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sweettofuki · 3 months

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Hoshina Soushirou | Sparring in the dead of night

genre: Fluff, slow burn, sexual tension. Pairing: hoshina x fem summary: y/n was training alone one night when Hoshina noticed the door was ajar. As they sparred together, they sensed a deeper tension between them. a/n: I honestly wanted to just write about how y/n licked the blood coming from her nose off smexily. So the ending might not be smooth. Petnames: doll, sweetheart. WC: 1.8k

“Fuck” you exclaimed. You didn’t dodge in time when a kick landed on your gut.

“Too slow,” Hoshina said, with a smug grin, begging to be punched off. At least that’s what you have been trying to do the past hour…

Hoshina slowly circled me. “Focus up y/n. Or not the next kick will end up not just on your stomach.”

[☆]

Y/n is a highly skilled recruit with extensive combat experience, having been trained in self-defense from a young age, and taught by her military father. Hence, earning her a top position among few recruits in her platoon, with exceptional combat abilities.

During the recruitment exam, when you donned the combat tech suit, your unreleased combat power was 11%—notably higher than the average recruit entering the defense force.

However, ever since you joined the Third Division, you couldn’t help being competitive and insecure about your strength.

During the third phase of the recruitment exam, you realized the huge gap between you and this year’s recruits in terms of strength, skill, and experience in neutralizing kaijus.

Having to compete against other recruits who had studied years of Kaiju neutralization before entering the Defence Force. Not to mention having a current unreleased combat power of 18%. Days go by as you watch your colleagues get stronger every day while you feel yourself falling behind.

What’s worse is that you’re not the only one who noticed this. Recently, the vice-captain had been pushing you harder during drills. “y/n! Three more laps!”

Under Vice Captain Hoshina’s piercing gaze, nothing escapes his sight.

[☆]

Hence why you have been staying up late at night to practice. Every night when everyone had already gone to bed, you silently make your way to the training room. Tonight was like any other, with you absorbed in your sparring session with a dummy, venting your frustrations.

Deeply lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the training room door was slightly ajar.

“Oho, working hard I see.” you got startled by your Vice Captain’s voice out of nowhere. You turned around to see him leaning against the doorframe.

“Sleeping’s part of the job too ya know,” Hoshina said, wearing his usual coy expression.

“Jesus Christ. You can’t just sneak up on me like that! How long have you been standing there??”

He chuckled. “Long enough to see that you could use some extra help.”

He slowly strolled towards me, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket.

You narrowed your eyes. “Please, enlighten me,” you said.

“First off, your form is wrong. You need to widen your standing stance and strike low to get a more powerful punch.” He smiled, slyly. Then he pushed your feet back using his leg. “Try it.”

You stare at him for a moment, processing his words, before getting into his stance and following through. BAM! The dummy flew backward.

You raised your eyebrows. “I can’t believe his advice actually worked.”

Hoshina whistled. “Nice one y/n. “

"Now.” He added with a sly grin, “Would you like me to show you more ‘extra help’?”

He said as he unzipped his jacket, revealing a tight shirt underneath that barely left anything to the imagination. His biceps strained against the arms of his shirt, emphasizing his broad shoulders, now visible without his baggy jacket. He stretched his arms as he stalked over, a glimpse of skin peeked out from under his shirt.

“Shall we begin?”

And that’s how it led to both of you sparring in the dead of the night.

[☆]

You doubled over, the pain radiating through your entire midsection. You could still feel the rush of air escaping from your lungs where he kicked you.

You tried to walk it off, refusing to let him see how much it hurt.

“Oho. Acting strong now? Not bad though, I will give you that. Ya have a strong gut. Usually, with that kick, my opponents would be sent backward like that dummy.”

You clicked your tongue against your teeth. “Fuck o—”

“I suggest you not to finish that y/n. Unless you want to end up like your colleague Furuhashi. He had to do 100 push-ups cuz’ of that.” He warned sternly. However, despite the tone of his voice, his expression said otherwise. His eyes glinted with amusement, and his grin widened menacingly.

We slowly began to circle one another, refusing to back down from the other. Our eyes locked in a deadly stare-off, beckoning the other to move first.

Tick. Tick. Tick. In silence, the clock on the wall ticks every second.

Once the second-hand clock struck midnight, both of you surged forward simultaneously. You unleashed a series of calculated strikes, testing your opponent's defenses. Your punches were swift, but Hoshina matched your move for move, deflecting each blow with precision and practiced ease.

Feeling a surge of frustration, you switched tactics, got down, and swiped your leg over Hoshina’s legs. Unfortunately, Hoshina has fast reflexes and jumps in time to avoid your attack.

As soon as you stood back up, he feinted a low kick before aiming a high roundhouse toward your head at lightning speed.

You couldn’t counter in time.

In a split second, your world exploded into pain as a powerful kick crashed into your temple. The impact sent shockwaves through your skull, and you felt liquid warmth trickling down your face.

You staggered back, stunned by the force of the blow. Blood streamed from your nose, splattering on the mat below. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear your vision. Through your blurry vision, you caught a flicker of hesitation in Hoshina's eyes before he closed in, seizing the advantage.

“As a recruit, you should always be on alert and ready for surprise attacks.” He says, throwing another punch.

Gritting your teeth against the pain, you raised your guard, blocking another aim at my midsection. You struggled to regain your footing, your head still spinning from the blow. Every movement felt sluggish, your body protesting the punishment it had endured.

You staggered back again and wiped off some blood from your upper lip with your thumb. Your eyes flickered down at your bloodied thumb. Then you chuckled before locking eyes on Hoshina, swiping your tongue to lick the blood off your upper lip. “Playing dirty are we, Vice Captain?” you grinned.

Hoshina froze, his eyes locked on the blood on your lips. Unbeknownst to you, his mind raced with several thoughts, his heart pounding faster. No matter how deeply he breathed, it felt like you were stealing all his air. Slowly, warmth crept into his cheeks.

“Fuck, I need a cold shower after this,” he thought, unable to tear his gaze away from you.

He snapped out of his thoughts and refocused on you.

Fortunately for him, despite his internal turmoil, his expression remained nonchalant.

You lunged at him once more. He countered with a punch, but this time, you swiftly dodged and side-stepped. With a surge of determination, you used his forward momentum and threw him over your shoulders.

You quickly straddled his hips and held onto his wrists, pinning him down on the mat.

You breathed heavily down at him, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

I stared down at him, his usual fox-like eyes widened with shock.

“What was that you said? As a Vice Captain, you should always be on alert and ready for surprise attacks. You should start showing an example Vice Captain Hoshina.” I grinned smugly.

A moment of surprise wrote on his face before his face became blank. An indifferent expression with a slight tilt at the end of his lips.

“HUHH? There was barely any force in that throw! And you finally landed a hit on me the past two hours.” His eyebrows furrowed.

“Pshaw. I would still take it as an improvement.” I smirked.

“Doll, if you want bigger improvements, I would suggest training more. Maybe with me, privately.” Hoshina said, lowering his voice on the last part as his warm hands gently wrapped around mine.

“W-what?” You said softly, warmth rushed to your face.

He effortlessly pushed you up and sat up as if your weight pinning him down meant nothing. In that brief moment, with his face mere centimeters from yours, you could have sworn his eyes flickered down to your lips. His hands gripped your hips momentarily... before gently pushing you off and rising to his feet. Bending down, he extended his hand to help you up.

“I meant that you can always come to me if you want to train. My door is always open,” he said, raising an eyebrow and stifling a chuckle at the sight of your flushed cheek.

“Yeah I knew that,” you mumbled.

A moment passed before you realized you were still holding his hand. Embarrassed, you tried to pull away, but he swiftly grabbed your hand back and pulled you toward him. His free hand cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

Your eyes widened in shock, but when you met his gaze, you saw his crimson eyes were just as wide.

Before he realized what he was doing, he reached for your hand, grieving the lost warmth as he interlocked his fingers with yours.

He cursed silently in his head.

As you stare deep into his crimson eyes, you feel a mixture of nervousness and excitement. The intensity of his gaze is captivating you, making it impossible to look away. You feel the rest of the world fade away as time seems to stand still, leaving just the two of you in this moment.

His grip on your hand tightens slightly, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his skin, sending shivers down your spine. The air between you crackles with an unspoken tension, and for a fleeting second, you wonder if he feels it too.

His thumb reached up to rub the blood off your lips, lingering there for a moment.

"How is your head? Is it still in pain?" he asked softly.

"Y-yeah I'm okay." You stammered. "I'm kind of getting headache now though." you added as you narrowed your eyes at him.

Hoshina chuckled lowly. "My bad doll. I swear I didn't mean to hit you that hard! I'm sorry."

He removed a strand of hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear. His hand stayed there and gently rubbed your cheek, as if to apologise.

The intensity of his gaze mixed with your anxiousness got to you, so you turned your head away.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he said softly, in a gentle command.

You followed the force of his hand as he tilt your head back to him. “If…you keep looking at me like that,” you mumbled. “You might make me think that you actually like me.”

He paused for a moment, hesitating to say his next few words.

It made you wonder if you had spoken out of turn, if this wasn't what you had imagined.

“Y/n, I—”

RINGGG

Suddenly, a burst of alarm interrupted him.

“A kaiju alert,” he said. “Couldn’t come at a better time than this..” he sighed as he looked back down at you.

“Let’s continue this after the mission, shall we, Doll?” he said.

“As long as you promise to stay alive instead of sacrificing yourself.” You said, raising your eyebrows at him.

“For you, I will.” He said as he smiled softly.

#hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no. 8 #slow burn #enemies to lovers #soshiro hoshina #Spotify

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saintsenara · 6 months

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honestly is there a single competent teacher at Hogwarts? Any teacher I can think of with more than 10 lines of dialogue is a pedagogical disaster. Very shippable disasters though, for which I am grateful because your page has made me giggle all week.

maybe Sprout.

honestly, anon? no.

that school is a basket case and the older i get the more my sympathy for cornelius fudge increases. imagine getting the call where dumbledore says "heyyyyy... so, i hired what i thought was an ex-auror who was retired from the service because of serious ptsd, gave him no teacher training, let him perform illegal curses on children for fun, and then it turns out he was an escaped convict trying to resurrect the dark lord all along. lmao."

i'd have devoted myself to trying to discredit him too.

and so, for fun and profit, i think it's only fair for us to establish an official competency ranking of the teaching staff at hogwarts during the period 1991-1998... points on for having a basic grasp of the material, points off for anyone who nearly dies in your class.

1. wilhelmina grubbly-plank, care of magical creatures

genuinely, professor grubbly-plank is the only person we meet in all seven books who seems to be an uncomplicatedly good teacher. she's got a series of well-defined lesson plans which feature a mixture of guided and independent study and which work in a tangible way towards exams, she has clear authority in the classroom but is never unreasonable or cruel, she's demonstrably able to lead a practical class which involves wild animals which might behave dangerously or unpredictably without there ever being any concerns about student safety, she takes an active pastoral role [such as when she helps heal hedwig's injured wing, reassuring harry enormously], she's collegial [she shares her lessons plans with hagrid in goblet of fire, and she refuses to criticise his teaching to umbridge], and she's admired by all of her pupils except harry [who is nonetheless begrudgingly forced to admit that she's incredibly good at her job].

plus, her aesthetic is iconic.

=2. filius flitwick, charms; pomona sprout, herbology

in joint second place, we have these two.

both sprout and flitwick spend canon seeming to be pretty good at their jobs - they have interesting lesson plans which seem to balance theoretical and practical work well and which prepare their pupils properly for exams, their pupils like them and enjoy their lessons, they're both excellent at the pastoral side of their jobs [sprout's gentle encouragement of neville is really lovely], and they're adored by their colleagues.

they lose marks for lax classroom discipline. harry, ron, and hermione are constantly yapping away in both charms and herbology - with harry and ron frequently failing to understand what they're supposed to be learning because they were too busy have a chat.

=4. remus lupin, defence against the dark arts; septima vector, arithmancy

two teachers here who earn their placement on the list by having one pupil who considers them life-alteringly inspiring.

for lupin, this is dean thomas - whose constant state of readiness to throw hands to defend his honour is one of his greatest character traits. for vector, it's hermione.

obviously, they're both well-qualified, well-prepared, engaging, and [at least in lupin's case, but i can't see why it wouldn't also be the case for vector] well-regarded by their colleagues.

they don't rank higher because lupin loses marks for endangering his students by not disclosing his knowledge that the presumed-to-be-a-death-eater sirius has a means of entering hogwarts without detection [i understand why he does this from a characterisation point of view, but it's inexcusable from a safeguarding one] and because vector teaches an elective subject which is implied to only attract bright, engaged pupils - and therefore has an easier time in the classroom than someone trying to get a student like crabbe through their exams.

5. minerva mcgonagall, transfiguration

in comes minnie mac at number five.

unsurprisingly, her solid curriculum, excellent classroom discipline, high-regard among her colleagues and pupils, support of student extracurricular activities, and investment in helping her pupils pursue the careers they want all give her points.

she loses marks, however, for the fact that she is so casually disdainful of pupils who aren't instinctively good at her subject - which suggests that she doesn't know how to adapt her material so it can be understood by every student she teaches. like dumbledore, she seems to have an identifiable favouritism for brilliant students - who she seems to permit to get away with much more than students she considers average or dull - which probably doesn't endear her to anyone who doesn't get that treatment.

on her pastoral approach, though, i don't think that it matters too much that she's not particularly nurturing - even though she's a head of house. she seems to be good at responding to genuine distress and managing genuine crises with empathy, and the "pull yourself together" vibes she takes in response to more trivial dramas is because she's a presbyterian scotswoman.

6. severus snape, potions & defence against the dark arts

the one on this list that i imagine will be controversial...

because snape is a dick in the classroom - not denying that - but he's also, in terms of his pupils' exam performance, clearly the most successful teacher in the entire school. he can fill his newt-level classes despite only admitting those with outstanding grades, and he expects every pupil he teaches to pass owl-level potions and seems not to be disappointed. hermione reveals that he does teach the theory of potions and the discipline's wider application - harry and ron just don't listen - and that she thinks his lessons are interesting.

snape loses marks - obviously - for his general vibe, although i think he should be allowed some leeway for his dickhead behaviour since potions is clearly a subject in which not paying attention and not being able to follow instructions properly is dangerous [hence why i've been a trevor hater since day one].

i suppose he should also be allowed some leeway because it's a genre requirement for a school story to have a theatrically evil teacher. but he's not getting it - since he clearly enjoys the role so much.

7. horace slughorn, potions

marks on for encouraging independent thinking and for clearly being able to hold a classroom's attention. marks off for not learning the names of pupils he's indifferent to, getting his favourite pupils drunk, and for having no follow-up questions to "hello, sir. i'd like to commit some murders."

8. charity burbage, muggle studies

entirely because i think it's genuinely admirable - and, indeed, far more admirable than the fact that the order of the phoenix all happily keep working for the state following voldemort's takeover - that she publishes an article in the daily prophet, to which her real name is attached, explicitly refuting blood-supremacist rhetoric when she must know that a blood-supremacist government is about to come into power.

marks off because the fact that even wizards who've taken her class appear to know fuck all about muggle society means that she can't be particularly good at her job.

9. firenze, divination

marks on because his pupils love him, marks off because that's a tremendously low bar to clear given... trelawney.

him telling his classes that divination is a bullshit, made-up subject is iconic, though.

10. "alastor moody", defence against the dark arts

i think it's genuinely impressive that he manages to go from being imprisoned under the imperius curse for a decade straight into planning a full year's lesson plans [which his pupils love] and doesn't have a breakdown.

marks off because of literally everything else.

=11. all the miscellaneous teachers: aurora sinistra, astronomy; silvanus kettleburn, care of magical creatures; bathsheba babbling, ancient runes

they seem fine.

14. rolanda hooch, flying

full respect to her for managing to wangle a full-time salary out of an annual workload made up of teaching one lesson [badly] and refereeing six quidditch matches.

15. quirinus quirrell, defence against the dark arts

all the proof those of us who hate professor riddle stories need that voldemort would have been a dogshit teacher, if he can't even get his meat-puppet to inspire a room full of eager eleven-year-olds in a subject which is about the coolest ways possible to kill people.

=16. cuthbert binns, history of magic; sybill trelawney, divination

they're terrible, obviously, but the fact that they remain in their jobs despite being so clearly incompetent is entirely dumbledore's fault. are you not giving the staff performance reviews, albus? come on now.

18. dolores umbridge, defence against the dark arts

umbridge deserves to be in prison, but she did at least bother to plan out a curriculum.

=19. gilderoy lockhart, defence against the dark arts; rubeus hagrid, care of magical creatures

both victims of dumbledore's "lol this will be so funny" era of hiring practices. both deservedly regarded as completely fucking incompetent by all but one defiant brownnoser. both possessing jazzy taste in textbooks.

21. amycus carrow, defence against the dark arts

he beats his sister simply because his pupils do appear to know how to perform the unforgivable curses correctly.

22. alecto carrow, muggle studies

literally nothing positive can be said.

#asks answered #where is ofsted?#albus... get the performance improvement plans out babe...#educational decrees they could never make me hate you #safeguarding tonite? safeguarding tonite queen?

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reds-skull · 2 months

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Revenant Side Stories

Story IV: Price

[Konchar] [Graves] [Gaz] [AO3]

This one is a little different from the other side stories, but I have to say I had a lot of fun diving into the way Price experiences his powers from his POV.

This one is probably the most plot-relevant story, in relation to part 2. Hope you enjoy it!

The human mind is a deceptively complex subject. No person thinks the same way, Johnathan has found - some see images scrolling by, vague hieroglyphs symbolizing thoughts. Others narrate their day-to-day life, to themselves or to an imaginary audience. Once, he came across a woman, who, being deaf from birth, imagined words as hand signs.

He could take decades studying a single person, exploring the connections in their grey matter. If he wasn’t devoted to keeping his hands dirty to keep the world clean, John would’ve considered working in a field more suitable for his powers.

As it was, the people he comes in contact the most become the subjects of his investigations.

The first of his boys was the hardest. John met Simon merely a few months after his own Reaping, while the grasp he had on his powers was far weaker. He remembers the first time he arrived at reading distance from the Ghost; the sharp, fractured mind of the then-Sergeant was like a physical ache in his own, and he had to shamefully retreat to the bathroom to vomit.

They were both newly not-quite-dead, both far too powerful to allow back to the field while they didn’t have a tight leash on their abilities. So, they trained together.

Simon, or Ghost as he insisted on being referred as, really shouldn’t have been cleared to stay in the military. John didn’t have to be a shrink to tell, the choking feeling of the Sergeant’s memories and flashback almost bringing him to his knees countless times.

The kid went through worse than most veterans have. He had the powers to match.

Limbo. An ability never seen before in the entirety of recorded human history, the first revenant of the Void Reaper. The higher brass saw it as a cheat code for warfare.

John saw it as a defence mechanism of a broken man.

Ghost’s mind was his first, and perhaps biggest, hurdle as a commanding officer and as a revenant. It took weeks before he could stand to be in the same room with him for longer than an hour, months for the inky, tar-like miasma coating each of Simon’s thoughts to clear.

Ghost began to trust him. See that John is the closest one to really understand what made him a revenant, the fundamental reason of Limbo’s existence: It was never about being an off switch to hostile soldiers, like General Shepherd treated it.

Limbo was a world in Simon’s full control, a place where for once in his life, he could make sure he wouldn’t be hurt.

But that wouldn’t be apparent, from just watching him on the field, from reading mission reports on his unmatched powers. No other soldier, General, or Spiritulogist saw what John saw.

And while he tried to explain, it all fell on deaf ears.

John carries many regrets in his life, but allowing Limbo to become a hostile realm toward Ghost might be his worst one.

Guilt isn’t an uncommon emotion among soldiers. Some hide it better than others, but Captain Price learned to see through mental walls a long time ago. While he didn’t have the opportunity to peer into many revenant minds, it was even more prevalent in theirs.

That is to say, Kyle Garrick shouldn’t have surprised him.

He met the young Corporal barely two weeks after his death, the sight of crushed bones still terribly fresh in his mind. It didn’t deter Price like Ghost has - he has learned a lot since, lived through worse - and instead intrigued him. Call it morbid curiosity, but the sheer amount of care Kyle has for each and every soldier on his team, dead or alive, was a sign he will go far, in Price’s eyes.

That value, as admirable as it was, was currently eating the young soldier from the inside. Before he could take Gaz under his wing, he was forced to watch from the sidelines as the regret and shame weighed on Kyle’s heart. It gave him a considerable amount of comfort, to watch the man grow when they had the chance to work together.

Despite knowing both of them, Price wasn’t sure how Ghost and Gaz would handle a mission together. He knew they would be as professional as ever, but Ghost’s reputation precedes him by many paces, and it unfairly emphasizes times when he either was out of control due to the unimaginable weight of his past, or under orders.

So it came as quite a shock when Ghost not only complimented the Sergeant, but in his mind thought he would be content with working with Gaz again.

Price was already meaning to get Gaz on the 141, but seeing how well the two mashed with each other made him all the more certain of the need for the taskforce. He initially pitched it to the higher brass with an explanation of the tactical benefits of gathering their strongest revenants and training them together, allowing for the soldiers to explore unique and powerful ways to combine their abilities.

But secretly, it also allows Price to keep an eye on them, be their commanding officer, and make sure nobody will take advantage of those otherworldly powers without taking in consideration that maybe, despite already dying, revenants aren’t any less human than their fellow soldiers.

And for a long time, it was them three, against whatever fate threw at them. The taskforce gained infamy as the only revenant-exclusive squad in the world, mission after mission joining a long line of successes.

It wasn’t all perfect behind closed doors. Ghost’s Limbo continued to be hostile towards its owner, forcing him to work alone. Gaz was still burdened, and while having other revenants around him helped, showing him he’s not alone in his struggles, sometimes it was not enough.

Their team had their flaws, but it was better than any other alternative they had.

Then, Soap found his way in.

Sergeant MacTavish was an odd revenant, even among the unusual. From the first time meeting him, Price noted just how much the Scot seems to repress, even within the comfort of his own mind. Peering in, it was as if thick concrete walls were erected around his thoughts, sectioning off the different parts that made up Soap.

His personal file wasn’t much better - full pages blacked out, especially any pertaining to his Reaping. Price knows the smell of red tape, and Soap’s file was reeking with it.

It brought him years back to Simon, the way both of them appear to be afraid of themselves.

He decided to assign them both to a simple mission. Ghost resisted at first, as he always does when Price tries to get him out of his shell, so to speak. Luckily for him, and unfortunately for Ghost, he has the final word as a Captain.

It ended up a shitshow, because it always does when Price needs it not to. Or, that’s what he thought at first, hearing the initial reports.

Ghost’s demeanor was almost somber when Price asked him about Soap. Regret, and what Price could define as the feeling of missing out, surrounded the Lieutenant’s thoughts. Something about Soap caught his attention.

It took months before an opportunity arose, and an incredible effort from his side to not spill those thoughts accidentally (lest his plans fail, and his boys become disappointed), but Price managed to convince his superiors that the taskforce needs a new member. That member, of course, being Soap.

Price did not foresee just how much that addition will change his team. To say he regrets it would be a lie… but knowing what he knows now, he might’ve considered it longer.

Seeing how happy the three of them are, how things simply click better with Soap around, Price believes he would’ve made the same choice again and again.

Price came across a few revenants in his life, gazed into their thoughts more than once. Each of them were wholly extraordinary. The experience of dying and meeting a Reaper alters one’s mind irrevocably.

Out of all of those revenants, there’s only one that made Johnathan Price feel an innate sort of dread, one whose thoughts were disturbing enough to keep him awake at night for weeks after their short meeting. One that forced his own to a breaking point, made Price physically hear the creaking of his crumbling brain attempting to process what it is seeing.

That mind being, Vladimir Makarov’s.

John’s Reaper isn’t of the chatty kind, the one that tries to control its revenants with an iron fist. For the most part, it let him do as he pleases, occasionally warning him from this mission or another.

The sudden shift between their world and his Reaper’s realm never ceases to send a bolt of shock through him. He has observed minds when they were brought to distant places beyond their understanding. It made his eyes bleed.

This one is no different.

“R-Reaper. To what do I owe the honors?” John asks, wincing as a headache attacks him, brain overstimulated by the shifting shapes around him, concepts he has no words for appearing and disappearing with a blink.

“You are to be sent on a mission in a few hours.” the Reaper responds, a wild mass of flashing lights, like synapses of a starless sky. Price’s gift allows him to see the hidden messages between the words.

“Interest. Warning. Fear.”

…Fear…?

What… could make his Reaper… afraid?

The ancient voice continues, “You will be asked to kill a man. A revenant.”

“Danger. Blood. Enemy.”

John’s brows scrunch in confusion, “Reaper-?”

“You cannot kill that revenant. Under orders of Fate, you will not kill that revenant.”

“Command. Terror. Fate.”

John opens his mouth, to ask one of the billion questions swirling in his mind, but the synapses flash, his body gets the feeling of falling, and-

John gasps, eyes rapidly taking in his surroundings. Back in his office, kicked out of the Reaper realm before he could let out a peep. He sighs, wiping sweat from his brow, nape still tingling with the wrongness of his Reaper’s messages.

Something is scaring his Reaper to obey… ‘Fate’. John’s not sure what exactly that is, but he knows who will.

He’s about to punch in the number of the resident Spiritulogist on base, when a knock sounds on his door. “Open!” He calls loudly, his mind already supplying him with the orders the rookie is about to tell him.

They have a mission lined up for him, and he’s to be debriefed immediately. The rookie mumbles as such, and John waves him off.

His stomach churns in a way it hasn’t for a very long time.

“Bravo 0-6, what’s your status?”

Price brings a hand up to his comms, “solid, in position, no sign of the target.”

The watcher copies his response, clicking off channel. John swallows thickly, adjusting the hold on his sniper. On paper, this mission should be simple - a man named Andrei Nolan has been observed to be making moves in favor of several international criminal rings. The SAS needs him dead, and Price is here to make sure of that.

The intel suggested a possibility of the man being a revenant, but with no confirmed Reaper, the information doesn’t help him in the slightest.

The port he’s overlooking is said to be housing missiles in some of its shipment containers. Nolan will arrive to buy them from a local arms dealer. They would’ve not sent someone like Price usually, but not only did Nolan evade capture several times, he recently ramped up his activity, pointing to a new employer.

Any other day, Price would’ve killed him with no hesitation. Today, however, the words of his Reaper echo within his mind, dread spreading through his synapses, the emotions that coursed through the interdimensional being now flowing through him.

Reapers don’t lie, and his certainly doesn’t mince words. If it didn’t see a reason to warn John, it wouldn’t have.

There wasn’t enough time to explain that to his superiors, though. Humans don’t understand the connection Reapers and revenants have, hell, they barely understand Reapers as a concept, let alone their intricate oddities.

He inhales deeply. John hopes he’s close enough to read Nolan, when he finally shows up. Perhaps the man’s mind might have a clue as to why his Reaper needs him to stay alive.

And as if his thoughts have been heard, Andrei Nolan shows his face. Or… is that Nolan? The description given in the brief fits him, black hair, brown eyes, Eastern European man in his 30s, wearing a black suit and a red tie. But…

His left eye is closed, lower lid pink like it’s infected, and Price can’t tell from the distance, but… there seems to be a red line, almost like a tear, drawn down his cheek.

Price frowns, adjusting the zoom on his scope, analyzing the face as much as he can while the man moves. The seller arrived already, and is now showing “Nolan” the goods, but he doesn’t pay mind to him. The left eye seemingly confirms the revenant status, something about it is unsettling in a Reaper’s way, but if that’s the case, wouldn’t the intel note that?

“0-6 to Watcher.” Price mutters, eyes not straying from the supposed target, “I’ve got eyes on a man fitting the description, but something doesn’t line up.”

“This is Watcher, what is the problem, Lieutenant?”

“His left eye is shut, red marking down his left cheek. Sign of a revenant, don’t know who’s.”

The line goes quiet for a few beats, “...standby, 0-6.”

The crease between his brows deepens, John sighs and waits. The alleged Nolan and the seller are still discussing something, probably pertaining to the deal.

After a few long minutes, his radio crackles, “Watcher to 0-6, we’ve consulted Dr. Novikov.”

The head Spiritulogist of the SAS regiment. If there’s any non-revenant he could trust on such matters, it’s him, “what did he say?”

“No PID. Nolan has not been documented to have markings like the ones you’ve described, and they’re impossible to acquire after Reaping.”

“...So we don’t know who this man is?”

“Negative.”

Price shuts his comms for a moment to curse. He radios back in, “Watcher, requesting permission to move closer to target.”

“Explain your reasoning, 0-6”

“I want to use my powers on him. Check his thoughts, might give us an ID.”

The Watcher’s voice becomes muffled as they talk to another person in the room, “granted. Make sure to not be seen, Price.”

“Copy.” he answers, adding under his breath, “not a bloody rookie, am I…”

He leaves the sniper on the hill he previously perched on, preferring to go as light as possible. The target and the seller have moved since the conversation with Watcher, opening a shipment container and examining its contents. With their backs towards him, Price weaves between containers, climbing up a few to get a better view of the guards.

His range on complete strangers is shite as ever, a disadvantage he can’t train out of him. John stays low, sticking to the sharp shadows cast by the steel boxes, creeping closer and closer to the target.

The target is still focused on the illegal missiles, and he needs to step just a few more meters to get into range-

The man sharply turns, his eye locking with Price’s. A chill goes down his spine, and he freezes in place. He couldn’t have noticed him.

Price’s muscles don’t dare move, thoughts both reeling and dead still, as the man raises a hand, and slowly, slowly peels his left eyelid up.

The red line on his cheek continues up into the eye whites, going all the way into his disturbingly crimson pupil.

The seller stares at the target, expression confused when he is ignored. The target steps forward, and John has to force his legs to stay put and not run, because every single cell in his body screams of danger.

“Danger. Blood. Enemy.”

The target enters his range, and smiles. But why would he smile? He has no reason to, because he doesn’t know that Price is a Revenant of the Mind, doesn’t know the limits of his powers.

He doesn’t. He can’t.

And yet when their thoughts link, the first words he can farce are…

“Johnathan Price… just on time.”

John’s thoughts escape his mind before he can get a semblance of control on them, questions like “you shouldn’t know my name, how do you know my name?!” and “who are you, what Reaper fucking reaped you?”

To that, the target smiles with perfect, unnaturally white teeth, “you should know by now, people like me and you operate in realms considered impossible by most, Lieutenant.”

Price grinds his teeth, forcibly pulling his mind back, taking control of his powers, of what the target sees, “you’re not Andrei Nolan, are you?”

The Target chuckles, “you’re far more pathetic than I expected.” the image in his mind is not of Price, but of the entire SAS. “No, I’m not Nolan. I’ll let you know my true name, because rest assured, Johnathan, we will meet again.”

Price scoffs incredulously. There’s no doubt in the revenant’s mind, despite stating something he couldn’t possibly know.

“You do not believe me.”

“I’ve read enough minds to know an overconfident one by now, mate.” Price glares.

The revenant’s grin widens, peculiarly pleased. “It appears that I need to provide evidence for my claims. Very well.” he sweeps two fingers on the red marking on his face, a sort of thread materializing between them. Price’s breathing picks up, something in the revenant’s mind poking at his, a red haze enveloping his thoughts.

He takes half a step back, eyes wide and staring at the thread hanging from the revenant’s fingers.

“I can promise you, Lieutenant, you will not stay in disbelief for much longer.”

The thread shoots forward in a sudden rush, Price stumbling back, but no man or revenant could escape those unnatural strings.

The moment it wraps around his throat, images begin flashing in his mind.

A burning city, smell of flesh overwhelming his senses.

Emptiness. Living statues, covered in darkness.

Endless skies, clouds and stars, moon and sun, falling and falling and falling.

Piles of broken bodies, some familiar and others not, all far too young to be dead.

A photo passed towards him, of the very revenant that is invading his mind. The smell of alcohol burns at his nose.

Realms beyond his own, a fabric weaved with crimson strings. Hands, knitting it together. Three eyes, identical to the revenant’s.

Words.

“Fate”

“Unescapable. Indestructible. Unchangeable.”

“Nothing but a puppet on red strings.”

A cruel smile, human teeth grafted onto the blood-red skin of a Reaper. Suffocating satisfaction, unfathomable knowledge, power great enough to bend Reaper will.

“Under orders of Fate, you will not kill that revenant.”

“The Revenant of Fate.”

“Vladimir Makarov.”

The string snaps.

Price finds himself on all fours, shaking. The screaming around him doesn’t die down, and it takes him minutes to realize it comes from his mouth. Little red tears drip between his hands, his eyes crying blood.

The revenant - Makarov - laughs. In his thoughts, the sound bouncing in his cranium, unescapable.

“When I tell you we will meet again, Johnathan, I do not lie.” Makarov says, condescending. “But for now, our business is done.”

He feels Makarov leave his range, not before he says, “you should consider yourself lucky, Lieutenant Price. Not many receive this gift, to see their own fate. Until next time.”

John doesn’t dare lift his gaze for what feels like hours, the shaking in his limbs taking long minutes to subside. Eventually, the dread in his gut lowers enough for him to look up.

The seller’s body lays dead in front of him, shipping containers still full to the brim with missiles. Makarov didn’t come for them.

His only goal was Price.

“This is Bravo 0-6 to Watcher, how copy?”

“...Price?! We’ve been trying to contact you for hours, where have you-”

“Target was not Nolan. He wasn't after the missiles, either.”

“Lieutenant-”

“What do we know about the Reaper of Fate?”

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod soap #cod ghost #cod gaz #cod price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john price #vladimir makarov #revenant au #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #cod fic #cod fanfic #and there he is. mr makarov himself #hope i managed to make him scary... hes supposed to be like an anomaly even among revenants #you might want to remember the name of Spiritulogist #also i liked reframing Price's actions from the first part with this #the way he (unlike ghost) prefers to follow orders from Reapers #i really want to finish the side stories asap #bc after that i just need to make the comic to start off part 2 #the side stories will be kinda necessary to read before part 2 so i think ill make a summery of them for ppl that dont want to read all tha #not to spoil anything but the nexts ones i got planned are Farah (maybe Alex)#a character im keeping secret for now #and a reaper to end the side stories

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lily-blue · 7 months

Text

13 reasons why | reason no.12: they care about their customers' health

☆ characters: barista!seokmin & uni student!you (Dahee - ‘99 liner) ☆ genre: coffee shop au, slice of (uni) life ☆ summary: after a failed mock-test makes you realise that you aren’t ready for your midterms, you do everything you can to cram the curriculum before your exams; even if it means consuming too much sugar and caffeine that Seokmin simply can’t turn a blind eye to ☆ words: 8,7k ☆ taglist: @dat-town

➼ chapter index

You were the first person in your family who had gotten into university or decided to pursue any kind of higher education, really, once they received their high school diploma. Hence, the pressure to perform exceptionally had been huge from the moment you had submitted your application. Not because your mom and dad were the typical Asian parents who tried to live their life through their children, demanding success where they had failed, but because most - if not all - of your extended family members thought that the money your parents spent on your education was a waste. And they never failed to bring the issue up during birthday celebrations and other family gatherings that for some reason none of you were allowed to skip. Feeling too young and powerless each and every time, your good grades were your only weapons with which you could shut them up.

However, recently, you had gotten pretty immersed in your new hobby, which obviously had a negative effect on your studies. It had started out innocently: about a year ago, this lovely coffee shop you and a few of your university friends frequented had thrown a free open mic night and you had performed an original song. Obviously, the lyrics had been heartfelt albeit amateur, the beats hadn’t always blended together nicely and your singing voice had never been trained, but you had enjoyed every second of the show and the audience’s supportive reaction. The staff had also been super nice, hence you hadn’t hesitated to sign up for the next occasion. And the occasion right after. If you had wanted to be honest, there couldn’t have been more than two events throughout the year that you hadn’t attended. You loved writing and singing your own songs too much.

Your improvement was undeniable, but it had taken a lot of effort and time, which you didn’t always have. Or more like… You shouldn’t have had if you had still taken your studies as seriously as you had done at the beginning.

In your defence, you hadn’t noticed how far behind you had fallen in your theory class until your professor had given you all a mock test two weeks before midterms and you had gotten back your results five days before your actual exam. You had scored twelve points out of fifty. Yet, even with the proof on your desk that served both as a reminder and a motivator, even a day later when your initial shock should have died down, you still couldn’t believe how miserably you had failed.

You let out a groan as you flipped another page of your notebook, trying to find those notes that could have helped you understand the slides on your laptop to no avail.

Why had you thought it had been a good idea to draw musical notes and treble clefs in your Theories of Applied Chemistry notebook? At least, the half-finished lyrics made some sense; you could never know when inspiration hit.

Trying not to mull over the horrible life choices you had made in the past few months four days before your midterm exams, you turned another page and sighed. You reached out to your cup with your eyes on your messy handwriting and took the paper straw between your lips, resisting the urge to chew on the soft material between two sips. This action wasn’t as de-stressing anymore since plastic straws had become a public enemy. You would have rather not had the paper melt in your mouth quicker from your saliva.

The unmistakable sound of the end of your straw meeting an empty cup genuinely surprised you even though, in the back of your head, you knew you had been in the coffee shop the whole day and it must have been over an hour since your last order. Cramming and not falling asleep from how boring these theories were didn’t fit into the same sentence without caffeine.

It would have been easier to raise your voice and ask for a refill like you had done numerous times already that day, but your body could have used some exercise, so you decided to stand up and walk towards the end of the line in front of the counter. This way, you could also take a look at their pastries and sandwiches, soothing your hunger past your usual lunch time. You had been so focused on your useless notes, you hadn’t even noticed you had unintentionally skipped your favourite meal of the day.

The line in Coffee Carat was a bit longer than usual as it was a beautiful Saturday afternoon when many locals spent their time in cute coffee shops whether with friends, potential lovers or partners. For a brief second, you let yourself wonder when you would have the time to go on lovely coffee dates with a guy who awoke butterflies in your tummy, but you pushed it aside way before it was your turn to order. You didn’t have time for relationships. Your hobby had already taken up a lot of your non-existent free time and look where that had gotten you.

‘Excuse me, miss. What can I get for you?’ The barista behind the counter cleared his throat, making you realise that it might not have been the first time he tried to get your attention. Still, the smile on his face looked genuine, hence you pushed your slowly growing anxiety down and offered him an equally honest albeit tight-lipped grin. It was the best you could do under pressure.

(One of the customers behind your back made sure that you knew that unlike the barista, he wasn’t paid to be patient. Jerk.)

‘I’d like to have a Vanilla Sweet Cream cold brew and two pieces of ChocoLate,’ you pointed at the chocolatey cupcakes behind the glass display, smiling as you skimmed through all the creative names they had for their sweets. It was just another thing you liked in this particular coffee shop.

One could have said that staying at the same place that had caused your demise was stupid, but you really liked the atmosphere of Coffee Carat, and the small stage in the corner actually kept you motivated: looking at the equipment, you knew exactly what you might have needed to give up on if you hadn’t put yourself together. You would have rather never sung again then let your family members roast your dear parents for paying for your university just so you could fail your classes.

You really hoped things wouldn’t have gone that far, though.

‘If you do not mind my suggestion, let me recommend you one of our decaffeinated drinks instead or something with less sugar and caffeine. I could not help but notice that this is your sixth cup today and while it is none of my business, consuming so much…’

Although the barista’s voice was gentle and he used formal language, his lengthy analysis on your coffee consumption made you feel as though you were at one of your obligatory family gatherings, hence you zoned out for a second.

‘...they are both very delicious. What do you think?’ His question reached you in an unstable state of mind, your head full of memories of your aunt Yeojin comparing your future career options with your Chemical engineering degree to those who worked at Olive Young. Like you would only be able to sell perfumes and scented body lotions with the knowledge you were trying to acquire while you were a university student.

‘I think your boss wouldn’t be too happy to hear about you refusing to give your customer what she ordered and getting all personal with her,’ you spat, a tad dramatic even to your own ears, but it was already too late. The words were out of your mouth and they weren’t kind. No, they were nasty like you were one of those entitled Karens you liked to laugh at when you were watching Youtube videos.

‘Actually, I am pretty confident that Seungcheol hyung would also refuse to give you your sixth cup of cold brew in less than six hours,’ the barista insisted, and you pressed your lips together to avoid saying something you most probably would have regretted the next second. Especially because you liked chilling and studying at Coffee Carat and you loved performing your songs on their open mic nights. If this Seokmin guy had been on a “hyung-dongsaeng” basis with his boss, you should have tried to refrain from getting on his nerves.

So you cleared your throat and softened your voice, determined to save what could still have been saved after your bitchy comment.

‘Look, I appreciate your concern and your boss’ concern, too, it’s touching, seriously. But next week is midterms week and I really need to shove months of skipped lessons into my brain this weekend if I want to be able to study for my other tests as well,’ you pleaded, and it should have been ridiculous, how you needed to beg for that vanilla-flavoured cold brew you had just ordered when it was one of the more pricey items on their menu. Shouldn’t they have been happy that you were willing to pay for it six times on the same day? (Another life choice you were most likely going to regret in the near future.)

‘Well, I’m also a uni—,’

‘Dude, can you just shut up and do your job? Give her her freaking coffee and let us move on with our lives. I don’t have all day,’ the same jerk from before spoke up, leaning closer to the counter and simultaneously invading your personal space by putting one of his palms on the wooden surface.

You were about to remind this impatient dude of public manners when the look on Seokmin’s face filled your throat with guilt, rendering you speechless. He looked so defeated, you had this inner urge to apologise for this whole scene your actions had created and ask if he had been still okay with preparing you one of the low-caffeinated drinks on their menu, but it was too late. He sucked it up and nodded with an obviously forced smile. Then, he turned his back to you and started to make your cold brew.

The entire time you were staring at the barista’s back, there was this teeny-tiny voice inside of your head, nagging you to apologise, but a part of you also felt that saying sorry might have made things more awkward and you hated the thought of making the situation worse. Therefore, you shut up and swallowed your own discomfort in order to help everyone forget this unnecessary ordeal easier.

‘Thank you,’ you mumbled under your nose when you eventually put your hands on the tray that had your coffee and chocolate cupcakes, then slid the small amount of change you had gotten back into the tip jar they had next to the cash register. You usually didn’t entertain the tipping culture even at diners where the food was otherworldly because it wasn’t part of your culture, but this money went for the events they organised in the coffee shop - including the yearly charity gift exchange in December -, so it did make you feel a tad better.

Though, you were relatively under the weather during the rest of your stay at the homey café. You kept stealing guilty glances at the busy barista and at one point you became so distracted by the self-blaming thoughts in your head that you ended up going home hours before closing time, which had been your initial plan for the day.

You would have liked to say that your shame kept you away from Coffee Carat until the next open mic night, but the atmosphere at the coffee shop was perfect for studying and a lot more motivating than your dorm room or the school library could have ever been. Therefore, after a more or less relaxing good night sleep, you gave yourself a peptalk in your tiny bathroom and left the building before your roommate woke up.

You took a seat in one of the corners half an hour after opening and started your day with a big cup of Coconut cold brew and a chicken-mayo-tuna sandwich that was closely the best sandwich you had ever tasted in your entire life. You had three whole PPTs to relearn that day and while the amount didn’t sound too draining at first hearing, each one had at least thirty slides, so you knew there was another long day ahead of you.

Taking a sip from your drink, you let out a content hum and opened the first document. It was useless stressing over inevitable inconveniences, so you decided to get down to work. The less you pondered over the seemingly impossible task ahead of you, the easier it became to concentrate on your studies. If you had learned anything since you had started university, it would have been how taking one step at a time worked best for you. You got overwhelmed so easily whenever your focus was on how much more you needed to do instead of just working through your endless to-dos slowly yet steadily.

Three hours and close to forty slides later, you decided to take your first study break and ordered yourself a slice of well-deserved mango cheesecake along with your third cup of caffeine-infused refreshment. Since you hadn’t seen the barista from the day before when you had arrived early in the morning you didn’t think too much into how unhealthy your order was until someone put them on your table and you took a quick sip from your drink. It was subtle, but it tasted sweeter; upon close inspection, it also looked a shade darker than it had done the first two times.

The furrow between your brows deepened as you took another tentative sip. It took you a few seconds to realise what the problem was. Though, the realisation did hit you the moment your eyes met the barista who had served you.

‘Look, if I fall asleep over my laptop and fail my exam, not only me, but both of my parents will be dragged through the mud at every family gathering for at least a decade, so please, for the love of God, bring me the cold brew that I ordered,’ you begged, a little dramatic and a year ago, when your grades had been a lot better, you might have called the barista out on caring about your health a bit too much (or maybe on taking an interest in you), but right now you weren’t so entertained by his behaviour. Sure, too much caffeine was bad for you, it wasn’t like you hadn’t known it before he had mentioned it the day before, but it was only for one week. You only had to pull through this one week and then… Then, you could have come up with a better study method than cramming at the last minute and drowning yourself in a dangerous amount of cold brew.

Agrr. Why was this guy so difficult? It was only your third cup that day, and you hadn’t had that much of a hard time falling asleep last night. These should have meant something!

‘I obviously don’t know too much about your situation…’ Seokmin started, tentative with the way he chose each and every word as though he could sense that it was a very sensitive topic for you and you weren’t just throwing around big words to justify your obsession with these drinks. You gulped and didn’t cut him off, which he clearly took as encouragement, because his smile turned from solemn to caring. ‘But I’m also a university student. I’m currently doing my masters, so I know how these weeks can be. Especially when you care about your performance.’

Stealing a glance at the black screen of your laptop, suddenly you felt like your break was taking too long even though you knew it wasn’t true. You had been working hard in the past three hours and you couldn’t have pushed aside your studies a mere ten minutes ago. Still, the reminder of how much more you needed to force into your schedule today if you wanted to score high on your tests made you more anxious than anything. You had no idea where this conversation was going, but you didn’t like it one bit.

You wanted to tell him to get to the point and leave you alone. You also wanted to get a new drink, but you demanded neither. Mostly, because you felt like the latter was a waste of your breath and the former would have sounded like something your aunt Yeojin would have said and that thought alone unnerved you a lot. You just wanted to be left alone.

You put your empty hand on your keyboard and pushed a random button. The screen with the second PPT on came back to life immediately.

‘What I’m trying to say is… there are better and more effective ways to study last minute,’ the barista said and you sighed, disappointed with the way your coffee’s sweet taste lingered in your mouth. You liked sweets. You believed that consuming sugar kept you energised, but it was still off-putting. Most probably because it wasn’t what you had wanted to reward yourself with and only a few were cool enough to like these kinds of unexpected surprises. You definitely weren’t one of those go-with-the-flow girlies. Especially when you considered how much money you had left at Coffee Carat in the last twenty-four hours.

‘This is what’s working for me,’ you retorted half-heartedly, with one eye already on the next slide about LCP theory. ‘I don’t have time for experiments.’

You were harsh, you didn’t need to be a genius to be self-aware, but every word that had left your mouth was true. The last weekend before midterms wasn’t the most ideal time to find those study methods that worked best for you. You had to push through these upcoming days with what was familiar and most importantly, with what was working for you.

‘I could help with that. Not to brag, but I’m pretty awesome at time management, too,’ Seokmin said with his full chest, which kind of made it sound like bragging, but you didn’t call him out on that. Instead, you cut off a bite from your mango cheesecake with your fork and lifted it in front of your slightly parted lips.

You slid your gaze from your laptop to the barista as you pulled the dessert off the cutlery.

‘I have seven exams next week. It’s too late to chance tactics,’ you claimed, overly sure in yourself. What he was offering you might have helped in the long run, taking he was telling the truth and wasn’t exaggerating, but you had too much on your plate at that moment to even play with the thought of considering it. ‘Knowing myself, I’ll order some more in an hour or so. Please, make sure to prepare my drink correctly.’

Inwardly, you were proud of how calm your request sounded despite the unwanted attention this barista was constantly giving you that weekend. He was nice, you had to give that to him. Your mother would have definitely liked him for looking out for you even after you had refused to listen to him (and not just because she preferred green tea over coffee every hour of the day), but at that moment, a knight in shining armour was the last thing you needed. It didn’t matter that he was handsome.

Where that last thought came from, you had no idea, but you quickly shook it off. Whether he was easy on the eye with his sharp nose, puppy eyes and that lovely mole on his cheek didn’t matter. Your studies did.

Hearing the barista’s defeated sigh, you fought the urge to praise him for finally getting the memo. You would have liked to think that you were a nice person and it was only your nerves being on the edge that turned you into such a menace. You would have also liked to think that Seokmin was partly at fault. He was too nosey for his own good.

Whether he was so pushy with other customers, too, you didn’t dwell on it. These details had no significance to you, because they could have only led you to massive overthinking and the capacity of your brain was already close to its limit. Ligand close packing theory; you had to focus on ligand close packing theory.

An hour and a half later you were still very much awake when you got the low-caffeinated version of your beloved coffee and a sugar-free croissant on the side; however, close to eight in the evening, when your eyes became way too heavy to keep them open without some extra help, you welcomed the espresso on the house with a satisfied smile on your face. As you were taking one small sip after the other while hovering over your notes, you noticed that cutting back on your daily coffee intake helped with its effectiveness a tiny bit. Not that you would have ever said that out aloud.

You refused to say that out aloud.

You had one written exam on Monday because you had taken Western European business and management as one of your electives that semester, and you were happy to start with such an easy, computer-based exam as the instant results - you scored 95 points out of 100 - gave a huge boost to your confidence. You felt almost invincible as you waltzed into Coffee Carat around two with your laptop and your notes for tomorrow’s oral exams.

‘I’d like to have a decaf vanilla latte and three of those Unstoppaballs,’ you said as soon as it was your turn in front of the counter, your mouth watering at the sight of the white chocolate and orange flavoured balls.

‘No cold brew this time?’ Seokmin’s sassy question was more shocked than teasing, and you just shrugged with a hidden smile in the corner of your mouth. You still didn’t feel like you could admit that sometimes less was more, but your order could have been taken as a white flag, so did you really need to spell your surrender out to him to understand? Nah, he wasn’t stupid. Pushy? Hell the freaking yes. But not stupid.

Based on what you had seen of him since you had become a regular at Coffee Carat, he could pick up on social cues just fine as well.

‘I’m feeling energised today,’ you decided to entertain him a little while you were looking for your wallet in your backpack and received your order with the same, subtle smile on your face before you took a seat at one of the empty tables in the back where you could study in relative peace. Sure, you couldn’t have made people stop talking around you like in the uni library just because you were sitting in the corner, but you preferred the light background noise to the silence anyway. It helped you concentrate; whereas, your thoughts were usually all over the place when you had nothing to shut out.

Doing a silly little dance on your chair as you were waiting for your laptop to turn on, you allowed yourself one sneaky glance from above your shoulder at the barista, who was busy preparing the next customer’s drink, then fished your notebooks out of your backpack and got down to work. If you could successfully answer all three questions at the end of each one of your slides by eight, you would have two extra hours to prepare for your Theory of Applied Chemistry test on Wednesday. Not an easily achievable goal per se, but you wouldn’t have called it impossible, either.

Dead set on your goal for that afternoon, you had already worked through two third of your notes when your stomach gently reminded you that you needed more fuel to keep up the good work. However, before you could have finished up the quiz you were using to test how much of the lesson you remembered, someone placed a Chocolate latte and a banana cupcake between your laptop and your abandoned tray.

‘I didn’t order these,’ the words were out of your mouth before your brain could have made the assumption that both the drink and the snack were on the house, because things like that never happened to you. Sure, you were pleasant to look at in a gentle, less outstanding way if your parents and friends’ opinion was anything to go by, but in today’s society it was rare to approach someone just because. Meeting strangers was easier online, and most people still met their future significant other through friends.

You shook your head when you realised you were overthinking it. A future significant other? What were you thinking?

‘I know,’ Seokmin gave you a sunny smile, his cheeks a tad rose-tinted close to his ears. ‘I was just thinking… So, you are doing so good so far without deliberately poisoning yourself. What else could deserve a reward if not that,’ the barista semi-asked, semi-exclaimed with a soft giggle, making you feel less offended than you had been when the word “poison” had fallen from his lips. Tsk, as if a week’s worth of excessive amounts of coffee had ever killed anyone. He was such a drama queen material, it was laughable.

‘Thanks?’ You tried to show your gratitude without making it sound like you were suspecting him of doing something inappropriate, like spitting into your chocolate latte because you had been talking to him from such a high horse the last two times you had crossed paths. ‘Isn’t it too much sugar, though?’ You raised a brow while you reached out for the drink.

You put the straw between your lips and took a huge gulp from the latte. It tasted delicious, a lot less sweet and a little colder than you had initially thought. Neither of these two was a real complaint, though.

You didn’t expect the genuine laugh that Seokmin gave you when your unintentionally sassy question registered in his brain. And you anticipated it less when your lips curved upwards due to how dorky he looked with his crescent moon eyes, all thirty-two of his teeth more or less on display.

‘I made sure to get you one of our new, sugar-free cupcakes. And the sweetest thing in your latte is the chocolate itself. A mix of cocoa powder and melted chocolate actually,’ he said, his smile not wavering as he added: ‘I do like to think that I’m a man of my word, so no, it’s not too much sugar. I wouldn’t do that after all that scolding,’ he reassured you as he lifted his hand to his neck and scratched the sensitive skin under his ear a couple of times.

‘It does sound less hypocritical now that I heard your explanation,’ you agreed with a soft hum, offering him a bite from your cupcake that he declined with a light shake of his head.

You were contemplating whether you should have A) asked him what you could have helped him with as he was clearly stalling by your table, B) said thank you for the freebies once again before the silence could have stretched too long or C) reminded him that your midterms took an entire week, hence you still had a lot of studying to do that afternoon.

In the end, due to your indecisiveness, it was Seokmin who broke the silence first.

‘I actually have something for you. Let me grab it real quick, it’s in the changing room,’ he said, and before you could have objected or even acknowledged his words, he was on his way to the staff only area.

Since you had read many YA books when you had been in elementary and high school, you had a couple of ideas of what could have been going on, but all of your groundless fantasies failed you when the barista rushed back to you and your gaze finally fell upon an ordinary albeit new-looking notebook. Confused, you looked up at Seokmin with deep furrows on your forehead and between your eyebrows.

‘What’s this?’

‘Study materials,’ he stated, like it should have been obvious. You reached out for the blue notebook with half-curiosity, half-scepticism and skimmed through the first couple of pages. There weren’t many texts in it, but the pages that were filled were filled with an unexpectedly beautiful handwriting. ‘You said you don’t have time for experiments, so I made sure to pick the most effective study methods for your exams.’

‘You made this for me?’ You asked, and in any other situation, you might have felt stupid for asking about something so obvious, but at that moment you were incapable of forming any other sentence. He had mentioned it earlier that he was also a university student, which meant that his midterms were either around the corner or at the same time as yours. He was also working at Coffee Carat in his free periods, which left him with less free time than most students in your program had.

Yet, he had put great effort into searching for healthier studying methods for you: an almost complete stranger with non-existent coffee addiction. His thoughtfulness, albeit unnecessary, pulled on your heartstrings.

‘Yeah. I think you should start with the Feynman Technique even if you don’t have anyone to talk to, because that works for the majority of people and we wouldn’t want you to lose time on techniques that might not work for you during your exam week, but I made lists of pros and cons at the end of each technique with a short summary, so you can choose whichever you like, obviously,’ he rambled as he stepped beside you and leaned a tad more into your personal space, so he could flip the pages of the notebook in your hands, showing you what he was talking about.

You especially liked the little drawings around the pros and cons lists.

‘I…’ you cleared your throat, looking for the right words. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

Seokmin offered you an understanding smile and upon realising how close his face was to yours, he straightened his back and took a step further from your chair. Or so you assumed because you didn’t want to think of the possibility that he might have put distance between the two due to your gaze unintentionally falling on his lips. Nah. You had not done that, you had just not.

Had you?

‘You don’t have to say anything. I just hope it’s helpful, and that I didn’t cross any boundary. Again,’ he assured you at the same moment a female barista called for his name from behind the counter.

Seokmin snapped his head in the petite girl’s direction, then looked back at you and the blue notebook in your hands. With a smile, he bowed slightly, urging you with his eyes to go back to your latte and studies.

‘Hwaiting!’

The cute, balled up fists the barista gave you left you speechless.

And as determined as you were to not waste any time that afternoon, so that you could have some extra hours to prepare for your Theories of Applied Chemistry exam, as badly you had lost track of time after your conversation with Seokmin. You were aware that it hadn’t been his intention to burst your serene bubble, but you couldn’t help yourself. You just had to see every page, study every study method he had picked for you before you would have gone back to your notes.

This was how you had royally messed up your study schedule once again. Just when you had gotten on the right track after long weeks of procrastination. A shame, really. You were kind of disappointed in yourself when around closing time, you eventually left the coffee shop.

So to say, you were surprised when you got back your test results and you managed to score at least a B on each one of your exams would have been an understatement. You were beyond speechless and absolutely thrilled at the same time. It was almost overwhelming.

It was also most definitely the result of both your hard work and Seokmin’s help with finding the right studying technique, because those endless slides you needed to work your way through had become much easier and faster to memorise after you had started to explain the topics to your rabbit plushie in the simplest way possible. You had also adjusted the famous Pomodoro Technique to your own aims and needs and had taken a ten-minute-break after every fifty minutes of cramming/studying. It had been intense, but it had been worth the back pain and the temporary sleep deprivation.

Since most of your professors had opted for paper-based written exams, it had taken a whole week to get your grades, but that meant that the day you heard back from your results, you were more or less back to normal: you drank only one cup of coffee every morning and ate less sugary goods despite how much you loved their taste. You also tried to sleep at least seven hours each night after you had spent the previous weekend in bed (safe for those inevitable occasions when you had needed to eat, drink and use the bathroom). Long story short, you had enough energy to take a small detour on your way home, visiting Coffee Carat with one purpose in mind.

You wanted to thank Seokmin and maybe brag a little about your academic achievements.

Practically vibrating once you realised that the barista was indeed working, you waited for your turn in front of the counter impatiently yet respectfully. You had already shown this guy your shameful Karen side; you didn’t want to remind him of how you could be on your worse days. Especially not on a fantastic day when nothing should have been able to ruin your mood, not even the long line at your favourite coffee shop.

‘Hi,’ you greeted the barista immediately, your happy smile wider than he might have ever seen, which should have been a warning sign to tone it down a little; however, you were too thrilled to act like a normal human being with a healthy amount of inhibition.

Luckily, instead of looking at you weirdly, Seokmin decided to match your vibe.

‘Hi there. Are we having a good day today?’ He inquired despite the smaller crowd behind your back. ‘What can I get for you?’

‘An ice chocolate, please, and a mango-peanut butter sandwich,’ you ordered and waited until he reached for the metal tong to grab your sandwich before you casually added: ‘By the way, I passed each one of my exams with flying colours. Your notes helped a lot. Thank you.’

And just like that, the easy part was out in the open. However, it was only a tiny part of the real reason you had come to the shop on a day when you had no classes to study for, no open mic night to sing at and no friend to hang out with. Obviously, your gratitude was bigger than a few nice words.

‘I’m happy to hear that. I could tell you were working really hard,’ he praised you, making you feel not only better in your skin, but more confident as well. Therefore, even though you had had the perfect plan (giving him your number by writing it on the napkin you would get), you simply blurted it out:

‘Do you want to grab some food together after your shift ends?’

You didn’t take it into consideration how flirty it might have sounded until the word actually fell from your lips and one of the customers gasped behind your back. That, completed with the shocked look on Seokmin’s face, gave you a reality check.

You cleared your throat and made a poor attempt at concealing your embarrassment with a forced chuckle.

‘I mean, to celebrate. The food is obviously on me, but I don’t expect anything in return. It’s just a friendly hangout, two university students bonding over their exams and such… Yeah, no biggie. Just some street food if you like street food…’ your ramble went on and on, losing its sense because come on! Which Korean didn’t like street food? You were so ridiculous.

‘I like street food,’ Seokmin cut you off with the most adorable, amused smile while he put your sandwich on a tray and started to work on your drink.

You pressed your lips together, cheeks heating up in embarrassment and gratitude. So he was down for it, that was good. That was awesome.

‘And I finish at six, which means…’ He looked at the clock on the wall, moving his lips a bit, indicating that he was counting under his nose. ‘In one hour and thirteen minutes. Is that okay with you?’

The best thing in post-midterms week was that most of your professors turned their classes into a huge discussion about your typical errors, therefore you didn’t have any or had very little homework. Thus, you had, for once, all the time in the world.

‘Sure. I’ll be sitting there, catching up on some Thai series,’ you informed him, and quickly paid for your order before you took the tray and walked up to your usual spot, in the corner of the customer area.

Your little celebration with Seokmin had been more than nice. You enjoyed talking with him a lot more than you had anticipated actually, because initially you had thought you wouldn’t have had many topics to talk about besides school and coffee.

How wrong you had been!

The guy was wonderful. He had matched your excited energy about the smallest wonders in life such as bumping into a random kpop concert in the street, sung his heart out with you when the trainee-looking teens covered songs you both liked, hadn’t made any comment when your eyes had craved the food more than your tummy and even eaten your leftovers like MVPs did instead of telling you to stop buying new stuff when you still had food in your hands. Your wallet might not have been particularly happy about this habit of yours, but your heart had fluttered throughout that night. Seokmin was amazing.

An amazing friend, and someone you could have pictured falling in love with with time.

And that was the main reason why you encouraged the slowly building bond between the two of you instead of taking a step back. You texted him at the most random times of the day about the most random things you saw, you listened to him when he needed an outsider’s opinion instead of someone’s from their enormous friend group and slowly became an active part of his everyday life.

That was why it didn’t surprise you when during the next open mic night at the coffee shop, he walked up to you before your performance to wish you good luck and took it upon himself to give you the first compliments as soon as you walked back to your table, enjoying the rest of the show.

‘The bridge came out very nicely, I wouldn’t have guessed you were still struggling with it on Monday if you hadn’t told me,’ he offered you his most brilliant smile, taking a seat by your table and sliding a slice of cinnamon cheesecake towards you right after.

You cut a biteful off it with your fork and lifted the first bite in front of his mouth. Smiling, he leaned in to take it, but instead of wrapping his lips around the sweets, he took your wrist in his hand and redirected the cutlery, so it would be facing you. After a snort, you dived in for the dessert with an amused eye roll and completely destroyed it.

‘Thanks,’ you mumbled with your mouth full of cake. ‘For both,’ you added as you wiped your lips clean with the back of your hand and stubbornly offered the second bite to the boy. As much as he liked to point out that he could eat and drink at his workplace for free, you also liked to emphasise the fact that it could only be free to you too if he had taken at least one bite or sip. It put your mind at ease.

Getting a shy smile instead of a response, you finished the slice in relative silence, because neither of you wanted to disrespect the artist on stage with a full on conversation, then you let Seokmin go as he had to finish his shift and help the others with packing up the equipment before he clocked out for real. Usually, his shift ended around six when he was taking the afternoon shift - sometimes sooner when he couldn’t work full-time due to his classes -, but one of his coworkers, Minghao, had gotten sick this morning, hence he had promised to stay an extra hour and help with the event. His reasoning? He would have checked your new song out anyway.

‘Wanna grab dinner with me tonight?’ You asked him when he jogged back to your table half an hour later in his street clothes, the light shade of pink on his cheeks deepening more because of his hard work than because of your question. After all, it had been two weeks since your first dinner together, so he had had plenty of time to get used to your more relaxed behaviour.

You were a whole other person when you weren’t constantly on edge because of your poor grades and the mental image of the disappointed look on your parents’ face didn’t haunt you. You were a friendly person. Not as extroverted as Seokmin and nowhere near as funny as his friend, Kwon Soonyoung, but nevertheless a pleasant company.

‘Sure. It’s on me tonight. I want you to try my favourite dumpling shop,’ he agreed easily, waiting for you to pack your stuff comfortably before he took your tote bag from you.

Your heart fluttered when the boy even held the door for you on your way out despite his noisy friends’ hollering.

If you had been a regular at Coffee Carat before, you basically moved into the building once your friendship with Seokmin turned into a crush. Not necessarily because the barista felt the same way about you, but because as soon as you had acknowledged your feelings, texting with him daily hadn’t been enough. You needed to see his face, the way his eyes lit up at the smallest wonders of the world - such as the little girl with the adorable pigtails who dared to pick a fight with Seokmin’s lawyer friend because of a joke he made about Joshua, or the first piece of perfectly baked chocolate brownie -, the way he smiled at every customer even when they were rude and entitled and of course, the way he looked at you when you chose a less extreme drink for your second coffee of the day than your go-to cold brew.

You had fallen too deep.

And yet, you made absolutely no attempt at getting out of the hole or pulling the guy down as well, at the bottom of the pit. Instead, you busied yourself with your notes as you always did and chose to concentrate on your upcoming finals. There were two more weeks before the first exam; however, this time you wanted to be more organised and prepared.

‘Hey there, how is it going?’ Seokmin’s question reached you before his steps came to a halt at your table; the ease he pulled the chair next to you out for himself doing funny things to your heart.

After a quick glance at the clock on your toolbar, you realised that it was already time for his lunch break, which meant you had been at the shop for almost four hours. You shouldn’t have taken as many breaks as you had allowed yourself that morning. You still had so much to go over according to your new study schedule, argh.

‘I think I overestimated myself,’ you confessed with an inaudible sigh, pushing your plate with your leftover cupcakes on it towards the barista despite the food container in his hands. You had bought more than you could eat with him in mind, as the blueberry cupcakes always sold out within an hour, and you knew he loved them a lot.

‘How so?’ He inquired while he reached out for a cupcake, shoving it into his mouth with a content hum before he even opened his home-packed lunch. In the back of your head you wondered whether he could cook or it was someone else who had made it for him, but you quickly pushed that thought aside. It didn’t matter. You knew for a fact that he was single, so whether it was one of his friends or someone who might have had a soft spot for him just like you did shouldn’t have concerned you at all.

You refused to let the possibility make you bitter when he deliberately spent his lunch break with you.

‘I put too many things on my to-do list for today. I barely finished one third of it and it’s past one already,’ you decided to focus on your conversation, pouting slightly as you took a sip from your cold lemonade. It was more sour than you preferred, but you had wanted to give it a try when you had seen the recommendation on the counter.

‘You still have weeks, though, right?’ He inquired, his worry only evident in his voice due to how familiar you had grown with his habits in the past few weeks. If it hadn’t been for that time when you had accidentally knocked the porcelain plate off your table and reached out for the broken pieces on instinct, you wouldn’t have been able to tell just how serious Seokmin’s question was.

He was anxious on your behalf, worried that you might not have had enough time to revise without pulling those awful all-nighters most university students did. That you might have had to break your promise and go back to your old habits to make more free time where there wasn’t any.

‘Two. I know I can make it, it’s just… I’m a little distracted today. I overestimated myself, that’s it,’ you were quick to reassure him, refusing to turn back to your laptop like you had done so the first couple of times the barista had invaded your personal space during your studying sessions. Back then, you had thought he was annoying, but nowadays labelling his persistence cute sounded more fitting.

He made your heart flutter.

‘Does that mean you might have the time to go on a week-long vacation with my friends and me after exam week? No retakes?’ He diverted the topic smoothly, making you let out a scoff somewhere between an actual scoff and a chuckle.

‘Hopefully. But aren’t all of your friends in a relationship? Why would you want us to be the twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth wheel in the group?’ You teased, even though you had never spent enough time with his friends and their significant others to know how they acted around other people. Were they into PDA? Were they comfortable with intimacy only in private? As far as you could tell, Soonyoung was the only one who couldn’t keep his hands to himself when his girlfriend was around, and Eunseo rarely left her own shop during open hours.

‘If you ask me, Joshua and his new girl might not even last until our finals week. Anyhow, everyone having a partner is exactly why I want you to come with us,’ he explained between two bites, finally opening the baby blue food container and diving into the homemade kimbap rolls. They looked appetising.

‘Oh? So I’d be your partner?’ You teased him further, genuinely enjoying the fact that you could get more information about how he felt about you without acting suspicious. It worked out perfectly for you, hence you would have been stupid to let an opportunity this amazing go just because you were lowkey afraid of him getting the wrong (correct) idea and head on rejecting you. ‘Shouldn’t you have asked me out on a date first?’

If you wanted to be honest, you were unsure where your overflowing confidence was coming from, but it wasn’t like you were a coward in the first place. It was just new that you showed any interest in someone, and based on how movies and dramas portrayed young love, you kind of expected to be more insecure about the truth. Still, here you were, raising your brow at Seokmin in challenge as though it wouldn’t have hurt if he had laughed in your face.

The choking sound that escaped the boy’s mouth pushed your heart into a slight palpitation, but he put himself together before you could have reached out to him and patted his back a couple of times to help him spit out the food that stuck in his throat.

‘I mean…’ he started once he gulped down a huge amount of water from a water bottle you hadn’t even noticed before, too distracted by his home packed lunch.

Seokmin’s beautiful eyes were red and shone with unshed tears as he looked at your face, the subtle smile on his lips almost bashful even without him lifting his hand to his nape to scratch it out of embarrassment.

‘I was planning to ask you out after your finals, so I wouldn’t distract you unintentionally, but for some reason Hoshi hyung is in charge of the reservations and he wants to know whether you come or not,’ he explained under one breath, pointing towards the edge of the counter that was closer to the staff only area.

Despite your unhealthily high heart rate, you turned your head towards the direction the boy was showing you and there he was… Kwon Soonyoung in all his glory, staring at the two of you with his phone in his hand like he was about to record your interaction in any minute. You furrowed your eyebrows when your eyes met and he wiggled his eyebrows. Weird.

‘He said he would ask you himself if I didn’t man up and I just… You might not believe it, but he would totally do something like that, and I didn’t want you to hear it from him that I have had this embarrassing crush on you since our first open mic night and…’

You were speechless; meanwhile, Seokmin kept rambling, repeating bits and bobs of his cute and most probably accidental confession here and there. He told you how touching he had found your first song, how he had doubted for a very long time that someone like you could still be single, and how the closer he had gotten to you, the more afraid he had been to lose your friendship.

You were speechless, and he wasn’t.

Unsure where it would have been appropriate to cut him off, you decided to take control over the situation quite literally and took Seokmin’s hand in yours. Then, the combination of the firmest gentle squeeze you could manage and your sweet, encouraging smile did the trick: the world quieted down around you with the barista’s mouth hanging open.

‘Would you like to grab some food with me after your shift? This time, as a date,’ you asked, enjoying the confidence that came with knowing exactly how Seokmin felt about you. The lack of fear of rejection was deliberating.

And so was the eager ‘Yes’ that followed your question not even a second later.

Giving another squeeze to the boy’s hand, you stole a glance at the deeply invested Soonyoung by the counter and made a mental note to thank him for his unintentional match-making before the two of you left the coffee shop that afternoon.

He deserved your gratitude, all the praises and maybe, a free brownie, too, for turning the likely impossible possible for you.

➼ next reason

#seventeen scenarios #caratwritersclub #seokmin x reader #seokmin x you #dk x you #dk x reader #lee seokmin #dk #ssbyme #seventeen series #coffee shop au

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ukrfeminism · 2 years

Text

1 minute read

A former barrister has won the right to sue an institute of higher eduction that allegedly ejected him from a course over his “gender critical beliefs”.

A judge has ruled that James Esses’s claim that he was treated unlawfully as a result of his beliefs should be tested at a full employment tribunal.

The trainee therapist has alleged that the UK Council for Psychotherapy ordered the Metanoia Institute in Ealing, west London, to have Esses thrown off his masters course.

It is alleged that the council issued that edict after Esses had raised concerns about the institute’s attitude to transgender issues, particularly relating to children.

At a preliminary hearing Esses set out the beliefs that he said should entitle him to legal protection. According to the judgement, these include “that sex is binary, immutable and biological, and gender is a question of identity based upon a variety of factors, including culture and socialisation”.

Esses went on to add to his definition “a collection of attributes or traits typically associated with a particular sex. Although someone may exhibit more masculine or feminine attributes or traits, it does not change their biological sex.”

The former criminal defence specialist said that “gender identity and sex are independent of one another and separate”.

Relating to the approach of psychotherapists to these issues, Esses argued that “gender reassignment is not de facto the appropriate treatment for all individuals experiencing gender dysphoria and that there may be such individuals who ought not to be treated in this manner immediately and/or merely by fact of their gender dysphoria”.

His view was that “psychotherapists should explore by way of open-ended discussion the context and possible causes of a person’s gender dysphoria, which may in some cases lead to the person desisting from a course of potentially irreversible and potentially damaging medical intervention such as puberty blockers, cross-sex hormones and sex reassignment surgery”.

The hearing in London was told that after Esses began his studies at the Metanoia Institute — which awards degrees and provides psychology, psychotherapy and counselling training — he applied for trainee membership of the UK Council for Psychotherapy in 2020.

And last year Esses sent an email to the council expressing his “concern with a lack of balance in the discussion and debate around treatment of gender dysphoria, particularly for children”. But the next month he received an email from the council’s registrar warning him that if he wished to apply for full membership he would have to abide by the body’s “ethical framework”.

Later an email was sent by the council to the chief executive of Metanoia, which stated “we are greatly concerned by this situation”.

Esses’s contract with the Metanoia Institute was then terminated and three weeks later he was informed that as he was no longer a student. His trainee membership of the council was also terminated.

Esses has now claimed that he was discriminated against, harassed and victimised because of his beliefs.

In his ruling, the employment judge Beyzade Beyzade said that Esses’s allegations should be tested at a full hearing, saying: “This is a fact sensitive exercise that the tribunal at a final hearing will be best placed to carry out.”

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autumn816 · 6 months

Note

Gewis crime au

I didn’t know if you wanted detective gewis or one detective and one criminal gewis crime au. But since I am into gewis as morally grey/bad people these days, I went for neither of them. Instead I went for hardcore Gewis as criminals. Sorry if this wasn’t what you wanted.

- Lewis was 13 when he first killed someone but it was self defence. Niki found him sitting numbly beside the body. He has been with Mercedes since.

- Besides Toto and Susie, Lewis is the leader. He knows of everything that’s carried out.

- George was adopted by Susie and Toto when he was four years old. He doesn’t know that.

- That's the first and the last time Lewis sees George before they meet again when George comes back. Lewis was in a different part of the world, handling some other operation, a very big one that took him 14 years. By the time he comes back, George has already left.

- George left home when he was 18 and came back home when he is 22. Toto sent him away for studies and to also protect him from his enemies. Toto and Susie along with all the Mercedes gang had done pretty well to hide George and Jack from their enemies. But one of their enemy groups almost closed up to George.

- George and Jack go out for a brothers’ bonding day. Susie gets her best men to tail behind them just in case. She was right to. The same enemy had found out about George and Jack sometime during those four years and had waited for the right moment to strike. Gunfire issues. Lewis and co protect George and Jack and get them out of there.

- George gets angry. He never knew the real truth behind his family and who they are so he demands answers. He goes marching into Toto’s office and yells at him to tell him the truth. Toto doesn’t tell him the whole truth but he does tell him that they are the mafia.

- George gets Lewis to train him. The helplessness he felt when Jack was crying and reaching out for him is his motivation. He never wants to be in a position again where he can’t protect his own brother. Lewis agrees.

- Loads of sexual tension during those training scenes. George teases Lewis a lot. Lewis takes more cold showers in those months than he has in his entire life.

- George’s first kill is the man that was trying to pull Jack away from him. He takes his sweet sweet time torturing the man before killing him.

- That’s the thing that makes Lewis gives in. Watching George kill someone only turns Lewis on. They sleep together that night.

- George and Lewis make their kill mission part of their first date. The person with a higher kill count pays for the dinner they are going for after they finish with this mess. Lewis picks up the bill.

#sorry for late ask. i had to get back to work #ask games #gewis #anon ask

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jordanianroyals · 1 year

Photo

Official photo releasted on the occassion of Prince Hashim bin Al Hussein’s 42nd birthday, who was born on June 10, 1981 (8th of Shaban, 1401 Hijri) to the late King Hussein bin Talal and Queen Noor.

He is a 41st generation direct descendant of the Prophet Mohammad and the youngest brother of King Abdullah II. Prince Hashim completed his primary education in Amman and later graduated from high school in the United States in 1999.

In 1999, he attended the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst in the United Kingdom, from which he graduated in 2000, commissioning as a second lieutenant in the Jordan Armed Forces-Arab Army. He received several awards, including an award for the best aggregate mark in his academic studies for non-British officers.

Prince Hashim graduated with distinction from Georgetown University’s Edmund A. Walsh School of Foreign Service on August 12, 2005, and subsequently completed his higher education in Quran studies at Balqa Applied University in Jordan, graduating on September 5, 2006. On December 1, 2014, he also earned a master’s degree in Defence Studies from King’s College London in the United Kingdom.

During Prince Hashim’s career in the military, he rose through the ranks of the Special Operations Command, serving in all three of its branches Special Forces, Counterterrorism, and the Rangers. In 2015, he was assigned command of the 61st Royal Rangers Battalion (Al Maghaweer) which is specialised in urban, desert, and advanced mountain operations. Prince Hashim’s last active military role was as adviser to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff for Special Forces and Rapid Reaction Forces.

During his military career, Prince Hashim completed his Platoon Commanders’ Battle Course in the US at Fort Benning in 2007, where he achieved the best marks among international officers taking part in the training. In 2009, Prince Hashim participated in and successfully completed the Infantry Company Commanders Course in the UAE during which he achieved the highest level of academic excellence, and in 2014 he attended the Advanced Command and Staff College in England (ACSC17) and successfully completed it, earning his Post Staff College (Joint) PSCJ.

On January 12, 2017, a Royal Decree was issued appointing Prince Hashim as His Majesty’s Chief Royal Councillor, and he continued his service until his resignation in September 2020.

Prince Hashim has been sworn in as Regent on several occasions and accompanied King Abdullah II on several official functions.

Prince Hashim is the head of Alfaris International Horseback Archery Championship and is a proficient blade-smith. He also enjoys hiking.

His Royal Highness is fluent in Arabic and English. He studied Hebrew in university and he is a student of the Turkish language.

On January 6, 2006, Prince Hashim married Princess Fahdah and they have five children: Their Royal Highnesses Prince Al Hussein born in June 2015, Prince Al Hassan born in October 2019, Princess Haalah born in April 2007, Princess Raiyah born in July 2008 and Princess Aliyah born in November 2011.

#prince hashim #official portrait

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mariacallous · 1 year

Text

More and more women are joining Ukraine’s fight against the Russian invasion, but while they can now take on the same roles as men, the challenges they face are very different.

Since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, more than 11,000 women have voluntarily joined the ranks of Ukraine’s armed forces.

“From the first day of the war, women along with men stood in queues at territorial recruitment centres to join the defence of our Motherland,” Lieutenant General Serhii Naev, commander of the United Forces of the Armed Forces of Ukraine, said on June 22 this year.

Some of them have taken on the most dangerous assignments, becoming machine gunners, snipers and tank gunners, firing grenade launchers and mortars.

As of early 2023, at least 600 women had expressed their desire to join eight new assault brigades – the Offensive Guard – tasked with pushing Russian troops out of occupied parts of Ukraine.

‘No right to make a mistake’

Armed conflict in eastern Ukraine broke out in early 2014 following Russia’s annexation of Crimea.

Back then, a total of 49,926 women were employed within the Ukrainian armed forces, of which 16,557 were military personnel and 33,369 civilian. By March 1 this year, a year into the full-scale invasion, the total had climbed to 60,538, including 42,898 military personnel. That’s a 2.5-fold increase in military personnel since 2014. The number of female officers is now six times higher, at 7,416.

As of publication of this article, 106 female soldiers have died in combat since February 24, 2022.

More women will be need for the war effort, but they will continue to face different challenges to their male colleagues.

Ukrainian society and military servicemen have been slow to accept women fighters.

“As a woman, you have no right to make a mistake; you always have to prove yourself more than men. The attitude towards you, as a woman, is ‘It’s just a girl’,” said Sharlotta Khmelnytska.

Aged 26, Khmelnytska holds a BA in political science and a Master’s degree in public administration. She is also a senior lieutenant in the army, an example of the changing nature of military service in Ukraine and the transition of women into combat roles traditionally reserved for men.

Major reform of 2018

Women have served in the armed forces of Ukraine since independence in 1991, but usually as the wives and daughters who followed their husbands and fathers to new military posts.

Ukraine kept with the Soviet tradition of military rotation in which the family members of officers would rotate with them; wives and daughters would typically work in the military compound where their husbands or fathers were stationed, as administrative staff, secretaries or other civilian personnel.

Over time, the number of female military personnel steadily increased, particularly within the officer corps: between 2001 and 2006, the proportion of female officers rose from 0.7 per cent to 2.25 per cent. The hostility displayed by some toward female officers was largely due to the fact that military men did not want to hold lower-paid positions.

In 1994, women could apply for a limited range of positions. Social stigma forced women to occupy more typical ‘female’ posts such as medics, administrators or logistical support.

There was also a shortage of women trained to perform highly-skilled jobs. In the Soviet era, most of those studying IT, technology, or science were men, while women traditionally enrolled in more ‘feminine’ fields such as pedagogy, light industry, medicine, and cooking.

Consequently, the majority of women in the army typically occupied low paid, ‘feminine’ roles.

By June 2016, 62 combat positions were open to women, and on September 6, 2018, military laws were amended to bring radical change to the rights of women in military service.

Law 2523 introduced six amendments to the Statute of the Internal Service of the Armed Forces of Ukraine and the Law of Ukraine titled ‘On Military Duty and Military Service’.

Women became eligible for all military positions and ranks, with the same duties and opportunities as their male colleagues: the age limit on women serving in the military was raised from 40 to 60; servicewomen who reach the age limit are now transferred to the 1st category reserve, as opposed to the 2nd, meaning an increase in their pension pot and the chance to be mobilised first if needed.

As Ukrainian society pushed for greater gender equality, more women than ever began to join the army. In 2018, 53 per cent of Ukrainians supported the idea of gender equality between women and men in the army; in 2023, that number stands at 80 per cent.

The sharp rise in the number of women joining the armed forces reflects the army’s increased recognition of women, and the need felt by women to contribute to the war effort.

“Once I realised that a full-scale invasion by the Russian Federation into the territory of Ukraine was inevitable and that the enemy would try to occupy my hometown, Berdiansk, I could not sit by,” said Khmelnytska. “I had to join the Armed Forces of Ukraine – so I did.”

Currently, 24,797 servicewomen perform different tasks in the army, from combat engagements and special operations, to admin and logistical support.

More than 16,000 serve in the Ground Forces, at least 7,000 in the Air Force, over 3,000 in the Territorial Defence Forces, around 2,000 in the navy, and approximately 1,000 in the Airborne Assault Forces. The rest serve across other departments of the armed forces.

Women as prisoners of war

Women who join the military effort in Ukraine are in double jeopardy: they risk death or imprisonment by Russian forces, and sexual harassment within their own forces.

While there is no publicly available data on the total number of female prisoners of war, the Coordination Headquarters for the Treatment of Prisoners of War believes that several hundred women may have been taken prisoner.

Since February 24, 2022, there have been several prisoner exchanges involving women. One of the biggest occurred on October 17 that year, when 108 women were exchanged.

Maryana Mamonova, a female Ukrainian military doctor who was pregnant at time of her detention, was held captive by the Russian army for six months. According to Mamonova, Russian soldiers told her that she would give a birth to “a Nazi/Banderite” and that the child would be better off raised by a Russian family.

Fortunately, the media coverage of her case led to her release in the ninth month of her pregnancy.

When asked to describe their imprisonment, female servicewomen report systematic violations of the Geneva Convention on the treatment of prisoners of war by Russia – including torture, psychological abuse, the refusal to provide medical care, and a lack of food and water.

Many say that in Russian prisons they are not only denied hygiene products but often denied any opportunity to wash themselves at all. Detained Ukrainian women report being tortured during interrogations, shaved, and forced to undress. Some were sexually abused by Russian soldiers.

Ukrainian military women are also sometimes at risk from their male colleagues. The results of a 2011 study by the Research Centre for Humanitarian Issues of the Armed Forces of Ukraine revealed that every tenth woman faced sexual harassment in the army. “A woman has a harder time in the army than a man,” said Khmelnytska.

“When we did military training we faced sexism. Dealing with it was draining on my nerves, my energy, and my emotions. At times it was terrible. For example, you could be punished or reprimanded because you were a woman and the brigade commander didn’t like it.”

Sexual harassment in the army remains a taboo topic in the Ukrainian army.

In 2021, Olga Derkach became one of the first to speak out publicly about sexual harassment in the military when she accused Colonel Oleksandr Krivoruchko of harassment that she said began in 2016.

According to Olena Shevchenko, head of the Ukrainian human rights NGO ‘Insight’, complaints of sexual harassment are often submitted to Insight by the friends and acquaintances of the victims, rather than the victims themselves. Insight has received more than a dozen in recent years.

“According to women who complained to us, the commander harasses the woman, demands sexual favours and her loyalty,” said Shevchenko.

The head of the NGO ‘Association of Women Lawyers of Ukraine’ also reported receiving similar complaints. “Complaints are not coming from the frontline,” said Khrystyna Kit. “Women combatants are less likely to be sexually harassed than admin staff who work away from the battlefield.”

But even when women are willing to testify about harassment, it is often difficult to bring such cases to court. “Women have no witnesses to the harassment and, apart from her own testimony, there is no one who could confirm her claims,” said Kit. “Holding the perpetrator criminally accountable is a difficult and traumatic endeavour for a female victim.”

Social stigma

Ukrainian women serving in the army still fight to be recognised by society as equal to male soldiers.

The traditional view of the army as an exclusively masculine environment prevails, and women – so the argument goes – have no place in this environment.

Debate has raged on social media in response to comments on women who have decided to join the army, especially those who have children. As more and more women volunteer for the frontline, the more heated the debates become.

Some express full support for women and mothers; others argue they should think first about their children, who could become orphans at any moment. Such debates do not happen when it comes to men.

Despite their increasing involvement in the armed forces, society still believes that women have no place in the army. As a consequence, women’s experience of war remains neglected by the media. We have seen changes in public perception, but not as rapidly as one would expect in response to the rapid changes caused by war.

From the start of full-scale hostilities to the end of 2022, 350 military servicewomen have been awarded for bravery. The highest award, Hero of Ukraine, was bestowed posthumously on two women. Recently, Forbes-Ukraine magazine added ten women from the ranks of the Armed Forces of Ukraine to its list of the 50 most influential women in Ukraine.

In preparation for future waves of military mobilisation, women of certain professions are now legally obliged to register for the military. While full scale mobilisation is not expected before 2026, women can serve under contract. The list of professions from which women can be called up for military service has also expanded. According to the new law, women with any type of science or medical background must register.

Once registered, women will be subject to general mobilisation to the same degree as men.

At present, only women with medical backgrounds are legally obliged to be drafted into the war effort and this is due to the constant shortage of military medics. With the potential for a prolonged conflict, the change will be necessary to maintain strength and numbers on the battlefield, meaning that women could fall subject to general mobilisation.

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