#also a bit annoying how they can afford to go adopt a dog but helping me pay for renovations on the house is “too much at the moment”

[solardee]

So. We have a dog now.

My roommates went and picked him up this morning.

I was not aware we were getting a dog.

He's very cute, but I think we could have picked a better time for inter animal introductions.

Like when I'm not actively going to school, working full time *and* in the middle of house renovations.

[ravensbug]

Kuvira x reader au where she gets a cat please. I'm a shameless obsesser. Of both.

Jinx

Fandom: Legend of Korra

Ship: Kuvira x reader

Request: Yes

Prompt: ^^^^

A/N: I absolutely love this idea so much. My heart can’t handle all the adorable thoughts that come to mind. You are a genius Anon. Thank you for giving me this gift of a story to write.

There you two were, in the animal shelter, picking out a pet. After almost three months of convincing, Kuvira finally gave in and said yes. She saw how you missed the cats from your parents since you two had moved in together. Getting one wouldn’t be so bad she thought. It would mostly spend its time with you, you had promised to take care of it, so there was no reason for it to ever really bother her at home.

You were weaving your way around little kids whose parents had brought them to also get a pet. Most of them were looking at dogs anyway. Not that you didn’t like dogs, but you couldn’t exactly have one in an apartment.

When you got to the cats your eyes lit up. There were so many, and if it were up to you then you would take them all. But you promised Kuvira only one cat, for now.

You read each paper of every cat you walked by, looking for one that you knew would be perfect for the two of you. You knew if Kuvira would ever have gotten a pet by herself that it would have been a cat. Graceful and nimble, just like her. Also affectionate.

You probably spent a little too much time looking at each and every cat because a volunteer walked up to you.

“Looking for anything in particular?” he asked. You looked away from the cat that you were reading about.

“Kind of? I guess one that can handle being by itself, but also will be able to handle other cats in the future,” you shrugged. You felt Kuvira glare at you, but not in an angry way. It would be a long time before she thought about getting another cat.

“You should look at some of the younger cats then. Most of those are rescued from kitten mills or found abandoned at the sides of roads. They usually come in groups, but the cats seem to do fine on their own as well.” He talked as he directed you to the section of younger cats. You noticed now that some of them were pens together. The older cats were always by themselves.

The little meows of the younger cats tugged at your heart. The age differences were fairly big, there were old cats and cats who probably should still be with their mother. Your eyes landed on one of the pens in the back. You learned from your years of adopting cats that they put the ones that were less likely to be adopted there.

In one of those pens sat a small black kitten, maybe six months old. You looked at the papers, seeing the kitten didn’t even have a name. At this point your mind was made up. You knew the poor thing would be here for the rest of her life if you didn’t take her. Black cats were almost never adopted.

“This one.” you pointed at the kitten. She walked up to you since you had gotten there and attempted to sniff your hand.

“Are you sure?” Kuvira asked.

“I’m sure.” You looked up at Kuvira. She wasn’t going to second guess you again.

Kuvira had been over your parent's house plenty of times before you moved in with her to know that you liked all kinds of cats. Your parents currently had four cats. Two of them were Calicos, being brother and sister. One was a Maine Coon, who was the ‘mom’ of the group. The last one was a black cat, who was basically yours since he spent most of his time with you. Kuvira should have known that because of which cat you spent the most time with that you would choose one that looks like him.

“I’ll get the papers then. Another volunteer will get a carrier ready for her so you can take her home.” The volunteer walked off. You knew to meet him back at the front desk, as this was the same shelter your parents got the two Calicos at. Kuvira followed along, occasionally looking at some of the cats herself. This made you smile a little knowing she wasn’t completely disinterested in the idea of a cat.

You two waited a few minutes for the volunteer to come with the adoption papers. You smiled as you saw the excited kids leaving with their new companions. It was the best feeling in the world, to get a new friend who would love you just as much as you loved them. Even if they would be gone long before you would be.

“Just sign on the marked lines, pay the fee and you’re good to go!” The volunteer handed you a pen so you could sign the papers. In your opinion, you didn’t like the fact that you had to pay to adopt an animal, but you knew it was how the shelters stayed running. If it were up to you, you would have the government put funding into the shelters so they could afford to not have fees for adoption.

“Perfect,” the man smiled. “I’m glad she’s getting a home. She was the last one from her litter left,” he explained. It hurt your heart that whoever had adopted her siblings decided to leave her there on her own.

Another volunteer came out with the kitten in a carrier. You could see she was scared, but you knew that most cats were scared during and right after adoption. Kuvira was the one who took the carries from the volunteer, careful to keep it as steady as possible. You had never seen Kuvira so attentive to each and every movement she made. It was different from her dancing, even though the basic idea of precise movement was the same.

When you two finally got back to your apartment you were so giddy to let the cat out. Kuvira adored this side of you, so happy and excited, even if she wouldn’t say it out loud. Not that you hadn’t been happy since you moved in together, this was a happiness that was beyond that. It made Kuvira a little jealous.

Kuvira gently placed the carrier down on the floor in the living room. You were already sitting on the floor, having done this situation plenty of times. You motioned for Kuvira to sit next to you, which she thought was ridiculous. She wasn’t going to spend much time with the cat so what was the point of her joining you. The look you gave her made her give in, but only to make you happy.

Kuvira opened the cage with her metal bending and you two waited patiently for the cat to come out. She walked out of the carrier slowly, eyeing her surroundings for anything dangerous. Once she saw nothing except for you and Kuvira she finally came out of the carrier. Apparently, the small time of interaction with her at the shelter made an impact. She walked over to the both of you with caution.

You were the first to reach your hand out. You placed it on the floor, to make yourself seem less threatening. The cat stood still at first before coming up to sniff your hand. She didn’t have any problems with you so now it was Kuvira’s turn.

You grabbed Kuvira’s arm and placed it down on the floor like yours had been. You can tell how tense she is. She never did this with the other cats, them being adults and all. They just looked at her and didn’t really mind whenever she came over to your parent's house.

“Just relax,” you chuckled. You telling her to relax seemed to work a little, but she was still nervous.

The cat moved over to sniff Kuvira’s hand. It took its time, longer than it had with you, and that worried Kuvira. If the cat didn’t like her how would that make you feel? She at least wanted the cat to be fine with her.

When the cat rubbed her head against Kuvira’s hand you both were in shock. You put your hands in front of your face and you couldn’t stop grinning. Kuvira was frozen with the cat still rubbing her head on Kuvira’s hand. You thought this moment was ironic and perfect. The cat meowing at Kuvira just made it even better.

“She wants you to pet her,” you said, still grinning from ear to ear.

Kuvira moved her hand so she could pet the cat. She was still hesitant even though the cat clearly liked her. She had never been known as a fragile or soft person and this cat was exactly that.  When she finally started petting it, that little bit of fear went away.

“Have you thought of a name?” Kuvira asked while petting the cat.

“I was thinking Jinx,” you smiled.

Kuvira raised an eyebrow at you. The name was cliche but you loved it anyway. Kuvira didn’t really care what you named the cat. It was more yours than it was hers anyway.

As the weeks went on you spent more time bonding with Jinx. She finally warmed up to you and loved playing with you when you had the time. Working from home really helped the bond. She often curled up next to you or even on you while you were working. Those were the moments you missed from home.

What was even better, in your opinion, was that whenever Kuvira was home Jinx would follow her everywhere. Sometimes it got on Kuvira’s nerves, especially when she would turn around and almost trip over Jinx. You always thought it was the cutest thing in the world. You eventually decided to get Jinx a collar with a small bell, so Kuvira could hear whenever the cat was behind her. She never outright thanked you for that, because that would mean telling you the cat was annoying her.

Weeks turned into months and Kuvira finally took some time off of work. You were grateful that you could spend more time with your girlfriend now. Spending time with Jinx was nice and all, but being with Kuvira was nicer.

Because of her time off Kuvira started to do more things around the apartment. One of your favorites was when she would make dinner for the two of you. She had picked up a few things from the chef back when she lived with Su. You didn’t expect her to be a good cook because you knew all of Su’s kids were horrible at it.

One particular night, when she was cleaning up after you two had finished, Jinx was sitting patiently next to her in the kitchen. Kuvira hadn’t seen her do this before so she was slightly confused. You looked over from your spot on the couch and laughed.

“What?” Kuvira asked.

“She wants a piece of the chicken,” you told her.

“I’m not giving her a piece. She’ll learn to expect it every time we have it.” Kuvira looked over at you. You had a sheepish grin on your face, telling her why Jinx was sitting there so patiently.

“You’ve been giving her some before haven’t you?” She asked.

“Maybe.” You looked away. You had given her a few pieces every once and a while either when you were putting the leftovers away or giving Jinx her own dinner.

“Look at her, sitting so nicely. How can you deny that face?” you pouted. You heard Kuvira sigh and knew she gave in.

“Fine. But stop doing it so often.” Kuvira pointed at you with the knife she was using to cut up the remaining chicken.

“I can make no promises,” you smiled. You would try, but as you said, who could deny that face.

When Kuvira finished in the kitchen she joined you on the couch. You sat there with Kuvira’s arms wrapped around your waist. You loved it when she got time off of work. She loved it more than you did because sometimes work got to be too much. Coming home to you was the best part of her day. With the addition of Jinx in the house, she had become more accustomed to the cat coming up to greet her whenever she got home.

Jinx had hopped up on the couch while you two were snuggling and decided to climb on Kuvira’s lap. You heard her sigh, but she refused to move from her position. You looked down at Jinx, who had now curled up on Kuvira’s lap, and smiled.

“Y’know, she really likes you. Like more than she likes me,” you explained.

“How, she’s your cat. I’m also not home as often as you are,” Kuvira argued.

“I think that’s why. She doesn’t see you as often so she misses you. Plus she warmed up to you way faster than she did with me.” You knew more about cat behavior than she did. You also knew more about how people dealt with cat behavior more than she did.

“Pretty sure you like her more than you’re willing to admit,” you smiled.

“I tolerate her,” Kuvira mumbled.

“Which is why you’re letting her sleep on your lap and why you let her sleep on your side of the bed?” you smirked.

“She’s not as bad as I thought she would have been,” Kuvira admits. That’s what you were looking for.

“Well, I’m glad you like her.” You moved your hand to pet Jinx’s head. She meowed and stretched out across Kuvira’s lap. You heard Kuvira sigh, but that didn’t stop you from petting Jinx.

Kuvira eventually moved from holding you to sit up carefully, so as to keep the cat where she was. When she was done with that she gently picked up Jinx and held her in her arms. Jinx began to purr even though Kuvira wasn’t even petting her.

That image will forever be in your mind. It was perfect in every way. This is what home means to you.

[bitchapalooza]

Hetalia nekotalia headcanons(covering just a few of them)

It seems weird that the cats would just be called "Italy-cat" by the actual nation whose name is already Italy so I wasted my time in figuring out their possible breeds and searching up acceptable names(unless stated otherwise) for them that the nations may pick for them and even where the nations obtained these cats. I think they've come to value these cats on the same level as themselves due to how long they may have been around(the same goes for whatever other pet(s) they may own). I thought this was a fun thing to do and honestly it was! :)

Might do more when I get the time again~

***Tw for mentions of animal abuse***

Americat:

Domestic long hair, possible Maine Coon mix!

I think America adopted his cat in the 1980s. He was just a kitten, abandoned outside a supermarket in a box with a sign with one other kitten inside. At least 2 months old. America, having a big heart and soft spot for animals of any kind, took them both in. However he was already struggling to buy proper food for his other animals so he needed to find a different home for them. America ended up keeping one, as he fell absolutely head over heels for him, and named him Liberty— for obvious personal reasons. America raised him for the majority of his life as an indoor cat but with how much energy he has he decided to train him to be an outdoor cat as well, even teaching him to use the doggy door. This gave him enough room to actually grow faster into the adult cat he is now compared to if he'd ALWAYS be around America(as in staying small due to the slow aging around America).

Canacat:

Domestic longhair, possible Maine Coon mix!

Canada adopted him after America offhandedly asked. Canada was pretty stuck when it came to naming him. It was 4 weeks into owning him, mostly calling him a range of names such as Paul and Rookie but never sticking to one for even one whole day, but when Canada was just sitting there eating breakfast before leaving for his daily duties, just a normal quiet morning it came to him. Again, he was just sitting there. That is until the kitten figured out how to climb onto the chair next to him that is. He sat there meowing and pawing at Canada's thigh for 10 minutes while Canada ate. And then he tried to jump onto the table 3 times in a row. Canada gave in and allowed him up there for a minimum of 3 minutes. Not even 1 second passed and suddenly the little rascal is trying to steal the last couple bites of pancake. That was apparently what he wanted. And so Canada named him Pancake! Pancake was an energetic little kitten that a spring in his step but he did mellow out as he grew into adulthood. He's mainly an indoor cat. Come winter time when it snows, Pancake has a tendency to forget the existence of snow so he goes bolting for it only to regret it later.

Germany-cat:

A black or gray German Rex!

Germany isn't exactly a big cat person, he prefers dogs. But after this kitten followed Prussia's cat all the way home and noticed how thin he was he couldn't resist taking care of him. Germany ended up naming him Maus in reference to how tiny and often silent his meow was as a kitten. Now it's just a hilarious name as he's grown quite big and has a very strong meow! Maus is a very well behaved cat although it seems he doesn't favor being played with. He's most often seen at the top of his cat tower or in the window basking in the warm sun. As he was previously found as a stray outside he still does favor being outside. He tends to escape whenever Germany unlocks the doggy door or when Germany let's the dogs out in the backyard to run around for a bit. Maus may be a very mellow cat but he does tend to be loud when he wants food and doesn't want to wait for it. He also tends to attack people when suddenly being pet.

Prussia-cat:

An albino German Rex!

Prussia adopted him in 1998 after his and Germany's new home became a little overrun with mice. Prussia affectionately named him Gunther. Gunther was a spunky little kitten, in fact he was the runt of 6 other siblings and noticeably different to his siblings in appearance(originally thought to just take after the father's white coat despite the orange coats of his siblings and mother). Prussia chose him, the teeny little runt, after watching him easily sneak up and take down his bigger sister and win the play-fight he started. Prussia proudly took him home and trained him to catch the mice! Some years later, Gunther apparently got curious and brave and got loose outside. He was gone for weeks. He came back with a limp, a fresh scar, and a kitten clinging to his side. Gunther rarely escapes outside anymore. Prussia didn't know Gunther was albino until took he took him to the vet for his shots.

Itabby and Romano-cat:

They're both European shorthairs!

When the Italies were freshly unified and everything was still pretty awkward they were forced to go bond by taking walks every morning. Veneziano didn't mind this, he enjoyed the morning and even more so the countryside around them. Romano however could care less about it all and just wanted his bed back. Veneziano was all conversation, very observant of his surroundings as he commented on them to strike up an interesting conversation. And that's how he noticed a man cruelly stuffing two kittens into a sack on their way out of town. After alerting his brother, the two confronted the man. The man claimed these two were sick because neither were getting any of their mother's milk like the rest. Romano demanded he hand the kittens over or else he'd regret it. Veneziano annoyed him with his whining to the point where he gave in and handed them over quite harshly. Once they got them safely away from the man they took a look at the 1 week old kittens; they were both terribly skinny but clearly hanging on for dear life and the brothers both agreed, for once(well more like Romano kept saying "whatever the fuck you want"), that they wanted to help these poor creatures. Luckily for them they knew a stray cat that just had another litter of 3 and could perhaps try to get her to accept two more. And she did! Well it took a day but she did eventually take them in and feed them. Veneziano immediately decided that once they were old enough to eat solid foods he was going to keep one of them and name him Gino! It took a while for Romano to warm up to the idea of keeping even one but he eventually did. He took the other kitten and named him Sonno. They've lived so long due to just how clingy they are to the brothers. Their aging was so slowed down because of how often they're near the Italies that they didn't become fully grown adult cats until some time around 1932.

Japan-cat:

Japanese bobtail!

Named Yoshi* for being Japan's little lucky charm. Yoshi was left behind by his previous family after they moved away. He left his home and began wandering around until he got to Japan's house. Taking notice of how the cat stuck around his house, Japan began feeding him. And feeding him. And feeding him. And eventually he accepted the idea that he was now a cat owner. Not knowing his previous name, Japan decided to rename him Yoshi. Because of Yoshi, Japan began to come outside more and more each day as he is an outdoor cat that seldomly comes inside anymore. What's more is Yoshi came into his life in 1999, just a few months before 2000— aka when The Lost Decade was coming to an end as well as his personal on and off string of depressive episodes. Japan spoils Yoshi with treats and only the best cat food he can afford!

*The real name given to him by Himaruya is Tama, most likely a reference to calico cat Tama from Kinokawa, Wakayama Prefecture, Japan(that's at least what I've gathered). Before I knew this(in my early fandom days) I headcanoned his name to be Yoshi, as I said above it was a reference to luck(I didn't have as easy and unmonitored access to the internet as I do now so I never had a steady way to look these things up). I like Tama as well but I still can't get the name Yoshi out of my mind! I'm not sure if Yoshi and Tama can be combined like some names here in America can be combined(like Lilian Pad[as in Lily Pad] or Patches Poo) and I don't want to attempt it in case I get it wrong no matter how much research I do.

Austria-cat:

Domestic longhair!

Austria has quite the soft spot for this kitty surprisingly. He was born on his estate after his mother wandered in and settled between a couple bushes in his garden. He was born one of three kittens, almost entirely identical to his mother. Austria ended up giving names to all the cats but this one specifically was named Mozart— for very obvious reasons on Austria's part. The mother cat and two of the other kittens ended up moving along a year later after Austria decided to renovate part of his house; however the only one to stick around was Mozart. Austria would let Mozart come inside if only he could manage to pick him up. Mozart will jump into his lap outside, brush up against him, greet him in the morning, allow him to come near(especially with food and clean water) and even pet him but he won't ever peacefully allow Austria to carry him. Mozart was originally thought to be a Ragdoll however it was France who identified him to be a simple domestic longhair instead.

China-cat:

Burmese cat!

Originally a stray that endlessly bothered a shop owner and his own cat, China attracted his attention when he fed him only once. This cat followed him all the way to the hotel he was staying at not far from the little shop, which annoyed him greatly but honestly gave him a little laugh as well. As his car ride home was only going to be an hour at best he decided to at least attempt to bring the little fella home for proper care and attention. And obviously it worked. On his way home he decided a name like Zhi seemed perfect for him! Something told China Zhi was used to car rides and being around people, which told him Zhi was originally in a loving home. Feeling a little sad that this nice loyal cat was living on the streets he began to pamper him. Now Zhi expects to be brushed twice a day, let out at least once a day to soak in the sun's warmth and lay in the soft grass. He's fed the best food possible, has more toys that he knows what to do with. China's cellphone is overrun with videos of Zhi playing fetch— a trick he didn't teach him which, to him, is further proof he had a previous owner.

Russia-cat:

Siberian cat!

Taken in from a rescue shelter, at first fostered, then adopted. Russia kept the name the shelter gave him, Boris, as it fit him very well considering his past. Boris was unfortunately neglected when his previous owner was around. His fur was matted, he was skin and bones, upon pick up he had an eye infection. He was terribly scared of people. After being treated and showed kindness, it wasn't very long for him to open up. When Russia came along and took him in to give him all the proper attention he lacked, Boris fell in love with it. And Russia fell in love with having a cat around. Before anyone could swoop in and try to adopt Boris, Russia already put in to adopt. Now Boris is a happy healthy cat who's favorite toy to play with is Russia's supply of yarn. Boris loves bird or feather based toys the most, however, and will often drag his favorite feather wand over to Russia so he'd play. He's not much of an outdoor cat but after being kept mostly in a small cage since birth he does enjoy at least laying on the porch outside.

France-cat:

A Sacred Birman with light creamy point colouration!*

Obtained as a newly born kitten in 1992, France had offered to help nurture him as his mother had died shortly after giving birth. France named him Minou, more so in honor of his deceased mother Minet rather than it being a common French cat's name(some assume he was lazy with his naming). Minou grew up to be properly spoiled and loved by France. From the time he could see and walk properly, France began putting light outfits and accessories on him for very small amounts of time(like hats and ties mainly to avoid overheating). Minou often silently greets France at the door whenever he comes home, barreling through the hallway or off the couch in order to get some much needed love and attention. He surprisingly gets along very well with France's pet birds, only ever going after them once as a kitten. Minou can be found in his luxurious cat bed made of cardboard from the cat tower's box and a quilt France had crafted long long ago that's now drastically torn in various places. OR he can be found planting his fanny on France's face at night, nearly suffocating him. Minou seems to have a likeness for Russia and England.

*I know France-cat doesn't have any visible point colorations to him but him being a Persian doesn't fit him in my opinion, especially a blue eyed white cat. There's a high percentage of blue eyed white cats being deaf. However a common trait in Birmans are blue eyes so that, to me, fits better.

Iggycat:

Scottish fold-American shorthair mix!*

Obtained through a small litter from a colleague. England named him Lopsy  immediately upon seeing him, completely falling in love with him. Due to Lopsy's health concerns(osteochondrodysplasia) he's strictly an indoor cat. He's not very playful due to the pain he endures so he's prone to lay about, especially in England's lap, in his cat bed that sits directly under the window to reach the sunlight, or under England's bed. Despite being on them for so long, it still takes quite the struggle to give Lopsy his medication as he's come accustomed to when England is preparing to give it to him. As he's not very active, Lopsy isn't too fond of France's, America's, or Canada's cats— all of which tend to love playing together. However there are times when Minou is in non-playful mode where Lopsy will lay near or eat with him, but will absolutely refuse to lay with since Minou does have a tendency to attack another cat's tail without warning.

*The reason I see him as a mix is due to the major health concerns breeding two Scottish folds together can bring. However, breeding a Scottish fold with an American shorthair or British shorthair is often the better choice as there's less issues involved. There's talk about banning the breed all together. Even with this talk, breeding persists, preferably for cat shows from the sound of it. There's even research going into fixing these health concerns but it seems incurable due to the Scottish fold disease seeming to be a very dominant trait no matter what secondary breed it's bred with. Scottish fold disease doesn't always occur in a litter, mostly being a 50% change.

Spain-cat:

European shorthair!

Named Vivo for his lively personality, this little guy was found in the rain, drenched and hungry. He looked to be roughly 3 months old, very well fed and groomed so Spain assumed he had a family he ran away from for whatever reason. Without any other solution, Spain took him in until someone came to pick him up. A few weeks go by without anyone coming to claim him, so Spain opted to keep Vivo. Vivo is very loving, he possess a strong purr and often falls asleep purring. He's a lap cat but also has a tendency to curl up on or near Spain's shoulder when he's on the couch. Vivo is mainly an outdoor cat, often chasing mice or other vermen away from the garden without ever destroying it. Spain is pretty grateful to of found him as it had gotten quiet with Romano gone and all. And Vivo defiantly brought some noise to the house! He's not always vocal but when he is he tends to run around happily meowing for attention. He's surprisingly very territorial however— when introduced with then young kits Gino and Sonno, the Italies' cats, Vivo almost attacked them. It took small steps forward to get the three of them to warm up to each other. It also took a while to warm Vivo up to Minou and Gunther.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #400

“it’s an age-old story: the first will be last, and the last will be kings  /  the small will be great, and the great will be weak”

Who was the last person you sincerely thanked? My mom; I thank her every time she cooks for me/us, and I really do mean it. What’s the longest you’ve ever stayed as a guest at someone’s house? Somewhere around a month. What was the last thing to really surprise you? My brother has a fiancee and is having another son! :') Have you ever found out that you have been sleep walking? No. Have you ever tried making something from one of those short cooking videos? How did it turn out? No. Have you ever written a review for a product you bought online? No. What was the last thing you had the urge to do? Idk about anything notable. Is there anyone you feel that takes you for granted? No. What is the last thing you had a craving for? A donut. Do you ever read the comments on social media posts? Sometimes. What was the last thing you felt like you wasted money on? It's so rare that I buy things with my own cash that I really don't know. What was the last thing you wanted to buy, but couldn’t afford? Venus' terrarium on my own. Mom has to help me with buying it. What is a recipe you’d like to try to make for yourself? I don’t cook, so. What goes through your mind when you look back at old photographs of yourself? More than anything, I get sad over how much weight I've gained. I was so healthy once upon a time. It also just makes me miss my childhood. What was the subject matter of the last email you sent? I believe it was about setting up an appointment with my therapist. How do you get your news? Facebook articles, really. What do you think about lizards? I love them! I was that kid that always tried to catch them when I saw 'em. Now I just observe because I don't want to terrify them by trying to pick them up. Have you ever done consumer testing (testing products before they come out on the market)? If not, would you ever want to? No, but sure, I'd do it. Have you ever received anesthesia or morphine? Both. The time I received morphine, it did jack-all for me. If you had to choose which video game to be in, which would it be? Hmmm... I would say Azeroth from World of Warcraft, but too much shit goes down, ha ha. Perhaps the top of the temple in Shadow of the Colossus? So long as I could have someone I love with me, I'd be in Heaven. Although... I doubt there's WiFi there, so I might drop that answer, lmfao. I really don't know. Between the two, would you rather live in a place where it’s only night or where it’s only day? Day. I need the natural light of day sometimes, and if I wanted to sleep, I could just find shade. If you had to be an actor/actress in a movie, what genre of the movie would you be best at? Fantasy. Out of fire, earth, water, wind, light, and dark, which element appeals the most to you? Dark. What’s one thing that you wish was real? Friendly dragons, haha. Is there anything (show, comedian, etc.) that you constantly quote or make references to? No. What’s your favorite Disney Channel movie? I have absolutely no idea. I don't even remember almost any of them. What’s your favorite holiday? Christmas. Do you ever have to do yard work? No. Do you have any live versions of songs in your music software? Yes. Did/do you listen to Britney Spears songs? Yeah, sometimes. I genuinely don't mind her. Do you still make Christmas lists? Yeah, because I'm asked to. Do you watch the show Dexter? Never seen it. Which musical instrument do you think sounds the prettiest? I'm torn between the violin, harp, and piano. Is your mom or dad the older parent? Mom, by a year. Do you and your parents like any of the same bands/singers? A lot, actually. Is there any food in your bedroom? What? I have these tictacs I keep in my purse in case of a dry mouth. Medication makes me have that severely, and my psychiatrist recommended me to always have a hard candy available to suck on since it forces salivation. Do you know anyone who has road rage? Who? My younger sister, badly. How far away do your grandparents live from you? They're all dead, but they lived in far away states. Do you know anyone who wants to be the president one day? No. What kinds of chips are in the cupboards? None. It's a bad idea to keep chips in this house, haha. Do you have your mom's or dad's hair? Well, I was born with dirty blonde hair like my dad, but my hair is thick and more similar in color now to my mom's before the cancer completely drained the color. If you were going out with your celebrity crush, what would you wear? OH MY GOD LA;KSDJFAKLWJE I DON'T KNOW I LOOK AWFUL IN EVERYTHING. Have you ever cried when a teacher retired? Teared up, yes, multiple times. Do you swear and yell while playing video games? I might swear under my breath, but that's the extent of it. If you were adopted, would you want to know? At this point in my life, I don't really know. I kinda find myself leaning towards no. Has a best friend ever ditched you for a girlfriend/boyfriend? Pretty much. Do your pets chase after bugs? Roman sure does. When’s the last time you were so excited you couldn’t sleep? Why? I want to say that was the night before I was getting my tattoo redone. Do you own any flip-flops? Yeah, considering they're like... all I wear, ever. Did you ever really believe that the stork brought babies? I don't believe so, no. Have you ever had a dream about sleeping with a celebrity? (You don’t have to give details.) It was the only lucid dream I've ever had and I'm not complaining about it lmao. Have you ever had a dream that upset you or made you cry? Oh I'm sure. Has anyone ever told you that they needed you? Do you think they meant it? Not to my recollection, no, and I don't believe you should ever adopt that mentality and say that to someone. Do you own a laser? No. Is there anything you like to put on a sandwich, that some might find odd? Nah. I do enjoy a layer of potato chips on some sandwiches, like ham and cheese, but I know that's like an actual thing some people just like. What colour are the shoes you wear most often? They're black flip-flops. When was the last time you were required to put on a mask? In the morning when I go to the TMS office. And what colour was the last mask you wore? It's one of those normal blue and white medical ones. The last time you were in a queue, what were you waiting for? To see the woman who would give me my APAP mask. Have you had your Covid vaccine yet? Which one, if you have? Yes, Moderna. If you've had your vaccine, did you experience any side effects? None for the first shot, but my second shot bruised badly and I felt seriously shitty the following day. I was perfectly fine afterwards, though. Can any of your friends sing well? Which one has the nicest singing voice? Sara has an AMAAAAAAAAAAAZING voice. When was the last time you wore make-up, if ever? What shades/colours? I don't even remember, but I'm sure it would've been black. What is something that seems popular, but doesn't interest you personally? Fashion, various TV shows, etc... Are you clumsy or graceful? I am STUPID clumsy. Like it's just ridiculous. Do you like gloves? I like fingerless gloves. Does your sibling(s) have braces? My older sister did as a kid. Do you ever say "OMG" in person? No; it's a random pet peeve of mine, "Internet talk" irl. What was the last thing your parents got mad at you for? Dad, no idea. Mom, uhhhh. Not "mad," but "annoyed" probably better fits how she felt about me leaving the heating pad I use for my cramps on the floor. Do your pets have favorites? I'm definitely Roman's favorite seeing as he is my literal shadow, and I'd assume Venus trusts me more than anyone else, but realistically, she's in contact with almost no one else, so. Who was your first boyfriend/girlfriend? Why did you break up? The first guy to have the title of "boyfriend" was Aaron, and I broke up with him 'cuz I just wasn't as romantically into him as I thought I might be. It was puppy-dog love, and I feel I knew that. My first *real* boyfriend was Jason, who broke up with me because my mental illnesses began to affect his wellbeing. Which I now accept is fine, but he seriously coulda gone about things differently... When was the last time you got a new bed? Is your bed comfy? Late into my teenage years; idk the exact age and don't feel like doing the math. Teddy kept peeing on the bed to where it was just unrecoverable and needed to be thrown away. My current bed is comfy enough. What kind of games did you play on the playground when you were younger? My absolute favorite was digging tunnels in the sandbox, pretending to be a meerkat. The only trend I ever created, haha, seeing as my classmates got into it with me, allowing us to make huge tunnel systems. It was really cool. I also liked playing 4 Square (which I now don't even remember the details of) on the basketball court. Do you remember the first time you ever drove a car? Who were you with? Yeah, my driver's ed instructor and the guy who was on the same route as me. What’s your favorite thing to do when drunk? Would you do this sober? N/A Are you a fan of dogs? Do you have any as pets? I'm picky with dogs. I like interacting with any dog, but I don't plan on ever owning another. I don't like how hyper they can be, and I prefer more independent pets, like cats. Basically, I'll be hyped to meet a random dog on the street and give it some loving, but I don't want to take it home to be my own. Are you an elitist (even a little bit) when it comes to anything? What? No. I cannot stand elitists. Is just being fond of something enough, or does it take more than that to be a ‘real fan’? And I hate gatekeeping in fandoms even more. There are varying intensities of "being a fan," but regardless, if you like something, congratulations, you're a valid, "real" fan. What type of fabric is most comfortable for clothing? I don't pay attention to this, honestly. If you wear one – bras with or without a wire? I'll wear either, but without is way more comfortable. If you wear one – are you able to find cute bras in your size? God no. What length do you like your shorts to be? I don’t wear shorts. What was the last disappointing movie you saw? Warcraft, but not because it was bad. I've talked before how in the theater, the orcs' voices were just so fucking baritone that I couldn't understand almost ANYTHING they said. Kinda ruined the experience for me. What was the last disappointing book you read? Don't recall. Do you ever watch compilation videos? Of what? Very rarely. If I do, they're mostly of animals being silly. Favorite Disney character who isn’t royalty? Probably Dory, but idk. There's WAY too many options to fish through.

[usagichanp]

lexthan

*rubs hands together* I was hoping someone would ask me that

This is gonna be a long one folks.

General:

Rate the Ship -  

Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - Life long partners, babey.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - I think they had crushes on each other for a while. They didn't officially say "I love you" till a few months into their relationship, but they thought it sooner.

How was their first kiss? - I wrote a lesbian Lexthan version of their first kiss, though I don't think canon Lexthan's first kiss was like that. I imagine it to be not really planned out; just like they're talking to each other in the car and lock eyes, then slowly lean in and kiss. Since they've had kisses before, it's not a catastrophe, and it's actually fairly soft.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Ethan. Wrote a whole ass fic about it.

Who is the best man/men? - I know who the best man is in my fics (it's my man Marsh, for those who have read it), but idk about the canon Ethan's best man. Maybe Danny (the Smoke Club Boy) but I'm not sure if they'd be friends enough to be his best man. He might not have one.

Who is the bride's maid? - Hannah. Duh.

Who did the most planning? - Ethan, but Lex chipped in too. Tom might help as well if asked lol

Who stressed the most? - Ethan. Though their ceremony isn't big, he still wanted it to be a good memory down the road (it was)

How fancy was the ceremony? -

Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

First they had just a courthouse wedding where they signed the papers, then had a tiny wedding ceremony with only close friends. Even if they could afford a proper wedding (Canon Lexthan prolly couldn't afford it) I don't think they'd want a big affair anyways. It's be exhausting.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Lex's mom. Obviously.

Sex:

Now we're getting to the good part lads

Who is on top? - Ethan is a fucking switch. You can't convince me otherwise. He tops maybe like... 60/40 or 65/35. But when Lex tops, she tops bitch.

Who is the one to instigate things? - Ethan likes instigating things since he's a horny teenage boy, but it Lex doesn't want to, he stops. Sometimes Lex instigates, but usually when she does she's in the mood to top.

How healthy is their sex life? -

Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

I'd give it a 7.5, depending on the situation. While they try to tone it down around Hannah, when they have alone time they'd totally go for it. Ethan's glovebox in his car has a box of condoms in it at all times. What can I say, as I said before, they're horny teenagers

How kinky are they? -

Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

They don't like seeing each other hurt so they wouldn't like BDSM. They're not vanilla but nothing too crazy- blindfolding, light bondage (aka tying hands up with rope or cloth), scratching, light spanking, pegging

How long do they usually last? - It depends on how much time they have to have sex. They've done quickies in bathrooms or whatever before, but if they have all night then they're pretty good at prolonging it.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Absolutely. It is said in multiple fics (I think?) of mine that Ethan makes sure Lex has the same amount of orgasms as he does. Always.

How rough are they in bed? -

Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

They certainly can have slow, soft, romantic sex, but Ethan is also 100% capable of rocking Lex's world so hard she can't walk right for a week. (That happens in my first fic, Cassieopia, albeit off screen)

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? -

No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

1) I fucking love that metaphor 2) They don't get much physical affection at home, so they fucking love snuggling and cuddling- whether it be after sex or just hanging out. Sometimes they cuddle as a form of stress relief after a shitty day.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - 2, maybe 3.

How many children will they adopt? - I think they might prefer to have children naturally, but in my California series they gain custody of Hannah when she's 12. Does that count?

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Lex forces Ethan to learn how to change diapers. That being said, Lex isn't half bad at changing them either, since she helped change Hannah's when she was a child.

Who is the stricter parent? - They're not exactly strict parents, but both Lex and Ethan can definitely scold the kid. ("hAnNaH! tHaT bEtTeR bE fUcKiNg fLoSs!!!!!") That being said, both take care to not be abusive to their child, especially Lex. She doesn't want to be like her mom, so she tries to keep her temper in check.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Ethan has good reflexes, and has stopped his kids from falling and hitting their chin on a playground structure more than once. (Fun fact! That happened to me when I was 3. I fell from a steel elephant shaped jungle gym at a German zoo, hit my chin on a steel bar, and bit through my lower lip/knocked 3 teeth out. I still have the scar years later lol)

Who remembers to pack their lunches? - Lex. Though the lunches aren't always the healthiest.

Who is the more loved parent? - I think they're both loved, but maaaaaybe Ethan a bit more.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - Neither would attend PTA meetings out of the goodness of their hearts. If Lex or Ethan would go to a PTA meeting, it'd most likely be because they wanted to yell at a teacher or principal. They might go seperately or together depending on the severity of the issue.

Who cried the most at graduation? - Ethan wouldn't admit he cried, but he did. So did Lex.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Oh bitch, Lex and Ethan both said fuck the law. If it was just like, an overnight jail cell for some stupid misdemeanor, they might try to break their kid out. Otherwise, Lex would probably the one paying the bail because Ethan would try to punch the cop in the face if the cop talked shit about Ethan's kid. That reaction is not exclusive to cops.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Neither of them are exactly 5 star chefs, but they can hold on their own. Lex is better at cooking breakfast and Ethan is better at cooking dinner- but if he's exhuasted from work, Lex can cook dinner for him.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Neither are picky. Both of them grew up young scrappy and hungry just like their country without really the chance to be picky. They had to take what they could get.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Lex. She's good at calculating totals in her head. I wrote that in an unrealeased fic.

How often do they bake desserts? - Rather rarely. Perhaps on special occasions or to bond. Ethan has ruined the kitchen with his kid trying to bake a cake for Lex at least once. Maybe more.

Are they more of a meat lover or salad lover? - Meat lovers, babey. Fuck that fancy plant bullshit.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Ethan. I wrote that in the proposal fic.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Depends on what you count as "going out". Lex likes going to McDonalds, but Ethan is the one who suggests eating at actual restaurants.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - Ethan, but both have had near misses.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Both had fairly messy rooms as teenagers so they're not super anal about having sparkling clean rooms. That being said, when someone comes over Lex does try to tidy the place up a bit. At least enough to make it seem like they have their shit together. Ish.

Who is really against chores? - Ethan can be a bit of a lazy bones sometimes, but Lex isn't exactly a huge fan of chores either. However, she is used to doing chores since she practically raised herself and Hannah.

Who cleans up after the pets? - They take turns. Both hate it.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Ethan, because he doesn't want to incur Lex's wrath.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Lex. As I said above, she actually actively cleans the house beforehand. Not to the level of that freaking out mom from the comedy video who's name I can't remember tho.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Ethan. He has a nack for finding random bits of money. Score.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Lex, though both take relatively quick showers to save water.

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - They actually like doing it together. It's nice to get some fresh air, and they enjoy each other's company.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Ethan goes over the top, partially to annoy Lex. You know that Christmas tree Chris Pine vine? Yeah, Ethan would fucking do that.

What are their goals for the relationship? - Live a better life together than they did in Hatchetfield. White picket fence and California dreams shit.

Who is more likely to sleep till noon? - Ethan, but Lex is known to sleep till 3 in the afternoon if she's really tired.

Who plays the most pranks? - Ethan. That's literally canon.

I can babble about them all day lol

[unmanageable-day]

16. Between a friend and another friend

When you are friends for so long, and it has never come across your mind to date one of them. Until one particular guy friend of yours came to offer you a relationship, a new chapter of life like no other before.

prev | next

Taeyong wished he could skip the dinner invitation from Yuta who specially arranged it for you and Doyoung. He didn't have to come though. But you had personally texted him in the morning, asking—making sure that he would be there. Now he felt obliged to come. Despite the fact he had talked with you and Doyoung, basically suggesting he was now (still trying to be) cool with your relationship, how he wished there is a pain killer for his longtime broken heart.

There you were, approaching the group with a big smile. Doyoung walked behind you. On the contrary, he looked tense but he tried to give his best smile. This dinner was held to celebrate you and him after all. Maybe he was just nervous to meet Taeyong again.

Somehow you just made the way to sit beside Taeyong. Doyoung had no choice but to follow you. He would never choose to sit across you to have better sight of you and Taeyong.

Taeyong felt it again. That happiness, warmth, and the comfort whenever you were around, yet pain wouldn't leave him. He must know his boundaries. And he must witness all your interaction with the dearie fiancee. Although, little did he know, Doyoung felt the more or less similar.

Trying his best to shrug off all the bothering feelings, Taeyong would just respond at the bare minimum to everything you said. Yet he effortlessly earned your attention, making him like the center of your world no matter the least words coming out of his mouth.

He lost it.

The initial intention was not to get too close to you. Instead, you were the one who kept approaching him, merely thinking because things were cool and you could have your bestfriend back. Taeyong found himself unable to reject your friendly gestures. He kept coming back at you, like he used to be, with random stories about his niece and nephew, a new dog he was going to adopt, the never-ending battle in games with Jaehyun, and how he wanted to re-decorate his closet. Just like the old days, you would actively respond with enthusiast. The little giggles you let out whem he told you silly stuff of how clumsy he was. Oh, how he had been longing to hear that.

Taking things even further, he also kept making sure you have something on your plate. He knew you were not into seafood dish, beside that you were allergic to some of it. He forgot to tell Yuta to not pick a seafood restaurant. He knew you can't eat spicy food too much, that was why he would always have a taste before giving something to you. He would do all of this unconsciously and he couldn't stop himself. Even after realizing that Doyoung seemed bothered.

Doyoung was mostly paying his attention to the youngsters. Or more like diverting his attention so he didn't have to look whatever Taeyong did for you.

"Doyoung, try this." You had nacho chips with tomato salsa in your hand, ready to feed him. He took a quick glance at Taeyong, who was not looking at you. He accepted the nacho with a shy smile yet he felt a little victory.

"Yummy, right? I think I can eat this my whole life. It looks like it's easy to make too," you commented as you took another bite.

"Don't. Let's just go here if you want to eat this. You'll leave crumbles all over the place at home." Soon he exposed you how he had to do the cleaning after you cooked—more like experimenting a new dish you never did—and ate the food in the living room. Non-stop complains and nagging kept coming out of his mouth.

Taeyong's ears sting at the word home, which followed by the stories he didn't want to hear about your new life. Doyoung's voice sounded like murmurs as sharp as knife piercing both his ears and heart. He instantly lost focus and stayed quiet, while your friends were laughing and chattering. He couldn't even smile when the youngsters were teasing Doyoung.

"Oh, what to do.. Our Joo-ey noona has to spend her entire life with Hyung's nagging," Donghyuk said dramatically.

"Since we live closer now, Noona can visit us easily anytime. Especially when Noona is fed up with Hyung," Jaemin added. "We will send Jeno there and we are very happy to exchange Jeno for you."

"Jaemin, not you too!" Doyoung hissed.

"Be ready to pick up my call everyday, guys," you replied their jokes. "Ah, right. Since I live nearby, it would be easier for me to get a ride home. Johnny, Jaehyun, my office is the closest with you guys." You wiggled your eyebrows at the giant guys.

"What, why? I will pick you up." Doyoung protested.

"It would be faster if I go home with Jaehyun though?"

"Eyy, Hyung, Joo-ey noona already stays with you. She can't even take a rest on the way home? She must want to have some time not being with you." Donghyuk butt in again.

"Look at you speaking, Lee Donghyuk." Doyoung pointed at him with a bread instead of his finger, his expression was rather funny than threatening.

"Taeyong hyung, this hyung bullies me," he cried, still teasing the bunny guy. "Noona, too, you will join us against Doyoung hyung, right?"

You let out a crisp laugh. "Anything for baby Hyuckie."

"That's right!" he exclaimed with his annoying face that never fails provoking Doyoung. "Teaming up with Taeyong hyung is much better than with Doyoung." Donghyuk meant it as a joke. Either you, Doyoung, and Taeyong himself knew that better than anyone else. But the three of you slightly got worked up. If Johnny didn't cut in to save the mood, the tension in the air between you, Doyoung and Taeyong would be too obvious.

Taeyong couldn't help but feeling envious and jealous. He imagined it over and over, would it be the same if you chose to be with him? Would he now sit where Doyoung was sitting, bickering like lovebirds with you?

"Taeyong?" you softly called him, making him flinched now that he had gotten back go reality.

He always liked the way you call his name. It was always soothing his ears. Sometimes he wondered if you call Doyoung that way too. But why would it matter? Doyoung had all the privilege to be with you 24/7 now.

"I think I'll head back home first. It looks like Doyoung's brother sent us something. The delivery guy is waiting for us," you told him.

Nodding was the only answer he could give. Again, how he wished it was him who gets to leave with you. He silently watched the figures of you and Doyoung walking away without looking back. You'd often rub Doyoung's back and stretch up your neck talking to him. Taeyong hated himself for asking this over and over; why it can't be him. Why Doyoung instead of him?

Johnny, Jaehyun, Mark and Yuta ended up taking him out for another round of drinks and some more of late night snack. They kept saying 'good job' and 'you've gone through a lot', hoping it could console him even for a bit. Yet those words couldn't even penetrate his ears anymore. His throat felt numb as he chugged on his drink, not even bothered to feel the burning sensation of the alcohol.

Taeyong felt a buzz from his phone inside his sling bag. He didn't feel like knowing who contacted him this late at night, yet he still checked his phone. When he saw your name popping up on the notification of new messages, again, the mixed feelings filled his heart. To him, you were that close yet so far. He could easily come to you, but he wouldn't be able to reach your hand. If he pushed himself, either he couldn't afford letting you go, or you would end up leaving him again. Pretending to be strong was never this difficult. From : Joo Great to see you today. I know you had a hard time and you went through a lot. But you are stronger than you know. You did well. You always do. Thank you once again. And one more thing... I'm sorry. —

on the way back home from restaurant

"Doyoung?"

"Hm?"

"Don't think too much of what the kids said. You and I know how much jokesters they are," you calmly said, as if having the capability to read his mind. "I would never compare you and him. Both of you are my friends. I cherish you both."

Teaming up with Taeyong is better. With Taeyong is better. Taeyong is better.

Doyoung would acknowledge that. Even when he was the one with you right now, Taeyong would still win.

Yeah, sure, both Doyoung and Taeyong were your beloved friends. But why did it feel like he had to compete with Taeyong? The intention of marrying you was merely for Doyoung to have a normal life as someone's husband who will make the wife, the parents, and the in-laws happy. He knew he was capable of that. You were not someone he chose after going for a deep thinking. He was just 'oh, I think she's good and we both know each other for a long time, so it should be easy' and there he was now. Everything went smoothly until he realized there was this man named Lee Taeyong and his great willingness to walk through fire for you if he has to. It was truthfully one part that Doyoung never thought it would be this severe. None of his intention ever had something to do with him. Thr relationship with Hyemi used to be promising to be the long-term one. Who knew it would get crushed by Taeyong himself? Why can't he just stay with Hyemi? Doyoung even had imagined it before, him and Taeyong being married with the significant other, complaining about marriage life, sharing their old married couple stories, and also the happy and dark days in child caring when they got much older. Honestly it was a beautiful future he had hoped. Yet now he and him became rivals?

"I don't," he lied, giving you a smile to convince you enough.

Was it Doyoung's fault to choose you out of all people?

You smiled back at him, hugging him from the side part and rubbing his back.

No. Up to this second, you never brought up any sensitive topic about the relationship that will be official in a matter of weeks. Doyoung kept reassuring himself that he had made it clear to you if in any time you doubt anything, you could call it off.

Calm down, Kim Doyoung. She already chose to be with you. If she doesn't have any regret, then this should be the right thing to do.

[cakesunflower]

sentence prompts

OKAY SO i have a google doc full of like sentence prompts and these are 30 of them so uhhh maybe pick one + a (5sos) boy & maybe i’ll write something up for it?? i can’t promise the length, some may be longer/shorter than others, but yeah. please???

I’m on the bus and my 2-year-old won’t stop crying, except you just smiled at them and they did

I asked you to babysit one time and now my child keeps asking when you will spend time with them again

you asked me to the store with you and your child, and now my distant relative we met thinks I’m married with a baby

we are friends and my child’s first word was your name and I’m jealous but also kind of endeared

you’ve been sleeping at mine because your house is being renovated and we aren’t even dating, yet every time you wake up to the baby crying and sigh, “I’ll go” I feel like we might as well be married

our children are in the same class and we both hate their teacher, eventually the parents’ evenings are just us competing who can call out snarkier comments

we are the only two parents who agreed to attend the school trip (bonus: “so I guess we share this hotel room?”)

our children are best friends….yeah

I’m a struggling single parent who just got a steady job and I’m waiting in the principal's office because my kid bit another kid and man this parent is really lat-oh its my new boss oh god no

My son is blind and your son took it upon himself to be his personal bodyguard at school and can I just say you have a really great kid- oh you’re blind too.

My kid is great at sports and we had to move mid-season due to me getting a promotion, please let them on the team they’ll hate me forever otherwise, your kid already likes them too!

My kid is die hard rivals with this other kid in his club/team, and i just had to leave a really nice blind date because they got in a fight and the parents were called and oh hey its you.

Rivals from two different schools AU

Parents are CEO’s of rivaling companies AU

my family’s royalty and you work with yours in the local popular bakery and my parents, the king and queen, asked for your services for a ball and you’re invited to it and wow you’re probably sweeter than the cakes you brought

you work at this wealthy country club and i’m a regular who happens to think you’re very cute and i sorta wanna make my parents mad by flirting with you but i won’t tell you that

we’re just friends living in a shabby apartment and the shower stops working and we have to share cold water and we can only afford one bed tho it’s okay because we have each other but wait who’s this person you brought home last night nevermind we’re just friends

we hate each other but our parents are friends and set us up on a date and we’re messing with them so they’ll lay off tho you’re taking this fake dating to extremes and i quite like it but shut up i hate you why is your hand on my knee when they’re not around we’re just pretending ??

you’re my siblings bf / gf or best friends sibling and the first person you turn to is me and we stay up talking on the phone until 3am every night until we’re closer than they know and i don’t think this is okay

We met in Vegas one night and woke up next morning in a honeymoon suite naked, hung over and married AU

You are my annoying next door neighbor and you keep me up all night with your partying AU

You’re an underwear model and there’s a giant billboard of your toned body just across from where I work so I have to look at you every day AU

We meet every day on our lunch break by the hot-dog stand and one time I forget my wallet so you buy me a hot-dog (it was not a date ) AU

it’s my tradition to eat twizzlers while marathoning this show on it’s anniversary but i ran out so i’m in the walmart candy aisle at 2 am crying because i can’t find the twizzlers please help me

I adopted a kid and you help me take care of them all the time since we’re neighbors, but you came over and got so involved in the kid’s life so much they think that we’re both their parents instead of just me

I have a crush on my younger sibling’s tutor, but I don’t know how to work myself into the scene without making everything incredibly awkward for me

We’ve been hooking up for the past few weeks and holy shit it turned out you’re my fifth grader’s teacher oh god this embarrassing

my mom tried to set me up with someone over the phone but i told her i was already seeing someone else and that was a lie but, see, i’m going to my parents’ house for the weekend and they really want to meet this person so will you pretend to be my date?

we’re both high school teachers serving as chaperones for a school trip and our students kinda ship us and i think they somehow rigged the hotel rooms so we have to share one? and i’m so sorry in advance because i snore

i work at a convenience store that you frequent and i swear to god if i see you put something back where it doesn’t belong ONE MORE TIME…

[ladyrussellsprouts]

Farm to Table

A Reylo AU One-shot in which our hero and heroine learn more organic ways of bringing food to the table. Rated MA for hardcore smut and language. 

The weather woman’s voice was almost apologetic as she spoke, “Ours highs today will reach up to 110 degrees with 45% humidity...” 

Kylo Ren did not hear the rest of her words as he let her message sink in. He’d have to be outside today in that blistering unforgiving sun. There would be no shade out in the fields and water would be scarce. There had never been enough for the ranch hands at Order & Co. The owner was a stingy man who cared about more results and produce than the men and women who toiled the fields for his empire. 

Finishing the drink in his hand, he refilled the canteen he kept strapped to his waist before heading toward the fields. Contemplating the day ahead of him, he didn't hear the light footsteps that came down the stairs. 

A spiry body bounded into his side before letting out a quick apology. Annoyed at how soft she felt against him, Kylo Ren grimaced at the familiar figure and pushed his way out the door. 

---

Rey couldn’t fight her glare that followed him until the screen door slammed behind him. She shook her head as his truck started and made its way to the main road. She told herself she was over it but a very small part of her still stung at how he had ignored what happened at the Luther’s farmhouse party. Nevermind him. It was his way to be quiet and condescending. She wasn’t the only one that he never acknowledged she reminded herself. Many others had taken it as a blessing that he gave everyone a wide berth and their interactions had always been far and few inbetween.

There were many strangers who lived together in the large bunkhouse on First & Co. property. Everyone got along well and made peace with each other before word could ever reach their strict owners. Phasma and Hux, the couple who owned First & Co. were militaristic in how they ran everything they owned. If they could, they would have micromanaged their guests too.  

Rey felt no obligation to stay but she appreciated the cleanliness and the quiet. If she were honest with herself, she also enjoyed the routine that Phasma lightly enforced on the guests. No food or dishes were to be set out an hour after meal times, bathrooms were to be cleaned weekly, and no visitors or loud sounds were allowed after sundown. Some of the guests had balked at the rules but most had obeyed them to skirt Phasma’s wrath. Rey and the guests had seen the woman single handedly take down rogue farm animals.

Finishing her breakfast, Rey soaked in the morning silence as she began preparing for the commute to work. Most of the guests were still asleep or already at work. In the apartments she had lived in previously, there had been no order and no peace. The fat and gristley owner had allowed anyone to come and go. Noise complaints were never addressed. No one was ever sure what temperature the water would be or even if there would be water some days of the week. Rey was sure that most of her neighbors were involved in some kind of illegal activity. After walking past something she shouldn’t have seen, she had immediately moved into the bunkhouse with her friend and coworker Rose. 

Rose and her husband Finn had stayed at the bunkhouse with Rey for a year before moving out to buy their own home. It was a decision they had made when they had decided to start a family.  

Speaking of her dear friend, Rey watched the woman try to awkwardly climb out of the passenger side door fighting her round belly. Her expression became exasperated as her husband came around to help. Her expression smoothed out as Finn laid a fond kiss on her forehead.

“No PDA in front of the public library!” Rey scolded. The couple looked stunned before a smile broke out on their faces.

Rey smiled to herself as she also got out of the car to greet them. 

---

“Is Poe coming in today? I haven’t seen him.” Rey tried to ask casually during their lunch break. 

Rose’s secret smile let her know that her attempts at being sneaky were unsuccessful.

“He’s out of town for a few days. Family emergency but he didn’t have time to explain to Finn on the phone.” 

Rey’s brows wrinkled instantly in concern. She made some comment about hoping he was well before chewing more of her food. While it was true that she was concerned for his well being, it was a bit disconcerting to realize that in the time they had gotten to know each other, they had never discussed family. Then again, she had never asked and neither did he. She brushed away the shadow of doubt that clouded her mind. They had just started getting to know each other, nothing was official yet. 

Rey glanced at Rose. Rose and Finn had known each other for years before deciding to date. Sometimes it took time for a good relationship. There would be time for Poe and her to get to know each other she assured herself. 

---

The weather woman should start handing out apology gifts if she was going to keep delivering bad news, Kylo Ren thought to himself. 

Irritation spread throughout his features as her words registered. “The heavy rain continues for the third day this week. We have a storm warning for everyone in these counties. We expect lots of rain and flooding around these areas for the next few days. Please be safe out there, folks.”

He leaned into his desk chair hoping to quell the ache beginning in his skull. A growl started building in his throat but he quelled it. Instead, his long fingers caressed the stem of his coffee cup before it slammed against the opposite wall, shattering.

A hesitant knock on his door sounded before a mousey, “Sir?”

“Please tell everyone to prepare for the storm, Mikata. Afterward, they can go home. Their days' wages remain the same.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And please clean up the mess in the corner before you leave.”

There was only a slight pause before another, “Yes, sir” and the sound of ceramic moving across the wooden floors.

Kylo let out a soundless sigh not moving from his chair as Mikata finally left the room.

His frustrations were many and growing. Hux had purposefully excluded him from the weeklong meeting with the farming industry tycoons, leaving him to babysit the few ranchers that were scheduled to work. However, the rain had stopped production for the third time this week. A stop in production infuriated Kylo but not as much as having to answer to the incompetent Hux. The millions of questions the man would ask meanwhile squeezing in insults about Kylo. Truly it was an art. 

The image of Hux's face turning red almost the shade of his hair made Kylo’s lips curl in amusement. As his thoughts moved to the second problem plaguing him, his thoughts soured. 

That woman living in the bunkhouse was becoming a nuisance. He understood that she worked in the bakery across the street from the Public Library but why did she mix work with hobbies. She used every chance the kitchen was empty to bake something unhealthy. Cookies, cupcakes, pies, custards, something French that he couldn’t pronounce. He didn’t mind what the other residences did in private but he was tired of smelling sugar in the air and seeing the trays of leftovers she left for the other residents. In the time that she had moved in he was sure that DJ, one of the other residents, had gained ten pounds. Kylo had no doubt that he would become diabetic by association. 

She baked so regularly that he was sure the sugar had soaked into her skin. Something sweet always lingered in the air when they brushed past each other. In fact, she had tasted sweet on his tongue. A memory of darkness, wetness, and cooling skin lingered in his brain. Remembering the taste immediately made his throat run dry and saliva accumulate in his mouth. A natural reaction to wanting more. 

Kylo Ren shifted in his seat and forced the memory away. It was a mistake. They had both been inebriated. 

He didn’t relive mistakes. 

---

Rey watched the rain pound against the gravel. She was thankful her boss had given her the day off. Her small car wouldn’t have been able to make it through the flooding backroads. Taking small enjoyment in the gothic tone of the weather, she had baked some dark chocolate brownies. 

Sipping the tea in her hand, she considered the barren parking lot in front of the bunkhouse. Her car sat alone in the space. She wasn’t too surprised because most of the residents had made arrangements to stay in town or visit family during the storm. Even DJ, the odd loner, had left in the morning after asking for a bag of cookies. 

Letting out a relaxed sigh, she soaked in the reality of having the house to herself. It had been years since she’d had something as close as this. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend that it was years into the future. She had finally scrounged up enough to open her own bakery, the business was doing more than well, and she could finally afford her own home. Something to finally call hers. Her kitchen would be a happy shade of pale yellow and she would have as many ovens as she wanted. Maybe she would even adopt a pet. Perhaps a dog or a cat or even both. 

Her thoughts were happy and hopeful as she blinked at the window. She blinked again. Someone was flashing some kind of light on the road. That was strange. Who would be out in the cold? 

The dreams and desires of a few minutes ago slowly diminished as it occurred to Rey that those were not flashlights but headlights and the car pulling up the drive meant that she wasn’t going to be able to enjoy the house alone. 

Her stomach dropped as the truck parked and a tall figure encased in a long raincoat emerged from the car. 

---

It was a gesture of kindness, Rey decided. It would be a gesture of kindness to share the special pie she had made with the man stalking around in the dining nook. If he declined, she’d merely have more to herself. Nobody could lose in this situation.

Merely from observing the sounds of his footsteps, she knew that he had finished microwaving whatever frozen food he had grabbed from the freezer and was settling down to eat dinner. Of course, he had waited until she had finished her meal before coming out.

She tried to hide her frown as she shook the whip cream can before placing a swirl design over the slice of pie and scoop of vanilla ice cream. The sound of the whip cream coming out of the can was universal and it made her smile. Decorating her creations was something she loved the most about her job. Setting the can down, she took a bracing breath and walked into the dining nook.

If Kylo Ren knew that she had entered the room, he gave no indication. Another spoonful of gravy colored sludge entered his mouth and he chewed softly. Using the fork, he brought the piece of oily meat to his lips chewing more aggressively. A track of oil smeared across the side of his lip dripping down to his lower lip. 

A memory flashed at the forefront of her mind. Kylo’s lowered face was partially obscured by shadows but something glistened on his lips as he muttered something against her thighs. Something about her and taste. The memory was foggy but something low in her belly clenched remembering soft brushes of hands and lips on her body. 

Rey tried to clear her dry throat as she stood stiffly in the corner. 

“Would you like some pie?” She finally croaked out.

He paused in reaching for his spoon to look up at her. She finally had his attention but his expression was hard to read. 

She continued with a small smile, “I thought pie would be nice for dessert tonight. Would you like to try some?”

“No.” He replied immediately after glancing between her and her plate. 

Her shoulders slumped a little as she turned to walk away.

“Aren’t you worried about your health?”

Rey stiffened whipping back around to face the man who had just spoken.

“Excuse me?”

He didn’t repeat himself.

“You should also be more considerate of the people who live here. Some of us don’t have your affinity for sweet things. Some of us care about our health.”

All this just because she’d asked him if he wanted to share her pie? He was the most rude and-What an asshole! A simple no would have been enough. Why did he feel the need to open his mouth again? 

“There’s no need to be insulting if you didn’t want to eat my pie.” She replied as evenly as possible feeling a flush of heat starting from her neck. She felt embarrassed and insulted. 

He looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. “This isn’t about your offer which I appreciate but I’ve never liked dessert. It’s about-”

She couldn’t help it. She gasped. “Dessert is the best thing in the entire world. How can you say that?”

“I can assure you it is not.” His arms crossed against his chest.

“You just haven’t found the right kind of desert for you. I have some dark chocolate brownies that you should try. I’m sure they’ll change your mind. Everyone loves those brownies.”

Incredulous, he stared at her as if she’d grown five heads and a tail. 

“I’m not everyone and I’m done with this conversation.” He stood from his chair. 

As the silence grew between them, Rey’s embarrassment grew tenfold. Begging a man she didn’t even like to love desserts that she had made. What was she doing? 

The flush around her neck grew. Anger and frustration simmered staining her cheeks as she watched how dismissive he was about their conversation. The aggression that rolled through her gut made her want to shout disgusting things at him. Rey knew it was better to be ignored but his attitude had always bristled. He wasn’t just dismissive, he viewed everything beneath him. Scum beneath his feet. She was tired of allowing this man to make her feel like nothing. A stronger wave of anger made her feel brave.

She set her tray on the table next to the food he had abandoned and moved to stop him. 

Irritation flashed across his features. He made to move out of her way but she pushed at him with her own chest. A confrontational move that immediately raised his hackles. 

“You won’t try the dessert I make but you’ll eat my pussy?” She said with as much vulgarity as she could muster.

---

For the rest of the story click here (fanfiction.net) OR here (AO3) because the actual thing is way too long. 

[lhs3020b]

Post Mortem

I promised some thoughts on the nightmarish debacle that has happened. Here they are.

TL;DR I am scathing about everything. Everyone who should have helped us, failed.

It's the morning after. They've won. Continuity Remain is dead; there isn't going to be any second referendum and Article 50 won't be revoked. You cannot imagine how I feel right now, typing those words. However, I have never sought to deny reality (however lovely denial might be) and reality is what it is. We've lost a referendum and two general elections; we're finished. There is no come-back from this. The country has made a sick, twisted, greedy, myopic and stupid decision - but that's the decision it's made. I have nothing good to say for what happened, except that it did happen.

Well, let's look at the one tiny silver lining: since the ship has now sailed, I can indulge my deep, seething pool of vitriol for our collection of useless opposition parties. I'd held back previously because I didn't want to add to the circular firing squad. But they've all shot each other now and the corpses have largely stopped twitching. So off we go. (Before we start, I won't be writing about CUK/TiG/Change-UK, because they were just annoying, and I can't be arsed. I think we've all spent enough time on that shower of idiots.)

Here's the core reason for why I'm so angry: all this was completely avoidable. The media will, of course, spin BoJo's victory as a paragonic triumph of political conservatism. Like that infamous Pravda article from the 30s, on the Soviet constitution, they'll fawn over BoJo and declare him a visionary and a victor, a veritable genius of the ages, dripping with lyricism and wit. He isn't. He's an over-promoted buffoon who lucked into the top office due to the self-destruction of his inept predecessor, aided and abetted by a lying and sycophantic media - and, by a collection of opposition parties whose sole interest was in fighting each other.

Here we have the real core problem. The people on our side only switch on for fighting each other. There's little sign that they actually really care about Brexit, or the wider state of the UK. But pursuing partisan vendettas against each other? Wheeeeeeeeeee!

Let's think back to the summer, when BoJo was faced with stalling polls and a hung parliament. He could have been ousted then - but, of course, the Lib Dems were adamant that they couldn't countenance the idea of Mr Corbyn as Prime Minister. They'd had this tendency for a while - it's not new - but it accelerated and was nurtured under Jo Swinson.

When she was elected as leader I was initially a bit sympathetic - it seemed reasonable to give her a chance. Unfortunately, it turned out that she might be the most rightwing leader they've ever had - I actually suspect now that she might be to the right of Clegg. And she went and turbocharged all of their most self-destructive tendencies. I think what she thought she was doing was clawing Tory Remainers off of the Tories. This ran into two problems; 1) there weren't that many Tory Remainers to begin with and b) most of them are more Tory than they are Remain. So they mostly stayed put, and they few who did leave (thank you, to those of you that did) just weren't enough. Meanwhile, the hard-right tilt scared off the Lib Dem's left-leaning supporters.

A while back I predicted they'd lose seats at this election; I'm sad to have been proved right. I am, however, grimly-amused that Swinson herself lost her seat. The other problem with Swinson's rampany anti-Corbynism was that it partially demobilised continuity!Remain. A lot of people sensed that she was more anti-Corbyn than anti-Brexit; that also implied no plausible chance of an anti-Brexit coalition. Hoenstly, given how overt and personal the vitriol between her and Corbyn got, it's hard to see how it could ever have worked. And there's no point voting for something that you know is impossible. I do wonder if maybe this switched some left-leaning people off, or perhaps even sent a few ditherers back to the Tories (under the assumption that any sort of government is better than no government, I suppose).

As for the Lib Dem campaign, it was a mess. At one point their leader went on air to deny killing squirrels (yes, seriously, this actually happened). She got all excited about thermonuclear genocide at one point, because that's not at all weird and creepy, amirite?! Then there was the bizzarity that was "skills wallets" (don't ask - basically, the sort of policy abortion that happens when a collection of wonks are locked in a room with a boxed set of the West Wing and too much cocaine).

[OK, I'll expand this one. Briefly, skills wallets were a weird continuing-adult-education idea, where you'd have a pot of money that you could access at certain ages, apparently to take some kind of training or re-education or something. Why the ages in question, why that amount of money, and why not just make adult-ed free at the point of use, were never really explained. Then there was the can of worms that was additional voluntary contributions - what I took away from this was it was the adult-ed version of pensions auto-enrollment. I spent the last four years fighting a corrupt auto-enrollment fund, so I have strong feelings here!]

As for general themes, really, the LD campaign didn't have one. There was a lot of "Corbyn, THE MONSTER, the monster, Corbyn!". And, kind of oddly, there wasn't actually that much about Brexit. It actually didn't figure very strongly in their campaign. You came away from watching it all with a) a bad taste in your mouth and b) a nagging feeling that these people didn't know what they were doing.

To be fair to them, their vote share did go up, a bit - from 7.4% in 2017 to 11.4% yesterday. Which is, uh, not exactly dizzying. And it seems to have happened in all the wrong places, so they still managed to lose seats overall.

OK, we've gawped at the piss-stained ashes of the old Liberal Party, lying in state where some eggregious family-member has dumped them, on a roadside verge in the middle of nowhere. (Perhaps some enterprising squirrel has buried a nut amongst them.) Let's move onto the other vast, soul-sucking black hole of despair, also know as the Labour and Co-operative Party.

Oh dear god. The Labour Party.

The Labour Party is Britain's perennial second party, and nothing that happened last night challenged its second-place status. Their vote share dropped by 7.8 percentage points on 2017; this is what produced the Tory landslide, essentially. The Tory vote went up a little, by about 1 point, but otherwise stayed largely flat on 2017. This time, though, Labour collapsed. They lost a swathe of seats across the country, including places like Bolsover and Blyth Valley, which were previously rock-solid.

What went wrong? Everything. Basically, the stars aligned against us, in every single way.

First of all, Labour's campaign was dogged by the antisemitism scandal. And you know what? It was bloody well right that it did. The leadership dealt with antisemitism by ... doing nothing. Anyone who tried to raise the issue instead would get "Corbyn outriders" dumping on them on Twitter. Apparently we're suddenly not allowed to be concerned about racism on the Left anymore? Frankly, fuck that.

What they should have done was a quick-and-brutal party purge, perhaps early in 2018, when there was still time. Take some initiative, get control of the narrative again, and get rid of people who are only going to shit all over your campaign. But, uh, no. That didn't happen. I'll note that the Chris Williamson show in particular went on far, far longer than it should have.

Then we come to Brexit itself. Corbyn spent three years equivocating on the issue. OK, I'll allow that in hindsight, perhaps strategic ambiguity made some sense back in 2017 (though note that they still lost that election too). It didn't by 2019. But Corbyn was still trying to stand in the middle of the road as late as the summer - and by doing so inadvertently opened up political space for the (brief) Lib Dem revival, which in turn shunted Labour onto the defensive. And as I believe Paddy Ashdown once said, if you stand in the middle of the road, you get hit by traffic.

Eventually, the Labour leadership reluctantly adopted a second referendum position, but by then the damage was done. Basically, Corbyn had convinced Leavers that he was a Remainer, and Remainers that he was a Leaver. Labour appears to have lost votes about evenly across both Remain/Leave areas(!). In a way, he actually did unite the country - just against him. Ooops.

The rest of Labour's prospectus was a mess this year. Home Office reform was de-emphasized (arbitrary deportation by the Home Office is a huge concern amongst ethnic minorities). Drugs-law reform seems to have fallen off the agenda. There was no obvious theme to the campaign - surprising given that 2017's "For the Many" theme did cut across. Instead the "offer", such as it was, appeared to be a largely-incoherent grab-bag of spending promises, some of them with very large headline numbers. (The £58 billion for the WASPI pensions thing stands out there.) A lot of people simply didn't believe the country could afford it. You don't vote for things that you fear will bankrupt you.

Also, in a way, there's a parallel to the skills wallets thing here. Labour would have been better off, I think, just doing something straightforward like saying, "If elected we'll raise disability, sickness and unemployment benefits by £x per week, and we'll get rid of the ATOS fit-for-work assesments". It would have the advantages of simplicity, clarity and a clear political theme. Instead we got this weird fiscal machine that would produce some of those effects, except via a complicated multi-part kludge (which probably wouldn't even work properly anyway). I don't know how this came about; presumably it was an after-effect of one of the party's unending internal power-struggles.

Corbyn himself is a controversial figure, from his past associations with the IRA (more vague than the press would have you believe, but still a drag on the doorstep) to the perception of socialist extremism. Again, let me note that the "but he's a Communist, because that starts with 'C' too!" stuff is disingenuous, but this perception exists, and the Party have not found any apparent way to challenge it. Honestly? If your candidate is a ship that's holed below the waterline, yes it is horribly-unfair and all the rest of it, but you do need to run someone else. (I see no point softening that punch ; while Corbyn's been leader, the whole UK has voted 4 times, at 2 general elections, 1 referendum and 1 EU Parliament election. Every time, Labour has bombed. It's hard not to see a pattern here.)

Finally, the Labour Party itself has failed to ever re-unite. It's effectively two political parties in one - or possibly three, depending on how you want to look at Momentum. On a fair day with a strong wind, the Parliamentary portion sometimes manages to move just-about-consistently, but nothing else seems to have that behaviour. Honestly I suspect a lot of people's real fear about a Labour government is not that it would be a socialist tyranny, but rather that it would implode within about six months. Labour has lost its way amongst a storm of factional infighting. To be fair to Corbyn, this isn't new. Ed Milliband's desperate tenure was derailed by internal struggles. Even the 1997-2010 period had the ongoing squabbles between Brownites and Blairites (remember them?).

So yeah, Labour's campaign was an absolute shambles this year, and the whole country is suffering now for that.

Lastly, let's have a quick look at the Green Party. Where were they this year? With Extinction Rebellion making headlines, the Amazon burning, Australia on fire and weather records being smashed everywhere - remember that day when we had summer back in February? - it should have been the Greens' year. Environmental concerns are going up in salience - people are starting to get genuinely worried. And, uh, where were they? I can't recall hearing a single peep from the Green Party during the election. Whatever it was they were doing, it seems to have completely failed to capitalise on the moment. Perhaps they should have been a bit more visible.

The only people who come out of this with any credit are the SNP. I haven't heard anything teeth-grinding about them - though, that might just be because I live in southern England.

Oh, and let's take a final kick in the teeth, shall we? If you add up the shares of the votes received by pro-second-referendum parties ... guess what it comes to? Yup: 52%, versus 48% for the pro-Brexit parties. 52/48 - aaaaargh! Yet, the 48% had a narrative that kept their vote all in one place, so they won an absolute majority at Westminster. Ours got scattered to the four winds by several separate inept campaigns and several useless party leaders. Had there been a second referendum, we could have won it. But we never got the chance, because everyone supposedly on our side were completely, perfectly, useless.

Sigh :(

[fanfics4all]

Not So Perfect, Perfect Anniversary

Request: Yes / No Could you maybe do I fangs fluff where it’s him and the readers 1 year anniversary Anon

Request are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Fangs Fogarty x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1879

Warnings: A little Southside discrimination

Y/N: Your Name

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

Masterlist

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Fang’s POV

A one year anniversary is a big thing and I have no idea what to do! I loved this girl so damn much and I had literally no clue what to do for her. I had to make this day special, but nothing seemed good enough! I couldn’t even thing of the perfect gift to get her! So I did the one thing that I thought could help, I went to our friends. I rushed into the Wyrm and saw Toni behind the bar and Pea talking with her. I rushed up to them and they looked at me weirdly.

“What’s up with you Fogarty?” Pea asked.

“It’s mine and Y/N’s year anniversary next week and I have no idea what to get her or what to do!” I said freaking out.

“Okay, first chill out.” Toni said and I took a deep breath.

“Second you know the one thing she’s wanted for pretty much ever right?” She asked and I shook my head confused. I racked my brain for what she was talking about but nothing came to mind.

“A dog you dumbass! And you call yourself her boyfriend.” Sweet Pea said rolling his eyes and mine widened. How could I have forgotten that! She worked at the local animal shelter for fuck sakes! She was always talking about how she wishes she could take home all the animals. I remember her talking about this one puppy that, as she said, stole her heart more than I did.

“I know exactly the one to get her!” I said happily.

“Good, now as for the date part… Maybe take her to dinner and then out to Sweetwater to watch the sunset?” Toni suggested and I nodded with a smile.

“That sounds perfect! Thanks, I owe you guys!” I said and ran out the bar to go to the shelter.

I walked in and greeted her coworkers. I asked them about the dog that Y/N was in love with and they brought him out for me to meet. Oh my God, this might be the cutest dog I’ve ever seen, I can see why Y/N loves him so much. I asked them if anyone had adopted him yet and they said he was available. I told them I wanted to adopt him, but I wouldn’t be able to take him for a week. They all smirked.

“Is that because of your one year anniversary with Y/N?” One girl asked and I nodded.

“You can’t tell her, it’s a surprise!” I said and they all nodded.

“Your secret is safe with us!” I did some paperwork and gave them some money than they said he was mine. I crouched down to pet the little guy and smiled.

“Sorry little dude, but you won’t be able to come home for a week. Don’t worry though you’ll be in great hands.” I said and he gave me a little bark. They took him back to put him away and I left to go home and make reservations for a restaurant she always wanted to go to.

A week later

Finally it was the day and I started the day off by trying to surprise her with breakfast in bed, but a fire almost broke out and ruined everything. Y/N woke up to the smell of smoke.

“Is everything okay?” She asked worried.

“Yeah, sorry babe. I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed but I forgot about something on the stove and then I started freaking out and a fire almost broke out…” I said with a sigh and she giggled.

“Don’t worry about it baby, let’s clean up.” She said grabbing one of the burned pans. The two of us spent the rest of the day home, but nothing seemed to be going right! I wanted to put on her favorite movie, but the DVD player ruined her copy. She didn’t care though, she said we could always get another one. Then when we did find a movie to watch I tried making us popcorn but the microwave pretty much almost blew up, again she said it was fine.

Finally it was time to go to dinner and I told her she should dress up. I was in a button down shirt, nice pants, my Serpent jacket, and some nicer shoes. I waited in the living room for Y/N to finish and she walked out looking amazing as always. She was wearing a black dress, black heels, a few accessories, with her Serpent jacket, she curled her hair a bit so it was wavy, did some eye makeup, and a red lip.

The two of us got in the old pick-up I borrowed from Pea and we were off to the restaurant. We got there and I lead her into the restaurant, she looked so excited. We walked up to the host and he smiled at us, but I could see judgement in his eyes.

“Reservations for Fogarty.” I said with a smile. He looked down at his books then looked back up at us.

“I’m sorry sir, but we don’t have any reservations for that name.” He said and I looked at him confused.

“I called last week, it should be there.” I said.

“It’s not here sir.” He said and I sighed.

“Well do you have a table for two?” I asked and he shook his head.

“We’re all booked up.” He said and I sighed.

“It’s probably for the best, I doubt the two of you could afford this place, let alone fit in.” He said and I glared at him.

“What the fuck did you just say?” I growled.

“Fangs, let’s just go.” Y/N said and I shook my head.

“No! I know I made reservations here!” I said a little too loud. People started looking at us.

“Sir you need to leave.” He said and I glared at him again.

“Not until you give us our table.” I said annoyed.

“If you do not leave I will call the cops.” He said and Y/N tugged on my arm. I looked at her and she shook her head.

“Come on baby, let’s just go.” She said and I sighed. I wrapped my arm around her waist and the two of us got back in the truck. I started it and then looked at her.

“I’m sorry babe…” I said sadly and she just smiled.

“It’s okay baby, let’s just go to Pop’s.” She said and I grabbed her hand. I kissed the back of it making her smile grow, I don’t know how she can be so happy when everything’s going wrong. We went to Pop’s and ate then we walked outside. I noticed the sun was starting to set and I smile, at least one thing can go right! We started walking to the truck but before we could get in it started to pour rain. Are you fucking kidding me!? We got in the truck and we were both a kind of wet. I sighed and let my head hit the steering wheel.

“What’s wrong?” She asked and I looked at her.

“Everything! I had the perfect day planned for our special day and everything just get ruined! I was going to take you to Sweetwater to watch the sun set and now its raining!” I said annoyed and upset. She placed a hand on my cheek and leaned in so our lips connected.

“Everything about today was amazing because I got to spend it with you.” She said and I just stared at her. God how did I get so lucky? Then I smiled brightly at her and started the truck. There was still one more thing that can make this day perfect! I drove to the animal shelter and Y/N looked at me confused.

“What are we doing here?” She asked. I just smiled at her and grabbed the umbrella that was in the back. I got out then ran to her side. I helped her out and the two of us walked inside. One of the girls was working the night shift and she smiled at us when she noticed us.

“Hey guys.” She said.

“Hey, can we see Dozer?” I asked and she nodded with a knowing smile. She went in the back and came back out with the sweet little pitbull pup following her. He ran right up to Y/N and she scooped him up in her arms.

“Hey baby! Aww you’re so sweet! Thank you for the kisses boy.” She giggled as he licked her face.

“Have fun at your new home Dozer!” Her coworker said and Y/N looked at her confused.

“I may have came here last week and adopted him as a gift for you.” I said and Y/N looked at me shocked.

“Are you serious! You’re the one who adopted him? I thought I was never going to see this little angel ever again!” She said so happy and I chuckled.

“I thought it would be the perfect present.” I said and she smiled so brightly.

“You’re the best boyfriend in the world! Wait, we need to get the supplies and a collar and-”

“I also got all that, minus the collar, I figured you’d want to pick it out.” I said and she smiled. She walked over to where they kept the collars and picked out a black one.

“Here you go baby boy. Awww look at you! You’re such a handsome boy.” She said putting it on him. She picked him up and walked back over to me.

“He needs to meet Hotdog!” She said excitedly and I laughed.

“He’s probably at the bar, we can go now if you want.” I said and she nodded her head. We walked back in the truck, making sure Dozer didn’t get wet from the rain and drove to the Wyrm. We rushed in and walked over to Sweet Pea and Toni.

“Hey, I thought you two were going to Sweetwater?” Toni asked confused.

“We were, but it started to pour.” I said and then they noticed the puppy in Y/N’s arms.

“Oh my God! Who is this little cutie!” Toni asked.

“This is our new puppy Dozer, Fangs surprised me with him for our one year.” She said with the biggest smile.

“This little guy is gonna grow up to be a badass!” Pea said and Toni rolled her eyes.

“Hey, is Hotdog here?” Y/N asked and they nodded.

“Hotdog!” Pea called and he came running up to us. Y/N crouched down and placed Dozer down.

“Dozer, this is Hotdog. Hotdog this is Dozer!” She said and they sniffed each other. Dozer gave a few tiny barks and Hotdog barked back wagging his tail. The two of them were wagging their tails and then started to play.

“Awww! They like each other!” Y/N squealed happily and I looked at her with a smile. She stood back up and I pulled her to me by her waist.

“Happy one year babe.” I said and she turned to face me.

“Happy one year baby. It was perfect.” She said and kissed me, I couldn’t help the smile that I had.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @xrosesareredx @herokyolachan @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts @alex--awesome--22 @teenwolfbitches2 @genius2050 @drw0301bieber @tigermillionaire-philanthropist @marveloverdcsstuff @lady-of-lies @emo-godess-loves-you @hiya-imthatgirl @answer-the-sirens @mindsetjupiter @averysinclaire @mittelerde1999 @sweetest-peas @rousewriter @jjkingston @k-is-cray @camiconfessions @thecaptainsgingersnap @pettyjayy @cenyddtheunicorn 

[kotlc-oneshots]

Believing (Blind!Keefe AU pt 2)

Word count - 3551

A lot of soliditary between keefe and my other bbys

God I can’t wait to write from Tams perspective, next chapter y’all!

Anyways I hope you like it and that it’s not Bad™️ considering how tired I am

~*~*~*

Pt two

Keefe

The next morning, I wake up and go through my simplistic routine again. Get dressed, brush teeth, message Fitz, eat. When I hear the honking of Fitz car outside, I carefully grab my cane and walk out the doors, tapping my way yard and to the street.

“How goes it?” Fitz’ voice calls, and a smile splits across my face at the inside joke.

“I don’t know,” I reply, laughing at the memory it brings. “I can’t see.” Fitz laughs in response.

“You’re sitting up front today; Biana took Sophie to get coffee early, so it’s just us boys.”

“Dex sat in the back?” I questioned, as he normally was quick to jump on shotgun. I reach the car and pop the door open, and am greeted by the familiar smell of Fitz’s car.

“More like laid in the back,” Dex pipes up, while I thud my bag to the ground and shut the door. I shake my head.

“You’re supposed to be the responsible one, Dex. Shame on you.” I chide, and Fitz peels away from the house. I roll my eyes and laugh; they’re so dumb. We’re so dumb. And I’m grateful for it.

“We're here—part two!” Fitz exclaims in the seat next to me. “Well, for half of my classes this’ll be my first day. I missed a lot yesterday—freshman presentations are ass,” he grumbles as he parks the car. I chuckle and shake my head.

“Your fault, man,” I taunt him, and he scoffs as a response. “Hey Dexxxxx… wanna walk me to class?” I say, fumbling around in the back, trying to hit him.

“Hmrrghh. Yeah.” I hear him shift around, and we step out of the car together.

As soon as we're both out, Fitz locks the car. “See y’all later!” he calls, jogging off- likely to some lifting or meeting or something. I chuckle; whenever I think of Fitz, I imagine he’s either very ugly, or really attractive. From what I heard, it’s the latter—he's the epitome of perfection to the entire school, and many other schools as well. I, however, know better—he’s a complete and utter dumbass. He once chugged half a gallon of milk on a dare, and another time got himself locked in a dog kennel—and that list can go on. I don’t quite understand how he keeps the guise of perfection and stability when he’s oh-so-clearly not. Him running off to a meeting or club isn’t a surprise, but it’s hard to imagine, knowing what he’s actually like.

“How the hell does that man manage all that shit?” Dex grumbles, also acknowledging that Fitz is definitely insane. I shake my head.

“A very, very large amount of crack,” I state solemnly, as if this is a sad, but true fact. Dex laughs loudly.

“I don’t doubt it. Better not let his coach find out,” He replies, just as sincerely. “What room number are you in, by the way?” He asks, just as I detect the curb with my cane. Gently stepping up, I tell him. “Nice—we aren’t that far from each other- you’re going straight there, right?” he asks, and I nod.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you—is there anything new with the Stina situation?” I bring up the topic gently—Stina Heks was Dex’s early on bully. Before Sophie brought Dex into the group halfway through their Freshman year, she would nag on him relentlessly—he was attending the school on a partial scholarship, and his family has a bit of bad history of being… odd. His dad runs a small pharmacy, and it’s mostly alternative medicine. She used to take any opportunity she could to point out anything about him that wasn’t strictly ‘normal’. I absolutely love it there with Dex. Mr. Dizznee is the kindest, most loving person ever—a huge contrast to my barely around, statue of a father. Plus, it always smells really nice in the store.

“Oh… well, we have precalc together, but she hasn’t said anything to me. She hasn’t said anything all summer—I feel like she's matured, a bit. Probably.” He sounds fairly put down, and I use his voice to guide me in the direction to wrap him in a one armed hug.

“Sorry I brought it up. But let me know if anything happens,” I say and he chuckles and pushes me away. From those few moments, I can tell he’s almost taller than me—which doesn’t feel right.

“No worries. Let's get you to class,” he says, and I can tell he’s being honest—it doesn’t bother him. Which is good, in my opinion. He’s growing up. Sometimes I feel like such a dad.

We walk into the main doors of the building and make our way down a few hallways. I use my photographic (ha) memory to make my way, but Dex still stays close to me, not letting me bump into kids or trip. I appreciate it, because I don’t have to use my cane—I might not be able to see them, but I can feel the people staring at me when I have it out.

“Well, we're here. We have, like, 15 minutes before class starts, though,” Dex states.

“I know- I always show up early,” I reply. “I mean, the other option is sitting in the cafeteria.” I shrug.

“Well, I might as well go to my class then. Brech told me yesterday I should come in if I had questions- and she assigned a couple starter worksheets. I gotta deal with that.” Even though I can’t see it, I can practically hear his frown.

“No worries,” I tell him, and he gently pats my shoulder before walking off. I pull out my cane, letting it guide me into the still unfamiliar classroom. The milky blobs of color offer little help as to finding a seat, so unfortunately this tends to be necessary.

“Hey! You should sit here.” A familiar voice says from the back corner. I rack my brain—Linh!

“Oh! Hey,” I reply. “Umm, where are you, exactly?” I ask, sounding really cool, I’m sure. I hate needing help.

“Just back here- this chair would be great.” She knocks on what I presume is the chair next to her. I use the sound to guide me, as well as the cane.

“Thank you,” I say, smiling. “You know, it's really hard to find a seat around here. Like, I literally can't see any! Must be budget cuts,” I say, grinning. There's a pause, then a small laugh.

“Some private school. They can't even afford chairs.” I chuckle.

“I mean- where’s the proof that there's even a building. Or classrooms! You gotta see to believe, and I certainly don't see, so…” I trail off and nod seriously. She laughs- I’m grateful. Blind jokes don’t go well with everyone. “Anyways, how are you?” I change the topic with a grin. “Long time no see.” This pulls out another laugh.

“Well, I’m ok. My schedule has been pretty stressful—but other than that, good. I’m still trying to make friends. I didn’t mention it yesterday, but this is my first year at Foxfire,” she says. I nod in acknowledgment.

“So, kinda on your own then? That’s not easy,” I reply, wondering if I should introduce her to the group. She seems nice enough, and, I hate to admit it, but half of being a part of our group is not being a piece of crap about me being blind. And all of us secretly being idiots.

“Well, there’s my brother—we’re twins. But other than that, yeah.” She sighs softly.

“Oh! You have a brother. That’s always nice,” I say.

“Well, yeah. He’s super over-protected. We got sucked into the foster care system, because… of some things, and there was a lot of bad things, which he always felt he had to keep me from. But we found a really great family now! They’re very nice, and actually acknowledge me and Tam’s ability. We’ve always been considered smart, but nobody really cared. They we're just in it for the money. Our new parents, however, have money, which is nice. So when they found out our test scores, they sent us here.” I nod in acknowledgement—Sophie went through some similar things before she got adopted by Grady and Edaline.

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry you’ve been through that,” I say, trying to find the right words. “It’s really good that you’re here now. Even though I’m pretty convinced there isn’t an actual school, I’ve been told that it’s nice.” She laughs at this.

“Yeah, so have I. Oh! I almost forgot. I’m in your stats class. Frer was just being rude the whole period, so I didn’t have a chance to say anything,” Linh says. I grin.

“Nice! Now that I know, you officially have to help me prank him at least once this year.” I tell her, very seriously.

“Oh…I don’t know about that.” she sounds apprehensive.

“I mean, you don’t have to. But I’m going to do it, so you may as well help.”

“I’ll think about it.” She says, and the door opens.

“Oh! Hello, you two. Early again?” A feminine voice—our teacher’s—says.

“You know it,” I tell her, smiling.

“Alright, well. You have a little bit less than five minutes before class starts, so go ahead and continue what you we’re doing.” Based on her tone—the bright, too cheery one that I hear a lot- I can tell she’s a little annoyed. I try not to let that affect me.

“Hey—I’m gonna work on some AP physics stuff,” Linh says, and I can tell she doesn’t really want to talk with the teacher there- even if its casual conversation. I nod, and let my thoughts be my own for the moment.

At least I’m used to it.

*****

Not much happens the next couple of periods—Fitz and I work on English together, and Dex and I use morse code to ‘pass notes’ in AP physics. He’s really good at science (like, really good), so he skipped a year and is in APP2 as a junior. I appreciate it- he’ll be a help for when I actually feel like studying. During Lunch, Dex and I sit at our table and Linh came to sit with us, introducing herself to Dex. In Government, I sit on my own and listened to the online assignments. In Stats, Linh manages to find a spot next to me and helps me out with the worksheet.

I find myself needing to go to the bathroom, so I ask to be excused. On my way there, a familiar voice calls my name.

“Keefe! Hey. Um.”

“Foster! Uh… what’s up?” I ask.

“Oh! Nothing. But, hey, do you think that you could come over tonight? There’s… there’s something I really want to talk to you about.” Just from her voice, I hear she’s slightly frazzled. Nervous.

“Are you ok, Sophie? Is someone bothering you again?” My mind jumps back to when she was first adopted by Grady and Edaline, and all the crap other kids gave her.

“No! It’s not like that. Just, something I wanna talk about. I need advice.” I smile.

“Ah. You need the wise old Keefester to help you out. Well, no worries, m’lady, I will do what I can. You want me to come over?”

“Yeah. I’ll just have Fitz drop both of us off at my place, Biana can ride on her own—sound good?”

“As long as you have food, I’m okay with anything.” She laughs softly.

“Of course. See you.” I hear her walk away, and smile to myself—I think back to when I had feelings for her, and can’t help but think about how they’ve changed- she’s like a younger sister to me now. It’s odd.

I go to the restroom and return to class, thinking about what Sophie might have to tell me that made her that nervous.

Stats class ends (for me), and my minds swimming with Frer’s stupidity as I go to Latin. I get there around when the bell rings to dismiss everyone else, and I find a seat close to the door. People filter out and in the classroom, and then someone speaks.

“Dude! Keefe, I forgot you we're in this class.” Fitz says, and a grin spreads across my face.

“Yeah, you had that Freshman help thing yesterday. You know there’s only one AP Latin 2, dumbass.” I respond, and he chuckles. I hear him put his stuff next to me.

“How was this class yesterday?” He asks, and I shrug.

“We barely did anything. Got a list of vocab and grammar to review.” I tell him, pulling up my bag to get my computer.

“That’s valid. Not gonna lie, I’m glad I missed it.” This makes me laugh.

“Oh, no—Wonderboy didn’t want to go to class? That’s a fuckin abomination.” I reply sarcastically, and the bell rings. I can hear Fitz scoff, but our teacher starts talking so he can’t respond. We get a reading prompt, and I have to go into the hall and listen to it. The teacher doesn’t let Fitz come out and help me, which sucks- but I have to consider the situation. Which also sucks. I hate having to be worked around.

One thing that really bothers me about our teacher, Sam, is she never lets me leave early. So Fitz has to help me through the crowd of people. The kids don’t really acknowledge me, but having so many people around that I can’t see, don’t know, that don’t care sends massive spikes of anxiety through me. Fitz does a really good job at helping me, his steady hand on my shoulder the whole time, making sure we both get through the crowd.

I’m so damn grateful for him sometimes.

We finally manage to get out of the building and to Fitz’s car. He unlocks it, and I climb into his car carefully. I can hear as he types on his phone, likely texting someone.

“How’s shit at home been going?” He asks, somewhat startling me.

“Oh. Well, not much has happened, really,” I admit with a shrug. “He’s been out a lot lately- I don’t have to interact with him much.”

“Good. We’re not gonna let him give you shit this year, got it?” I laugh.

“You’re so overprotective, Fitzy. I can handle my dad.”

“I’m serious, Keefe. None of this is your fault. Especially now with your mom gone… we-”

“I get it, Fitz. I know.” While I do love Fitz with my whole heart, he can be… overbearing. I reach out and search for his shoulder. “I’ll be okay.” I give him (what I assume to be) an award winning smile. “Besides, I got this year in the bag. All my pranks? Planned out to the t. I won’t get in trouble all year, I swear.” Fitz scoffs, but it’s lighthearted and followed by a chuckle.

“All right Keefe. I’m sorry.” He sounds genuine and I lean into him, letting my head rest on his shoulder. He can be a stubborn little shit sometimes, but he’s… a good friend.

“Oh my god, that’s fucking adorable.” The door crashes open and Dex steps inside. “You guys are gross, though.” He adds.

“PDA is not the Foxfire way.” Sophie says, jokingly.

“I will kiss him, right here, right now. Fight me,” Fitz says, joking but aggressive. Protective as ever. I laugh and push away, settling back into my normal seat.

“I think once is enough, isn’t it?” Dex laughs, but there’s something in his voice… I ignore it, and grin.

“Not when I’m involved. Trust me, even Fitz Vacker wants a piece of this.” I say, grinning and indicating myself.

“Not that you would know,” Fitz responds, ruffling my hair.

“Dude, I don’t even have to see to know how incredibly attractive I am,” I inform them.

“No need to argue with that.” Dex chuckles.

“Oh!” Sophie popes up. “I forgot to mention. Keefe’s comin over, could you just drop us both off at my place? I can get him back, Edaline normally doesn’t mind.” I’m actually the only one of the group that lives in town- everyone else lives in the country, because their parents needed or liked having the land.

“That makes it easy for me. Let’s go, brethren.” I don’t know when Fitz started referring to us at that, but I still think it’s hilarious. I snort at his idiocy, and we head off.

“Dex, are you doing debate this year?” I pipe up. I’m EXCITED for debate season.

“Yeah. I’m actually writing some stuff right now, on how to not be a little bitch.” Dex says, laughing.

“Dex, PLEASE. You’d do really good,” I argue. “Just write an oratory on veganism or something!”

“Dude, you’ve been trying this for the past two years- the meetings clash with robotics. Besides, why would I want to right an oratory when you’ve placed first twice now.”

“Not that that mattered,” I contest. “Considering my dad didn’t let me go.”

“Pleeeasseee. For me.”

“FINE. I’ll go to one meeting. Only because there’s no robotics and Sophie’s going. No offense Keefe, but you suck.” I stick my tongue out at him, but grin happily. I’ve been trying to do this for YEARS.

“You guys are such nerds,” Fitz inputs, and I hit his shoulder. “Oh, you know it’s true.” I scoff.

“Says the president of the chess club.” Sophie states, laughing.

“We don’t talk about that.” Fits says, and I feel the car pull to a stop. “We’re here, Sophie. Keefe, you too. Dex- get up here you little shit.”

“Hey. Don’t disrespect my son like that.” Sophie tells, and I hear Dex grumble a bit.

“Fitz, if you’re not busy, wanna do something? Like, I dunno, egg some annoying blondes?” I snort. Dex has learned well.

“Um, yes to the first part, no to the second. That’s a lot of work. Also, aren’t you vegan?”

“Oh! Yeah, that.” Dex says casually. I laugh, and step out and away from the car carefully.

“Have fun, nerds!” Sophie calls as they drive off, and I grin in her direction.

“So, Miss F, what was it you wanted to tell me?” I ask, and I can practically feel the shift in her mood.

“Oh. Um. Yeah. Come inside?” I nod, and she guides me to the doors.

“Sounds serious,” I tell her.

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Just… something that’s been on my mind for the past few months. Especially… I dunno.”

“Wanna go to your room first?”

“Yeah. Um…” I can tell she’s nervous, and likely picking at her eyelashes- what many people have told me to be her nervous tick. We walk over to her room in moderate silence.

“What’s the sitch?” I ask, and Sophie laughs- and replies with the Kim Possible beep. “Seriously though, what’s on your mind. Unless you wanted me over just to admire how incredibly handsome I happen to be.”

“Well, um, no… uh.” She sighs. I search around for a chair and sit down.

“Hey. It’s okay. Whatever it is, I’m here for you.

“Well, I. I think. I’m gay, I think. Like, maybe not full gay, but pretty gay. Like, girls are cool gay. Really cool. But maybe not, I don’t? Know If I’m Actually Gay Gay. Maybe I’m just thinking and stuff, but I’m probably gay? I think? I don-”

“Sophie. Hey. It’s okay.” I interrupt, to keep her from going insane. “Take a few deep breaths.” I hear her do so. “You know none of us will judge you. Right?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I guess, I just don’t want to make a big deal of it.”

“I get it. I’m glad you told me, though.” I smile at her warmly.

“Well. That’s all I really wanted to tell you. I guess.”

“Wanna play Smash?”

“Yeah.”

****

That night I get home relatively late- Sophie feeds me and we play video games for quite a while. We didn’t talk about what she told me- I want to respect her space.

“Where have you been?” My father, voice stern, says. I haven’t even closed the door yet.

“Sophie’s.” I respond, automatically pulling on a calm expression and heightening my posture. I shut the door softly.

“And what, may I ask, were you doing?” His voice is condescending.

“We were playing video games and I lost track of time- I’m sorry.” He scoffs.

“I’m sure. Do you have any homework?” There's the implied ‘that you didn’t do’ at the end.

“Not really. I have some reading I can do, though.” I admit. I’ve learned that lying to my father doesn’t work. Ever.

“You better get on that.” He sneers, and I try to keep my expression respectful and blank.

“Of course. I’m sorry.” I say, and walk in the direction of my bedroom. “Debate starts Thursday, by the way.”

“Convenient. The day that I have off.” He scoffs back.

“I’m sorry dad. Do you want me to come home? They won’t mind if I miss the first meeting.” I try not to yell, or say anything that will anger him.

“I don’t care. Go finish your reading.” He says. I can tell that he’s not lying- he doesn’t care.

I bite my tongue and nod. Then I go finish my reading.

[themurphyzone]

Lucky Thirteen Ch 3

Ch 3: Three’s a Crowd

Come to Alvizo’s Cafe on Haywood Street. My treat. 

He sent the text, wondering if Dakota was even awake. He’d see the text soon enough, and the promise of brunch would be incredibly tantalizing for his food-obsessed mind. 

The quickest way to Dakota’s heart was through his stomach after all. Cavendish paying for the meal was just the cherry on the sundae. 

The downside was that he’d also have to pay for Doofenshmirtz’s meal too. There was no way around it. Dakota would get suspicious if he didn’t pay for Doofenshmirtz. And Cavendish couldn’t afford to be seen as anything less than a gracious host. 

“That’s weird, the Tip-inator’s supposed to automatically calculate the tip based on your bill and generate the right amount. I have no idea why it’s spitting out enough coins to fill up a Swiss Bank.” 

The floor was completely littered in dimes and quarters, and workers had to take it slow so they didn’t trip over the metallic piles. Many patrons were shooting dirty looks at Doofenshmirtz, though he didn’t seem to notice or care. 

“Can’t you turn it off?” Cavendish asked. 

Doofenshmirtz rolled his eyes. “And miss a chance to do good? Society doesn’t appreciate servers and vendors enough! I should know, I used to be a bratwurst street vendor. I would do my whole ‘I am a Superstar’ routine again if it meant getting this many tips.” 

Cavendish’s phone buzzed. 

Be there soon. Yum! 

Dakota had tacked on a slew of food emojis at the end of his message. For some reason, Dakota insisted on using cups of tea and hamburgers in every text conversation. 

“Moving on. Dakota will be here in just a few minutes. Remember, your job is to make things less awkward than they already are,” Cavendish said. 

Doofenshmirtz threw up his hands. “Hey man, I’m a do-gooder, not a miracle worker. But look on the bright side you unjolly green giant, you don’t have to worry about your budget. If you don’t have enough, you can just scoop some coins off the floor to make up the rest of the bill.” 

Cavendish wasn’t cruel enough to subject a poor worker to counting that many coins. Go figure that Doofenshmirtz managed to figure out a way to help an employee with finances while simultaneously diminishing their efficiency at work. 

Cavendish patted his lapel, making absolutely sure the ring box was secured. He couldn’t afford to lose the rings again. 

The clock’s hands ticked on. 

Dakota still wasn’t here. 

There weren’t any new messages either. 

What’s the exact timeframe of ‘soon’ in this context? A few minutes, an hour, a day, or when the Earth ceases to exist? 

Doofenshmirtz snapped his fingers in Cavendish’s face, bringing him back to the present. “Geez, did you eat something last night that turns you into a praying mantis? Cause I don’t want to be anywhere near you if you’re gonna adopt the whole behead your mate thing.” 

Cavendish realized that he’d been involuntarily holding his arms in front of him, bent at an awkward downward angle. The praying mantis description was somewhat accurate. He shoved his hands into his pockets, slumping against the back of his chair. 

He’d never been good at hiding that particular nervous tic. 

“No, I am not adopting that bug’s appalling mating or dietary habits,” Cavendish muttered petulantly. 

“That’s a relief. Just thought I’d warn you from personal experience, avoid all insects during your proposal. They tend to bug the intended fiance,” Doofenshmirtz said, grinning widely at his own pun. “You see what I did there? Bug as in insect bug?” 

“Yes, you’re a pungeon master entirely worthy of an Emmy award,” Cavendish muttered. “So you’ve proposed before? What did you do?” 

“Wrote a musical number and hired backup singers. Jazz is Charlene’s favorite genre. Had this whole nifty bit with the saxophone. She was impressed. Then a swarm of bees were attracted to the pots of honey we used as background props and stung almost everyone. Charlene managed to escape unscathed, but the backup singers had at least four stingers each and I had to go to the hospital because of allergies. Charlene managed to smooth everyone’s feathers out, cause the backup singers weren’t that happy with me afterward.” 

Note to self: Try to avoid anaphylactic shock via bee stings during proposal. Easy enough to prevent: just don’t involve honeypots in any way, shape, or form. 

“Then we got married, had Vanessa...remind me to show you pictures later, she’s always frowning in her baby pictures but she looks so adorable doing it...oh, and now we’re divorced.” 

Cavendish thought he’d misheard that last sentence. 

Doofenshmirtz coughed. “Now that I think about it, mentioning divorce probably isn’t soothing your nerves.” 

Divorced. Please let me fall to Earth’s molten core so I don’t have to deal with this anymore. 

Dakota arrived half an hour later. He munched on a chocolate donut, casually wading through the pile of coins that were now ankle-deep. 

“What took you so long?” Cavendish griped once Dakota sat down. 

“Donut place had free samples. Figured I’d grab one for the road,” Dakota replied, licking the chocolate off his fingers. “And I can’t say no to the breakfast burritos here.” 

“Yes, heaven forbid that you refuse food,” Cavendish agreed. 

“Yeah, he was all worried about being jilted,” Doofenshmirtz added. “Perry the Platypus did that to me from time to time. Like, I get the mysterious secret agent schtick, but at least tell me why you can’t thwart first.” 

Cavendish scowled. “I wasn’t worried about being jilted! You’re completely misconstruing the situation!” 

Realizing that people were staring, Cavendish quickly buried his head in the menu and pretended to read the pancake options. Since Cavendish was preoccupied with his embarrassment, Dakota was the one who signaled a waiter to come over and take their orders. 

“Blueberry pancakes with tea,” Cavendish mumbled to the waiter, regretting that he couldn’t hang onto the menu to hide behind when he needed a moment to recuperate. 

Rather predictably, Dakota ordered breakfast burritos. 

Doofenshmirtz decided on eggs and bratwurst. He spent four minutes rambling about the superiority of bratwurst to hot dogs before the waiter got fed up and left for the kitchen. 

“How’s Milo doing?” Dakota asked. “I’m trying to lay low for a while. I think his parents are trying to get me and Cavendish to pay for a new table since we used theirs to temporarily plug a deadly vortex.” 

“He told me some of my bad luck came from not thinking things through,” Doofenshmirtz said. “I think he’s onto something.” 

“Yeah, he’s a smart kid,” Dakota said.  

“So if I just take enough time to think about my actions, I can avoid stuff blowing up in my face at a later point. Alright, so I ordered eggs and bratwurst, and that doesn’t come with dairy, so my body won’t react from lactose intolerance, the cafe gets $10.99 from my order alone, unless the coins build up enough to cause structural damage which they’d have to spend money to fix,” Doofenshmirtz mused. He quickly pressed a button on the Tip-inator, and the coin flow trickled to a halt. “Oh, that’s useful. I found a potential consequence and I figured out how to avert it. Thinking through stuff works!” 

By now, everyone’s knees were buried underneath the coins. Parents had to carry their children out the door. 

The waiter finally delivered their food, then rushed over to help a coworker who was stuck behind the counter.

Cavendish tried to focus on cutting his pancakes instead of how he had nothing to talk about. How did one broach the topic of engagement? 

Thank you for not letting me stay dead. Will you marry me?  

Yeah, that would go over well. 

“You gonna say something or what?” Doofenshmirtz asked, poking Cavendish with his fork. “Cause you’re quieter than Mother whenever she gave me the silent treatment.” 

Cavendish brushed the offending utensil away. “I was about to say how...nice the sun is today.” 

Dakota pointed to the gray clouds that blanketed the sky. “It’s overcast.”

“Of course,” Cavendish quickly amended. “The clouds look nice today.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Dakota asked. His breakfast burrito threatened to dump its contents all over his pants. 

“Dakota, keep that greasy thing over your plate,” Cavendish scolded. 

Dakota sighed in relief. “Never mind, you’re fine.” 

“Look, a nonspecific thing in the ceiling!” Doofenshmirtz shouted, pointing above Dakota’s head. When Dakota glanced at the ceiling, Doofenshmirtz snatched Cavendish’s arm and hauled him to the restroom. 

Cavendish yanked his arm out of Doofenshmirtz’s grip. The doc was faster than he looked. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Cavendish snapped.

Doofenshmirtz scowled. “That’s my line, mustachio. The sun is nice? The clouds are nice? I can’t believe you sunk low enough to start talking about the weather! That’s like, first date material! The kind that doesn’t lead to a second date!” 

“I was nervous!” 

“I was nervous when I proposed! And you know what? I just did the musical number anyway! Just pop the question already!” 

“Why are you even here?” 

“You told Brigitte and Martin that you wanted my help! Okay, Martin seemed oddly happy that I was out of the house but oh well. They filled me on the way over here,” Doofenshmirtz said. 

“You’re the worst wingman in the history of wingmen,” Cavendish growled. 

“I’m beginning to understand why Perry the Platypus always seemed more annoyed when he had to wingman my dates,” Doofenshmirtz sighed. “Still, I don’t think I was ever this hopeless.” 

He has a point. This is hopeless. 

Cavendish turned to the sink, splashing his face with water to clear his mind. 

“What do I even say?” Cavendish muttered. 

“Well, if you can’t do musical numbers or long, flowery speeches, there’s always the direct approach.” 

Though he was fairly certain that Doofenshmirtz and direct were complete opposites, Cavendish decided to humor him. “What’s your idea for the direct approach?” he asked. 

“Some punching, a little kicking...you know if you throw your hat like a projectile he’ll probably find it cool. And trapping! Trapping him in your clutches works too!” 

“Never mind. I regret asking.” 

“And the manager had to bring out this really tall stepladder! And he was afraid of heights so he asked our waiter, but he was afraid of bats. So they tried getting this other girl to do it but she was afraid of ladders,” Dakota said, continuing his play-by-play of the events that Cavendish and Doofenshmirtz missed while they’d argued in the restroom. “So they got their chef out here and guess what?” 

“He was afraid of ceilings?” Doofenshmirtz guessed. 

Dakota shook his head. “Nope, he was scared of the spider that made its home in a top corner of the ladder. But they got the bat down, so crisis averted.”  

Doofenshmirtz and Dakota laughed together, but Cavendish really didn’t see what was so funny about it. At least heights, ladders, bats, and spiders were all tangible. 

Cavendish couldn’t pinpoint his fear toward one thing when it came to the dreaded question. 

Their food was cleared away, then the check was dropped off. Cavendish felt a bit guilty when he saw the receipt.

“What’s up? More than you expected?” Dakota asked. 

“Said it was my treat, didn’t I?” Cavendish said, carefully counting out his money to make exact change. The total price of their meals didn’t bother him, but the physical receipt did. 

He looked up to find Doofenshmirtz pinching his index finger and thumb together to form a ring shape, not so subtly indicating Dakota with his other hand. 

Okay, maybe I can do this. How hard can it be? Face Dakota. Open mouth. Try not to insult him. Take out ring box. Actually, speaking should go somewhere in there too. 

“Dakota, there’s something-”

“WE HAVE SECURED PERMISSION TO SEARCH THIS CAFE!” 

Everyone screamed as coins suddenly flew everywhere. Three men in perfectly tailored suits and sunglasses spread out, swiping through coin piles and upturning tables as they searched. 

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” one of the men said, stopping at their table. “Many of the patrons have stated that a machine is the source of these coins. They pointed us to your table. Do you know anything?” 

Cavendish and Dakota were fully prepared to deny these accusations, but Doofenshmirtz beat them to the punch. 

“The Tip-inator’s mine,” Doofenshmirtz said, brushing coins off the machine and setting it in front of the stunned agent. “Waiters won’t have to worry about bad tips again with this puppy!” 

Some people were just asking to be punched in the face with an elephant. 

“Counterfeiting is a federal offense. We’ll have to take you in,” the man said as he handcuffed Doofenshmirtz. Then he gestured to Cavendish and Dakota. “Are they accomplices?” 

“No,” Doofenshmirtz scowled. “I was wingmaning them cause the leprechaun can’t-” 

“Yeesh,” the agent grimaced, and Cavendish was grateful for his timing. “Word of advice: don’t pick felons for wingmen.” 

Tell me about it. 

“Wow, so this is the consequence I should’ve been wary of, not the structural damage thing,” Doofenshmirtz said as he was led to a white federal vehicle and taken away. He may have the right to remain silent, but he sure as heck wouldn’t be taking advantage of it. 

“Why was he wingmaning us? Did you need a mediator cause you’re mad at me for some reason?” Dakota asked. 

“Yes and no,” Cavendish said. 

“This is about me dropping your Professor Time boxers into the red load at the laundromat, isn’t it?” 

“No, it’s not that. I wanted a nice brunch and then he goes and gets himself arrested and I’ve been overcome by the urge to strangle my twenty-year-old self for buying that Professor Time pin-up calendar...and you dropped my Professor Time boxers into the red load?” 

Dakota grinned. “I plead not guilty.” 

“Don’t even joke about that,” Cavendish muttered. 

“Thanks for the burrito. It was good. There’s an adoption fair in the mall today. You wanna go look at cute animals?” 

“You go ahead. I think I need a me day,” Cavendish said. Mostly to think about his next course of action, since Operation: Propose After Brunch was a complete bust. 

“Catch ya later then,” Dakota said, humming to himself as he walked off. “Goin’ to the fair. Goin’ to the fair, and then I’m gonna see some animals!” 

The world didn’t end. It’s not exactly the worst case scenario. 

“Krrr.” 

Cavendish looked up from his sulking to find Perry the Platypus examining the Tip-inator. The men must’ve forgotten to take the machine for evidence. 

“The federal agents arrested Doofenshmirtz for counterfeiting,” Cavendish explained. “He was trying to correct the issue of bad tipping.” 

Perry tipped his hat in a silent thanks, scribbling out a note that stated he would speak to Doofenshmirtz later. 

And use some cartoonish physical violence too. Cavendish chose not to question it. 

Perry flipped a switch in the Tip-inator, and the coins vanished in a flash of light. Then he ripped out a wire, disabling it for good. 

“When you see him, can you punch him once for me?” Cavendish asked. 

Perry saluted, more than happy to oblige the request. 

It wouldn’t solve his proposal problem, but it made him feel better. 

AN: Talk about a trainwreck

[tsarethan]

More Ghost stuff

random questions i answered sorry this is terrible

 What is/are your OC’s nickname(s) and how did it come about?

Pup/dog from Ramsey, Ghost in team rainbow and Wolf in the SAS

 What is the colour of your OC’s eyes/hair/skin?

Blue/green eyes, blonde hair and white skin

 How tall is your OC?

5’4

What is a noticeable physical attribute of your OC?

He’s still pretty pale from the drugs and the track marks on his arms again from the drugs. He has a few tattoos as well mostly of animals

What does your OC normally wear? What would your OC wear on a special night?

Well he’s in the army so his normal combat gear or a pair of joggers and an oversized t-shirt/hoodie. Ethan’s not one for formal wear he’s very casual, owns multiple pairs of black skinny jeans that are a little big on him and plaid shirts with a t-shirt underneath are his go too

What is one word you would use to describe your OC’s appearances?

Ordinary (assuming this means the way he dresses)

Does your OC have any markings, such as a birthmark or a scar?

He has a couple of scars from bullet wounds and knife scars but the most notable is the ‘Ramsey’s attack dog’ that is carved into the left side of his torso. He has a tattoo on his left forearm of a big black wolf holding a union jack flag and a spitfire plane tattooed on his other forearm, he has a bunch of other tattoos just dotted round but those two are the most notable ones

How does your OC talk/what does your OC’s voice sound like?

He’s from Liverpool but isn’t conventional, he doesn’t have the typical scouse accent, but other brits can still tell where he’s from  

What does your OC’s bedroom look like?  His/her living area?

On base his room isn’t overly decorated, a few posters and books. In Thatcher’s house is like a normal bedroom, posters, figures, Xbox, pained a dark blue. It’s a loft room so the ceiling is slanted with the roof but there’s a window on the slanted roof which he enjoys because he can smoke in his room and it leaves nice colours in his room at sunset. He’s got a double bed and nice tv to go along with the Xbox and he’s eternally grateful to his dad.

What does your OC keep in a special drawer?

Weed box and knife collection

What is your OC’s relationship with his/her mother?

His mum was murdered brutally on Ramsey’s orders, they weren’t that close

What is your OC’s relationship with his/her father?

His birth dad is the same as his mum, was later adopted by Thatcher, they have a great relationship even if they bicker a lot

How many siblings does your OC and what is his/her relationship with them?

Birth family he had one sister named Laura they have never had a good relationship and it was only made worse with their parents’ deaths

Who is the mother and/or father figure in your OC’s life?

Thatcher

What was your OC’s childhood like?

Until he was 11 Ethan had a pretty normal childhood that’s when everything went to shit with (unknowingly) joining the syndicate

What is your OC’s strongest childhood memory? Why and how as that impacted him/her?

With it saying childhood I’m gonna say from before aged 11, Ethan’s not sure if it’s a memory or something his brain came up with after being told the story but when he was 4 he nearly fell down the gap between the train and the platform edge. He was dangling in that gap for a good few seconds as his mum ha a hold of his hand, but she was also holding a bunch of bags and couldn’t pull him completely out. A stranger grabbed Ethan and lifted him out, ever since then he’s been terrified of the gap between trains and platforms and makes sure people stay far away from the yellow line at the station. If people don’t it can send him into a full blown panic attack

What is your OC’s imagination like?

Hes a bit of a daydreamer but most of what he thinks is his revenge against Ramsey. With his drawings they are mostly vent art or drawings of the other ops

How many times did your OC move as a child?  Which area was his/her favourite?

Never moved, his family lived in a poor as shit area and couldn’t afford to move

What does your OC think of children- either in general or about having them?

He loves the kids in his adoptive family but has never thought about having kids of his own, when he thinks of family he thinks of the people already around him rather than settling own and having his own

What kind of mother/father would your OC be?

Idk he’s still really young and going through a lot with the trauma he’s experienced so I don’t think he would put too much thought on being a parent

Who is your OC’s closest relatives?

His dad (Thatcher), Sledge, Mute, Smoke (like brothers to him)

Who is/are your OC’s closest friend(s)?

Bandit, Mute, Rook, Twitch, Glaz, kapkan

Who are the people your OC surrounds him/herself with?

People who can have a laugh but he’s generally on okay terms with the whole team besides lion

Who are the people your OC dislikes/hates?

Ignorant hateful people, those who have a problem with his family, people who look down on him for his age, sexuality and background. Greed driven people and people who think they’re better than everyone else thinking they are gods gift to the world

If your OC has a soulmate, who is it?

Bandit

Why does your OC and his/her soulmate work so well together?

They have suffered in similar ways and have seen similar horrors. At the start of rainbow they were both outcasted by other CTU’s (not the SAS and GSG9) they learned to survive through this together and grew into an infamous team in rainbow. They both learn to heal together

What are some things your OC admires about his/her soulmate?

His ability to control his anger, Ethan knows what effect the things they have both experienced can damage the control of anger and violence. Bandits restraint is a great thing and how he can turn it into harmless pranks

How did your OC and his/her soulmate meet?

The first gathering of team rainbow in Hereford base

What is your OC’s level of education?

He got up to A-Levels

Did your OC participate in extracurricular activities, and if so, what were they?

Nope

What is your OC’s opinion of school?  What kind of student was s/he?

He was very fond of school it gave him a chance to be normal for a few hours of the day even if he was getting into fights quite a bit

What subjects did your OC excel at?

History, science, art and mechanics

What subjects interested your OC?

History and art

What is your OC’s dream job and/or current profession?

Well he’s serving a military service but if he had a choice he would have liked to work in a museum

How is your OC working towards his/her dream job and/or achieved his/her current profession?

He’s not working towards it as he can’t, and he got this job through a plea deal

What are your OC’s thoughts/opinions of his/her current profession?

He’s good at what he does and has found a family so he’s happy where he is, it’s certainly better than a prison cell

What is your OC’s biggest dream?

Keep the team alive longer than himself

How does your OC react to and handle stress?

Sleeps, drinks, smokes, fights either other ops or a punching bag

How does your OC handle anger?

Anger is what he handles the worst he can have severe violent breakdowns but he’s learned how to control it for the most part but that will only last so long

How does your OC handle grief?

He shuts down, you won’t get a response from him at all, it then turns destructive and after that he grieves normally, cries and tries his very best to move on from it. The most grief he’s experienced so far was from the murder of his parents and the only thing that could make him go through that extreme sort of grief again would be the death of one of the SAS or Bandit

What is your OC’s greatest fear?

Losing the people, he loves and falling back into Ramsey’s grasp again

What makes your OC happy?

His family and friends, having a day off at the same time as bandit so they can chill together

What kind of sense of humour does your OC have?

Very dark humour along with the typical millennial humour

What are some things that greatly upset your OC?

Being unable to help those on his team, he would lay down his life for them and he was taught any failure to save those ‘more important’ than himself was met with severe punishment (torture)

What are some things that annoy your OC?

People not understanding when he says he wants to be alone for a bit. People making fun of him for being 24 and being as close as he is with his dad

If your OC has them, what are some regrets s/he has?

Everything he’s done between the ages of 11-18

How easily does your OC forgive?

Petty bitch very rarely forgives

If your OC experienced trauma, what was it?

Torture, dehumanisation, body mutilation, he was in a brutal crime syndicate he’s seen so much at a very young age

What secrets does your OC have?

While he feels guilty for everything he done he doesn’t really feel bad for the victims, they were rivals and other criminals and he thinks what he done was mostly justified in his very black and white view on innocent and guilty. Also, he knows a lot more than what he told the police when he negotiated

What are some of your OC’s morals?

If you’re innocent you’re innocent, if you’re guilty it doesn’t matter what happens to you as long as you’re dealt with. However, his view of his is guilty is towards the real scum bags not just like people caught with drugs or imprisoned for petty stuff

What are some of your OC’s motivations?

His ingrained nature to protect an seeing how easy it is for situations to go south, very much a ‘if I don’t save them then who will’ along with obviously the supportive people he has around him

What is the health of your OC?

He’s not exactly a health freak, he enjoys drinking just a little bit too much and enjoys smoking weed, he did smoke cigarettes but with advice from sledge he got an electric cigarette instead. He eats pretty much whatever he wants not thinking too much about it (until he gets food poisoning or some shit) so not in the best of shape but he’s not out of shape either with his profession it’s hard to be out of shape and still meet expectations

Does your OC think with his/her head or heart?

A bit of both, outside of missions/training he thinks with his heart

What are your OC’s thoughts on death?

His own death doesn’t phase him, he’s come close more than once and he knows its gonna happen one day, so he accepts it

What are some of your OC’s strengths?

His situational awareness and skill with knives, anger management, never give up attitude

What are some of your OC’s weaknesses?

How much he cares for others, it can be too much and lead to him making impulsive choices, his trouble with forgiving people like the whole lion situation on a good day he’ll be civil with Olivier but on others not so much so he just tries to avoid Oli as much as possible, he’s also still weary about the other GIGN ops after the whole incident even though he loves the others he hasn’t forgotten the looks on their faces during the stand off and the choice words that were exchanged

How does your OC take criticism?

Not well he finds it a bit degrading and will struggle to see where he went wrong because he’s usually pretty good at pointing out his own flaws and failures

What does your OC think of him/herself?

He struggles with having an identity like he’s not really sure who he is, what type of person he is, but even still he has a very negative viewpoint of himself with how little he actually understands

What is the general impression your OC gives other people?

Snarky little kid who needs to cheer up a bit

How emotionally/mentally vulnerable is your OC with other people?

Not very unless they become close, the people who he’s vulnerable with the most is thatcher followed closely by bandit, but they are working on that

How does your OC display love?

Not a big fan of pda but loves cuddling on the couch with his quilt  

What is your OC’s favourite drink?

Non-alcoholic: probably original Lucozade

Alcoholic: Heineken or Becks

What is your OC’s favourite food?

Probably tuna pasta or chicken ceaser wrap

What is your OC’s favourite sweet?

Skittles, when he’s in the mood to be a little shit he will down a bag of them with a red bull

What is your OC’s favourite season?

Autumn/winter

What is your OC’s favourite kind of weather?

Where it’s a little chilly but not cold, like the sky is grey but you can still walk around only needing a hoodie/light jacket

What is your OC’s favourite book?

Game of Thrones

What is your OC’s favourite movie and/or TV show?

Movie: Guy Ritchie’s sherlock Holmes films (with RDJ and Jude Law)

TV show: line of duty or game of thrones or Luther although air crash investigation is something he will happily both binge watch and leave as background music

What is your OC’s favourite kind music (and song if there is one)?

He loves most types of music, focuses more on good songs than a good genre, his favourite song would probably either ‘I was just a kid’ or ‘Amsterdam’ both by nothing but thieves

What is your OC’s favourite form of entertainment?

Video games

What is your OC’s favourite colour?

Dark blue

What is your OC’s favourite animal?

Wolf

What is your OC’s favourite sound?

Thunderstorms

What is your OC’s favourite time of day?

late nights/early morning when everything is calm

What is your OC’s favourite kind of ice cream?

Mint chocolate

What is your OC’s favourite dinosaur?

carnotaurus

[btsiguess]

Choices (m) - 1

Summary: You didn’t think that when you woke up this morning you were going to go out and buy a hybrid. But really, ending up with this stupid cat might be the best thing that ever happened to you. Much to both you and Yoongi’s chagrin. 

Pairing: Yoongi/Reader

Genre: Fluff, eventual smut

Word Count: 2859, so just a drabble series guys.

Warnings: Reckless driving!!!

A/Ns: Oh look, another Yoongi fic. Are we surprised? No. And I’m also NOT sorry. Anyway, this idea has been bouncing around my brain for a while and so I just decided to go for it. It’ll just be a drabble series though, so shorter chapters! Because I’m an impatient bitch!!!!

Chapters: 1 2 3

“Honey, I just really don’t like the idea of you living in your own in such a big city!” Your mother chastises you over the phone. “You didn’t even leave home for college, and now this? Moving to Seoul on your own? I understand that this job is important to you but still… I wish you’d be realistic.”

Hard as it was, you try your best to be understanding of your mother’s concerns. It’s true that you’ve never been away from home before, but you aren’t incompetent. It had merely been a matter of money, and nothing more. And now, freshly out of college, you’ve been lucky enough to land a job with one of Seoul’s top marketing firms. You have your parents to thank for giving you the tools you needed to succeed - helping pay for school and even supporting you through unpaid summer internships and grant opportunities - you’re nothing but grateful for that. That’s why you always keep your mouth shut as your mother frets over your well-being, that’s why you bit back your protestations and sighs. It’s all in an effort to spare her feelings.

“Mama,” you finally renege, “you and dad have taught me so well. I’m old enough now, to be on my own. Besides, this is my dream job! I’m making way more money than a recent college graduate ought to be.”

The deep resigned sigh from the other end of the line tells you your mother is out of steam for today.

“What about getting one of those pets?” She suggests finally. “One of those hybrids you know? I’m sure your father and I would feel much more secure if you had a watchdog. And hybrid’s can even phone the police if something happens!”

You laugh quietly at your mother’s words. You suppose you were lucky, at least, that she wasn’t insisting on you finding a boyfriend.

“Mama, you know I don’t have the time for a hybrid. They’re a lot of work…”

“Oh I know sweetie but still it would just make us feel so much better, you’re so far away.”

Biting your lip, you glance at your watch. If you don’t wrap up this conversation soon, you are absolutely going to be late for work. And at only a few weeks into this new job, that’s something you simply can’t afford.

“Aish, alright mom, I’ll at least consider it.” You placate her. “But as of right now, I’ll have to let you go. I don’t want to be late for work!”

You bid your mother farewell and agree to talk at the same time the next day. She seems pacified by your promise to think over her request, and thus the end of the conversation goes quickly and smoothly. Soon you find yourself stepping out of your car, and striding inside the large building that houses your corporate offices.

You like your job, you truly do, but Monday’s are always the hardest. Not because it’s the start of a new week or anything, but just because every Monday your floor had a little team building meeting. One where you had to participate and talk to your fellow coworkers. It was mostly fine, but there were one or two people you could do without. Namely…

“I just didn’t know what else to do!” ahh, yes. Soojung.

Your absolute least favorite human being in this entire fucking office.

“He was a monster, I swear.” She’s seated at the large conference room table, a large gaggle of girls standing around her, listening to her speak.

“All he did was bite me and scratch me up whenever I went near him! I feel bad, you know? I’m apparently the third person to give him up! The shelter says they have no option but to put him down.” The girls around her nod in understanding.

“I know there are some hybrid shelters that are no-kill, but I just couldn’t stand to have him around for one second more!”

Holy shit, did she just say that the hybrid shelter was going to put someone down? Like… a genuine living, speaking, near-human hybrid?

What the fuck.

“Soojung,” you interrupt, and the entire group of girls looks at you in surprise. “Where did you say you dropped your hybrid off?”

And that’s how you found yourself standing at the front of a hybrid shelter as soon as your shift had come to a close. There was no way in fucking hell that you could just let some hybrid be murdered. Seriously. What the fuck? Still though, you eye the door somewhat apprehensively. You know you don’t exactly have what it takes to be the owner of a hybrid, but still… anything has to be better than being dead right? Right?

You draw a deep sigh and make your way inside. A small, plump woman greets you as you walk in and you do your best to swallow your nerves and smile at her.

“What can I do for you today, sweetie?” She coos, and you instantly feel uncomfortable. This is definitely a mistake, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. A literal life is on the line here.

“Actually, I just overheard some of my coworkers talking today. About how much they love their hybrids. I’m thinking about adopting one?”

“Well, you’ve absolutely come to the right place! Let me show you our--”

“Actually, I was wondering if you… well I read online that you guys are a, you know, a kill shelter,” the woman winces at your words, “and I was just wondering if you have any… I mean, like any hopeless cases. I just really would hate to see a hybrid put down you know? When I could provide them a good home.”

The woman’s face pinches up in a wholly unattractive way. As if your claims had personally offended her.

“There’s one, but you don’t want him.” she says.

“I mean, I think I can decide that for myself, no?” Is your curt reply.

The woman shrugs angrily, and steps out from behind her desk.

“Fine then. Follow me.”

She leads you through the showroom of animals, and you do your best not to look at anything but your feet. You don’t want to be persuaded into getting more than one hybrid, you’re a sucker for puppy dog eyes, and here they have them, well… literally.

Soon enough you’re brought into a back room, it seems to be for employees only, and your stomach quickly turns by what you see there.

A dark hybrid cat. Locked in a cage much too small for him. His hands are bruised and bloodied, as if he had tried - unsuccessfully - to fight his way out of his current predicament. He’s curled up in what looks like restless sleep, but as soon as you enter his eyes shoot open.

“This is him.” The woman tells you simply.

“Great,” you gesture to the cat before you, “I would like this hybrid, please and thank you.”

The woman gapes at you.

“You don’t even want to speak with him first?”

Your eyes shift briefly to the caged man, watching the way he follows your every move. There’s a small flicker of hope in the cat’s eyes, and so you shake your head.

“No, I don’t think that will be necessary. He seems perfect. Exactly what I’m looking for.”

She gives you a scowl before motioning for you to follow her back to the front. There’s way more paperwork than you thought there would be. And it’s over an hour later when another employee finally brings out the hybrid to you.

“No one likes a girl with a saviour complex you know.” The woman mutters towards you and you flinch slightly when another worker cheerily tells you to enjoy ‘your’ new hybrid. Your discomfort only grows when you see the cats eyes flash with anger.

It’s only later, when you and the cat are finally sitting in your car, that you realize what you’ve done.

“Oh my fucking god. What the fuck.” You mutter, glancing at the literal cat person next to you.

He gazes back, a look of uninterested confusion on his face.

“Why are you acting like this, human?” He says finally, and the low timbre of his voice takes you by surprise.

“What?” is the only thing you can think to say.

“You’re being annoying. Why are you being annoying?”

“Sorry.” You snap at him, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “When I woke up this morning I didn’t realize I was going to become responsible for another person’s wellbeing, thanks. Color me a little overwhelmed.”

The cat before you pauses slightly for a moment, his head tilting to the side, ears twitching. He says nothing for a while, and you grow more and more antsy with every passing second. What was this cat playing at, seriously?

“What?!” You finally lose your temper, but the cat merely smirks at you slightly, as if your outburst was exactly what he had wanted.

“You called me ‘person’ you know.” He says.

“Well aren’t you?” You try to collect yourself as you pull out of the parking lot.

“Not in the eyes of the law.”

Oh shit.

“Seem like a person to me.” You mutter under your breath. “Bitchy like a person.”

The cat scoffs.

“You passed the pet store.” He says, in lieu of replying.

“Why would I need to go to the pet store?”

The cat looks at you, incredulous before starting off.

“A collar? A leash? Fucking food? You aren’t put together in the slightest, there’s no way you have all that shit at home.”

You’re offended, but only because he’s right. You screech your car around in a dangerous U-turn while the cat beside you hisses and digs his claws into the fabric of your seat, tearing up some of the padding.

“What the FUCK are you doing?” The hybrid yells. “Are you trying to kill us?”

You pull calmly into the pet store, satisfied by the way you’ve worked the cat up.

“Mmm, not today. Let’s go.” You say, opening the car door. Again you’re greeted with a dubious look from your new companion.

“I can’t go in there without a leash and a collar.” He says finally.

“Oh geez.” You mumble. “I’m so not prepared for this and I’m going to kill us both.”

“Reassuring.”

“Shut up, cat.” You snipe. “If I leave you here for like, two seconds will you be okay? I’ll run in and get a leash and collar so you can come in too and pick out what you want.”

The cat looks surprised but nods.

You crank the window down and motion for him to do the same. He doesn’t.

You roll your eyes and begin to walk away from the car anyway. Whatever. Let him suffocate. Whatever.

Suddenly a thought occurs to you and you spin quickly on your heels, leaning down to peer through the window of the car.

“What color?” You ask, and the cat tilts his head, his dark feline ears twitching once more.

“What?”

“Like, what color leash and collar do you want? Any requests?”

The cat ponders for a moment, and you’re unsure whether he’s mulling over the question or the fact you’ve bothered to get his opinion in the first place.

“Black.” He says finally. “Leather, if they have it. Oh, and I’m a medium.”

You nod and give the cat a small thumbs up before hurrying inside. You’re not sure you trust your new companion in the car by himself, and so you try to work quickly. You locate the collars and leashes with relative ease, and try your best to pick out one that the cat waiting for you would like.

It’s no more than five minutes before you’re outside the shop again, and the cat merely shrugs at your choices for him. You’re a bit disheartened, but you try not to let it show too much. He’s supposed to be a problem cat or whatever. It is what it is.

He gets out of the car and stands before you. You’re a bit surprised at how tall the hybrid is. And it would take a fool not to notice how handsome, as well. You hope your cheeks don’t go as red as they feel, but when the cat raises his eyebrow at you, you know you’ve been caught.

“Here.” You say, holding out his collar and hoping he will accept the change of subject.

He takes it and quickly fastens it around his neck. It fits perfectly, and you notice that the cat gives a satisfied hum as he glances at his reflection in your car’s side mirror.

“S-Sorry.” You mutter as you hold out the leash to clip it onto his collar. Something about this feels so incredibly wrong, and it twists your gut. Your hands shake slightly as you try and attach the leash, your fingers coming in contact with the skin of the cat’s throat. The touch alarms the both of you, but neither of you elect to mention it directly.

“It’s fine. Rules are rules.” The hybrid tells you, gazing down at you. It’s an oddly intimate moment, and suddenly you step back, hoping to distance yourself from the man - the hybrid in front of you.

“Right.” You say, too loudly. “Let’s go.”

Despite you being the one with the leash, the cat is definitely leading. You let him. He knows more about this than you do.

“Here.” He says, stopping in front of a bright yellow machine. “You need to make me a dog tag.”

“A cat tag.” You mumble, earning a disinterested glance from the cat.

“Just hurry and make one. I’m not supposed to be going around without it.”

“Okay well… What type do you like? Just pick whatever.”

The cat hesitates once more, eyes trailing over the rack. He eventually selects a simple silver circle, and you nod your head in agreement. It would look absolutely gorgeous against the cat’s beautifully tan skin.

You place the tag into the machine, jumping slightly as it whirs to life, your action making the hybrid shake his head.

You dutifully follow the directions, typing in your address and apartment number and your telephone, lest the cat get lost and needs to be returned. You pause however when the final question appears:

What’s your companion’s name?

Oh fuck. You didn’t even know his name. You fucking suck.

“I’m sorry,” you start, glancing at him, “but I don’t know your name.”

The cat looks surprised, but not angry like you were expecting.

“What do you mean?” He questions. “You pick it.”

Your face must betray how horrified you are because his ears twitch at you, something you’re beginning to learn means he thinks you’re acting in an unexpected way.

“No, that’s too much.” You say finally. “You’re like, a whole adult man. You can pick your fucking name.”

The cat is still for a moment, as if he’s expecting you to laugh and take the opportunity away.

“I’m serious.” You reassure. “If you don’t pick, I’ll write something embarrassing. You look like a ‘Fuzzball’ to me.”

The cat moves faster than you’ve ever seen him.

You peek over his shoulder as he types in his name and then hits the ‘print’ button before you can change your mind. It’s with utter fascination that the two of you watch the laser etch out a beautiful looking ‘Yoongi’ onto the dainty tag.

“Yoongi?” you say, rolling the name over your tongue. “That’s a really beautiful name.  It really suits you.”

“Thanks.” Is his only response, as he scuffs his shoe along the ground.

You clip the little tag to his collar with some difficulty, but Yoongi doesn’t complain. He simply watches you there before him, eyeing interestedly the way your tongue peeks out of the corner of your mouth in concentration.

After that, Yoongi seems to be in higher spirits, carefully piling his wants and needs into your cart. You feel a little desperate, watching the price tag increase in your mind’s eye, but you know you have enough saved away, and seeing Yoongi look… well, as close to happy as you imagine he can get is enough of a reward for the hit your wallet is about to receive.

When you push you your carriage into the bedding section you watch Yoongi shrug and shake his head.

“I don’t need one of these.” He says to you, firmly.

“Oh? Why not? Do you prefer sleeping on the floor or something?” You puzzle.

The cat laughs for the first time since you’ve gotten him. A wide genuine laugh that pulls at the edge of his lips and makes him smile - really smile - for the first time. Your heart skips a beat in your chest.

“No.” He says, eyeing you. “I want to sleep in your bed. With you.”

You think you might pass out.

“Excuse me?” you choke out, weakly.

“Oh you know me,” he says, practically reveling in your surprise, “I’m a real big cuddler.”

With that, Yoongi winks and walks away. Leaving you to pick up your broken pieces all alone.

A/N: And there you go, have more garbage. Whatevs. @gimmesumsuga!!! You haven’t read this one yet because I wrote it in 20 minutes before I went to bed lol.

[tsaritsa]

the end is the same (for everyone)

hi guys. here’s the 6k fic i wrote for day 1 of royai week. i incorporated all 3 themes bc i’m that Hoe

warnings: allusions to child trafficking (but it has a happy ending)

“He knew we were on a lead! But sure, let’s just drag us out of that because of some third-rate mobster-”

“Brother-”

It was late afternoon at Central Headquarters, with the sun lazily hovering in the sky, drenching the Western Wing in deep hues of orange and pink. The majority of the administration personnel had already turned in for the day; instead leaving the night staff flitting around the building like moths around a candle. Edward had only been inside Central Command a few times in the short years since he became a State Alchemist, but it still gave him pause when he considered just how vast the place was.

They certainly weren’t in Resembool anymore.

He threw up his hands in frustration as they rounded the corner and opened the door to the office they’d been given direction to. “Al, he knew! Next time he asks for my help-”

“I can’t think of a time when I’d be asking for your help Fullmetal, but I certainly wouldn’t be complaining about it as much as you are,” Mustang answered smoothly, standing up from the desk he had been hunched over, ink stains all over his hands. “You have been ordered to join this mission and you will perform your duties as such.” He turned to Lieutenant Hawkeye, who Edward realised wasn’t in the familiar navy of the military uniform – none of the occupants in the room were, actually. Blues had been replaced with blacks, uniforms with formal suits, and for the Lieutenant – a slinky black number that was practically dripping in what he could only assume were diamonds. It almost looked like armour, with the way the fabric was sewn, and how the gems laid on top of on another, interlocking in a complex pattern.

Mustang cocked his head to the side as he considered the Lieutenant. “Do you need more diamonds?”

Hawkeye hummed and stretched her arm out to inspect her shoulder better – the diamonds glinted and dazzled with every movement. “I think we should be fine now, sir. Anything more and I wouldn’t be surprised if Bobby suspected we were there for him.” She turned to face the brothers properly, an expectant look on her face. “You have received the dossier we sent to Eastern Headquarters, correct?”

Edward and Alphonse nodded.

She gestured to the couch, accepting the file the Colonel handed her. “Then tell me your role. This operation has to go smoothly, and the last thing we want is for you to get caught in the crossfire if something goes wrong.” Hawkeye settled herself neatly by the low table, adjusting her dress as she knelt down. It was a far cry from how he had seen her before – Lieutenant Hawkeye wasn’t someone Edward would personally call scary…but her no-nonsense attitude left Edward with the impression that she didn’t have the time to suffer fools. How Mustang made himself an exception to that rule was a mystery.

“We’re acting as decoys, right?”

The Lieutenant nodded. “Us two, as well as Colonel Mustang will be acting as a lure for Bobby Carlsberg. The event we’re attending tonight is a charity function that’s actually a front for a black market auction. The man has done far worse than peddling illegal goods on the side, but we need to arrest him with an actual crime to ensure we can make all the other charges stick.”

“What has he done?” Alphonse asked.

Hawkeye’s lips thinned. “It doesn’t need to be repeated,” she said firmly, shaking her head. “In any case I’m sure more will be uncovered once we have jurisdiction over his financial records and can do a through sweep of his townhouse apartment. But those aren’t details necessary for tonight. What I need from the two of you is absolute compliance with any orders I give, or that the Colonel gives tonight. This isn’t an operation where you can just fight your way out-”

Edward scoffed. “We’re not that bad-”

“Tell that to the expense reports the Lieutenant is continually filling out on your behalf,” Mustang said pointedly from one of the desks, not looking up from his work. “I’m not in the mood for a tantrum tonight, Fullmetal. This is our only chance to get this guy and I will not have you screwing it up for me.”

“Please, Edward. We know you and Alphonse are capable – but in this instance you’re simply playing the role of a child.” Hawkeye’s tone was less acerbic, but no less insistent. “Working as a team is the best way to catch this man.”

Edward crossed his arms over his chest. “Then why aren’t we including Al in this? If it came to blows, then-”

“Alphonse is a civilian. We are not endangering his life when there are plenty of soldiers to spare first.” Mustang pushed himself away from his desk, passing the Lieutenant a small bracelet that glinted in the office light similarly to the gemstones attached to her dress. “Is that too gaudy for Mrs Phillips?”

Hawkeye shook her head, a small smile curling up her lips. “Such a shame you won’t let me keep these diamonds – I could afford to rent a better apartment if you kept me supplied. I doubt the lapidists would notice you transmuted them.”

“Knowing you, you’d only adopt more dogs. The economy would crumble overnight as you bought out every breeder in the country.” Mustang’s tone was teasing, and this annoyed Edward for reasons he couldn’t quite explain.

“I thought State Alchemists weren’t meant to use their abilities to create personal wealth.” The words were careless and thrown out, and he knew he had overstepped as soon as he had uttered them.

Mustang’s jaw tensed, and he knelt down next to the Lieutenant as she extended her wrist towards him. He was quiet for a moment as his fingers worked over the catchments. “And I thought you had been told before that I won’t have any backtalking when we have a job to do. We ordered you here because you are beholden to, and I will use any advantage in my arsenal to ensure this operation goes smoothly. If you do not follow my orders tonight, you will be court-martialled Fullmetal.” His hands dropped from the Lieutenant’s wrist and he looked squarely at Edward, eyes hard. “Do I make myself clear?”

Edward sunk further into the couch. “Yes sir,” he mumbled.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that-”

“Yes, sir,” he said louder, irritation as clear as a bell. Mustang’s eyebrow lifted slightly, before he sighed.

“Lieutenant, I can trust you to get Fullmetal ready?”

Hawkeye nodded shortly, watching as the Colonel strode away towards where Havoc was preparing some handguns, hands shoved deeply into his pocket. “I wouldn’t try my luck if I were you,” she admonished, standing up and dusting off her knees. “There’s a lot riding on tonight.”

“But-”

Hawkeye shook her head, signalling him to follow her. “We’ll be back in a moment, Alphonse,” she said, opening the door and waiting for Edward to pass through.

He kept quiet as he followed her down the hallway. It was…strange seeing her out of her uniform, truth be told. The idea of her having a life that existed outside of the military – one that didn’t revolve around tailing Mustang – still seemed like a foreign concept, like those old adventure movies with the fantastical creatures that he and Al would watch when Mr Smith brought his projection box to Resembool.

The Lieutenant stopped before a door, and unlocked it, glancing down the hallway as she did so. Inside was what Edward could only describe as a costume closet and he found himself wedged between boxes marked ‘shoes’ and a rack of black suits. Hawkeye ran her hand over the selection, her tongue poking out as she peered at tags. “I guess you could always do some alterations if the pants don’t fit well,” she said, selecting one of the coat hangers and holding it at length. She passed the suit to Edward before stretching up onto the balls of her feet – as her arms lifted to pull back a box on the highest shelving level, he noticed the shoes she was wearing. The dark fabric of her dress had hidden them before but now, even in the dusty yellow light of the supply-closet-cum-undercover-outfit-storage, the diamond embellishing covering the nude satin of the heel glinted and sparkled.

“The Colonel really goes all-out for this stuff, doesn’t he?”

Hawkeye nodded as she rifled through the box. “It takes a bit of time – I spent most of the afternoon with him sewing all these diamonds on – but we’re mingling with the highest that society has to offer in Central and they’re very good at sniffing out those who don’t belong.”

Edward frowned. “Why not use alchemy? I do it with my coat all the time.”

Hawkeye laughed – a proper one, that caused her lips to stretch widely across her face. “The Colonel is very talented when it comes to alchemy, but we agreed it would be easier to simply do it by hand, rather than risk ruining the dress if he calculated a part of the transmutation incorrectly.” She handed him a tie – a deep burgundy one with flecks of gold thread woven in the silk – and pushed the box back into its place.

He adjusted the suit and tie in his arms as she shifted next to him, peering into one of the boxes labelled ‘shoes’. “I didn’t realise the Colonel could sew.”

“How did you think he managed with his gloves otherwise? I taught him the basic skills when we were younger-” she abruptly paused, hands hovering over another box before she sighed. “It goes without saying, Edward,” the Lieutenant said quietly, voice barely carrying over the hum of the heating pipes overhead, “but in the same way that we carry you and your brother’s secret – you will carry ours as well. Is that understood?”

Edward nodded quickly. There was no mistaking the ‘we’ – both on the level of the inner team themselves, undoubtedly entertaining his brother with jokes while they waited for the two of them to return; but also, the deeper meaning. It wasn’t hard to catch wind of the rumours, not certainly when he was still seen by most of Eastern Command to be something of an oddity and not truly considered part of the Colonel’s men. The most salacious ones were whispered in the mess hall with an air of incredulity and exaggeration – but there were little comments thrown his way, ones that he sometimes didn’t understand and sometimes wished he didn’t. He might’ve only been fourteen, but Edward wasn’t that unobservant.

The two of them reminded him a bit of binary stars – the theorised phenomena where the gravitational push of each affected the other in a constant, ever-shifting dance. It was easy enough to argue that was simply a result of the Lieutenant’s skill as a bodyguard, but even in the environment of his office, where danger was supposedly at its lowest, the two of them still shifted and adjusted, seemingly unaware of their actions. A shared history made a lot of sense, he supposed, accepting the shoes she passed him, still deep in thought. But it also raised questions of just how long they had known one another, and he had remembered the Colonel making a comment about the trials of trying to flirt with girls when he was a teenager and learning alchemy at the same time –

Yes, perhaps there were secrets better left untouched. Mustang’s alchemy was legendary with good reason, and men had killed for less.

He blinked rapidly as Hawkeye rested her hand on his shoulder, head cocked to the side in concern. “Are you okay?”

Edward nodded. “Yeah. Where do you want me to get dressed?” He followed her out of the small closet and waited as she locked the door.

“There’s a bathroom just around the corner. Come back to the office when you’re done.”

He shuffled into the office twenty minutes later, the tips of his ears burning with shame. The pants had been fine – one quick transmutation later and the fabric no longer bunched embarrassingly at his ankles. But the tie – the bloody tie! It wasn’t something he had ever learned how to do – there were no fancy school uniforms when he and Al were kids, and even if he did wear a military uniform, the need was only if you were a cadet. The fabric was crumpled tightly in his automail hand as he shut the door as quietly as he could manage, not wanting to attract any attention towards himself, but it was too late: as if on cue, everyone in the office turned their heads towards him expectantly.

Second Lieutenant Havoc grinned at him brightly from where he sat, his hands full of ammunition clips. “Looking good Chief!”

Mustang looked up from the desk he sat at. “Havoc’s right – you don’t scrub up too badly at all, Fullmetal. But where’s the tie?”

Edward sullenly held up the offending fabric. “I’ve never had to do one of these before.”

A small smile pulled at the older man’s lips – one that Edward was surprised to recognise not as unkind, but sympathetic. “Lieutenant, can you-”

“You know how to tie a tie better than I do, sir,” Hawkeye answered, in a manner that Edward felt was a bit more pointed than it necessarily needed to be, not looking up from a clipboard Sergeant Fuery had given her. “And I daresay you know more than just the Windsor knot.”

Mustang nodded, chastened. He beckoned Edward over, pushing himself away from the desk, which he realised was covered in blueprints and diagrams as he neared. Exits had been circled in thick red marker, with the Colonel’s familiar handwriting spread across the paper, scratched out furiously in places.

“I couldn’t do my own tie for the longest time either,” Mustang told him, flicking up the collar of his shirt and smoothing down the fabric of the tie to lie flush to his shoulders. Edward shifted awkwardly at the contact but said nothing. “My mother had to tie them all for me and then I just loosened them enough to get them over my head. But it’s bad form for the fabric to be twisted continuously.” His hands were sure and methodical as he worked the fabric. “Let me know if it’s too tight for you – can’t have you fainting in the middle of all this.”

“I thought a black tie dress code meant a black tie.”

Mustang nodded. “True. But you’re a child, and children are allowed to break the stupid rules that adults make up. It’s also so my men can identify you quickly in case of emergency.”

Edward snorted. “Would’ve thought you’d be basing that on my height-”

The knot was pulled up against his throat firmly, but not uncomfortably as Mustang drew back to admire his handiwork. “No, that would be unprofessional, Fullmetal, and I don’t have time for mucking around tonight.” He smoothed the collar back down and dusted the tops of his shoulders quickly. “And now you’re all set. We’re moving out in ten, so keep close by.” He tossed some white gloves his way, and Edward caught them easily.

“What’s wrong with my gloves?”

Mustang gave him a sceptical look, sitting back down. “Mine aren’t stained with oil.”

Jerk. Edward turned on his heel, and walked to where Al was perched, hilariously oversized on a chair that somebody had brought him. He rested his bare hand on his brother’s head, absorbing in the cool steel. “You’ll be okay without me?”

Alphonse nodded energetically, armour clinking. “Yeah! Mr Fuery is going to be in the building over handling all the communication, so I’ll be hanging out with him. It won’t be as fun as what you’re doing though.”

Edward laughed, rubbing the helmet. “At least you’ll be safe if things go sideways tonight.”

Alphonse scoffed. “If you’re going to be there, something is going to go wrong, brother.”

He flicked the top of Alphonse’s head, wincing as pain bloomed briefly across his finger. “I don’t think the Colonel has left any space in the plan for me to muck up. Anyway, you should have more faith in me! I’ve been in plenty of situations where things could’ve gone badly but didn’t.”

“Only because things were already bad enough by the time you came onto the scene,” Alphonse muttered.

Edward opened his mouth to protest but was interrupted by the door to the office opening once more.

“ROY!”

“Hughes,” Mustang replied in a bored fashion, standing up. “Everybody’s ready on your end?”

Hughes nodded, winking at the boys as he crossed the room. “We’re good to go on your order. Team Arthur and Bruno are already in position.” He turned to Hawkeye and placed a hand dramatically over his heart.

“First Lieutenant, I’m sure Roy has already told you numerous times how wonderful you look tonight, but truly, you will outshine every guest there.”

Hawkeye tucked some hair behind her ear. “I hope you don’t mean that literally, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes. The plan rides on our ability to identify our target.”

He held up his hands in defeat. “Right, right, we have a job to do, and there’s no time for dad jokes – by the way, have you seen the latest-”

“Later, Hughes.”

The subsequent briefing had been quick and to-the-point: they couldn’t arrest Bobby until after lot number two-hundred and fifty-two, and the little radio headsets that Fuery had kitted them out with would only work within a certain range in the building – if they strayed too far from the main floor they’d run the risk of losing the signal and his team would be unable to forewarn them of any issues. The earpiece felt uncomfortable in his ear but there was no point – nor time – to complain. Within minutes he was being escorted into a flash-looking car and sitting opposite the Colonel and Lieutenant.

“I still don’t understand why you needed me on this mission.”

“Bobby has a thing for blonds,” Mustang replied darkly after a beat and Hawkeye sent him a furious look.

“We weren’t going to tell him-”        

“He’s going to find out anyway Lieutenant-”

Edward frowned. “I don’t get it. Lieutenant Hawkeye is blonde, so-” Realisation dawned on him and he felt the contents of his lunch churn dangerously in his stomach. “I see.”

Hawkeye was staring daggers at her superior officer, who in turn was watching the city lights flicker by as they made their way down West Avenue. “It is insulting that you don’t think me capable, sir.” The title was thrown out bitterly, and Edward shrank back into his seat as best he could. This was a conversation he had no wish to be involved with.

“You’re more capable than any other person in the military, dear,” the Colonel answered finally, as the car slowed down in front of the glittering Heritage Hotel, “but we have a job to do and I need my wife-” he stressed the word as Havoc opened the door for him, “to be supporting me as best I can tonight.”

The Lieutenant stared at him, stony-faced as he offered her a gloved hand. “Of course, sweetheart,” she responded, a practiced smile forming on her face. “Come along, son,” she said to Edward as she accepted Mustang’s hand. “We have an auction to attend.”

Two hours into the evening and Edward was near ready to tear his hair out in frustration: auctions were the most boring thing he had ever attended in his life, and he had been subjected to some frankly inane military ceremonies before. Lieutenant Hawkeye stood out in the crowd in her bejewelled dress, but not by far – Edward was sure he had seen the entire wealth of his hometown on many a neck tonight. The numbers being tossed towards the auctioneer were absurd too – but he had long given up on his game of calculating just how much money was being transferred, instead busying himself with arranging his string beans by various qualities; first by length, then by shade, then –

“Bobby en route.” Fuery’s voice crackled in his ear and Edward felt himself stiffen despite the fact that he needed to appear as uncaring as possible. The Lieutenant had sat up straighter as well, though she masked it well by leaning to whisper something in the Colonel’s ear, who smiled after a few moments. The two of them seemed completely at ease in the roles of new money banker and ditzy socialite wife – it didn’t quite make sense to Edward why nobody was questioning his presence there: he hadn’t seen anyone near his age and he’d spent a good portion of the night people-watching from the second floor while his superiors blended in with the dancing couples below. He had noticed Bobby skulking at the edges of the dancefloor and had made a mental note to keep his distance while he wasn’t within shouting distance of either of his ‘parents’. Alphonse was right: he did have a unlucky habit of trouble finding him, and the fight that he had witnessed in the drive over put to rest any ideas of sorting the problem by himself. Trouble was sure to find him tonight, in the form of a man who boring name belied the monster within, and Edward was more than happy to delay the inevitable for as long as he could manage.

Bobby Carlsberg was a thin man with thinning hair and an even thinner moustache that only served to make the man look as sketchy as his report indicted him to be. There was an oily, slippery aspect to him too: and when he spoke Edward felt the revulsion slide down his spine unpleasantly.

“I must say sir, I have been admiring your wife all night and I’ve only just gathered up the courage to come say that.”

Everything about the man screamed sleaze and dishonesty – Edward shifted in his chair, adjusting the way he rested his head on the back of the chair so Bobby would be obscured by his fringe. The less he had to see him, the better.

Hawkeye’s laugh was airy and almost as disturbing as the man who stood before them. The auctioneer droned on in the background – some dusty old vase depicting a field of wheat was being frantically bid between two old men who looked to both have one foot in the grave already.

“You’re far too kind sir! Victor told me I had been turning heads, but I was terrified it was for the wrong reasons!”

Oh. That was why the dress had been sewn with what looked like a million diamonds – it wasn’t as a method of blending in with the society here – but to be seen, even amongst a dense crowd. For him to be seen.

“Nonsense! Your husband has an excellent eye for the latest fashion. Bobby extended his hand, and ‘Victor’ rose to shake it, a charming smile on his face. “You’re a very lucky man. The name is Bobby Carlsberg.”

“Victor Phillips. And yes, I am lucky. More than I will ever know,” Mustang said proudly, glancing back at his ‘wife’, his eyes passing over Edward as he did so. A warning. He sat up a little straighter and fiddled with his beans.

“Can I ask what interests you in this auction tonight, Victor?”

Mustang signalled a server to being them another chair and placed an order for some whiskey. “Well,” he began, casting the most obvious furtive look Edward had ever seen before leaning in closer to Bobby. “There have been a lot of very interesting auctions, but one has really caught my eye. Do you know about number two-hundred and fifty-two? I hear there’s a surprise included by request of the seller. I have a hunch I know what it is, but I’m dying to find out.”

Bobby’s eyebrows shot up. “A surprise?” His gaze slid to Edward, who grinned as toothily as he could manage before shoving all thirty-two string beans into his mouth.

“Alexander!” Hawkeye’s voice was playful as she leaned over the table to bat at his arm, but there was an undercurrent of sharpness woven into his ‘name’. “Don’t make me send you back to etiquette class.”

Victor laughed loudly. “Ah, boys will be boys, my fair-faced friend! As soon as a girl as pretty as you comes along he’ll change his tune.”

“Nobody will ever compare to my sweet Violet,” Mustang replied, his eyes glittering as he took the Lieutenant’s hand and kissed the ring on her finger. She smiled benevolently, before rising from her seat and leaning close to kiss the Colonel on his cheek.

“You’re too kind, sweetheart,” she said softly, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. “But I must dash for a moment.”

They watched her leave, and Roy waited until she had passed through the ornate stained-glass doors before leaning in conspiratorially. “I have an inking the surprise in two-hundred and fifty-two might kick my wife down to second place.” It was incredible how well Roy could change the tone of his voice to mimic that of Bobby’s. The other man’s eyes were wide, glancing quickly between him and Edward.

“Do you mean-”

Mustang tapped the side of his nose, smirking. “I thought you might be a kindred spirit because you were one of the few who hasn’t bid on anything yet. I fear I’m not well-versed in the language here in Central but-”

“Not to worry my good man,” Bobby responded easily, his body relaxing as he accepted the whiskies from the server, passing one to Mustang with a lecherous grin. “We’re a little more refined than other places but I assure you the sights are even more pleasant than you could possibly imagine.”

It took everything in Edward’s willpower not to vomit his dinner as auction number two-hundred and fifty-two took to the stage. It was a necklace – even more ornate than the one the Lieutenant was wearing. Hawkeye flipped through her programme and gasped audibly as the auction house employs set up on stage.

“Oh – ! Victor! You must get that necklace for me. Bethany will go positively green with envy at Monica’s garden party next month!”

Mustang and Bobby shared a knowing smile. “Of course dear. But our good friend Bobby here also wishes to buy the necklace for his wife. We may be out of our depth, love.”

‘Violet’ pouted. “I guess we’ll have to see,” she said, disappointed. Her hands rested in her lap, fiddling with her fingernails. The tension was palpable as the auctioneer stood behind the podium and cleared his throat.

“Tonight, our last piece up for auction is the priceless Louiban set – a dazzling necklace that can be taken apart to make three more stunning necklaces. Ladies, this is a piece that only comes up for auction every blue moon, and it’s unlikely to be sold again for another sixty years. Can I get the bidding started at thirty million cenz?”

Edward choked on the water he was drinking, and the Lieutenant shot him a sharp look. Her entire posture had changed in a single moment; no longer was she a vapid socialite, but the woman he knew as the ‘Hawk’s Eye’ – and with good reason too. Other servers had slowly put down their trays – Team Arthur and Bruno were preparing too for what had every possibility of becoming a bloodbath.

A literal one.

Bobby looked back at Edward, before winking deliberately and he raised his hand. “Sixty million!” he called out in his oily voice.

What happened next was utter chaos.

The Lieutenant leapt across the table to pin Bobby down; Edward felt his chair being pulled back violently by some unknown force and then a pair of strong hands grab onto his upper arms. Shots rang out and they echoed loudly in the ballroom; there was a second of silence while everyone looked for the source of the original commotion, and then screams erupted as the high society of Central began to scramble for their nearest exit. Edward briefly caught sight of the Lieutenant wrestling with Bobby on the ground, a gun flung out of her reach while Mustang was dealing with his own mystery assailant.

Edward realised very quickly that the person dragging him away was not from Team Arthur or Bruno – and he roared as he clapped his hands together before slamming his palm onto this automail forearm as best he could manage. The scream behind him told him his aim had been true, and he fought off off the other arm that went to wrap around his neck.

He didn’t recognise the man who fell back to the ground, clutching at his shoulder that was bleeding profusely, but decided that it wouldn’t be a good idea to let him escape. The sound of his automail arm shattering the man’s jaw was immensely satisfying. Dimly, he could hear Fuery’s voice yelling frantically in his ear about something –

More shots rang out across the ballroom and Edward whipped his head to the front of the stage, breaking into a run. The crowd was thinning now, and he could see Mustang running towards the front of the ballroom too. It was probably only a matter of seconds before he caught sight of Hawkeye, standing over the twitching figure of Bobby Carlsberg with a gun firmly aimed at his head. Her dress had ripped: a thousand diamond crystals were scattered around the two of them, sparkling in the growing pool of blood despite the wound Bobby was desperately trying to staunch.

“Get the medics here, sir,” she said firmly, shrugging off the hand that tried to lower her gun. “We’re not risking him dying out on this floor so his operation keeps going.”

Mustang sighed and nodded, turning towards one of the approaching undercover servers. He looked pale – almost as pale as Bobby, who was busy swearing black and blue that he’d get her for this, the cocksucker –

Edward stood next to her, and she shook her head, gaze and gun still firmly aimed at Bobby. “You don’t need to see this,” she told him firmly. “Havoc and Breda will be here in a moment to escort you out-”

“But-”

“That is an order, Fullmetal,” she said tightly. “Go.”

A warm hand clapped on his back. “We’ll be alright here Edward,” Roy’s voice came from his right, his hand steering him away from the situation before him. “Simon here is going to deliver you to where Sergeant Fuery is. He’ll bring you back to Headquarters after you’ve been checked over.”

“The Lieutenant-”

“She’ll be fine.” The Colonel’s tone was worryingly hesitant. “We’ll see you back for the debriefing soon.”

Said debriefing took a lot longer than the briefing had: Edward was sure he had started to doze off towards the end as leaders from Team Arthur and Bruno recounted their version of events for the record. As far as he could tell, the operation had gone as smoothly as could be expected: Bobby, most importantly, had been captured alive, and so had a number of his associates. The child who was to be sold off had also been successfully located in a separate sting that happened elsewhere at the same time.

Edward recounted his own version of events quickly: “Some guy tried to pull me away but I stabbed him and then punched him to make sure he didn’t run off.” Hughes sat next to him on the couch, writing away furiously in a notebook. After what felt like hours, he closed it and stretched his hand.

“The rest can happen tomorrow. The details are all accounted for,” he told Mustang. “Your job is done, and Central Headquarters thanks you for your service.”

Mustang nodded and waved his hand in a dismissive fashion. “Everybody get some rest tonight,” he called out as they began to shuffle out of the office. Edward blearily opened his eyes – when had he shut them? – and spied the Lieutenant sitting opposite him, curled up with a dinner jacket resting loosely on her shoulders.

“You did some quick thinking tonight,” she told him, pride evident in her voice. “I’m sorry it came to that.”

Edward shrugged. “We caught the bad guy,” he said simply.

“Hardly a good reason,” Hawkeye replied, standing up and stretching her arms above her head. He could see the need for the jacket now – in the fight with Bobby, a whole section of the dress had torn down the side. Diamonds were hanging on by mere threads, and Edward quickly ducked his head when he realised he could see the skin stretching over her ribcage, already marred with dark purple bruises. She nodded at Hughes, before wrapping the jacket tighter around herself, and slipped into Mustang’s office.

Edward let himself doze once more and was dimly aware of a blanket being draped over him.

Later, he woke to the smell of takeaways and low chatter and got himself a plate, sitting next to his brother and hearing his versions of events. From what he gathered, it had been very boring with Sergeant Fuery for Alphonse; it was only within the last five minutes before all hell broke loose that he could pick up on anything exciting.

However, there had been a friendly stray in the alleyway behind their building and so Alphonse had spent most of his time playing games with the cat and talking to the soldiers positioned there. Edward let himself drift off while Alphonse continued to talk, watching the remaining soldiers talk in low tones to each other over heaping piles of chips and fried rice. It struck him as strange that he hadn’t seen neither the Colonel or the Lieutenant since the food had arrived – glancing towards the door that led to the inner office, Edward made up his mind to let them know, if nobody else was going to. Almost everyone had gone home by this stage; the outer office was nearly empty as he walked towards the door that was left slightly ajar.

In hindsight, that should’ve been his first warning.

His hand was raised ready to knock as he pushed on the door – the heavy wood gave way under the pressure of his hand slowly, and Edward paused as he took in the scene before him.

The light was low in the office, as the two of them sat on top of the desk, looking out over the parade grounds. Hawkeye had discarded the jacket – which Edward realised was Mustang’s dinner jacket and was resting her head on his shoulder. In the dim light, he could almost make out their hands intertwined as they spoke to one another in low tones.

It was hard to look away, and even harder when Mustang turned and pressed a soft kiss onto her bare shoulder.

A hand reached out from behind Edward and pulled back the oak door. He twisted jerkily, so tired at this point he didn’t have the energy to cry out in surprise.

Hughes raised his eyebrows deliberately as he shut the door with a definitive click. “Not now, kid,” he said quietly, guiding Edward back towards where the remaining men were, dealing out cards and promising to go easy on Alphonse. “That’s a story for another time.”

[cannonalise92]

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