus in. You hadn’t meant to stumble upon Donghyuck in a messy ponytail and yesterday’s sweatpants, but he didn’t pay any mind with his sunny disposition and glittering smile. You still remembered the moment you locked eyes with him over the counter after having double and triple checked that you hadn’t left any of your textbooks behind at your dorm. You still remembered when he smiled at once and his light voice caressed your ears with a “What can I get you today?”

You had been adamant about getting a strong black coffee that would be bitter enough to turn your will to steel and force you to finish your homework instead of procrastinating and falling into despair. However, the minute he looked at you with those honey eyes, you were spewing whatever BS that would come out just to fill the silence, “What do you recommend?”

Your question shocked him for all of three seconds before he perked up even more (if that was even possible), his hands flying around animatedly as he pointed at the faux chalkboard menus positioned above and behind his head, “Oh, all kinds of things! Drink wise, there’s this one called the Choco Supreme Mocha Frap that is loaded with espresso chips and whipped cream and chocolate syrup,” you swore his eyes sparkled as he described it, “but that one is ice cold. If you’re looking for something hot, I suggest the hot chocolate. Simple, a good amount of chocolate but not as much as the Choco Supreme Mocha Frap, and actually one of my favorites during the winter.”

“Then I’ll have that.” You said, not really thinking.

“The frap or hot cocoa?” He tilted his head to the side cutely, brown hair looking copper in the sunlight that beamed through the coffee shop windows.

“C...Cocoa.” You stuttered out, just managing to look away from his inquisitive gaze in lieu of taking out your money. He had smiled out of the corner of your eye and you were still glad to this day that you had been looking away, just in case his smile might’ve sent you flushed with legs of jelly on your way over to your table for the rest of the afternoon.

Once you’d handed him the money, he quickly glanced back behind him at an array of small desserts lining the other side of the counter, “Would you like a chocolate muffin to go with it?”

Boy, does this kid love chocolate or what?

You just shook your head no, “The cocoa will be sweet enough for me.”

A small, painfully adorable pout appeared on his lips and you suddenly took note of the several little moles dotted across his skin like kisses, “Worth a shot. It’ll be out in a minute. Can I have your name?”

You had prepared yourself to just disappear once he’d given you your change, so out of surprise, you blurt, “Why?”

He blinks, then laughs, and if you weren’t already embarrassingly smitten before, you definitely were now. The twinkling bells of his laughter made you fidget in place, suddenly very aware of how accusatory that sounded. Once he comes down from his amusement, he flutters his eyelashes at you, “Why? I need to know the name of the person I’m going to ask out on a date tonight.”

Despite how cleanly he had delivered the bad pick-up line, you couldn’t help but giggle out of your own volition in response, the sound of your own giggle causing a similar reaction to bubble out of the mystery barista’s mouth. “You have a sweet laugh,” he says nonchalantly, “I guess I better keep you laughing...?”

He holds out for your name, and this time you give it up without a fight. His nose scrunches as he repeats it back to himself, looking away for the first time as he repeats it under his breath, “Got it! I won’t forget you.” “But... what if I don’t come back?” You ask.

“Then you’ll be the one that got away.”

It hadn’t been that long since you’d first met the boy who you later learned was named Donghyuck, but it had felt like the two of you had been friends for years. The lame pick-up lines and shitty puns you two shared between each other when you’d come to get your cocoa fix (something he’d managed to get you hooked on against your will) had started to pile up. When you were stressed over homework or group projects with less-than-willing partners, you would find your solace in Donghyuck. He could make you laugh so hard your sides would be hurting the next day; after all, he had to keep true to his word.

Your friends had found you running off to the shop at all hours of the day, and after having learned Donghyuck’s schedule, you began to go exclusively during his shift just to see him and have some hot cocoa. It had become a thing that whenever you entered, no matter what Donghyuck was doing, Donghyuck would be in charge of taking care of your order. Some days, you’d come in for lunch and other days you would come in just to chat and run. Whatever the case might’ve been, everyone who worked at the cafe and every one of your friends were aware of the fact that you and Donghyuck were a duo never to be separated, never to be without the other. Your friendship began to span outside of the cafe walls when you’d learned he attended your university as well, and though you’d never seen him around on campus before, he had begun to make a habit out of trying to find you and vice versa. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to be greeted by an arm slung around your shoulder and Donghyuck asking you what you were doing later, even if he couldn’t participate.

The coffee shop was your playground though, the sacred place in which you and Donghyuck could slack off on homework and work work in the back and talk about any and everything. He’d run before his manager would notice he wasn’t on duty, and would reserve his breaks for when you’d show. He’d always claim that the shop was far too boring when you weren’t around, and you would claim that the only reason you came back was for the hot cocoa (it wasn’t, and so many people knew it too).

It almost felt cheapening to say that Donghyuck was “just a friend”. Did just-friends make those eyes at each other all the time? Did they smile coyly at each other to give away an unbidden promise of more in between the lines? Did just-friends squirm at the mere idea of only being that: friends? No, certainly not, but no one was confirming anything more any time soon. Timing, he’d claim. Reassurance, you’d reason.

You’d always thought it pretty harsh for Lisa to tell you that dating was “first-come, first-serve”. Sometimes, coming to her for dating advice was like getting teeth pulled; you never knew what impulsive, exciting thing she’d tell you to do if you so much as mentioned a crush or potential partner. The worst thing was the guilt you’d feel after hearing her advice. A worry unlike any other would envelop your insides and make you feel a little seasick at the thought that “you’ll never know if you don’t try”.

Was it wrong for you to not mind taking it slow, seeing where things with Donghyuck might lead? Was it so terrible that you liked the easiness between you and wanted that easiness to last? Possibly... in her eyes. Possibly in your eyes too.

If there was anything you knew best about life, it was that nothing easy lasted.

It didn’t register that you’d been staring too long at the entrance to the coffee shop until someone walking past gave you a questioning glance. It read very clearly to you that you might look a bit strange just standing there, not moving, so you quickly push yourself into gear and settle on ignoring your heavy feelings. After all, this was just another casual meeting with Donghyuck. In fact, you were sure the minute you saw him, you’d feel at ease once more.

Only, when you enter, he is not there like usual.

You stand off to the side, diligently scanning the entire cafe, but no copper-headed firecracker was in sight. It was so unlike him not to be here; maybe you were too used to his presence, never once thinking about him having to take a sick day or day off because he was such a constant. The shop surely didn’t have the same aura it usually did without him, and maybe you might have picked up on that outside if you weren’t so spaced out today.

No, the shop didn’t have the same aura. Instead of missing anything however, it seemed to have gained something else in its place. And that something was currently inviting you over with a smirk that neither teetered on smug nor cheesy.

You’d never seen this one before.

You’re momentarily shocked by your height difference, and then you’re even more shocked when the person standing in Donghyuck’s usual spot speaks up without a care in the world, “Well, hello there. Can I get you anything?”

He’s relaxed, terribly in his element despite the fact that you’re almost certain he hasn’t been here before today as an employee. You’re sure you’d never miss someone like him, and you’d been here at all times of the day. You’d never seen anyone on shift like him. There was no way you could forget a face and aura like this guy’s, not in the slightest. You also find you’re not very displeased by this new discovery.

Sauntering over on auto-pilot, you look from his eyes to his folded arms as he leans down to rest them on the counter, the sleeves of his baby yellow sweater rolled up past his elbows to reveal honey skin. His fingers poke out and you see the glitter of several metal bands sitting above his knuckles. Drawn by the sheer broadness of his shoulders and the features of his face that dare you to try and ignore them, you completely brush over his question to ask the most pressing one in your mind, “Who are you?”

While someone else might have been turned off by this, confused at most, the guy just laughs. He has a cute, high pitch to his laugh that faintly reminds you of Donghyuck, but when he speaks, his voice is low and scratchy, “You asked me that like I’m in trouble... I’m not, am I?”

Not yet, maybe. You’d make up your mind once you figured out why Donghyuck was missing and why this giraffe-like boy was in his place. “No... it’s just... I’m used to someone else being here around this time.”

The boy hums in understanding, smirk forming into a pensive line instead. He seems to seriously consider your statement before suddenly unfolding one arm and snapping his fingers, “Is the person you’re looking for like way smaller than me? Round face, tanned skin, kinda excitable?”

You let out a small laugh at the description, finding that Donghyuck fits it quite well in reality. You nod, “That’s the one. Answers to Donghyuck, as well.”

The boy flashes his pearly whites at you. He straightens his back, places one hand on the counter (you try to keep your eyes from rolling out of their sockets when the expanse of his fingers splayed out before you takes up more space than a plate), and then answers, “I took his shift so he’s got a new one. Quite last minute but... I was also a last minute hire.”

Ah, so that’s why you’d never seen him.

Your look of understanding also comes with an underlying relief. So he wasn’t gone like you’d been quietly dreading, not completely. He was just working another time... but once the relief had passed, then slight disappointment arose. Why, if it was just like routine that you’d both meet here everyday, didn’t he let you know he was working a different time? You got it was last minute, but a quick text would- no, you weren’t going to get legitimately upset over something as small as this. He probably didn’t have time. You weren’t the only one in college, and it sure as hell wasn’t like the semester wasn’t diving into full swing by now. He probably had more on his plate than he let on, and maybe the new time allowed him better working around his class schedule.

Whatever the reason he hadn’t told you, it didn’t matter. You were here now... you’d see him later, surely.

“Do you still want to know who I am, or has this magical genie granted all your wishes already?” He asks, a bit of anticipation in his words. He wanted you to ask, for reasons you weren’t... privy to, not yet.

It couldn’t hurt, right? Donghyuck or not, this was still your usual break time. “I’m sure the genie could cough up a name.”

He grins again, and my god was it infectious, “You can call me Yukhei. ‘The guy who stole Donghyuck’s shift’ might be a mouthful.”

“Yukhei,” his name rolls off your tongue experimentally as you chance a glance at the boy in question to see if you said it right; he nods at you in confirmation, eyes flashing minutely when he hears you say it, “nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N).”

Yukhei looks away from you, sighing your name once, then twice, then several times one after the other like a tongue-twister. He locks eyes with you when he utters it one last time, “Said it right?” Something about his smile tells you that he’s certain he has, but he asks anyway. The tease.

You raise your chin at him and mirror his smile, “Yeah, perfectly.”

Yukhei seems ready to say something else. His lips part and a sound barely gets past his lips before he notices a new customer rounding up behind you, looking a bit impatient when he observes that both you and Yukhei seem to be deep in friendly conversation and not actual business. Not wanting to get scolded on his first day, Yukhei shoots you an apologetic smile and nods subtly at the person behind you, “Anything else for you?”

You catch on quick. You rattle off your usual order and watch as he inputs it on his computer before turning to you to take your money. The exchange of payment is over in seconds, your fingers brushing the cool rings around his fingers and sending a spark of something across your skin. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek as he tells you your order will be out soon, barely prepared for the wink he sends your way before turning his full attention onto the customer behind you. You take your cue to move to the side, all the while catching your breath that you were unaware you had been straining to breathe in the process of talking to Yukhei.

Normally, you were only relaxed like this with Donghyuck. In fact, the two of you had hit it off so quickly that you’d never thought you’d do so with anyone else. Yukhei’s energy was similar to Donghyuck’s, but something told them apart to you. It was small and you hadn’t a clue what it was, but it was big enough to be perceptible by you.

Talking to Yukhei had dulled your disappointment in not seeing Donghyuck today, but that feeling came back tenfold the minute you moved away from the register. Because, even if Yukhei was entertaining to talk to, he wasn’t... Donghyuck.

You slip your phone out of your pocket and into your hand. There’s no messages from him.

You’re tempted to send him one when you hear Yukhei call your name. Blinking out of your daze to face him, he holds out your drink and winks at you, “Come back here at seven. Donghyuck.” And then the “genie” is back to work, even your silent wish granted.

“Before you get mad, I was neck-deep in midterms today and didn’t get a chance to tell you. Please don’t injure me.”

Donghyuck grimaces when you enter the shop with a slight sharpness to your stare. It wasn’t usually your thing to come here so late into the day, the sun on the horizon but not quite gone yet, so the atmosphere feels a lot sleepier, but calmer nonetheless. You appreciate the feeling in comparison to the hectic-ness of the afternoon when everyone and their mother was crowded inside the shop with the collective patience spanning the length of a string of pasta.

You raise an eyebrow but do nothing of the sort, motioning for him to follow you to your usual table. You watch him call for break, his fellow co-worker (Doyoung was his name, you’d met a few times before) scoffing from his spot across the shop, slouched deep in a booth with his phone pressed up close to his face as if to say “don’t bother me”.

Donghyuck is sitting across from you minutes later, “You’re not mad? I felt really bad, you know.” He turns on the puppy-dog eyes as soon as he says so, fluttering eyelashes on full display.

As endearing as the show of cuteness is (and as disarming as it is, as well), you still feign upset with him, some of it actually real, “I was hurt, Lee. Real hurt.”

Donghyuck whines and shuffles in his seat, practically throwing himself over the table to get up all in your space. Bottom lip jutted out comically, Donghyuck is doing the most, “I was gonna make it up to you by buying you dinner during my new shift!”

Your ears perk up at this, “Was?” “Am,” He corrects, slipping back into his seat tentatively, “am buying you dinner. What would you like? It’s all on me.”

Donghyuck dresses differently in the evening shift. While usually, you’d catch him in a sweater not too different in comparison to Yukhei’s, he had went for a graphic tee sporting a nerdy pun that you didn’t get. Donghyuck’s bright personality almost didn’t fit in the atmosphere, what with the day winding down and the customers sticking to dark, muted colors in their attire and makeup. It was poetic and calm; you had to admit that the cafe felt much better to be in when it wasn’t that busy and wasn’t that early.

You fix him with your stare only a few moments longer before breaking out into a smile. Donghyuck’s shoulders immediately fall in gratitude of your mercy, his head slumping forward while quiet, whispered tales of thanks flew out of his mouth so fast you wondered how he didn’t stumble over a word. Then, he shot his head back up at you and met your smile with his own, “So, you missed me, huh?”

Your smile contorts into an expression of mild annoyance, your foot rising and hitting Donghyuck lightly in the shin. He bites his lip to ignore the pain, but keeps that same giddy look on. He’s absolutely beaming at the thought that you had missed him. Had actually felt upset that he wasn’t there today when you thought he would be. You cared enough to crave his presence. “I was mad that you weren’t there to give me your friends and family discount, actually.”

Donghyuck is already on cloud nine and your sarcasm doesn’t tug him off any time soon, “You missed me. Don’t worry, I think you’ll like this time of day much better than the afternoons. Thank god for new meat.”

At the mention of new meat, Yukhei flashes back in your mind, “Oh, yeah, speaking of... that Yukhei guy sure is something.”

Donghyuck blinks, laughs, then shrugs his shoulders, “I guess. If by ‘something’ you mean a lifesaver for taking up the hell shift.”

“Well, yeah. But he’s also really nice and friendly! I was surprised by how cool he looked on his first day, you know? We both remember Mark on his first day.” “Mark has been a ball of nerves since birth so he’s an outlier to that rule, but still,” plucking the salt shaker from the little basket off to the side of the table, Donghyuck begins rubbing the glass container between the palms of his hands at a slow speed, “some people are just made for retail.”

You chuckle, “He sure seemed it.”

Donghyuck reaches across and before you know it, he’s tapped your nose with the pad of his finger. You do nothing but stare at his offending appendage, dangling above your skin for a minute before he yanks it back to his body (because he knows better than to leave any part of him in biting distance when he’s invaded your personal space like that), “Hey,” he starts, “how can you talk about another barista in front of me?”

If you didn’t know better, you’d think Donghyuck was mildly jealous with the way his voice bordered on a whine. You had always been kind and friendly to the other baristas you met at the cafe or who Donghyuck introduced you to on campus, but he had never had a problem with that much. You’d ask about them in conversation, talk to them in class, wave to them when passing. Donghyuck had never had a problem with that. He had even encouraged it, wanting you to know everyone in his life.

It was only Yukhei, then? Maybe because he was new to the both of you. A stranger who had suddenly walked into your lives and Donghyuck hadn’t had a chance to get a reading on him yet, not before you. That seemed most logical in this situation to you.

You raise an eyebrow, “Wasn’t I promised dinner?”

Donghyuck seems to remember his promise he’d made only minutes ago at the same time as you. Instead of prying about Yukhei more, Donghyuck shuffles out of his seat and mumbles something about retrieving your menus before you’re left completely alone at your table. Your eyes can’t help but follow the boy on his way to the counter, your curiosity misting over your expression in the form of squinted eyes and a twisted lip. You don’t know what it is about him today that’s throwing you off, but this is seriously throwing a wrench in your usual routine.

Regardless, you’re able to push away those thoughts as Donghyuck and you both order something to eat (his choice being light, seeing as he’d have to get back to work soon) and begin to catch up what you’d missed throughout the day. Usually, you both would catch up on only so much in the afternoon before texting about it later, but having gone without talking to him for almost a whole day, he’s overflowing with even more to say. Part of you actually prefers hearing his long-winded days described in grand hand gestures and bulging eyes and impersonations of everyone that he’d come across on campus.

Were you a stranger on the outside looking in, you’d think that you and Donghyuck went to different schools and lived totally different lives. He always had some funny story to tell or exciting event going on in his life and you often wondered if you just didn’t get out enough. Maybe it was the difference in majors? It took you a while to learn that it wasn’t that your lives were so vastly opposite each other. Your lives were practically the same, only, Donghyuck had such a rosy outlook on it that changed what you viewed as the simply mundane drastically.

Your dinner ends quickly, Donghyuck having to finish up his shift when a couple of night owls make their way into the cafe. You take your leftovers and bid him farewell, and soon you’re back home as per usual. The times may have changed, but Donghyuck is still very much an important part of your day. Tomorrow will be just like normal again, you’re certain.

You have to remind yourself not to be so spooked when you see Yukhei in Donghyuck’s place again, in a baby blue button up. He doesn’t have nearly as many rings on today as he did yesterday, but there’s still a few that glitter in the sunlight as he waves to patrons he’d seen yesterday, faces memorized already. You are no exception, catching his attention and immediately making him perk up when you approach the register, “Same as yesterday?” He inquires. If he remembers, you would really applaud him.

You affirm it, impressed when he doesn’t ask you to clarify, and then you add on a small bowl of soup on the side because your breakfast hadn’t quite stuck to your ribs like you’d wanted it to. Yukhei has no trouble ringing about that exact order, but he moves a little slowly as there aren’t many customers around at the moment. “I’m surprised you can remember faces and orders after only one day.” You tell him, leaning to the side as he begins to prepare your drink while finishing up processing the order. You slide your card to him and he thanks you under his breath.

“I’m really good with that when I wanna be. To be honest though, I only remember your order because you left the best impression.” He puffs up in pride when you snort, but nevertheless laugh, in amusement. “What? I speak truth.”

“Do you? I couldn’t have been the most memorable part of your shift yesterday.” You combat his “truth” with something more believable; even a boy as evidently friendly as he couldn’t bother to remember such a minute detail, right?

Yukhei shakes his head like he can’t believe you, sliding your card and a receipt back to you once the price has been paid, “You underestimate how memorable you are.”

What was with this coffee shop and handsome boys flirting with you? Sheesh.

Instead of answering (because you don’t have confidence you’ll get many coherent words out anyway), you slip to the side and wait patiently as he gets to work on your drink, putting in an order for your soup at the same time. Figuring it’ll be a while, you turn and begin to make your way to your table... but someone is already there.

With sunglasses too big for his face and shoulders hunched over to somehow disguise him, Donghyuck stares directly at you with a small pout on his face before whispering for you to come over. Surprised, and a little worried, you do as you’re told.

The boy is dragging down his glasses to stare at you over them, his eyes squinted in suspicion, “You two are awfully chummy.”

You look over at Yukhei for confirmation that yes, that’s what Donghyuck is referring to, “Are you- what are you doing in those ridiculous glasses, Hyuck?”

Donghyuck scowls, “They’re not ridiculous, they’re Doyoung’s hangover glasses I stole from his car when he drove me home last night. And as for what I’m doing... I’m scoping out the fresh meat.”

“So... spying on Yukhei.”

“It’s not spying! I’m doing this for the good of the cafe! I can’t have some kid smearing my months of hard work and dedication and ruining my regulars’ days, sorry not sorry.”

“Seems more plausible that you came to see me, actually. Worried I might prefer Yukhei more?”

Donghyuck looks seriously offended that you’d even insinuate such a thing. He reaches over to flick your forehead but you’re quicker, smacking his hand back to the table before he can inflict any pain on you. He hisses at your hard hit, muttering about how heavy-handed you are. As silly as the glasses are on him (and it’s much funnier to talk to him like this, really), you reach over this time to slip them off. Donghyuck flinches when he thinks you’re about to deliver a blow to the middle of his forehead only to feel the bulky glasses slip away from their spot perched on his nose and into your waiting hands. You fold them up and slide them back to him, smiling sweetly, “You look a lot better like that.”

Donghyuck, lightly flushing, raises his shoulder to shield his expression from you. “I didn’t by the way,” he grumbles, “come to see you, I mean. This is strictly surveillance.”

You nod, not buying it at all, “Wanna share my drink with me?”

Donghyuck flushes even deeper, dropping his shoulder in surprise to show his cheeks gleaming strawberry on display. When you giggle right after, he knows you’d only said it to fluster him. Lightly kicking your shin under the table like you’d done the night before, he manages to get you to shut up at least a little.

When Yukhei calls you over to retrieve your order, Donghyuck watches you walk over with slight contempt. It wasn’t that he was jealous - no, far from it - it was just a little easier to fool himself into believing that you didn’t just come to the cafe because it was convenient and nearby, but that you also enjoyed his company too. After all, it had become very much a part of his everyday just like it had become a part of yours... and he hoped you thought of the time you got to spend with each other as highly as he did.

You two had formed a friendship over the few months that it took for you to get used to each other, and he was grateful that when he got the chance to see you outside of the shop he could. He was also grateful for the constant streams of texts between the two of you day in and day out, but he wished so greatly that maybe one day it could be something more than that.

His friends had inquired time and time again why he hadn’t taken that next step, that tentative leap from friends to something more. The opportunities were there, sure, but his confidence was a long way behind him.

Would you even want something like that with him? Wasn’t he just someone you knew? Someone on campus to talk to? Someone to fill your dull breaks at the cafe with a little life and laughter? Wasn’t he just temporary?

You float back over before he can clear his grim look off his face. Soup and drink in hand, you squint at his dejected look and wonder what in the world could have happened between you getting up to approach the counter not fifteen feet away and your return that could make him look that down all of a sudden.

“Hyuck?” You call his nickname in a delicate voice, sparking him out of his little stupor. The boy in question blinks up at you. “Something the matter?”

“Hm... me? No, nothing. Just... thinking about how we’re gonna have to extend this observation into tomorrow. Looks like there’s no strong evidence here for his case.” Donghyuck clears his throat and steals your drink while you’re busy blowing on your spoonful of soup, taking a long drag through the straw that has you dropping your spoon in awe.

“I asked if you wanted to share not steal!”

Yukhei watches from his perch at the counter, inquisitive eyes finding you and Donghyuck when he wasn’t serving customers. He can see you trying to wrestle your drink out of Donghyuck’s hand and pretty much failing with the table as a barrier, but that’s only before you get up and try to tackle it out of him. He knows that with anyone else, he might have been concerned, if not incredibly proactive in getting you two to settle down before scaring off the customers, but all he can do is smile knowingly. He wasn’t just observant with customers and coffee after all.

Your “stake-out” with Donghyuck doesn’t last just until the next day. No, it lasts for fourteen days more.

With the weekends excluded, Donghyuck is popping up at the cafe same time everyday, sharing something small with you sometimes and something a little fuller other times while you both “observe” Yukhei’s work ethic. You would argue that most of it was just the two of you talking and him showing you memes while you try not to choke on your sandwich, but he world argue that he had one eye for you and one eye for Yukhei. He could multitask. You just enjoyed his company.

Lisa had shared her thoughts on the matter, that of which you completely brushed aside because she still referred to Donghyuck as your boyfriend. In fact, that was probably the only reason the two hadn’t met yet. You were worried she’d say something too secret and then spoil your whole dynamic with Hyuck. That, and you were seriously troubled by the thought that the two of them set free together might literally implode your city. But mainly just the former.

The matter of what you were doing for your birthday didn’t rear its ugly head to you until a few days prior when Donghyuck, out of the blue, decided to ask you what you were doing for the big day.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, “probably nothing. It’s just another day.”

Donghyuck, ever the party person, scoffed. Today, he was sharing a steaming plate of nachos with you while chopping the jalapenos in half with a tortilla chip. Yukhei had definitely gotten into his groove here in the time allotted. Sometimes, he’d switch between the register and fluttering around the cafe to personally serve drinks and the like, so you would sometimes get him assigned to your table (much to Donghyuck’s chagrin at first. you had claimed it gave him a much more up close and personal observation, though. he claimed you just liked the way Yukhei’s arms flexed when holding a tray of food. you didn’t fight him on that).

“You’re at least going to dinner, right?” He prods.

“What’s this about dinner? Are you finally going somewhere else for a date? And here I thought Hyuck was just a cheapskate.” Yukhei appears next to you out of nowhere, one cup of steaming hot cocoa for Donghyuck and another cup of the same for you. Yukhei’s piled more marshmallows on your cup just to get on his bad side, Donghyuck just knows it.

The pair of you snap your heads to a grinning Yukhei who dusts his hands off on his apron, “No!” You both say at the same time.

“Sounds like a lie. Anyway, what are we doing for your birthday, (Y/N)?” Yukhei turns his full attention to you, genuinely curious. You’re not sure if he’d actually overhead the whole conversation or if he really just remembered it was coming up, but regardless, you were a little too stunned to answer right away. You hadn’t expected either of them being very interested in your birthday, other than knowing to wish you one on the day of and maybe dish out a little something to give you for managing to stay alive this long.

“I already asked that...” Donghyuck grunts.

Honestly, you hadn’t planned much at all for your birthday. You expected to spend it with your family. Maybe you’d get a cake. Maybe you’d ask for something. Really, it was just another day to you at this point. It didn’t really matter if you had a big party or not. You just wanted to be surrounded by the people you loved. You know what...

“I just want to be with the people I care about. That’s all I want for my birthday.”

The two boys look at you, perplexed. They’d honestly been hoping for something along the lines of Chuck E. Cheese’s. That’d be easier to ask to be invited to.

You interpret their loss for words as judgment and sigh, “Sorry it’s not a party or something.”

“That’s not it!” They chime simultaneously. You blink as Donghyuck explains, “We just... wonder... does that include us by any chance?”

So they wanted to be invited, huh? ...cute.

You break into a delighted smile, fiddling with your cup handle to give your hands something to do. “Well... a small dinner at my place won’t hurt, will it?”

In the short span of time that Donghyuck had gotten to know Wong Yukhei, never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d ever corner the guy for advice. No, not even in the nightmares.

Yet here he stands, blocking Yukhei’s path to your front door in what he thinks might be overdressed but what his mother called “cute!” before she’d shoved him out of the door so he couldn’t fret over how he looked a moment longer. He’d combed his hair to the side, slipped into a dark patterned button-down, matching blazer, and jeans rolled up to reveal tawny loafers with his only clean pair of black ankle socks (as long as he didn’t take his shoes off at any point, you’d never notice the Spider-Man print on the top of his feet) poking out. His lips shine with lip balm that instantly has Yukehi stifling a laugh into the back of his hand because he’d never let Donghyuck live this look down. “Looking sharp, Lee. You’re dressed to impress (Y/N)’s mom?”

Donghyuck huffs, miffed, “And you aren’t?” Donghyuck takes a quick survey of Yukhei’s similar outfit, save for the parted hair, rolled legs, and blazer. Yukhei looks relaxed in his outfit at least, where Donghyuck feels utterly out of place. He’d never been this dressed up in front of you before, and he was about to meet your family for heaven’s sake. He had hoped that this would at least come later on when you two were more... acquainted.

Yukhei, calm as ever, knows Donghyuck’s snark is out of fear and therefore feels no reason to snark back. “I have a feeling (Y/N)’ll love it, so don’t sweat it.” At the mention of sweat, Donghyuck does note he feels a little hot and quickly wipes his forehead with the back of his sleeve before it can gloss over into a sheen.

“Can I... ask you something?” Donghyuck requests, knowing at some point the two will have to enter and the chance will be lost on him. He can’t spend all his time squabbling with the boy in front of him forever.

Yukhei reads the mood well. Motions for Donghyuck to continue.

“Will you promise to not make it weird later if something... changes between me and (Y/N) tonight?”

“Weird how? Are you... Hyuck, you’re confessing?”

“Wait- dude, we’ve known each other for two weeks and you already know?” Dumbfounded, the youngest of the two feels his shoulders slacken in disbelief.

Yukhei shrugs as if it’s common knowledge, “You aren’t very opaque when it comes to crushes and all that... it was pretty obvious the minute I saw you two together. And, to answer your earlier question... I won’t.”

Donghyuck wants to worry about how many other people know about this little detail too. Right now though, he’s just glad it seems you’re not one of them. Yukhei makes sure to punctuate this by placing a comforting hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder, turning him to face the front door. “To answer your unspoken question too,” Yukhei says, leading the younger up to the doorbell, “just be honest. I have a pretty good feeling they’ll appreciate that.”

Be honest. Yukhei pushes the doorbell. Just be honest. Say the truth and lay it out flat. You open the door, in all your grandeur, glowing like in his daydreams. Just be- oh hell.

Dinner is the most nerve-wracking hour and a half of Donghyuck’s life, and while he has a usual flair of the dramatic, he’s being completely serious right now.

Your family is lovely, you are lovely... and he’s too choked up to say a thing. He has to eat your mother’s lovely food and hear Yukhei describe it in such exquisite terms and big words and all Donghyuck can manage is a smile and “it’s delicious, thank you”. Donghyuck listens to your family gush about you, your friend Lisa tell embarrassing stories about you, and Yukhei recount your wondrous two-week friendship like you all have known each other for years. Yukhei is everything Donghyuck had expected him to be when in the presence of you and your family and friends. Smart, thoughtful, funny... everything Donghyuck had been hoping he could be.

It was like every time he looked at you, all bright eyes and rosy cheeks and stunning smiles in the comfort of your home around the people you loved... he felt small. What was he doing here, really? Even Yukhei, someone who’d barely known you for a month, could find more material to charm your parents with than Donghyuck could. It made him feel so, so small.

You’ve shot him several questioning looks, rubbed his arm on the way to the living room to open presents, even straight up asked him if he was okay after cutting the cake. There’s some icing on the side of your lip that he wants to kiss off and that’s when he knows he needs to collect himself. “Where’s your bathroom?” He asks, and you laugh lightly. Maybe you thought the reason he looked so uncomfortable and out of place was because he really need to let loose a number two and wasn’t comfortable doing so in your house the first time he was over, on a night like this no less. You’re understanding. You tell him that your friend Wooseok is currently occupying the one downstairs because dinner “got to him too”, and point him to the one upstairs. He is so thankful he can be away from the hustle and bustle downstairs for just a few moments to breathe.

The minute he enters your bathroom, he notices the little things that he assumes belongs to you, and he tries to center himself by turning on the sink and splashing his face with cold water. Thankfully, the dark color of his shirt doesn’t show the sprinkles of water that fall on it in the process.

He grabs a few paper towels and dabs his face dry, attempting to pep-talk himself into being his usual cheerful self again. He was making you worried on your day and that wasn’t fair to you.

On his way out of the bathroom, he doesn’t mean to. He blames it on his tendency to look around and be curious, but when his eyes land on the wide open door to a room that looks like it belongs to you... he’s interested.

He examines what he can from his spot at the bathroom door. Your unmade bed, several different outfits tossed across it and some even strewn on the floor. There’s some cards and gift bags on top of the sheets, no doubt what you’d taken home after classes ended for the day. There’s a stack of books on the bedside table that you’ve got markers poking out of. It’s cute... it’s so you. He doesn’t realize he’s drifted inside until he hears you clear your throat at the doorway.

Donghyuck spins at the speed of light, facing your raised brow and amused expression. He looks fearful, a deer in headlights practically. He didn’t mean to wander in, and he doesn’t think he’s been standing in here that long, so either you’d hiked it up the stairs two at a time or you’d been there the whole time, watching him walk in. The latter seemed highly likely. “I was gonna show you my room later, anyway.” You tell him, walking further in and closing your door till it’s a mere crack. He gulps. “I also wanted to get you alone.”

“Me?” His voice cracks. Nice going, Lee.

You save him his pride and don’t laugh at the slip up, simply strolling over to your window. You push the curtains away, roll up the blinds, and unlock the window. Pushing up the glass panel, a gust of wind floods the room that sends shivers along Donghyuck’s exposed ankles. He’s confused when you get down on your knees beside the window sill, but when you pat the carpet beside you, he’s shuffling over wordlessly.

He opts to sit with his legs folded underneath, sweaty palms turned down so they can soak his jeans. He isn’t sure what to look at, so he just looks at you.

“I can’t believe I’m a year older.” You say quietly. “Can you?”

Donghyuck laughs short and soundlessly, “You’re that much closer to being a senior citizen.”

You snap your head to him and shove his shoulder, eliciting a real laugh out of him this time. “Hey! So are you, kid.”

“Hmph, not me. I’m Peter Pan. I’ll stay forever young.” He says proudly, folding his arms over his chest and straightening his back. In that moment, as his copper hair plays in the breeze, you truly believe him. The lamp light in the corner of the room casts a warm glow on his tan skin, highlighting his cheekbones and enchanting lips. How you’d been thinking of kissing them all night and not doing anything about it was beyond you.

“Then, shall I be Wendy?” You lower your voice, “So I can stay forever young too?”

Donghyuck slowly unfurls his arms, back slouching some, “Well... that means you’ll also be with me forever. Quite the commitment really. Even real-Wendy wasn’t ready for it.”

You bite your lip, wondering if you’re both still talking about the same thing anymore. “Maybe she wasn’t, but... I am.”

You both stare at each other’s eyes for a moment too long, and then you’re frantically turning to look out of the window once more. The air is heavy, so heavy. You can feel every breath and movement that Donghyuck makes from beside you, your knees just barely brushing.

It’s at that moment that the moonlight moves from behind the scattered clouds and suddenly shines on both of you, reminding you instantly as to why you’d opened the window in the first place. The sky is dotted with pretty stars and a gorgeous moon that shines down on the two of you. The promise of your day coming to an end is both sweet and melancholy. The moon seems to tell you “happy birthday, congratulations on another trip around the sun” with just that light that shines down.

“I like to look at the stars here when I come home from university,” you tell Donghyuck, feeling his eyes drift to your face, “it’s really comforting. Sometimes, I’ll turn on my music and look at the night sky and center myself. It’s nice... something I miss when I’m away.”

Donghyuck hums in appreciation, “You don’t see them much in the city. I’d almost forgotten what they looked like, but the moon is always there. It’s comforting.”

You smile softly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah. The moon has seen me do a lot since I came to be on this planet.”

Donghyuck shakes his leg lightly, brushing your knee just a little. He can still hear the others downstairs, enjoying themselves well without the two of you there. It feels like the two of you are on your own other plane of existence, somehow.

Finally, Donghyuck opens his mouth. He’s ready to be honest like Yukhei said. He’s been too chicken all night, it’s only right that he does it now. I mean, he’s been fussing about timing and all that for a while now. What better time than right now would there ever be-

“Donghyuck, I like-”

“-like you.” He finishes your whisper with his own.

He’d... he’d expected a lot on his way here. A refusal, acceptance, a laugh, a downright demand to never see him again even. Among none of the several scenarios he’d thought up did he think that you’d confess at the same time.

“Were you... did you plan to confess tonight? Too?” Donghyuck asks, his elation just slightly muted by his unmitigated doubt. He had really just confessed to his crush of who knows how long. At the same time.

“Yeah!” You half-yell, practically choking on words to snicker instead, “I really did. I’d been rehearsing since last night.”

This was the most “you” kind of confession the two of you could possibly have, perhaps.

Donghyuck and you both just stare at each other, but the smiles that creep onto your faces make their way there all on their own. Donghyuck had run over a lot of scenarios in his head, and yet, not one of them could ever make him feel the way he was feeling right now. If cloud nine had an advanced, VIP branch, he’d be on it for sure.

And, in a very “you” way of being, the two of you are sprawled on the floor in happy laughter that deafens the sounds of talking downstairs easily. Your foreheads nearly knock together as you both roll onto your sides, gasping for breath at the predicament you’d found yourselves in. Finding his eyes with yours when some of it dies down, you exhale happily against his lips, “So, Yukhei... you too?” “Yeah,” Donghyuck nods, “nosy jerk. I kinda thought you liked him.”

You hum, looking down at his lips and their very small proximity to yours. “A nosy jerk who may or may not have been the catalyst to all this.”

Donghyuck also looks down at your lips, the little bit of icing still there in the very corner that he wants to kiss off. Now he knows you’ll let him. “Hm. To-may-to, to-mah-to.”

669 notes · View notes

koderenn · 5 years

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Summary: A severed Force bond cuts deep into their haunting past, as Ben and Rey struggle to redefine themselves and what they mean to each other. But with a schism running down the New Republic and the remnants of the First order in hiding, time is of the essence and broken hearts only get in the way.

Day 5

Ben stood rigidly outside a door his knuckles hovering indecisively over its metal surface. This was not a meeting he was looking forward to having. He pressed his lips together, stepping away and started pacing the corridor, his hand raking nervously through his clean and carefully combed hair. He was supposed to be meeting Rey an hour after dawn for their search in the jungle and he was already running late due to his immense procrastination. But he didn't know if he would have this chance again. This chance of catharsis and one more absolution from the man that had been almost a second father to him.

He clenched his fists.

I have to do this.

His knuckles hesitated over the door once again, as he chewed the inside of his lip drawing blood. He inhaled deeply.

This was it.

A shrill and a series of alarmed beeps broke his determination and he swiveled his head to the side. And then down. Looking directly at a round droid painted in those irking Resistance colors of white and orange. It had its lens trained on him focusing and twirling, as it swiveled agitatedly on its round body.

Ben frowned.

The droid was releasing a series of very offending beeps in his direction and he found himself very tempted to just give it a good kick and send it rolling down the corridor when Rey's distinctive accent stopped him.

"There you are!" She called out and he could swear his heart missed a beat. She approached him with beaming eyes and a radiant smile, squatting down to give the droid's belly a good rub, before looking up at his looming form. Ben watched her, unsure of himself. Was she happy to see him or the droid?

"This is BB-8," she informed him with a wide grin. "The droid that carried Luke Skywalker's map."

Figures.

Of course, he would cross paths with it, when he no longer had a use for it.

"The one I was in search of. For at least two years as I recall."

"The one and only." She rose and approached him close enough for him to smell the lingering scent of generic soap the Resistance was so fond of using. Her hair was wet, pulled back on a round bun on the top of her head, revealing that slender neck he yearned and dreamed and hungered to run his finger down its curve for days now. Droplets of water were still beaded on her skin and Force did he envy them. They were closer than he would ever get.

He licked his lips.

"Ben?" She asked, probably completely unaware of her effect on him.

His attention was snapped back to her bright eyes.

"The droid is outdated," he commented offhandedly because he had to say something. "I'm surprised you haven't broken it down for parts and purchased a new one in its place."

Rey arched an eyebrow, while the orange droid focused its lens on him. A heavy silence hung between them.

"Don't act so surprised," he shook his head condescendingly at the droid. "Your selenium drive is the only thing worth a decent amount of credits on you."

A metal arm was extended from some hidden small pocket in the droid's round body.

The zap on his knee came so fast it nearly buckled under him.

"What the fuck!" He yelled out. Clamping down the urge to send the droid flying against the wall. That had really stung.

"You weren't exactly polite. What did you expect?"

"It's a droid."

The lens twirled again and Ben narrowed his eyes at it.

"And very self-sufficient," Rey commented with a smirk.

"I noticed," he grumbled, rubbing at the numbing sensation on his knee. That droid was lucky Rey seemed to be so fond of it, otherwise, he would be in the process of dismantling it in the middle of the corridor. With his bare hands.

"This is Calrissian's room. Are you here to see him?" Rey pointed out, looking at him with what felt like hope. "He's leaving for Kuat today, you know."

"I know…" he mumbled back, sliding his eyes back to that cursed door.

"Just knock on the door and go talk to him. You don't know when you might see him again." She held his gaze steadily and expectantly and Ben found himself knocking on it as if compelled by her will alone.

Steps approached and the door was swung open revealing a very surprised Lando Calrissian.

"Well, look who decided to drop by," he said, a tinge of mockery in his brown eyes. "The little Starfighter finally worked up the courage to join the battle."

"Don't call me that."

"And what should I call you?"

A drop of water echoed off the dark stone walls.

"Ben," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "May I come in?"

Lando, studied him an indecipherable look on his face, before moving aside and gesturing for him to enter. Ben glanced at Rey for a moment and she nodded for him to go inside. The door was shut behind him, but not before Lando sent a quick wink and a smirk in her direction.

Figures.

Sometimes Ben wondered if the whole galaxy was conspiring against him.

It was hot and unbearably humid in the jungle. And Rey felt as if her legs would start to disassemble any moment now. She used the Force to flick away a swarm of insects to her left in frustration while dodging a branch to her right. Her boot got snagged for the millionth time on roots protruding from the muddy ground and she barely caught herself from falling flat on her face.

Ben must have heard her curse because he looked at her over his shoulder with a concerned "Are you ok? Do you need any help?" expression on his face. But Rey refused to seem weak in his eyes. He was supposed to be the spoiled prince and she the tough scavenger, after all.

But this jungle was not Jakku. And she would have taken the deadly scorching sun and lifeless dunes of sand any time in comparison to this.

"I'm fine," she bit out. "Go on."

She darted a glance at the glistening skin of his arms. His torso was covered only by a black tank top and his raven hair clung to the nape of his neck with sweat. He was moving steadily ahead, his broad body and powers opening a path for her to follow with an ease that made her wonder if he had been hiking through jungles all his life.

"The vegetation is thicker in this part of the jungle," he commented over his shoulder a little while later, darting an ascertaining glance in her direction. "I had taken the opposite direction yesterday and noticed halfway through the day that the plant life was getting scarcer. Perhaps because the water wasn't enough. I think we're on the right track today."

He lifted a fallen log with the Force, and tossed it inside the foliage, probably disturbing a nest of some sort because a number of avians flapped their colorful wings overhead croaking their annoyance into the jungle's thickness.

Rey closed her eyes, reaching for that clean cool sensation in the Force she was so familiar with, after countless years of searching for it in deserts.

"There is definitely fresh water in these lands, can you sense it?" She said, stopping in her tracks and inhaling deeply. It was soothing and refreshing, but she couldn't exactly feel where it was coming from. She sighed. The numerous lifeforms of this jungle were very distracting.

She opened her eyes to Ben's intense gaze studying her face less than a foot away.

His proximity made her flinch.

How had he walked up to her without her hearing him? He was usually very loud. This man was full of contradictions.

"I only sense mud and the decaying waters of the swamps," he deadpanned. "Can you sense a river or spring?"

"Yes, it's very refreshing. Can't you?"

"No," he answered gloomily. He tilted his head towards the direction he had been moving, snapping his command. "You lead the way."

"Ben, I have no idea where it's coming from. I only know it's somewhere in the vicinity."

"That's good enough."

He was annoyed with himself. Rey could feel the prickling of his self-disdain. She huffed, her shoulder brushing lightly against his solid chest as she moved in front of him, in what little space he had allowed.

"I really don't understand why you're making me do this," she grumbled. "You only have to reach out and feel the balance of the Force, and then just choose to follow its Light expression or its Dark. It's really very simple. The first lesson Luke Skywalker gave me. And there weren't many. Barely three. I had become something akin to a pest in order for him to finally relent and show me…"

She halted and glanced back. Ben was standing rigidly in the same spot she had left him, a darkness in his eyes.

"Luke Skywalker taught you about the Dark Side?" He asked.

"Well, if you can call a few minutes of talking and a slap on my hand a lesson? Yeah, I guess he did."

"My uncle taught you about the Dark Side." He repeated flatly.

"He wasn't exactly fond of it, but he did in all his lessons. In a sense. Especially when he spoke about the Jedi Order and their mistakes."

Ben chuckled darkly with a shake of his head and looked to the side with a scowl. And suddenly Rey understood.

"He never spoke to you about it," she said. "Never mentioned the balance needed in the Force…"

"No. He was afraid of the Darkness."

Was afraid of you. Or for you.

Rey realized as she took in the powerful man with the hot, easy to evoke temper and consuming personality. With eyes smoldering from pent up emotions and nowhere to release them. The exact opposite of what a Jedi was supposed to be. No wonder Luke had failed him.

"The Luke Skywalker you knew and the one I met were two completely different men," she said. "I think you would have gotten along with the one I knew better now."

Ben eyed her steadily, a need hidden in his dark eyes that he didn't know how to put into words.

"Let me show you how to look for the water," she said softly stepping closer to him and reaching for his temples. His eyes widened, unsure and almost frightened.

But Rey was not afraid, as she touched the sides of his head, threading light fingertips through his sweaty strands. Was she allowed to do this? She didn't even know. A part of her felt guilty for reveling in the thrill of touching him. But he didn't move away. Rey rested her gaze on his dark eyes, marveling in the shades of warm brown and molten amber that flickered in their depths. Letting their raw power and heat draw her in. And as his warm breath fanned her lips, she parted them and said.

"Let me in."

A slice of heaven.

That's the only image Ben could conjure to compare to the sensation of Rey taking over his mind. He had forgotten what it felt like having her breeze through him, bright crisp morning air disturbing the dark stuffiness of his thoughts. Her Light had stung and prickled and had felt absolutely euphoric.

And was over before he could react…

Her slim fingers had fallen from his temples, she had stepped back and he had been left with only the memory of her sweet taste in his soul and no idea how to reach for it again.

Ben jumped over a fallen log, his hand set on its rough disintegrating surface, as he followed Rey treading through the uneven terrain.

Her walls were up, smooth and sturdy as always. She was the punishment the universe had inflicted on him. There was no other explanation.

"I think we should stop for a bite," Rey said, as she pushed her way through the last foliage and into a small clearing amidst the jungle. Her hair had slipped from her bun some time ago, and leaves and tiny twigs were perched on her wild strands. Her arms were full of infinite small scratches and her clothes were ripped and torn beyond repair. She looked like a savage and he couldn't help the smirk that broke on his face.

The sweetest, most torturous punishment, indeed.

"What's so funny?" She asked narrowing her eyes at him while trying to untangle a branch from the piece of grey cloth she always seemed to be wrapped in.

"Nothing in particular," he answered dismissively, refraining the mirth that swelled in his chest. "Let me help you with that."

He kneeled next to her taking hold of the branch and slowly detaching in from the fabric. And that's when he noticed the cut.

"Rey, how did you get that?" He moved aside the piece of torn cloth on her thigh revealing an ugly gash and the ruby blood trickling from it. He looked up at her in alarm. "Was it some plant that did it or animal?"

"What? I didn't know I had a cut and…" She glanced at it, raising her eyebrows. "Won't you look at that… It's really bleeding! I didn't even feel how it happened…"

Ben pursed his lips. If Rey couldn't feel it that meant the wound was probably poisoned. And from what he'd heard about this planet's plant life and lifeforms…

Fuck!

Ben tore the cloth surrounding the gash and fumbled through his backpack for fresh water.

"Sit down," he ordered as Rey leaned over to check the cut, her wild mane of hair cascading over his head, shadowing the jungle from their eyes. "Rey," he looked at her beseechingly with a tilt of his head. "Sweetheart…Please sit down so I can clean it for you and check it out."

She smiled at him softly which under different circumstances would have his heart stuttering for completely different reasons, but this was not the time.

"I mean it," he nearly snarled at her, because this girl didn't have a single bone of self-conservation in her, as her smile widened and her cheeks flushed. And was this some kind of effect the poison had? Because he had to get it out of her system.

Immediately!

"I don't think it's that bad," she commented, and he could feel that bubble of frustration rising in his chest at her nonchalance. Sometimes he wondered how she had even survived this long on Jakku.

"Rey… please…" he begged, because Force this woman would be the death of him.

She relented, at last, sitting down on the plush grass with a cryptic smile, studying him carefully behind her long lashes.

Ben washed off the blood in quick precise movements, appraising the rims of the gash.

Definitely a plant. He concluded.

But still…

Without a second thought, he leaned over her thigh and set his lips softly on the deep gash, carefully sucking a taste of blood and spitting it to the side.

He repeated the motion two more times before raising his eyes to check on Rey.

Her eyes were wide and her hand was set on her neck, her face a deep shade of crimson.

"Are you all right? Because there's no taste of poison in the blood and … Rey?"

"I'm feeling a little dizzy," she said in a small voice, laying down on the grass with a heaving chest. "I think I just need to lie down a bit…"

Ben could swear his heart stopped. He crawled up to her and grasped her face in his hands trying to figure out if she was about to pass out on him, or if…

Her eyes were shut.

No.

No, no, no…

"Rey, please say something…" He brushed away her tangled hair from her face, caressing it desperately and yet gently with his rough hands. Any word would be fine, really. Just as long as he could hear that little accent of hers and …

Rey cracked open an eye, and the most beautiful sound rang in the clearing. It took him a couple of moments to register what it actually was. He scrunched his brows.

"You're laughing," he said accusingly. "I thought you were dying on me and here you are laughing."

He watched her extremely annoyed as she struggled to gain a breath between her merciless giggles.

"I'm sorry," she gasped with a wave of her hand and a huge grin plastered on her face. "I didn't mean to worry you it's just that I felt the world spin for a second when you…"

"Save it," he snapped, causing her mouth to clamp shut and the laughter to die out. He felt absolutely ridiculous.

She looked at him, this strange light in her eyes as he pulled back, reaching for his backpack again. He brought forth a bacta patch, utterly agitated at her and the prankster that seemed to lurk underneath all that innocent looking exterior. He secured it on her thigh with a torn cloth, all the while being extremely careful not to touch any part of her skin, because he had to salvage some part of his dignity. However small and insignificant it may be.

He got off the ground, all bothered, avoiding those bright, pretty eyes that he could just feel were trained on him, and dusted the dirt from his slacks.

"Where are you going?" He heard her sweet voice ask in adorable curiosity as he stomped his way back towards the thick jungle with a deep frown.

The woman is ruthless.

"To bring back actual food, because no way in hell am I eating those damn Resistance portions. I need something fresh and bloody nutritious for once," he groused, sliding an irritated glance in her direction before disappearing into the thick foliage.

He'd seen some avians flapping around earlier that from what Chewbacca had mentioned were edible. And after that stunt she'd pulled on him, he was seriously considering not sharing them with her.

Oh, and wild berries.

He remembered suddenly, as he flicked away a four-legged mammal from his path.

Ben was definitely not sharing those with her.

"Ben?" Rey said softly, popping one of those delicious berries in her mouth that Ben had brought back from his remarkably quick hunt.

"I was hungry," he had said, before plopping a half dozen plump small avians on the ground before her feet and a sack full of wild purple berries, "so I cheated by using the Force instead of conventional methods of hunting."

Rey wasn't one to argue with that.

He was sprawled on the thick grass, one arm behind his head and one on top of his sated belly with his eyes shut in light slumber, while Rey sat next to him polishing off the last of the berries he had brought for her, feeling utterly fed and satisfied.

She gazed at his calm features and relaxed body. Small splatters of light permeated the shadow of the tree they were laying under and formed random patterns on his face and dark tunic. She studied them as they drifted to and forth. Dancing in accordance to the leaves overhead. There was a serenity to this moment that she never thought she'd witness with him. He carried so much of his past on his shoulders that he never stopped to set the burden down and enjoy the present.

But seeing him like this. Now. At ease next to her. Surrendered.

It made something twist and ache deep inside her.

Ben had called her sweetheart like that one time in the lake. There was no mistaking it. He'd cradled her head softly in his hands and had seemed so afraid of losing her.

It has to be.

Her mind shouted at her, what her heart had been whispering all along.

He cared for her. And the bond had nothing to do with it.

"Ben?"

She didn't want to wake him. She wanted to stay there, under the canopy, forgotten and lost from the world. With him, forever.

"Ben?"

She reached out, touching his shoulder gently.

"Hmmm…?" He stirred. Brown, bottomless eyes still closed.

"It's time to go."

He brought his hand forth to rub at his eyes and face with a light moan.

"Just a few more moments," he said in a hoarse voice.

Stars, he must have been in deep sleep.

She crawled up to him, stretching her body by his side and perching herself on her elbows, with a wide smile.

"Get up sleepy head. Everyone back at the base is probably dying of thirst."

His lips tugged in a small smile, but kept his eyes shut. A light breeze ruffled his hair again, blowing withered leaves and anemone blooms their way, and she watched them settle on his dark tresses. She inched forward, and plucked the closest one out. Then the one next to it and the one after that, clearing whatever she could from his tangled strands.

It would take all day to get them all out, she thought engrossed in her task.

His eyes opened lazily and he turned his head to watch her carefully as she performed her task almost a breath away. A simmering need laying just beneath their surface, growing.

He untangled his arm from behind his head bringing it to rest on her back. Rey paused darting a hesitant glance his way, before continuing on.

She could feel his fingertips trail a path down her spine coming to a stop at the exposed skin on the curve of her waist. They stayed there, light as a feather warming the bumps that had flared under his touch.

She brushed away a bloom settled on his cheekbone, feeling the taught skin underneath.

Her fingers lingered.

Slipped slowly down the angle of his jaw. Coming to rest on his full lips.

Time trailed painful and slow as his eyes remained transfixed on hers and his body completely still. Breath bated and eyes unblinking. Waiting.

Wanting.

What Rey was too scared to give.

His fingers curled and dug lightly on her skin.

"Don't tease me, Rey," he warned her, his voiced low and coarse. "Be careful…"

Rey exhaled a quivering breath. Sensing that she was indeed treading on dangerous grounds.

It would be so simple. To lean over and set a kiss on those lips. To run her tongue on their seams and taste him. But there was more to this man than a kiss or a random night in his bed.

This wasn't a friend.

This wasn't a relationship.

This is something else entirely.

If she did this. If she started down this path with him, would she ever be able to return if things turned out bad? Would she be able to find herself again?

Would I want to?

His lips parted and two of her fingers slipped inside, grazing against his teeth. Feeling the heat and wetness that lay beneath them. The sensation ran like a livewire down her body. Sparking a need deep inside her that she always tried to ignore around this man.

She jolted away, as if electrified. Coiling instinctively at a safe distance from him. Heart pounding relentlessly in her ears.

He lifted himself to a sitting position and watched her from the shadows of the tree, eyes sharp. Knowing.

"I will never be the same," she whispered to him. "I am afraid I will never be the same if I let you in."

"You won't," he answered softly. He lifted his hand to caress wisps of hair from her face. His gaze heavy with a promise that she was too scared to believe. "But then again, neither will I."

Rey resisted the urge to lean in to the touch.

"What if one of us grows tired of the other?" She asked her voice quivering at the edges. "I've seen it happen more times than I can count within the Resistance. Or we end up fighting like your parents did?" Rey nearly shivered with Ben's memories. "What then?"

"I'm not repeating my parents' mistakes," he stated firmly, his gaze losing part of its warmth. His hand fell from her face and he clenched his jaw.

"But you don't know that! We might end up making the exact same ones," Rey insisted, because she'd seen it. Couples never made it in the long run. Happy endings didn't exist. Her parents deserted her. His parents broke him.

"No, we don't know!" Ben shifted, closing the distance between them. His stunning face mere fingers away from her. "For all we know this planet might implode tomorrow, or one of us might end up getting bitten by some venomous insect and dying on the spot. You scared the living Force out of me earlier! But that's just it, Rey... We can never know. It might turn out to be the worst decision of our lives or it might end up being the best. There is only one way to find out!"

He was breathtaking in his thunderous intensity. Away from the tree's shadow and in the brightness of day. And with a steadfast expression written all over his features that could shatter a Death Star.

She was unable to look away from him.

"Stop running away from what you want…" He finally said almost in a whisper, an understanding in his eyes that she had seen before. More than once.

She nodded, heart swelling and eyes blurring, and she rose to her feet in a desperate attempt to pull herself together.

"We should be heading back," she said in a thick voice. "I'm just going to go and pick a few more berries to have on our way."

There was a long, dreadful pause. An insect buzzed between them, going its merry way.

"Berries." He repeated gruffly. "You want berries."

Rey stole a glance his way.

She needed space. She needed to think. And she couldn't think when she was around him. He was just too…

Derailing.

"Yes, berries. They were delicious," she stated, crossing her arms around herself.

Ben breathed out a chuckle to himself, raking his hand through his hair before gesturing in the air.

"Be my guest. I'll be right here. Waiting."

"Run!"

Ben looked up just in time to see Rey sprinting towards him full speed from across the clearing.

He shut off the datapad resting on his lap with a small raise of his eyebrows at the panicked expression on her face. She was at his side in the blink of an eye, picking up their few scattered possessions and stuffing them in their backpacks.

She was supposed to be picking those damn berries. What in the galaxy could have her running like that?

"We need to go! Now!" She screeched, tugging at the blanket underneath him.

He nearly chuckled at her exasperated face, flushed pink from her sprinting.

"Calm down, whatever it is can't be all that…"

A roar breeched the jungle air, ruffling trees and causing avians to fly off and small creatures of the woods to hide in the trees. His attention was dragged to a reptilian creature emerging from the spot where Rey had just appeared, massive as a shuttle and with a mouth full of razor sharp teeth that could probably fit both him and Rey in one bite.

"…bad. Shit!"

"I told you."

The creature focused its eyes on them, releasing a violent huff, the stench of which stretched across the meadow, all the way to their make-shift nest.

"Forget the blanket!" He clipped.

He grabbed her hand, squeezing it firmly in his, as she helped him up. They both stumbled through the forest line right as they felt the ground shake from the creature's pounding gallop.

"That thing is massive!" He yelled, his grip still tightly holding on to hers.

"I know!" She chuckled back, easily catching up to his long strides.

Twigs broke under their running feet and the leafage blurred as they rushed through the jungle.

"I believe it might be a Night Beast," he panted out as they barely dodged a falling tree. The curious academic in him trying to categorize it into to some familiar species. "It's an alleged creature left behind by the Massassi, to guard and protect their homeworld against any invaders until their return."

Rey looked at him out of the corner of her eye, teeth gritted from the strain of their sprint.

"I really don't care! I just don't want to become its next meal!"

He grinned at the ridiculousness of their situation.

Cracking of trees and rustling of foliage followed their trail, along with the beast's roar breathing down their neck.

"Can you freeze it with the Force?" She cried out, after a particularly sharp claw whisked over their heads, and wedged itself on a nearby tree.

"Are you insane?" He barked at her. "I don't have time to conjure the Force and run like hell! Who do you think I am?"

Rey threw a hand out in irritation. "Kylo Ren. That's who!"

Ben tried to sputter some kind of smart retort because…

What?

Where had that come from?

"You do it!" He suggested, the crack of a tree letting them know that the beast had probably freed its claw from the bark.

Rey let out a string of swears that Ben surprisingly did not recognize at least half of them. And that was pretty impressive, since he had been raised by Han Solo and Chewbacca after all, and was familiar with at least seven different languages of…

"Watch out!" She said, tugging his hand towards her, as he barely evaded the edges of muddy waters, resembling very much those of quicksand.

Damn that was close.

His girl had good instincts.

Another roar filled the jungle, shaking the ground under their feet and Ben clutched her arm tightly just as she stumbled over a protruding root.

"Ben, we have to do something," she heaved after a few more paces, "we won't last much longer…"

Ben clenched his teeth, because fuck he was aware of that too.

We need cover.

He allowed his senses to spread out, searching, looking, feeling for anything that could possibly provide any kind of protection.

"Do you feel that?" She panted out, right when he came across the unmistakable sensation of clean, cool, refreshing…

Water…

His eyes went wide.

He had felt water.

"Yes…" he stammered. Yes!

"This way!" She pulled on their tightly clasped hands again, dragging them off the path and into the thick vegetation to their left. It was a lot more difficult to move through it, as branches and leaves created a near impenetrable green barrier.

"What is that sound?" Rey called out as they struggled through a series of bushes.

"You mean besides that beast's deafening roar?"

Rey looked at him rather miffed, because he knew exactly the sound she was referring to. It only grew louder and more distinct as they cut their path through what seemed like the jungle's receding tree line.

Moving a branch out of the way, he helped Rey through the last of the foliage and they both stepped foot on the unmistakable edge of a cliff. Cascading waters misted their faces and their rushing sound enveloped their hearing. Beneath them jungle trees stretched all the way to the mountainous horizon in the far distance. The sun burned bright and radiant above them and sparkled on the waters of the river falls next to them. Multiple colors formed in the mist, turning the wilderness into an image taken from fairytales.

Rey stared at the falls with wide eyes, clutching his arm.

And Ben stared at Rey.

"We can't jump into that!" she said.

Another roar tore into the air closer than anticipated and a pack of creatures screeched into the trees behind them.

"There's no other way to go!" He implored. "If we're lucky that thing won't know how to swim."

"Are you serious? I don't know how to swim either! Remember?"

"I won't let you drown."

"Well, that's good to know," she huffed.

Rey dug her nails in the muscle of his arm in determination. She lifted her hazel eyes at him, their depths catching the sun's rays and turning nearly into gold. He remained transfixed for a moment, treasuring the faith and trust buried in those clear eyes. It made his chest expand with this feeling of nobility and protectiveness, so similar to the ones he used to feel when hearing his mother read stories of knights and dragons and princesses in distress as a child.

Where is Kylo Ren and what have I done to him?

"Ben?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we taking that jump or what?"

"Absolutely."

"I think we found the water supply we were looking for," Rey spat climbing out of the riverbank, with shaky legs. Ben's firm grip never having let go of her hand for a single moment.

He pulled her forth with a lot more ease than Rey felt comfortable with, because her boot slipped in the mud and she slammed into him with enough force to send them both sliding down the murky earth with a great oof!

She found herself splayed on top of him in a tangle of limbs, mud dripping down her hair and clinging disgustedly on both their clothes. His face was scrunched in a wince of pain, even though not a single sound had escaped his lips, and Rey found her elbow digging into his lower abdomen. Any lower and it would have…

"Sorry," she mumbled feeling her face heat as she scrambled to get off him.

"Not your fault," he coughed back.

This mud was ridiculously thick. It would turn out to be a complete nightmare to wash off them. Not to mention the sewing needed to patch together the rips and tears already running down the fabrics.

"I don't think I'll be visiting the jungle for any more errands any time soon," Ben commented rather lightly about the horrid state they were in. He turned his head to look at her, clearly amused.

"Yeah, well…" Rey grumbled. "That makes two of us."

Rey set a hand on Ben's side trying to lift herself off him, only to have it slip once more and have her nearly smacking foreheads with him.

Damn it.

This mud was absurd. She was surprised Ben hadn't started fuming by now.

Until she felt it.

It started as a snort, really. Spreading silently on his chest in tiny small shakes and then breaking out of his throat in a burst of ridiculously loud, unashamed and contagious laughter. She snapped startled eyes in his direction, catching a wide toothy smile, with dimples running down the sides and sparkling crinkled eyes. A torrent of laughter shook his body beneath her, the likes of it she had never seen before.

"Ben?' She asked, trying to contain a tug of her lips, because she was most certainly not joining him in laughing to tears. This was an awful situation. "I hope those berries weren't hallucinogenic or something. Because there is nothing funny about the situation we're in," she pointed out, trying especially hard to sound stern. She made an attempt to get off him again.

But he grabbed her, rolling her over before she could do a thing to stop him and she suddenly found herself with her back against the icky mud and his broad body pressed on top of her, caging her between his arms.

"It's not the berries," he said, the laughter ebbing away, leaving a soft smile behind and a pair of gleaming, burning, beautiful brown eyes. "It's you. It's always been you."

Rey felt the air leave her lungs, in tiny tingling particles churning in the space between them.

She swallowed thickly, her heart fluttering its way out of her chest. And she knew she was in this too deep. Way deeper than the muck she was currently buried in. And if he were to make a single move, anything resembling what he had done in the clearing, she would melt right then and there and become one with the goo.

Where is Kylo Ren and what have you done to him?

She wanted to cry out. Because the man settled on top of her had nothing to do with the Dark Lord of storms and burning fires. This man before her was immersed in a soft glow. Beaming into the Force the most bizarre and radical of emotions.

Happiness.

Rey couldn't believe her eyes.

"Now come on," he said tweaking her nose with his muddy thick fingers. "Let's get going before night falls and we end up getting chased by Howlers."

"By what?"

"You don't want to know."

"What the fuck happened to you?" Was Nyxx's natural reaction when Rey and Ben entered the mess hall of the pyramid sometime late in the evening.

A few pairs of eyes turned to look at them as well, their shabby appearance earning them a couple of chuckles.

Ben, or at least he believed that was Ben under the mud and leaves clinging on his clothes and hair, slid an irritated glance in his direction.

"It's been a long day," Rey answered, her presence just as pitiful as her man's.

Huh.

Nyxx arched an eyebrow, bringing the rim of a bottle to his lips and taking a long sip. They looked as if a galoomp had vomited all over them.

"You guys didn't try killing each other, did you?" Finn commented over a board of Sabacc, the game he had been engrossed in with Jessica.

Brows all around immediately scrunched in worry.

Rey and Ben both shook their heads in unison, dragging their feet towards the staircase.

"We forgot our lightsabers," Rey drawled.

"Not making that mistake again..." Ben mumbled next to her as he started following her up the stairs.

They reached her floor first and Ben walked her to her door, setting down her bag full of berries.

They stood in awkward silence for a few long moments. Rey fiddling with the hem of her tethered shirt, feeling his intense gaze on her.

Time ticked by without a word.

Ben suddenly leaned in. His nose brushed her cheek and his lips left a light kiss there, making her skin tingle with the softness of his breath. He pulled away almost immediately, his expression shadowed in the darkness of the stone corridor.

"Goodnight, Rey..."He said.

The deep groveled timbre of his voice, tugging on her heart once again. Her fingers rose to touch the spot he had just set his kiss on.

"Ben?"

Don't go.

Her hand flew to grasp his, and he turned his head to look at her.

"I had a good time today," she said.

I don't want it to end.

He chuckled low, rubbing his face with a light groan. "Go to bed Rey. I'll see you tomorrow."

She swallowed. Because no… She wasn't done. She wanted more. So much more.

Rey didn't know if it could all fit in the span of a lifetime.

She held on to his hand as he was about to turn around and leave, causing him to glance at her again. In the darkness of the corridor it was hard to decipher his expression.

"Don't go yet," she said.

She felt his gaze on her heavy and concrete when she tugged on his hand. His grasp tightened around hers and he responded silently by inching closer to her.

A step.

A breath.

Rey didn't know what it was that had taken over her senses. Perhaps it was the lightness that lingered between them. Maybe the darkness of the corridor and the secrets it could keep.

Or maybe it was just him.

But Rey set her fingers on the sides of his neck. And felt his hot pulse accelerate under the coolness of her touch. She rose up on her toes, her chest brushing against his tall body. She slid her fingers in his messy hair, pulling his broad frame down to her.

Rey didn't look in his startled eyes. Didn't let her gaze linger on his black strands falling in his face. She didn't hear the light moan that escaped his throat. Neither did she smell the wet earth and musk of his skin.

She noticed none of those.

All she felt was the warmth of his breath as she closed the space between them, and his full lips as she set a tender kiss on the softness of them.

It must have lasted a heartbeat. Or perhaps an eternity.

Rey wasn't sure. But it didn't matter.

Because perhaps tomorrow she could have a little more.

She released her hold on him and stepped back. The fever in his eyes the only thing she allowed herself to see.

"Goodnight, Ben," she said, turning on legs that shook and knees too weak to carry her. She scooped up her berries and went into her room.

And allowed herself to breathe when she heard the hiss of the door behind her.

#reylo

2 notes · View notes

smoothvacuum · 3 years

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iRobot Roomba 805 Review: EXPERT reveals secrets

Whenever you look at the all Roomba 800 series from iRobot, you will notice a few things. First, there are many models in this series than any other. Second, each model has functions and options from unique series models.

How do you select?

The 805 is a perfect option for those searching for a mid-tier robot at a limited budget price. Is it enough for you? That will depend incredibly on your requirements and expectations.

This article will cover the Roomba 805 with the point of telling you everything you require to know about the model specifically, including if it’s the right fit for you or not. When your opinion might differ, our thoughts are that for the rates, there are better models currently available.

iRobot Roomba 805 Review

iRobot Roomba 805 Review – Features and specifications

Both models came out under the 800s series with Roomba, an earlier version compared to the 880. The functions of 805 could be said to represent what the manufacturer has in mind while they begin with the 800s series.

Specifications:

iRobot Roomba 805 robotic vacuum is six inches high or about 9.2 cm.

Roomba 805 has one hour of runtime when it’s fully charged according to the packaging. However, it totally depends on the usage; it can last for a long duration and possibly a maximum of 100 minutes before you have to dock it back.

Comes with an elegant charging station, the same as the dual-wall barriers. The builder also added an extra filter for your first change of 4 AA batteries. As well.

Roomba 805 includes everything you required to operate this device out of the box when the package arrives, so there’s no requirement to buy any extra equipment. In fact, you could quickly run it after plugging in the batteries.

And here are some main functions worth noting about the Roomba 805:

MAIN FUNCTIONS AeroForce three-Stage Cleaning System Brushing, agitation, and suction are the 3 stages this sentence refers to.

The vacuum ensures that specks of dirt are brushed and quickly sucked into the robot vacuum. AeroForce also refers to a filter-system within the vacuum cleaner which captures particles as tiny as 10 microns.

iAdapt Navigation It provides robot vacuum cleaners their capability to detect unique areas and obstacles in front of them. By using this feature, lets the robot to navigate through hard corners and furniture, such as the chairs and dining table, along the walls as well.

The robot vacuum comes with sensors that permit it to do this. Brush-less extractors These avert entanglement within its system. This is a big problem in homes with pets that shed hair and long-haired residents.

This deducts the maintenance one requires to do for the vacuum as it is a little bit heavy to work as a tangle postion. Keep in mind that you have to schedule your robot to clean a maximum of seven times per week; that means you’ll always be welcomed with a dusted house every day.

You just have to tap on the CLEAN key on the top of the robot to get it running. Dual Mode Virtual Wall Barriers This function provides the Roomba 805 the capability to clean your home according to the room you want to clean.

By making efficient use of the walls, you could use the Dual Mode to keep your robot out of a certain place or restrict it to only clean a specific room.

Roomba 805, being the predecessor, typically shows several weaknesses (well, just one)

Does not come with a HEPA filter.

iRobot Roomba 805 Review – Who is it for?

It is not a secret that the iRobot Roomba 805 robotic vacuum is an affordable model with a ton of good functions. Is it suitable for you, though? It can be if you:

Have pets that shed a ton and require to keep up on the pickup.

Require a robot that just jobs without a ton of fuss.

Require the capability to schedule cleaning cycles any day or time of the week.

CHECK PRICE ON AMAZON!!

Features that we loved in iRobot Roomba 805

The Robot Will Recharge Itself

Whenever the battery level gets drops to about 15 percent, the robot vacuum will stop its cleaning cycle and will start heading back towards the charging station. You do not have to tell it to do this task. However, you could send it to recharge whenever you require.

Even though when the battery reaches ten percent, the robot will go into panic mode, though. This is not a noted function; it only happens. You might read that some users complain that this vacuum cleaner frequently gets stuck and then dies without discovering the charging station.

This is because of this panic mode. The charging base requires it to be smoothly accessible, with 3 feet on all sides and also in front of the base. When the robot finding the beacon has to be able to discover the robot and then guide it in, while the robot vacuum is much far away, the search could take a lot longer than normal duration.

When the bettery gets empty, the vacuum cleaner will become more frantic in its discovery, heading to various places where the charging station might be. This is why you may find your robot dead in a corner or could be stuck against a wall or under a table, etc.

If this happens plenty of times, you must consider displacing the base station to a new and more centralized location in your house. Hard flooring is much optimal to permit easier docking. Moving your charging station will permit the robot to maintain closer proximity to your base and also find it before the battery level dies.

Product Design

When we discuss the iRobot Roomba 805 robotic vacuum’s design, it does stand out among many competitors because the design of this robot vacuum is in the shape of a nice circular disk.

It has 3 circular rings, the outermost consisting of a soft wall bumper. Also the innermost including the central processing unit, comes with an access key positioned on top. To operate the cleaning feature, all you ever need to do is just put it on the floor and just click on the key.

The disk will displace around the floor. Besides that, it will not just clean your room but the entire floor if there are not any pitfalls on the surface other than stairs.

CHECK PRICE ON AMAZON!!

The Dual Mode Virtual Wall Barrier

This device makes sure that the Roomba automatic surface cleaning robotic vacuum stays in places you desire it to be and away from the areas where you do not need it to be. The Dual Mode Virtual Wall Barrier has 2 modes.

In order to turn on any of the 2 modes, the dual-mode virtual wall barrier includes a switch, which flicks either down or up. The virtual wall mode is usable when the switch is “Up.”

It permits the robot to function as a wall, which could just be sensed by the Roomba automatic floor robotic vacuum. Disregarding the positioning, the robots make a trigonal field around themselves, which keeps the Roomba 805 away from them for as long as a maximum of 10 feet (3 meters).

Besides that, when the switch is turned “Down,” The Halo Mode is enabled. It does enable the robot to make protective layers across unique objects such as a bowl or a vase, so the Roomba automatic floor vacuum doesn’t bump into things and topple them over.

However, it spreads any obstacle control field over a place as large as twenty-four inches all across the place.

Filtration is Among the Best

When iRobot came to an end-gaining the HEPA certification for its filtration, there was a ton of concern in the allergen environment. The HEPA certification does let you know that the filter would collect particles down to 3 microns in size.

On top of that, This level of collecting allergen particles like pollen, dust mites, pet dander, and mold or mildew spores. But, a few years ago, when iRobot and several other big robot vacuum vendors just stopped getting the HEPA certification.

Their filters are identical; however, for some unknown points (we are guessing price), the HEPA certified label has gone away. Nowadays, Roomba boasts a “highly-effective” filter instead of any HEPA filter.

What you have to know: it’s the same filter. The high-effectivity filter still sucks up to 99 percent of in-house allergens and is only as efficient as it was before when it was having the HEPA label.

If you’re concerned regarding the HEPA rating and you are searching for a Roomba, look for those models with the high-affective filter. 805 is one of the models. But, you must also get aware that there are several filters on certain series that don’t have HEPA filtration.

These will definitely be labeled as AeroForce Standard or AeroVac Standard. When these filters still suck up particles down to ten microns in measurement. (The efficiently about eighty-eight percent of allergens), they’re not anti-allergen filters, just like the high-efficiency ones.

iRobot Roomba 805 review – Unique Design Feature

Cleaning ability is one thing; what every consumer tends to search for is a vacuum cleaner that looks aesthetically pleasing while roams around the home. The new iRobot Roomba comes with fulfilling both requirements, ideally for each of its users.

It’s an attractive and cool design enclosing captivating eye functions. But, the only downside of this particular design is that it is available in pitch black color.

Even though the device is pretty much lightweight and could be easily picked and then placed anywhere, you want it. It just weighs 8.5 pounds, as we have discussed earlier, which makes the device much portable.

Quick Cleaning

Unlike predecessors of the Roomba series, the Roomba 800 is equipped with not just powerful suction pumps, beautiful aesthetics, and efficiency filters alone. The Roomba 805 includes an advanced chipset that enables the device to operate cleaning in a more quick and sophisticated method.

It sweeps the surface in patterns and also avoids redundancy in moving around the home. Unless the sensor observes every particle in a specified direction has not been deducted yet, the vacuum cleaner doesn’t move any further onto the further point.

CHECK PRICE ON AMAZON!!

Includes Automatic Adjustment

The Roomba 805 arrives with automatic controlling functions. It includes spinning side brushes that are able to push out any kind of debris when performing the cleaning operation. The Roomba 805 makes good clean control on tiles and carpet alike.

It’s also programmed to control when cleaning laminate and hardwood floors. Also it can make transitions in between carpets and rugs successfully and effectively.

If you need a quick-paced, durable auto rechargeable, and also portable robotic cleaning vacuum cleaner where you could sit back and chill, watch the floors getting clean by themselves, then this vacuum cleaner is a perfect choice as per your needs.

With that said, right now, we also conclude our Roomba 805 article; we hope you have enjoyed it.

Let’s Conclude iRobot Roomba 805 Review

LET'S CONCLUDE

The Roomba 805 is a standard model with enough advanced technological upgrades to make it worth every penny. The huge collection bin means less time consuming while doing maintenance when the brushless extractors make the operation simple.

It’s great for homes with shedding pets and also those people with small children. It’ll get into corners and also along the baseboards where the crumbs and the hairs seem always to gather. What it will not do is sync with your phone or permit you to have voice controls.

Everything you have to run the device is right on the faceplate. Looking for a standard entry-level robotic vacuum cleaner that is easy to maintain as well as save a lot of money doing so? Roomba 805 is a viable choice.

#tumblrtextposts #tumblrstuff #vacuum #vacuumcleaner #cleaning #home

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hurt-care · 6 years

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The Diner

(Remus Lupin, M, Allergies, Sneezefic)

I started this AGES ago for a Tumblr prompt (that I believe Sen Beret may have posted?) that proposed a fic where old friends reunited at a diner but one of them was sick/allergic.

This takes place during the first war, when these guys are in their early 20s.

“What about breakfast, then?” Lily had proposed.

The whole group had tried multiples times to organize an evening together but with various duties for the Order and their work schedules, no one seemed able to agree on a date. So Lily's solution came as a welcome relief when they all found a Saturday morning that they could agree on.

The small diner in Godric's Hollow served the usual fare in a cramped space that hadn't been updated since the 1940s, but that was part of the charm.

Lily and James arrived first and claimed a corner booth with enough room for the group. Lily eased herself into a chair at the end, her wide belly pressing against the chrome-rimmed edge of the table. It was mid-April and she had only a few months to go before she gave birth.

Peter was next to arrive, rushing in with his work satchel and apologizing in advance if he had to leave early. The Ministry department in which he worked was so far behind that they'd threatened to call everyone in early for an extra weekend shift.

Sirius was next, much to everyone's surprise given his normal lack of punctuality. He staggered in, bleary-eyed and still yawning, complaining that nine in the morning was far too early for socializing, at least before he'd consumed his daily ritual two cups of black coffee. A nod to the waitress and a trademark grin was all it took to get a ceramic cup to appear in front of him filled to the brim with a rich Javanese blend.

“Moony said he could make it, right?” James asked, perusing the menu as he spoke.

“Yes, he said he was in,” Lily replied. “I'm sure he's just running a little behind.”

“He's never running behind,” Sirius murmured between sips of coffee, slowly gaining consciousness by the second.

“Moon's in two days,” James reminded him. “Could've overslept.”

Just then, the diner's door chimed as Remus elbowed his way inside with a handkerchief pressed to his nose.

“Sorry,” he said breathlessly as he approached the table, wriggling the cloth a final time against his nostrils before shoving it into his pocket and sitting down across from Sirius.

“You look like death,” Sirius said, eying the new arrival over his mug.

“Well, it's nice to see you too,” Remus replied wryly.

“He's not wrong,” Peter chimed in. “What the hell, Moony?”

“I don't really know what you're all on about,” Lily said, leaning in to kiss Remus' cheek in greeting. “Hello, Remus. Glad you could make it.”

“They're right,” Remus said, shying away from Lily's embrace. “Sorry, it's bloody awful hayfever. I've been try--”

He broke off suddenly, lips parting and eyes squinting shut in anticipation. He raised a finger to indicate a needed moment of pardon and turned away from the group, shielding his face with his elbow.

Eghh-GMPHHH!

He sneezed into his shirtsleeve, muffling the sound. With a sniffle, he surfaced momentarily before his head bobbed again, this time not quite reaching his elbow.

Nhh'GSHT! Hehh....ehHH-TSGHHT!

He squeezed his eyes tight in a moment of clear annoyance and shook his head as if to throw off the irritation.

“Goodness!” Lily exclaimed. “Bless you.”

“Sorry,” Remus repeated, retrieving the handkerchief back out of his pocket and giving his nose a quick blow. “I'm trying a new potion for the pain...you know, for later in the week. But it's making me really much more sensitive to everything than I already usually am. I was up half the night like this.”

“Leaking from everywhere on your face?” Sirius asked and James laughed at the mental image.

Remus gave them both a dark look.

“Basically that's the situation,” he confirmed, wriggling his nose with the heel of his hand. “Not sure if it's worth the potion's effects, honestly."

“I suppose you'll have to wait and see,” Peter said. “Shall we order some food then? I'm famished.”

“Of course you are,” Sirius quipped.

“I'm usually up at seven for breakfast,” Peter replied. “Some of us keep normal hours, Sirius.”

“Some of us can't be bothered to listen to you two go on at this hour,” James interrupted.

“The french toast looks good,” said Lily. “What are you thinking, Remus?”

Remus squinted at the menu through red, itchy eyes.

“I don't know, really,” he said. “I'm not sure I can taste much at the moment. Maybe an omelet...”

“There's eggs benedict, Pads,” James pointed out to Sirius.

“I'm sticking to coffee for at least the next hour,” Sirius replied.

“Rough night?” Remus asked.

“I was on rounds with McKinnon. Didn't get in until past two.”

“So, normal bedtime then?” Lily said with a grin. Sirius scoffed and took a swig of coffee.

Eh-GHSHTT!

Everyone jumped as Remus sneezed loudly and unexpectedly, barely managing to shield his face.

“Pardon me,” he apologized from behind cupped hands. “I-”

He didn't manage another word before he was sneezing again.

Ehhh-heh-tsSCHT!

“Can I take some food orders?”

The waitress appeared at the end of the table, looking at the group expectantly.

“I'll have the french toast with strawberries, please,” Lily said. “And a cup of the decaffeinated tea.”

Beside her, Remus stifled another sneeze. Ngh-tsGHT!

“Just coffee for me, thanks,” Sirius said.

“I'll do the full English,” Peter ordered, followed by James' request for the sunny-side-up eggs combo.

Ehh-TSGHT!

All eyes turned to Remus, who was still fighting a battle against a volley of sneezes.

Tshh-GHTT! Sorry...I—the-- teh---hehh-TSGHT!

“The western omelet, I think?” Lily prompted. Remus nodded and made a noise of affirmation between sneezes.

“Anything else?” the waitress asked.

Hehh-TSCHHHSHH!

“Bless you!” Lily said emphatically, putting a caring hand on Remus' shoulder. “Can I help at all? Do you want a glass of ice water or something?”

Remus finally managed to stop sneezing long enough to speak.

“Yes, that might help.”

“A glass of water, certainly,” the waitress confirmed. “I'll be right back.”

Remus slowly lowered his hands and gave his nose some wipes with his handkerchief.

“Sorry,” he repeated.

“You can't help it,” Lily said. “Don't worry about it.”

“Do you think the...you know...Moony. Do you think he has hayfever?” Peter asked. “Will we be dealing with this when you're....you know?”

“Wolves don't get hayfever, Wormtail,” Sirius said with a laugh.

“How do you know? Have you ever asked one?”

“I seriously doubt they do.”

“I guess we'll find out,” Remus replied, rubbing absentmindedly at his left eye, which was rapidly reddening. “So does this mean you'll all be there this time?”

“I think so,” Peter said. “Depends on my work schedule.”

“Same here,” Sirius replied.

“I'm in, unless Lily needs me,” James said.

“He's in,” Lily assured Remus with a smile. Remus smiled back and sniffled for what felt like the millionth time that morning.

“What kind of potions are you messing with, then?” Sirius asked. “Must be pretty new if they're causing these kind of weird side effects.”

“Something that Pomfrey read about in some healing journal and she wrote me to recommend that I try it. Yeah, it's definitely ne—nehh...eh-TSCHTT!

He buried his nose into his sleeve with a frustrated groan.

“Here we go aga—again...nh'TSHGHT! Hehh-TSGHTT!”

He stopped and wiped at his pink nostrils with the edge of his hand.

“It's new, I was trying to say,” he croaked. The waitress returned with his glass of ice water and he drank from the cup greedily.

“Well, they clearly don't have the kinks worked out of it yet,” James said.

“There's not really money in the research of these sorts of potions,” Remus said, setting down his now half-empty water glass. “It was probably invented for something else. They don't really take the different physiology into consideration. My hay-fever’s already worse this close to the cycle and something about this just magnifies the sensitivity.”

“Well, I hope they can figure out a balance that works without being too much of a burden come spring,” Lily chimed in.

“If they bother to work on it,” Remus replied hoarsely. “We'll see."

He took another swig of water, trying to wet his rapidly drying throat where a vague, itchy feeling had settled.

“How's the Ministry treating you, Wormtail?” Sirius asked, changing the subject. Remus pressed his leg against Sirius' under the table in a show of gratitude.

“Well enough,” Peter replied. “Understaffed, as usual. I said to James and Lily not to be surprised if an owl shows up for me. They threatened us all with extra weekend shifts to clear some backlog.”

Ehh-NHHGSHH!

Across the table, Remus turned away and cupped his hands back over his face.

“Sorry!” he apologized once again as the sneezing restarted. “Go on, Pete. Ignore me.”

But the spectacle was difficult to ignore as Remus' head bobbed in time with each increasingly urgent sneeze.

Ngh-TGHHT! TshGHXTT! Ehh-TSGXHTT!

He pressed the handkerchief against his nostrils, squeezing his fingers tight around the inflamed edges of his nose, stifling the sound as his other hand waved at his friends to keep talking.

TsGHT! NgGHT!

“Remus, love, you don't have to hold it in,” Lily assured him. “Don't worry about us.”

“Excuse me,” Remus managed to gasp as he rose to his feet and rushed towards the men's room, his head nodding down occasionally in time with his sneezes.

“Poor chap,” James mused, watching him go.

“Here,” said Lily, taking a napkin from the table and tapping it with her wand so that it was transfigured into a face towel. She handed the washcloth to Sirius. “Get this wet in the sink so he can wash his face down.”

Sirius disappeared into the washroom in pursuit of Remus.

He found the man leaning against a stall door, still in the throws of the sneezing fit.

NhGHHSHH!

“Hey,” Sirius said. “Lily said this might help.”

He soaked the towel and guided it into Remus' hands. Remus pressed the cool rag to his face, sneezing a final harsh Ehh-TSGHCHTTT! before he finally relaxed a moment and let the water soothe his itchy eyes and nose.

“Thanks,” he said. “Give me a minute. I'll be out soon.”

“You don't want me to stay?” Sirius asked.

“I need to blow my nose. A lot. You can stay if you want but it won't be pleasant.”

“Ah,” Sirius affirmed. “Right. I'll go if you want me to, but I don't mind.”

Remus shrugged and pressed his handkerchief to his nose, giving a gurgling blow that didn't seem to solve any of the congestion. He tried two more times, each effort less productive and more strained. Finally, he was unable to get any decent amount of air out and he stopped, taking gulps of air through his mouth.

Sirius had edged closer during the ordeal and gently put a hand on the bare curve of Remus' neck above his shirt collar.

“Poor Moony,” he said, leaning in and kissing Remus' temple.

“Stop,” Remus grumbled, shying back. “Someone might come in.”

The....affair? Relationship? Fooling around? Whatever they were calling it, it was new and so far, a secret. They were both sure that James and Lily had suspicions, but Peter was entirely clueless and no one had openly spoken about it yet

“No one is coming,” Sirius assured him. “Wash your face again and come back. Breakfast has probably arrived by now.”

“Go on,” Remus said wearily. “Tell them I'll be out in a minute.”

Sirius returned to the table and relayed the message. Remus reappeared a few moments later, as promised, looking blotchy and red-eyed but no longer sneezing. He sunk back into his spot in the booth where a western omelet now waited to be eaten.

“You alright, mate?” James asked.

Remus nodded and cut into his breakfast, taking a mouthful of egg and chewing quietly. The food had no real taste to his muddled and congested senses.

The group chatted amongst themselves, enjoying the meal and the company, but it quickly became evident that Remus wasn't having the best time of it. His omelet remained mostly untouched on his plate and his eyes were now swollen and irritated to the point of almost permanent teariness.

“Not feeling any better, eh love?” Lily remarked. “What's on your plate for the rest of the day?”

“Just need to get some edits done for a journal review,” Remus replied. “I'll hunker down inside my flat and try not to let any outside air in, I suppose.”

“Can you even see?” Peter asked. “Your eyes look pretty fucked.”

“Yes, I can see,” Remus retorted.

“Why don't you head home and one of us will come by later to check in on you?” Lily offered.

“I'll be fine,” insisted Remus. “I'll probably just end up lying low for the rest of the day if I have to. And tomorrow will be a wash, I guess.”

“And then where the hell are we going to go for the night that won't involve you being unable to breathe?” James asked.

“I think I may have to owl Pomfrey and see if it's safe to take something,” Remus responded, rubbing absentmindedly at his eyes again. He wrinkled his nose and slowly shook his head, eyes squinting shut. Turning away, he sneezed harshly into his shoulder.

Hurhhs-TSGHHT!

“C'mon, then,” said Sirius, rising from his seat and depositing enough Sickles on the table for his meal with a few extra to cover Remus'. “I'll make sure you get home okay. Not a good idea to Apparate in your state.”

Eh-TSChGHT!

Hands cupped to his face, Remus stood and turned to the side, bending a bit at the waist as the final sneeze of the small fit exploded out.

Nhh-GHSXHTT!

“Are you sure I can't stop by later with some tea and treats or something?” Lily asked.

“It's really okay,” he insisted, wiping his nose surreptitiously on his sleeve. “I think I ought to try to keep quiet and get my editing done and then get some rest.”

“Send an owl if you need anything, okay?” James added. “I'll see you tomorrow night.”

Remus nodded as Sirius began to guide him to the door.

“I'll side-along you from the alley next door,” Sirius said as they approached the exit. “Try not to breathe too much outside.”

“That should be easy enough, given how little I'm already doing it,” Remus quipped, bracing himself for the inevitable allergen-filled spring air.

They stepped out into the alley and down to the magically-marked apparition spot. Remus pressed his sleeve against his dripping nose and sniffled miserably.

“Almost home,” Sirius assured him, wrapping an arm around the smaller man's waist and hugging it tightly. “One...two....three...”

They suddenly spun and disappeared from sight, landing outside the block of flats where Remus kept a small bachelor room.

Eh-GHTSHTT!

Remus staggered forward with a harsh sneeze.

“Merlin,” he croaked as he wiped his now red and raw nose. “I thought I might splinch us but I managed to hold it ih---eh-TSGHH! ---hold in in.”

He gathered his handkerchief, turning it over in his hands to invoke the self-cleaning spell, and blew his nose aggressively.

“Let's get you inside before your nose falls off,” Sirius suggested, watching the man with a sympathetic expression.

They trudged up the stairs to the third story flat, Remus wheezing and sniffling as his efforts to breathe became more and more difficult. When they entered his small flat, Remus let himself collapse into the old beige chenille couch that dominated the centre of the room.

Ngh-TXHTT!

He sneezed into a pillow and groaned loudly. Sirius headed to the washroom in search of a towel. He returned with a damp facecloth and sat down on the sofa beside Remus.

“Here,” he said, offering the cloth. “Get some of that pollen off your skin.”

“Too late,” Remus grumbled, pressing the cloth over his swollen eyes and nose. He sat up and leaned forward, letting his face rest in the palms of his hands with the facecloth sandwiched between.

“I'm going to send an owl to Pomfrey to see if you can take another potion,” Sirius offered.

“Please do,” Remus replied from behind the towel shield. “It wasn't nearly this bad when I left the flat earlier.”

Sirius went to Remus' desk to draft a note. When it was finished, he folded it up and put it into his pocket.

“I'll Apparate over to the post office to send it,” he said. “Be back in just a second.”

Remus nodded and listened for the 'pop!' of Sirius' disappearance. It was too much of an extra cost for Remus to own his own owl, so he often relied on the local post office for sending owl mail.

When Sirius came back, Remus was reclined on the couch with his fingers pinched at the bridge of his nose.

“Okay, sent,” Sirius said. “Hopefully we'll hear from her soon. I sent a request to the apothecary for some owl-mail allergy tonic so that'll be here in a bit either way.”

“Thanks,” Remus replied, distracted. He adjusted his fingers and pinched his nose again. “Sorry, my sinuses...there's a sneeze that's stuck there or something and it won't come out.”

“Want some help?” Sirius offered. “I'm sure there's a sneezing hex I could look up.”

“The last thing I want is to be forced to sneeze more than I already am,” Remus responded, pressing his palm to this nostrils and wriggling a circle. “It's just really really itchy.”

“I have an idea,” said Sirius. “Look at my wand.”

“Does that pickup line work on other boys?” Remus asked sardonically. “I said I don't want to be hexed, Sirius.”

“I'm not going to hex you, I promise,” Sirius replied, giving his best innocent look.

“I'm not convinced,” Remus said, pinching his nose again and groaning. His nostrils were quickly becoming chapped and raw from all the irritation.

“I promise. It's not a hex.”

Remus turned his head and Sirius pointed his wand towards Remus' eyes.

“Lumos!” Sirius said and the end of his wand glowed bright white. Remus' pale eyes squinted and he turned away from the glare.

“Arghh,” he moaned, mouth dropping open and breath hitching. “That might do it.”

“Look again,” Sirius urged.

Remus squinted towards the light, nose twitching and lips trembling in anticipation.

Hurrrhhh-TSCHGHHT!

He suddenly erupted forward with an urgent, explosive sneeze that bent him at the waist. He kept one hand over his nose while the other searched wildly for his handkerchief.

Ehh-nghhGHTHHH! Ehh-TSCHHHH!

He managed to get the cloth over his nose as the fit continued. He tried to stifle the next few outbursts, but they quickly escalated back to full sneezes.

Ehh-TXKKT! Ngh-XHT! 'GXHT! Ehhhh....hehh-SGHHHHT! Heh-TSCHHHTT!

Sirius elbowed his way onto the couch beside Remus and put a hand on the man's back.

“Poor allergic Moony.”

“I don't care what Pomfrey says,” Remus panted as the fit ended. “I'm taking that potion when it arrives. I can handle the pain.”

“Here,” Sirius said, flicking his wand to summon a fresh handkerchief from Remus' bedroom. He handed over the cloth and Remus blew his nose.

“I don't like seeing you in pain though,” Sirius continued.

“I don't know if this is any better or worse, frankly,” Remus admitted, rubbing at his swollen left eye.

Just then, a tap sounded on the window and two owls looked through the glass.

“Sweet relief is here,” Sirius declared. “Sit tight. All will be better in a minute.”

He went and retrieved the potion from one owl and a letter from the other. Tearing open the parchment, he scanned the response from Pomfrey.

“Oh thank Merlin,” he said, tossing the letter on the end table and hurrying to open the potion bottle. “She says she's sorry about the side effects and of course, take a tonic. Worst case scenario, you don't see any pain improvement. Best, it works even with the allergy tonic.”

“Good,” Remus said, gratefully taking the potion bottle and drinking a healthy swig. Almost immediately, some of the redness faded from his nose and eyes and his breathing seemed to ease.

“That's better,” Sirius said.

“Definitely,” Remus agreed, taking a mostly full breath for first time in hours. “This stuff always makes me drowsy though.”

“Then lie down. I don't have anything for the rest of the day. I'll stay.”

He sat on the sofa, patting his lap. Remus stretched out, letting his head rest on Sirius' thigh. The man ran a hand through Remus' sandy brown hair as Remus closed his eyes.

Not a minute later, Remus was snoring quietly, totally exhausted from the allergies and the potion. Sirius stretched out his legs and let his head roll back, closing his own eyes. It would be several hours before either of them woke.

#DustyFic

62 notes · View notes

kichanzo · 4 years

Text

Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra Review

Samsung DEALS

Jumia

ksh120000 VIEW

Ghulio

ksh120000 VIEW

Samsung has spared no expense in terms of the features, prices, and specs with its powerful flagship, the Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra in Kenya.

The company announced on August 5th 2020, that they will release the new phone in the market. Going for around Ksh. 120,000 this is the most expensive flagship smartphone it has released.

It comes with the 5G, and yes, you pay the extra money for the 5G. Though 5 only people in Kenya might end up using it!

Put 5G aside, we review the improvements that in this device such as the S pen, cameras, software, battery capacity, and everything. We’ll also look at some reviews online from others who have used it. It’s always good to get a second opinion.

The Samsung’s Galaxy Note20 Ultra is competing against its cheaper sibling , the Galaxy S20 Ultra, which have a lot of similarities. Read on to find out the minor improvements made to the Note 20 Ultra and S20 Ultra. Then you can decide if the device is worth all that money!

What You Will Read

Things to Consider Before Buying Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra 5G

Chipset /iOS

Display

Performance

Battery Capacity

Camera

12MP AI Dual Rear Camera

Front AI Beauty Camera

Space Zoom camera

The Front Camera

Colors

Extras

1. Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra S pen Stylus

Features

Communication Connectivity

Accessories

Social Proof

Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra Price in Kenya

Alternatives

Samsung Galaxy S20 series

Samsung Galaxy Note 10 series

OnePlus 8 Pro

Verdict of the Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra Review

Things to Consider Before Buying Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra 5G

There is only one thing you should consider when buying this phone. That is fact that it heats up.

JerryRigEverything tore it apart and found out that the Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra has a multi-layered graphite thermal pad. Causing the phone to heat regardless of use.

youtube

This is where the S20 Ultra beats the Galaxy Note20 ultra. It has a copper heat pipe and vapor chamber that allows the device to cool.

Chipset /iOS

The Note 20 Ultra operates on OS Android 10,One UI 2.5

The Chipset Exynos 990 (7 nm+) Snapdragon 865 Plus has improved the overall performance. It’s its standard hardwarer the latest apps. It’s standard hardware is impressive.

Display

The design of the phone is naughty altruistically.

Samsung phones are famous for being big, and the Note 20 Ultra isn’t any different. The phone has a gorgeous screen of 6.9 inches, the device takes the perfect shape of a slab. This will make you feel as if you are using a notebook, which i guess its the whole idea behind the Note series.

Dynamic AMOLED 2X capacity touchscreen, 16M colors display is great. It sets you to enjoy your scrolling when you turn on the adaptive motion smoothness.

The resolution 1440 x 3088 pixels (~496 ppi density) is great. One thing you should know that you cant have max refresh rate at 120 and still get the maximum resolution on the screen. Though the fresh rates save on the battery life that would otherwise be consumed by the device.

The back of this smartphone has a matte finish, which looks better than a glossy finish, though its slippery than normal phones.

Both the front and the back of the phone have a Gorilla Glass Victus, which strengthens your phone and more resistance to scratch compared to normal glass being used on other phones.

JerryGigEeverything conducted a test on the phone, and he is quite impressed with it. He also found out that the device is covered with both plastic, gorrila glass and aluminum foil.

Cnet also, placed the gorilla glass under intense pressure to test its limits, turns out, it breaks. I guess glass is still glass.

Performance

The Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra has 12 GB RAM, which is enough for an android phone to perform a bunch of tasks without running out of storage. It also has a 126GB storage space. Allowing you to save up all the important content.

You can expand the storage up to 512GB using a SD card, and expense you will incur extra charges.

The processor of this phone is qualcomm snapdragon 439 Octa Core. They ensured that this flagship device is 5G enabled. This is great for those with ideas of a smart home.

Battery Capacity

The Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra has a 4500mAh High-capacity battery. You can use the screen time for up to 9 hours before you recharge it again. At night, the device is draining about 6-10% of the battery when on stand by.

You can fast charge it at 25 watts, reverse wireless charge at 4.5 watts and wireless charge your battery at 15 watts. This non-removable battery performs great for a big phone as the Note 20 ultra.

Camera

The camera owns the 20 ultra with laser autofocus. They create it in such a manner that you would think it is a Lego, yet it has a domino effect when taking photos or videos.

Everyone is raving about it’s new camera

Night Mode on the Note 20 Ultra.

This was on almost pitch black. #Note20Ultra pic.twitter.com/qGJRneKKFz

— Daniel (@ZONEofTECH) August 16, 2020

12MP AI Dual Rear Camera

The ultra-wide 12 MP AI rear camera produces okay but not amazing photos, which is basically what you would get with any android ultra-wide camera.

Front AI Beauty Camera

The selfie has 10 MP with a f/2.2, 26mm, it will make the images you take look soft. Such that even without makeup, you will appear as if you have make up on. What they are trying to achieve with their phones is to make you look good. You are free to love or hate them for that!

Space Zoom camera

Good news, the telephoto has 12 MP and 5x optical lense zoom. What’s more intresting is the fact that you can have a digital zoom up-to 50X zoom.

This feature ashamed iPhone 11 Pro Max’s because they don’t come anywhere close to it. The cheaper version of this phone, Galaxy S 20 has lower zoom count and megapixels.

The Front Camera

Finally, the big camera has a triple 108 MP with an aperture of f/1.8. You will take some incredible master pieces.

The best part is the fact that it has a Samsung pixel sensor behind the lenses. The juice is right here. The company wants to differentiate itself from Google and Apple in the photography world.

Techradar tested it and concluded it is amazing

One thing is for a fact though, you will have a blast taking photos/video. Makes sense why they are selling it for ksh. 120000 in Kenya.

Colors

The phone is available in three color Mystic Bronze, Mystic Black, Mystic White. I especially love the bronze color.

Extras

1. Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra S pen Stylus

Finally, the note lovers get to write on the best note pad invented in the technology world.

The company has improved their note app user experience. It has done things that Apple is still trying to catch up and Microsoft will never get close to. So, you can only imagine how good the note pad is.

Tomsguide said that the S pen feels better than pen and paper

You can highlight your hand writing and then copy it into plain text. You could record a meeting, then later convert it into a text file. Best part is that you can export to docs and power point and share it.

This year 2020, the S pen has been placed on the left side of the phone. making the left-handed feel more special. Whichever hand you use to write, the note pad will transform your horrible handwriting into delightful notes that is easily and understandable.

One last thing, you can now organize all of your notes into folders, taking chaos out of your note pad.

Features

The Samsung Galaxy Note 20 ultra has the following sensors:

Fingerprint Sensor (under display, ultrasonic),

Accelerometer

Gyro

Proximity

Compass

Barometer

The device is audio enabled and you can clearly hear when playing music with the stereo speakers

Communication Connectivity

WLANWi-Fi 802.11 a/b/g/n/ac/6,

Wi-Fi Direct, hotspot

Bluetooth5.0

RadioFM radio

USB connectivity

wireless charging

Accessories

When you buy the Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra in Kenya, the following should be included in the package:

Ejection Pin,

Travel adapter

Quick Reference Manual,

Data cable,

Terms & Conditions

Health & Safety Guide

Social Proof

Rodolfo Lopez a verified Amazon purchase left a 4 star review said,

Whites are a bit dull not as bright as my note 10+. Almost a perfect phone .

Cry Dante a verified Amazon purchase left a 5 star review and said

Fantastic

i am in love with this beautiful phone

John left a 4 star Amazon review and said.

I say it’s the best, with a grain of salt

– AMAZING display, I had so many high end phones, including the IPhone 11 pro max and Google Pixel 4XL & even the note 10, but this screen here bests all of them. The high refresh rate, the beautiful colors, and the better ratio (it’s a little wider than the S20 ultra for example), all this makes for an outstanding screen.

a little that cropping a 108 MP picture didn’t yield the perfect result. The videos are even better. You won’t find a phone with a better main camera on the market.

– The S pen is pretty useful for taking notes! I didn’t feel like I needed it for anything else except, may be, for a selfie, so even though it isn’t the biggest selling point, it’s worth mentioning.

– It looks great! Yup, design wise, that phone looks really good, that it feels bad putting any covers on it. I just ordered a very slim, transparent case & I wouldn’t recommend anything else.

Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra Price in Kenya

The Samsung galaxy note 20 ultra price in Kenya is about ksh. 12000. Is this smartphone worth the price of a hybrid cow? At ksh. 120,000, it had better be. This is one of the most expensive flagships released by brands in the year 2020.

But is it worth the premium price? My answer is yes. It is more than just a phone. If you can appreciate all that we have reviewed above, you would agree of the same thing.

Alternatives

Are looking for a less expensive smartphone. Here are three alternative you should look at that are worth your time and still on the same category:

Samsung Galaxy S20 series

Earlier we mentioned that Note 20 Ultra is competing against the Galaxy S20 series. The two devices have a lot of similar specs such as wireless charging, One UI, 120Hz OLED screen and they both have IP68 design on the phone.

The S20 is a great phone so long as you don’t care about the camera improvements made on the Note 20 Ultra and the S Pen. If you want a cutting edge experience, then consider purchasing the Note 20 Ultra.

If money is a factor to consider when buying a new device, i would recommend that you pick the S20. You will have a great device and save up on a few thousand shillings.

Samsung Galaxy Note 10 series

If you love the Note family and want to save money, then picking the Galaxy Note 10 is also a great option. Both the Note 10 and Note 20 Ultra have Snapdragon 865 Plus, OLED 60Hz panels, 10 MP selfie camera and a flexible front camera.

Note 10 is a relatively cheap flagship that comes with an S pen. It comes with a big battery capacity of 3,500mAh. also has a big battery capacity of 3500mAh, fast charging, and it supports wireless charging of 15 watts.

OnePlus 8 Pro

If you want to take a break from Samsung, consider the OnePlus 8 Pro. It has lots of similar features. Such as a 120Hz refresh rate, 30Watts wireless charging, Snapdragon silicon and IP68 rating.

One plus 8 Pro also has a quad main camera with 48 MP, 48 MP Ultra-wide camera, a 5MP color filter and a 8MP 3X telephoto. Pretty much of what we have seen on the Note 20 Ultra.

Verdict of the Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra Review

Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra in Kenya is a great phone. What makes it perfect is the minor improvements made by the company. Better low light photography, all options when shooting video, no fingerprint smudge on the back of the phone and the variable refresh rate saving on the battery.

Could Samsung’s Galaxy Note 20 do better? Yes, for a flagship of 2020 costing this much, they should expand the storage they are offering from 126 GB to 256 GB. But then again, every time you buy a phone there, a trade-offs you have to make.

Would i recommend you buy this phone? The answer is both Yes and No. Buying a Samsung Galaxy Note 9 or 10 would still perform a decent job and they are less expensive.

One reason why people upgrade their devices is cause the latest smartphone is super nice and flashy. But that’s not with Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra, the phone is not classy but it is a tech bump. it has better improvements from what there is on the other note smartphones. Making it worth your time and money when you buy this phone.

Check out more of our reviews here.

The Review

Samsung

4.4 Score

The Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra in Kenya sets the bar in how smartphones should behave. With it's incredible Camera and unmatched processor, Samsung has outdone itself with this one. It is the ultimate in flagship phones.

PROS

Dynamic 6.9-inch 120Hz display

Smoother S Pen performance

Very good battery life

5x optical zoom camera

CONS

It's Expensive

Review Breakdown

Battery

Display

Camera

Performancy

Value

Samsung DEALS

We collect information from many stores for best price available

Best Price

ksh120000

Jumia

ksh120000 Buy Now

Ghulio

ksh120000 Buy Now

0 notes

chevroneightlocked · 7 years

Text

so @silverfoxity wanted some angst and i am ALWAYS here to deliver

inspired by this post (by @alloverthegaf) about how insecurities in fic is awesome (also whump but that’s a given)

here we go i guess. it’s mostly under the cut because it’s nearly 2,000 words total

From a theoretical standpoint, Rodney McKay has no right to complain. He’s always had something to lord over someone, whether it was his intelligence or his arrogance. Rodney isn’t afraid to tell the world his feelings… in theory.

The room is awash with golden light, yet the instrument stands, polished black surface tinged with gold. Ivory keys refract the barest hint of light, morphing them into an orange hue. It’s been years since he touched a piano. Years since he felt the slide of smooth keys on his fingertips, the slight catch of his fingers on the meticulously polished surface.

The last time he touched a piano, he’d done nothing but wipe an insultingly stupid performance ‘pianist’s’ fingerprints from the side of the grand. He’d yelled for nigh-on thirty minutes about proper piano maintenance, all while staring down the weedy guy calling himself an ‘artist’.

He was barely more than a twig, all slim shoulders and ill-fitting suit, and Rodney sneered down at him. Sneered and spat his words, all smug crackles of satisfaction popping in his chest, until it all came to an end.

‘If you know so much about it why don’t you just play the goddamn thing?’ the tiny man demanded, face unhealthily purple with what Rodney was certain must be ire. ‘I bet you play like shit – only the amateurs who can’t play would be such assholes!’

Rodney stopped, and his muscles twitched with the sudden lack of movement; lack of anything, really. Not until the satisfaction began to sour at the edges, stains creeping in from the sides and consuming it – consuming him – until he was nothing but a mass of useless amateur. He swallowed, or at least tried, and it would help if his fucking throat would just get the memo already. Rodney chokes on it, takes a slightly unstable breath. It was enough for the mentally challenged pianist to notice, and he sneered back up at Rodney. His stupidly smooth face and sharp eyes bored into him, and Rodney grit his teeth against the urge to break out into an explanation.

‘Just like I thought,’ the little shit crowed, smarmy and pretentious. ‘Get out of here. A moron like you can’t tell me what to do.’

The words were on the tip of his tongue, burning into him. ‘Miss Jeferson, I can do better, I promise. Please please let me stay – I can be better, I can, I promise just please –‘

Rodney swallowed it, shoved it straight back down into the useless box it came from. Inhaling through burning lungs, he shook off the clutch of his own ribcage and turned on his heel. His hand clutched so hard at his own wrist he had to wear long sleeves for a week.

Rodney watches the piano now, the pristine black casing covering the intricate workings of such a beautiful instrument. His cheeks burn, and he barely stops himself taking another step, once he realizes he’s moving. There’s something sitting heavy in his gut, reaching up into his throat, and he can’t force himself any closer. If he sits in the chair, he’ll ruin it.

Just like before.

Rodney can’t tear his eyes from the piano. Barely feels the impact of the doorframe against his shoulder, the bleed of pain into his system. When he finally manages to turn, he makes his way back to the lab. A problem, math, theory: that’ll fix him. Will stop the fucking black hole in his chest, sucking everything away from him. He’s always been good at science. Always been told he’s good. Science is the once place people never doubted him. At least, not until Samantha Carter. And then, just like everything else in his life – like his piano artistry, interpersonal relations, his own goddamn home of all things – his proficiency was cast into doubt. Now, Rodney sees it in the eyes of his colleagues, his teammates, his friends, and he can’t take it anymore. Can’t take the pity, the uncertainty, the panic. Can’t stand knowing they don’t think he’s good enough to fix anything he puts his mind to.

He doesn’t know how long it takes him, but he makes it back to the lab. At least here, he can be in peace. He can pretend he isn’t his own worst enemy. Pretend he sleeps at night, instead of staring up at the ceiling and wondering why he can’t be better. Why he can’t even pretend for others anymore.

Slumping down into his chair, Rodney reaches for the hours-cold cup of coffee, hoping there’s some left in it. No luck. He swallows again, tries to keep the pressure in his chest from bursting out of him at maximum velocity.

‘Ah, Rodney,’ Radek greets, pushing up his glasses as he leans over the bench adjacent, writing a couple of lines into an empty box before glancing up again.

‘What?’ McKay snaps, too aggressively. He just can’t keep it down, can’t keep it at bay anymore. It’s building inside of him, and his jaw is stiff with the effort of keeping it back.

‘You are sad,’ Radek states, and Rodney instantly glares at him. Something inside of him rejoices – someone cares enough to notice him – but the rest pushes back, ready to fight.

‘No I’m not,’ Rodney snaps, too loud.

Radek snorts. ‘Yes, and I am not Czech. Stop lying, Rodney.’ Radek regards him for a moment, but when he speaks his voice is softer. ‘You saw the piano, hm?’

Ignoring the comment, Rodney searches forlornly in his coffee cup, hoping more will magically appear.

‘Teyla and Colonel Sheppard ordered it for you,’ Radek says, too casual, and hands him a steaming hot cup of fresh coffee.

Gulping down a burning mouthful of bitterness, Rodney grumbles, ‘and let me guess whose idea it was.’

‘No idea,’ Radek replies, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. ‘I have always wished to see you play. Despite what your instructor said, I believe you will be an adequate player.’

‘Adequate?’ Rodney squawks, indignant. ‘I’ll have you know I was the best –‘

Smiling, Radek steals the coffee cup and drinks the rest of it, waving his hands at him. Rodney isn’t even angry.

and onto number two!

Daniel would love to say he remembers to eat. Would love to say that when he does, he eats healthy; tries his hardest to take care of himself.

He doesn’t.

Daniel Jackson has an excellent memory. He can remember the most obscure runes in dialects scholars forget. And yet, he forgets to eat an apple when he’s hungry, or drink when he’s thirsty.

The days he does remember, Daniel makes a stop on the way to work. The coffee shop is open practically 24/7, and he may be its most loyal customer. Daniel has long stopped going elsewhere. The coffee does the job, and their scones are the best he’s ever tasted. He likes the blueberry ones the best, and he always makes sure to eat it as quickly as he can so Jack doesn’t steal it from him.

So it’s just another morning when Daniel wanders in at ten to 6 in the morning. He hadn’t really slept, not after the last mission. Spending time on desert worlds brought back… unsavoury memories. He can’t process the information anymore, and he finds himself awake, tossing and turning in a bed too large for just himself, cold. When he finally breathes evenly again, Daniel tells himself it doesn’t matter. That he doesn’t matter, and he’ll be okay. Jack doesn’t notice, when Daniel can’t smile some days. Doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Sam spends too long trying to catch his eye, trying to ask him without words. He avoids her. Teal’c stands too close to him, glowers at anyone who gets too close, and reaches a hand out to ground him just when he needs it. But Daniel doesn’t need bodyguards, and he shakes them off, reaches for the cold knot of hatred in his chest and tells himself they don’t need him. Tells himself the only reason they stay is because they need his skills as a linguist. Nothing more, nothing less. On freezing nights, he clutches that thought tight. Lets himself curl up, lets the misery seep from his core and infect every tiny facet of him. Daniel doesn’t know if he feels most or least like himself in those moments.

Daniel makes his usual order, seats himself in a booth in the corner, pulling his coat tighter around himself. Snow clings to his jacket, melting slowly. He can’t take it off right now, and he wishes he could, if only to save the fabric-coated seats. But he’s too cold without it, and Daniel huddles in, munching on his scone.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been before the waitress approaches him, leans over, and tops up his coffee. He leans away, trying to keep his wet coat away from her. Somehow, her chest still manages to brush his shoulder, and he says, ‘I’m so sorry, you’re all wet now, let me just,’ and reaches for a napkin to see what he can do.

‘It’s okay,’ she says, giving him a smile. Her eyes are bright and alive, especially considering the hour. ‘I like being wet,’ she confides, giving him a giggle and stopping his hand when he holds up the napkin. Her hand is soft and gentle around his wrist, almost a caress. She leans in further, and places a slip of paper on the table. A mobile phone number is written on the upward face in meticulous script. Daniel turns back to her, eyes wide. It’s clear now, exactly why she always pays him so much attention. Clear as the finest crystal.

Daniel is an idiot.

The panic kicks in next, scrabbling at his chest and pushing wildly at his insides. He should have known – should have seen it coming. But then, he wasn’t worth it, and he knew it. Knew it better than he’d ever known anything. Besides, even Sha’uri hadn’t wanted him of her own volition – this waitress couldn’t know what she was getting.

Daniel doesn’t remember what he says, or how he gets out of there. Just remembers thinking I’ll miss those scones as he runs out into the snow, and keeps running.

He slips on the snow-slick bitumen too many times to count, and doesn’t remember dragging himself up again. All he recalls is the pierce of ice-cold air into his lungs, running him through from the inside out. Still, though, he almost can’t feel it, beyond the rawness in his throat, the streams of icy water at the corner of his eyes, and the frozen mass lying just behind his ribcage, barely managing a sluggish beat.

When Jack finally finds him, curled up on a bench in a park he’s never been to, Daniel barely remembers how to breathe. Can’t, beyond the pressure in his chest. When his heart beats, it aches like he’s been stabbed. Or maybe like he imagined he’s had a heart and it’s been gone all along.

Jack says, ‘Daniel,’ and all he can do is gasp, at the touch of Jack’s hands, burning like fire on his exposed neck. ‘What have you done to yourself, Danny?’ Jack asks, voice hushed. There’s no one else here, but it feels right. Yet Daniel can’t take it, can’t take the look in Jack’s eyes, the knowledge that Jack cares about him, deems him worthy of care.

‘Jack,’ he chokes, and Jack shushes him. Draws him in, a hand on the back of his head and arms solid around him. Daniel clings to him and can’t admit to himself that he’s worth caring about, but at least he knows someone will be there for him if he ever does.

It’s not worth going in to work today.

thanks for the prompt, guys!

#neither of these have names but oh well!#this was actually a lot of fun #if you spot any errors let me know cause i wrote this at like 2:30 am #hope you like!#stargate sg-1 #stargate atlantis #doctor rodney mckay #doctor daniel jackson #bless them!#doctor radek zelenka #chevroneightlocked #silverfoxity

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