Inferno Exotic Car Reventador M.V1 CS Series by ADV1WHEELS Via Flickr: ADV.1 Wheels is a global leader of custom forged wheels for high performance and luxury cars. We design, manufacture and market concave wheels for the automotive industry.
Warm rays of sunshine tickling your nose and making colorful spots dancing in front of your eyes. Trees in full, rich green. The smell of the first apple blossoms. Warm and slightly damp soil in your hands. Gardener aprons with a lot of patches. Straw hats lavishly decorated with flowers from the garden. Chocolate brown irises with dark green rims and thick, dark eyelashes. Freckles splattered all over your face. Rich meals with your family. Heavy gold jewelry. Deep but mellow voices. Luxurious but comfortable clothes. The comfort you receive from a close family member or friend. Hot chocolate and marshmallows.
Words: 22k Genre: Angst, (tiny bit of) Fluff, Drama, Soap Opera!Au Summary: Your first misfortune is your parents. Your second is your brother. Your third is your husband by the name of Min Yoongi. You will not stop until vengeance has been sought. Inspired by the idea of combining all Soap Opera/Makjang Kdrama tropes into one story. Based on this drabble. Warnings:Sham marriages, betrayals, kidnappings, sibling rivalries, deaths, amnesia, infidelity, revenge, etc. Mentions of suicide, car accidents, abuse, etc.
Your first misfortune lies within the family you were born into - a mother with a wealthy background and a father with ambitious political aspirations. It was a picture perfect family; a blissful marriage and two well rounded children, you and your older brother. But everything was merely skin deep. With the plastered smiles and exaggerated grins, as a young child, your mother would pinch you at your side to-
‘stand taller!’ ‘look at that disgusting hair, tame it!’ ‘ugh, do you not know how to act like a lady?’
The marriage of your parents was a sham, sleeping in separate bedrooms and leaving for days on end to other people. When they spoke to each other, it was cold and distant. If it wasn’t, then it was screaming and arguing. Though you never felt sadness. You never envied the children who had parents brimming with happiness. That was your reality. What could you do to ever change it? You were numb to it all.
Your second misfortune is the ambitious nature of your brother; a trait he had unfortunately inherited from your father. There was a time, so long ago that you can barely remember, a time where you could be considered close to your sibling. It was when you had no one else in the house but him, someone who cared and protected you. But along the way, with the praise of your parents showered upon the boy and criticisms thrown onto you, a gap was created which only grew with the years that came. Soon, he saw the responsibilities in his future and began to utter the same judgements that your mother always whispered into your ear.
‘We’re not children anymore.’ ‘You need to grow up.’ ‘Learn how to act like a lady.’
Despite being driven away by your one and only true companion, you should’ve stayed. If you had persisted and fought against him, maybe none of this would’ve happened. Perhaps you could’ve saved his life and yours. But the past cannot be changed.
It was two years ago that your brother was arrested for embezzlement.
Porsche 991 Turbo S ADV05 M.V2 CS Series by ADV1WHEELS Via Flickr: ADV.1 Wheels is a global leader of custom forged wheels for high performance and luxury cars. We design, manufacture and market concave wheels for the automotive industry.
//// for @hangsabove, I’m so sorry your sketchbook got stolen. I hope you feel happier really soon. ////
Dean and Cas live in the most beautiful house in the world.
The walls are bare. There’s nothing there but paint - smooth, though, not chipped, because they like changing the colours once every few months. After so long on the road, in flight, in danger, it would feel too strange to live entirely in stasis.
The floors are wood. They tried having a luxury deep-pile carpet in the hall for a while, but it felt too precious to be theirs; they’d step through it as though walking across the pelt of a sleeping beast. On the wooden floors, their bare cold feet feel right.
There isn’t much furniture. They don’t do end tables or lamps or footrests. What they do own is carefully chosen - well-kept, comfortable - but there isn’t much of it at all. Space is everywhere - wide, blank, bare.
They fill the space with what they make.
Dean cooks. In the cold kitchen with the dark counters and the hardwood floor, he makes tender roasts and toasted bread rolls and creamy mashed potatoes and burgers with sweet onions. The air is filled up with the scent of delicious food, and with the sound of Dean humming - absent and off-key - as he works.
Cas uses his hands. He makes things - carves, mostly. Started small with cups and spoons and now he calls shape and meaning out of greater nothings, makes birdhouses and bowls to feed foxes and hedgehogs. Everything he crafts has a kindness to it that fills and fills, fills empty stomachs, fills spaces.
Together, as the sun sets through the wide, floor-length windows, they dance. Gently, to the sound of old jazz, with their chests together - softly swaying. The room feels filled with the trails of gold left by their hands moving, their arms holding, their words touching places beyond physical reach.
They make so many things. Best of all the things they make is love, in every sense. They open to each other like the flowers, they ache with delight over each other’s bodies and minds and roughened, blunted hearts. They find in each other an easing of the sharper feelings; love cutting not like a knife nor striking as a flint, but holding fast like a pair of joined hands. Filling up a wide open sorrow with an endless spring of warmth and want.
In their house, there is so much space - and yet there is no space at all. It is filled.