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mjolnir-steve · 3 years ago

Text

To My Heart, He Carries the Key(s)

Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Word count: 2135 (oop)

Warnings: light drinking (no bad decisions), toothache-inducing fluff, implied smut for .02 seconds

Prompt: Steve / Giving him a lift back to his office after he forgets his keys after a post-mission bar hop - from @syntheticavenger

A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @syntheticavenger’s How It Started - How It’s Going 5K Challenge! This is my first time sharing a fic in seven years, so I’m a little nervous. If I missed any warnings, please let me know! I tried to make the reader as neutral as possible in characteristics, but I do identify as female, so I wanted to be safe and classify this as a female reader. (I also made no mention of height except that Steve is taller than Reader hehe, so I hope taller folks can picture themselves, too.) This was not beta’d because I’m entering at the last minute (typical), so if there’s anything incorrect or that doesn’t make sense, please reach out. :) I hope you enjoy!!!!!

How it started…

Shit.

Your coworker at the local pub called out sick. He was supposed to relieve you at 7:30, leaving you time to freshen up before your date picked you up at 8 PM. It was now 7:55 PM. Your manager wasn’t answering your calls, a sure sign that you should text your date and apologize profusely for canceling at the last minute.

Y/N: Hey, Johnny. So sorry, but I can’t make it tonight. :( My coworker is out sick and no one else can cover. Can we reschedule? 🔥: I was about to text and say I’m running late. All good.

Y/N: Are you busy tomorrow?

When Johnny hadn’t answered you by 9 PM, you weren’t sure how to feel. Your phone lit up with a notification: humantorch81 has added to their story. The little voice in your head told you not to click it, but click it you did. A selfie-style video played, and you watched Johnny take one shot, then a second, then a third… The fourth clip showed him stuffing $100 bills in someone’s cleavage. Douchebag.

Thunderous laughter and applause in the doorway had you closing the app and putting your phone in your back pocket. A group of men came into view. Maybe working tonight wouldn’t be so bad. You recognized one of the men as James (he told you to call him Bucky) Barnes, the former Winter Soldier. He was a regular at the pub, located only a ten-minute drive from the Avengers Compound. Bucky, Sam Wilson, and sometimes Thor frequented the pub, regaling you with tales of both past battles and present gossip. Lucky for you, they also tipped well. You could make out a few more familiar faces, including Tony Stark’s. Okay, they were probably tipping very well tonight.

The door opened once again and you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. In walked Captain America, your childhood crush. Your admiration for him never really subsided. If anything, it was renewed when he was recovered from the ice during your junior year of high school. When you were small, you often would talk about how you were in love with Captain Rogers, making him the subject of your art projects and writing assignments. As you grew up, you saw how silly you’d been and merely appreciated how beautiful and gentlemanly he seemed. Your sanity was well and truly tested, though, the first time you met him, and it turned out he was even more wonderful than you dreamed he’d be. You barely could stand to speak to him, let alone look at him, out of shyness.

Tonight was no different. Seeing Steve standing in front of you with flushed cheeks and tousled hair, you thought your heart might burst or you might start drooling - you weren’t sure which would happen first. Mr. Tall, Blond, and Handsome started making his way towards you, eyes downcast as if he were nervous. Was he nervous? Why would he be nervous to order a drink? From you, of all people?

He finally looked up at you, only to stumble over his own two feet. The blush that had just disappeared returned quickly, tinging his freckled nose and perfect cheeks with the most flattering shade of pink that complemented his sparkling blue eyes. The first time you’d met, he had a full beard. He was clean-shaven now, and although you loved the facial hair on him, his boyish face made him look like a Disney prince. It took everything in you not to swoon.

“Hey, Y/N. Long time, no see.” He let out a short, bashful laugh that made the butterflies in your tummy flutter. He scratched the back of his neck, not quite able to meet your gaze.

“Hi, Captain Rogers!” You judged yourself for sounding so eager to see him. “It’s good to see you. Been a while,” you smiled at him, reaching for a fresh gravity pint glass. “What can I get you? Your usual?” Steve typically started his visits with a pint of Guinness, and then depending on the occasion, he’d order either more of the same or some whiskey.

He began to pull his credit card out of his wallet. “You’re too good to me, doll. And please, can you call me Steve?” He passed his card to you and you put it next to the register. “This may be a long shot, but do you know how to make a Singapore Sling? We’re celebrating after completing a two-month mission tonight, and I’m craving something sweet.” Either you were crazy or Captain Rog- Steve, you corrected yourself - was looking at your lips when he said that.

“Well, Steve,” you said pointedly, “I actually do know how to make one. That’s one of my favorites.”

“No kidding! I hardly order them, but when I do, no one’s even heard of them. I guess my age is showing.” He sat down then, watching you grab the pineapple juice from the refrigerator.

“You don’t look a day over 103, Cap,” you giggled, winking at him. Since when do I giggle?, you thought. Who do I think I am? You managed not to smack your own forehead, though you were sure you’d berate yourself later. “But yeah, my grandmother introduced me to them a few years ago. They were her favorite, and they quickly became mine.” You passed the glass to him, peeking at him from under your lashes as you awaited his reaction.

Steve picked up the glass and raised it to you first before taking a sip. It wasn’t lost on you that his lips apparently were that pink before the bright red liquid ever touched them. “Gosh, this is perfect,” he nearly moaned. For what felt like the millionth time in ten minutes, you felt your face heat up once again. “Thank you so much, Y/N. It’s just like I remember.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I’m glad you like it.” He smiled at you softly, looking like he wanted to say something more. “Go celebrate, Steve. Let me know if you’d like anything else, okay?” You squeezed his hand where it rested on top of the bar. The action felt so natural for some reason, but before he could react, you pulled away, busying yourself with drying glasses.

A few hours and more than a few shots of Asgardian mead later, Steve found himself at the bar with you. He told the others he’d stay behind while you closed up so you wouldn’t be alone. You exchanged stories about your friends and families. You learned that his favorite meal was shepherd’s pie, and that his mom would make it for his birthday every year, even though the tiny apartment would be sweltering hot with the oven on in July. Funnily enough, that was your favorite meal too, both to cook and to eat. You told him you’d love to make it for him sometime, and he said he’d like that very much.

After closing out the register, you turned around to find Steve resting his chin in both of his hands, staring at you with what you only could classify as puppy dog eyes. You’d never noticed how long and dark his lashes were before. You exited from behind the bar, his eyes following you until you stopped beside him. “Ready to go, Cap?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” He grabbed your hand and stood up, wobbling a bit. “I’ll drive you home.”

“Oh, nooo, you won’t. You’re in no condition to drive.” He still held onto your hand and started to lead you to the door. “Besides, I only live ten minutes away from the Compound. It’s practically on my way home. I’d be happy to drive you back.” He hummed in agreement and squeezed your hand, a muted show of thanks as he clearly was growing more tired by the minute.

You walked outside and he continued to hold your hand as you locked up, carrying your purse on his opposite shoulder. Even though you were driving, he insisted on opening your car door for you.

The drive was quiet, but pleasantly so. You found yourself relaxed in his presence, something you never would have believed a few hours ago. As nervous as you felt around him, you couldn’t help but think he felt nervous around you, too, and as you got to know each other tonight, those nerves began to dissipate, allowing you to start falling for Steve, for real this time.

“Y/N?” You glanced over at Steve who you thought had been asleep. In fact, he’d been watching you, memorizing your profile and trying to gather the courage to say what was on his mind.

“Steve?”

“You’re so pretty,” he cooed, reaching to brush your cheek with his thumb. “I mean, you’re more than that. You’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re- dammit.”

You put the car in park since Steve decided to begin his confession just as you were pulling up to his apartment building. He clearly was having a difficult time, undoubtedly worsened by the otherworldly alcohol in his system. You turned to look at him, reaching for his hand, encouraging him to continue.

He took a deep breath, covering your hand with both of his. “What I’m trying to say is, I think you’re lovely and I’ve liked you for quite some time. Would you maybe wanna go out to dinner sometime?” The way his eyes twinkled as they searched your face told you he’d lasso the moon and pull it down for you if you asked him to.

You leaned forward, cupping his cheek with your other hand, to kiss his forehead. “I’d love that, Steve.” The smile on his face could have melted the very ice that once entrapped him. He gave you a soft kiss on the cheek, and you stayed like that for a moment, enjoying the feel of each other so close.

You exchanged numbers, Steve asking you to text him when you arrived home and you promising you would do just that. He reached into his pocket, but to his surprise, his keys were nowhere to be found. He leaned forward, lightly smacking his head on the dashboard. “I hate to ruin this moment, sweetheart, but I must have left my keys in the office building on the other side of campus. I’ll just walk over, okay? Text me when you’re home?” He moved to open his door.

“Steve, don’t be ridiculous,” you chided with a laugh. “It’ll take 30 seconds to drive you over there.” You grabbed his hand, urging him to stay seated.

The drive was quick, and Steve ran in and out of the office even quicker, keys to his apartment in hand. You drove him back to the apartment building again. “I don’t think I forgot anything else now,” he laughed more to himself than to you. “Thank you so much for everything. Good night, Y/N.” He exited the car and before you lost your nerve, so did you.

“Wait!” You followed after him, and he stopped in his tracks. “I forgot something this time.” You stood on your tiptoes and reached for his face, planting your lips on his. Steve’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but he instantly relaxed into you, putting one hand on the side of your neck and the other on your waist.

How it’s going...

You heard your phone ringing in the kitchen, having left it out there to time when the shepherd’s pie would be done baking. You answered immediately after reading the caller ID. “Hey, honey. Everything okay?”

“Hi, sweetheart. Everything’s all right. I can’t wait to see you. Listen, are you home already?”

“Yeah, I took off today, actually. I made you dinner. Are you calling because you forgot your keys?”

“Yes, actually,” he sighed with relief. “I’m glad to know I didn’t lose them. Tony would have been annoyed with me… again.”

Whenever you saw an opportunity to tease Steve, you took it. “It seems you’re becoming forgetful in your advanced age, Old Man Rogers.”

He hummed, the tone of his voice a shade lower than a moment ago. “That’s real funny, sweetheart. I don’t think you were calling me old last night or even this morning, as a matter of fact. I had no trouble keeping up with you then.”

“Steven Grant! Why, I never,” you replied with your best Southern belle impression. Your face suddenly felt warm to the touch, and it wasn’t because the oven was on.

He barked out a laugh. “Maybe I’ll have to remind you how old I’m not when I get home. I’ll see you in an hour, Mrs. Rogers.”

Any reminder that you were married to this man made your heart sing. “I love you, Steve.”

“I love you more.”

#synths5kfollowerchallenge #howitstartedhowitsgoingchallenge #synth's challenge #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers fluff #maggie's writing

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h2bakugou · 3 years ago

Note

Yes yes yes yesyesyesyesyes ok!! So then can I request present mic? Doing anything??? No I’m kidding I do actually have a prompt. I was thinking abt mic’s radio show and specifically, if he had an s/o who wrote music. Bc u know he would help them produce it and then play it nonstop on air aaaaaa

a/n: yes!! present mic love!! i love him so much i swear! <3 he has my heart dkdkmn this is such a cute request please- i apologize for the late posting!!

summary: you're an ambitious, gleeful, songbird at heart, and though you're quirkless, you've captivated the heart of the music-loving, radio show hosting, loud, sweetheart, present mic!

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff

word count: 1.3k

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

You started as an intern. A beaming smile on your lips most days, always happy to be in the studio with Mic when he was teaching you the ins and outs of radio hosting.

You'd majored in music business, the end goal in mind of writing and releasing your own music, though most of your plans had fallen through, the only opportunity to get you back on your feet after college being this deal you couldn't pass up.

Co-hosting with Present Mic on his own radio show.

The offer had actually been given to you by one of your superiors at the studio you worked at, having seen your optimism when it came to writing music and your love of music in general.

They wished you good luck and would always welcome you back if things didn't go so well. But you kept your head up high and marched into that studio ready to take on the world alongside the loud blonde.

And down the line, three years later, you were surprised to say the least.

"Your coffee as usual." Hizashi sets down the patriotic blue U.A. thermos sent out to the teachers at the beginning of the year. Since you'd practically moved in 'unofficially' with Mic, unofficially because you weren't technically allowed to stay due to the fact you didn't work for the school, rather employed by Mic himself in his private studio, but you were the tiny exception since you did technically work in the school.

"Thanks! Hey, I was wondering if you could check this new thing I've been working on and give me some criticism, it's just a rough draft, the lyrics just kind of came to me after a shot or two at Vlad's birthday party the other night." You giggled as you tossed him the flash drive containing your latest project, the sensitive information contained on the tiny disc landing in the palm of your boyfriend's hands.

"Another song? You're blessing my ears so early in the morning. I'm dreaming! Pinch me!" He teases. Mic's been the biggest supporter of your music since he overheard the pipes you had.

You'd had that kind of night the second week of your internship, battling the oncoming hangover after drinking with your cool new pro-hero teacher friends, your thoughts turning to lyrics as you worked in the studio, the only light being the small lamp on the side Mic kept when he worked late too.

He'd forgotten his room keys in the studio again, something you realized he did often and as he stopped by to pick them back up, that's when he heard you. You sounded so angelic, almost as if you were some sort of angel.

At first, he thought maybe it was just a recording or some sort of dare he say, Melodyne filter while you were messing around in the mic at night.

But you weren't. Your authentic voice shell-shocked him, and he sort of listened to you the entire night until you nearly pissed your pants turning around and seeing him.

“Yeah, it’s nothing special really-” You’re back to reality as Mic quickly has his headphones over his ears, a large grin on his lips as he listens, his fingers tapping away to the beat already.

You work on other tasks, filtering through requests and putting them in the queue while Mic listens to your song, his heart pounding. You were so talented and he’d wish you’d give yourself a bit more credit. You have what it takes to make it big, and he’d support you every step of the way.

“You know with this and the other tracks you have, you’d have enough to push out an EP. All you need is a bit of marketing and producing, and I’d be more than willing to help!” Mic smiles, wheeling over to you, pressing an encouraging peck to your cheek.

“It sounds great, but who would wanna listen to what I write?” You giggle, toggling an advertisement as you glance over at the blonde.

“How about this, You let me help you, I’ll spread the trial around here at work and if it gets good reviews, we publish.” Hizashi is nothing short of persuasive, and for the rest of the week he has you in his studio, adding layer after layer, fine-tuning and weeding out bits of the collection of songs you’d written until you have an EP.

Long nights fueled by coffee, water, and tea, and takeout eventually land you with the very first copy of your own EP.

In your hands, it’s palpable. It’s real. It doesn’t have any cover art, or a title, let alone who sang it, but Mic hands you a sharpie and you feel this fire coursing through your veins.

You feel more than accomplished.

You scribble some title down that you’d work on later and messily sign your name for Mic to make copies and then throughout the next week, you’ve got dozens of messages flooding your inbox telling you to drop it on some streaming platforms.

And the following night Mic is consoling your tears as you hit your first 100 streams.

“I’m so proud of you.” He coos, kissing your cheeks, wiping your tears away with his kisses, patting you on the head.

“You’re so cheesy.” You tease him.

“Says you! You named an entire song after me.” Mic huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What if ‘my beloved’ was about Marty?” You giggle. Marty, the sparkly, beautiful, elegant, beta-fish you’d adopted as the studio mascot swam around in his tank, decked out with super cool aquatic music themed stuff.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Mic laughs, his long blonde hair sweeping over his shoulders.

“Your hair always looks so nice down.” You snuggle into him, your fingers twisting around the ends. Hizashi shakes his head and stares down at you.

“And you’re as radiant as ever, my love.” Hizashi pulls you into him, snuggling his head into your neck, placing a gentle kiss to your skin as he holds you near to him.

“Do you sing, ‘Zashi?” You ask quietly.

“No comment.” Mic giggles, his laughs tickling your skin.

“Would you work on a song with me?” You ask sweetly.

“I would love to.”

Callers chime in every so often for requests, since Mic loves to annoy the listeners by playing your EP track by track almost daily. You have to knock some sense into him telling him that there’s a quota to fill and while you love how he supports you, you’ve got them stuck in your head too.

And when you play them every so often, your heart warms when someone requests one of yours to play. Even more so, when your songs rise to much more notable fame, you’re working on your own album, with the lovely producing of Mic, and it even features a lovely duet between the two of you.

In fact, something you’d found out with having so many connections to pros, was the amount of hidden talent.

You’d requested a song with Kyoka Jiro, the beautiful voice you’d heard at the school festival had belonged to her and you’d been wanting to work with her since she also shared a love for music, and though she was young, she seemed rather happy to sing, even if she might’ve been shy about it first.

An unlikely duo might’ve come from a dare, Hawks. While he was rather against the idea at first, his voice was smooth and mellow, and it clashed with yours perfectly for some sort of sappy anti-romantic love song. Whatever the case, it made charts.

But Mic continued to be your biggest supporter, no matter how or if you got big. You’d always find your way back into his arms, messing around with him on the radio show, and dodging paparazzi whenever you two left campus.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

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bts-reveries · 4 years ago

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young one | 6

+text below images + image after text <3

~All the boys arriving at the Jeon’s Residence at once~

“HI UNCLES!” Sian yells as he opens the door to all the boys. And Moonji.

“Hey bud,” Jimin says, ruffling the little one’s hair.

“Oppa!” Moonji yells out, kicking her legs for her dad to put her down, wanting to go straight to Sian.

“Moonji-ah!” Sian says, closing his little arms around little Moonji as she hugs him tightly.

“Let’s go play!” She yells, Sian nods, pulling her towards his room so they can go play with his toys, rushing past Jungkook.

“Woah! Hey!” Jungkook yells out, almost tripping over the little ones.

“There’s Mr. House husband,” Hoseok says, smiling at Jungkook. Jungkook looked exhausted, hair a mess, and a little apron around his waist.

“Sup Guys,” Jungkook says, hugging the boys as they walked up to him with open arms.

“Why do you look so exhausted?” Yoongi says, patting his back. From a distance, Sian’s cackle was so loud that each one of the boys turned their head towards his bedroom.

“That little devil,” Jungkook replies. “For some reason, he’s being so annoying today. He doesn’t want to do homework, he doesn’t want to clean his room, he only wants to eat ice cream,” Jungkook sighs. “I’ve been cleaning all day, because he keeps making messes and he refuses to help clean.”

“Why did something happen at school?” Jin says, going over to sit on the couch.

“I don’t know…” Jungkook says, flopping down next to him.

“You should talk to him, maybe something happened,” Namjoon says.

“I will,” Jungkook says. Taehyung stares down at him as he stays sitting there.

“Oh. Like right now?”

“Moonji-ah,” Jungkook calls, walking into Sian’s room, which was a mess.

A sigh escapes Jungkook’s lips.

“Uncle Kookie!” Moonji says, running up to Jungkook and giving his leg a big hug.

“How are you, princess?” Jungkook asks, patting her head. Moonji brings up her little thumb, showing that she was good. “That’s good to hear… or see.. Um, can you go with daddy right now? Or uncles? Uncle Kookie is going to talk to Sian Oppa right now, okay?” Moonji nods, running off to her dad. Jungkook watches her leave and turns to Sian who was on his bed pouting.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks.

“Me and Moonji were about to play!” He whines, crossing his arms against his chest.

“She’ll be back, I just wanted to talk to you real quick,” Jungkook says, calmly talking to his son as he walks towards him and kneels down to be in his eye level.

“What’s wrong? Like really.”

“I don’t want to go to school tomorrow,” Sian pouts, kicking his legs over his bed.

“Why not?”

“I just don’t want to,” Sian says, his voice breaking. Jungkook leans in to embrace him.

“What happened at school?” Jungkook asks as Sian silently cries on his shoulder. “What happened at school that you were acting up today?”

“Yeonwoo was being mean to me today,” Sian confesses. “I don’t like him anymore..”

“What did he do?”

“He ruined my drawing during art time and took my snacks,” Sian pouts.

“What?!” Jungkook exclaims, pulling away from him. “He did WHAT?”

Jungkook walks back to the living room, holding Sian’s hand.

“What happened?” Yoongi asks.

“His new friend is a bully, that’s what happened. I’m going with him to his class to beat his--”

“You’re going to beat a five year old?” Yoongi asks, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s six,” Sian says. Jungkook points down at him.

“See he’s six.”

“Uncle can Moonji and I play again?” Sian asks.

“Yeah, of course buddy,” Namjoon says.

“What happened anyways Siannie?” Hoseok asks.

“Yeonwoo ruined all my drawings in art time,” Sian pouts, letting go of Jungkook’s hand to cross his arms over his chest. Taehyung gasps loudly.

“hE DID NOT.” Taehyung yells, Sian angrily nods.

“AND HE TOOK MY SNACKS!” Sian yells out in anger.

“NO.” Jin yells back.

“YES!” Jungkook and Sian yell.

“Did you tell your teacher about it?” Jimin asks. Sian shakes his head no.

“Yeonwoo said he won’t be my friend if I told.”

“Don’t be his friend anyways, he’s a bully,” Yoongi tells him.

“Speak yourself,” Namjoon says.

“But I won’t have friends,” Sian says sadly.

“I’m your friend!” Moonji says.

“Moonji you don’t go to school.” Sian remarks.

“Pass me the salt,” Yoongi says. Jin reaches for the salt in the cabinet, handing it to Yoongi.

“Ugh, you guys are the best,” Jungkook says, leaning over the pot to smell the stew Yoongi and Jin were making.

“After dinner, I have to give Sian a bath then put him to sleep,” Jungkook says, walking over to Hoseok and Namjoon on the couch. Jimin and Taehyung were in Sian’s room helping him clean up.

“Oh, I can help you with that. Moonji needs a bath too before I put her to bed.”

“Oh yeah, okay, we can give them a bath together then,” Jungkook says.

“Thanks again guys,” he says, plopping down on the couch and resting his head on Hoseok’s lap. “I was so exhausted and you all came to save me,” he says, closing his eyes.

“Woah--”

Jungkook’s eyes opened right when he heard your voice. All the dad’s turn to the door as you stand there as confused as they were.

“Is that mommy?” Sian yells from the other room. Jungkook sits up and turns to you.

“You’re home early. Dinner is not done,” he says.

“Are you not glad I came home early?” You laugh, taking off your jacket and closing the door.

“Nono I am!” Jungkook says, rushing to get up to greet you with a hug and kiss.

“Aigoo~” Hoseok says, watching you two.

“Sorry for crashing Yn,” Jin says. “We heard Jungkook’s silent cry for help and we came to save him.”

“Long story,” Jungkook tells you. You nod.

“Yeah, no, it’s okay! I missed you guys!” you say, pushing past Jungkook and entering the kitchen where Yoongi and Jin were. “What are you guys making?”

“Kimchi Jjigae,” Yoongi answers. “It’s almost done, can someone set the table?”

“I’ll do it,” Hoseok says, getting up.

“Wow… Jungkook, cry for help more often I want this every night,” you laugh.

“Can you all just live with us please,” Jungkook says, walking up to help Hoseok.

“I don’t think my wife would want me moving out,” Hoseok says, laughing.

“How was work?” Namjoon asks you.

“Surprisingly not busy. So they just let me go home. They know I go to school and have my own family back home so since all the staff was there, they just let me off,” you shrug. “I wasn’t going to ask questions, I left right there and then,” you say, laughing along with Hoseok.

“Mommy is back,” Taehyung says, walking out of Sian’s room with Sian, Moonji, and Jimin right behind him.

“Mommy!” Sian yells, rushing to you and jumping in your arms. You pick your boy up, pressing a long kiss to his cheek.

“Hey, how’s my baby?”

“Good! Uncle Jimin and Uncle Taetae helped me clean my room.”

“Hey! Me too!” Moonji yells out in exasperation.

“Speak yourself~” Namjoon says to himself. You tilt your head at him.

“And Moonji helped me too,” Sian says.

“Well that’s good. Thank you uncles, and thank you especially, Moonji,” you say, winking at her. She giggles, running towards her dad, climbing onto his lap.

“So why was daddy crying for help?” You ask Sian. He pouts, for the nth time that night, avoiding eye contact with you.

“Did you do something?” You ask.

Sian slowly nods.

“What’d you do?” Sian looks over to Jungkook and then back to you.

“I was not being a good boy to daddy today,” he says.

“What? Why not?”

“Bad day at school, I’ll tell you later,” Jungkook says.

“Okay, Did you apologize to daddy?”

Sian nods and you look at Jungkook and he nods as well.

“Are you feeling better now though?” You ask Sian now.

“A lot better,” he says.

“Good,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Dinner’s ready,” Yoongi says, gesturing for you to sit down.

“Ugh, I love our friends,” you say to Jungkook.

young one

♛ part six: speak yourself ♛

pairings: photographer, dad!jungkook x hostess, mom!reader

a/n: i was in the mood so .... :) thank you to everyone, btw, who replied to my post about my “life(?)” update, i appreciate each and every one of you! also, omg BE?! y’all better be streaming!!!!

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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 4 years ago

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Getting back at writing, is, well, hard. My grammar and vocabulary and basically everything is messed up so I apologize in advance for that. It's been, almost a year ever since my last written fic. That time I was still crazy with Kimetsu no Yaiba and the KyoTan ship. I'll post it some other time ^^.

Anyways, I present to you my attempt in making a plotted work from a random thought that came over me this morning.

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Basically none. Except for some curse words.

UD 01/10/21: Cleaned and revised some parts! Tried my best, hope it was enough.

•

Of Ice and Blood

Part 1

Quick backstory and some details I left out in the main work.

It was in summer, 28th of July, when Pearl Blackbell turned 19. She left her home and moved closer to the university she’ll be going to. She rented an apartment about five blocks from the school. Albeit small, it was cozy and proper, having what she needed: a kitchen, a decent-sized bedroom, a small living area with a worn but comfy couch, and a bathroom.

When she was younger, her parents started training her in martial arts and the use self-defense weapons. They needed to make sure she knew how to protect herself against assaulters and dangerous people, she was after all, their only child and baby girl . They want their daughter to be strong, both inside and outside, by the time she sets out on her own and leaves home.

Her favorite self-defense weapon was brass knuckles, despite her parents’ protests. She enjoys punching nasty people and feel the crunch of their bones beneath her fists, especially racists, sexists, bullies, and the lot. The main reason why she got into detention multiple times.

Painting it with a ruddy color, she keeps it in her person, no matter where she goes. She has two, one is for extreme situations, while the other has only two knuckles. It stills maximizes the damage dealt but it is relatively less dangerous than the full dusters. The second one is usually a spare, though she rarely uses it.

She also occasionally carries a pair of retractable nunchucks, which she designed to be hidden within her regular baggy clothes. Her father had trained her vigorously with them and she even bested him in a match before she left for the city.

Selkoth, the city of marvels.

Distant sounds of buzzing cars reached my ears as I opened my eyes and blinked away the sleepiness, the light shining from the spaces in my curtains rather helping, together with the warmth it brought to my chilled tawny skin.

[Start of the actual work]

I fully woke up as I registered the sound of my phone alarm, shortly getting up to prepare when I realized what day it was.

Monday, the first day of my college life.

I stepped into the bathroom and took a quick shower, knowing I bathed thoroughly last night to save some time today.

Time management is key.

I dried myself down, turned to my closet and started putting on the outfit I picked out the night before.

Prioritizing comfortability over appearance, I wore my favorite orange cotton shirt, my blackish-blue hoodie (that had been stained with blood some time ago, but don’t worry, I know how to clean out blood. Mama raised no fool.) over it, together with a pair of black skinny jeans. And of course, tight black sports bra and boxers, even mentioning my underwear yes?

I looked over to my mirror and it was—

Simple. And I loved it. The more simple it is the better.

'“Keep a low profile over there, sweetie. Don’t get into fights when you can help it okay??? We already taught you and prepared you to the best of our abilities. Promise to us that you’ll stay safe, and healthy. Okay? And don’t forget to call sometime.”' I sighed, remembering my mother’s words.

"Yes mama, I will.”

With a smile, I did my hair and went for a tight Dutch braid, it going down between my shoulder blades and ending a little above my waist. I ran to my kitchen to eat breakfast, satisfied with my look.

I eat fast okay

Backpack, check. White sneakers, check. Phone and keys, check. Airpods on, playlist shuffled, I bolted out of my apartment and jogged all 50 blocks to school.

Exercise is always important, and what other way to utilize time for exercising than to do it while heading to your destination, right?

I snickered.

As I made my way to the university, I saw bizarre creatures and monsters of different sizes, coexisting, and interacting with humans. Even so, I noticed other people’s disdain and bitterness towards them when I passed by. My nose is awfully sensitive to scents that sometimes the ones their body releases tells me what they feel at the moment. It’s all science, I guess. I was made extra susceptible to these, so I wear a mask everywhere and every time I go out just to partly block most of the smells.

My first day at a university open to everyone across the country gets my blood pumping with excitement. To think that I’m going to study at Ernestine State University, the Ernestine State University!

I first heard about the uni back when I was a child. News broke out about Victor Ernestine, committing suicide by driving his car off a cliff because he couldn’t accept that his daughter was one of the major leaders who made the unity of all people, of all races, possible.

Dramatic.

Months after Mr. Ernestine died, all his properties and riches were passed down to her daughter, who took over as the new founder of the university and rebuilt it to accommodate everyone, no matter the size and shape.

The strictly all-human school, renovated, reshaped, and repurposed, was now the first university to open its gates to everyone in the country of Yundomia.

I’ve always yearned to get to know other species in this world. I didn’t get the chance previously because my parents sent me to an all-human, local high school. Which sucks. I hated how everyone had a certain hatred for the other races, especially orcs. They keep talking about how they are wild beasts and savages that aren’t meant to be in society.

They treated them like animals that are void of emotions and intelligence.

Come to think of it, I mostly fought with humans who were either racist, bullies, bastards trying to hit on me, or a mix of all of them together.

I chuckled, remembering how many times I got counseled on not punching people in the face.

High school was pure torture, being a human-exclusive campus making it worse, considering how everybody smells so horrible and the principal was an egoistic dumbass I was a hair away from gutting him. My poor nose.

But now I’m done with that! I’m starting anew in this school, in this city. Perhaps make some friends along the way.

Which is kinda problematic.

I’m not the social type. I tend to keep things to myself and hardly open up to anybody. I wanna make at least one friend that isn’t human! Or just, one good friend. I didn’t have or made any friends in the past since people tend to shun me out just because I can tell how they are feeling and find it creepy.

Or they’re afraid to get punched in the face.

Entering the campus gates was like stepping into another world. I was met with the sight of humans and monsters walking together and conversing! It was nice, and I don’t get to see this much often.

I walked around and took in the landscape of the campus. It was huge! And beautifully designed to have a great number of trees and plants, while also having space more than enough to accommodate every student going to their respective classrooms.

I was minding my own business and it was all serene, until some bastards pushed past through me and knocking me to the side. I stumbled but didn’t fall. I was gonna say something, but I shut my mouth. I didn’t want to cause any trouble on the first day for goodness’ sake. So I brushed it off and went straight to the gym for the orientation.

*************************************

The orientation was, intriguing. The dean seems nice, though I couldn't smell him from where I sat. There's also a student council made up of both humans and monsters which is a good sign. The student council president was a Minotaur with a dark brown coat and horns curving front and pointing up. The vice-president was a male student who looked decent enough. The secretary was an elf. The treasurer, a dwarf. And the rest were humans. I couldn't scent any of them to tell me what they were feeling at the moment, but the Minotaur looked uncomfortable, his hands behind his back, body going stiff when they were introduced to the freshmen. There was a larger numbr of humans than monsters, which was expected. I also noticed how both were grouped, a white line in the middle of the gym separating us from them.

Maybe to avoid any misunderstandings?

We were informed that today will be for introductions to your classmates and subject teachers so there will be no lessons at all. Hooray!

I was walking to my first classroom when a damned familiar smell attacked my nose. I stopped to stand for a moment and adjusted my mask. I looked around to spot the one emitting it and of course, saw a human. He looked, well, the typical playboy cool boy who used too much body spray on himself.

Not wanting to stand there like an idiot and prolong my suffering, I speed walk to my classroom and planned to sit at the back hoping no one would notice or ask why I’m wearing a mask.

That's always what they ask first. Not my name or how I was doing.

I expected to find no one inside since it was still early, but I was startled to see a massive orc sitting at the back looking out at the window. He was wearing a dark gray knitted sweater that was hugging his hulking frame very…well. Along with what looked like thick cargo pants and black boots.

He turned to look at me when I let out a small yelp, greeting me with his piercing, blue eyes.

Beautiful.

The orc had long, braided, jet-black locks. Two of them had distinct beads that trailed down from the side of his face and down to his chest, the rest of his hair behind him braided with intricacy and tied and ended halfway down his back.

I was pushed out of my trance when a person entered and crashed into me, swearing under my breath that it was intentional, nearly making me plant face-first on the trash bins if I hadn’t changed my footing at the last moment.

“Watch it, bitch, you’re gonna ruin my make-up,” she snapped.

Wow. She dared to call me that and not apologize like I’m the one who shoved her. Just wow. Usually at this point, I would have planted her face on the floor, but I stopped myself.

Low profile! Low profile Pearl! You’re in college now! You definitely don’t want to get suspended on the first fucking day of class now do you?? Keep it together.

Straightening up, I walked towards the back and sat beside the orc. Whose gaze fell on me, curious, when I wasn’t looking.

I made myself settled in my seat before the professor came in.

There were other races in my class. A blue tiefling sat three rows in front, wearing a casual outfit. A black-haired elf who looked and dressed clever, a row away. A cute pink pixie on my far right. A satyr wearing glasses, two seats in front of me, and a female lizardfolk a seat from of the pixie.

"Are you...alright?"

I almost jumped from my seat when the orc beside me spoke. I couldn’t help but admire how deep his voice was. I tried not to appear flustered, my mask helped with that.

“Uh…yes?”

The orc regarded me for a second before continuing.

“You were pushed earlier.”

Oh. He saw that?

“Oh, yeah, I’m okay.” I smiled at him. Then I remembered he can’t see my face. But I hoped the crinkling of my eyes gave it away.

“I’m Pearl, by the way.” I reached out my hand to him, socializing not my best suit but at least I tried.

He paused for a second before taking it into his bigger one, engulfing mine and shook it slowly. I was again, surprised by how gentle he was.

“Tai'chi.”

Interesting.

“Nice to meet you, Tai'chi.”

He lets go of my hand when the professor started talking up front.

“Nice to meet you too, Pearl."

***************************************

Thoughts? I am wide open for constructive criticism :D

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Check pinned post for latest chapter updates💕

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crippleprophet · 4 years ago

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Sorry to bother you but I had a few questions I was hoping to get help with. I just started using a cane but I’m only 16 and I feel really embarrassed about it. Does it ever get easier/less embarrassing? Also is there any way to ease pain on my hand while I’m using the cane? (I already have a gel grip) I have pain in both legs but it’s worse on my right, so I lead with my left, but that’s just making my left leg hurt more. I can’t lead with my right though, it can barely take any weight. Will my leg get used to it eventually or is there something else I could do to help? Sorry this ask is so long, I didn’t really know where else to ask these questions. Thank you so much!

you’re not bothering me at all, & no need to apologize! 🖤 i’m glad you were able to get a cane and i hope it’s been helpful! i’m sorry about those problems though, i relate to that with my experience starting to use one. i didn’t get a cane until my first semester of college but i used axillary crutches on and off for about 2 years in high school and people were really shitty about that so i can only imagine :\ i’m happy to give my input on each of your questions, but obligatory heads up that i’m certainly not an expert - i’m coming from 3 1/2 years as a cane user (in addition to other mobility aids), undergraduate coursework & research on mobility, and half a semester of graduate-level biomechanics.

1) embarrassment: god, i feel this, and i’m so sorry you’re going through that. the short answer is yes, it absolutely gets easier, or at least it did for me, and several factors affected that - the people in your day to day life get over the novelty of it after a while, so for me now the staring is only particularly bad in august-september when a freshman class who hasn’t yet seen me in all my crippled glory comes to campus, and i also learned to cope with it better. one thing that’s really helpful for me has been reading theory or personal essays about similar experiences; there’s all sorts of research on stigma and the politics of staring, and the title of one article called “one lady was so busy staring at me she walked into a wall” made me cry because it was such a relief to not be the only one.

it’s okay to mourn the ability to go out in public without being forcibly made a spectacle, but remember that it’s their fault, not yours. you didn’t do anything wrong. you’re doing something very good; you are taking care of your body in the best way you know how. it’s so frustrating that we’re the ones made to feel ashamed, when ableists are the ones doing such shameful behaviors. i think really often of the “no shame even in shame” post (link) by tai, the founder of cripple punk, and i have stickers on my crutches that say that phrase; it’s been really helpful for me to accept my emotions as they are and allow myself to go through the full spectrum of reactions to an honestly really traumatizing treatment by society & forced separation from my own body.

for me, i still get angry when people are rude to me because i’m a mobility aid user, and i doubt that’ll ever go away and don’t necessarily want it to, but i’m at a point now where i just could not give a shit about their opinion of me, and i’m no longer embarrassed about my body and its needs. this is how i work, take it or leave it. and it’s honestly such a joy and comfort to be fairly firm in that belief, and i hope you reach a place that brings you similar comfort & reassurance 🖤

a couple of sentiments that sustain me in bad days are this sweatshirt (link) by @possum-butch and this art piece (link) by @solstice-snakes. just in general remembering that other people experience this and are hurt by it and rage against it, that i’m not alone. a researcher studying stigma wrote about “the relief of self-isolation” for marginalized people, that exhale when you’re alone and no longer have to experience any hostility, and that resonates so deeply with me. you aren’t overreacting; it’s so understandable that you would feel embarrassed about something people around you, the media, and society at large are trying to tell you is embarrassing. and it’s okay to decide not to interact with people (to the extent of your ability) on the basis of how they make you feel about your body. what you’re experiencing is incredibly difficult, and it’s okay to feel strongly about the injustice of that, and this doesn’t fix it, but i genuinely do think it will get better with time.

2) hand pain: to a certain extent mine got better after about 2-3 weeks using it, it felt a bit worse/sharper than like usual sore muscles and then it calmed down once my body got used to it i guess, and now it only happens after extended periods of time. if yours is worse than that or has been around for longer, though, i’d try to make some changes. also, if you experience any significant or lingering wrist pain, talk to a doctor if possible or try to look it up as best you can because using mobility aids that put weight into your wrist can potentially cause carpal tunnel or other issues (which thankfully isn’t a problem i’ve encountered)

you could try a foam handle grip, it has thicker cushion but not as much give which is why i like the gel grip better, and the texture gets gross and slippery when wet so if you’re in a rainy area that might not be a good call. a different cane tip might help because some of them are designed for better shock absorption, ergonomics, and what not, but i don’t have any specific recommendations - folks reading this, feel free to reply with recs or any other suggestions!

3) leg pain on better side: i had a similar leg pain problem where my ‘good leg’ got worse because i was leading with it. i ended up switching to using forearm crutches (specifically Smart Crutches) after about 9 months because of that and my chronic pain getting worse overall, and that was a good call for me, so that could be an option. even though almost every crutch users still walks leading with one leg, they’re more effective at bilateral pain relief and stability.

it’s okay if it’s intimidating to think about changing mobility aids that soon after starting to use one, though, and losing the option of one free hand makes a big difference, so that might not be the right call for you as an individual; it depends. getting a brace (or a better one, if you already use one) for your left leg could help support it - that’d be a whole post unto itself, but if you or anyone else reading this need a comparison of over-the-counter knee braces, i’ve tried so many kinds and am literally doing a class project on that right now lol. shoes with thicker soles and better shock absorption can also help.

the way people with lower limb pain on one side or that’s worse on one side walk is called antalgic gait - we put more weight on the leg that’s less painful and have a shorter stance phase on that side (the part of walking where all your weight is on that leg as the other leg swings forward). when i started using a cane, this pattern of my gait actually reversed; i started putting more weight on my more painful leg and taking longer steps with that side because the cane was supporting it, and had a shorter stance phase on my less painful side.

it’s possible, to a certain extent, to make those kinds of changes intentionally, but that’s the kind of decision that should be very informed and really carefully weighed. every part of your body affects every other part, so the way you move your legs affects the angle of your hips which in turn affects your spine, and the unfortunate nature of the beast is that adapting to one form of chronic pain can easily cause another. that being said, i haven’t had that problem or specifically learned about negative effects from that particular gait pattern, but if you search “effects of antalgic gait” it’s hard to find anything that isn’t treating a limp as a problem in and of itself because of being visibly disabled, so finding useful information is not ideal.

at least from my personal experience, i would recommend that you not assume the left leg pain from leading is going to get better on its own unless it’s been less than 3-4 weeks or so (although you aren’t obligated to wait that long to try to do something about it; being in worse pain sucks). if you’re using a cane regularly, there will definitely be some soreness and stuff at first, but your body will likely adapt relatively quickly and those will go away, so if you’re past that stage, i’d recommend looking into solutions so you hopefully don’t have to deal with that long(er)-term.

i hope that helps! i started experiencing chronic leg pain when i was 16 so this ask resonated with me really personally, i’m totally open to talking more about this if there are any more asks you want to send or questions you have (& that goes for folks reading this, too!) i really believe that when the system fails us we’ve gotta depend on each other, and the medical system has really failed us, so if possible i want to help out however i can 🖤

#chronic pain #cane user #mobility aids #cripple punk #asks #biomechanics #gait #mobility #shame #tt #c slur reclaimed #long post #faq

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magalidragon · 4 years ago

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fire on ice | a crackish Jonerys drabble

Soooo... @moggett reblogged this post and well I felt compelled to write a drabble for one of those prompts so I give you this crack fic-- a funeral home meet cute!

I give you....FIRE ON ICE! And this is also partially @youwerenevermine‘s fault, lol, because we literally had same idea for one of the prompts.

“Thank you so much Mr. Snow.”

Jon nodded politely, solemnly, his gray eyes the perfect amount of sympathetic, sad, and he hoped the right amount of ‘normal’— lest people think him a total fucking creep—while he shook the hand of the Greatjon Umber, whose son Smalljon Umber had unfortunately encountered the wrong side of a chainsaw while out trimming trees.

Greatjon began to go into a tale about his son—who by all accounts had been a horrible person—speaking like he was the second coming of Aegon the Conqueror for all his ‘talents’ and ‘successes.’ “Hmm,” he murmured, walking him slowly to the door. “He sounds like quite a man your son, thank you Mr. Umber, we will speak later regarding tomorrow.”

“Of course, thank you again Mr. Snow.”

The door shut loudly behind him, Jon slumping against it, relieved. He glanced at his cousin, who had emerged from the basement, shaking her chopped bob out of its messy little knot atop her head. “He gone?” she demanded.

“Aye.”

“I had half a mind to sew his arm on backwards.”

Jon closed the doors to the viewing room where Smalljon rested in repose until tomorrow when he’d be taken to the Karstark’s castle for the final funeral and ultimate burial in the crypts, as was custom for the Northerners. He clicked his tongue. “Arya, be nice.”

“Remember when his wife died, and he squeezed my arse?”

“Aye, I remember.”

“Thought so.” Arya checked her phone. “Your beloved texted me. We have another on the way. This one fell from the Wall. Ygritte said he’s a fucking mess.”

He made a face; he hated that she referred to his ex-girlfriend as his ‘beloved.’ “Will you stop calling her that?”

“She works for the morgue Jon, what were you thinking?”

“It’s hard to find women in this line of work.” He heard the bell ringing on the other side of the old stone house that served as their place of business and home—the five-floor monstrosity he knew people in town referred to as ‘Castle Black.’ He did wear a lot of black. Came with the territory. He waved off Arya. “Just make sure you finish up with Mr. Lannister before the end of the evening.”

“The rich dude who died on the shitter? Yeah, no thanks, that’s all yours.”

“Do you want to take this one? Where the fuck is Robb anyway?” Robb was the master of this shit, not him. He was better with the dead.

Arya walked away before he even could try to play ‘Dragon, Wolf, Lion’ with her or answer as to where her eldest brother happened to have gone off. Guess it was all him. He caught his reflection in one of the mirrors in the hallway, adjusting his black tie at his neck and raking fingers through his curls. It did nothing to tamp them down. He schooled his expression, solemn, and pushed through the dark wooden doors from the funeral home side of the floor to the entry way. He let them swing back and folded his hands in front of him.

“Welcome to Three Wolves Funeral Home, may I help you?” he asked, voice gentle; you never knew who might be waiting to speak with you on this side of the building. He’d been accused too often in Robb’s post-services discussions of being too cold.

The woman standing in a dark red dress with long black overcoat was not someone who appeared to be in mourning, but then you never really knew, some people were good at masking emotions. Her silver hair was in an elegant, braided knot at the back of her head and she had large black sunglasses folded in her hands, gazing at the table with various brochures for caskets.

She turned, blinking wide violet eyes at him, her lips crimson, face pale. “Good afternoon,” she greeted him, eyebrow arching. “I’m inquiring as to your crematory services.”

“For yourself?” he blurted, before he realized how it sounded.

She smirked, while he flushed, thrown off by her stunning beauty. He tried to school his expression again; she could very well have been there for her husband, boyfriend, or other, he did not need to stumbling through this. He wished Robb was there. “That would be interesting, wouldn’t it? Well, I can assure you I’m not here to burn myself alive, but you know…” She inspected her hand, a couple rings on them glittering gold. She grinned up at him. “I have heard stories my ancestors were immune to flame.”

His throat constricted. “Apologies. Can I help you?”

“Your crematory services?” she wondered again, walking by him and into the showroom, running a finger over an ebony casket.

“Ah…I am afraid Three Wolves does not offer such services. We can, however, assist with selecting one, urns, and preparing a memorial service.” He wondered what she was doing; she was now leaning down to look underneath a massive white casket. No one really cared what the underside looked like. He gestured towards the office. “We can speak in private, if you wish?”

The woman shook her head. “No I’m fine, thank you. Just doing a little bit of research.”

“For a relative?”

“Something like that.” She wore very high heels, which clicked loudly on the hardwood. She glanced sideways; eyes shrewd. “Are you one of the Three Wolves on your sign out front?”

“Yes, Jon Snow, I’m the mortician.” It sounded so creepy like that, but it was the truth. Robb handled the hand shaking, the business side. Arya was their resident makeup artist—she could do wonders with faces practically taking them on and off—but he was the one who handled everything else.

“Hmm, yes I heard of you.” The woman offered her hand. “Dany.”

“Jon,” he repeated, like an idiot. He was put off by her beauty, rather disarming. He swallowed hard again. “Nice to meet you. Is there…”

“This was enlightening Mr. Snow. I’ll be back.” Dany wiggled her fingers, waving, striding out decisively. “See you later.”

What the seven hells was that about? He spun on his heel, about to ask her what else he could help her with, when the front door slammed shut, bell ringing on her exit. He heard the door from the services wing open, Robb walking in. He scowled. “Where were you?”

“Talking with the Umbers, heard it went well, did we have a customer?” Robb adjusted his tie, eagerly seeing dollar signs. “Where are they?”

“They left.”

“Damnit Jon!”

He rolled his eyes, storming by. “I’ll be downstairs.”

“With Tywin Lannister? Better make him look good, the Lannisters are paying through the nose for this.”

“Aye,” he said idly, heading downstairs and to his ‘lair’ as Robb referred to it. He shook his head, preparing in the locker room, putting on scrubs and his protective gear. When he tugged on gloves, walking over to the block of freezer drawers, he rolled his eyes again, making another face. He was better with dead people anyway.

-----

A couple of weeks later, Jon saw the beautiful silver-haired woman again, this time from the front step of the funeral home, while Arya sat on the railing, Robb in shocked horror as the sign went up across the street.

Dracarys Funeral Home and Crematory Services

“How did this happen? We had the run of things here!” Robb exclaimed.

Arya cracked her gum. “Want me to get info?”

The silver haired Dany waved from the front step of her home. “Hello Starks!”

Jon shook his head, appalled. “I thought she was just asking because someone died…like they all do.”

“You didn’t think that she was scoping the competition?” Robb shouted.

“I told you I’m better with the dead than I am the living!”

“Oh leave him alone,” Arya chided. She rubbed Ghost’s ears—his great white wolf—gazing across the street again, shrugging. “Maybe we can make this work. Jon, you were the one who met her, maybe you can get some more info. They do crematory, we don’t. Maybe we can make a deal or something.”

Robb nodded, poking his shoulder. “Go over there, find out more.”

Jon sighed. He really didn’t want to do this. “I have that Wall guy to deal with.”

“Jarl will keep, go find out more.”

He slid away from the column, clicking his tongue for Ghost to follow him, the two of them crossing the street and up to Dracarys. He entered into the front room, seeing that everything was a shade of black and red. He glanced at Ghost, who was scanning the space with his bright ruby eyes, white fluffy tail wagging slowly. “What do you think?” he mumbled.

The walnut wood stairs creaked in the back, drawing him towards the door leading away from the showroom and sitting area. He peeked into another part of the old house, just like how their business was set up, with a viewing room and seating area. He moved to another door, which was open, leading down a set of stairs.

A massive black cat yowled from a sunbeam near the door, hissing at Ghost and running off. Ghost didn’t bark but took off after the cat. He sighed, calling out. “Please don’t kill her cat!”

He went down the stairs and pushed open a set of swinging double doors, pausing at the sight. It was state-of-the art and he scowled at some of the fancy equipment he’d been trying to convince Robb to upgrade to for the last year. He ran his tongue over his teeth, arching a dark brow at the woman who had been wearing head-to-toe designer when he’d met her and now was in black scrubs and protective gear, leaning over a dead man, a kit of makeup and brushes next to her.

“Jon Snow,” she called.

“Daenerys Targaryen.” He used her full name. The proprietress of the competition, he would not refer to her as Dany. “You could have told me you were moving in across the street.”

“And you would have shown me around? I think not.”

He stepped closer, curious at what she was working on. His eyebrows flew to his forehead. “Greyscale, huh?”

“Hmm,” Dany murmured. “Yes.” She looked up, grinning. “I saw you coming over, decided not to stop you from finding me. You’re not squeamish.”

“No I’m not.”

“They call you the King of the Dead.”

It wasn’t the worst thing he’d been called. “And you are?” he retorted.

“The Dragon Queen, I suppose you could call me. Or at least, that’s what they called me at mortician school.” She selected another brush, grinning. “I’m offering a service that your busines does not Jon Snow, that’s all.”

“The North doesn’t burn their dead.”

“I know, but many in the South do. There’s plenty of them moving up here.” Dany stood and pushed the gurney with the greyscale man into the freezer, closing the door. She removed her gloves and gear, walking by him, and began to wash up. She tossed a serene smile over her shoulder. “I think we can make this work Jon Snow. Don’t worry about it.”

“Robb isn’t used to competition.”

“And you?”

He shrugged. “I work better with the dead.”

“So do I.” When she finished, she studied him for a few seconds, which unnerved him. He tore his eyes from her, wondering what she was doing. She approached him, hands on her hips. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee?”

He frowned, nose wrinkling, surprised. “Coffee?”

“A hot beverage, sometimes served with milk and sugar? Other times with various accoutrements like cinnamon or chocolate?” Dany’s smile softened. He saw then how gentle she actually was, how soft. It was comforting and he wasn’t even grieving. She must be very good at her job, he thought. He was numb, unsure how best to reply. She patted his arm, stepping by him. “Come on, I’ve got a lovely blend from Braavos.”

In the kitchen on the third floor of her house, where he assumed, she lived, she prepared the coffee. He wondered where Ghost had gone. “This how you get all the competition?” he managed to get out. “Ply them with coffee?”

“Just you.” Dany sat down across from him at a small bistro table in a large bay window, with a beautiful view of the mountains in the distance. She passed him the mug of coffee and used a small ceramic pitcher to pour milk into her coffee. Lifting it to her lips, she smiled again, warm and eyes dancing. “You intrigue me.”

He sipped his coffee—it was very good—a small smile on his lips. “You are an interesting one, Dany…if that is your real name.”

“Only my friends can call me Dany,” she mouthed.

“And we’re friends?”

“Well I hope we’re not enemies.”

Jon figured he’d have to wait it out and see for certain, but he didn’t think enemies was the best word for it. He was not good at this sort of thing, so he chose to continue drinking his coffee. He set the mug down on the table, sighing and cocking his head, a slight furrow to his brow. “I’m not good at this.”

“I know,” Dany shrugged. “But I am.”

Well that was that then, he figured, smiling at her.

-----

“So where did you two meet?”

Jon wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, as one of Sansa’s friends from King’s Landing had cornered him, trying to get info on Robb. “Where did I meet…?” he echoed, playing dumb.

Margaery Tyrell frowned. “Where did you meet Daenerys? Sansa didn’t tell me. In fact, she’s being really weird about things. Won’t even tell me what Robb does for a living.” Her eyes lit up. “I like a challenge.”

“Um, well…”

His wife of the last two hours emerged at his side, looping her arm through his. “We met at a funeral home,” she said, smiling at Margaery’s wide-eyed, horrified expression. Dany gazed up at him, love shining from her beatific face. “In fact, we contemplated holding the reception there, but figured everyone might think that a little weird.” She smiled even wider. “Also in the future, please keep the Fire on Ice Funereal Services in your thoughts for any funereal needs!”

Jon stifled a snort, glad to be rid of the odd questions. He smiled down at his beloved. “We didn’t actually consider the reception there or…did you?”

“No of course not, I don’t want to mix business and pleasure.”

“Isn’t that exactly what we did?”

“Nah, I came to scope out the competition and this really cute guy who couldn’t look me in the eye without blushing wandered in.” Dany rose on her toes, pecking his cheek. She patted her hand against his chest. She beamed again. “Best decision I ever made. I could have sent Viserys.”

At the mention of her annoying older brother, Jon shivered. He squeezed her close. “Very well then. Let’s at least try to figure out a better story, you’re scaring people.”

“Well it is the truth.”

Jon shook his head, but smiled anyway, his arm around her and hers around him, both of them walking off into the crowd of guests. He even thought that he overheard someone say the King of the Dead had found his queen. He kissed her temple, sighing. He certainly did.

THE END

#jonerys #Jonerys au #Jonerys drabble #worst prompts challenge ACCEPTED #I blame Erika for this one #crack fic totally

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charismaandcashmere · 4 years ago

Link

In the modern world, it often seems like it’s harder than ever to accomplish your goals.

It seems like everyone has already done the thing you want to do — that your idea is already out there, that your niche is beyond saturated.

Want to start a blog? You’re up against a million rivals. Thinking about starting a podcast? So is everyone else and their mom. Hoping to write a book? With the advent of self-publishing, you’re not only up against authors approved by major publishing houses, but anyone, anywhere, with a laptop. Want to become a YouTube star? Better hope you get noticed next to the thousands of other folks uploading new videos every day.

There’s seemingly a million graphic designers, a million wannabe filmmakers, a million other, probably more qualified candidates gunning for the same job you want.

And that’s just in the marketplace. In your personal life, the competition can feel equally fierce. In the days of yore, you were just competing against people in your college or church to win the attention of a lady. Now you’re up against every Tom, Dick, and Harry on Tinder. The dating marketplace hypothetically stretches beyond your community to encompass your whole state, maybe even the whole country.

Yes, in both economic and personal spheres, demand seems high, and resources seem scarce. It’s enough to make you decide to give up and not try in the first place.

Yet this feeling of scarcity is just an illusion, a myth.

In truth, there’s never been a more opportune time to live. Not only because it’s never been cheaper and easier to write a book, share your art, or start a business, but because the average person’s ability to execute on the basics has never been in such short supply.

While opportunities to achieve your goals aren’t as scarce as you think, there are areas where true scarcity does exist: in common sense, in social skills, in manners, in reliability. There’s a dearth of people who know, or have the will, to do the stupidly easy stuff to be charming and successful.

Let me give you just one example. Both off the air and on, guests of my podcast will tell me, “I can tell you actually read my book before this interview and I really appreciate that. It’s so rare.” I don’t bring this up to toot my own horn, but rather to point out how ridiculous it is that this might even be something worthy of mention! An interviewer reading someone’s work before asking them questions about it would seem like the barest of bare minimum job requirements — a prerequisite rather than something above and beyond. And yet the majority of podcasters aren’t even taking care of this most basic of basics.

There are tons of people doing what you want to do, but how are they executing? In 90% of cases, not as well as they could be.

That’s your opening. And such openings are absolutely everywhere.

To take advantage of opportunities, people typically concentrate on stuff like building up their resume — going to the best school or getting the right internship. And certainly, these things can help.

But what’s missed is that it’s often doing stupidly easy stuff that’s going to allow you to make friends and land your dream job. It’s doing the stupidly easy stuff that almost no one else is doing that can most readily set you apart from the pack, and up for success.

What is some of that stupidly easy stuff? Below you’ll find a (non-exhaustive) list of the things it’s hard to believe people don’t do more often, and which have a huge ROI because most people can’t be bothered.

1. Send a thank you text when you get home from a nice party/date. In my opinion, this is the #1 easiest and best way to be a more charming texter. Yet almost no one does it. When someone has you over for dinner, or you take someone out on a date, once you part ways, they typically worry a bit as to whether or not you had a good time. And a party host wants to know their effort to throw the shindig was appreciated. So even if you thank your date/host in person at the end of the evening, once you get home, shoot them a confirming text saying, “Thanks again for the delicious dinner. We had such a good time!” Trust me on this, it’s stupidly, stupidly charming.

2. Write handwritten thank you notes, always and often. When an occasion was especially nice, instead of sending a text, write the person a handwritten thank you note and stick it in the mail. And send handwritten thank you notes for anything and everything else. Received a gift? Thank you note. Job interview? Thank you note. Someone helped you move? Thank you note. Someone went to bat for you at work? Thank you note.

Thank you note writing has become such a lost art, and receiving snail mail is so delightful, that sending handwritten appreciation has become one of the most effective ways to set yourself apart from the pack.

3. Edit your emails/texts before sending. No one ever catches all of the spelling and grammatical mistakes contained within their communications, but giving your texts and emails a couple reads before you hit send will tighten things up. These “clean” missives significantly contribute to making a winning digital impression.

4. Know how to make small talk. We spend so much time behind screens, that when we finally meet people face-to-face, our conversation can often be awkward and stilted. But being comfortable with small talk opens a tremendous amount of doors; sure, it starts out with the superficial, but it’s the on-ramp to deeper discussions — the pathway to relationships with potential lovers, new friends, and future employers. Fortunately, once you know the simple methodology that makes small talk flow, it’s easy to master.

5. Don’t be a conversational narcissist. Related to the above. The only kind of talk many people know how to make these days, is about themselves. Someone who knows how to listen and ask good questions comes off as stupidly charming.

6. Don’t look at your phone during a conversation. In an age of scattered attention, a person who can concentrate their attention on you, and fight the urge to look at their phone while you eat or talk — someone who can make you feel like the most important person in the room — is a charmer par excellence.

Can’t seem to pry yourself away? Check out our complete guide to breaking your smartphone habit.

7. Dress well for a job interview. You don’t have to show up to a job interview in a three-piece suit (unless the position calls for it); overdressing can make as poor a first impression as under-dressing. But showing up dressed just one notch above what current employees at the company wear will immediately set you apart from many other candidates. Well-shined shoes, a pressed shirt, and good hygiene will help too.

8. Come to a job interview prepared to ask questions of the interviewer. Whenever we post this article on “10 Questions to Ask in a Job Interview,” HR folks always weigh in with how “amazed” they are at the number of candidates who stare blankly when asked at the end of an interview, “Do you have any questions for us?” Know some questions to ask going in.

9. Take a woman on a real date. In a landscape of “What’s up”? texts and non-committal hang outs, taking a lady on a real date puts you head and shoulders above other suitors. What constitutes a real date? Watch this video and remember the 3 P’s: Planned, Paired Off, and Paid For.

10. Offer a sincere apology when you mess up. My generation seems to struggle with saying “I’m sorry” when they make a mistake. Numerous times I’ve had my order messed up at a restaurant, and when I bring it to the attention of the waiter or manager, they just shrug, say “Okay,” and fix it, without saying, “I’m sorry about that.” Then the other day an order of mine got messed up, and the manager took a totally different tack — comping my whole meal and bringing me a free dessert. That kind of treatment is so rare, it was unbelievably winning. I even found the manager after my meal to tell her so, and let her know I would specifically make an effort to return because of her gesture.

As it goes in the restaurant biz, so it goes with everything else. Most of your fellow employees will just say “Okay” when an error is brought to their attention. Offering a sincere apology that demonstrates you take responsibility and understand where you messed up and how it affects the company, will easily set you apart (so will immediately trying to make it right and preventing it from happening again).

And in your personal life, apologizing when you stumble is stupidly endearing. You’ll probably mess up again, and often with the same issue, but even when you can’t completely overcome your flaws, showing you’re at least completely aware of them goes a long, long way.

11. Follow through. I get a lot of emails from guys who want to do something with the Art of Manliness, like write a guest article or strike up a business partnership. They are excited! They are passionate! They are…MIA. They never follow-up or follow-through on their idea. I’ve often wondered what happens between their excited initial email, and their descent into silence. But whatever it is, it can easily be avoided by those committed to following through.

12. Be reliable. No quality today can more readily set you apart from your peers than reliability. Doing the follow-through just mentioned. Showing up on time (and just plain showing up). Meeting deadlines. Managing expectations and not overpromising. Promptly responding to emails. Keeping your word.

Are freelance graphic designers, artists, video/audio editors, app developers, programmers, contractors, etc. a dime a dozen? Surely. But a reliable creative professional or handyman? A pink unicorn. If you couple talent and skill with reliability, it’s stupidly easy to dominate your competition and your niche.

When you survey the economic and dating markets, they can seem incredibly oversaturated. Demand seems high and resources seem scarce. But when you take a closer look, you’ll find that while there are plenty of people all grasping after the same thing, there are only a few executing well on the attempt. Setting yourself apart isn’t complicated or hard; it often involves simply doing the stupidly easy stuff that everyone else overlooks.

Their obtusity is your gain; see through the myth of scarcity, take care of the basics, and the world is your oyster.

#my links #art of manliness #etiquette #the myth of scarcity

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 4 years ago

Text

Alright, chapter 8! And man is there a lot to talk about here. I don’t really have any pre-content things to say, so we’ll just hop right into it today!

[No. 8 - Rage, You Damned Nerd]

I swear, this first page has a LOT to talk about on it, so I’ll go from panel to panel and do some rambling thoughts on each segment.

First off, UA doesn’t actually handle the costumes the kids get! It’s support companies affiliated with the school that does - which makes sense, since the school has to focus on teaching their support students before letting them get their hands on actual costumes that these kids might be fighting in.

I mean, they seem to be allowed to practice on like, minor support stuff (read: Mei making Izuku his new gloves post-Nighteye or somewhere around there) but not full costuming, which is… actually a bit reassuring? But also explains some of the lag time in getting costume repairs / upgrades since they’re probably busy companies. It also explains why there probably aren’t major alterations to any costumes besides between the summer and winter variants, since it would be time-consuming to remake these costumes so regularly.

(It still doesn’t excuse some of the costumes the kids got, but that’s more on the whole ‘eye candy’ thing for readers than actual practicality, so whatever.)

(Also, I can’t get over the fact that Snipe has a support company. Fucking Snipe. Guess we know another canon or likely-canon Support teacher.)

Next we get a preview of what the kids sent in for specifications for their costumes:

We get a bit of insight into a few of the characters - as background stuff, we get Shouji, Mineta, Aoyama, and Sato. Mineta got pretty dunked on for char design and costuming, and Aoyama’s costume almost looks like a magical girl outfit like this, which honest to god would have been fantastic to see him in. More interesting (at least to me) are the other three: Ochako, Tenya, and Katsuki.

Ochako first, because that pressure point thing is interesting, and I dunno how often those actually come up in fics besides a passing mention, like. What if her support bracelets / neck piece broke during training / a mission / whatever? Would she suddenly have to fight through the nausea? By the point of current canon (War Arc) she’s probably trained enough that she doesn’t need them as much, but man, it could be an interesting little thing to explore, like, post-Kamino.

Tenya is a bit surprising, since we know he comes from a well-off hero family. Logically, this was before the whole Hosu / Ingenium plotline was really developed, so Tenya didn’t have that to fall back on, or it could be argued that the support company that Ingenium is associated with also works with UA. Alternatively, it could be that either Tenya didn’t want to rely on his family (which seems silly when they’d know how to work with his quirk best) or UA is very firm on ALL costume stuff going through them…

But then again, Katsuki. Oh god, Katsuki. What fucking support company looked at this kid and went ‘yeah we should give him a way to store more explosives AND give him bombs’ and just. Did so. Why did UA not vet that. Maybe the support company didn’t realize how strong his explosions were without the gear, but UA, man, I just. I suppose they had no way of knowing how reckless he’d be with them, but honestly, after the battle trials, they should have been fucking yoinked from him so damned fast.

Anyways, onto other parts of Katsuki’s costume, we see he’s a fucking dork. Possibly what lowered their guard. ‘Something scary’ and ‘Dynamighte all over’. What the hell, kid. At least your designer stuck close to your design… including the huge-ass clunky gauntlets. Man, the Musketeer Trio movie poster ones are so much better looking and so, so streamlined. Works of art, they are.

Moving on, we get a bit of a flashback to ~three weeks ago, which by the calendar would be around March 20th? So a few weeks after the Entrance Exam. And Izuku is only NOW getting around to updating the quirk registry? Izuku baby seriously, how the FUCK did none of the UA staff notice the ‘quirkless’ on your application form at any point before this?

But yeah, he’s worried about his registry, so he calls Toshinori, who explains the update process. It gives the example of someone who might alter their stuff with updated information, with one or two allowed - though major ones aren’t accepted. Toshinori then says it’ll probably be okay since he started with nothing, then tries to correct himself to ‘definitely’, only to get cut off because Izuku accidentally hangs up in a panic when Inko calls out that she’s home. Haha poor Toshinori, and poor Izuku, the two anxious dumbasses.

Anyways, moving on from that is Inko showing off the jumpsuit she made, with Izuku surprised. She admits it’s not the coolest, but she based it off of the design in his notebook (the one we saw back in chapter 1). She tells him she regrets giving up on him back then, and how he never quit regardless of her faith. She apologizes and says from there on she’ll be cheering him on with all she’s got.

Izuku’s narration notes that it’s a symbol of his mom’s love, and that he couldn’t wear anything else, even if it’s not ‘efficient’ or ‘cutting edge’. (Or even at all decent looking.) And it’s also hinted through the present thoughts on it that it’s meant to be an homage to All Might (the smile and the hair pieces) which is just such a dorky thing.

We get to the wide-spread of hero costumes, which- wait a second.

That’s Momo’s initial hero costume design???? Why did Hori not stay with that??? It’s a LOT better than the stuff we’ve seen her in later! Like, sure, it’d still be improved with the main opening being her stomach and not her chest, but this still looks like actual human clothing and not a sexy Halloween costume variant of her hero uniform. Fucking hell, now I’m even more mad.

Tsuyu’s costume meets the approval of the discord server as basically ‘no changes needed’ asides from maybe the goggles being a bit bulky.

Tenya’s costume, I’m sorry, I know it’s an homage to your brother / family, but were the additional pipes really needed? Also, the helmet isn’t a bad idea since he goes fast, and bugs in the mouth/teeth have to suck, but it just looks so damned Gundam-y I can’t help but laugh a little.

Shouto… nah, too easy a target.

Aoyama is Aoyama. I’m actually a bit disappointed now that it’s not a magical girl costume, but alas, I suppose even Hori couldn’t be that brave.

Kaminari… I forgot he had that headset thingy.

Don’t really have much else to say about anyone else, so let’s move on.

Izuku bugs out a bit about Ochako’s costume/appearance, while she compliments his more practical looks and laments not being specific, saying it’s a bit too puffy and curvy for her. Which means it’s more the accessories which seem to be her issue with it over the main costume itself? Huh.

Anyways, after All Might confirms they’re all there, he notices Izuku’s headpieces, which are a match to his costume, and has to turn to muffle a laugh for how obvious a reference it is. Tenya steps up, asking whether they’ll be doing cityscape maneuvers again since it’s the same field used in the entrance exam. Izuku thinks to himself how cool Tenya’s costume is, while All Might explains that they’re moving onto step two - indoor anti-personnel battle training!

He explains what while villain battles are most commonly seen outdoors, statistically the worst crimes and villains are more likely to be found indoors. Confinement, house arrest, black market deals… the clever villains luck indoors to avoid heroes. Which is why the class will be split into teams of two and pit against each other, heroes versus villains style!

Ah, Tsuyu. Calling him right the heck out, as expected. All Might then notes that in this scenario, the fight won’t be against disposable robots.

This entire page is just fucking hilarious. The class and all their questions while All Might is shaking with nerves. The fucking cheat sheet he uses to try to get back on track. Him being questioned on the lot drawing, and shaking while Izuku accidentally ends up covering for him. I just. All Might was not prepared for this mess and it shows. He was doing so much better when it was the one on one stuff with Izuku.

But yeah, Izuku notes the scenario is like from a western comic plot, and he’s also the one who ‘realizes’ the lots are like when heroes from different agencies have to team up for emergencies without prior warning.

Lots are drawn, and we have our teams:

Izuku’s so stressed out because he still can’t really talk to her, while she’s excited to be teamed up and calls it ‘fate’ that it happened. All Might draws the first two teams to participate, and… team Izuku and Ochako (as the heroes) versus team Katsuki and Tenya (as the villains). Both Izuku and Katsuki are alert from this development…

Which makes this a good point to cut off, since it’s halfway through and we got a lot of information to chew on already. Second part should be out this weekend (hopefully).

#chapter 8 #readthrough #opening arcs #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #uraraka ochako #iida tenya #yagi toshinori #bakugou katsuki #midoriya inko #class 1a #izuku's first costume was fucking hideous #thank god hori / the support company improved on it afterwards #also shouto #i don't even need to say anything when the fandom has made fun of your for me #also i cannot BELIEVE we were robbed of this momo costume #what the FUCK hori

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behind-the-scenes-of-dl · 4 years ago

Text

Before we start, I wanna clear some things up.

Lore- Logan

Dusk- Lewis

Gen- Len

Speck- Lex

Ocarina- Lee

Mask- Lloyd

RGBV- Red = Lucas, Blue= Liam, Vio = Luca, Green = Levi

Sketch- Laurence

Realm- Lincoln

Wind- Linus

Steam- Lucius

Shadow- Lance

Oni- Lazlo

SS Zelda- Zinnia

FS Zelda- Zoe

MC Zelda- Zoey

OoT/MM Zelda- Zara

TP Zelda- Zahra

FSA Zelda- Zariya

LTTP/OoA/OoS/LA Zelda- Zyunko

LBW Zelda- Zendaya

LoZ/AoL Zelda- Zelda

WW/PH Zelda (Tetra)- Zayomara

ST Zelda- Zia

His eyes opened widely, hair clinging to him as a thick layer of sweat dripped down his face. Staring blankly at the ceiling, he felt his hands gain life, raising them to his face and wiping what he could away before sitting up and gripping his sheets.' The same one again…' he thought to himself, wiping his face dry and getting down from his bed. He blinked his eyes rapidly, stumbling his way to his bathroom. Opening the door, he made eye contact with the mirror. Heavy bags laid below his eyes, his dyed pink hair messily laid around his head and his shirt hung loosely on his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and released the air. He opened them again, staring at himself in the mirror. "So, the audition is today…?" He asked himself. He flinched as he felt fur collide with his leg and small purrs emitted from the animal.

Turning behind him, he saw a kitten rubbing its face. "Snow, you scared me", he said, bending down and petting the cat.

Breathing heavily, hands shaking and sweat dripping down his face, Logan turned the knob of the large building door and entered, eyes closed tightly. "Hey!" Logan flinched, as an average height pale skinned brunette walked towards him. "Are you here for the auditions?" They asked, clipboard in hand, pencil tucked behind their ear. "Y… yes, my-my name is… Lo-Logan Lore…" he muttered out silently, his voice drowned out by the busy room and loud speaking. The brunette still nodded, carefully taking him to a separate room and closing the door, the sounds from the previous room drowned out. "Now, repeat your name, please? I couldn't hear it too well." They said slowly, sitting behind the desk at a far side of the room.

Logan took measured steps forward and sat down at a chair near the desk. "Logan Lore" he said a bit louder, eyes darting across the room. "Can… can anyone-" he was cut out by the brunette shaking their head. "No, they can't hear us. You don't have to be afraid here, I'm the only one here."

Lore tried to speak but his throat felt clogged up, stammering and stuttering, gibberish flowing from his mouth, rather than words.

"I'll start then, to give you some time to breathe." They said, sitting down in an office chair just big enough for two people. Logan decided to sit down in one of the normal school chairs present in the office, taking note of how this looked like the principal's office in a highschool. "My name is Charlotte Chai," they started off, hand extended for a hand shake, round green eyes staring softly at him. He shook their hand, only lasting a few seconds before they let go. "I'm the director of the show we're making here." He nodded and held up a flier. The audition flier. "I guessed as much," they said, smiling. "What did you say your last name is?"

"Lore…" he muttered out.

"I see. You wanna go over the lines, see if you're fit for any roles? Or would you like some tea first?"

"Tea…" he muttered out again, moving his chair closer to the desk. A knock sounded from outside and Logan ducked his head just as a child, no older than 13, entered, some pastries in hand. "I made everyone snacks"

"Ah, thank you Lincoln, you can leave them right there." The child, Lincoln, nodded and set them down, closing the door before leaving again. Logan peeked at the plate of pastries and saw some sword and shield shaped cookies. He chuckled silently. "You want to try one?" Charlotte asked, which scared Logan. "I… sure." He said, not looking at Charlotte. He quickly nabbed a shield from the plate which made Charlotte laugh a bit. " It makes sense you picked a shield." "Huh?... Why?"

"Because you've been hiding from me the whole time you sat here."

Logan flinched a bit and looked down, muttering apologies, which caused the brunette to laugh a bit more. "It's alright, I'm not judging. Just an observation." They said, grabbing a cookie from the pile. "How good are you at acting?"

"I'm not", Logan answered.

"Why are you here then?"

"I… I wanted to see if I'd get the part." He paused. "Make some friends."

"Well, if that's all, you can go outside. There are 16 people, a good majority of them are children, and they're the ones who see if you should or should not be in the show. Well, mostly Lewis and Lance."

Logan felt his stomach drop and he slowly stood up, shuffling to the door. Before he could open it, he heard the rattle of the door knob and the door flung open, slamming into him and, due to the heaviness of the door, getting thrown into the wall.

The air was knocked from his lungs and he gasped for air. He slid down the wall, clutching his chest; he was pretty sure he cracked a rib or something, and he could feel the blood - or was it snot?- dripping down his nose. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry!" Someone said from the door. He could hear Charlotte run over from their spot on the desk, another voice come from behind the door, more angry- was it at him?- but he couldn't understand what he said. He blinked his eyes a couple of times and his eyes managed to focus, ears ringing slightly.

"Y… ok?"

He nodded once and held his head, a bump was already starting to form.

"That was a bad throw, Lewis be more careful next time" Charlotte scolded a tall man; no, he only looked tall. Lore could stand beside him and be taller, even if by a bit. He felt a hand on the back of his head, Charlotte's hand, he recognized it from earlier, and then his forehead was rested on said brunette's shoulder. Warmth crept up to his face, cheeks dusted in a light pinkish hue. He felt slim fingers play around with his hair and he flushed even more, his entire face burning up even more. He tried to speak, his voice trapped, but Charlotte seemed to understand. Soon he heard sirens, an ambulance, most likely, and he counted the seconds before a doctor showed up.

He couldn't hear what the doctor was saying too, well, Charlotte was expressionless the whole time, so even then he couldn't read their body language. He just hid behind his turtleneck sweater and waited for the day to end already. He hid and waited. And waited. Soon enough he got bored of waiting, thinking of ways to pass the time. Back at home, Snow was being taken care of by his roommate, whom he hadn't been able to see in several days but he knew he'd pass by; he'd leave small post it notes with words of encouragement and little doodles on the front page of his notebooks- he almost always used the art one, whether it was hidden away in Logan's closet or not. He could never say he hated his roommate, but they didn't spend that often together. Logan would always hide away while Ravio- was that his name or was it something else?- had been outside making him breakfast and then heading to work.

How was he doing? Was he ok? Did he need help? Maybe he did and Lore was here, sitting in a comfortable chair in his boss' office with 3 stitches and a bandage on his head.

"I came as fast as I could-" Ravio came charging in, he had not dressed properly, his hair was disheveled, Snow sat on his hoodie pockets, the small teacup cat purring softly in her sleep. Logan gasped happily and scooped up his kitten, petting her as she positioned herself again, small ears twitching slightly. He could hear the muffled noises of Ravio talking to Charlotte. He didn't focus on them, his kitten was here, that's all he needed.

For now…

#dimensional links #Logan Lore #Lore #Lewis Dusk #Dusk #Implied Changeling #yes they get a tag #DL #Riley Ravio #Ravio #BehindTheScenes:DL #BTS:DL

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xomarauders · 4 years ago

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hello everyone,

it has been far too long since i have posted anything on here and for that i apologize, but i have been working on some of my own writing as well as just dealing with personal stuff so please forgive me.

i also might be changing this blog up a bit and start posting more than just marauders fanfiction (such as some of my own writing perhaps). i’m still not sure about this idea because i don’t really want to change my user name or anything and i do want to contiue writing fics so we’ll see!

anyway, without further ado, here is my latest fic for yall :) hope you enjoy! (p.s. there is a second part coming!!!)

tw: internalized homophobia, implied child abuse, depictions of a panic attack

The cold December air was harsh against Marlene’s skin as she stood outside the small record shop she had been frequenting since she was fourteen. It was tucked away in the side of a building in London, offering solace to those who did not seem to fit in with the more fast-paced, business-like folk you so often saw among the sidewalks. The cigarette in her hand was offering little warmth but seemed to be calming her nerves, so she stayed outside to finish smoking it. It was winter break from Hogwarts and Marlene was relieved to be away from school for the time being as well as away from her friends. She couldn’t face them at the moment. Not after what she did.

Marlene rolled her eyes at herself for thinking of things she’d rather forget and tossed the butt of her cigarette to the ground before crushing it with the toe of her combat boot. With one last glance toward the busy street, she retreated into the record shop which greeted her immediately with the chime of a bell and rock music playing throughout the speakers of the store.

A man at the register with short, dirty blonde hair and rings through his eyebrows glanced up at her entrance, a smile appearing on his face.

“Marlene! Haven’t seen you in a while.” He commented, swinging his legs over the counter and making his way toward her. Marlene gave a non-committal shrug but returned the high-five he offered her with semi frozen fingers.

“How has business been, Curtis?” She asked, glancing around the nearly empty shop. There was no one else in there aside from the two of them and Marlene felt her heart break just a little bit. This was one of her favorite places to be, a place she and her friends would escape to during the summer to be with one another. She wondered if their absence was the reason for her melancholic mood.

“It hasn’t been bad. Just caught me on a slow day.” Curtis replied, seeming to notice Marlene’s shift in behavior. “Lily was in here the other day, actually. Got herself a few new albums.”

Marlene looked up at the mention of Lily and felt her cheeks burn slightly. She wondered if Lily had mentioned anything about the incident to Curtis. Judging by the passive look on his face, she assumed not and tried to school her own expression into a neutral one.

“Yeah? What albums?”

After Curtis introduced her to the new music Lily had gotten, Marlene picked up a few albums of her own to purchase before leaving the shop to get back home. She would have stayed to visit with Curtis longer, but she didn’t want to linger in a space that reminded her so much of her friends at the moment and she especially didn’t want to run into them anytime soon.

It was a bit of a walk to the closest floo station and the London streets were bustling with people walking home from work or coming out for the night. Marlene kept her head down, staring at the pavement in front of her and wrapping her jacket tightly around herself, blocking out the bitter cold as best she could. Suddenly, a body collided against her and she fell backwards, dropping her records in the process.

“What the fu—?” Marlene was cut off by the commotion of being pulled off the sidewalk and dragged into a nearby alley way.

She looked up, ready to scream insults at her attacker, but stopped at the sight of Sirius Black’s face. His hair was tied up in a bun, though most of it seemed to have fallen out, and there was a wide look of panic in his eyes that matched the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He was trembling finely and looked ready to pass out as he glanced behind him in a paranoid manner. It seemed as though he was running from something. Or someone.

“Sirius?” Marlene asked, keeping her voice low. She turned to look in the direction where Sirius was peering and spotted two men seemingly searching the crowd. Her eyebrows raised. There was something off about the two men…they did not fit in with the rest of the crowd, the clothes they wore were different, not really matching and the confused, disgusted looks on their faces made them stick out like sore thumbs. Realization hit her like a ton of bricks—they were wizards trying to blend in with a muggle crowd. Purebloods, to be exact.

She whirled around to look at Sirius once more. “Sirius, who are those men?” She hissed, desperate to know what kind of danger they could possibly be in. Rumors about dark wizards had begun circulating around Hogwarts for months now. Followers of Voldemort that had begun to call themselves “Death Eaters” were threatening the lives of muggleborns, though Marlene had never actually seen any such wizard. Until now, she supposed.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” Sirius said, completely ignoring her question. He looked down towards the other end of the alley to see a chain link fence and cursed. They were trapped it seemed and Marlene felt herself begin to panic.

“Sirius,” She said, her voice urgent, though she wasn’t sure what she was pleading for.

He turned to her once more, gripping her shoulders tightly and staring at her intently. “I have an idea, but you have to promise me that you won’t breathe a word of this to anybody, do you understand?”

Marlene nodded and then watched with complete shock and awe as Sirius disappeared, a large, black dog appearing in his place. Animagus, she realized with a jolt. The dog turned away, walking back down the alley before turning and barking at Marlene, as if motioning for her to follow. She blinked a few times, still shocked at the sudden change of events, before following him back into the streets. He stopped where she had dropped her records and Marlene bent down to pick them up, a slight frown playing on her lips at the sight of the bent corners of the packaging. She was just about to scold Sirius when a rough voice behind her cleared their throat. She looked up, just as Sirius growled, to see the two men from earlier standing there.

The men did not seem to pay attention to the dog, focusing their gaze solely on Marlene instead. She tried to keep her face neutral, raising a single eyebrow in their direction. “Can I help you?”

“Have you seen a boy run through here?” The shorter of the two men asked, his lip curling in disgust. The other man eyed Marlene warily, taking in her muggle attire and turning his nose up at the mere sight. Marlene tried not to roll her eyes.

“No.” She replied, sounding calmer than she felt.

The two men shared a look, as if trying to decide whether or not she was telling the truth, before nodding their understanding and moving past her without another word. Marlene felt as Sirius curled around her legs, watching as they disappeared around the corner before letting out a victorious bark. She looked down at him, shaking her head.

“I suppose you need somewhere to hide for a while?”

Another yelp and wag of his tale gave Marlene all the answers she needed.

****

“Well, this is home.” Marlene said with a sigh, dropping her records onto her bed with a soft thud. Sirius—still in his canine form—sniffed around before cocking his head in her direction and allowing his tongue to roll out of his mouth. Marlene wrinkled her nose at the slobber. “I think you are safe to go back to your usual…form. Unless you’re stuck that is.”

Again, Marlene watched in amazement as Sirius came back to himself, a shiver running through his body as he grinned at her. “Nice room you’ve got, McKinnon. Am I the first boy you’ve brought home?”

“Care to explain what just happened?” She asked, not caring for the way he seemed to avoid explaining himself.

Sirius shrugged, moving toward the desk in the corner of the room and running his fingers down the various artwork Marlene had spread out there. A look of wonder shined in his eyes as he delicately examined the paintings and drawings as if they were some sort of precious treasure. He stopped at a particular piece of a woman’s face done with charcoal pencil and Marlene felt herself blush at the way he traced the strokes that molded her lips.

“These are wonderful. Who did them?”

“I did.”

Sirius turned, his eyebrows raised with surprise and admiration. “Really? I didn’t know you were an artist.”

She stood up, marching over to where he stood, and removed the drawing from his grasp, shoving it beneath the rest of the art, effectively obscuring it from his wandering eyes, before turning to face him once more.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Black.”

She did not miss the way he seemed to flinch away from her before shaking it off and plastering another smirk across his face. “Touché.” He spoke quietly.

Marlene felt a jolt of guilt in her gut, feeling bad for snapping at him. He was merely admiring her work. He did not understand the context of her drawing and likely wouldn’t make the connection. Afterall, he did not live in her mind where all the confusing thoughts and doubts resided. He could not possibly know her dirty little secret.

“Just…tell me what happened back there. Do I need to be afraid that someone might follow you here?” She asked, changing the topic.

“Those were the Lestrange brothers. Rabastan and Rodolphus. Purebloods. Family friends.”

“Why were they looking for you?”

“Because I may have said something rather…deplorable at my dear cousin’s engagement party.” Sirius said it with a grin, but Marlene noticed the flicker of fear in his eyes.

Marlene vaguely knew about the Black family and the way they presented themselves. Most of her ideas about them came from the mere reactions Sirius had whenever someone brought the prestigious bloodline. He was always loud about it, shouting about how stuck up they were in the Gryffindor common room and how grateful he was that he had not followed in their footsteps and ended up in Slytherin. She also knew that they were blood purists, believing that muggles were beneath them.

From what she had gathered, she was not a fan of them.

“Is there any way they can find you here?” Marlene asked, unwilling to allow her family to become endangered for hiding a self-proclaimed fugitive. Sirius just laughed, shaking his head so that his hair flung about. Marlene would have found it amusing how much it reminded her of a dog if it were under difference circumstances.

“I doubt they would. Going into muggle London was bad enough for them, they’re not going to continue their search in a muggle neighborhood.”

Marlene did not get the chance to ask what Sirius planned to do next due to the sound of the front door opening and her family announcing their presence.

“Marls!” Her father shouted up the steps. “We’re home!”

“Come down and tell us how your trip to London was. Your brother has been pestering me all afternoon about not letting him go with you.” Her mother spoke with a laugh and Marlene heard her brother scoff indignantly.

Marlene turned to Sirius, pointing a finger at him and giving him the best glare that she could. “Be on your best behavior. Go along with everything I say, are we clear?” Sirius just nodded, unwilling to cross her and with a final nod Marlene turned to exit the room with Sirius following closely behind. As they entered the living area, Marlene watched as her brother’s eyes went wide at the sight of Sirius.

“Mum! Marlene’s brought a friend home!” He announced. The McKinnon’s turned, a look of surprise on each of their faces at the sight of the young man standing in their home. Marlene’s mother turned to her and offered a hesitant smile.

“Marlene, who’s your friend?”

“Mum, dad, this is Sirius. He goes to school with me.”

Her father instantly lit up, clasping her hands together as he plopped down on the sofa. “Another wizard! How nice to meet you, young man. I’m Grant McKinnon, but you can just call me Grant.” He offered Sirius a hand and Marlene tried her best not to smirk as Sirius suddenly stood up a bit straighter and shook her fathers’ hand as if he were meeting the Queen.

“A pleasure to meet you, sir. Lovely home you have here.”

“What a gentleman.” Her mother laughed lightly. “I’m Lottie.”

This time, Marlene had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing as she watched Sirius gently kiss her mother’s hand. Merlin, he really was a posh bastard.

“I’m Freddie.” Her brother greeted, not wanting to be left out, and Sirius’s eyes lit up.

“Like Freddie Mercury?”

“Exactly!” Freddie exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

Just as Marlene was about to interrupt to give an explanation as to why Sirius was there in the first place, her family initiated a game of twenty questions directed toward the poor boy.

“So, you go to Hogwarts then?” Lottie asked, an easy smile playing on her lips. She moved to sit by her husband, smoothing out her yellow sun dress as she did so. Sirius nodded, a proud smile appearing on his face.

“Yes. Sorted into Gryffindor, just like Marlene.”

Grant leaned forward; an eyebrow raised. “That’s the one with the lion, right?”

Marlene rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Dad, you know it is.”

Her father merely laughed, raising his hands in defense as he leaned back once more. “I just want to make sure! I never went to Hogwarts now did I?”

“Oh, did you go to Beaubaxtons?” Sirius asked and Marlene cringed.

“Oxford, actually.” Her father answered easily, and Sirius glanced at Marlene with clear confusion on his face. Grant didn’t seem to mind though, catching on to what Sirius wasn’t fully understanding. “I don’t have magic, son.”

Sirius’s eyes went wide for the hundredth time that day it seemed, and he grinned wickedly. “You’re a muggle.” He stated as if he had just made a new discovery. Marlene got the impression that Sirius had never really spoken to a muggle before now.

“You’re pureblood then, Sirius?” Marlene’s mother asked, quickly connecting the dots of Sirius’s curiosity.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah I am.” Sirius shifted a bit uncomfortably and Lottie frowned at the sudden change in behavior.

“I was the only witch in my family.” Lottie continued, changing the subject. “Was sorted into Ravenclaw at Hogwarts.”

“That’s what I’m going to be.” Freddie piped up, puffing his chest out in perfect eight-year old fashion. Marlene rolled her eyes.

“You still have three more years and there’s no guarantee you’ll follow in mum’s footsteps.”

Freddie narrowed his eyebrows and glared at Marlene. “But I want to be a Ravenclaw.”

“You can be whatever you want to be, mate.” Sirius said solemnly and Marlene found herself surprised at the sincerity in Sirius’s voice. She had never known Sirius to behave in such ways at school, often getting into trouble and shouting about loudly and animatedly. What he said had seemed to be an acceptable answer for Freddie, though, who beamed right back at Sirius.

“Sirius needs a place to stay.” Marlene blurted suddenly, and everyone’s attention turned toward her once more. Her mother gave her a dubious look, waiting patiently for an explanation while her father seemed to not even question the notion.

“For how long?” Grant asked.

“Oh. Uh, you don’t have to do that, sir. I’ll be okay on my own.”

Lottie leaned forward, reaching out for Sirius who instantly flinched in return, causing her to draw her hands back quickly, a stunned look on her face at his reaction. She cleared her throat and fixed him with a serious look. “It’s not problem if you need somewhere to sleep, Sirius. I would just like a reason and an idea of how long you would be staying.”

Sirius glanced at Marlene hesitantly. Clearly, he had not planned on staying here but he also had not planned on going home. Had he assumed that she would kick him to the streets? Perhaps that was what he had intended to do all along. Marlene frowned at the idea of Sirius wandering aimlessly about London, probably in his Animagus form, just to hide away from his family. She wondered how terrible they must be for him to resort to such a thing.

Marlene turned back to her parents, a resolute look on her face. “However long he needs.”

****

Grant quickly set up a cot for Sirius in Freddie’s bedroom—who was far too excited to have a roommate for the time being—and Sirius offered his thanks every five minutes with Grant dismissing it with a wave of his hand stating “it’s just what we do, son.”

Marlene was preparing for bed in her own room when a tentative knock came from the door. “Come in.”

Her mother walked in, shutting the door behind her with a soft click before making herself comfortable on Marlene’s bed. She looked at Marlene with a curious but open expression and Marlene found herself wondering if her mother could see right through her.

“Is Sirius…someone you fancy?” She asked, and Marlene realized that perhaps her mother couldn’t see her at all.

“No.” She answered honestly, and her mother nodded, accepting the answer without question. Lottie still sat there though, mulling something around in her brain it seemed before letting it out.

“Is he in trouble?”

Marlene considered her mother’s question. The truth was that Marlene really wasn’t sure if Sirius was in trouble or not. It could just be him being his usual dramatic self and getting a kick out of ruining some extravagant family function, but somehow it felt different. The look of pure fear in his eyes when they were in that alley way was burned into her mind.

“I don’t know.” She said finally, her voice sounding more childish than she cared for. Her mother sighed, standing up and opening her arms which Marlene gratefully fell into. She closed her eyes, grateful that her parents were who they were. That they were so accepting and helpful towards everyone. It made her proud to be their daughter. She wondered idly if they would be accepting of everything or if there was some unforeseen limit to which their compassion reached.

Marlene thought about the events that occurred just a few days ago. The firewhiskey her and her friends had indulged in, intent on having one last night of fun before leaving each other for the winter holiday. She thought about the tingly feeling in her stomach as she leaned forward, placing her lips against Lily’s. She thought about the shocked look on Lily’s face and the small sound of surprise that came from Alice’s mouth. She thought about how she ran away before she could even give her friends a chance to ridicule her for her actions.

It had been eating at her ever since, and now, as her mother held her in her arms, she wondered how she would react to the idea of her daughter liking girls.

“Mum?” Marlene asked, her heart rate picking up speed and hands starting to shake.

“Yes, dear?” Lottie pulled back, a look of concern on her face.

Marlene felt her throat close up, blocking off the words she wanted to confess. I can’t do this. Not now.

“Never mind.” She breathed, looking down at her feet instead of meeting her mother’s gaze. Lottie lingered there a moment, debating whether or not to push the subject. In the end, she just hugged Marlene tighter and smoothed out her hair.

“Okay. But you can always come talk to me whenever you need, okay?” Lottie kissed her daughter’s forehead and went to leave the room, turning in the doorway just before exiting. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, mum.”

As her mother left, Marlene crawled into bed, huddling deeply beneath the blankets and turning to face the wall, finally allowing her tears to fall.

****

Marlene awoke to a frantic knocking on her door. She shot up in bed, immediately reaching for her wand and pointing it towards the doorway. What if it was the Lestranges? What if they had followed Marlene and Sirius straight to her home? What if it were the Blacks themselves, here to take their runaway heir home and punish those who gave him sanctuary?

“Marls! Open the door, it’s Freddie!”

A feeling of relief as well as slight irritation flooded through her. Freddie was tolerable most of the time, but waking her up in the middle of the night was definitely not a way to get on Marlene’s good side.

“What do you want, Mercury?” She asked as she swung the door open. Freddie was standing there, his hands twisted together and his face painted with worry and fear that immediately caused Marlene’s sour attitude toward her brother to vanish. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s Sirius. He won’t stop shaking and, and I thought he was having a nightmare and so I went over to shake him awake and he…he freaked out! He screamed and pushed me away and now he’s huddled in the corner and he won’t stop crying and—”

Marlene pushed past her brother and moved down the hallway towards his bedroom. When she got there, the cot was flipped over and the blankets were in a tangled mess on the floor. Sirius was pressed against the wall, his knees tucked up against his chest and his hands pulling anxiously at his hair. He was muttering something Marlene couldn’t quite make out but whatever it was, he sounded utterly terrified. Marlene turned to Freddie who had followed closely behind her.

“Go get mom.”

Freddie nodded and raced away, seemingly grateful about being given a task. Marlene turned her attention back to Sirius. He hadn’t even noticed the two of them had come into the room, too lost in whatever memory he was reliving. Marlene had heard about this sort of behavior before, when her dad spoke of her grandfather and the effects the war had on him. The panicked breathing and dissociation that blinded a person to their realities were sure signs of post-traumatic stress, she was sure. She was also sure she that she was way out of her depth to properly break Sirius out of it, but she’d be dammed if she didn’t try.

“Sirius,” She spoke slowly, inching towards him before kneeling in front of him. He shook harder, his breath coming out in pants. Merlin, he was going to make himself pass out.

“Hey,” She grabbed his hand and he recoiled with a scream.

“No! No, please! Please don’t, it hurts.” He whimpered. Marlene felt sick and uncomfortable. This was not the Sirius Black she knew. This was a scared and hurt little boy that Marlene could not help.

“What is it?” Marlene turned. Her mother was standing in the doorway, her father and brother right behind her. She watched as Lottie’s eyes found Sirius and she motioned for Marlene to move away. Marlene obliged, standing, and watching her mother crouch down in her place.

“Sirius, sweetie? It’s Lottie. Marlene’s mom, remember?” He didn’t respond but Lottie didn’t seem deterred.

“Breathe with me, Sirius. I’m going to count and we are going to breathe.”

Marlene watched in awe as her mother calmly coaxed Sirius out of the horrific state he was trapped in. They breathed together, with Sirius attempting to match Lottie the more lucid he became. Eventually, Lottie took his hands in hers, rubbing small circles in his palms with the pads of her thumbs. She spoke softly to him, asking him questions about his surroundings and Sirius muttered back short responses. Slowly, he came back to himself. Marlene stood in the doorway, Freddie beside her still looking quite distressed and her father with an unreadable expression playing on his features.

“Marlene could you come sit here beside Sirius? I’m going to go whip up a potion for him to take. Freddie, Grant, why don’t you come help me? Give Sirius some space.”

Freddie nodded wordlessly and turned to head down the stairs followed by his father. As Marlene passed her mother, Lottie put a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t make him talk about it,” She whispered, “just listen if he does.”

Marlene nodded and Lottie gave her a sad smile before leaving the two teens alone. Sirius stared down at his lap, his eyes puffy with tears and his hair a tangly mess. He seemed embarrassed and shifted slightly when Marlene took a seat next to him. She didn’t blame him. She’d be pretty embarrassed too if her whole bravado façade fell apart in front of an audience. It was quiet between them, and Marlene struggled as she thought of something to say. She wanted to ask Sirius what had happened, what kind of nightmare he’d had to cause such a reaction, but she refrained. Still, she thought she could gather a well enough idea.

“I’m thinking of cutting some fringe.” She says instead, reaching up to toy with a strand of her hair. Sirius blinks, glancing toward her and then back at his toes. “I think it’d be a nice change, you know. Eleanor Tippets has fringe and it’s quite nice looking, don’t you think?”

“I’ve never thought about Eleanor Tippets.” Sirius responds. Progress, she thinks.

“Me neither. Not really. Just noticed her hair is all.” Marlene purses her lips. “James has some wild hair, doesn’t he? Does it naturally look like that or does he do it on purpose?”

A ghost of a smile traces Sirius’ lips and Marlene feels her muscles lose a bit of the tension she was unaware she had been holding.

“It’s naturally messy, though he does run his fingers through it often.”

“When he flirts with all the girls?”

“Well, just one girl, really. He still can’t get over Evans.”

Marlene tenses a bit but forces the conversation to continue. “Lily is nice.”

“So is James. She still hasn’t given him a chance.”

Sirius was right, Marlene supposed. James Potter wasn’t exactly the poster boy for good behavior, but he was nice enough. He always helped first years with their homework and encouraged the Gryffindor Quidditch team to win the games and have fun doing it. Lily had talked about James before, to Marlene and Alice, usually to complain about how annoying he was or about what elaborate date he asked her on that week. At the time, Marlene thrilled over the fact that Lily was not into James and perhaps she imagined it was for the same reasons Marlene wasn’t into boys. Now, though, as she looked back on it, she could remember the faint blush gracing her friend’s cheeks each time James smiled at her and the way her lips would twitch upwards just before she told him to get lost.

“My parents hate me.” Sirius said suddenly. Marlene felt her heart stop. Even if she expected it, it was different to hear the words falling so painfully out of Sirius’ mouth. She looked towards him, at the hunch of his shoulders and the pain in his eyes. It was painful to see Sirius this way. He should be jumping on the bed or ranting to Marlene about David Bowie. He shouldn’t be sitting in the corner with trembling hands and a fear of his family. It wasn’t right.

“They shouldn’t hate you.” Marlene knew it was a lame response, but she didn’t know what to say. She had never prepared for a conversation like this, let alone with Sirius Black.

Sirius scoffed. “Oh, I don’t know. I sometimes hate me.”

“Why?”

“We’re not close enough for this conversation, McKinnon.”

“Well, you’re the one who started it.”

Before Sirius could reply, Lottie had stepped back into the room, a cup held in her hand that presumably held the potion she had concocted. Sirius accepted it gratefully, attempting to put his mask of perfect manners back on, though his hands still shook as he drank. Lottie exchanged a look with Marlene, a frown on her face and pity in her eyes. Marlene looked away. She knew Sirius would hate to have any pity directed towards him so it felt wrong to accept such a look.

“You can stay in my room for the rest the night,” Marlene said, “I don’t want you to scare my brother awake with your screams again. He might just wet the bed.”

Lottie opened her mouth to scold Marlene, but Sirius just let out that barking laugh that Marlene had come to enjoy now that she had learned about Sirius’ animagus form. Her parents set the cot up in Marlene’s room quickly and said goodnight once more before shutting the bedroom door. Sirius stood awkwardly next to the cot, his hands clasped together in front of him. Marlene crawled underneath her own blankets, scooting as close to the wall as she could before patting the space next to her. Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“Are you inviting me into your bed, McKinnon?”

Marlene rolled her eyes. “Just for sleep, you dog.”

Sirius hesitated, but slid in beside her after a moment of consideration. He was careful not to touch her, whether that was to make her more comfortable or him, Marlene wasn’t sure. She turned on her side so that she was facing him. He stared resolutely at the ceiling, his hands on his chest and eyes wide open.

“You can relax you know. I don’t bite.”

“Biting might be fun.”

“Sirius—”

“I’m kidding!”

Marlene just shook her head. What a weird day, she thought as she closed her eyes and let her thoughts wander. Spending Christmas break with Sirius Black wasn’t something she had ever planned to do and now here he was, lying in her bed. Marlene wondered what Lily and Alice would say if she told them. She frowned as she thought of her friends. Would they still be her friends when she got back to Hogwarts? Or would they shy away from her, possibly even hate her. She couldn’t bear the sick feeling that washed over her at the idea of that.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Sirius asked. Marlene opened her eyes to see him gazing at her with an uncharacteristic look of empathy on his face. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m thinking about how much sleep you’re costing me.”

Sirius flushed slightly, but persisted, nonetheless. “Oh, come on. Your face was all scrunched up, there’s no way you were thinking of sleep. Enlighten me, McKinnon.”

“No.”

“Is it a boy?”

“No.”

“Good. Then I have no competition.”

“Trust me when I say this, Sirius. You are not my type.”

Sirius hesitated and then, “I’m sorry for messing up your holiday. I can leave tomorrow. Find my way to James’ house. He’s more equipped to deal with this mess.”

Marlene wanted to reassure Sirius that he was no bother, that she was happy to help, but she couldn’t. Because she probably wasn’t as equipped to deal with all of Sirius’ stuff, not compared to James who knew Sirius better than anyone. Marlene suddenly felt a sense of guilt overcome her. She and Sirius had always been friends at school, chatting in the common room on occasion and sitting next to each other in history of magic, but they were never close. She supposed it was because Sirius didn’t let people get too close, no one except for James, Remus, and Peter. Not that she was any better.

“We can write him in the morning if that would make you more comfortable.” She mumbled. Sirius nodded.

“That would probably be best.”

“Sirius,” Marlene hesitated. “Sirius, I don’t want to pry or anything but…what happened? Why did you run away?”

A dark look settled over Sirius’ face and Marlene almost recoiled. Whatever happened had been bad, probably worse than Marlene could imagine. She almost regretted asking the question and was about to tell him he didn’t have to answer when he spoke in a breath.

“They tried to kill me.”

Marlene’s blood ran cold. She didn’t want to believe it. She wanted Sirius to crack a teasing smile and claim that he was just being his usual dramatic self and that he was exaggerating the story and that his parents just had some old-fashioned ideas that got him in trouble when he didn’t agree with them. That she could handle. But this…god, she was going to be sick.

“Why?” Her voice sounded childish, laced with curiosity, and horrified awe.

“I…disagreed with them, as usual. But this time it was because of more personal beliefs.”

“Personal beliefs?”

“I told them I was gay.”

There was a stutter in Marlene’s heart, a sudden thrill that she wasn’t alone, such an excitement that she almost screamed “me too!” back at him. But she didn’t. Because right now was about Sirius, not her. Instead, she reached out and took Sirius’ hand. He flinched at the motion but Marlene did not let go. She could not let go, not now, not when she might be the only person who Sirius might be able to relate to, that he might be the only person who could understand her. She felt the need to cling to this, to remember this moment as Sirius told her this secret with raw vulnerability and tears in his eyes because not only was the world cruel to people like them but his own parents couldn’t see past their own prejudices to just love their son. Instead, they set out to hurt and even kill. Marlene could make this moment matter. She could make this moment a happy moment for him.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Sirius finally met her gaze, surprise evident on his face. She grinned back at him, her own eyes watering.

“I am so fucking proud of you, Sirius. For being strong enough and brave enough to stand up to your parents and be who you are. I really admire that and I am so happy that you shared it with me. Thank you.”

Sirius’ body seemed to lose all the tension he had been holding since bumping into Marlene earlier that day. God, had it only been a day? Marlene felt as though Sirius had been there for weeks, ready to burst at the seams at any moment. And this was that moment. He started crying in earnest, his body shaking and eyes becoming blinded with tears. Marlene inched forward, wrapping her arms around him, and holding him close. Her own face was wet with tears of joy and pain for her friend.

Eventually they fell asleep, wrapped tightly around each other. It was how Lottie found them in the morning.

#sirius black #marlene mckinnon #remus lupin #james potter #lily evans potter #wolfstar #jily #marauders #marauders era #sirius black angst #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #💭 by kat #romulusnuffles

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neapolitanadonna · 4 years ago

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Axis + Allies at W Academy (Human AU)

North Italy

Feliciano is the kid who shows up five minutes late everyday with an Frappuccino in his hand. He’s just very, very bad at time management, but he always looks well put together when he does show up. At this point, teachers have stopped assigning him detention because he’s just too good of a student to give detention to, even with his 55 tardies. He’s also the kid who will bring you food if he notices that you’re upset- he’s a firm believer that sugary drinks and carbs are good for the soul. His favorite classes are obviously the art classes- all of his electives are spent taking pottery, studio art, portfolio, painting, charcoal, and anything else the school offers. He may or may not be the art teachers favorite.

Germany

Ludwig is the straight-a student who sits in the back of your AP World History class and carries the entire class discussion when everyone else is too afraid to raise their hands to ask a question. He’s also the person who will take the heavy load of the work in the group project, and leave the easier tasks to everyone else. Despite being straight edge, if you ask him for the homework answers, he’ll send them without hesitation. He might tell you, “Ask me if you need help. Copying won’t help you learn anything,” but he always comes in on a clutch. Everyone wonders why he’s best friends with Feliciano, especially when the word “late” isn’t in Ludwig’s vocabulary. He does well in all his classes, but history and government classes are where he really shines.

Japan

Kiku is the quiet kid who’s also in your AP class who somehow has the highest grade in the class even though you’ve never heard him talk before. He gains a reputation for being cool and mysterious for a while, and a lot of people go to ask Feliciano about him, because they know Ludwig won’t talk about anybody else’s business. Turns out he isn’t really all that mysterious, he’s just shy, but also the biggest sweetheart you’ll ever meet. He does really well in literature classes, and hangs around the literature teachers more than students his actual age. Despite the fact that he keeps to himself, he’s nice to everyone he meets, and if you approach him in class first he won’t stop talking.

Prussia

Everyone knows Gilbert, for the better or worse. He’s the kid who just doesn’t shut up in your film study elective course. He’s always yelling, always posting to his snapchat story, always taking pictures, running around the lunchroom, and trying to make friends with the security guards. Everyone either loves Gilbert, or loves to hate him. At the end of the day, he’s really funny, some people can’t come to admit it, though. They wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He definitely won the class clown superlative, and lives up to it completely. If you’re lucky, you might get put on his snapchat private story, and its hard not to laugh at the things he does and says. Teachers will yell at him to be quiet in their classes, but deep down they’re holding back an unprofessional laugh. He doesn’t really have any particular class he excels in, he’s a jack of all trades, master of none.

South Italy

Lovino was the kid who was really, really emo in middle school but glew up sophomore year and now everyone thinks his post-edgy edginess is super attractive. He has a decent amount of friends, but he isn’t super popular. He doesn’t talk back to teachers, but he’ll tell of Gilbert sometimes, and because of his mouth he gets labelled as being funny, even if he wasn’t trying to be. He’s always really well put together- he’s a dress pants every day kind of guy. Like his brother, he’ll probably show up late with a drink in his hand, but instead of one of those “foofoo girly drinks”, he’s got straight up black coffee. He does well in history and government classes like Ludwig, which created a little bit of tension between the two. But unlike Ludwig, he does well because he’s just so damn opinionated. He was asked to be on the debate team, but he turned it down. Extra-curriculars aren’t his thing.

America

Alfred is that guy. Everyone knows who Alfred is, but not in the same way everyone knows Gilbert. Alfred is the captain of the varsity football team, has a new girlfriend every other two months, party at my place, red solo cup kind of guy. He’s mad he didn’t get the class clown superlative, but in reality he just isn’t as funny. He’s the kid whose really nice, as long as you play a varsity sport. He doesn’t really communicate much outside of his big clique, but he’s super well known. He’s the guy who will add you on snapchat just to make a new streak, but never actually talk to you. He wins prom king in his junior and senior year. He’s just the gym class hero, likes to show off how much he can dead lift and bench press. He gets along with male history teachers too, just because they’re usually football fans. (Alfred is really, really bad in history, though.)

England

Arthur is the class president who everyone loves to hate. He’s snotty, uptight, and won’t send you homework answers even if your life depended on it. He has an “I’m better and more successful than everyone in this place” type of energy, but deep down, he’s a huge geek. He’s friends with Lukas and Vladimir, so at first everyone just assumes that he’s super chill and laid back, then he opens his mouth and all of that goes away. Girls love to pick on him, Michelle (Seychelles) started a running joke where her and her friends will all call him Draco Malfoy when he’s around. In reality, he just doesn’t know how to socialize very well. He’s a nice guy deep down, just kinda broken and defensive, and very few can see that. He does well in every class, just beating out Ludwig as Valedictorian.

France

Francis is the leader of his little clique that’s full of guys who worship Lady Gaga, and girls who cuff their jeans and wear butterfly clips in their hair (if you know what I mean.) He’s very, very popular. He knows how to make people feel loved and important, and hypes everyone up in their Instagram comments. People will call him fake because he’s always just way too nice, but that’s just him. He’s the type of guy who will hit on anyone, even teachers, and he gets labelled as teachers pet for it (and he doesn’t deny it.) When him, Gilbert, and Antonio are in a class together, just get ready to know that it’ll be comedy central. He’s declared himself the sworn defender of underclassmen girls who get preyed on by upperclassmen boys. He does well in language classes, nobody knows it but he’s a little bit of a polyglot. He can speak English, French, German, Spanish, Italian, Arabic, and Creole. Take that!

Russia

Ivan is the guy all the girls have a low key crush on, but everyone’s too afraid to talk to him because they know he comes off as intimidating, so Ivan is left thinking that nobody likes him. That is, until somebody sends him a screenshot of somebody’s snapchat story where they call him “daddy,” and his whole attitude takes a 180. It isn’t his fault he looks scary, he’s taller and bigger than everyone, and gets mistaken as a teacher sometimes. He gets the nickname “Rasputin” from Alfred because he comes off as terrifying, but a lot of girls just love him. In reality he’s just kind of shy, not very scary at all. Sometimes girls will ask to put hair ties and clips in his hair, just because, and he always flushes up when they do. He plays hockey for the school, and completely annihilates everyone on ice. He’s just cool like that.

China

Yao is the kid in your statistics class who zones out all the time, only coming back to reality to make a snarky comment about the teacher under his breath for you to hear. He keeps to himself and his small group of friends, which is mainly just other eastern Asian kids he’s grown up with since middle school. He’s really active in civil rights, he cares a lot about his identity as a minority in the school, and would defend it viciously if need be. He does a lot of posting, talking, and writing about human rights, which is shocking since most people just assume he’s old fashioned based off the fact that he has so many old man mannerisms (ie. complaining about back pain and how he needs an acupuncture appointment asap.) Everyone calls him the grandpa friend, which is like a mom friend except he’ll give you hard candies he got at the Chinese Market instead of being your therapist when you’re upset. He does really well in government and business classes.

Spain

Antonio is everyone’s best friend. Unlike Francis and Gilbert, Antonio’s presence is very, very calming, and he’s often put in the position of apologizing for his friends behaviors. He’s the one who has to talk to the police if they get caught goofing around in a place they shouldn’t be, or if Gilbert was “accidentally” driving 75 mph in a 45. Teachers always love Antonio, not because he gets super high grades, he’s just so friendly. He’s the kid who invited kids sitting by themselves at lunch to sit with him, and not for his personal benefit. Even if you aren’t close with him, Antonio would always be there for you if you’re upset in school. It’s hard not to be cheered up by him. He’ll go out of his way to make anyone laugh or smile, even if he acts a little inappropriate in the process. He does really well in science classes, especially biology and environmental.

#hetalia #hetalia headcanons #hetalia imagines #hetalia scenarios #APH Italy #APH Germany #APH Japan #APH Prussia #aph romano #APH America #APH England #APH France #APH Russia #APH China #APH Spain

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ary-se · 4 years ago

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Mankai with a cat

a few months ago, our cat scratched me right on my cheek and my first thought out of all things was "what if mankai had a cat" pls get me out of this brainrot 😣

on a side note, this got way TOO LONG so i'm putting it under the cut!! this also works as an apology since i was gone for too long without notice 🙇‍♀️ as always, thank you for reading!

🐾 having a pet for the dorm was a subject mankai always brought up. it definitely sounds like a good idea for a domestic setting, but actually getting a pet is out of the question. sakyo didn't allow it due to obvious reasons, and of course it involved the company's budget.

🐾 there was one time however when muku and yuki went back to the dorms with a white stray cat that had a sprain. that time, sakyo would've given them a lecture like usual, but he gave in anyways and told them that they can foster the cat and they'll let it go after its leg gets better.

🐾 unfortunately for sakyo, everyone got way too attached to the cat before its sprain healed, and sakyo also adored the cat but of course he wouldn't openly admit that. after a week, when the cat got better, it only took a few buttons to push before sakyo agreed to finally keeping the cat, under the condition that they are not getting another pet again.

🐾 no one knew who started calling the cat koko, though it just seemed so natural that everybody else started to follow suit, which was pretty convenient because they didn't have to fight over the cat's name when mankai will finally keep her as a pet. (fun fact coco is the name of our cat)

🐾 that week, tenma deadass acted like an expecting father having his very first child, it was really unnerving to see. taichi and juza would often join tenma in shopping for random cat toys after school, which usually lasts longer than girls shopping for a singular pair of heels and that already says a lot

🐾 the conversation usually goes like this

tenma: "what's the best color for this toy mouse?"

taichi: "i like the red one!"

juza: "that's fine too."

tenma, after 10 minutes: "i see, i'll just buy all 7 colors"

🐾 tenma spoiled koko a LOT. teasers? balls? lasers? plushies? you name it, and tenma literally had them in ALL available colors. he did not really care if some of the toys remained untouched, as long as koko had something to be busy with. tenma had a huge ass box of cat toys that he could open up his own damn store and he'd get a lot of profit

🐾 tasuku literally had no idea why, but koko never scratched anywhere but his legs. is there some sort of magic on his legs?? if there was, it wasn't something tasuku is aware of, and he isn't sure if he wants to know what it is either.

🐾 it actually didn't hurt or anything, it just annoyed him when he needs to go somewhere else and the cat would just pounce to his direction to scratch his legs. tasuku feels bad on walking away, so all he does is stand up and wait until koko is done scratching his leg so he can finally move on.

🐾 when a scratching post was delivered to the dorm, koko has been all over it ever since. when tasuku noticed that koko never scratched on his legs anymore, it then just occurred to him that koko used his legs as a temporary scratching post. if he was being conpletely honest, he doesn't know how to feel about this.

🐾 know the meme of people making their babies choose their pokemon starter? that's what itaru did to koko, except he used the figurines of his waifus instead of pokemon plushies. he'd carry koko to the table, and the figurine koko will knock over would determine who her best girl supposedly is.

🐾 what he didn't know was that koko wouldn't knock one figurine over, but ALL FIVE OF THEM, and they all went rolling from the table and fell down to the floor. he swore that one of the figurines easily gets broken since its glasses came off at some point, and until that moment his trust towards animals has never been tested so bad. gladly, none of the figurines broke so koko is not yet in itaru's hit list.

🐾 even with all the toys tenma showered her with, koko finds itaru's hair on a ponytail very entertaining. itaru doesn't really mind koko messing with his hair as long as his gaming stays uninterrupted, though he gets annoyed when koko pulls a part of his hair too hard. he also somehow gets pissed whenever his hairtie falls off during a crucial moment, but he doesn't have the heart to get mad at koko so he lets her off the hook for so many times.

🐾 if omi is already such a mom to mankai, he is even more of a mom to koko. there is a sack of cat kibbles stored away for weeks, but it still remains untouched up to this day because omi always whip up homemade meals for her.

🐾 there was a time when omi cooked up turkey, mashed potatoes and corn for koko's dinner, but he didn't prepare anything for the actual human beings in mankai. omi was just like, "oh haha, there is leftover curry in the fridge. we probably should finish that first"

🐾 in other words, koko isn't subjected to curry hell. never. cats actually aren't supposed to eat curry or else something would happen. even if cats were allowed to eat curry though, it is highly doubtful that omi will make koko eat curry on a daily basis. if omi is an actual mom, everyone would collectively agree that the favorite child is koko. no buts, no questions asked, that's it.

🐾 it was a given that cats don't like water, so everyone was really surprised when they learned that koko LOVES water. the first time they learned it was when sakuya went to wash the dishes like usual, only for koko to literally pounce by the sink. she waits for sakuya to turn on the faucet and everytime sakuya does, she just sticks her paw out to the water until he turns it off. it was an adorable sight.

🐾 it definitely made sakuya slower on washing the dishes, but he does not really mind one bit, he actually enjoys the company. he opted to use a bit more dishwashing soap after he noticed that koko also liked to play with the excessive foam and bubbles on the sink whenever he finishes doing the dishes.

🐾 everyone in mankai, especially sakuya, already made it a habit to call out to koko whenever they're about to do the dishes so koko wouldn't have to wait for the sound of the faucet before running to the sink. it already is a routine every after mealtime.

🐾 was it already mentioned that koko likes water? yes. whenever the boys get in the bath, koko also joins in the damn tub and REFUSES to leave. after some time, the boys already accepted it and just let the cat stay in the tub, losing their sense of privacy in the process. they also bought little rubber duckies and those bubble bath products so koko can play around with the excessive amount of bubbles and the rubber duckies in the tub.

🐾 there was one time when omi woke up super early to prepare breakfast, though he went to the bathroom first and nearly shit on his pants when he saw koko in the empty tub. no koko, he isn't going to fill the tub with water if you just stay there. get out of there and sleep in your own damn bed.

🐾 koko also follows anyone who is on their way to the bathroom, ALWAYS assuming that they'll fill up the tub every time they do get in the bathroom. sorry to break this to you koko, but taichi wouldn't get in the bathroom 8 times a day to take a bath every single time, he just really wants to pee... please give him a break

🐾 koko always joins tsumugi when he is in the garden, though it was only because she wants to drink on the water coming out of tsumugi's watering can. when there are water droplets on the leaves, she climbs up and licks them off. unfortunately, it is one of the reasons why tsumugi started to yell on a daily basis, "KOKO NO THAT PLANT IS POISONOUS DON'T LICK THAT—"

🐾 tsumugi wouldn't have to warn koko forever though, since she'd eventually memorize what plants are poisonous and what are not. sometimes, after tsumugi is done watering the plants, he'd fill the watering can with water again just so koko would get in the can and chill for who knows how long.

🐾 koko is attached to muku for obvious reasons (he picked her up when she was injured!!) so koko is often in their shared room with kazunari. sadly, there was a time when muku took a break from reading the shoujo manga to grab some water, and when he got back, koko was already tearing it into pieces.

🐾 muku did not get angry at koko, but the cat knew something was wrong when muku was trying to stop himself from crying that koko already knew not to tear any of muku's books in the future. koko still felt really bad about it even after muku bought a new copy of that specific volume.

🐾 whenever kazunari is rushing an art project that is to be passed the next day, muku holds koko close to him so koko wouldn't be able to somehow ruin the painting. there has already been an instance wherein koko stepped all over the painting when muku and kazunari wasn't in the room, and that better not happen ever again.

🐾 gladly, kazunari was calm about it and found a way to fix the blue pawprints all over the white paint, but only god knows what will happen once koko messes up the painting again when kazunari is getting SO close to breaking down because of the deadline.

🐾 there are times when kazunari prefers to eat bread with charcoal and drink his paint water than having koko step all over his artwork, and muku better make sure kazunari does none of that

🐾 banri is unfortunately one of those people who pretends to be a dick around their pets. more often than he would admit, he'd act like he is about to throw a punch to koko, only to actually give it gentle pats on the head. banri throwing the cat mid-air and catching her is already a common sight, too.

🐾 he finds it funny scaring koko in all sorts of ways, especially when it comes to heights. banri would carry koko up high, and pretend to drop her just to catch the cat again. sakyo has reprimanded him a lot of times regarding this situation, but he brushes it off.

🐾 there was one time however when banri just carries koko up high and stays that way. the cat was literally scared shitless of being high up on mid-air unmoving, she literally had no choice but to piss right on banri's face. ever since that time, banri toned down his tendencies of teasing the cat

🐾 koko ALWAYS sleeps with hisoka. it doesn't matter where, will it on top of the sink? on the tree? below the table of the living room? you name it, and you see koko and hisoka stuck to each other like glue. somehow it feels like koko became a replacement of penpen. the poor stuffed toy probably got messed up by the cat, waiting to finally get fixed in yuki's room

🐾 koko got hisoka's habit of sleeping literally everywhere that it became really concerning. there was a time when tsuzuru noticed that koko was nowhere to be found, and everyone went batshit looking at her all over the city. even sakyo got mad at everyone because they weren't keeping an eye out of the cat while everybody else is gone. after how many hours of searching, turns out the cat was just sleeping inside the fucking washing machine

🐾 funny enough, taichi and koko have the SAME eyes. like, actual striking blue. taichi usually carries her and parades around the dorm, announcing the news to everyone even though he has said it for like the 83rd time that day. nobody really minds though, the coincidence is still too unreal. the quote "like pet, like owner" doesn't really apply to koko and taichi though, because if anything, it feels more like comparing a cat to a puppy

🐾 taichi is also the one who plays with koko the most, which solely meant that he also used the cat toys tenma bought as much as the cat herself did. at this point, it wouldn't be wrong if they said that the toys were bought for BOTH koko and taichi because even taichi sometimes finds entertainment in using the teaser by himself whenever the cat is being held by somebody else.

🐾 as much as yuki refuses to admit it, he actually gets concerned when koko climbs up in all sorts of countertops, because that would mean koko would also NOT hesitate to climb up to his sewing machine. he is already meticulous when it comes to his materials for sewing, but even moreso now.

🐾 every after yuki finishes sewing, he tightly encloses the sewing machine with a case so that the cat wouldn't get to touch it and potentially get hurt. yuki also used to just leave his sewing materials on the desk, but nowadays he actually keeps them into somewhere secure so as to not harm anybody. he can't have koko's paws bleeding just because of some damn pin that rolled on the floor

🐾 yuki also somehow feels bad when he drives the cat away from him by force every time he is working on the costumes for the next play. he doesn't know what the cat is thinking, but he hopes that koko knows he is just trying not to actually make her bleed over some needles. as a repayment, yuki lets koko bother him all she wants whenever he does his homework with muku.

🐾 since masumi always used to be alone at home, he always thought of the possibility of adopting a pet cat that would keep him company. that constant thought he had already dissipated when he started living in the mankai dorm, so when they decided to take koko in, he remembered the specific reasons why he wanted to own a cat.

🐾 he never let anyone willingly in his personal bubble except for the cat, which he accepted pretty easily. masumi also found it kind of amusing to blast songs on shuffle from his phone because koko had her own way of showing if she likes the song or not. if she likes it, she doesn't do anything. if koko doesn't, she taps her paw on his phone a lot of times as if telling him to change the song. most of the time, masumi obliges.

🐾 every time tsuzuru opens the fridge really late at night, he has to double check if koko is inside the fridge or not before he closes it. there was one time when he didn't notice koko get in the fridge while getting energy drinks. the cat pretty much stayed in there for hours and hours until omi opened the fridge to make breakfast. tsuzuru was lectured by sakyo that morning because he would be ultimately responsible if the cat died in the fridge from freezing her ass off

🐾 whenever tsuzuru gets in a writing frenzy, koko keeps him company late at night. unfortunately for tsuzuru, if he stops typing for at least 10 seconds, koko takes that as a sign to pounce on his keyboard and just lay down there. tsuzuru already knew better than to carry her away from his keyboard since the cat will be insistent enough to return to his keyboard, so he usually gives up and goes to bed, saving the ideas in his head for the next time he wakes up.

🐾 because of that, every time tsuzuru finishes a script for the next play, his tendencies of passing out right after handing the script to somebody else significantly lessens. tsuzuru doesn't know if the cat is just trying to be annoying or if she just wants him to get some sleep, but either way he doesn't really mind because he gets to stop himself from overworking. well sorta

🐾 juza almost never approaches koko. like never. it feels like he is openly avoiding the cat for some apparent reason, and nobody knows why, but in reality he is just scared as shit of the damn cat. what if koko gets mad at him? what if she suddenly gets aggressive and scratches him? honey you're way bigger than her, and koko wouldn't hurt you... really it's okay

🐾 juza's way of offering affection to the cat is to give her some portions of his meal during dinner, sometimes breakfast. he tries to be sneaky about it, but he legitimately has no idea that everyone knows. it becomes more obvious when koko already made it a habit to sit on the chair behind juza every meal time to get more food. that still happens even after omi just filled up her fucking bowl. nobody comments about it though, they find it hilarious

🐾 koko always tries to test homare's patience, but for some reason homare literally doesn't give a single fuck. every time he is writing something down, high chances are koko would spread the ink all over his paper. sometimes she'd try to crawl her way in his coat sleeve, and homare, he just....... doesn't mind.

🐾 if homare is actually busy however, he'd take out his necktie from his vest if koko doesn't want to leave his lap. most of the time, she actually plays with it like it's a teaser. homare is fine if the necktie gets destroyed, he has a lot of neckties in his closet and some of them are specifically for the purpose of koko messing with them

🐾 not to mention that he also finds it really amusing that koko gets overly excited when it comes to lasers. homare is curious why this would be the case, so he usually uses the laser to play with koko when he has free time. he doesn't think of where he points the laser though, so his wooden desk ends up having a lot of scratches. again, he knows and he doesn't care in the slightest.

🐾 misumi adores koko so much. her ears are triangles, her paws are triangle, her nose is triangle. she is a fucking triangle. with the help of kazunari, he already has a whole album of koko's best pictures in polaroid films. most of them are in a photo book so that everyone has a physical copy to look at, while some of them are taped on misumi's wall. the ones on misumi's room are particularly the ones where her ears are especially prominent.

🐾 at least twice or thrice a week, misumi brings koko out of the dorm and brings her to other groups of stray cats that misumi deems trustworthy. nothing bad happens to koko gladly, because only god knows what would happen once misumi's instincts tell him something horrible is about to happen to their pet cat, and they're always spot on

🐾 citron has ZERO sense of personal space when it comes to koko. citron would literally touch koko anywhere, thinking she is fine with it. unfortunately, there are times when citron pets koko on parts she doesn't want to be touched, particularly the tail and the area around it. citron's hands always end up covered in scratches. over time, he memorized where he should and shouldn't touch like the back of his hand

🐾 citron made a koko jr. which was completely intended to be for display purposes. the cat saw it as a new mouse toy however, so it didn't take a whole day for koko jr. to look like a ball of messed up wool. it doesn't look like a damn cat anymore, though it passes as an extremely fluffy and distorted alpaca

🐾 sakyo never shows affection to the cat. no pets, no strokes, nothing. the most he does to koko is spare her a glance, and sometimes he even glares at her from a distance when sakyo gets too absorbed in his thoughts... despite that, everyone wonders why every time sakyo comes home, she gets more energetic greeting him compared to how she'd greet the rest of the boys when they come back to the dorm

🐾 azuma knows. he would sometimes stay up for late night talks with sakyo, and through their conversations that's when azuma learns how much sakyo cares. azuma often helps sakyo out on trimming koko's nails when they're getting kind of long, trying to be as careful as possible so as to not hurt her.

🐾 azuma is also amused at the fact that sakyo tries to ignore koko resting on his lap, or when he pretends not to notice the cat trying to slip in the pockets of his coat. knowing sakyo, he'll definitely complain about the white fur on his black coat later on. as funny as it is, azuma knows better than to say a word about it.

🐾 before kazunari realized it, his camera roll is pretty much filled with random pictures of koko. most of them are just derp pictures, though... kazunari captures her weird quirks, like how she likes to fall asleep with all fours spread out like a starfish, or how she constantly make noises on the door stopper if she wants to get in the room. the picture with koko's most horrified face on it was when banri threw her high up mid-air, and that is never going to get deleted.

🐾 they find everything the cat does very adorable, even though she is just drinking water from her bowl. or when her tongue gets stuck on the ice tray omi brought out from the fridge. or when she yawns and taichi sticks a finger in her mouth and she doesn't know what to do next. or when she squints her eyes at homare when he gets in a blabbering rampage. literally everything.

🐾 at some point, kazunari thought it'd be a good idea to have those cat tunnels mounted on walls so there will be more room for koko to play. he just said it out of nowhere, but everyone agreed on that idea. after a week or two, the whole dorm is basically a cat playground with a crapton of shelves, slides, and tunnels on the walls, save for the practice room, bathroom, and the bedrooms.

🐾 did sakyo said that they are never, ever getting another pet after koko? yeah right, there's no way that's actually happening. high chances are they got more cats so that the cat playground they all built together will get utilized. the more, the merrier!! even though sakyo complains a lot about the expenses, they all know he isn't against the idea, though they better not tease him for it or sakyo will definitely take it back

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ggukcangetit · 4 years ago

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Dreamcatchers 6

Pairing: jungkook x oc

Summary: DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.

Genre/AU: fluff/action/mystery | detective! au | police!jungkook, police!oc

Word Count: 5.2k

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol, blood, drugs, death. basically stuff you’d associate with a murder mystery/crime drama.

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

A/N: it’s been a while since i posted and even longer since i updated this fic but its still here and so am i! lol. updates are not gonna be very frequent but i have a list of works in progress that i plan to finish so there will be something or the other being posted at the most random moments.

also, reminding everyone that this story features a named oc because i’m still very unfamiliar with writing second person reader inserts. i’m not aiming for strict accuracy in this story, and all criminal investigation/forensics knowledge i have has been gathered by watching crime drama/procedural dramas! my knowledge of geography is also not totally accurate so apologies for that. once again, one thing right by @hobios prompted me to write a police inspector! jungkook story. would highly recommend reading that because it’s probably one of my most favorite pieces of writing!

21st December

"Is this how you conduct a sample analysis?! Where did you even train? I've half a mind to report you and get you kicked out!!"

Yuri stopped at her desk, surprised to hear Seulgi's yelling so loudly that she could be heard all the way from the floor above. She was usually extremely calm and even-tempered, but the past couple of days had seen her irritable, snappy, and downright furious.

"Dr. Ahn sounds really angry," whispered Jisoo, clutching a file close to her chest. "I've never heard her yell at anybody before. I hope she's okay."

"I'm sure everything's fine," said Jeon, walking over to his desk and dropping a bunch of files on it. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Yuri raised an eyebrow at him, but complied nonetheless. They walked outside, standing near a clump of trees outside of earshot of anyone in the station.

"Guess who I've just brought in on suspicion of murder for the 2nd Nov case?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"No!" gasped Yuri. "Minhyuk?"

"Yep. He's been in the country for a while now. Fancy giving me a hand with the interview?"

"Me? I mean," she bit her lip. "I wasn't part of the original investigation."

"I know, but in light of what you've found out and the fact that you're now my partner, Goh thinks it's okay."

"You told Goh?!"

"I had to. I can't restart the investigation without his permission."

Jeon stared at her for a few moments, trying to gauge her reaction. "So, what do you say?"

"Alright. Let's nail this bastard."

Ahreum was late. She had a meeting with one of her professors to decide on which medical stream she'd specialize in. Despite using forensics as an excuse to distract Seulgi, she was seriously considering it now. Deciding to pursue medicine had been a drastic career switch for Ahreum, and a lot of people had questioned her decision relentlessly. But if there was something she had learnt in the years following her parents' divorce, it was patience and the ability to block out irrelevant conversations. Namjoon had always been immersed in his studies, barely affected by the bitterness existing between their parents. Ahreum, barely in high school, felt lost and helpless during those times. After the divorce, things had become less tumultuous and she was able to see her parents as individual entities. That was when she realized that her father was never going to like any of her decisions, no matter how hard she tried to please him, and her mother preferred to stay aloof at the best of times. Ahreum learnt pretty early in life, that she needed to be there for herself. She loved her brother and parents, though the latter a lot less than the former. Her decision to study English Literature and Creative Writing had been a spur of the moment one - dictated more by the fact that her high school boyfriend was going to study at a major Arts university. She didn't really regret any of her decisions. Her degree had led her to finding a hobby she adored - photography. And having a freelance job meant that she could stay with Namjoon - who earned a significantly larger amount than her - and move whenever he needed to move as well. This was also how she had met Taehyung 3 years ago - a happy coincidence of events when she had been taking pictures outside the museum at Seoul. They had started talking about art and photography, eventually realizing that they lived in the same part of the city. In addition to Yuri, she also considered Taehyung to be her best friend. She had seen him during one of his lowest moments when Seokjin had left home; and then some time later when he had found Seokjin living in the town Ahreum and Namjoon had recently shifted to, she had stayed by him as he grappled with his anger and frustration towards his older brother until an eventual reconciliation.

But at this moment, she was beginning to lose patience with him. Five minutes before she was about to leave for her meeting, she received a bunch of frantic texts from him.

8.25 am

T: ahreum?? are u up??

T: jimins still in custody

T: im so worried

8.26 am

T: u there?

T: i want to visit him...

T: will u come with me?

8.27 am

T: hey

T: ???

T: i didnt sleep much so i dont wanna drive there

8.28 am

T: are u sleeping?

T: ???

He knew she had a meeting today. He knew how important the meeting was for her. She had spoken about it many times. Not for the first time, Ahreum wondered whether Taehyung cared about her beyond what directly concerned him. If it wasn't somehow relevant to him, he never seemed to remember much. It was a careless apathy that had hurt her during the beginning of their friendship, but she had accepted it as a part of him.

Her meeting was at 9 am and she usually needed 20 minutes to get there on her bike. She closed her eyes and mentally rehearsed the points she was going to bring up during her meeting. Her phone pinged once more, breaking her concentration.

8.30 am

T: hey

T: can u pick me up?

She frowned and shot a quick text before pocketing her phone and strapping on her helmet.

A: sorry have a meeting... talk later

As Ahreum sped through the narrow lanes, she was convinced that there was no way she was going to talk to Taehyung today. He would have to manage on his own for once.

Yuri and Jeon sat across from a very nervous Park Minhyuk, his bloodshot eyes indicating that he had been brought in after a rough night.

"Good morning." Jeon began the interview, his notes stacked neatly in front of him. "You were very hard to get a hold of, Mr. Park. Specifically because your company categorically states that you've been out of the country for business."

"I-" His face was white as a sheet.

"When we called your office, we were told that you are often out of the country on business trips. Short trips," Jeon flipped through his notes. "A fortnight, 20 days at max. Your secretary was very obliging - he told us that you traveled on October 12th and returned on October 27th. Then left the country again on November 1st and returned on November 16th. Another trip between November 22nd and December 6th. And finally, one more on December 10th from which you still haven't returned."

"Your phone records are very interesting, Mr. Park," said Yuri, joining in. "I'm DI Choi, by the way, and I will be assisting DI Jeon as his partner on the case. Now -" she opened the file in front of her and took out a particular page - "is this your cell phone number?"

"Yes, but-"

"Our Telecomms division looked over recent activity over the last 3-4 months. While your office confirms that you have been on multiple trips out of the country from October onwards, your phone has been operating in Korea for almost two months. Can you tell us why?"

Minhyuk remained silent, his hands clenched on the table.

"Do you recognize this?" Yuri placed a plastic bag on the table and moved it towards him.

The remaining color drained from Minhyuk's face as he stared at the ring inside the plastic bag.

"Let me help you out, Mr. Park," she continued. "This is an heirloom from your mother's side of the family. There was three such rings - one buried with your mother, one on your brother's finger, and one found at the scene of Son Eunbi's murder. Can you tell us how your ring found its way to a murder scene?"

"I didn't kill her!" Minhyuk looked like he was going to pass out. Jeon poured some water into a glass and passed it to him.

"She was dead when I got there!" he said after gulping down the water. His hands were shaking by this point.

"If she was dead when you got there, why didn't you call the police?"

"I..."

Faced with a possible murder charge, Minhyuk looked frightened but not nearly as forthcoming with an alibi as one would have hoped.

"Mr. Park," Yuri spoke after a period of silence. "Did you know that Ms. Son had a three year old daughter named Gina?"

Minhyuk gulped, his eyes breaking contact with hers. He removed his hands from where they had been clenched on the table, choosing to hide them in his lap.

"Are you Gina's father?" she continued. Minhyuk head shot up at her question.

"H-how did-"

"When did you find out?" she asked.

Minhyuk sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I guess there's no point in denying it since you know everything." He reached out and finished the remaining water in the glass. "In October, after I came back from a trip, I happened to meet her by chance and Gina was with her. It was odd, the way that she tried to avoid talking to me. And the fact that Gina also had clear grey eyes."

For the first time since the interview started, Yuri realised the resemblance between the Park brothers was limited but striking. Their eyes were the exact same shade of grey - while Jimin looked cold and unwelcoming, Minhyuk's glasses did well to give him a warmer appearance.

"I asked her why she hadn't contacted me when she got pregnant. Or in the three years since Gina was born."

"What did she say?" asked Yuri, softly.

"She was scared that I wouldn't believe her." Tears had started to roll down his cheeks. "I loved her... so much. And then she just disappeared one day. I tried so hard to find her but..."

Jeon poured another glass of water for him.

"I told her how happy I was to hear about Gina. That I wanted us to be a proper family. I was willing to do whatever was necessary if that's what she wanted as well. I think she was beginning to warm up to the idea. I even told my father to postpone my next trip so that I could spend a little more time with both of them. But-"

"But?"

Minhyuk stared at his hands, looking tired and dejected. "He - uh, he wasn't happy when he heard about Gina. My father has very particular expectations."

"What did he say to you? Did he threaten you, Mr. Park?"

Minhyuk let out a soft chuckle. "My father doesn't threaten. He suggests."

"And what did he suggest you do about Gina and Eunbi?" asked Jeon.

"That I stay away from them. For the sake of my inheritance."

"And did you?"

"I was planning to... I-I was meant to travel the next day and I thought I would go and see her once more before I left. But when I got there..."

Minhyuk covered his face with his hands, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself.

"What happened when you got there, Mr. Park?"

"She was lying there... in a pool of blood. Gina was asleep in the back. I-I didn't kill her. You have to believe me."

Yuri and Jeon exchanged a quick look as Minhyuk protested his innocence. They were aware that the homeless man had killed Son Eunbi. The DNA found at the crime scene confirmed the fact that he had stabbed her. But they needed Minhyuk to give them as much information as possible.

"I'm afraid we do not conduct our investigations based on belief, Mr. Park," continued Yuri, shuffling her notes meaningfully. "You still haven't provided us with an alibi for that night. Strange thing - the Park family seem to have a particular aversion towards providing alibis. Your brother was also extremely resistant when we spoke to him."

"You spoke to Jimin? What for?" Minhyuk's expression had changed completely. He looked strangely alert.

"I guess you aren't aware that Jimin was arrested for the murder of Kang Eunwoo on December 15th." Jeon spoke deliberately, hoping to elicit a reaction. And he was successful.

"What?! That's impossible! There's no way he could've done that!"

"Why are you so certain of that?"

"Because he was with me on December 15th!"

"I'm sorry but we can't take you at your word. You can't even provide a proper alibi for yourself on the night of Son Eunbi's murder. How can we be sure that the two of you aren't just covering up for each other?"

It was then that Minhyuk realised that he would need to come clean. There was no way to save Jimin without telling them the entire story.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll tell you everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes. If it can help Jimin, I'm willing to risk my father finding out."

Yuri glanced at Jeon who gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

"Go on."

"After I saw Eunbi... lying there, I couldn't leave Gina. No matter what my father had said, I couldn't leave my daughter in such a situation. So I... took her away with me."

"Where is Gina now, Mr. Park?" Yuri asked, frowning.

"She's safe."

"Where is she?" asked Jeon, sharply.

"In Busan. I have an apartment there and she's been with me since that day."

"Why didn't you tell the police that you had her? Why does your company believe that you are abroad on a business trip?"

Minhyuk rubbed his eyes tiredly and drank some more water. "I couldn't let my father find out. Jimin and I have an apartment in Busan that we bought under a different name. It was a place our father couldn't find us. Gina's been staying there with me since 2nd November."

"Are you sure your father thinks you're abroad? It doesn't seem like something easy to cover up."

"Jimin helped with that," said Minhyuk, leaning back into the cold metal chair. "He told father that I had run away because he hadn't been understanding of my situation with Gina and Eunbi. Jimin's good at convincing people - it's a talent he's barely ever put to good use."

"So Jimin knew that you were hiding in a secret apartment with your recently discovered daughter?"

"Yes, he did. I have an alibi for 2nd November. I was in a meeting till 9 pm and then stopped for drinks at a nearby fried chicken place till 11 pm. I was a bit tipsy after that, which is why I decided to visit Eunbi and Gina. After taking Gina away from there, I went to Jimin's place, got the keys to the apartment and drove straight there. I think I reached around 2 am."

Yuri jotted down all this information, making a note to check on every new detail that had been mentioned.

"What about December 15th? You said Jimin was with you. Why?" asked Jeon, folding his arms across his chest.

"We meet once a week to make sure everything is going okay," said Minhyuk, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Sundays are usually the best days for that."

"Where did you meet?"

"At the local ice-cream shop," Minhyuk frowned, trying to remember something. "You know the one near the end of town?"

"The Dairy Berry? Yes, I know which one you're talking about." Jeon gave Yuri a brief nod to confirm that this was a legitimate spot and not something Minhyuk was making up on the spot.

"Gina loves sweet things and I thought it would be easier to take her with me the same day I met Jimin. I think we were there till 10 pm. After that, I dropped Jimin at a bar and drove back home."

"Which bar was this?" asked Yuri.

"Sunset."

"And you drove straight home after that?"

"You can check the dash cam on my car and the security tapes at my apartment building, if you want."

"We definitely will, Mr. Park," said Jeon, surveying him carefully. "In the meantime, you will be in custody until we have verified each and every single thing you just told us. So I suggest you keep yourself hydrated."

Yuri could feel a pair of eyes on her as she spoke to Jisoo and Suho.

"We need to verify everything that Park Minhyuk told us. But there's a lot of ground to cover and we've lost quite a bit of time since the murder of Son Eunbi. So I suggest you recruit some uniformed officers as well." Jisoo jotted down the locations and the times they needed to verify, and nodded to Suho to indicate she had forwarded the details to him. "We need to get the information as soon as possible."

"Will do," said Suho, giving her a reassuring nod.

Yuri waited for them to leave before walking over to the person who had been watching her for a while.

"Did you want to talk about something?" she asked Seulgi.

"I-" Seulgi tugged at her sleek, high ponytail, looking oddly hesitant. She seemed in a better mood than earlier in the morning when she had almost scared one of the interns into leaving the country. "Do you have a minute?"

"Yeah- " Yuri checked the clock on her phone - "just a minute though. I'm waiting for Jeon to get a warrant from Goh."

"Did he-? I mean, Jimin, uh... have you...? You know-" It was strange to see her grappling for words. "Are you certain he's done it?"

Yuri stared at her for a second. This wasn't what she had been expecting Seulgi to talk about. The doctor's relationship with Jimin was even more puzzling than she had originally perceived it.

"We're looking into it right now." She paused, trying to gauge Seulgi's reaction. "But you already know about the blood sample match - that, in itself, is pretty damaging."

"Y-yeah, I know."

Before Yuri could say anything more, Jeon came out of the Chief Inspector's office. "We've got a warrant to search Minhyuk's apartment. Let's go."

Glancing one more time at Seulgi's ashen face, Yuri put on her coat and scarf and followed Jeon out the exit.

Once inside Jeon's car, Yuri debated whether or not she should attempt to engage him in conversation. Her decision was made for her when he drove onto the main road, and lowered the volume of the police scanner.

"What was Seulgi saying?" he asked, his eyes focused on the road.

"Just where we were in the investigation."

"I see."

Yuri fiddled with the button on her coat, itching to say more.

"What's the deal with her and Jimin?" she finally asked.

"I- what do you mean?" Jeon raised his eyebrow and gave her the most puzzled expression he could muster while trying to stay focused on the crazy traffic.

"Their relationship is... weird. He keeps flirting with her, and she is on the verge of ripping his guts out at every given moment. But just now, she seemed almost worried about him."

"I don't really know... they've never really seen eye-to-eye on much." Jeon checked the rear view mirror to make sure he was clear before deftly changing lanes. "Jimin has always been the person who tries his utmost to push everyone's buttons. And Seulgi... well, she has a lot of buttons."

Yuri snorted loudly. "That tells me nothing and everything at the same time. You really have a way with words, Jeon."

He smirked at this, his eyes never leaving the road. "So does that mean you trust me now?"

"No." She looked at him and caught the way his face fell slightly at her response. "But who knows what the future holds..."

The smirk was back.

Ahreum had a terrible headache. She usually didn't get many headaches. So on the rare occasion that she did, it put her in a really terrible mood. The only person who knew how to handle this situation properly was Namjoon. He knew that she needed silence, dim lighting, green tea, fresh bread, and absolutely no unexpected company.

So when Ahreum got home after her grueling 3 hour long meeting, hoping to relax and recuperate, she wasn't too pleased to find Taehyung sitting in her living room, playing a very loud game on his tablet.

"You're back!" he yelled, once she slammed the door to make her presence felt. "I've been waiting for hours. How was your meeting?"

"'S okay," she replied, shortly. Taking off her coat, she opened the middle cabinet in the kitchen and searched for the green tea.

"Great! So do you wanna go and visit Jimin now?"

"No."

"What? Why not? You don't have anything else to do right now. Just come with me. Please!" He had walked into the kitchen and was standing in front of her with a pout on his lips.

As endearing as she always found his antics, Ahreum was at breaking point. She placed the cup on the counter with a loud clink, and turned to face him.

"Because I don't have time to follow you on your every whim, Taehyung. Because I have a life of my own. Because I am studying medicine, which, if you aren't aware, is a very taxing occupation." She paused for a breath, as his mouth fell open in shock. "Because I am not your babysitter. Or your handler. Or your caretaker. And I'm tired of being responsible for you. You're a grown ass adult and it's about time you acted like one."

"Ahreum, I'm-" His eyes were wide and worried, and she felt a tiny sliver of remorse. "I don't think you're my babysitter or handler or whatever. You're my best friend."

"I thought so too. In fact," she said, looking away from him. "I thought we were, or we could be, more."

"W-what? Ahreum?" Taehyung sounded so lost and confused that she was tempted to console him.

She walked to the front door and held it open for him. "I think you should leave now. I'm tired, I have a headache, and I don't want to be around anyone right now."

"Wait! What did you mean by that?" he asked, hesitantly standing at the entrance.

"I'm tired, Taehyung. I don't have the energy to explain everything to you. Now, please," she began closing the door slowly. "I want to rest."

"It's clear!" The uniformed officer confirmed to them, before opening the door further.

"Okay, let's see whether little Gina is here," instructed Jeon, his face drawn into a frown.

Yuri nodded and walked into the room on the left of the large living area. It was a study of sorts, with a large wooden desk, a swiveling chair, and shelves upon shelves of books. She quickly checked to see if there was anyone in the room before shouting "clear!". There was another door connecting to a smaller room, it's walls bathed in bright sunlight and smelling of soft lavender. This was clearly some sort of guest room, judging by the inconsistent decor theme. The furniture looked sleek and modern, but the sheets on the bed were soft and pastel colored. A bunch of soft toys stood leaning against the flat screen tv, and Yuri realised that this was probably the room that had been hastily fixed up for a small child's unexpected stay. And sure enough, soft strands of brown hair peaked through the large covers on the bed.

She walked over to the bed slowly, not wanting to startle the child. Yuri barely managed to stifle a gasp as she looked into the child's clear grey eyes - the same color as both Park Minhyuk and Park Jimin.

"Hello," she said, softly. "Are you Gina?"

The little girl nodded, bringing the covers closer towards her.

"I'm a police officer. I help catch bad people." She didn't respond, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Do you want to go to your dad, Gina?" She nodded vigorously, sitting up at the mention of her father. "Okay, we will. But first, tell me, are you okay? Do you feel pain anywhere?"

The little girl shook her head.

"Are you sleepy?"

Again, she shook her head.

"Are you hungry?"

Slowly, she nodded her head.

"Okay, we'll go and see your dad, and also get you something to eat. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful."

It was just after 2 pm and Yuri felt completely drained. After they had found Gina, she had insisted on returning to the station to ask Jimin about his alibi for the night of Kang Eunwoo's murder. From what she had understood, he had refused to provide an alibi to protect his brother and keep him out of the police's radar until the situation with Gina worked out. Even though she still couldn't get herself to consider him a pleasant person, his desire to protect his brother had humanized him a great deal in her eyes.

Sure enough, once he was made aware that Minhyuk had come forward and spoken about his daughter and the events of the past month and a half, Jimin looked much less hostile than before.

"I was at Sunset from around 10.30 pm to closing time - which is 2 am," he said, sighing tiredly and rubbing his face with his hands. "You can confirm with them."

While Minhyuk and Jimin's alibis were verified, Yuri received a text from Namjoon, asking her and Jeon to meet him at Seokjin's bakery. It was barely a 2 minute drive there, so Jeon suggested they get lunch over there and make it before Goh finished compiling the list of paperwork for them to finish.

The smell of freshly baked milk bread wafted out of the kitchen, adding another layer of warmth to Seokjin's cozy shop. The man in question picked up the large tray filled with various different confections, and brought it over to the table by the window.

"Peach danish and americano for Namjoon, chocolate fudge brownie and vanilla bean ice cream for Jeongguk, and a snow croissant and hot chocolate for Yuri." He placed everything on the table, before grabbing his lukewarm cup of tea and sitting down with them.

"So you finally find the child, then?" asked Seokjin, sipping the tea. He made a face at the odd taste that tea acquires when it's between comfortingly steamy and soothingly chilled.

"Yeah we did," Yuri replied, when her partner remained silent. "Goh is dealing with Minhyuk and the custody charges. It's no longer in our jurisdiction."

"Namjoon, how's grad school treating you?" Seokjin diverted the conversation, realising that his friend wasn't ready to talk about the case at that moment. "How much longer do you have?"

"A few more months and I should be done." Namjoon wiped the pastry flakes from the corner of his mouth and nearly tipped over his americano in the process. Yuri chuckled at this, suddenly remembering those random moments in high school where Namjoon was a lot thinner and less confident, but still had a propensity for knocking things over.

"Remind me why you're putting yourself through this?" Seokjin broke off a piece of the peach danish and popped it into his mouth.

"The last time I tried to explain that, you spaced out and created a new pastry recipe for your menu. As much as I like helping your business flourish, I'm gonna preserve my energy and only talk about things when necessary."

Seokjin chuckled and picked up a spoon from the dispenser. "Jeongguk, can I get a bit of ice cream from you?" There was no response, and looking at him for confirmation Seokjin's eyebrows shot up in alarm.

"Okay okay, I won't eat any of your ice cream. You don't have to tear up about it!"

Yuri and Namjoon turned towards him as well, not sure what to do when they saw tears slowly sliding down Jeongguk's cheeks.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" asked Namjoon, patting his shoulder softly.

They sat in silence, as Jeongguk sobbed softly and wiped his face with his coat sleeve. He turned towards Yuri, his eyes glazed with tears but holding a soft radiance unlike what she was used to.

"Thank you."

Yuri felt her face heat up suddenly. This wasn't what she had been expecting. The soft sincerity in his voice startled her. It was nothing like the person she had met only a week ago. She looked away abruptly and nodded her head.

"There's nothing to thank me for. This is our job."

Jeongguk smiled and resumed eating the disgustingly sweet dessert combination in front of him. He nudged Seokjin to take some ice cream like he had originally intended. There was silence once more, but this time, it was very different.

Back at the station, Yuri finished the paperwork for the day. There was a lot to complete, and since they had stopped at Seokjin's for a break, they had lost some time as well. Goh had been very clear about completing all the paperwork for social services to take over the case from them now that Gina had been found.

It was barely even 5 pm but Yuri felt a large yawn coming on for the third time in the past few minutes. She wasn't sure how long she would be able to carry on without getting proper sleep at night. At this rate, she would eventually burn out. There was only so much coffee could do for her.

A light tap brought her attention to another person standing in her cubicle. She looked up to see Jeon holding two steaming cups of ramen, tilting his head slightly to confirm whether it was okay for him to sit down.

"Did you need anything?" she asked, after moving her slightly. He placed the ramen on her desk and pulled up his own chair and sat down.

"I've got a peace offering," he gestured to the ramen. "I wanted to apologize properly for being an absolute dickhead to you. I-" He hesitated, looking down at his hands that lay clenched on his lap - "I don't really have an excuse for my behavior but I had a lot on my mind. Particularly about finding the little girl. And, well... you really don't know what solving this case means to me."

Once again, Yuri wasn't sure how to react. She felt embarrassed that he was thanking her for doing her job - something that he did as well. While she appreciated his apology, his entire being remained confusing to her.

"Don't worry about it," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "And thanks for the ramen; food is always appreciated."

Thankfully, her computer ping-ed with a new email before the atmosphere could get any more awkward.

"Okay, we've confirmed Minhyuk's alibi's for 2nd November and 15th December. He wasn't involved in either murder. Jimin was with Minhyuk till 10.15 pm on 15th December - his car's dash cam confirms that he dropped Jimin off at Sunset bar around that time."

"Fantastic! And what about the CCTV footage at Sunset? Does it confirm Jimin's story? He said he was there till 2 am."

"Hang on, I'm opening the report. Th-" she stopped abruptly, frowning at the screen.

"What?" asked Jeon, looking over her shoulder to read the email.

"CCTV footage does not place Jimin at Sunset from 10.15 pm till closing time at 2 in the morning. He doesn't have an alibi for Eunwoo's murder."

She turned to look at him, an odd sense of foreboding hitting her as she realized that they would have to charge Jimin for murder by the next evening. He held her gaze, his dark eyes reflecting a similar shadow of doubt.

please reblog and leave a comment if you liked this part! thank you! 😊

#bts fic #jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook fluff #taehyung #seokjin #namjoon #yoongi #hoseok #bts fluff #bts bookclub #btswritingcafe #bangtanhq #magicshopnet

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mxvladdy · 4 years ago

Text

Talon Sugar Daddies

Heyyy yo! Was gunna post some stuff last night but then....ya now... *waves hands vaguely* I just needed to lay down and eat some pancakes. But I’m better today.

Heres something I made a while ago but never posted bc idk.

As usual Minors DNI and the nsfw is under the cut :*

Maximilien-SFW

Plucked off the streets and thrown into a land of opulence and grandeur, nothing makes Maximilien happier than introducing you to his world. He wants you cultured.

School, paid for. Travels around the world, done. If he can’t go with you he wants a video call every evening. Operas, wine tastings, art exhibits, galas, balls, he’ll take you anywhere. He’ll dress you like the prized jewel you are for these occasions. Designer brands are the only thing he allows on your skin each tailored to match your shape perfectly.

Knowing he is the only one allowed so much as to touch you is the biggest high. The jealous looks of his compatriots make him preen. Go ahead, give him a twirl! Make the others jealous of what they can never have.

You don't have to ask for a thing from him. He just knows. If your gaze ever wanders to a store front during an evening out you can expect whatever it is by sun up. You also try to give him gifts too. But what could you give him he can’t get himself? It's endearing nonetheless.

Biggest pleasure for him is having you on his lap during his meetings, the solid warm weight of your body an odd comfort for the omnic. Especially with all he has to deal with.

Reaper-SFW

“Turn on the news baby I got you something.”

Reaper delights in providing only the best for you. Nothing is off limits if it gives him a chance to see you smile. To show that he can and will do anything for his baby. Your collection of stolen artifacts is starting to rival world renowned museums now. Jewelry, art, gemstones of exorbitant value all given to you with pride. Your gifted loft apartment is covered in stolen goods and high end electronics. He won’t take no for an answer when he brings out his gifts. But is touched by your concern for his well being, no matter how unneeded it was.

You don’t get to see him physically often due to his “career path”. So video chat became your go to for communicating. He enjoys watching you through your laptop doing the most mundane things. Cooking, cleaning, painting your nails while telling him the latest gossip from your friends. It doesn’t matter, as long as it's you.

Due to his infamy it’s sometimes hard to do things together but that doesn’t deter him. He’ll take you anywhere under the cover of night. Sneaking you into stores and venues after hours (with the help of Sombra of course) so you could both enjoy the quiet. Sometimes though you have to talk him down from pocketing things he sees you fawn over.

A surprisingly huge movie buff. On days he’s around and you don’t want to go out he is more than happy to hold you close on the couch and watch movies. Though most of the time movie night divulge into him criticizing or sharing some interesting fact about the film instead of watching it.

Doomfist: Akande- SFW

Like Maximilien, Akande desires perfection in his sugar baby. Your education and social standing are important to him. To him you are his magnum opus. Your schedule living under his roof is meticulous, not that you minded too much. He still gives you plenty of time to meet up with friends. As long as you remember the mornings and evenings were his.

He loves to wine and dine you, having you sample his favorite liquors and spirits with him at a restaurant of his choosing. He compliments you on your apparel or taste in food every time he gets the chance. Keeping you flushed and blushing the entire evening.

Once he thinks you are refined enough he plans to take you to every event he can showing off his taste in partners and encourages you to network. He one day hopes to have you join his little organization. When he trusts you enough he starts to groom you to become his protege for business off the field.

Vacations are a grand mix of business and pleasure. He enjoys spending time at high end boutiques finding things of both yours and his taste. You also have free rein to wander the sprawling city or countryside, soaking up the scenery as Akande takes care of business. Sometimes during these vacations you hardly see him. Not the planned outcome of the trip but these things happen, and he enjoys that you are happy regardless. If anything he makes time for you on the plane ride back, getting a little handys as you somehow manage to straddle his legs.

Maximilien-NSFW

He loves to watch you touch yourself. Sitting legs crossed in his overstuffed leather wingback watching you writhe before him, pretty little hole stuffed to the brim with your fingers or toy.

Speaking of toys…

Out of all of his worldly possessions, his toy box is his favorite. Even for as large as his collection is he makes sure you are familiar with each and every piece of it. He is a strict daddy when it comes to sexual intimacy, many rules are in place for what you can and can’t do. Only good little ones who follow them all get to come.

When you do come undone it’s only to be done bouncing on his lap with his favorite toy of the hour bringing you to nirvana, soaking his expensive three piece. Sweet praises rain down on you as you relax into his steel frame.

But gods help you if you’ve been naughty.

Physical punishment is beneath him, he has no wish to damage his little treasure. No, there are other ways to get his point across though. He will ignore you, leave you touch starved for weeks on end in his penthouse. Alone with nothing but your thoughts, to reflect on your actions. All his gifts swept up from underneath you, your room bare except for the essentials.

When he does come back you better have a good apology ready.

Reaper- NSFW

Gabriel likes to take things slow, building up to the main event. He doesn't know the next time he'll see you, so why rush? He’s pretty kinky and will bring it out in the bedroom. Only if you are comfortable with it. He loves having you at his mercy.

Blinded, gagged and bound a top your bed he will savor you. Tongue tracing and finding every blemish and mark showing affection to the parts you are the most sensitive about.

Eat you out like a champ, 10/10. He probably traded his tongue with the devil's if you’re honest.

Edges you to the point of pain, till you’re crying through your gag. Just enough to get you thrashing body hungry for more. Finally after what seems like an eternity he’ll claim you, taking you rough and hard, hell bent on leaving a mark on you. Something to remember him by till next time.There is no way you’re moving tomorrow once he's done with you.

Be prepared to be pampered and coddled afterwards. He never wants you to forget how much you mean to him.

Even when he can't be around you he makes sure you know he wants you. You can always expect some devious gifts in the mail while he's away.

Phone sex with Gabe is an experience. That rough raspy voice moaning in your ear all the sinful things he wishes he could do right now. Listening to his guff pants of passion as he strokes himself to completion your name echoing in his dark room.

“Does daddy's gift feel good baby? Sí? But not as good as me right?”

He has every picture you ever sent him saved for when the mood hits. Sometimes you are woken up by your phone binging loudly, a message from your daddy. He is the only man you have ever met that is somehow able to take tasteful dick pics.

Punishment with Reaper can be scary but it takes a lot to get him to that point. He uses sex as a punishment thinking only of himself those times. Spankings and verbal degradation are staple in his arsenal. Though he would be lying if he thought he could stay mad at you for long. These sessions are savage but short, giving him plenty of time to see to you afterwards.

Doomfist: Akande-NSFW

Oof. You’ll be walking funny for a few days that’s for sure especially if you rile him up. Nothing gets him going like showing off the latest lingerie fashions for him. Custom made for both of your pleasures. He’ll watch from a distance at first circling you like a predator, getting steadily closer each rotation. You can almost feel the heat of his gaze. Slowly and leisurely just to tease him you remove each article watching him watch you. Surprisingly gentle when he finally starts, kissing and tasting you after getting impatient with your little strip tease. Large hands remove what you haven’t gotten to yet carefully.

Prep takes some time but damn if you don’t get off from it. His fingers and tongue alone get you going, lapping and sucking. Large fingers stretching you open, the burn only adding to your excitement. One large hand is all it takes to pick you up wrapped around your waist. You are his favorite little cock sleeve, and he tells you this regularly groaning at the tight feel of you around him. So wet and sloppy, the lewd noises of your hips meeting only punctuated periodically by loud gasps of pleasure. Watching you come undone under him and around him as he fills you is euphoric.

Messing up is expected, to become perfection takes work. He won’t be too hard, you’ll just need extra lessons. A better teacher; a firmer hand, himself perhaps...

#overwatch headcanons #overwatch fandom #dem bois got me

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