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heya-dollface · 6 months ago

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What to look for when making Long Hair for Dolls - The Differences in 100% Acrylic Yarns

Hey lovely doll peeps, hope you're having a good day! So over in the Dollblr community here on Tumblr, some people had some questions regarding making doll hair out of acrylic yarn. So I took some time to grab some yarn from my stash and lay out what I know about working with it. It was helpful there, so now I'm copying the post over here so you all can enjoy it and use its knowledge for your own doll needs. That said, if you're interested in the Dollbllr community, go reach out to @plasma-packin-peep/@peepersponies to see about getting an invite. It's a really sweet group of people from what I've experienced so far. <3

Let me give you a quick summary of about five years worth of learning to work with this material.

Welcome to my desk! Before you are five different yarns from my stash. All of these are 100% acrylic. As you can see, acrylic yarn comes in a wide variety of sizes and softness, and while I can do the same things to all of them, they will behave slightly differently. My favorites of this bunch are the Yarn Bee True Colors and the Charisma. Yarn Bee is the native brand to Hobby Lobby, and Charisma I've found at Michaels. Loops & Threads and Hometown, which aren't pictured here, other brands I've enjoyed working with in their thicker fiber variants, also over at Michaels.

The common wisdom in the doll community is that you use 100% acrylic because it's a synthetic fiber that can handle heat. That means it can handle a flat iron or curling wand without melting, which is what makes it look similar to real human hair on this scale. I haven't tested a ton in the way of other fibers. But one of my dolls, Sass here, uses a combination of 100% acrylic yarn and a yarn that's part acrylic, part nylon, and I wanna say part spandex? It's been like 4 years since I made this guy, and that yarn's label is lost, but you can see that the nylon yarn sticks out a little. It doesn't flat iron nicely into a fluffy, realistic hair, it's more stringy. So useful to know if you want that look!

So here's what we're going to do. I've taken all of the yarns pictured and taken them apart to show you how much fiber I lose on an average yarn prep. I'm gonna show you what that looks like from left to right. My method is to cut my yarn, unravel each strand by hand, then take a wire pet brush to it to smooth it out. Instead of tying my yarn to a hanger or hoop, I hold it in my hand, brush through the yarn gently until I'm halfway through, then flip it and go after it from the other side. This is good for ensuring that my length is preserved. Whatever fiber gets stuck in the pet brush, I then take out, mush together, and brush through again so that I have more yarn hair to work with. After that, I will take a flat iron to it and then brush through one more time, but I'm not showing those last two steps here. That said, sometimes flat ironing does lead to losing more fiber, so that is something to consider.

Let's start with that big chonker. This is also a Yarn Bee yarn, and it's probably ideal for an easy time getting your hair unraveled. I have yet to use this one on a doll, truth be told I got it on clearance and haven't figured out who the color would suit. It's very easy to pull apart and work with, and as you can see, it retains a lot of its length.

Next is the True Colors. This stuff is so soft, which is why it's my preference, and while it can be easy to tear apart, you can still retain a lot of length if you're gentle. Like look at the far right, that's all the fiber I took out of the pet brush and mushed back together. It's still a pretty sizable amount of yarn fiber to work with!

The Charisma is a similar story. Something you've probably noticed is that not all yarns have the same amount of strands when pulled apart. I tend to see 2 to 4 on average when I'm prepping yarn. This is a two strander, and once again, it's soft and delightful. Highly recommend going to a physical store and touching your yarn before your buy it. The softer stuff is my preference given how much I'm holding and touching it.

This yarn from Mainstay I got on clearance at Walmart, and it's actually quite soft to the touch! As you can see, our strands are getting thinner here, which is harder to unravel with your fingers. I loose a lot of length when brushing through yarn like this, and it's hard to mush the fibers back together. Yarn like this is incredibly common, and I'll be honest, I don't love working with it. ^^''' But it may be perfect for your project needs! All depends on what you want in a yarn. If you're looking to give a doll a wavy/curled hair without having to curl it yourself, just unraveling and plugging a lot of these in might be for you!

I don't remember where this seafoam green yarn came from, but I think it might be yarn marketed for making baby clothes. It's very thin, and it knots a little at the ends when you unravel it, which is frustrating. I managed to preserve and reconstruct pretty well with this fiber, but the amount of hassle it takes to get through this for a full head of doll hair is very aaaahhh. Like I said, maybe this works for your project. I tend to save this kind of yarn for stuff like accents rather than the main hair color, just because it takes so long to work with.

And there you have it! Those are my notes about brushing out doll hair! As a quick aside, you don't have to brush out yarn in order for it to be beautiful. Sometimes I like to only unravel it and use it that way, like with my recent fairy doll here. She uses a blend of two True Colors yarns and I wanna say a Charisma for the white. There's even a pink and white yarn in here that I didn't brush out, I just boiled and then froze it around a foam curler and threw it in for more texture, though it's a bit tough to spot in this photo.

At the end of the day, you can use just about any acrylic yarn for your project, the question is really what are you willing to put up with. I know myself, I know that I can put on a movie or chat with friends as I'm unraveling a thicker fiber yarn and then brush it out another time and have it be tolerable. That works for me. As you can see, a staple of my dolls is having really long, soft yarn hair, so it makes sense that this is what I gravitate towards. XD

But maybe you want something different out of your yarn experience. That's fine too! The best thing you can do is experiment to see what you like. Do what makes you happy! There is no wrong way to customize your dolls (so long as you're not putting yourself or others in danger). Go have fun, be kind to yourself, and be safe in handling your materials. And of course, if you have any questions, feel free to ask! I've been customizing since November of 2018, and I love chatting about this art form. To my beginners especially, there is no such thing as a stupid question, don't be afraid to ask for help if you're unsure of where to go.

Here's wishing you all a wonderful day, and happy customizing! <3

#dollblr #doll customs #doll hair #yarn hair #100% acrylic yarn #doll customization #doll customizing #doll repaints #monster high custom #monster high repaints

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thewritetofreespeech · 2 years ago

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Hello, dear author-san! Could I request Mammon, Satan and Lucifer with an s/o that has a bunch of unrelated skills and talents? Botany, cooking, ice sculpting, pottery, textile work, painting, jewellery making, gambling, etc. This is prolly really weird, sorry.

Lucifer, Mammon, Satan + multi-hobby reader

Lucifer

“Hello darling.” Lucifer greeted as he came into the den. “How is the crochet coming?”

“Oh I gave up on that.” [Y/N] replied cheerfully. “I’m taking up needle point now.”

Lucifer sighed and sat down across from them. He never questioned [Y/N]’s invested interest in new hobbies. Whatever constructively helped them pass the time. Sometimes they were good, like when they took up new cooking techniques or gardening. Some where less good, like when they took up axe throwing and put a big gaping hole in the wall. His only complaint was that they perhaps had too many hobbies. Constantly changing them and never seeing one through.

“You know, if you stuck with your hobbies for a while, you might find that you improve on them. You don’t have to be instantly good at every new thing you try.”

“I know that.” Their tone did not sound convincing, however. “I just like to try new things.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Lucifer agreed. “And there’s nothing wrong with giving up on things you don’t actually interest you in the end. However, if you don’t give these hobbies of yours a proper chance you’ll never know. Sometimes the things that are the most challenging offer the greater reward when we accomplish them.”

[Y/N] sat their needlepoint down and looked at Lucifer. “Maybe you’re right. I guess I could give it another shot. I did buy all that new yarn.”

Lucifer smile. “Whatever makes you happy darling.”

Mammon

“Ow! What the--! Who’s Akuzon order is all over the damn lobby?!”

“Sorry! It’s mine!” [Y/N] apologized. Jogging up to Mammon to get their boxes.

“Oh…ok.” He knelt down to pick up one of the boxes. Suddenly pain & anger free from almost tripping over them a moment ago. “What is all this?”

“My new leather press.” Mammon gave them a confused look, which made [Y/N] chuckle. “It’s for making leather belts or jewelry. Stuff like that.”

“Belts hn?” Mammon replied as he helped carry the boxes upstairs now. “Well, if ya ever need a model for ‘em. Look no further than right here!”

[Y/N] chuckled again. “A model? Why would I need that?”

“For when ya take the pictures to try and help sell ‘em.”

“I’m not going to sell them.”

“Then why bother?” Clearly this made no sense to him.

“I don’t know. It just seemed like a fun thing to try. Besides, I don’t even know if I’ll be good at it.”

“I’m sure ya will be. You’re good at everything.” Mammon seemed to realize that he had said that out loud, and his ears turned red. “I mean, I’m sure it can’t be that hard. You just pull this handle thingy down over the leather and it works like that, right? Any idiot can do that.”

“Well, this ‘idiot’ is gonna try.” [Y/N] teased. Making Mammon pout. “But, I tell you what, I may not need to model but I can make you a belt once I get the hang of it. How about that?”

Mammon’s face lit up for a moment, but then he tried to tamper it down. “I mean…yeah, sure. If you want to. I guess that would be cool.”

He then proceeded to wear it every day once he got it.

Satan

“What are you reading?” Satan asked as he came up to [Y/N] with their nose buried in a book.

“It’s a book on gardening.” They replied. “I was really interested in the herbology lesson the other day, so I wanted to see about maybe growing some of the plants to keep around here.”

“That’s very ambitious.” He told them. “Devildom plants are notoriously tricky to grow in a control environment. They like to be wild.”

“Like the people?” [Y/N] asked. Giving Satan a cheeky look. To which he smiled.

“I suppose. Which one are you going to try first?”

“I was thinking this one.” They showed him a picture of some flowers, commonly now as Magpie Blooms. “They look really pretty and I thought that they would brighten up the house.”

“They will up until the point they try to kill us.” Satan interjected. “Magpies are aromatically poisonous.”

[Y/N] quickly turned the book around with a startled, “what??” and re-read the passage. “Geez. You’d think they’d mention it in here.”

“It’s sort of common knowledge to us.

[Y/N] sighed and sat the book down. “Don’t get discouraged [Y/N]. There are a lot of other, perfectly lovely plants that aren’t nearly as dangerous. Tell you what, why don’t we try this new hobby together? I’ve always liked plants. Maybe not as much as Asmo, but enough. And learning a new topic is always interesting. Why do you say?”

[Y/N] beamed and said, “ok!” Before opening the book again and sitting next to Satan to go over it.

Satan, of course, thought that their first attempt should be for catnip. They settled on a lavender bush instead, but there may have been a small pot of catnip secretly growing in Satan’s room later.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#satan x reader #obm satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me satan #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #lucifer #obey me mammon x reader #mammon #obey me mammon #mammon x reader #obey me #obey me scenarios #obey me imagine #scenarios #imagine

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deansgapjacket · 2 years ago

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Journal update

So my dad found his old 1995 planner and it had one of these plastic album pages that was PERFECT for THE Dean page ↑ from the pilot so I filled it with some printed old pictures some I found from screenshots from the episode others are random. On the back page there’s the Henry Winchester photo and the one directly to the right of that the kinda nondescript backyard is an actual old photo I bought at an antique shop! ↓

Next here’s some of the photos we see in the show that I wanted to include ↓

Now these are my little non canon touches I have been printing out some of the old Winchester riffle advertisements cause I mean come on they’re too perfect and this one on the left pic says “riffles for all kinds of hunting” I just had to include. The Impala polaroid is one I took at spn Dallas con ;) the garage pic on the right is from a random hobby lobby package of old photos but in light of the Winchesters show sharing the Winchester garage I thought it looked cool in the back here with some scraps. The practical manual for hunters I literally ripped out of my “the essential supernatural on the road again with Sam and Dean” book its one of those things that was included on a page, and looks pretty cool in the back of the journal.

I recently updated this inside of the journal on the left here I re-printed the military John photo cause I didn’t like how my last one was more sepia than b&w and so this is more accurate. I realized if I put actual military ribbons it would make this area stick out when you close it and that kinda bugs me so I literally just printed out pictures of them and glued them down lol. Although I do still plan on buying the pins from conquest! But ill probably only use the marksman one. In the pockets I have a lot of stuff too much to explain here but here’s a sneak ↓

Here’s an old motel post card I bought last summer at an antique shop in a mountain town in North Carolina. ↓

I was in Burbank California recently and in an antique shop they were selling old photos per usual which is one of the reasons I never pass up antique shops and they’re cool as hell but anyways I picked up this baby photo, although I typically don’t like to buy old baby photos they kinda creep me out lol this one had hand written “Bobby” on the bottom and I HAD to get it I mean how perfect?!!

I also got some old garage ones with some cars but I’m posting using the mobile app so I’m at my picture limit but just use ur imagination cause they’re cool but anyways thanks for reading this update!!

#John Winchester #John Winchester’s journal #Henry Winchester’s Journal #supernatural #spn #supernatural prop #prop recreation #Winchester

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honeybeestitches · 3 years ago

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setting up a cross stitch - beginner

So you want to try cross stitch. You need a couple things. You do not need fancy things - there are a lot of fancy options but let's take it easy.

First things first. I took these pictures at a Michael's store in the US. You can also get this stuff from Hobby Lobby or from fabric stores like Jo-Anns or other craft stores.

To buy online, I recommend two places: https://www.everythingcrossstitch.com/ or https://123stitch.com/. I have bought from both these online places with great success.

So you have your pattern. I will be using a self-drafted pattern today as an example. This is a legend.

These pages will look different based on who the pattern maker was, but the pages will look something like this. For setting up the pattern you want to know two things in particular: how much fabric you need, and which floss to buy. We'll cover the rest of reading the legend in a different post.

This post covers:

- how to calculate how much fabric you need - aida fabric sizes - how to buy floss - what else you need: hoops, needles, embroidery scissors, bobbins

Let's get into it under the cut.

How much fabric do you need?

Cross stitch is stitched on a variety of evenweave fabrics. The most common, and what I would definitely recommend for any beginner, is aida fabric. Aida fabric up close looks like this.

So as you can see the weave is done to give you these little squares.

Aida comes in a variety of sizes. The most common ones to see at a craft store and the most popular for a beginner are 14, 16, 18. These numbers designate how many of those little squares there are to every one inch. So 14 aida means that there are 14 squares per linear inch. 18 aida means there are 18 squares, which means the pattern will come out smaller than it would on a 14 size aida (and the squares will be smaller and harder to see). So if we look at our pattern guide page, we want to look at the grid size and design area:

grid size: 121w x 110h design area: 110w x 104h

the grid size speaks to how big the overall grid is. the design area is how big the actual design is. so if it's 110 stitches wide and 104 stitches tall, this tells you how much fabric you need for the design:

on 14 inch aida: 110 stitches divided by 14 stitches per inch = 7.8 inches. (110/14 = 7.8). 104 stitched divided by 14 stitches per inch = 7.4 inches (104/14 = 7.4) so you need a fabric that is 7.8 x 7.4 just for the design area.

NOW ADD AT LEAST THREE INCHES TO EACH SIDE. this is so the design can be framed. you do not want to start your stitches right up against the edge of anything. so if the pattern is 7.8 x 7.4 and you add 3 inches to EACH SIDE, that's + 6.

7.8+6(3 for left, 3 for right) = 13.8. 7.4+6(3 for top, 3 for bottom) = 13.4

So we can round up for fun, and you need a piece of fabric that's about a 14x14 inch piece of fabric to stitch this pattern on 14 size aida.

Here's Michael's selection of aida:

For the most part, pick up the cream or white and don't get fancy unless your pattern tells you to get fancy. Realize that stitching on colored fabric like black looks sexy but is very difficult because you need to finagle your light sources differently. If you're a true beginner, stick to white or cream.

Hobby Lobby does I think carry a more extensive selection for what it's worth. Their in-house store brand is fine, I've used it before. If I were picking up a roll like this, which is a 20x24 inch, I would probably cut it down to a 15x15 before I started stitched just to eliminate some of the excess. You can save that excess for bookmarks or test strips later!

What floss to buy?

Ok so. Sometimes the pattern legends don't say DMC. If the pattern does not specify which brand of floss to use, you are using DMC. It's the standard in cross stitch. Sometimes it's called thread; do not be fooled. It is not thread like you use for regular sewing. It's specific embroidery floss. Floss comes like this:

As you can see at the bottom of the bar code, this is DMC 3799, very dark grey. you don't need to know the color names to buy floss, you only need to know these numbers. On our legend above, we need to buy numbers 818 and 3687 etc. I usually just write this out like a little list on paper and go forth.

So you go up to your craft store and here is what the display looks like:

Each color is sorted into these bins and they are numbered in numerical order. Unless your pattern specifies how many skeins to buy, as long as you're using a basic beginner's pattern I would buy one skein of floss per color to start. These babies go a long way.

"Darcy," you say. "What about these colors that aren't in the bin that are hanging up in the pegboard?" Ignore them. They are not for you. Unless they are numbered 1-35, which are new colors you may need because some places haven't integrated these colors into their bin displays yet. There are sometimes colors with sparkles or metallics or colors twisted into what looks like much longer loops of floss or even other brands. Ignore them. Get the colors your pattern legend tells you to get and walk away from the temptations.

What else do I need?

A hoop:

Pick whatever size hoop fits your hand. I usually use an eight inch hoop. The size of the hoop versus the size of your pattern is irrelevant. You want to be able to hold the hoop comfortably. I have no thoughts re: bamboo/wood versus plastic. Some people do. I don't. I use both.

I like the 8 inch because the curve of the hoop fits into my palm really well, because it's big enough to rest a little bit on my chest when I'm stitching actively (which helps stabilize lol) and because I can reach everywhere in it. You can see that my excess fabric doesn't matter to the size of the hoop. I just fold it around as necessary, or if I have a lot of excess fabric I'll roll it around itself and secure it with a binder clip. If I ended up having to move the hoop so that it hooped over some stitches, it would honestly be fine.

Embroidery scissors:

technically you can use any scissors but I do recommend picking up actual embroidery scissors because they are A LOT SMALLER and a lot sharper than regular scissors and can get into some nooks and crannies if required.

Needles:

Needles are what started the whole concept behind this post because I was sure that if I said to someone with no experience that they needed a needle they would surely get the wrong one. Get a TAPESTRY NEEDLE. They look like this.

Size 24 tapestry need is perfect for 14 count aida. For anything bigger, go with the 26.

Bobbins:

Technically, you do not need bobbins and I'd be lying if I said you did. I'd also be lying if I said there's a better, easier way to store floss.

Basically you take your floss out of that skein, WRITE THE DMC NUMBER AT THE TOP OF THE BOBBIN, and wind your skein around it. This is because the paper that tells you what number the floss is is very easily lost. Like, very easily. Don't trust yourself. You will think "oh it'll be fine" but that is the devil talking. Don't get into cardboard or paper bobbins either, that is also the devil talking. "oh a cute elephant shape!" you will hate that in about one day when it won't hold up to the use. Spring for plastic, plant a tree later about it, and don't hate yourself for it. Use a fine-tipped marker to write the DMC number (I use a fine-tipped sharpie) and rest easy.

So what does this all look like put together?

You don't need one of these fancy bobbin storage bins, I just happen to have a million of them and I think they're nice for organization. You can literally just use a plastic bag if that suits you. But you can see I have my fabric in the size I need, I have my hoop in the size I like, I have my scissors ready, and I have my bobbins wound with the DMC numbers written at the top. It's organized in numerical order so I can find them easy.

I forgot to put my needles in this picture but I have them stored right beside me here in a pincushion. You can store yours by sticking it back into the package it comes in, by storing into a pin cushion, or by sort of threading them into your fabric (push up, not all the way through, push back down so it stays put). You can also use a needle minder, which is a very strong magnet thing, which is what I use when stitching to avoid sticking my needles into my sofa as a placeholder, but you don't need to spring for that cost right off the bat (although Etsy has loads of cute ones).

AND THAT'S IT! WE'RE READY TO BEGIN! Shoot me an ask if you have questions!

#cross stitch #beginners #how to set up a cross stitch

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kythed · 4 years ago

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an age of miracles

synopsis: why do the most beautiful people always seem to get the short end of the stick?

tagged: atsumu miya x reader, mentions of illness, mentions of god.

commitment level: 3,617 words.

hospitals are liminal spaces. transitional, gateways between birth and death and the whole mess in between. (life.) they’re sites of both tragedy and miraculous recovery, and you’re not yet too old to stop praying for the latter.

his name is atsumu. you skim the documents pinned to his door — atsumu miya. age 21. cirrhosis.

cirrhosis is late stage liver scarring. nasty stuff. evidently, atsumu miya is in his third stage — portal hypertension. abdominal swelling. jaundice.

for a bedridden guy with a serious illness, he’s not as justifiably depressed as one might assume.

“hey, doc,” he says when you come in. he’s facing the window, letting the sunlight cast a saintly halo across his cheeks. blonde hair, an angular sort of face that’s been hollowed by illness. in another life, he might’ve been handsome.

you clear your throat, and he glances back, surprised. “ah. you’re not my doctor.”

“nope. nursing student.” you sit at the foot of his bed. “i’ll be monitoring you the next month or so as part of my studies.”

“monitoring,” he repeats drily. “you make it sound like i’m a lab specimen in a test tube.”

“means you’re special.”

“sure. ‘specially fucked up.” he’s younger than you are, but there’s an aged weariness in his gaze.

“aren’t we all, mr. miya?”

he cracks a grin. “touche. call me atsumu, though. mr. miya’s my dad.”

“as you wish, mr. miya,” you say, biting back a smile. (there are those who say sarcasm has no place in hospitals. you do not fall into this category.)

atsumu likes to play chess. the second day of your clinical, he’s got a travel sized chess board set up on his bedside table. “been dying from boredom the past few hours. think you could take a break from ‘monitoring’ me to play a game?”

you set your clipboard down. “i could. i’d advise against it, though. i’m a pretty good player.”

atsumu grins. “not better than me.”

he’s right. he beats you three games in a row before you finally snag a checkmate. (and you suspect this is only due to pity.)

“what’d i tell you, baby?” he crows, and you shake your head, raising your arms in surrender.

“it was an off day. if i’d been on my game i could’ve swept the floor with you.”

“prove it,” atsumu says, leaning forward. he’s pale from a lack of sunshine, but you notice a faint pink glow in his cheeks now. “come back tomorrow.”

tomorrow’s a saturday, and you don’t have clinical. “of course i will.”

you’re not one to back down from a challenge, no matter how trivial. plus, atsumu is fun. (and kind of cute.)

“hi. brought you something.” you set a tupperware of cubed fruit on atsumu’s lap before pulling up a chair next to the bed.

“did you make this?” he says, eyes wide.

“i just chopped up a few apples and stuff,” you say, plucking a blueberry from the container and popping it into your mouth.

atsumu shakes his head before biting into a chunk of pineapple. “you’d think it’d be hard to mess up fruit salad, but somehow this damn hospital can make a strawberry taste like cough medicine. everything they serve here tastes like cough medicine, actually.”

“delicious.”

“disgusting.” atsumu sets up the chess board. “so, like, thanks. for the fruit. can i keep the tupperware?”

you laugh. “why do you wanna keep the tupperware?”

“it’s a reminder of normality.” atsumu shrugs. “i only ever eat off chipped hospital dishes here.”

your chest throbs. “oh, atsumu.”

“don’t you ‘oh, atsumu’ me,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“sorry. yeah, you can keep it.”

(he wins at chess again.)

you’re only required to come in to the hospital three times a week, but you get into the habit of visiting atsumu every day. the first time you visit after class, you’re wearing a sweater and jeans. atsumu wolf whistles.

“damn. you look good when you’re not in scrubs.”

“are you saying i don’t rock scrubs?” you press a hand to your chest in mock offense.

“nobody looks good in scrubs,” atsumu says. “except for me, probably. i look good in anything.”

you laugh. “i believe it.”

“you’d better.” atsumu has a nice smile, you notice, wide and shiny.

you plop yourself down beside him on the bed. “hey, you wanna see a picture i took on the way here? i found a stray cat near the convenience store.”

“i’m a dog person,” atsumu says, but he nonetheless leans forward to get a look at your phone. “oh, cute.”

“isn’t he?” you say, zooming in on the little orange cat. “i think i’m gonna name him after you.”

“what?” atsumu huffs. “why?”

“because he’s good at chess,” you say.

atsumu furrows his brow. “you played chess with a cat?”

“no, i just have a feeling,” you hum, and atsumu rolls his eyes with a small smile.

“you’re stupid.”

you slip your phone back into your pocket. “in a cute way, though.”

“if you say so,” atsumu says, and you flick his shoulder. “ouch. way to bully a sick man.”

“you deserved it,” you laugh, and he joins in.

“yeah, i did.”

the next time you visit, atsumu’s family is there. his parents have kind, tired faces.

“nice to meet you,” his mom says, grasping your hand warmly. “i’m glad atsumu has a friend here.”

“mom,” complains atsumu. “i have friends.”

“none as cool as me, though,” you tease, and he smiles.

“you’re right,” he says, and his dad rumples his hair before turning to shake your hand.

“it’s great to meet you, mr. miya,” you say, returning the shake.

“the pleasure’s mine,” he says. he looks nearly identical to atsumu, just a little grayer. right next to him, there’s a boy who really does look exactly identical to atsumu, though his hair’s dyed dark and he’s a little more filled out. he has an air of begrudging maturity about him, the telltale sign of a young man who’s been forced to carry burdens that aren’t his.

“i’m osamu,” he says. he’s sitting on the chair near atsumu’s bed. “this little asshole’s brother.”

“i don’t know why you keep calling me little,” atsumu says, lightly punching osamu’s forearm. “i’m the older twin.”

“yeah, but you act like a baby.” osamu grins and leans out of reach when atsumu tries to swat at him. you chuckle behind a hand, leaning back against the wall as mr. and mrs. miya question you about your studies and hobbies.

on your way out of the hospital a half hour later, you run into osamu at the lobby coffee shop.

“so,” he says, sipping from a steaming cup. “you’re a nursing student?”

“mm,” you say, handing a fiver to the cashier to pay for your sandwich. “i’m in my fourth year at hyogo university. are you in college, too?”

“nah,” says osamu. “i play volleyball. professionally, i mean.”

“oh!” you notice the lettering on his sports jacket for the first time. msby black jackals. “that’s really cool.”

osamu shrugs. “sometimes it is. tsumu’s wanted to be a pro player since we were kids — but he won’t ever be able to do that now, of course. so that’s why i play. better to have one miya in the pro circuit than none at all.”

your heart sinks. “you’re a great brother, osamu.”

osamu shakes his head. “i’m really not. it should’ve been me in that hospital bed.”

“osamu…” you trail off as osamu just shakes his head, giving you a sad smile.

“it was nice meeting you,” he says before tossing his cup and heading back towards the elevators.

“no,” atsumu says staunchly, crossing his arms. “definitely not. i don’t read.”

“come on,” you wheedle, dangling the book in front of his face. “it’s one of my favorites, and i thought it might stave off some of that stifling boredom you always complain about.”

“i’m bored, but not that bored,” atsumu says, squinting at the book. “what is that about, anyways? the little prince? sounds lame.”

“it’s not lame,” you promise, bouncing slightly on the bed. atsumu sniffs. “okay, what if i read it to you? you don’t have to do anything but listen.”

“i’m not a child.”

“you’re acting like one.”

atsumu throws his hands up in defeat. “alright, fine. you win. we can read the little prince.”

“excellent.” you beam. “scoot over?”

“what?” atsumu says, but he scoots to the side of his bed as you kick your shoes off and curl up next to him. you feel his breath hitch as he lightly lets his arm curve around your waist.

you sigh, content, and flip to read the first page. “once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book…”

it takes three visits to finish the entire story. atsumu sniffles when you read the last line, rubbing his eyes furiously.

“did he die?”

you trace a light circle on atsumu’s palm, smiling slightly. “i don’t know. i think it’s up to the reader to decide. he left his body, but is that really death? or is it just… moving on?”

“i think he just moved on,” insists atsumu. “he moved on and returned to the stars. he was just a kid. he was too young to have died.”

“look at you,” you tease, and atsumu flushes. “waxing on poetic.”

“it was good,” atsumu says gruffly. “thank you.”

“you’re welcome,” you breathe, and when atsumu buries his face in your neck, you realize he’s crying.

he kisses you for the first time a week later. it’s late in the afternoon, and both your faces are tinged with gold. he slips a hand beneath your jaw, and you let him slowly guide your lips to meet his. they’re soft, hesitant, and sweet, pressing against yours with an uncharacteristic shyness.

you sigh happily when he pulls you forward to straddle his lap, slipping your hands into his thick blonde hair, letting him press light kisses down the length of your neck.

“hey, beautiful,” he breathes into your collarbone, and you laugh.

“hey, pretty boy. nice to see you today.”

atsumu’s discovered a newfound love for reading ever since you read the little prince outloud to him. you’ve been bringing him secondhand books from the thrift store near your house, and now there’s a sizeable stack of novels out on the table.

“i think i’ve read more in the past couple months than i ever read in high school,” he admits, running a finger down the spine of treasure island. “you’ve turned me into a nerd.”

“you’re welcome,” you say, straightening his collar.

“it’s kind of nice, though,” he says thoughtfully, tossing the book back on the table. “to read about all these different people, all the things they do. all the stories i’m never gonna get to experience.”

“you’re getting to experience them through reading,” you correct. “that’s the beauty of fiction.”

atsumu laughs. “you’re such a sap.”

“it’s true,” you insist. “god knows life is too short to live through everything we’d like to. that’s why he gave us imagination.”

“do you believe in god?” atsumu asks softly. his stare grows distant.

you think for a moment. “sometimes i do. do you?”

“same. sometimes.” he fiddles with the hem of his shirt. “sometimes i wonder, though… like, if there’s a god, why does he hate me?”

you chew on your cheek. “why do you feel hated?”

atsumu laughs a laugh tinged with slight bitterness. “sweetheart… i’m not going to live past twenty-five, if even that.”

you swallow the knot in your throat, letting it sink deep into your stomach where it sits like a lump of copper. “well… the little prince is less than a hundred pages. sometimes the shortest books are the best reads.”

atsumu nods silently. he’s not convinced. you’re not sure if you are, either.

atsumu sleeps a lot these days. you spend as much time with him as you can, but more often than not, he’s in a half conscious daze, curled up beneath the white hospital comforter. during these times, you just set your backpack by the door the slip into bed next to him, wrapping yourself around his back and pressing your palms to his chest just to feel his heartbeat. it’s faint, but it’s steady and rhythmic. ba-dump. ba-dump. ba-dump.

sometimes, atsumu’s his usual, lively self, cracking bad jokes and poking fun at you. his smiling face has come to be your favorite picture. on these days, you bring him a hot chocolate from the coffee shop and split it with him, kissing off the whipped cream that finds its way onto his lips. he still likes to play chess, and, though he won’t admit it, you’ve been getting better. one day, you beat him, two games to one.

there are solemn, quiet times, and there are bright, cheerful times, but you savor all of them. every moment spent with atsumu is valuable in your book. occasionally, you’ll go with him out into the hospital garden, into the warmth of the sun. every so often he’ll stop, lean on you to catch his breath, but he never complains.

“look,” he’ll say instead, pointing at a vine of jasmine, or a single daisy swaying in the breeze. “almost as pretty as you.”

one day, as you’re leaving atsumu’s room, you run into his doctor in the hall.

“keep your chin up,” she says, straightening her glasses. “it’s possible he could still recover. strong young men often do.”

you nod slowly. “is he going to need a transplant?”

“well,” says the doctor, clicking on her pen absentmindedly. “if it gets any worse, yes. but i’m going to be honest with you — it’s unlikely we’ll find a donation with both a matching blood type and in good condition.”

“ah.”

“so just hope for the best.” she slips into his room before you can say another word, leaving you to lean heavily against the wall, staring at nothing in particular. miracles happen every day, you remind yourself. there’s no reason atsumu shouldn’t be the recipient of one.

“hey,” atsumu says. he whispers your name with an unusual tenderness. “i have to talk to you.”

it’s been five months since you first met atsumu on a clinical, and it’s been three months since he began to call you his girlfriend. you lace your fingers between his, giving his hand a light squeeze. “yeah, ‘tsumu?”

he takes a deep, shuddering breath. “i don’t think i’m going to… be here much longer.”

“no,” you say, chest tightening. “don’t say that. you’re gonna be fine.”

“sweetheart,” he says, voice low. he takes your chin and firmly turns your head to look at him. “i’m sorry. you know i am. i just… i’m sick. it’s hard to think straight sometimes, so i just wanted to tell you before i can’t anymore.”

“tell me what?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“tell you that i love you.”

“atsumu,” you breathe. a frustrated tear finds its way down your cheek. “i… i love you, too. but please… just hang on. they’ll find a donor. they have to.”

“they might not,” he says, and he smiles, pulling you close. you knot your hands in the front of his t-shirt, pressing your face to his chest. “don’t cry. i’m just going to go live in the stars, right? like the little prince.”

there’s so many things you want to say, like, you nerd, can’t believe you’re making literary allusions or shut up, asshole, or i’ll miss you if you do, but you say nothing, because if you open your mouth you’re sure you’ll just sob.

“don’t cry,” he says again, but he’s crying, and you lift your face to see the tears streaming. “i love you.”

your throat is too thick to say it back, but he sees it in your eyes. i love you, too.

you spend the rest of the night with him before leaving at a little past 2am, and the next morning, you get a text from osamu.

he’s gone.

you don’t cry at the funeral. it’s small, just his family, a group of close friends, and you. you don’t look in the casket, either, because you want to remember his smile, and empty bodies don’t. you sip on a paper cup of water and lean against a wall, where osamu finds you.

“hey,” he says, and you nod in return. “he left this for you.”

you take the letter from him, and after he gives your shoulder a squeeze and heads back to his parents, you tear it open.

hey, you. i’m writing this two months after you first came into my room in that god-awful set of scrubs. right now, you’re napping in the chair near my bed. you look cute. we had our first kiss last week, and i’m still walking on air. fuck, that sounds dorky. oh, well. guess i’m a dork. only for you, though.

anyways, if you’re reading this, it’s because i’ve died. whoop-dee-doo. i’ve moved on to the great beyond. i’ve fallen past the veil. whatever it is you nerds like to say. there are probably things i’m going to say to you in the next few months that are a little more… intimate, i guess? but i wanted to tell you this while it’s still fresh in my mind: you’ve honest-to-goodness saved my life. i mean, it might not go on for much longer, sure, but you really have, in a way. being sick is weird. it makes you a lot more sensitive to miracles.

you start. you don’t remember ever talking to atsumu about miracles.

someone from the outside might look at me and call me unlucky, but i feel pretty damn lucky right now. meeting you was without a doubt a miracle, and if i never got sick, it never would’ve happened. take that as you will, i guess. all i know is i’m not angry at god, even though maybe i should be. i mean, i’m still not sure he’s even out there. but there’s gotta be something, or someone, because how the fuck else could i have possibly recieved something so… great? i sure as hell never did something to deserve it. (god, i sound stupid. but it’s just hard to chalk up to coincidence.)

anyways, i love you. not sure i’ll ever get the guts to say that out loud, so i’m saying it here. i love you, and i hope you love me, too.

- atsumu

“i do,” you whisper. “i do.”

on your way home, you stop at the convenience store for a bottled water, and the little orange cat comes out and winds itself around your leg, purring.

“hey, ‘tsumu,” you say, squatting down to scratch its head. “fancy a game of chess?”

it meows back.

“yeah?” your eyes grow wet, and you wipe them on the sleeve of your sweater. “wanna come home with me?”

it meows again, and this time, you break out into full scale crying. you’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but you think you can see a tear in the cat’s eye, too.

he follows you home, and the next day, you purchase a water dish, a big bag of cat food, and a blue collar. (blue was atsumu’s favorite color.)

three years later.

“honey?”

“yeah?”

your husband comes out from the hall, buttoning up his shirt. “you almost ready to go?”

“almost, ‘samu,” you say, slipping on a bracelet. your hands are shaking, and he notices it, too. today’s the third anniversary of atsumu’s death, and it’s also the date of osamu’s first big press conference. “he’d be so proud of you, you know.”

osamu smiles. “he would. he’d be proud of you, too.”

you laugh. “what for? for marrying his little brother?”

“no, he’d probably be kind of pissed at me,” osamu jokes, before coming to stand behind you. he wraps his hands around your waist. “he’d be proud of you for finding happiness, i think.”

“i am happy,” you say, tilting your head as osamu presses a kiss to your temples. there’s a beat of silence. “but i miss him.”

“i do, too.” osamu rests his chin on your head. “he probably misses us.”

“mm,” you say. “i think he might be having too much fun for that, actually.”

“maybe,” says osamu, and he leans forward to grab the keys from the counter. “i’m gonna go heat up the car, okay?”

“sounds good,” you say, as the cat dashes into the room with a meow. a nameplate that reads ‘tsumu’ dangles from his collar. “oh, hey kitty. i forgot to feed you. i’ll be out in a minute!”

after you fill the cat’s dish and pull on a cardigan over your dress, you slip outside, shivering in the night air. the sky is clear and full of stars, and as you walk to the car, you crane your neck up to see.

“hope you’re doing well, ‘tsumu,” you whisper to the gleaming constellations.

you still have things you want to say to him, even after all these years. you want to ask him how the weather in the cosmos is, and if the fruit salad is better up there. you want to ask if he’s read any good books lately, or if he’s seen how great osamu’s serve has gotten recently. you want to laugh with him.

most of all, though, you want to let him know that he was your miracle, too.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fanfiction #atsumu #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader

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hectabdr · 4 years ago

Text

Dragon Raja IV - Chapters 11 & 12 (Abridged)

Hi everyone!

Today's chapters are a little slower than the previous ones, but they have a lot of insight on Nono, Luminous and the nature of their relationship. I also kept more of the original dialog for the same reason.

BTW, this is the point where the illustrations suddenly stopped for some reason so... No more drawings :P

Previous chapters.

Chapter 11

A girl waited in the top lobby of the Black Prince International Financial Center. At 21 years old, Tu Xiaojiao was already known as the "Sophie Marceau of China". She was in that building to meet the legendary "Master Shao", the inheritor of this powerful organization. If anyone else in the world made Miss Tu wait for more than half an hour, she would leave the place immediately, but Mr. Shao was different, he could offer her the role of her life, so she decided to stay in the waiting room.

When the receptionist finally allowed her to enter Shao's office, she found him next to the window, reading a poem out loud. She had to wait for him to finish for fifteen minutes, her high heels started making her feet feel numb, wondering if he was mocking her, Shao didn't even notice her presence. To her dismay, once he finally saw her in his office, it didn't make much of a difference, since Shao only had one topic in his mind, his adored senior was back.

Miss Tu tried to be polite, and asked to know more about this "senior" girl. When Shao was younger, he had a girlfriend, she was actually one year younger than him, but she demanded to be referred as his senior and he obsessed over her for the rest of his life. He even showed miss Xiaojiao a picture of himself and his senior back when they were a couple. Tu Xiaojiao was confused, in the tiny photograph, there were two children, one looked like Shao and by his side, there was a girl who seemed completely indifferent towards him. This was cut from a kindergarten group photo, and he carried it in his wallet ever since.

Shao had everything at his disposal since he was born, his focus in the entertainment industry was nothing but a hobby. He could visit any place that he wanted, he could buy any piece of clothing and of course, he could date some of the most beautiful women in the world. But he didn't want any of them as his wife. The woman of his life had to be someone who would make him beg for her affection, someone who would make him kneel in her presence. The only woman who could make that to him, was Chen Motong.

Every time that Miss Chen came back to the country, he felt like a five year old all over again, but getting her heart wouldn't be an easy task. She acted cold and demanding, when she arrived he asked her out for dinner but she just wanted to borrow a car from him and left. He heard about an Italian man, apparently her boyfriend and he couldn't learn anything else about him, it was driving him crazy, but he received some information that brought some hope back into his eyes. Miss Chen had a friend in town, and he was in the hospital. Shao left his office with Miss Tu in it, on his way to meet Mr Luminous.

Young Lu was also disheartened because of Nono, although, his reasons were different. His 91st attempt to save her also ended in failure. When he realized that they were once again going to die, Nono desperately tried to make him react, but he lazily waited in the car seat for the whole scenario to restart, frustrated and annoyed, as the gravity of the situation slowly became less palpable. He looked to his side and saw Nono's face looking at him. Her expression was as ruthless as ever but in her eyes he saw deep sadness, he almost felt like hugging her before they died but the simulation ended. To him, death meant that he would have to start all over again, but for Nono, every single time it meant a genuine end.

To interrupt his depression, a young, short, overweight man entered his room. He called himself a friend of Miss Chen and Luminous thought for a second that she sent him there to get him out of the hospital, but Shao was there to speak.

He started making questions, in particular, who was this Italian scumbag that he heard about? Tragically for him, Luminous spoke highly of Caesar's fortune, personality and actions, and to make matters worse, he wasn't only Chen's boyfriend, but her fiancé.

A depressed Shao proceeded to tell an anecdote from his childhood. When he was studying in the United Kingdom, Shao felt belittled next to ehe aristocratic children that studied with him, so he started bragging about his own family's wealth and promising other kids money for listening to him, when he tried to show off in front of Nono, she beat him up and told him to call her "Senior Sister".

The school's Rugby matches also got violent, Shao played aggressively, so the other kids retaliated against his attitude by deliberately kicking him in the face and hitting him with the ball. His front teeth got broken as there was no coach present to stop them. He sat down on the grass, defeated, when Nono took his place in the match, she fearlessly rushed into a defense of fifteen boys while Shao swore to his heart that one day he would marry that girl, even if he had to kneel and crawl in front of her.

Shao compared himself to the protagonist form "The Great Gatsby", who desperately needed to be with his love interest, Miss Daisy.

-Why should a girl be with a man who needs her?

She should be with a man she needs. My senior sister doesn't need me, I am the one who needs her.

Before Shao left, Luminous reminded him of a scene in "Journey to the West" where Tang Sanzang found a silly monkey who lived behind a waterfall. The cowardly monkey recognized Tang's strength and left his hidden home to follow him around the world. There are two types of monkeys in the world, the smart ones that can survive out there on their own, and the silly ones, who need a master they look up to.

Shao understood his metaphor and he felt encouraged. Realizing he could trust the strange mental patient enough to untie one of his hands, Shao gave Luminous a can of beer and they toasted. When Shao left, Luminous took a syringe from the side table and injected himself with more sedatives. This was his 92nd attempt.

Shao returned to his office, motivated and lively.

-I met a new brother today!

He encouraged me to come back here, he's a philosopher and his words are very touching!

People living in mental hospitals are all experts in this kind of stuff.

He realized that he left without saying goodbye to Miss Tu, but his apology wasn't answered, because the girl in his office was Nono. She was drinking, looking tired, she didn't wear any makeup and silently stared at the window.

Shao was determined to win her over, but Nono answered most of his questions briefly and coldly. She didn't want to speak with him, she was just there to return the car keys and now she wanted to leave.

Shao's pitiful voice tone softened her attitude a little so she asked him for some gin with ice. Nono drank the whole glass in one sip and asked for a refill. She had another glass, and another.

- Senior sister, is someone bullying you?

- Who could possibly bully me?

- Usually no one, but aren't you engaged now?

- Caesar wouldn't do that, don't worry about it, just take care of yourself.

- Are you really going to marry an Italian? Those guys spend their money so recklessly!

- Could you give me a better reason not to marry him? Who are you to say those things? Stop messing around and just confess your intentions.

- I'm your boyfriend from kindergarten! If you gave me a chance instead I could be endlessly more confident and...

- You? "Endless"? Nono was so angry that she laughed.

Shao Kneeled and asked Nono to be his girlfriend instead. He kneeled in one knee, so she asked him to kneel on both like he used to, and he did, but not for begging, he used to do so as punishment. Nono didn't like his subservient attitude.

- We were just classmates, I was wrong to treat you so hardly, but you don't have to hold on to me, I am engaged and you could marry just anyone.

Shao kept begging, Nono deflected every single one of his arguments until he recited Luminous's "Journey to the west" reference. His delivery was incredible, but she had no reaction to it, she looked at her glass with tired eyes. She got up on her feet and entered the elevator.

After she left, Shao was avidly celebrating, he interpreted her reaction as progress and showed off in front of his employees.

Nono stopped at a small ramen restaurant to warm up her rain-soaked body. Chu Tianjiao was her last clue and she lost it. If Luminous was actually sick, why didn't she give up on him yet?

Why did she feel the need to insist on his case? This wasn't only about her, every moment she spent in the middle of nowhere, escaping from the secret party, she got Caesar in trouble. How was she supposed to explain this to them?

She had to admit that she cared too much about Luminous's well-being. She wouldn't doubt to give him her diving suit, she immediately called him last year when she and Caesar were overwhelmed by Scythe ferrets to warn him of the impending danger and now that the whole world was against him, she kept insisting on proving his sanity. Regarding his feelings for her, she comforted herself with positive thoughts. Who didn't have a crush on a senior girl at some point in his life?

Zero was great for him, so was Isabelle, if she had known Erii in person, Nono would have considered them to be "such a fucking perfect match".

Over the last few years, this petty boy had grown up, he became more energetic, better dressed and gained so much experience, yet he kept holding on to her. She left Shao's office without saying a word because she recognized those words belonged to Luminous. They were about Luminous.

- Chen motong, you're such a fool, you messed everything up.

Chapter 12

An exhausted Su Xiaoyao leaned back on her office chair, she had spent a long day on work meetings and in the middle of the night her phone kept ringing. This was her life ever since she had to leave school to take over her father's business. She had gained some weight ever since but no one really cared, she was still one of the top bachelorettes in the city and she had just accepted a blind date, excited to take a break.

During the student reunion, seeing Luminous made her cry a little. It wasn't because she used to have a crush on him during their high school years, she just realized that those carefree days would never repeat themselves. Back in the day, she and the other girls used to sit on the basketball courts to see Luminous play basketball. Even the air felt different.

Su took her high heels off and put her feet on her desk to take a quick nap, but her phone interrupted her attempt to display an urgent text message. It was Liu Miaomiao, her old rival in love.

- Su Xiaoyao, find a way to get here, quick! They put our senior brother in a mental hospital!

Game level: Gungir light, 101st load.

- So, where did you get that rocket launcher again?

- I found it under the seat...

The whole fight seemed extremely rehearsed by now, Luminous always knew exactly where to shoot, it almost looked like he could predict the future.

- Did you learn that in your special training? I want to take that special training too!

Nono slowly became the most problematic element in the simulations, she didn't retain her memories after every attempt like he did. This was probably the first time Luminous felt something other than absolute admiration towards her, she became a little annoying, but he couldn't really blame her. They got in the car and tried to escape, but one of the tires was damaged.

- Are you hungry? I just found some nuts in this car!

He knew Nono was trying to calm him but he was still a little anxious, he repeated the steps to replace the tire in his mind but the car-wheel escaped his hands and rolled over the highway.

His tantrum surprised Nono, who dropped her snacks all over the floor. Ming·Z paused time and got out of the car.

He noticed that Luminous asked to reset his last six attempts instead of waiting for his death, he seemed far more tired than usual after his conversation with Shao, it made him reflect about his feelings for Nono to the point of getting distracted in battle.

- First of all, I'm not the only monkey that she brought out from the waterfall, second, I am the one who needs her, she doesn't need me.

- Brother, I expected you to regret going to Cassell College, you wouldn't be so sad otherwise.

- I don't regret it, if I hadn't gone to Cassell College, I wouldn't know my senior brother nor my senior sister or the boss, nor would I know Finger, the Japanese "Lonesome George" brothers... And Erii.

Luminous ignored Ming·Z's snarky remarks and got a better hold of his feelings.

- I always ran after my senior sister, I like her so much that it makes me very sad that I can't be with her. Caesar was born with everything, he could have married any girl he liked but he picked the only one I cared about.

Suddenly I realized that I'm wrong, that was just wishful thinking on my part.

There are more people for me out there, Erii liked me, but Nono was the only one I had eyes for. Nono doesn't need me, I'm the one who feels at ease when I follow her, like she'll feel relieved when she marries the boss. She wouldn't feel like that if she were with me and to pursue her is to act on my most selfish side, why did my senior brother support me?

- Your senior brother wasn't that upright, don't you think?

- Finally, are you willing to admit that he's real?

- Okay okay, Johann Chu really does exist, but there is something wrong with him and you need to get him back"

- Then I'm relieved.

Ming·Z confirmed more things, the city was closed on all exits due to the weather conditions and the Nibelungen was invading their reality on a large scale.

- Thank you, Ming·Z·Lu. Why do you call yourself Ming·Z? You deliberately used my cousin's name"

- No, my name is Ming·Z·Lu, there has always been a Ming·Z·Lu in your life and that's me, not the fat boy in your uncle's house.

Luminous went back to the car, picked the dozens of floating snacks and put them back in Nono's palm one by one.

- Sister, don't worry, you will be fine, I will definitely find a way, I changed my mind, I will attend your wedding, I'll see you in your white dress holding orange flowers, walking on a red carpet full of happiness... Maybe you should throw the bouquet in my direction.

Three girls were sobbing next to his bed when he woke up, Chen Wenwen was the first face he recognized, followed by Su Xiaoyao and Liu Miaomiao. Su was one of the most influential persons in town, so she demanded that her old classmate got released from the hospital.

They took him out on a car and decided to stop on a luxurious bar. They all felt a little insecure about what they were wearing, so Su Xiaoyao asked her driver to bring them their old school uniforms.

Sitting at the bar, after multiple drinks, the girls kept reminiscing of their old days in high school, Luminous past in this reality was the same as Johann's, including his Saxophone recitals at the cultural festivals. He used to envy Johann so much back then...

He stood up and told everyone that he was going to the bathroom, but he changed back to his normal clothes and got out of the bar. A man with a motorized tricycle was waiting for potential passengers outside and Luminous gave him his expensive watch as insurance for borrowing his small vehicle.

He drove all the way to the Number 10 highway and entered the Nibelungen again. Odin was waiting for him far away, he didn't say a word but he slowly raised his lance. Luminous turned around and left the god's prison.

Back in his old apartment, Finger had befriended Luminous's aunt and kept doing shores for her. Nono came back to the place and they argued about their course of action.

- If I had known this was going to happen, I wouldn't have rescued him from that theater.

- Feels like you stepped in bubble gum and you can't take it off.

Finger suddenly left the room and came back with the news, Luminous had left the hospital with three old classmates. Nono grabbed an umbrella and ran out. She knew the bar and she knew about Su Xiaoyao, they weren't going to be hard to find.

By the time she arrived, the three girls were arguing after Luminous left. They actually tried to blame each other, the way they admired him was surprising to Nono. Suddenly, Luminous came back and justified his absence by saying that he went to a convenience store to get something to eat.

Nono watched them from the dark, feeling really stupid, there was a strange obsession that she couldn't let go of. In fact, she should have driven away the silly monkey that pestered her long ago, the more she helped him, the more he would rely on her. This wasn't good for any of them, but she couldn't bear to refuse.

She was afraid that he would end up crying alone in the wilderness, where no one could listen to him. She hoped that one day he could become one of those smart monkeys who run around happily, but maybe this silly monkey was smart from the beginning and she was pitying someone who didn't really need her.

She strolled under the heavy rain, her clothes were soaking and stuck to her body, it was a long way back to the uncle's house but she wanted to walk alone. She felt colder and colder and for the first time in her life she missed the Golden Iris Academy. She felt like going to a ramen stand again but there were no businesses in sight, however, there was a phone booth.

One call, that's all she needed to give away her location, Caesar made her memorize an emergency number long ago, it was the right thing to do, the person she should trust the most in this situation was not Finger or Luminous, but Caesar. Dialing felt like betraying her old classmates, but she started pressing the numbers.

"No, no, no, no, no, don't be like this, don't be like this"

Subconsciously, she looked aside and saw a small boy in the rain, looking at her from the other side of the glass. What was such a young boy doing out there on his own?

He was delicate and beautiful, like a porcelain doll.

- Are you looking for me? She asked.

The expressionless face of the boy slowly got horrifyingly distorted by the raindrops on the glass. She couldn't breathe due to an overwhelming sadness, so she opened the door but the boy was not there anymore. She took the calling card out of the booth and hanged up the phone.

Rome, Italy.

Caesar was waiting in front of a phone, he was under a lot of pressure, but the moment he received Nono's call, all of his problems would be over, yet the phone was silent.

The family elders felt like Luminous had stolen something that belonged to their heir, so they suggested that he cancelled his marriage.

- No, there are only two people in this world who can dissolve that engagement, Nono and me.

To avoid being put under heavy suspicion, he had to act calm and decisive, like he did a few days ago, when he released the monsters from the ice cellar to find the fugitives. Parsi entered the room and informed Caesar about the worsening weather conditions in Beijing, this type of climate phenomenons usually signaled the awakening of powerful dragons.

Luminous, the never-existing Johann Chu, the grim reaper, it was all starting to make sense. Caesar instructed Parsi to prepare his private jet and his desert eagles, he also dissuaded Parsi from going with him. At the lionheart club, president Babru informed the former president and dragon slayer Abdullah Abbas that Caesar wanted to team up with him to hunt the dragon down.

Intrigued, Abdullah accepted and instructed everyone to get ready.

To be continued, final update on Monday.

#Dragon Raja #dragon raja novel #luminous #ming z lu #nono #caesar gattuso #johann chu

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messiejessiesblog · 3 years ago

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Thrift Stores, Clearance Bins and other fun places!

Okay, Okay...my idea of fun may seem strange to you.

Or maybe not. After all, you are reading this blog about refurbishing old items.

So where to find those items...

The title of this post says it all!

Honestly I’m not really an official bargain hunter. I don’t have a lot of time for shopping or rambling through flea markets. I shop on an ‘as-needed’ basis....when I need something, I go out and try to find it. And depending on what I need, I could very likely end up somewhere like Goodwill.

For example, my oldest son needed a shelf with pegs...the first place I went was a thrift store in my town. And I found this...

$4.99!! I bought a can of spray paint, $4 (love, love, love spray paint) and it went from light blue to dark brown and then onto the wall. Total cost $8!

My son also needed an office chair...

...so I got this at Goodwill, $15.99! A nice leather chair in perfect condition! This was truly one of my luckier finds since I didn’t have to do anything to it!

And my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE Goodwill find:...my dining room table!

This was an unbelievable find! I needed a bigger dining room table, but had almost nothing to spend on one. I happened to be at Goodwill and walked past a table that was covered with piles of clothes. I accidentally dropped my wallet on the floor, and when I bent down to get it, I noticed the gorgeous legs on this table. I cleared off all the stuff on top and saw a beautiful tabletop in need of some TLC. Then I saw the price tag...only $49! I bought it immediately!

But I had plenty of work to do...lots of spots on the tabletop had to be sanded down by hand, I had to recover the entire table in polyurethane, one of the corners had completely chipped off the left foot, and the legs were covered in children’s stickers. Once I got the table into my garage, I started pulling the stickers off the legs, and that’s when I noticed the “Pottery Barn” sticker...I couldn’t believe my luck at finding a Pottery Barn table at Goodwill for $49.

I spent the next week giving this table a new life....and in an upcoming post I’ll go into detail about that process...but for now, you can see the end result in the photo above!!!

However, thrift stores aren’t the only places to get a good deal. Just look around the clearance bins of your local stores.

A few days ago I needed a large picture frame.....and I found this at Hobby Lobby in the clearance section....

It was in perfect condition (so I’m not even sure why it was in clearance, but who cares!), and the best part...the clearance price!

Before clearance, it was...

Not a bad deal!

Kirkland’s is another place where you can really dig out some good clearance deals...like this entry table...

I found it in the back of the store, marked-down because of a large scratch on the front. Notice any scratch? That’s because I took care of it with a simple furniture marker. More on those tomorrow.....

I guess my point is that almost anything is fixable and you can find a good deal almost anywhere if you keep your eyes open. Many stores have clearance bins near the back and you never know what you might find. It’s like a treasure hunt. That’s part of the fun! See, I told you we’d have fun!

#fun #hobbylobby #bargains #clearance #goodwill #thrifstorefinds #spraypaint #kirklands #refurbish #furnituremarker #furniture

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jadekitty777 · 5 years ago

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Umbrella

@chiherah drew the cutest Fair Game sketch of Clover and Qrow sharing an umbrella at my request. And thus, I got inspired.

Rating: K+

Pairing: Qrow/Clover

Word Count: 1900

Ao3 Link: Umbrella

Summary: It’s pouring out and Qrow has no umbrella. Luckily, the cute, new guy at the apartment complex is willing to share his. [Modern AU]

Qrow liked to think of his mornings as chaotically organized.

That is to say that he got up at 6:40 sharp every morning, spent 5 minutes on downing a burning cup of instant coffee, 12 minutes on his bathroom routine, and was out the lobby doors of the apartment complex by 7:02 to catch the 7:10 bus that was two blocks away. He had it down to an art, always was on time without failure every day; and though he’d probably benefit from turning his clock back even five minutes to avoid rush, why change something that wasn’t broken?

Problem was, being so precise with his schedule didn’t leave for any opportunity to make last minute adjustments. Like, for example, grabbing an umbrella. Or a coat.

Qrow stood in the foyer that acted as a go-between to the lobby and the outside world, sourly staring at the sheets of rain coming down in thick torrents from the sky. As he pulled out his phone, hoping by some miracle he had three minutes to spare, he stepped aside as he heard the door open behind him to get out of the way of whomever it was.

7:02 AM laughed back at him.

“Shit.” He grumbled.

“Everything alright?”

He jumped, looking over to the person who’d joined him in the foyer. Brunette hair, teal eyes, and an easy-going smile greeted him in return. He instantly recognized him as the new guy who’d taken Maria Calavera’s old apartment when she’d moved out into assisted living earlier on this month (A fact he was a bit salty about – he liked that old codger). Qrow also happened to already know his name because, by habit one day, he went to go get Maria’s mail for her and found a new name etched on the box: Clover Ebi.

He’d caught a few glances of him in passing, but this was his first up-close contact and the realization hit him hard over how unforgivably handsome he was.

“Uh, yeah.” He avoided his gaze when he realized he was staring. “Just, forgot it was going to rain, is all.”

“Oh. That’s unfortunate.”

Qrow snorted. “Buddy, that’s my middle name. Anyways, see ya.” He offered him a wave before walking into the storm. He ducked his head as the rain instantly assaulted him, feeling cold spikes hit along the back of his neck and exposed arms. He sighed, crossing his arms and hunching over as he started his miserable walk to the bus stop, knowing he was going to be drenched by the time he got there.

Or so he thought, until a shadow fell over him, the rain blocked from above.

“You know, I had thought you were going to go back up and grab a coat at least. You’ll catch your death of cold going out like that.”

He tilted his head up, spotting the turquoise umbrella with little, happy aquatic creatures patterned along it, then to the one who had offered it. “Don’t have time. I’ll miss the bus.”

Clover’s smile hadn’t faltered, even as he was pelted by the rain. “Where ya headed? I’ll walk you there.”

Despite the chill in the air, he could feel heat creeping up his neck. “Don’t you have anywhere else to be?”

Wow, real grateful. Good job Qrow. A+ social skills.

But if it offended the other, he didn’t show it, stepping closer so he could hide under the umbrella as well. “Actually, I’m running early. I don’t mind, really.”

“I uh, well, sure, thanks.” He said articulately, his sociability surely continuing to impress.

“Lead the way.” As they started down the street, shoulders nearly touching, he offered. “I’m Clover, by the way.”

“Qrow.” He replied. With his profile now in his sight-line, it made him realize his left ear was pierced, a little silver shamrock twinkling there. Huh, cute. “Soo,” He drawled, feigning obliviousness, “You just moved in, didn’t you?”

“Yep, all the way from Montana.” Clover replied.

“Montana?” He felt his eyebrows shoot towards his hairline, easily picturing lush forests and grand mountain ranges and snow fall ten feet deep. He had to wonder if the guy also had a deer head mounted on the wall and a bearskin rug in his living room. “That’s quite a move. Why’d you come out all this way? It not like Wilmington is the Los Angeles of North Carolina.”

Clover laughed. It was a very nice sound that had Qrow’s heart pattering harder than the rain along their nylon shelter. “That’s an interesting way of putting it. Honestly though? The beach.”

“Okay, fair.” He conceded. Wrightsville Beach was less than an hour away from here, and was the one of the east coast’s most beautiful tourist attractions for a reason. The stunning, deep blue water and wide sandy banks were easy attractions to an appreciative eye and had a calming effect on the soul. Back during his more insomniac years in Uni, Qrow would oftentimes head down there just to capture the sunrises on his easel.

“I’ve always loved the sea, so when my job offered a relocation opportunity out here, I knew I’d be stupid not to take it.” Clover continued. “Kind of hoping for some time off to rent a boat, maybe do some fishing.”

Well, now the aquatic creatures above them made more sense.

Qrow stuffed his hands into his pockets, trying to keep them warm. “You fish?”

“I know, it’s about the most boring thing you’ve ever heard, right?” He joked.

He rolled his shoulders in a shrug, focusing more on the cracks in the concrete as he hesitantly admitted, “Actually, I uh, I bird watch.”

Immediately as the words flew out of his mouth, he regretted them. Of all the things he could have said! What was he thinking, telling this cute guy about his dumb, weird hobby? Now, he probably thought he was about as drab as a broken lamp.

“Really?”

…So then why did he sound so awestruck?

Qrow swallowed his nerves. “Yeah, my parents were ornithologists and they were a little obsessed with their work. It’s why they named me and my sis after birds. Raven hated it.” He did another shoulder roll, feeling that blush creeping up on him again. “But my parents were always so fascinated and one day I decided I wanted to try and see what was so special about ‘em and well, I didn’t care for all the science and stuff, but I liked watching them fly and build nests. I even learned how to do a few calls.”

“Really?” Clover’s eyes widened. “Can I hear one?”

“What? No!” Now he was positive the blush was on his face.

“I won’t laugh, I promise.”

He just shook his head even more vehemently.

“Alright, then I guess I’ll just have to improvise.”

What?

Clover cupped a hand over his mouth, took a deep breath, and then let out a series of loud squawks. “Caw-caw! Caw-caw!”

Qrow watched him a moment, briefly flabbergasted, and then just started to laugh. “What in the hell are you doing?”

“Bird-calling.” He replied innocently.

“That is not bird calling.”

“Well then,” He lent forward in the small space the umbrella offered, his smile coy. “Guess I got to learn from the master.”

Yep. He was red a tomato, for sure. “Alright, jeez, you swindler. I’ll do one.” Ignoring the way Clover’s face lit up like a damn Christmas tree, Qrow regretfully unearthed his hands from their temporary warmth. He thought over which one to do that was both easy for him but also impressive. “Okay, this’ll be a canary.”

He’d learned how to do that one in high school, and it taken him months to get it just right. The moment he did though, he belted it out randomly in the halls, enjoying the slight chaos it caused the other kids as they tried to find the source of the noise. Just like he used to back then, he pressed the pinkies of both hands to his lips, curled back his tongue a bit, and whistled through them, vibrating his vocal chords just enough to make the sharp trill of the bright yellow bird, the sound easily piercing over the falling rain.

Unlike his classmates though, Clover wasn’t fooled by who had made the noise. “Wow.” He breathed. “That was spectacular.”

“Ehehe, not really.” Qrow rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yes really.” He knocked his arm gently with the umbrella stem. “Don’t cut yourself so short. I bet that was hard to learn how to do.”

How was this guy so nice? Helplessly, he scrambled to respond, “I mean, not as hard as the seagull.” At the other’s sudden, eager grin, he gave a firm, “No.”

“Aah, alright.” Clover surrendered, “We’re almost at the stop anyways.”

Qrow glanced forward, spotting the familiar black structure just a few feet away. As the approached it, he ducked under the curved roof that functioned as a blissful shelter form the rain, and turned back to the man who had gotten him here, realizing this was probably goodbye.

He was surprised by how disappointed he suddenly felt.

“Uh, thanks, for, you know.” He said, gesturing around himself as words again failed him. There was a reason he never took public speaking in school.

“It was no trouble, really.” Clover replied, that easygoing smile back on his face.

He crossed his arms, rubbing the exposed skin idly. “Guess I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah – oh, wait.” Suddenly, the other stepped into the shelter with him, flipping his umbrella upside down and leaning it up against the bench. Then in one smooth motion, he yanked the green hoodie up and over his back, running a hand through his hair to fix the little quiff at the front.

Qrow’s brain short-circuited because whoa, muscles.

Clover held it out to him. “Here, you can borrow this.”

“Huh?” He looked from those nicely toned arms to the offering to his eyes, suddenly catching up to the situation. “No, I couldn’t.”

“I have time to go back and get another. Besides,” He winked, short circuiting Qrow’s brain again, “It’s not like you don’t know where I live.”

Oh. Oooh.

Qrow was experienced enough to recognize the gesture for what it really was: a surefire guarantee that they’d run into each other again.

Now how could he ever refuse that?

“Suppose I do.” He quipped back as suave as he could. He took the hoodie, pulling it on. It smelt like pine, heady and rich and despite their similar heights, it still dwarfed his leaner frame. Some of the other’s body heat still lingered in the fabric and he couldn’t help but melt into the much-needed warmth. He fingered one of the strings, trying to remain casual as he subtly offered, “I’ll return it tonight. Around…?”

“6:30.” Clover rested the umbrella back on his shoulder, expression just as sly. “Maybe we could catch some dinner too?”

Qrow felt his stomach flutter, face easing into a grin. “I’d like that.”

“Then it’s a date.” As he stepped back out into the rain, he winked at him again. “See you soon pretty bird.”

“See you.” He returned, watching the other leave, eyes scanning along his backside and appreciating the view.

Despite the dreary beginnings, it was shaping up to be a great morning after all.

#qrow branwen #clover ebi #fair game #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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ranma-rewatch · 4 years ago

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Episode 6-Akane's Lost Love... These Things Happen, You Know

Hey ho person reading this blog. I am continuing my journey through Ranma 1/2, this week on the sixth episode. This one looks to be the end of this little two-part story arc, something I knew without having to look at the episode guide because I’ve never forgotten what happens in episode seven. I...legitimately don’t know what’s going to happen with this one, aside from Ranma learning about Tofu’s thing for Kasumi, and getting to see the two interact. Next paragraph, I’ll have rewatched the episodes and will be ready to regale you with what occurred.

As expected, this episode starts right where the last one ended. Though unlike I was expecting, Akane just flat out tells Ranma it’s Kasumi that Dr. Tofu likes rather than drawing it out further. Ranma isn’t sure how she knows that, but then the doctor himself shows up and starts helping Ranma with the baseball injury that sent him there. Dr. Tofu jokes about the injury clearly being from Akane, only for her to say something to confirm the idea. She’s clearly bothered by the implication of it, that she isn’t a very feminine person, but Dr. Tofu clearly doesn’t mind that she’s more of a tomboy.

Then Kasumi shows up, and the old lady waiting her turn in the lobby books it. As she leaves, she runs into an old man who was going to see Dr. Tofu, and tells him that Kasumi is there. It’s clear that Kasumi’s effects on Dr. Tofu are common knowledge to his patients. What are those effects? Well, she enters the room with him, Ranma, and Akane to give him back that book mentioned last episode and to give him a present.

In a millisecond, Dr. Tofu goes from being a kind, seemingly wise doctor to an utter buffoon. Any iota of good sense in him vanishes when Kasumi is in his presence, causing him to do things like addressing his panda assistant as Ranma or mistaking a present’s wrapping for being a mask. Akane leaves right away, and Ranma ends up following, but not until the silly version of Dr. Tofu has bent Ranma’s neck in a weird direction.

Akane is out on the edge of the water of a...river? Stream? Reservoir? I never know what to call those things. Anyway, she’s tossing rocks when Ranma shows up, and he’s clearly trying to cheer her up, following her around to try and help. It’s then that Akane perks up, asking Ranma if he actually likes her. He denies it, but she seems to be in better spirits, tricking Ranma into activating his curse by abusing the fact he tends to leap without looking where he’ll land. There’s a moment when he sees her laughing that the show focuses on, something Ranma really takes notice of.

Instead of heading home, Akane asks Ranma to lend her money for food, and they get some fast food together. Not long after sitting in a park to eat it, Akane’s mood sours again. She can’t help comparing herself negatively to Kasumi, and tells Ranma more details about how badly Dr. Tofu loves her, how it makes him act. This is when Ranma says the wrong thing, making an idle remark about her heart being broken, and that is it for Akane. They start arguing, Akane clearly hurt by Ranma’s cavalier words, but after Akane shuts down his attempts to offer comfort, Ranma bluntly tells Akane she’s going to have to get over it. She tells him that he has no clue what she’s going through, which seems to strike a nerve for Ranma, who asks how she knows that’s the case. Akane leaves, telling Ranma not to follow her.

Ranma goes to see his dad for hot water, and he uncurses himself with it as well, asking what’s gone on between Ranma and Akane. Genma makes it clear that the problem at hand is that sometimes one of them says something that hurts the other without them realizing it, and that he knows that pain. For an example, he tells a story about some girl who he was dating when he was young, who he broke up with. In the process, younger Genma talked on and on about how much better his new girlfriend was, getting him conked in the head in the past and the present.

Still, with that idea in mind, Ranma heads home. Akane is training, trying to settle her mood, when Ranma starts lightly sparring with her. When she gets annoyed he isn’t taking it seriously, and defending the fact that she likes to be angry sometimes, Ranma tells her she’s actually really cute when she smiles. This stuns her enough for him to poke her, and we cut from her getting annoyed in the moment to her ruminating on it all afterwards, in the bath. Akane seems surprised at the idea that anyone would find her attractive, or that smiling helps, even smiling in a mirror afterwards in her room. Ranma appears in the window, makes a snarky comment, Akane punches his lights out, end of episode.

This episode was a lot better than I expected going into it. I hadn’t forgotten any of the Dr. Tofu stuff, which I’ll just say right now I’m not a huge fan of, but the Ranma/Akane aspects of the episode were very strong, at least for me. I feel like there’s definitely a lot of Ship Teasing, though considering the rest of Ranma’s harem hasn’t been introduced yet, that’s to be expected.

This was the second time so far, that I can remember, where Ranma jumped without looking, only to realize he’d be landing in water. It’s a gag, sure, but it reinforces the character trait of Ranma’s that he’s a literally ‘leap before he looks’ kind of guy. It’s easy to then tie that in to his behavior that makes their argument worse, the same thing he often does to set Akane off: he leaps without looking. Ranma has a tendency to just say things without thinking through how the other person might feel about it first, and that often leads to him touching other people’s vulnerable spots without realizing it.

There’s also a bit of symmetry between the two of them: Ranma taking in that moment of the happy, smiling Akane, and Akane thinking back to Ranma telling her she looked really pretty when she smiled. Even as it becomes clear they have a lot to get past, there are more hints that each is starting to grow to like the other.

More fodder in that department can be seen when Ranma gets annoyed that Akane assumes he has no clue how she’s feeling. While one can read it as general indignation, it can also be seen as him getting annoyed that she has noticed he is feeling the same kind of thing. Namely, that Akane is so in love with Dr. Tofu that she isn’t really noticing him. I could be pulling that interpretation out of my shipping ass, but it’s just something I saw this time around. Sorry that most of my content for this one was about Ranma/Akane stuff, I can’t really control my inner shipper.

For this week’s character spotlight, I decided I might as well get Dr. Tofu out of the way now. I feel like I’ve kind of made it clear already, but I don’t really care about Dr. Tofu that much. He’s a fairly bland character, especially for this show, and the fact that, as far as I can recall, he basically slowly fades from the anime over time makes sense to me. I get what they were going for, and he does elicit some interesting development from Akane, but as a guy in his own right, he doesn’t do anything for me.

Still, this is his spotlight, so let me look into his voice actors. In the English Dub, his voiced by Ian James Corlett, who...did a lot of 90’s stuff? Honestly, not a lot there that peaks my interest. Oh, wait, what? His daughter Claire Corlett, who is a voice actress, is Sweetie Belle? ...that is pretty cool. Technically speaking, he was only the voice of Dr. Tofu for the first six and a half seasons, after that someone else took over, but I genuinely don’t recall that happening so we can discuss that when we get to it. In the original Japanese, he’s played by Yūji Mitsuya. In contrast to his American counterpart, Yūji has been in a billion things, including once again Japanese dubs of American media. In Yūji’s case, he was Marty in Back to the Future, Jack in Will & Grace, and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart from Amadeus.

What are they like as this character? Well, to compare and contrast, Ian plays Dr. Tofu as more warm and kind, but otherwise normal sounding, even when he’s in Kasumi-induced silliness. Yūji instead gives him a higher voice, and when he’s being ridiculous, that adds a lot to the idea that he’s now just a blundering buffoon. Their performances actually do feel rather distinct, and trend that character towards slightly different readings. I’d say I mostly prefer Ian’s, but that’s just because I don’t get a lot out of the humor of Dr. Tofu anyway, so the more silly Yūji performance doesn’t do a lot for me.

I should also say here that, to my amazement, Tofu is not his last name. His name is apparently Tofu Ono. This kind of baffles me. When people, at least here in America, talk about a doctor, they use the last name after the Dr. prefix. And in the Japanese version, I thought they were calling him ‘Tofu’ a lot, but as his personal name rather than his family name, wouldn’t they be more likely to call him ‘Ono’, since that’s generally what people do in Japan? Am I missing something? I’m probably missing something.

Name issues aside, the thing I will say I appreciate about Dr. Tofu is that, well, I get why Akane likes him. Aside from being a marital artist (though that quality of his remains mostly told and not shown), he helps people, and he doesn’t try to tell Akane she’s wrong for being who she is. As much as Akane is down on the fact that she has more masculine hobbies and doesn’t always act ladylike, Dr. Tofu calls her ‘spirited’ and compliments those aspects of her personality. The very fact Akane’s oldest sister is the ultimate picture of traditional femininity probably hasn’t helped her, and Dr. Tofu’s overt affection for Kasumi probably just makes that worse. Nonetheless, the doctor appreciates Akane for who she is, rather than who she could be.

Going into this episode, I was expecting to set it down at the bottom of the pack, but I’m such a sucker for the chemistry between Ranma and Akane that I have to put it higher. How high? Well, I’d say it’s the second best episode so far, only topped by the second episode because that one was just so dang delightful. That puts the current rankings as:

Episode 2: School is No Place for Horsing Around

Episode 6: Akane's Lost Love... These Things Happen, You Know

Episode 4: Ranma and...Ranma? If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Another

Episode 5: Love Me to the Bone! The Compound Fracture of Akane's Heart

Episode 1: Here’s Ranma

Episode 3: A Sudden Storm of Love

The odd numbered episodes haven’t been faring as well, that’s for sure. I don’t think that streak will continue though, because next week is episode seven, “Enter Ryoga, the Eternal ‘Lost Boy’”, and oh boy I cannot wait for that! See you all then!

#episode 6 #Akane's Lost Love... These Things Happen You Know #ranma 1/2 #ranma saotome #akane tendo #doctor tofu #anime analysis #anime rewatch

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rpdrficexchange · 5 years ago

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Stuck (craquaria - mollyroll)

Summary: It wasn’t exactly love at first sight. It took a faulty elevator and a lengthy chat to realize how good they could be together.

A/N: Happy holidays everyone!!

This was written for @tohkkis with lots of love, hope you like it <3 <3

I had so so much fun with the plot bunny

Thanks to missy and my lovely sis lena for the beta read!!

ao3 link - moodboard

2303 words

&&& feel free to poke me at @aqmollyroll <3

Brianna had always had a soft spot for the Christmas season, even if she didn’t celebrate it. She was 5 when her mum first told her the meaning behind the phrase imprinted on her wrist in loopy, delicate writing.

Everyone is born with an inscription on their left wrist, a message that will vanish when their soulmate says the words to them. Their second half; their perfect match.

When Brianna was younger, her friends used to tease her for having an unusual mark. It was normal to have romantic phrases, but Brianna felt very proud of her words.

Have I told you how much I despise Christmas shopping?

It was a blessing to know roughly when it would happen. A hopeless romantic, every single year she waited anxiously for December, and was disappointed when January came along and the words remained unchanged on her skin.

This year was no exception. She had volunteered to cover the Christmas Eve and Christmas Day shifts at the coffee shop so her two other coworkers could have time off with their families. She didn’t mind, being the sole barista and cashier was exhausting, but helping her friends made her warm and fuzzy inside.

So when she dragged herself all the way home on the 24th, nearing midnight, she wanted nothing more than to eat her mother’s cooking and then slide into bed until the next day. In a single motion, she entered the elevator and pressed the button for the tenth floor. The doors were closing when out of the corner of her eye she spotted a figure entering the lobby, carrying a veritable tower of presents.

“Hold the elevator!” The girl was stumbling; the boxes in her hands obscured her vision and she was having a lot of trouble keeping them balanced.

Brianna didn’t think twice, she ran over, determined to help in whatever way she could. She took a couple of boxes off the top of the tower, enough so the other girl could see where she was walking, and helped her inside the elevator.

Once the doors closed, she turned to ask the other girl what floor she needed to go.

“Ten is good, thanks”

Brianna knew her. Her name was Aquaria, if memory served her well. She fidgeted where she stood, feeling inadequate in her stained pink unicorn sweater when Aquaria looked as though she had been ripped off the pages of Vogue. Both of them had grown up in the same building, the same floor, two doors down from each other, but they had never really interacted. Brianna probably knew her mums better than she knew Aquaria, and that was saying a lot.

The elevator had started moving by the time she sneaked a glance at Aquaria and found her looking at herself in the mirror. To tell the truth, she had never really liked the younger girl. She had always thought Aquaria was distant, self-centered, and haughty. When she left their small town some years back (“She’s going to be a model!” her taller, sweeter mum had once told her upon a chance meeting in the hallway) it only reaffirmed Brianna’s preconceptions about her. She thought she was too good for-

There was a hitch as the elevator climbed, then a shrill metallic sound. Suddenly, it shuddered and ground to a shaking halt. The lights turned off.

“What the fuck?!” Thumps echoed in the darkness as what Brianna guessed were boxes fell to the floor. Aquaria launched herself at the control panel, frantically looking for the alarm button.

“Uh… it won’t work…” Brianna bent to set the gifts she was carrying neatly on the carpet, then sat down. “The elevator maintenance crew was supposed to come this week but-”

Aquaria banged on the door, then groaned when, predictably, nothing happened. “You have got to be kidding me! Tonight, of all nights!?”

Brianna shrugged, then realized there was no point in the gesture. “I mean, we probably won’t be here for long.”

She heard the rustle of fabric, then a dull thud as Aquaria presumably slid down onto the carpet. Her eyes were still getting used to the dark when a flash of light dazzled her. Aquaria had turned on her phone. She fidgeted with it for a few seconds, then threw it into a pile of boxes in frustration.

“Could you call my mum? Your mum? Someone? Anyone?” Illuminated by the faint glow of her phone, Aquaria looked like she was going to cry.

Brianna knew her phone had run out of battery hours ago, but she hoped for a Christmas miracle. She pulled it out of her bag and, as expected, it was dead.

“I knew I should have bought a SIM card at the airport, fuck my life.” Aquaria half heartedly thumped her head against the floor length mirror behind her.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure we’ll be out in no time.” Brianna couldn’t find it in her heart to complain about being tired when the other girl seemed so distraught.

“I guess… urgh… it’s just been a long day.” Aquaria turned on her phone’s flashlight so they would at least have a light source.

“Same… long, long day.”

For years Aquaria had seemed like a stone statue, unapproachable and perfectly poised. Seeing her trying so hard to keep herself in check was weird, to say the least. She was human, after all. Brianna felt bad for having assumed so many things about her, it was unlike herself to think the worst of others but for some reason she had done so anyway when it came to Aquaria.

They spent a few moments in uncomfortable silence when Aquaria began talking unprompted.

“I took a red eye flight from Paris yesterday… I was hoping to surprise Mum and Mum for Christmas but… the flight was delayed and… I barely had time to buy some presents and…”

“I’m sure they’ll be delighted to see you anyway."

Aquaria rubbed her eyes, smudging her perfect makeup. "You’re probably right… sorry about that… Mum always says I run my mouth whenever I’m stressing too much about stuff…”

Brianna smiled what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “You’re really close with them, that’s sweet.”

“Not really, I only see them once a year.” Aquaria crossed her legs. “Don’t get me wrong, I miss them. I’m just so swamped by work I can barely have time off.”

“They probably like you better because they don’t see you as often.” Brianna’s eyes opened wide when she noticed what she had said.

Rather than take offence, Aquaria laughed. “I guess you’re right.”

“I mean,” still somewhat flustered, Brianna tried to correct her blunder, “if they’re anything like mine… my mum’s been pestering me for years to move out and get my own place already!”

Aquaria’s smile was really pretty. Prettier than she thought possible for someone with a resting bitch face.

“I remember seeing you around, I think. You’re from 1006 aren’t you?”

“That would be me.”

“Nice to meet you properly, then. I’m Aquaria from 1008.” She held out her hand and Brianna took it.

Fearing she would come off as creepy, she bit back an ‘I know’. Instead, she went for something simpler. “I’m Brianna."

—–

“So.. what’s your deal?”

They had spent several minutes in silence. Aquaria had been looking through her pictures, or something, Brianna honestly hadn’t been paying attention. She had gotten bored of inspecting her fingernails and had closed her eyes for what seemed like just a second.

“Excuse me?”

Aquaria shrugged. “Job, hobbies and whatnot. Small talk to pass the time. You can start… if you want to, I mean… I don’t know.”

“Uh, sure.” Brianna quickly rubbed sleep out of her eyes and shifted where she sat. “I work at a coffee shop three blocks down… nothing too interesting, really. I’m pretty sure you have better stories than me.”

Aquaria scoffed. “I might be a model or whatever, but that doesn’t mean my life is interesting. Mostly just routine, boring.”

“What brands have you worked with, lately?”

She seemed bored, like she had been asked that question a million times before. “Moschino-”

Brianna’s eyes were wide open. “Moschino?!”

“Yeah, we did a photoshoot for-”

Brianna gave a slight shove to Aquaria’s shoulder. “And that’s not a big deal?!”

Aquaria looked at a loss for words, she simply shrugged and changed the topic. More than haughty, she seemed clueless. Like she didn’t have a filter, and she didn’t realize the effect her words could have on others. It didn’t come out of maliciousness, rather ignorance. And that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“Uh, what do you usually do for Christmas?”

“Jewish. We don’t do Christmas.” Brianna shrugged. “I usually take on solo shifts though, to help out my coworkers.”

The phone fell out of Aquaria’s hands and they were plunged into darkness. She quickly recovered, fumbled with it, and turned the flashlight back on.

“Uh… is something the matter?”

“Y-Yeah… yeah it’s all good.” Her face was carefully blank, but her voice sounded panicked. “I-It’s really nice of you… to help out… your coworkers…”

There was something clearly not right there, but Brianna didn’t press it.

Conversation rose and fell between them. They talked about the holidays, traditions, family, fond memories… Sometimes things got too deep and personal, but Brianna found she didn’t particularly mind. It felt natural, talking to Aquaria, even when she barely knew her, she felt oddly comfortable around her.

There was something else about her, something that had changed in the short time they spent been together. It was something about the way she smiled like she knew something Brianna didn’t, how she played with her hair and looked at Brianna below her lashes. How she made Brianna’s mouth feel dry, and how her mere presence sucked all the air out of the room.

When she asked about past relationships, which would normally be considered a taboo subject for mere acquaintances, Brianna told her all about them, anyway.

“So you haven’t met your soulmate yet?” Aquaria all but purred, pointing with her head at Brianna’s exposed wrist.

“Uh, no.” She fixed the cuff of her sweatshirt over the inscription. It was far too dark for Aquaria to read the small print, but covering it felt appropriate.

“How do you want them to be?”

“I mean, I like the thought of having a fated soulmate.” Brianna was thankful for the low light that hopefully concealed her blush. Aquaria was flirting and it wasn’t fair.

“But if you could choose their traits, what would you wish for?”

“Well…uh…” She was far too distracted by the other girl slowly inching forward, “Openness? Uh… warmth?”

“Have you ever considered leaving this town?” Her fingers danced over her left sweater sleeve.

“Yeah but… why are you asking me all these things?”

“No reason!” suddenly flustered, Aquaria recoiled back to her own end of the elevator.

If she continued whatever it was she was doing, Brianna wasn’t going to survive this. And it would be entirely her own fault for maybe hoping that something might happen between them. She hadn’t exactly waited for her soulmate, having had a couple partners in the past, but it always felt wrong to hook up with anyone in December, when her soulmate was so close but so far away.

Thankfully, nothing further happened after that. They sort of drifted into a companionable silence, and eventually Brianna noticed Aquaria leaning against the mirror on the wall with her eyes closed, head slumped to a side, breathing relaxed.

She should probably get some shut eye herself. It had been a very long and confusing day.

—–

Neither woman knew exactly how long they’d been stuck by the time the lights finally turned on.

Brianna opened her eyes, blearily, to see Aquaria pull down on her own sleeves.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” She smiled at Brianna as she nonchalantly stretched out her long limbs.

“What time is it?” Brianna was still feeling too sleepy to react further

Aquaria checked her phone. “Dead. I’d guess around 4am.”

The elevator started moving again, jerkily at first, then smoothly until they finally stopped at the tenth floor.

Aquaria had clearly spent some time awake already, she had stacked the presents lying on the floor into neat piles and seemed to be trying to figure out how to carry them out all at once.

As she lifted a couple boxes into her arms, she turned to Brianna.

“Have I told you how much I despise Christmas shopping?”

Brianna was stunned silent. Suddenly jerked fully awake, her mind had drawn a complete blank.

Aquaria didn’t notice, the doors opened and two blondes jumped straight in and hugged her, smothering her, fussing over her, and making her drop what she held in the process.

Brianna’s arms moved as if they had a mind of their own. She pulled on her left sleeve and-

It was gone. No trace of the inscription remained. The words she had grown to love had vanished in seconds.

When she finally came to, her neighbours were ushering her soulmate down the hallway, into their home and she would never see her again and-

“Aquaria?!” Brianna all but ran out of the elevator and tripped over something. She would have fallen flat on her face if someone hadn’t stepped in to hold her by the arm. (She hadn’t even seen the maintenance workers, looking amusedly at the scene in front of them. Or their tools, scattered about.)

“Yeah?”

“Would you-” she lowered her voice, suddenly self-conscious about yelling in the dead of night where everyone could hear her. “Would you like to hang out sometime?”

That was a stupid thing to say, Aquaria was gorgeous and popular, she had surely been asked out in better and cooler ways and-

She smiled.

“I’d love to!”

#rpdr christmas fic exchange #Posted Fics #craquaria #rpdr fanfiction

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cmtrydrve · 5 years ago

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hey ! my name’s link , i go by he/they pronouns , am 21+ & live in the cst timezone ! my only personality trait is being a bts , sment & girl groups enthusiast . i’m an aries sun with a pisces moon , which means i can be aggro , am always loud & obnoxious , but am a secretly sensitive softy , so plz be nice to me !!! this is my child , mikey , who’s stuck in 2006 & never grew out of his emo phase ( take that , mom ! ) . he’s also an aries , because my jjks always end up like that . hopefully , you’ll love him as much as i already do ! under the cut , you’ll find some misc . info & wanted connections . here are links to his dossier page & his pinterest board , which will hopefully give you some deeper insight . i’m excited to be here & write with you all ! like this if you’d like to plot & i’ll fly to your ims , but also feel free to add me on d*scord ( it’s easier for me as well ) : no brain only loving bts#6669 !

— jeon jungkook. he/they. demiboy. | was that michael “mikey” kwon i just saw in the hideaway lobby ? i hear the twenty-two year old spends most of their time working as a record store clerk / studying communications , but i’ve always just seen them dyeing their hair different colors with kool-aid . they live in 3c and i often see them in the halls. they always give me a vibe of getting into arguments online , an entirely black wardrobe and drinking six cups of coffee to make it through the day .

misc . info :

his parents are both very hip artists who met & fell in love while attending art school. they’re both very modern kind of parents, which meant that mikey grew up around a lot of self-expression (& being told to try it for himself), paint everywhere & pot.

growing up, he was allowed to paint his walls & even ceiling however he pleased & it instilled a love of creativity in him. his parents still have paintings he did as a child hanging up on their walls & fridge. even now, he still draws casually, though it was always a hobby for him & not his actual passion.

his parents are extremely caring & understanding. as a teenager, they allowed him to go out & party & always made sure to get him home safely. mikey genuinely can not remember a single time they ever yelled at him even when he fucked up massively. so he tries his best to make sure they’re happy & taken care of. but they’re adamant in supporting whatever mikey wants to do.

they were both the alternative types, which meant that rock music filled their home. mikey was familiar with classic rock from a young age & the sounds of fleetwood mac & other similar bands fills him with a warmth that can only be attained from childhood nostalgia.

his first taste of love came at the age of seven. his parents always brought home new albums to listen to & his dad purchased three cheers for sweet revenge by my chemical romance. while the screaming & raging instruments could have been too much for anyone else his age, mikey embraced it fully.

it ignited an adoration for the genre as a whole & soon enough, his parents were bringing home various emo music albums to sate the always dramatic & over-reacting mikey. for christmas, he received mcr’s discography (at the time, just two albums) on vinyl, which he still has hanged proudly on his wall as an adult.

he owns every variation of every mcr album now. vinyl, cd, cassettes. he even collects the japanese versions because he likes the way they’re designed.

he dropped the name mike / michael because of mikey way & he refuses to answer to anything else.

even though it’s largely part of “cringe culture” now (which mikey refuses to participate in), he loves hot topic & goes there whenever he can. his closet is full of band tees & he has a drawer filled with those spiky belts, bracelets & pants with the suspenders from his teenage years.

he’s been dyeing his hair regularly since he was twelve. he’s had every color under the sun. this is what his hair currently looks like but he dyes the highlights with kool-aid, so the color is always changing.

he has a nostril piercing & would probably get more done if someone so much as implied that he should.

he has a mcr stan twitter account & he gets into fights with everyone he decides has a wrong opinion. he’s been suspended multiple times for being too aggressive online, but he always comes back. he also has a tumblr account but he just uses it to reblog pictures of gerard way (his bias KJHFDKJ).

he works at a record store & goes to school for communications. he hopes to either be a radio dj or podcast host. he wants to get paid to talk about how much he loves music either way. but he loves his current job because he gets to talk about music all day and recommend albums to people. also it’s helpful in perfecting his own vinyl collection.

yes, he cried the day mcr broke up & yes he bought tickets to all their reunion shows. he took the day off when the tickets went on sale & his boss was understanding, knowing how much he loves the band.

he’s extremely impulsive. if you tell him to do anything, he more than likely will. he has a lot of stupid scribbled tattoos on him for this reason, especially on his hands.

while he doesn’t mind appearing masculine & even embraces it, he doesn’t fully align with being a man. he started identifying as nonbinary in his teens, but has never felt 100% a man his whole life. he’s fine with both he or they pronouns for the most part, though he does have his preferences day to day. he introduces himself as nonbinary so it’s not a secret & everyone who interacts with him is aware.

he’s kind of a party animal. he’s that loud person who drinks too much & ends up blacked out on the floor.

he gets in trouble a lot, because he plays music very loudly at both his workplace & his apartment. but he’s of the opinion that if music is too loud for you then you’re just too old.

he’s aggressive & very arrogant. he will fight you about anything & everything. he just likes to argue & he thinks he’s right about everything.

in typical aries fashion, he loves to flirt & be flirted with. he just adores attention & seeks out affection where he can find it. he gets crushes really easily & pursues aggressively (he’s extremely charming & good at making people feel good about themselves), but he gets bored when he actually obtains the person he desires. he’s never really seriously dated, but has had over a billion crushes in his lifetime.

thought dramatic & annoying most of the time, he’s also very loyal & has a good heart. if you’re in his circle of people he likes, then he’ll do anything for you point blank. he always tells his friends that he’d die for him & he means it.

while he tries to appear confident, he has secret insecurities stemming from being the middle child. he has issues with feeling like he’s not good enough or thinks he’s unnoticed by everyone, so he acts up by being dramatic.

he drinks A LOT of coffee, so he’s pretty much always bouncing off the walls.

he’s extremely pansexual & loud about it. if you’ve known him for longer than five minutes then you’ll find out how he wishes he could smash gerard way specifically in the helena mv to smithereens.

he very casually knows how to play guitar. he’s that person who plays wonderwall at every party.

while he’s not a fan of pop music, he knows most girl group dances & can do them well.

wanted connections :

exes (any gender. it will more than likely be something casual, like a few months or less, but we can discuss the timeline! also it can be messy or friendly. extra points if there’s lingering feelings!)

hookups / fwbs (any gender. singular experiences or regular type things)

childhood plots for those who’ve lived in seattle (childhood friends, first kisses / crushes, all that good stuff)

flirtationships that don’t go anywhere

one-sided crushes (don’t mind who has the feelings!)

mutual pining but they’re both idiots & have no idea

party buddies (can be drinking &/or smoking). emo music buddies. netflix buddies. any of these can be combined.

enemies???? (if we can decide on a suitable plot. or enemies with benefits :smirk:)

someone who knows of mikey from his stan twitter but doesn’t realize it’s him & talks shit openly about the asshole who runs the account in front of him.

on the opposite side of the spectrum, someone who he flirts with in the dms & they plan to meet up after realizing they live in the same apartment building.

tinder date (it can go well or not)

frequent customers (customers he flirts with or can’t stand because they just loiter or gets into fights with because they have bad taste in music

someone who takes advantage of mikey being willing to do anything he’s dared to do. make him do all the stupid shit he shouldn’t be doing, whether it’s getting tattoos / piercings or anything dangerous or just idiotic.

you’re sick of this asshole blasting music late at night & go to yell at him for it but oops he’s actually attractive (or you actually can’t stand him, whichever GKDHFGJFKD).

i have a huge tag full of plots i’d love to do on my rp spam blog. not all of them will be fitting for mikey but just ask me & we can try to change some elements or something!

literally anything you can think of i’m probably down for it!

#hide:intro #◟ * 𝟎𝟏𝟑. 𝑔𝑜 ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑝𝑙𝑧 › OUT OF CHARACTER #not me being ready on time for once wow

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lurafita · 5 years ago

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Petvengers Chapter 3

Read chapter 1 here: Chappy 1

Read chapter 2 here: Chappy 2

:-) Guess now what kind of animal Stephen gets, and see if you guessed right later in the chapter! Cookies for everyone who knows who Detective Davis is. :-)

To stave off any confusion that might come, MJ's parents are divorced, and Michelle has no blood-related siblings. *Insert name here* has no blood-related siblings, and his mother died.

Regarding the pet introduced in this chapter, please remember that this is a fanfic. I therefore take some liberties with the laws on which animals can and can not be held as pets.

Dr Strange

America may be the land of the free, but it was sadly not the land of good tea. Not if you asked one Dr. Stephen Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts.

He could have sworn he still had a stash of the fine leaves he had brought back from his last visit to Kathmandu, but he hadn't been able to find it anywhere. His quest to find a vendor that sold decent tea, had taken him almost all the way to the ends of Manhattan, but at least he now had something to tide him over with, until the next time he was due to visit the monastery. If it weren't for the almost unbearable summer heat outside, the trip might not have been so bad.

Since he was in his civilian clothes, he headed for the nearest alley to open a portal to the Sanctum. No need to draw attention to himself, after all. He wasn't Stark.

He had barely stepped foot into his home, when he heard the voice of the boy, Peter, coming from the sitting room.

"-which is why MJ is currently getting ready for a 'get to know you' dinner with her possible new stepfather and brother. Ned and I researched the guy beforehand, of course, but he checked out. He is a police detective with the Brooklyn devision, and so far we haven't found anything that would point at him being dirty or the likes. No shady connections to the Mob, no underhanded courtroom deals, no crooks or witnesses that vanished under suspicious circumstances while connected to any of his cases, and no secret Swiss bank accounts."

Stephen could only shake his head at what he heard, even as a fond, little smile stole itself across his lips. Kid was watching too much TV. It seemed Wong shared this perspective, as he could hear the other man next.

"While your devotion to assure your friends safety is admirable, don't you think that hacking into the police stations database is taking things a little far?"

How Wong could say something like this, and still sound completely relaxed, was a mystery to Strange. He himself was contemplating to inform Stark of his ward's latest shenanigans, so that the man could perform some damage control.

"One can never be too certain. But don't worry, we made up for the hacking by strengthening the departments firewall. Their data was almost as easy to get to as the hospitals. I actually think I met Detective Davis as Spiderman once, and he seemed like a pretty nice guy. I'm not actually too worried, but I will be keeping an eye on things."

By then Stephen had made his way to the room, where Peter and Wong were talking, both had a glass filled with cold water before them on the table, while the Cloak of Levitation had draped itself beside the teenager on the couch, apparently listening in on the conversation as well.

"As long as you don't commit any more felonies while 'keeping an eye on things', Spiderman, that's perfectly alright."

The boy immediately grinned at him.

"What's up, Doc?"

Stephen sighed. Sometimes he really despised Bugs Bunny. Wong nodded at him in greeting and the Cloak fluttered one of it's corners, which was it's way of waving hello.

He continued on to the connecting kitchen, and started boiling the water in his teapot.

"What brings you here, Peter? And how come your canine companion isn't with you?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Peter pout.

"It's too hot for Hope. We went for a walk yesterday morning, and he burned his paws on the asphalt. Colonel, too. Tony sectioned off a few yards behind the tower, and had a company deliver some soil and fast growing grass seeds. And pavilions for some shadow. So any outside activities for the animals are restricted to the new backyard, until this heatwave passes. But it's just as well, because Arthur is still getting used to his new leg Dad and Bruce built him, and he still needs to take things slow. And Eames can more easily stretch his wings there, without bumping into anything and having to maneuver around walls and stuff."

Stephen, thanks to Wong, knew all about the little arachnids efforts to turn Stark tower into a zoo, and could deduce that Colonel, who had also burned his paws, was one of the pets that Peter had coerced someone into adopting. 'Eames', likewise, must be an avian type of animal that now belonged to one of the Avengers. But he had no idea who or what 'Arthur' could be.

"Arthur? Did the Avengers get a new member?"

To his surprise, Wong answered the question.

"Arthur is Sergeant Barnes adopted, young raccoon, who lost his hind leg to a hunter trap. He is very cute. Peter sent me pictures."

Said teen scowled at the Sorcerer Supreme.

"Which you would have gotten, too, if you finally accepted my friends request on Whatsapp."

Thankfully that's when the kettle let out a shrill whistle, and Stephen could finally start brewing himself a cup. He would not be able to get through what was to follow, without a nice cup of tea.

"Peter, you have my number for emergencies and other important things, not to spam my phone with pictures of every cute, little critter you come across. I remember the day you adopted Hope. Wong's phone vibrated so much with received messages from you, it fell off the table. Also, I don't have Whatsapp."

Completely ignoring everything else the man had said, Peter zeroed in on that last statement.

"What about twitter?"

"No."

"Instagram?"

"No."

"Tumblr?"

"I don't even know what that is."

"You gotta have Facebook at least! Even Steve has a Facebook page, and he uses a flip-phone!"

"Definitely not."

Peter, seemingly beyond shocked, turned to the older monk beside him.

"How do you live with him?"

Wong sighed, shook his head, and took a sip of his water.

"'Tis the cross I must bear."

Thank the Ancient One that his tea was done! He took a long drink, disregarding the scalding temperature, and sighed in relief. Better.

"Why don't we get back to my first question, shall we? What brings you here, Peter? Do the Avengers need assistance?"

Peter grinned and dove for his backpack.

"Nope! I just brought over the next part of the Harry Potter movies for Cloakie!"

He quickly yanked the movie disk out of his backpack and held it aloft triumphantly. And then the Cloak of Levitation, an ancient, magical, powerful artifact, that was revered by many, fluttered in absolute excitement and tackled the teenager in a hug, while also grabbing the movie.

Peter laughed, Wong smiled, and Stephen resisted the urge to burrow his head in his hands, and instead took another sip of his tea.

After he had managed to untangle himself from Cloakie, Peter downed the rest of his water, thanked Wong for the beverage, and stood up.

"Alright! I should be on my way now."

"Do you want me to open a portal into the tower?" Stephen offered, remembering the sweltering heat outside. Peter shook his head.

"Thanks, but I wanted to fit in a little patrol before going back. Though I don't expect a lot to be going on, with the temperatures outside. Thank God the suit has air conditioning. Bye Doc, bye Wong, bye Cloakie!"

Two "Bye Peter"'s and a full body flutter from the Cloak, and the young superhero was gone. With the closing of the front door, Strange sat down on one of the couches and relaxed. He liked Peter a lot, but the boy could be a bit taxing at times. As he drank his tea and watched the Cloak fly off in search of his laptop to watch it's new Harry Potter movie, he never noticed the deeply amused, knowing and conspiratorial little grin Wong was wearing.

-------------------------------------------------------------

"So, MJ said the dinner went really well. She likes the guy, said she had a good feeling about him."

Ned told Bethany, the shelter worker who had been there when Michelle and Peter had guided Sam and Bucky into pet adoption. Peter had boosted himself up on the reception counter, and was carefully stroking the soft feathers of the big snow owl perched on his arm. While Bethany wouldn't normally allow a visitor to have one of the animals in the open like this, and in the buildings lobby to boot, she had made an exception for Peter. Not only was the boy extraordinarily good with handling the animals, he had also needed a little pick-me-up, seeing as the persisting hot weather had not allowed for his dog to accompany him to the shelter.

Peter added his own little tid-bits.

"The son had apparently been a bit quiet, but she said he seemed very sweet."

Bethany nodded.

"Well, I believe anyone would feel a little awkward, meeting their father's new girlfriend, and girlfriend's daughter. How old did you say the boy was?"

Since Peter was very busy smiling over the cute faces the owl was making as he pet it, Ned answered the question.

"11. Though MJ did get him to talk a bit about hobbies and stuff. She said he has a real interest in art, especially graffiti painting."

Peter chimed in then.

"Which means he and MJ will have plenty to bond over. Hopefully she doesn't make him take up her 'painting people in distress' thing. Otherwise my frowning face will likely be the first of many, to one day appear on walls all over the city."

Ned paled visibly.

"Dude, that's horrifying."

Bethany laughed softly.

"Now, now boys. You shouldn't fret about things like that. My wife always says that artists carry old souls. Anything they draw, is worth drawing. Even a frowning face."

She winked at Peter. Bethany was totally cool. She was 58 years old and had been together with her wife since they were both 20. When America finally lifted the ban on gay marriage, they had been one of the first same-sex couples to tie the knot in 2015. Peter opened his mouth to reply, when his ears picked up the distant (though rapidly closing in) sounds of screaming and cursing. He grinned.

"Ned, get your camera ready. Operation: Harry Potter, is about to begin."

The other boy obediently pointed his camera towards the entrance, and before Bethany could ask what the boys were talking about, she heard a male voice screaming at someone or something to: "Stop it, goddammit! You insufferable piece of magical cloth! If you don't let me down this instance-"

And then suddenly the doors burst open and what looked to be a man, swaddled in... a red cape?.. came literally flying in.

Peter jumped from the counter (carefully though, so as not to unsettle the owl still perched on his arm), and took a few steps forward.

"Cloakie, you made it!"

Then the cape seemingly unraveled itself from the man (giving the poor guy quite the spin in the process), and came floating over to the teen and owl.

While Bethany was still trying to cope with the fact that there was an apparently living article of clothing, hovering in front of Peter and seemingly ogling the owl (which ogled back just as much), the man the cape had dragged into the shelter (and boy, that was definitely a line of thought she never expected to have) was slowly getting his bearings again. Then he pinned a very pointed gaze at the two teenagers, and made a notable effort to keep his voice calm.

"Peter. Ned. Would it be correct for me to assume, that you are to blame for my unwilling journey through the streets of Manhattan?"

As Ned tried to shrink back behind his camera (that he still kept resolutely focused on the sorcerer), Peter just grinned brightly at the man.

"Absolutely. Very astute of you. Guess that's why you are the Sorcerer Supreme."

(Oh, so that was that magical superhero that her wife had told her about. Really, her love was such a fangirl where New York's hero community was concerned. Well, at least that entrance made sense now.)

The man, (Dr. Strange, if Bethany remembered correctly), narrowed his eyes at the teen.

"And for what possible reason, do you require my presence?"

Cloakie had extended one of it's corners to lightly pet the white owl on the head. The owl seemed to like it.

"We need a designated adult to sign the adoption papers for Hedwig. She is a 9 year old snow owl. Her owner was a huge Harry Potter fan, which is why he named her Hedwig. He sadly died in an accident not too long ago, and his remaining family didn't have the kind of space to take Hedwig in."

The eyes narrowed further.

"If you want to adopt another pet, then get your aunt or Stark to sign the forms."

Peter shook his head.

"But Hedwig isn't for me."

Bethany looked on intrigued as suspicion formed in the sorcerer's eyes.

"Peter, I'm not getting a pet."

The teen rolled his eyes.

"I know. Hedwig isn't for you, either. She is for Cloakie!"

As if to underline his point, he lifted the arm with the owl a bit, drawing all eyes to the way the Cloak of Levitation cooed (could a cloak coo?) at Hedwig.

The look on the doctor's face right then, was one that Bethany had seen many times on her sister in law, when she had to explain to her 4 year old daughter why she only got one birthday every year.

"Kid, the Cloak of Levitation may be a sentient being with it's own will, but it cannot adopt an animal."

Peter gave the man the most deadpan look that Bethany had ever seen him make.

"I. Know. Which is why we need you to sign the paperwork. Didn't I say that? I thought I said that."

He looked questioningly at Cloakie, who nodded in agreement, and then went right back to petting the owl.

Stephen decided not to suffer any more of this lunacy, and waved his hands to open a portal to the Sanctum. Before he was able to fully step through, however, the Cloak had settled around his shoulders and dragged him back into the shelter's lobby. He directed his stern gaze at the Cloak.

"I don't care how much you love Harry Potter, you will not keep an owl in the Sanctum."

The Cloak folded both of it's lower ends together, in an imitation of a human folding their arms over their chest. Stephen pointed a finger right at it.

"Don't give me that look. We are not taking that owl home, and that is final."

Hedwig, (with a little whispered encouragement from Peter), took matters into her own hands (claws? Wings?) and gave the teen an affectionate headbutt, before flying off his arm and right through the still open portal, into the Sanctum. While Stephen was still trying to process this fully, his magical cloak fluttered in excitement and dove right after it's owl. The portal closed right behind them. Stephen stared.

Before he had the chance to chase after his wayward magical artifact, Peter was suddenly before him, shoving a bunch of papers and a pen into his chest.

"Great, doc! I knew you would come around, though there was really no need to get Hedwig to your home in such a rush! Now, let's just quickly take care of the formalities. You wouldn't want Bethany to think that you were kidnapping her animals, right?"

The wide, brown eyes looked meaningfully first at him, then at the older woman behind the counter, then at a still filming Ned.

Master of the mystic arts, Sorcerer Supreme, protector of the magical realms, Doctor Stephen Strange, let out a long suffering sigh, and grabbed for the adoption forms.

-----------------------------------------------------

When roughly twenty minutes later, a portal opened up in the sitting room of the Sanctum Sanctorum, through which stepped a thoroughly annoyed Stephen, Wong was already prepared with a cup of steaming tea.

"The Cloak and Hedwig are in the upper level, playing a game of tag." He quickly handed the cup over, completely ignoring the calculating eyes his friend was bestowing him with. "I have already placed different perches for our new roommate all over the house. The special bird feed is in the kitchen."

Then the older monk calmly sat down in his armchair, and resumed reading the thick tome of incantations before him.

"You were in on this, weren't you?"

Wong casually turned a page.

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

Stephen swore loudly, took a sip of his tea, and vowed to find a way to get revenge.

#Peter Parker #Ned Leeds #Stephen Strange #Cloak of levitation #Peter is a little shit #pets #hedwig the owl #owls #cloakie is a Harry Potter fan #petvenger #fanfi #iron dad #spider son #peter tricks ny heroes into adopting pets #Wong #teasing Miles Morales as a future character #fic series #op lurafita

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genderdysphoriablues · 5 years ago

Text

14/10/'19

I didn't have work today because of Columbus Day, so that was nice. I definitely slept. All my siblings were at school, too, so it was a quiet day.

I cleaned a lot of my room; more than usual this time. It looks a lot nicer, though my desk is still a nightmare. The huge pile of blankets is gone though (I stuffed them all in bags and stashed them in our storage room). Once I get everything cleaned, especially my closet, I'll be able to actually keep them in my own room without it becoming an immediate disaster.

I ran some errands this afternoon (I say, as though I am a functioning adult). I picked up a pair of really soft exercise pants for my Halloween cosplay, and a picture frame for a map of Luthadel (Mistborn, Brandon Sanderson). I also collected some popcorn chicken and a Sprite. I took a short trip to Hobby Lobby as well, but got nothing there.

Then I went to Zurcher's, where I found a lot of fun little trinkets for the upcoming cipher hunt. I also got some Tutti Frutties and two of every flavour of Dum Dum sucker they had to offer. I also got some little tiny cauldrons to put the stuff in when it comes time to hide them.

I got home and chilled for a bit, and then at about 6 I got ready in my Roxas cosplay (complete with a keyblade). Because at 6:30 my friend, dressed like Velma, knocked on the door and we went with her cousin the the cousin's boyfriend to Black Island Farms. We met with other friends there from the YSA (I also saw my cousin and a coworker from NES). We rode a trailer to a pumpkin patch and picked out pumpkins (hard to carry a large pumpkin in one hand), and I made a new friend. Then my friends and I went through the corn maze. There were five of us initially, but then 'Velma' and I ditched them rather intentionally because two were engaged and we figured they might like to spend some time alone, and the other was trying to flirt with a girl, so we suspected it might be best if he was left to his efforts.

We did eventually get out, and even though the way we didn't come in (much to my surprise). We bought some hot chocolate and the people selling it to us were pretty excited about my cosplay. That felt pretty good. Then we found 'Velma's' cousin, who was our ride, and hung out with her for a bit while she bought some little decorative gourds. Then we all went home.

And now it's time for sleep.

#transgender #Mormon transgender #lds transgender #pumpkin patch #Kingdom hearts #lgbt #Mormon LGBT #lds LGBT

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arazialotis · 7 years ago

Text

Back Of A Cop Car - Part 2

Word Count: Around 4600

Pairing: Dean x Sheriff!Reader

Summary: The reader meets Sam in her last year of high school and is head over heels for his older brother Dean. When they finally get a moment alone, it is short lived and they both end up in more trouble than they signed up for.

Part 1

More than ten years later Sam and Dean come back to town to finish a job their father had started. Yet they are both caught off guard when a familiar face makes their job a whole lot harder.

Warnings: Language, General mentions of regular SPN violence/gore

This is purely for a hobby and my enjoyment. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I am by no means a writer so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

------

It had been a few days since Officer Benoza had come crying to your office about evidence she had misplaced but it had turned up in the end. Though reminiscing in the past had brought back a longing. You wondered what had become of both Sam and Dean. Had Sam made it to Yale or Hartford? Did Dean escape the family business and trek off on his own? Had either of them found someone and settled down? You sure hadn’t aside from the relationships that lasted a few months every now and then. But as soon as you made sheriff, the dating scene halted completely.

You laughed pulling Dean’s mugshot from your desk, remembering his devilish charm but the picture now showed such boyish and innocent features, you wondered how he had changed, if you would even recognize him if you crossed paths. Your mugshot, however, was framed on the wall. Once you joined the force, the pranks became old real quick, it seemed better just to display it out in the open.

It followed you to the sheriff’s office. Yes, you were young to be in this position, but you were smart and you had proven yourself time and time again in the field. Officer Stevens was no longer with the force, although you did work a couple years by his side. He was the one that pushed you towards criminal justice and to run for sheriff. You cried a bit at his retirement party, but he found a way to keep in trouble; coming around the station frequently, giving you advice on cases he was following in the paper.

Of course when you needed his guidance and advice the most, he was off fishing in the Bahamas. Aside from him, only Officer Murillo had worked the previous case but not down in the nitty gritty. Regardless, the both of you had been putting countless hours of overtime pouring over every last detail. The previous case had ended as deemed that the murderer had committed suicide. But the details were so strikingly similar, you doubted even a copycat could pull this off with such precision. Besides all the evidence they had on the perp was circumstantial. The true murder could have seen his opportunity and laid low for a few years but the itch was just to strong and they began again.

Unfortunately, press was much different nowadays than it was even just ten years ago. With constant headlines on facebook and television, you avoided it all together. The following afternoon, having only left the office six hours ago, you were back on duty. You made your way into the office, a latte in had with perhaps two or three extra shots of espresso. Murillo had the day off, and you made sure he wouldn’t come in. In the lobby the tv was on as usual, reporting on morning news.

A male reporter with a fake tan and unnaturally white teeth was discussing the recent case. “Realistically, Sherriff Y/L/N has only been on the job for a year and a half, how can someone lose their touch if they never had it? You have to wonder if she’s the right man for the job.”

You rolled your eyes. Sexist pig. If you weren’t held to an ethical standard, you would be tempted to target him for speeding. “Can you change the channel?” You requested out of annoyance.

“Sure thing boss.” The tiny young receptionist peeped, switching channels immediately to some soap opera. “Hey, don’t listen to them. They are not here everyday seeing the hours and effort you are putting in.” “Thanks.” You mumbled and headed for your office closing the door behind, not really wanting the pep talk.

Dean’s photo still laid on your desk from last night. But you pushed a pile of papers over it, looking for the most recent criminal profile; male, satanic/cult ritualistic tendencies, long term resident to know people's routines and schedules, knowledge of medical procedures and autonomy. It was all stuff you heard before. It also contradicted the first case closure, the girl who it all was pinned on. To make things worse, there were apparently FBI agents wanting to get involved as well. Although you haven't had enough caffeine for social interaction, you headed out of your office to check on any new leads through the fingerprints and DNA found at the most recent scene.

---

Around 4 PM, Sam and Dean pulled up to station. Dean shifted the Impala into park and straightened his tie while checking his teeth in the mirror. Sam sat motionless, still upset about the situation.

“I still don’t like this idea.” Sam stated.

“Cheer up pal.” Dean patted Sam’s chest and hopped out of the car.

Sam followed him, continuing to argue. “All I’m saying is there is usually a reason we don’t come back to previous cases. We should have called another hunter in on this.” “What? You think someone is going to remember us? Weren’t you like in middle school last time we were here?” Dean asked.

“I was a senior.” Sam corrected.

“Your hair has, what, grown three feet since then? No one is going to recognize us. A lot has changed in 10 years.” Dean rambled heading up the stairs to the police station. “We just have to go in with confidence that’s all.”

Dean pushed open the doors, the layout and decor greatly updated since he last remembered it. With no recognizable faces, he was on a role. He took the lead and headed directly to reception.

“Hey there sweetheart.” He leaned over the counter, grinning at the receptionist. “I had called in earlier about some files.”

She giggled, lost in his smile. “Oh of course, let me call my boss up quick…” She picked up the phone dialing your extension. “Sorry, she’s not picking up, let me go look for her.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably next to Dean, keeping a watchful eye.

“There’s no reason to waste her time.” He pulled out his FBI badge. “I’m sure this is all you need. I’ll leave my card as well.” He assured with a wink.

The receptionist looked at the badge, debating.

You were coming back from forensics, when you noticed the two suits standing in your lobby. One of them leaning over, clearly making eyes at the receptionist. It must be the feds, you knew you had to introduce yourself now or later, might as well be now. The tall one with the long hair turned around. Both of your eyes went wide with surprise and recognition. All the sleep deprivation magically left your system replaced by excitement.

“Sam Winchester!” You squealed, running in for a hug.

“Y/N?!” Sam was just as ecstatically surprised as you at first, embracing you in a hug before shooting Dean a ‘I told you so’ scorn.

Dean straightened up and cleared his throat upon realizing it was you.

You stepped back getting a better look of Sam. “I thought I’d never see you again! God, it’s has to have been ten years at least?” He still had that brightness you remembered so well.

“Yeah, I was hoping to run into you.” Sam tried to match your eagerness.

You glance at his partner and your heart hit the floor. “Dean?” His bad boy charm had matured; his jaw more chiseled, weariness in his smile, but those luminescent eyes still promised thrill and danger. Jealousy rose in your chest knowing he had been shamelessly flirting. You tried to stand a little taller.

“Wow.” Dean felt his heart flutter, the years had been more than generous to you. “Sheriff?” He noticed the star on your chest. “Who woulda thought.” Sam grew evermore anxious.

“Not me that’s for sure.” You laughed. “So what are you all doing in town? Sorry, it’s just so unexpected.”

“Nah, it’s alright.” Sam tried to recover. “Just on business.” You noticed the badge still in the receptionist’s hand.

“Federal Investigation business, that is.” Dean added following your eyes.

You took the badge and examined it. “Bullshit.” No chance in hell either one of them was FBI.

Sam chuckled nervously sensing the change of atmosphere.

“Tell ya what.” Dean fished out a card. “Why don’t you just call our supervisor and he’ll straighten all this out.”

“How about I run the badge myself.” You declined to take his card. “Sam shall I check yours too while I’m at it?” Sam went from nervous to overly cheesy. “I’m sorry, I can’t do it anymore... We are passing through town, just on business, and definitely wanted to see you. And we just.” He paused to laugh. “Though it would be hilarious to prank you while we were at it.” The lack of amusement on your face clearly stated you were not buying it. “So, uh, when you aren’t busy, um, do you want to grab dinner or something?”

“Yeah… sure.” You passively agreed.

“Awesome. Should we exchange numbers or just call 911?” Dean joked.

You pulled a smirk having heard it several times before. You wrote your cell on your business card and handed it to Sam. “Hopefully it will work out, we’ve been awfully busy around here trying to catch a serial killer…” You stated only to gauge their reaction.

They exchanged glances. “Really, that is… wow...” Sam gasped.

“Just like the time we were locked up in here together Dean… remember?” You continued pushing, the wheels in your head spinning.

“Oh, that’s a night I could never forget.” He assured.

“Mmhmm.” You hummed placing his badge in your pocket fully intending not to return it. “Well, I really should get back to the books. Give me a call though.”

“Right, of course.” Sam agreed. “See you around.” You stayed put as he and Dean turned to exit the lobby. It was only after they were out the front door that you ran to the window. They seemed to be arguing outside the same chevrolet Dean drove as a kid. You went to the reception’s phone.

“I was going to look for you, I swear.” She defended.

You hushed her dialing Benoza’s extension. “Hey. I got a gut feeling about something. You up for some tailing?” She was more than happy to obliged.

You took a seat back in your office closing the door blaming the caffeine overload for your swirling head. Perhaps the years had fogged your memory, but the boys you remembered weren’t capable of such things, especially Sam. Yet your instincts screamed at you. The coincidence that they were in town with a string of murders with the exact same pattern as the case ten years ago; the only other time they were in your town, then mysteriously vanished.

Against your own will, not wanting to know the truth, you dug through the system’s old records, locating Dean’s file. Fingerprints and all. Your finger hovered over the mouse before building up the courage to hit scan. Since the latte you had since moved onto regular pot of coffee. You went to refill but before you even started to pour, you already heard the ping indicating a match. You poured the glass, already hearing another and then another.

It must be malfunctioning you thought, setting the cup down and heading back over to your desk. Upon seeing the results, your stomach turned over and immediately you grabbed for the trash can to spit up. His prints alone were associated with countless unsolved murders, grave desecrations, weapons, blood trails; the list went on and on, and those were just Dean’s.

You wiped your mouth with a tissue, blaming again the coffee for the incident. You texted Benoza: Someone on them at all times. No. 1 suspect, will debrief you later. She responded her understanding. Meanwhile, you were going to head back to the latest scene of the crime, if you could pin Dean or Sam there, you could bring them in for questioning; potentially more.

---

“Do I need to say it?” Sam sternly asked. Dean blew him off. “We don’t work old cases.”

“Come on Sam. It’s Y/N we’re talking about. Sweet little innocent Y/N. This will be easy peasy. In and out. Plus, I can tell she still wants me.” Dean rambled. “Maybe I’ll get a little more out of this case.”

“It’s not too late, we could still call someone else in.” Sam suggested.

“And give up the chance of what I missed out on ten years ago, no way.” Dean argued.

Sam rolled his eyes. “And I thought Dad had scared you away for good.” Dean clenched his jaw. Sam didn’t know the half of it. “I know he sure did me.” Sam continued.

“Ahh. I’m my own man now.” Dean brushed off the memories.

Sam followed Dean into the Impala. “Frankly, I’m surprised she didn’t arrest you right then and there.”

“Yeah, maybe just to see me in handcuffs again.” Dean teased. “But we’ll call her up, go for dinner, a few drinks, and have a great time.” Dean pulled off onto the street.

“Is that why she’s having us followed?” Sam asked.

Dean looked in his rearview mirror noting the oldsmobile. “We are not being followed.”

Sam stayed silent recognizing Dean’s maneuvers in attempt to loose the car, but after every turn, the oldsmobile quietly crept behind in the distance.

“Fine, we’re being followed.” Dean gave in. “New plan. We go back to the motel, exit out the bathroom window and head to the scene of the last crime. If we are sure it matches, make sure Dad crossed his t’s and dotted his i’s.”

“Dean, I was there. Dad took care of the mumiho and there’s no chance that thing was going to recover.” Sam explained.

“So you’re telling me the chances of dad screwing up are less likely than two very ancient and very rare Korean spirits hitting the exact same town, oceans apart from its home country, exactly ten years apart.” Dean sarcastically doubted.

Sam pushed his lips together. “What I am saying is we do not have enough details. I haven’t been able to hack my way into the police system yet. From what the press is printing, yes it does seem similar, but for a town this size and history of crime, perhaps they are making connections that aren’t really there.” Sam argued.

“So either way we need to visit the scene of the crime.” Dean repeated.

Sam nodded in agreeance.

----

When Benoza reported that she was staking out the boys at their motel, you decided to get ready and leave for the crime scene. When trading places with the old sheriff, you had passed up on his Bronco just for a regular squad car. Not three minutes had passed since you left the station when you heard a report coming in over the radio for a disturbance at the cemetery.

You grabbed your radio. “It’s on my way, I’ll stop by.” Reading what you just had learned about Dean, it raised your suspicions.

Once you arrived you instantly regretted it. “Mr. MacGregor,” You addressed the groundskeeper. “I think you need to contact animal control.”

He had shown you around. At least four graves had the same two foot wide holes. All occuring on different nights. You clicked your flashlight on, squatted down, and shown it into the hole, unable to see the bottom.

“That’s what I thought at first too, but animals don’t go digging holes that deep and especially breakthrough…” He explained.

You stood up, brow furrowed together. “Breakthrough… the coffins?”

He nodded his head and pulled out a locket. “This was just inside the hole this morning. Caught on a root.” You grabbed a rubber glove from your back pocket and took a look to examine it. The engraving on the back the same as the head stone.

“I was here when they buried her. She was wearing it. Metal casket too…” He explained.

You place the locket in an evidence bag. “I’ll send some officer’s out to gather more evidence. Also, animal control…” You looked at the hole again not noticing traditional shovel marks. “Just to get their input. I expect you’ll cooperate with them?” “Of course ma’am.” He assured. “But you should know. There this woman been coming around at night too. Never got a good look at her.”

“Hmmm. You think she’s got something to do with it?” You asked.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Alright… Let the other officers know as well… they’ll look for prints, get a more detailed statement…” You assured him.

You sighed getting back into the squad car, setting the evidence aside on the passenger's seat. You did some quick paperwork and radioed in two officers to come by to take a closer look. Lastly, you phoned over to animal control who ensured they would come by as soon as possible. Honestly it was a bit relieving not to have pinned Dean here yet; to think it was just an animal no matter how weird the circumstances. Everything you were taught lead you to believe that Dean and/or Sam was the murderer, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to accept it, not 100 percent at least.

---

The sun was setting when Sam and Dean had made their way to the latest victim’s house. The door was sealed shut with tape and a warning notifying anyone except police not to enter. Dean whipped out his pocket knife and tore through the wrap, allowing them both inside. They searched around a bit, eliminating the obvious; cold spots, sulfur, EMF.

“This is pointless.” Sam complained. “We need to examine the bodies.” “The police aren’t looking for what we do, they most likely missed something in the case.” Dean reassured. “Besides, wait a couple more hours and we can break into the station since you can’t break into their website.” “Shut up.” Sam groaned.

Dean waltzed to the kitchen and flipped on the light. “Hey, did the neighbors mention anything about a dog?” He nodded to the muddy paw prints on the kitchen floor.

Sam knelt down and got a closer look. Dean knew very well there were no neighbors, they were on the very outskirts of town. He pulled out his phone to compare. “They do appear… fox-like.” Dean clapped his hands together. “That’s all I need to know. So, where’s the den of the one you supposedly killed.” “Supposedly killed? I was…” Sam started to argue but he was cut off by the sound of gravel crunching underneath tires.

Sam tired the window in the kitchen but it was jammed. Dean quietly raced to the front window, pulling the curtain slightly aside to peek out.

“Oh great, it’s your high school BFF.” Dean snarked. “Is there a back door?” Dean whispered to Sam. Sam shook his head no. The both heard the sound off boots on the front porch. “Find a way out, I’ll distract her.” “What? No.” Sam quietly protested.

They both paused at the sound of the door creaking open. “Get out.” He mouthed to Sam and quietly walked towards the front.

---

You pulled up to the latest scene of the crime, to process additional evidence, to look at it with fresh eyes, to find incriminating evidence against the Winchesters; whatever the reason you were just glad to be out here away from judgemental eyes. A quiet place where you could just think without that burnt orange of a news anchor peering at your every move.

You wandered up to the front porch, your instincts stopping you before reaching the door. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears realizing the seal had been broke. Hopefully it was just teenagers, a few instantly came to mind. You uncliped your gun from it holster and slowly pushed the door open.

“This is the police.” Your voice felt foreign in your throat. “Let’s make this as easy as possible and come out with your hands up.” “Don’t panic.” You pointed the gun towards the kitchen were the voice was coming from. “It’s just me.” Dean? He waltzed out of the kitchen with his hands in the air.

“Dean Winchester.” You stated.

He smiled and popped his eyebrows. “That’s me.” “You are under arrest for trespassing on a crime scene.” You swallowed the growing lump in your throat.

“Oh come on sweetheart, I was innocent last time and I still am.” He assured with confidence.

“You have the right to remain silent.” You began the Miranda rights. His smile dropped as you put your gun away and replaced them with handcuffs. “Against the wall.” You nodded.

He complied. “You know, if you are into bondage, ya could have just asked.” You were glad he was facing the wall to conceal the blush that grew within you. “Is Sam here with you?” You tried to ignore his rhetoric.

“Just you and me sweetheart, ever since I saw you at the station just wanted to get you alone.” He assured.

“Sam!” You called but did not hear a response. You swear you felt some tension leave Dean. “I need to pat you down.” You warned.

Dean chuckled. “I always enjoy a good frisking.”

Had it been any other male, you would have rolled your eyes. You immediately removed a handgun tucked into his jeans. “I assume you have a permit for this.” You snarked disassembling it and laying it on the nearest table.

Dean chuckled nervously. You removed four other weapons including a bowie knife, another knife with unknown symbols carved into it, as well as a lock pick in his back pocket. He easily followed your push towards the squad car, thinking through his options, he’d gotten out of worse before. You locked him inside and went back to retrieve his weapons and have another look around.

In the meantime, Sam came around to the car and opened Dean’s door but furrowed his brow when Dean didn’t immediately get up and go. “Dude, Let’s go.” He encouraged.

“I got this, I can handle it.” Dean calmly affirmed.

“You in handcuffs.” Sam sniped.

“Kinky, right?” Dean smirked.

Sam rolled his eyes and practically grabbed Dean. “Hey, Hey.” Dean whispered attempting to stay put. “Seriously, I’ll win her over. We’ve done it before.” “I’m not bailing you out.” Sam warned.

“Get outta here.” Dean growled.

Sam sighed but gave in. It would help to have you on their side for this case. He shoved Dean back in and silently closed the door before taking off into the woods.

Coming back out of the house, completely unaware of their interaction, you threw the weapons in the passenger's seat on top of the locket. You sighed picking up your papers so you could record everything that just happened.

“This brings me back…” Dean started. You pretended not to listen, flipping through papers. “I was a wide eyed 22 year old stud… A fiesty girl with no regards for rules or authority sat next to me, that cross around her neck throwing me off at every turn.” You automatically grabbed at it even though it was no longer there. “I don’t know what she had in mind that night, but I was just glad to be by her… She stood by my innocence, even though she had no reason too…”

He was just playing minds games with you. Had to be. Every instinctive thought in your mind blared he was a cold blooded killer but your eyes darted to the rearview mirror and met his piercing green eyes in the back. You looked away flustered.

“Back then she told me a ghost story. I told her there was no such thing. Course, I thought I was protecting her. She didn’t need to know of the truly horrifying things that haunt this world. But maybe she’s old enough know to know the truth.” He rambled.

“She didn’t think monsters were real.” You piped in sarcastically. “Only to learn that she loved one and it now sits in the back of her car.” Shit! You squinted your eyes shut. Did you just use the word love?

Dean smiled and looked down at his feet, taken aback by your words. “I’m not a monster sweetheart, I’m what monsters are afraid of.”

“So, what? You think of yourself as some sort of vigilante?” You questioned.

He chuckled. “I guess you could say that.”

“Well, no one is above the law in my town.” You promised.

“Do you hold the ghost and demons to that same standard?” He played.

“If they existed, I’m sure I would.” You affirmed.

“Oh but they do. You just don’t want to believe or don’t have the will to see the patterns.” Dean explained.

“So your saying sweet ol’ Larry who lived in this cabin was some sort of monster and it was your job to put an end to it.” You clarified remember something about religious psychosis or cults in part of the criminal profile.

“No. Larry was a victim. While your wasting your time looking for a serial killer, Sam and I are hunting the real murderer… A kumiho.” He disclosed.

You turned around to face him. “A what?”

“A kumiho. An accent spirit from around East Asia. Goes by different names; Kitsune or Huli Jing. The difference with the kumiho though, it’s always a malevolent creature. It can shift between that of a fox or a woman in white. Always preying on men, cutting out their livers and eating it in order to survive… if it can’t get fresh meat, digs up graves for leftovers…” Dean explained and you shivered in horror unsure if you thought he was capable of such violence or that such a thing could actually exist. “You’re town had a problem with one about ten years ago. I thought my father had taken care of it, but obviously Sam and I need to clean up his mess.”

But you kept on your front. “I’m impressed, Winchester. You’ve obviously done your research. Or should I say your father had.” He raised an eyebrow questioning. “Oh, don’t play coy with me. Obviously, no matter how delusional, your basing these murders on lore that fits with the wave of Korean immigrants that came to mine in this town… oh was it… the 1950s?” “Interesting…” Dean pondered. “I wonder if you went back far enough in your police records if you would find the same pattern… maybe this 10 year thing is a hibernation of sorts...” He theorized.

The radio crackled through. “Y/N, you there?”

You grabbed it. “Yeah, go ahead.” Normally the first thing you would have done was call in the arrest, but you completely glazed over mentioning it now.

“Animal control got back with us… found fur down one of the holes, fox…” They explained over the radio, you gulped down your nerves trying to remain calm. “And, I don’t know… only prints around here we could find where the ground keeper’s… he doesn’t have much else to go one the women… expect dark hair and a long white dress.”

You made eye contact with Dean through the rearview mirror.

Another officer laughed. “Heh, maybe it was a ghost.”

“Shut up, Marc!” Another cop barked.

“Anyways, we can stake out the night if you think it’s worth following up on.”

You looked at Dean for guidance, he nodded his head. “Yeah, go ahead. It can’t hurt.” You ordered. “But for the love of god, if that over tanned ape of a man shows up, do not engage.” You referred to your favorite news anchor. “I’m going off air for a while. Call my cell in case of emergency.”

“Sure thing boss.” Marc followed up before you clicked off.

“Dean…” You turned back around to meet his eyes. “Let’s say your right... Let’s say I go against my every instinct that says you or your brother somehow planted that fur there… Where would we start?”

“We go looking for it’s den.” He calmly directed.

Either you were going mentally insane or Dean Winchester was telling the truth. Regardless of which one was right, you were about to place this entirety of this case in the hands of your number one suspect.

-----

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More Parts to Come

Forever: @nanie5 @sea040561 @crushing83 @mogaruke @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @ginamsmith @jotink78 @deanwinchstcrs @sup3r-pott3r-lock3d @dancingalone21 @li-ssu @highonpastries @daddy-kink-confirmed @weewooweewoo1212 @carryonmyswansong @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @atc74 @superapplepie @coolness22 @cassieraider @winchesternco @adaliamalfoy @iwriteaboutdean @spnbaby-67

DeanXReader: @akshi8278 @mywillfulwinchester @dainty-hibiscus @boxywrites @its-not-a-tulpa @mrsbatesmotel53 @tacklesackles @creepykatftw @aubreystilinski

BOACC: @shutupiminlooove @strawberryjuiceboxxx

#dean winchester #dean x reader #supernatural #spn #spn fandom #spnfanfic #dean x you #dean x y/n #sam winchester #fan fiction

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