Gwiboon found herself spluttered
her mind in front of Jinki, on a ridiculous party Taemin made on Wednesday night. She
gulped the beer nervously after she realized it has been said out loud instead
of staying in her head.
The latter put down his glass and
decided to pay more attention to the girl in a navy dress.
“I said, you look hot in plaid?”
“What is plaid?”
Gwiboon almost cry as if she had
the biggest face palm ever. But unlike the other day, she just laughed. And she
blames the alcohol for making her heart became softer.
“That thing. The one you’re
wearing now. It’s called plaid, Honey.”
“Oh, this?” Jinki checked himself
with pouted lips making Gwiboon gripped her beer can tighter by such a view, “Minjung
makes me wear this. She said my black or white t-shirts are boring. So she
shoved this shirt on my face. Whatever, I need something to wear, so yeah.”
Gwiboon only nods, and smile, and
regretting her decision to approach him because clearly he already had a girl
help him to dress. And Minjung, everyone in this room knows that she is a
“And where’s Minjung now? I don’t
see her around.”
“Have no idea, last time I saw
that dino excessively hugged her and then I left for number 1, when I came back
she’s not here anymore.”
Listened to his story, Gwiboon
found him a little bit off. Who left his
girl unaccompanied in such a poor party like this?
“And you’re okay with your
girlfriend hanging out with other people while you’re here sipping God knows
what in your glass?”
Jinki’s eyes turned twice bigger
and the next second he bursts into huge laughter, “Why wouldn’t I be okay if
she’s with her boyfriend?”
“Minjung is not your girlfriend?”
Jinki shakes his head so hard his
eyes still squished by his cheeks.
“But I saw both of you came out
the same car several times.”
At this point, Gwiboon already
doesn’t care if he found out she’d been stalking him for the past two months
ever since they met on Taemin’s studio.
“Of course we came out from the
same car. Isn’t it normal for siblings to share ride?”
“Minjung is your sister?! But she..”
“Doesn’t look like me? Yeah, she
got all good genes. Big eyes, tan skin, long neck, and everything, you tell me.”
“I like tiny eyes better.”
“Really?” Jinki’s kind of
surprised because it doesn’t seem suit her appearance.
And she just nods sincerely.
“Are you saying the truth or you
just want to flirt with me?”
The smirk in his face loosens up
all the tight muscles clenched on Gwiboon’s tummy.
He chuckles and approves her
guts, “That makes everything easier now.”
“What do you mean?” She asked
nervously, getting to understand their situation.
“Well, that I know you think I’m
hot, I’m not afraid to ask you leaving this shit. I need some air.”
He sipped his drink once again, “I
“But what are we going to do?”
Gwiboon tried as subtle as
possible to put her ‘game’ face on so
she doesn’t look like a desperate teenager in front of her crush.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but
tonight we will
just eating. I’m starving to death. I saw McDonalds on the way here. Shall we?”
She snorts right away, “You just
drink. I’m not gonna jeopardize myself sharing a ride with you.”
He looks disbelief how she did
her push and pull trick on him easily. Which he’s not mad about it, though.
“I’ve been drinking shitty fruit
punch since an hour ago,” Gwiboon didn’t believe him right away so he handed
her his glass, “So, are you in or not?”
“Cheese burger won’t hurt.”
“That’s the spirit!”
Jinki jumped off the stool he’s
on, fingers busy tapping on the phone to let his sister knows that her advice
“I cannot believe I leave a party
for junk food.”
Jinki diminished their distance
and whispered to her ear, vanilla perfume seeping through his respiration
system, he almost forget what he’s about to say.
“Don’t worry, this weekend we can
do whatever you want to do.”
She got a goosebumps all over her
neck but Gwiboon actually cannot hide her excitement.
“Is this a date invitation or
Jinki doesn’t answer to that.
Instead, he just smiled and slipped his hand on Gwiboon’s shoulder, leaving the
girl beside him breathless for a moment before she leaned closer.
Taemin greets his sister on a random phone call one afternoon. As hard as she
tried to be chill about it, Eunsook cannot help but shake in panic, intrigued
by his words. She ran to the closest bench she could find and put her camera
safely on her laps.
that we’re adults, right? We don’t need to inform each other anymore like when
we were kids and used to match our scenario to lie to Mom and Dad.”
on her lips seemed readable from the other line, making Taemin snickers on his
we’re adults it means now we lie to each other instead to our parents? Wow.
Just wow, Lee Eunsook.”
remember you were the one who banned me for weeping around on anyone whom
acquaintance with him. Am I right?”
You’re always right beside this particular choice on men.”
“I just let
you know that yesterday I met Donghae.”
“Just let me
know? You think I didn’t know how sneaky you are telling me stuff just because
you are childishly curious on how I would react? Well, try harder, baby boy.”
lady. I always knew you went to Milan not for nothing.”
“Do you want
me to tell you what happened or I need to wait for another year until you
gather up your guts to ask me how it went?”
don’t really care. That wouldn’t change anything, would that?”
“On what? On
how I handle stuff? On how bad my mood right now? Or maybe, just maybe, on how
bad I weep last night?”
“No, but. Now eat your dinner and take your medicine.
Jonghyun and Minho need their parents in set. Not only one running here and
there like headless chicken trying to make sure he didn’t burn the house down
with stupid grilled cheese.”
Kibum chuckled before he took one spoonful of chicken
porridge Jinki managed to make after third trial. Fall is their favorite season
but also Kibum worst enemy, the weather change, the cracked skin, the stupid
blocked nose. It looks like Kibum catching flu on the week of Halloween become
their family new tradition.
“Thank God I married you nine years ago,” Kibum chirped with
awful nasal voice.
“You should thank yourself for believing this creep who
seemed out of his mind asking a guy completely out of his league for a lunch
Kibum cracked once again when the memory of that disastrous
lunch flashed his mind.
“Honey, Italian food is always better,” Kibum reached out
his hand to grab Jinki’s. The latter let out a bitter smile before kiss his
“Yeah, until I splattered those horrendous lasagna’s sauces
on your perfect white dress shirt.”
“I still think you did it on purpose to take me on a second
“No one purposely let people bought clothes with
neck-choking price like that, baby. Trust me.”
Jinki shook his shoulder in laughter remembering that day
when he insisted to buy Kibum a new shirt on that hella expensive brand
flagship store just because he knew it would be very pleasing and that his
brother Hyukjae working there so he wished he could get employee discount and
cut him some slack. All had been calculated well actually besides the fact that
on that day, Hyukjae wasn’t having his shift and Jinki almost killed himself
when he swiped his card letting half of his salary robbed by the checkout
Synopsis: What really happened after that hot make out between Shin and Eun-tak when they returned to Canada. An unforgettable hot night shared between two lovers who reunited and defied age, time, and the gods.
Pairing: Kim Shin x Ji Eun-Tak
Word Count: 2,568
Genre/Triggers: Mature, NSFW, Uhhh what else do I say??? lol
Disclaimer: Please do not redistribute or repost my works without my permission.
Story under the cut incase for those who are sensitive to this genre ^^
It’s getting colder. After all, it’s finally October. It’s late and you’re sitting on the railing of a small bridge. You haven’t seen anyone walk by in minutes. You hold onto the pole, admiring the dark water below you.
If you fell in, it wouldn’t be too bad. You’d be cold, and maybe bruised. But you’re sure you’d be alright. Well, that’s what he’d always tell you.
You rest your head against the cold, metal pole, remembering when you last came here.
You weren’t alone.
“Why do you like sitting here?” B/N asks, “People could get the wrong idea,”
“I like it here,” turning your head, you see his anxious face. He’s nervous, yet pretending to be collected for your sake, “And because you won’t let me fall,”
His hands are on your waist, his grip tightening every time you shift. He’s nervous with you sitting here; the drop is over thirty feet. But you’re no longer nervous.
Because with him, you feared little.
The temperature was warmer then, the water higher and louder. You tilt your head up, spreading your arms wide as the breeze picked up. His arms held you in place, you could feel his nose and lips against the back of your shoulder. That’s what you wanted to feel.
“I’m ready to come down now,” Before you can finish the last word, he scoops you up, swinging your legs around. He sets you on your feet, walking ahead of you as you catch up with him.
You embrace him from behind as he walks, trying to cheer him up, “If you tried it, you’d see that it’s not as bad as you think,”
The only response he gives is a sigh, as he pulls you next to him with his arm around your shoulder.
You find yourself looking in the direction you two walked that day. Your mind returns to the present, the image of you both vanishing and in its place, the empty bridge with the dim streetlights are what you see.
You wish there were more words to express how much the human heart could miss someone. Or maybe the words ‘I miss you’ in English failed to express the magnitude of what one was feeling. And the only way one could understand the intensity of those three words, is if someone missed another just as much.
But you missed him. You longed for him. And you ached in his absence.
You stretch your hand towards him and he reaches for yours. He seems so far away, because the bed is wide.
“Why did we get a king sized bed?” you ask.
“Because we’re greedy,” he replies, straining to reach your hand. He wiggles his fingers, as if that will make his hand grasp yours effectively.
You let your hand fall, watching him from where you lay. He too lowers his hand, looking at you in silence.
It’s moments like these that you remember. Your silent communication. The kind where the look in his eyes fills you with emotion from the words he has yet to say. Or doesn’t need to say.
He pushes himself closer, meeting you halfway.
“Come here,” he says, the faintest of smiles on his lips. You roll into him, your face against his chest. With one leg over yours, and his hand against your back, you sigh deeply against his skin. He was always there. Always keeping you close to him.
But you didn’t mind. You never did.
You’re looking ahead of you, into the dark aisle of rushing water.
You longed to feel the warm compression against your back indicating that he was behind you, holding you steady, protecting you.
But that longing is in vain and in it’s place, you felt pitiful and stuck.
How odd is it to have something one moment and it to no longer exist the next?
You close your eyes, the spot where your head is on the pole leaves your scalp cold.
“Do you know how much I miss you?” you whisper into the night. Will he hear you? Will anyone hear you?
You imagine him behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder, asking you a question you don’t have the words to answer, “How much?” he would ask.
The tears don’t come this time. They seem to serve no purpose as of late.
Your legs feel heavy from where they dangle, your fingers are numb from the cold pole. You glance around you once more, not to see if anyone’s watching you, but to hope that over the curve of this bridge, you’ll see the top of his head appear.
That you’ll see that bright look in his eyes.
And the smile that automatically forms on his lips at the sight of you.
And hearing the way he calls your name and will run to you the way he always does when he sees you sitting here to stand behind you.
But you turn away, knowing he’ll never walk towards you or smile at you again. That your back won’t have someone to lean against.
He’s far away now, not because he wished to be, but because he is.
And no one’s holding you steady in case you were to fall in right now. And you’re almost glad no one is.
Book II: The Saga of Thranduil: It is done, but not over.
On May 19, 2017, The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy’s first book, The Saga of Thranduil was completed. The first draft was sent to two trusted individuals first (one in Canada and one in California).
The full volume (currently and subject to change) is 497 pages and 30 chapters long. The 31st Chapter will be in the Epilogue of Book III: The Last Tale of Legolas Lasgalen. What comes next is Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen and doing work on the extend version of Book II: The Saga of Thranduil.
Now, for the icing on the cake, I suppose: Can you read the book?
From May 20-May 27, the first draft will be available to the public. Remember, it is the first draft and is subject to change (Tolkien did the same thing with The Hobbit, ironically). It is by no stretch of the imagination the final product (mostly because of the extended versions of Book II and Book III). I will say it is cleaner than online (somewhat). It is a work in progress. In its final version, it will be between Book I and Book III as part of the “Trilogy”. Translation: it’s 1/3 of an entire book and depending on what happens in Book I/Book III, some changes might be made and slightly change events in the book.
This is the first completed book about the life and times of Thranduil, one of Tolkien’s most elusive characters and his story is based on Middle-Earth History as given by J.R.R. Tolkien. The story is 100% original (no, Tolkien didn’t write it and neither did Peter Jackson). There are events inside that take place in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, but they are told from the perspective of Thranduil. In Book I, the story will be from the perspective of his ancestors and Book III will be told from the perspective of Legolas.
I completed this book for my father (who is sick and I miss him terribly) and was done in 17 months. I’m just proud of that because I was playing beat the clock not knowing if I could finish such a feat before my father passed away. He’s still here and I completed the draft (for the second time). This will be the final chronicle of the life and times of Thranduil in book form, meaning any changes will come from the extended versions at the moment unless otherwise stated.
Where it goes from here has begun today. The future belongs to Thranduil.–J.