kind of want that shirt

8

Ben & Sophie arrive at Wimbledon final, July 10 2016
(pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4)

5

Eternal

A comic dedicated to the anniversary of Beethoven’s death (March 26).
I like to imagine that my favorite trio traveled together after the show’s finale.
Also, I used screen tones for the first time :)

In my country, we bring an even amount of flowers to graves, and we give people odd amount of flowers as gifts for birthdays etc. So here, I split the two flowers into one on each grave to signify that the composers live on in a way.

Full version HERE

aren’t these the kind of matching outfits y’all wanted? 


i’ve been seeing ships with these shirts everywhere but never saw a d&p one sooooo why not?

also idk who came out with these shirts idea but if you do you could dm me their username or link so i can credit them propely.

ps: if you are seeing this in a computer and phil’s hair looks like it has radioactive poo in it i’m sorry. in my phone it looked completely normal.

This boy doesn’t have a name yet but u can tell he’s a pain just by looking at him. 

My friend informed me that Blue Moon is the name of a beer or something? In this story world it’s a band and in hindsight I should have looked up the name before using it but honestly what isn’t the name of a beer

So when the direct was on a little while ago and we saw the fe14 trailer and the SE got released for preorder with a launch date (WE’RE SO CLOSE GUYS WE’RE SO. CLOSE.) I remembered my EXTREME HYPE for this game and wanted to draw something for it ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ  but at the same time I remembered that I’m still in denial over Silas not being the gay marriage candidate so I thought of something fun to do to squeeze in both and TADA. quietly lays on the otfamily

I’M REALLY SUPER HAPPY WITH HOW THIS CAME OUT and I absolutely had a blast doing it.  It’s a simpler thing but I think that’s what was so fun about it tbh.   I had some trouble with Silas’ face at first since downward angled faces are the bane of me sometimes and didn’t draw his full chest piece cuz SCREW ARMOR but the way the interactions and expressions and just the whole thing came out makes me so proud ヾ(*´∀`*)ノ 

Every time I go out in public I wonder how many people read gay smut in their spare time

dustlines  asked:

A monster that licks Popes? It's astounding that you have 475 pages of data on something with such awfully specific criteria!

BUCKLE UP, DUSTY, THINGS ARE GONNA GET POPE LICKY.

FIRST THING the Pope Lick Monster is actually named after POPE LICK CREEK in Metro Louisville, Kentucky, and the POPE LICK TRESTLE, the 90ft tall railroad bridge the creature is purported to live under. This is the bridge!! First is 1904, second is TODAY (well, okay, 2011.)

The Pope family were REALLY BIG in 19th century Kentucky, and the best info we have suggests that the creek was named after JOHN POPE, the third territorial governor of Arkansas! He had one arm and three wives (not at the same time.) But this ISN’T ABOUT HIM. Also the trestle passes over a little river, or ‘lick,’ so that’s the best lead we have on the origins of the name!

People say the Pope Lick Monster has the upper body of a REALLY PALE guy with wide-set eyes and goat horns, and the legs of a goat. Or a sheep! They say it’s an escaped circus freak or a farmer who sacrificed his goats to SATAN, or maybe a human-goat hybrid (which is biologically impossible for a whole bunch of reasons including the fact that humans have 46 chromosomes and goats have 60 but okay.) It’s supposed to lure people out onto the trestle and then force them to leap to their deaths, or drop right off the bridge and land on cars passing underneath on Pope Lick Road. Other versions claim it has a giant rusty axe, or that it holds people down on the traintracks until they get run over! They say it can imitate a train whistle, it wails and screams, and it might have HYPNOTIC POWERS.

THIS IS NOT A REAL PHOTOGRAPH. WE DON’T HAVE ANY OF THOSE YET.

This is where things get kinda frustrating because it’s an urban legend so there’s a whole lot of ‘People say…’ and ‘It is said that…’ and I’m like, WHO SAID THAT. WHEN. WHAT’S THEIR EMAIL BC I HAVE QUESTIONS.

Um, okay, what we do know. We have a lot of anecdotal evidence dating back to the 1940s about the Pope Lick Goatman or Monster or Sheepman. Several sources say an entire Boy Scout troupe in the 50s/60s camped out near the trestle and were attacked in the middle of the night by a hairy creature that shrieked and threw rocks at them and may or may not have just been a really antisocial naked hobo guy, but I can’t find any information other than a bunch of people saying it happened, so, again, legend. We have claims of cattle mutilations and sightings of the monster leaping across the road in front of cars, and Weird Kentucky cites a guy called Doug Oller who says his grandfather saw a ‘screaming devil jumping a fence, grabbing two full-grown pigs and jumping off with them.’

Unfortunately none of the 17 Doug or Douglas Ollers in the Metro-Louiseville phonebooks are taking my calls anymore, so I can’t substantiate that claim yet.

Here’s where things get SERIOUS. The trestle is 772ft long, and at least 4 people have died trying to cross it. In 1987 Jack Bahm, 17, and David Bryant, 19, tried to cross the bridge. Bahm was killed on impact with the train and Bryant jumped, dying later of his injuries. In 2000 Nicholas Jewell, 19, died in a fall from the trestle trying to avoid the train. In 2016 Roquel Bain, 26, climbed out onto the bridge specifically LOOKING for the Pope Lick monster and got hit by the train AND fell off the bridge. People say the monster lures monster hunters and thrill-seeking teenagers out onto the bridge with its TELEPATHIC powers, but it seems like most of the time the only thing that tempts people into climbing onto the bridge is the LEGEND ITSELF. Kind of like a self-fulfilling prophecy, I guess. The fact is, Pope Lick Monster or no Pope Lick Monster, the trestle is too long to escape if you’re surprised by a train.

So… YEAH. Actual demon haunting backwoods Kentucky? Scary hobo guy throwing rocks at Boy Scouts? Lethal yet non-paranormal psychological trap?? IMPROBABLY GROSS GENETIC MUTATION? We JUST DON’T KNOW. Since the 1980s the base of the trestle is protected by an 8-foot fence and a ton of ‘DANGER’ and ‘KEEP OUT’ signs but, come on, when has that ever stopped dedicated monster hunters? Or teenagers. The answer is NEVER, I should know because I’M BOTH.

There was an independent movie, ‘The Legend Of The Pope Lick Monster’ and a stage play/film, ‘The Trestle At Pope Lick Creek.’ The monster even has its own Facebook page. And THIS SHIRT, which I kind of NEED.

If you want the full 190 minute video presentation with slides that I originally made for my Youtube channel, PM me. I just need to make sure you’re not going to share it with anyone who’s going to speed up my voice so I sound like a crazy chipmunk and put stupid circus music over it, because that’s a precaution I need to take, apparently.

Another Cute Boyfriends drawing which nobody asked for. What can I say? The newest chapter of SilenceoftheLlamas’ New Digs gave me all the shippy feelings, plus more fodder for the “Lalli and Mothman” bandwagon. ^_^

anonymous asked:

Tree Bros + 35?

“is that my shirt?”

The school day was dragging and Connor needed a hit and his drug of choice, Evan’s smile. He walked up to Evan and tapped on his shoulder. Evan turned to him nervously, as soon as he saw who it was he beamed. Connor thought his heart might explode. Then he caught sight of something. 

“Evan?” Connor started slowly, “Is that my shirt?” 

Evan looked down at his shirt and immediately pulled his jacket over it nervously, “N-no, that’s ridiculous. It’s my shirt,” 

“Evan, you do not own a single piece of black clothing. It’s clearly mine.” Connor laughed as a bright red began to cover Evan’s cheeks. 

Evan looked at the ground and mumbled, “Well it’s mine now,” 

(This is too much for me! I know I wrote it, but the idea of Evan just kind of secretly stealing Connor’s shirts kills me. I also want one that’s reverse so congrats anon, you get two) 

Evan walked back into his room, running his hand through his hair. He was stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Connor silently tucking one of Evan’s shirts away in his messenger bag. Evan coughed slightly and Connor looked up, face lined with guilt. 

“It’s not what it looks like,” Connor said quickly. 

“It looks like you’re taking my shirt. No clue why, I’m a size smaller than you. You can’t wear it,” Evan walked over to sit down next to Connor on his bed. Connor blushed and looked down at his lap. 

“It’s just, you’re going on that trip next week and I kind of,” He brought his hand up and rubbed the back of his neck, “I wanted something that smelled like you…I’m sorry that’s weird,” 

Evan smiled brightly at Connor and pulled him into a hug, kissing him on the cheek. “That’s the sweetest thing ever. I can’t believe that the Connor Murphy is really just a mushy sweet heart. Wait until I tell all my friends,” 

“Evan I am all your friends,” 

anonymous asked:

I know this ask is very weird but what do you think what does the M brothers smell like? 😁

hahaha yeah I wasn’t expecting that xD but the more I think about this ask, the more interesting it gets ! 

Ruki : You know the kind of cologne that men have, and when you cross path with a guy who has that sort of perfume, you just WANT to smell more? Well I really wouldn’t be surprised if Ruki had that sort of scent, whether naturally or not, he’d have that attractive smell that just makes you want to get closer to him. A manly scent, but still fresh and something incredibly alluring to it. 

(describing scent is so hard lol, i just know that guys with that kind of cologne….god i’m dead with just a sniff of it)

Kou : Being an idol, Kou always takes care of himself. With all the products he’d have to use for his skin and appearance in general, I think Kou would smell really good. I think he’d have more of a fruity smell, but still with a fresh side to it. I’m thinking of the scene on the school rooftop when Kou and Subaru fight over Yui and Kou embraces her from behind, she must have smelled that sweet and fresh scent enveloping her senses.   ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Yuuma : carrot and tomato smell hehe No I think Yuuma would have, a manly scent. That’s the only way I could describe it. A natural manly scent that works well to have women unconsciously attracted to him. Maaan the pheromones~ The kind of scent that makes you want to wear his shirts and smell them forever (am I going too far? probably xD )

Azusa : Azusa would have this incredible combination….sweet and spicy *_* When you’d be close to him, you could feel that overwhelming warm and sweet smell, but still with a faint spice to it… THE SMELL OF SEX He’d be unaware of it himself, but he’d have a very very very seductive smell.

the-floofinator  asked:

HELLO~ I remember you saying that you wanted to write a little Yooseven so how about "do you remember when you used to think when you were straight"? (lolol) Thank you Jo-Jooo ♡

Omg yaasss!! I’ve wanted to write Yooseven for a while omg, da new precious shippity ship shipz

thank you for sending in this very fitting prompt hohohoooooo
I should be doing homework but I’m braindead bye

❤ ~ Realistic cuddle scenarios ~❤ 


Well, this was new. It had started out as an innocent gaming night at Yoosung’s in which both Seven and him would play some Mario Party, watch a movie if they weren’t too tired already and then go to sleep. 

Maybe Yoosung should’ve expected things to go differently since it was Seven who he was going to hang out with. Even though they’d done this plenty of times before, hell, maybe it pretty much become a weekly thing for them because Seven already had a few spare boxers over at his place and apparently a hidden stash of Buddha chips that Yoosung had yet to find. 

Still, their game nights usually had a standard cycle in which Seven would arrive at least an hour late, poke him everywhere until Yoosung would screech out for him to stop, lounge on his bed before Yoosung would drag him away, and then they’d game until one of them would fall asleep. 

It didn’t matter that they were boyfriends, or anything. Nope. Their relationship hadn’t changed at all. Except for the occasional kiss, which would make Yoosung curl up and die.  

Anyway, instead of letting himself get pulled off the bed as usual, Seven had given a harsh tug and Yoosung ended up landing on top of him with a rather loud yelp. 

“What’re you— Seven!”

Shhhh.” 

Sure, they had hugged a few times, “manly hugs,” as Seven liked to call them, but this was hugging on a whole new level. This was cuddling. 

Seven had re-positioned both of them so they were lying on their sides, facing each other but his hand was on Yoosung’s side, his thumb gently massaging his waist. It was probably one of the most intimate moments they had ever experienced together and Yoosung was trying really hard not to melt under Seven’s soft gaze. 

The hand on his waist felt really warm, even through his shirt, and Yoosung kind of wanted it to stay there forever. 

Their foreheads were almost pressed together and Yoosung closed his eyes to enjoy this moment to the fullest. 

“Do you remember when you used to think you were straight?” 

Never mind. 

Yoosung opened his eyes and stared up at his cheeky               boyfriend, very offended. “Seven, not now.” 

“Sorry, but we’re being very gay right now and it just made me think of you constantly complaining that you’d never had a girlfriend before and look where we are!” 

That bastard was so enjoying this because he was wearing the biggest smirk and his eyes sparkled mischievously behind his striped glasses and Yoosung was so done

A poke war ensued but Yoosung was easily overpowered by Seven grabbing both of his wrists and tutting down at him. “You shouldn’t treat your boyfriend like that. I’m hurt, Yoosungie.”

“You literally always poke me!” 

“Yes, but I have special permission.”

“What.” 

“Just like I have special permission to do…” Seven looked down at Yoosung’s exposed stomach due to their wriggling and shifting and oh shit. “this.

Seven let go of him in an instant and practically glued his hands to Yoosung’s tummy, scratching and scribbling and Yoosung arched his back in response. 

A bark of laughter filled the air, followed by more breathy heaps of laughter and yips as Seven tickled him mercilessly. Yoosung slapped at his hands, rolled around, kicked his legs, curled up, but nothing helped because Seven’s hands were too experienced. Right because sometimes this was part of the cycle and Yoosung hated it. 

It was only a matter of seconds before Yoosung was completely stuck between his own sheets and Seven’s body, his torso under attack of those menacing fingers. 

“Get-off!” Yoosung shrieked out in vain, throwing his head back because he was laughing so hard but Seven completely ignored him and used this opportunity to blow a raspberry on his now bare neck. 

“It’s totally effective,” his boyfriend said in this dumb low voice and did it a few more times until Yoosung almost headbutted him in the process. “I guess I’ll be safer if I go for your knees.” 

As if struck by lightening, Yoosung jolted upwards and scrambled towards the edge of the bed. “No, no, no, no!” 

“Too easy.”

Of course Seven was having none of that and grabbed one of his ankles, lazily dragging him back until he could sit on his legs. Yoosung started pounding his fists on Seven’s back when he felt the first few squeezes on his kneecaps because if they went to that spot—

Seveeeeheeeeeen! No, pffff— Ah! Let me go!”

“Poor little Yoosung is too ticklish for his own good,” Seven sang loudly to overpower his boyfriend’s whiny laughter as he scribbled his fingers all over the backs of his knees and thighs. “Also, your laugh is way too cute and I need to hear it at least twenty times a day, so would you be so kind to remind me to tickle you all the time?”

A squeal was all he got in response. “I totally agree. Mario Party can wait because tickling you is way more fun.”

It was going to be a long night. 

Learning How to Love, Childhood Friends AU

Hey everyone! Sorry I’ve been so inactive as of late, university and family are kicking my ass and I’ve had a few more obligations than usual. I plan to get back to the original story ASAP, but wanted to offer this to any mystic messenger newcomers or past readers in the meantime. This particular piece was a special gift for my amazing friend @talesofbiro that I found while I was preparing for the next chapter of LHTL, and forgot that I didn’t share it here. Since I’m rather fond of this particular work, I figured I’d do so now. I hope you all enjoy it, and a very happy new year to you all despite my acute absence for the start of it!

Note: MC will be referred to as Ha-Yun in this story in the third person instead of blanks or Y/N. There are only mild spoilers for Jumin’s route.

As usual, thank you so much to all who have read/liked/reblogged/replied to my original posts. I am beyond grateful for all the wonderful reactions and excitement that followed my previous chapters. 

Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you’d like me to tag you in future chapter posts, as I am more than happy to do so!

To those of you who haven’t read the first chapters of LHTL or the Vampire Jumin fic and would like to, here are links to each:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Vampire Jumin: Of Secrets and Love

Vampire Jumin NSFW


Cavities are coming kiddies, it’s time for the sweet hurt/comfort fluff!


The Power of a Flower

Thirty minutes before his next lesson, and the monotony was as stifling as ever. He stared listlessly at the slate walls of the C&R lobby where he was told to wait with Driver Kim, anticipating his new tutor’s arrival to drive him to the Han residence. His father had wanted to show him around the office today. And though it was fun to be led around and told with sincere gravity the importance of his future, he was going back to the mansion soon. A place filled with empty rooms and an even more vacant, perpetually smiling staff; each robotic inquiry regarding the state of his health more unsettling than the last. As proud as he was to fulfill his father’s legacy, he couldn’t help the restlessness in his limbs at the prospect of returning home. He wished he could spend more days talking with Jihyun, or sitting in the garden to read, or simply spending some time with his thoughts. But whenever he expressed that desire to his father, he was always met with the same response.

“This is for your own good, Jumin,” He would say, patting his shoulder affectionately. “I know you’ll be an even greater director than I am someday. You’ll have plenty of time for that when summer comes along.”

Jumin never had the heart to argue with his father after that, conceding that he had a fair point. There would be plenty of time; meanwhile he had a necessary role to fulfill.

So he waited, ever the loyal and diligent son everybody decided he was. Eventually, Driver Kim went to retrieve the car while Jumin was left behind with the security guard as usual; a huge, vigilant mass towering before him. Under the familiar shadow Jumin let out a small sigh, his shoulders curling in as he waited. Before he could wonder what level of algebra he would be met with today–always a fascinating challenge–he jumped when a finger prodded his shoulder. Brows furrowing, he turned to meet a pair of sapphire eyes shining back at him curiously.

There stood a little girl in faded jeans and a cerise shirt patterned with ivory flowers, like the kind that grew near the playground he and Jihyun so often frequented. He frowned as a measure of apprehension deadened his limbs, confusion invading his thoughts as he wondered what it was she wanted. Another little girl and her mother trying to play house again, perhaps?

“Hiya! What’s your name?” She asked brightly from the other side of the bench.

He blinked, surprised. Had she never seen a tabloid? He fiddled with the little cufflinks at the end of his sleeves, a gift from his father. “Jumin Han.” The cool, regular shape of the smooth metal soothed him.

“I’m Ha-Yun!” She smiled when he finally responded.

He stared at her and she giggled at his blank look. Either she was of a separate mind all together, or she was incredibly bubbly by nature. Regardless, he couldn’t help but find the optimism infectious despite lingering skepticism, his shoulders relaxing in the confines of his suit as he followed her beckoning to the adjacent main hall.

“My papa’s busy fixing the lights in the offices, so I came exploring! It was boring in those big gray squares.” She grimaced as she remembered, as if the thought had been torture enough. “But I heard there was a pretty garden at the very tippity top of the building.” She whispered the last part conspiratorially, as if it was meant for his ears alone as she held out her hand. “Want to come see it with me?” It was an earnest request, no threat of unspoken disapproval or forced kindness in a single syllable. She just wanted to go see flowers, if her shirt was any indication.

He gazed at her hand for a long moment, unable to understand why he was even considering risking his father’s rage over a random stranger’s proposition. Perhaps it was something about the way those eyes sparkled at him, joyous and unrepentant. She was not in the least unsettled by his apathetic mien or the consequences sure to follow such a reckless decision. But most of all, maybe it was the way she had approached without a moment’s hesitation to invite him along for an adventure; to her Jumin Han was little more than a name, just another boy at school or on the playground.

“Do you know where the garden is?” Jumin asked quietly, still a bit wary despite his decision to join her.

She lowered her hand and shook her head, but she was no less unperturbed. “Nope, but I know the elevator had a map next to it!”

He raised a brow as he followed her with measured steps towards the company elevator at the end of the hall, surprised at how observant she was. People that had worked here for years knew nothing of the garden at the top of the building, yet she had pinpointed the location in a matter of seconds in the short time she was here. No less than that, she had also chosen a time in which the halls were veritably empty, as most employees had now returned to work after the collective lunch break that left them meandering and dashing about the building.

He watched with mild amusement as she moved as stealthily as possible, looking back and forth and grinning whenever she noticed him behind her. She was already staring at the map when he neared her position, leaning forward to trace the floor number. He gazed with fascination at the waves of hair that obscured her face–a warm golden brown like the gourmet chocolate his father loved so much–with a few strands here and there lighter than the base color. His hand lifted to touch it, enthralled with the hue, until he remembered that it wasn’t acceptable behavior and began fiddling with his cufflinks again. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable just to satisfy his curiosity.

“This one! Floor eighty-three!” She declared triumphantly, pressing the ascension button on the elevator and tapping her foot as she waited, her head oscillating to a silent rhythm.

She was so different from the other children he’d met; in her own little world despite sharing this moment with him, content to stand beside him in the silence. But then, perhaps he had little room to speak. He often overheard his instructors and father say the same thing about him with various levels of approval. And her disposition didn’t seem estranging so much as endearing. He wanted to be here and share in this moment with her, wanted to discover more about why she wanted to see flowers and why there seemed to be music in her mind and why she had asked him to come along. He had so many questions and yet he had no voice to ask them no matter how welcome she made him feel; afraid that a single word from him would break the spell and she would disappear, as fleeting as she was captivating. Instead he simply waited alongside her, entering as the door opened and watching her press the floor number with a spring in her step.

As soon as the doors closed he approached the console and utilized the override his father often did to ensure they could get to the desired floor without any interruptions, holding down the door-closing key until they arrived. Ha-Yun stared at his outstretched hand and flat expression inquisitively, but otherwise made no move to stop him.

When they reached their destination without incident she jumped out of the elevator as Jumin exited with sure footsteps, the doors slinking closed behind them. He flexed his numb fingers to coax the feeling back into his arm as she stood frozen mere steps away from the threshold, taking everything in for a long moment. He watched her expression morph from curious excitement to breathless awe, enchanted by the enormous window panes letting in every last shred of sunlight and illuminating the room full of flowers of every hue. From roses, to orchids, to lilacs, to zinnias, to any flower imaginable; they were all here. And by the looks of it, Ha-Yun hadn’t expected such a stunning arrangement or thorough display, a veritable rainbow of blossoms there for her perusal.

Jumin simply observed, her inability to decide where to start adorable. But she did eventually make a beeline for the white ones, searching the flowerbed for something as she scoured every inch. Silent as a shadow he waited, his ears trained on the elevator. He might not be in all that much trouble for wandering off, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be without the proper authorization. If anybody asked, it would be a simple matter of explanation that he was the one to suggest the excursion while she was the one to follow.

“Found it!” She hopped up with a small bloom in hand, cupping it gently in her hands and cooing over her find as he looked on with fond satisfaction.

He was taken aback when her head rose and sought him out, cobalt eyes fixating on his still form before she rose from her crouched position and approached him. His hands immediately sought out his cufflinks, restless digits pushing the metal squares in and out of their niche until she was about a foot away from him. With deft fingers, she reached forward to tuck her favorite flower into his caught pocket right beside the lilac handkerchief his father had gifted him a few months ago. He blinked and looked down as she retreated, intrigued by the star-shaped blossom peaking out from the onyx fabric.

“There,” She murmured, a soft smile on her face. “It matches your suit perfectly, I had a feeling it would.”

When he looked back to her, he noticed the flower on his chest matched the ones strewn across the bottom right corner of her shirt. “What is it called?” He asked, before he could think to wonder why the information mattered.

She had already begun perusing the orchids when she turned around to find him caressing the flower with delicate strokes of his thumb. “Jasmine, it’s my favorite!” She replied cheerfully, grinning at the sight of a faint blush on his pale cheeks.

As she continued to explore each section he returned to where she was searching before, looking for another jasmine blossom. Nothing seemed to meet his standards until he found one shaped to perfection, picking it with extreme care while he waited for her to finish. He settled for watching the wonder bloom across her face each time she recognized a familiar flower, enraptured and more beautiful than any of the silken petals surrounding her. He felt no impatience with this uncharacteristic indolence, only indulgent contentment as his silver eyes followed her unerringly. From time to time she would beckon him to observe her find, too ecstatic to keep it to herself; and each and every time he would appreciate the discovery with her. When she had finally had her fill she spotted him and trotted back with a sheepish smile, eyeing the sun’s progression in the sky with a measure of trepidation.

“We should probably get back,” She explained, concern creasing her features. “Papa will be worried. And I’m sure your papa will be looking for you too. I’m sorry I kept you so long…”

But Jumin shook his head, holding out the jasmine he picked out with a small smile. “Not at all, I enjoyed myself.” He murmured, reaching out tentatively until he shrank back when her eyes widened. But she just leaned forward, letting him place the bloom behind her ear. “Thank you for today.”

She beamed at him and took his hand within her bronze one, leading him out of the garden towards the elevator. He felt a foreign warmth pervade him from head to toe as they walked together, starting from where their hands were joined and unlike any other bliss he had ever known as her fingers closed over his. He had never felt so…comfortable, so connected to another person in his life. He had his father, who loved him dearly but was rarely ever present. There was his mother, who was often more preoccupied with keeping her figure and the latest Lucy Button handbag than being anywhere near him. There were the attendants at home who were all too afraid of losing their position to speak to him earnestly. The only bond that could rival the feeling was the one he shared with Jihyun; but there was a distinct difference he couldn’t quite place, a variation he had no name for. But it ceased to matter as they entered the elevator, the thought lost as they descended back down to the lobby. Instead, he became plagued by the thought that he may never see her again, his hand tightening slightly over hers. As soon as he did she looked over and noticed his crestfallen expression, the radiance now gone as his free hand tugged at his cufflinks.

“Jumin?” She asked. Shocked, he blinked, removed from his train of thought as he looked up with wide eyes.

“Yes?”

“We’ll meet again someday, so please don’t be sad. I’ll make sure of it, I promise!” Fierce determination hardened her expression as she gazed at him, a stubborn will that went unmatched by any he had ever seen before. So much so that he felt no doubt–despite what his usual pragmatism suggested–that she would find a way. Looking up to her tall form it almost seemed like she could move mountains to do whatever she pleased, and she was more than clever enough to achieve any aspiration with her perceptive nature. He’d always been so used to others looking to him for guidance, others expecting him to lead and decide how things must proceed that it was strange to meet an equal. She didn’t need anybody to make a decision for her, she could have taken that journey alone and been just fine.

Which begged the question: why did she ask him to come along? She didn’t seem like the type to grow lonely no matter how much she enjoyed extraneous company. So what was it that made her ask him? Had she known who he was and what that meant all along? But she was too sincere for that, nothing about their adventure felt forced so much as done on a whim within a window of opportunity.

Before he had the chance to ask the doors slid open to reveal the back of his father’s trademark suit, a finger tapping against his arm as he stood next to Driver Kim. Jumin sighed, knowing the coming hours wouldn’t be pleasant but unable to feel any bitterness or regret. He was always cautious to follow the rules, one incident wasn’t a cause for too much trouble. The worst that would happen would be an acute scolding and a demand to make up the work he missed. Otherwise his father trusted disobedience was more a matter of circumstance than haphazard rebellion, and no cause for severe retribution.

“I’ll see you later! Thanks for everything!” She enthused before she scampered off towards the stairs, climbing up three steps at a time to wherever her father likely was. He resisted the urge to go after her and make sure she didn’t hurt herself, wishing she had stayed just a moment longer. Shaking his head, he approached the pair of men and explained where he’d been, stoic and neutral as ever though his father glared with vehement disapproval. Jumin was surprised, however, to find that his gaze softened when he mentioned Ha-Yun’s desire to go see the garden, evidence of their excursion clear on his suit. Rather than a berating he was met with boisterous laughter and a clap on the back, pride beaming from his father’s face. Though Jumin didn’t quite understand why at the time, he figured it was better than being met with vitriol over something as trivial as a day’s lessons lost.

He never imagined that the magnitude of his father’s retribution would be nothing compared to the years of wondering if he’d ever see her again. As a boy his days were spent searching the playgrounds and streets for that mysterious flow of hair, memories of the sun-kissed shade of her skin chasing him as he watched the other children play tag among the flowering jasmine. Though the chances of encountering her were low, her fervency made him hopeful. He often spoke to Jihyun about what happened, appreciating his insight and optimism that he would see her again. The heart was a funny thing; no matter how focused he was his instructors would often find curious doodles of star-shaped blossoms in the corners of his worksheets.

But years passed and the potency of the memory diminished, his months consumed by preparation and study for his future position as director of the company. He would come to the decision that there was nothing to gain by seeking her out and holding on to that hope. There was no time for something impossible and futile. If she hadn’t appeared in over a decade, the likelihood that she would return was infinitesimal, and therefore negligible. It ceased to matter, and thoughts of her became scarce; she simply became another unreconciled disappointment to bury among the rest.

There would be those off days, however; as he was walking the streets surrounding the C&R building or attending another gala, when he would hear her name clear as a bell. And his head would whip around to the source, slate irises ravenous for a glimpse of her as they tore through the immediate vicinity. But it was only a lesson on how emotions made a person foolish and overzealous, his gaze pinpointing a stranger much too young or much too old to be the Ha-Yun he’d been expecting. Their hair was always the wrong color and their eyes didn’t sparkle the right way and they were woefully inattentive. Eventually Jumin couldn’t be sure what hurt more; the fact that it was not her or the fact that he could never erase the hope that it someday would be.

Just as he was beginning to defeat the habit the RFA gained a new member by sheer chance, an unexpected intruder approved by V. Though the circumstances surrounding the young woman’s entry were highly suspicious, her words were so resolute and shrewd that he had trouble believing she was a potential threat. She sounded more like a remarkable individual ensnared in a number of unfortunate circumstances, equally as confused as the other members.

Her name? Ha-Yun.

The shock struck him so hard when V addressed her that the phone fell from his hands to his desk, his blank stare looking past the dimming screen. No, he insisted, it couldn’t be. It was just another coincidence. Probability was being cruel, as per usual.

But it didn’t stop him from monitoring her responses to the members closely each day, including himself. And she proved to be perceptive, witty, and jovial; all things reminiscent of her. Even greater than that, it felt as though that tenuous connection he remembered feeling had been rekindled and strengthened with every shared conversation. He often found himself waiting during the day for the moments in which he could join the messenger, knowing that she would be there. It became a safer place for discussion than he could ever remember the chats being, his words met with equal enthusiasm and meaningful intent. Much to the RFA’s consternation, they often grew absorbed in their discourse and shared similar views no matter the opposition they faced from the others.

For the first time in what felt like ages, he didn’t feel alone.

As the saying went, however, nothing gold can stay. The excitement of her arrival was drowned in a surprising change of heart from his father, his newest companion demanding that Jumin marry her student. Convinced that it would better both Jumin and the company, his father implemented drastic and invasive measures to force his hand. No matter how many times Jumin protested with legitimate concerns and reasonable explanations that it was neither fair nor productive to force a marriage with a near nonexistent company, he would have none of it.

At an absolute loss Jumin confided in the messenger, his only resource left. Unsurprisingly, most of the RFA assumed he was exaggerating. How forceful could his father truly be? What of Assistant Kang’s increasing work load? He was just faking and complaining, other people had more difficult things in life to contend with. And perhaps they were right, his concerns were often of a smaller magnitude compared to those of lesser means.

But Ha-Yun vehemently opposed every word of it. She declared that it was Jumin’s right to decide what made him happy in life, that defying his father’s demands didn’t make him an unreasonable son or a terrible person. When his father’s betrayal had been overwhelming, she believed every word of his retelling and the genuine anguish the events had elicited. Above all else, when everybody had either doubted or abandoned him she had planted her feet at his side and extended a hand, tenacious and unshakeable in her desire to help him. Even when there was nothing he could do for her–he couldn’t even do something as simple as send her a bodyguard to watch over her under the threat of the hacker–she stayed. And it no longer mattered if she was the original Ha-Yun or not. All he knew was that she cared more for him than anybody ever had in his life, and that he wanted to keep her in his life.

He never anticipated that she would be the one to come to him, under Assistant Kang’s request no less. When he opened the door to the penthouse–confused and paranoid and desperate–there she stood. Much to his dismay, all he could do was stare, his vocal chords failing him indefinitely. Calm and radiant, she met his eyes without any measure of discomfort or reluctance.

“Hello Jumin,” Her smile was thoughtful and kind, with a hint of apology. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting so long.”

Brows furrowed, he opened his mouth to reassure her that he understood how cumbersome afternoon traffic could be, until her hand rose to place an obscuring strand of hair behind her ear. Doing so revealed animated sapphire eyes blazing with intensity and conviction, and a hair clip adorned with an intricate jasmine. All he could do was stare for a long moment, feeling as though he’d been sucker punched.

“Ha-Yun?” He managed to say, breathless.

She beamed at the recognition in his voice, “That’s me!” She affirmed before she sobered. “It’s great to see you again, Jumin. I could only wish it had been under better circumstances. Are you sure you’re okay?”

And all of a sudden, everything made sense. Because “Want to come see it with me?” sounded strangely identical to “Are you sure you’re okay?” She hadn’t been lost or confused or lonely that day. On the contrary, she had been worried about him.

Without thinking he reached out and tugged her into a tight embrace, holding her close by the waist as he buried his face in her hair. “Now I am.” He murmured lowly, as if he couldn’t bear another second mere inches away from her. Steady hands reached around to his back, soothing him with light, ataractic strokes; not in the least unsettled by his gesture. Almost as if she had wanted to hold him just as much as he wanted to hold her. The thought filled him with a hope he didn’t think he would feel ever again. “Thank you for everything, Ha-Yun.” 



Tagged: @protectjuminhan @likeaquietfantasy @ofmeldingdays @bunnycatalina @jetblckcrow @blakerose-blog @catchthespade @catm3imi @directorjumin @velvet-colored-brick @lowenchikapow @golden-kaori13 @dreams-of-a-immortal @pikachupnk @the-sloth-woman @saitoukinichirou @yoruwasu @princeyoosung @kachangasin @raechelpapaya @noctias @jukaanah @dlytrbl @naomi-pjmh @sinfulinsecret @down-the-rabbit-hole-oh @pockiemon @elantil-arcacia @mysticprincess91 @storia05 @queenphantomhive

I’m extremely posty and I semi-apologize for that not really but anyway, so tonight I stop with raking leaves and whatnot outside and I have to run to the store to get dinner and the chicken for jerking. Of course when I go to wash up before I walk out I see that I am a fright: hair freshly unleashed from a scrunchie topknot all day, kind of doesn’t want to fully descend, full of small leaves and pollen bits, shirt holey, face sweaty and flushed but NOT RASHY, no makeup. Eh, it’s just ShopRite. So I go anyway, and lo and behold as soon as I park this man is staring at me in the parking lot. Like laser eyes as I finish parking and talking to my daughter on the speakerphone. Then I get out of the car and he’s all ‘Hi, How’s your night?’ If this tells me one thing it’s this: crazy people hang out at that store, I’m obviously extremely intimidating when I actually look good and c., I should have mace in my bag.

dennis decides to get his first tattoo on a whim because he read in some dumb magazine that dudes with tattoos are perceived as 20 percent more attractive or w/e. and he’s always wanted one a little bit but he’s afraid of something so permanent. mac tries to get him to go to his fave artist but dennis ends up picking a more expensive place closer to the heart of philly. still, they go together, and mac sits opposite the tattoo artist, waiting to grab dennis’s hand at the slightest hint of pain. he’s sort of amazed when den just grits his teeth and closes his eyes. he wonders if he even needed to come. but when they hit the 30 minute mark, dennis’s skin is oversensitive and red, and, just for something to anchor him, dennis reaches for mac’s forearm. mac folds his hand over dennis’s. and they sit like that, dennis breathing slowly, and mac watching the tattoo artist carefully to make sure she doesn’t fuck anything up. when it’s over, they walk out side by side. mac is nagging dennis - he needs to WASH it and MOISTURIZE it and APPLY THE OINTMENT and LEAVE TH E BANDAGE ALONE, DENNIS. anyway they’re both kind of looking forward to dennis’s next appointment. 

Scenario: Road Trip with Mingyu

Hi~ Can you do a scenario about going on a road trip with Mingyu? Thanks a bunch!

Thank you so much for requesting! Hope you enjoy :)

Road Tripping with MIngyu:

  • Okay Mingyu would start having the windows rolled down
  • He would love being able to blast music and feel the air
  • until bugs start flying in and he would start flailing at the wheel because of a couple flies or a bee
  • He would come prepared with lots of snacks
  • “Just check the glove compartment, Y/N!”
  • he would smirk and be so proud of himself
  • however he would forget that more eating means more drinking and you guys would have approximately 100 bathroom stops
  •  Taking the wrong exit off the interstate/freeway is bound to happen a couple of times
  • but Mingyu would just smile and laugh it off with that big, dumb goofy grin of his.
  • He would let you play whatever you want on the AUX chord and would nod his head along to the beat
  • Idk for some reason I see him driving with one arm leaning out the window, if they were open, and that hand like just leaning out over the door or grabbing on up towards the roof if you know what I mean
  • Mingyu driving is just such a hot yet cute concept to me
  • Also !!!!!
  • He would see random places advertised on billboards and spontaneously be like “But it’s the world’s biggest castle ! We haveeeee to go baby!”
  • He would love having the two of you stop off at random places and buying touristy t shirts and postcards
  • he’s kind of a sap and wanted things to remember the trip with.
  • overall like Mingyu would be so entertaining to go on a road trip with??? If you ever got tired he would rap and sing a bit under his breath as you would drift off in the passenger seat.

I hope you enjoyed! Have a great day!

All of my requests are open! :)