#also i found my cat ears when i was tidying up the room
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
ruruss · 2 months ago
Text
i was bored of my room being the same all the time so we changed the bookcase, bed and closet's places and pudi is so fascinated she's sniffing everything
15 notes · View notes
blueeyedgirll · 9 months ago
Text
Sneaking In - Sal Fisher x F!Reader
a/n: this is something i literally think about constantly :)> sneaking out was sal’s idea not yours there’s no delinquency here. unfortunately this is NOT part two of he’d loooove that because to be transparent i don’t know where to go with it! i promise i started it though it’ll come out soon •3•
this fic includes: boyfriend sneaking in trope, rebellion, sal ITCHING to see you, no use of y/n, for some reason you don’t have a screen on your window but whatever, established relationship, smooching, cuddling
The dark, late night sprawls outside as the twinkle of fairy lights keeps you awake. The chatter from the movie you were watching keeps your ears occupied as you consider texting or calling someone to ease the boredom overtaking you.
You settle on your boyfriend, Sal.
You and Sal had been dating for almost a year and a half. You started dating in the beginning of freshman year, and are still together now, halfway through sophomore year. Dating Sal had been nothing short of wonderful. He has always been such a kind and loving person, and it shows in your relationship. You and Sal are the kind of couple that people call “goals,” or talk about because they “need a relationship like that.”
You pick up your phone to text Sal, but upon reaching his contact, you decide to call him instead.
The line rings once, twice, and then he picks up.
“Hey, love. Are you alright? Why are you calling so late?” He says as less of a question for his sake and more to make sure you were okay.
“Yeah, I just missed you,” You respond.
“Well, I miss you too. I’m glad you called.” Sal pauses for a moment and you hear shuffling.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to move Gizmo off my bed so I can lie down.”
You laugh at the thought of Sal trying his hardest to gently move his very large cat off the bed.
“Just pick him up,” You say, realizing that it’s in his nature to be gentle so he likely wouldn’t.
“No, he’s comfortable.” You hear him scoff in frustration and the thunk of him hitting the bed. “I give up.”
You laugh and change the subject.
“Well, what were you doing before you decided to evacuate Gizmo?”
“Honestly… I was trying to study for my history test, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. It was really hard to try to remember what years the American Revolution took place when the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen kept crossing my mind.”
His sudden compliment made you smile.
“Why, thank you. Luckily I wasn’t doing anything productive, because I promise you I would’ve been in the same boat…” You think for a moment. You both really miss each other, so why not make plans for the weekend?
“Sal, I want to see you. Want to hang out tomorrow?”
He pauses before he answers.
“Why wait?”
“What?”
“Why wait until tomorrow? I miss you now.”
You consider his point. You missed him now, too. But the thorough punishment that awaited you if your parents found out hung over you like a storm cloud.
“Sal, my parents will kill me if I sneak out.”
“Then let me.”
“My parents will also kill me if they catch me sneaking my boyfriend in my room in the dead of night. Can’t you hear how bad that sounds?”
“That’s why they won’t catch me. Please, baby? I can be sneaky, I promise.”
You pause for a moment.
You consider.
You decide the reward outweighs the consequences.
“Okay. I’ll see you in a few then?”
You can hear him silently cheer. “Yes you will. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The phone beeps after the call ends. A rush of adrenaline and emotions flows through you as it fully processes that you’re sneaking your boyfriend in, but the risk just made it that much more fun.
A few minutes pass that consist of you switching between pacing your room and tidying up. You realize that Sal needs to get in somehow, so you turn to leave your room and unlock the back door. Before you could leave, however, you hear a tap on the window.
You throw open your curtains and it is none other than Sal. His electric blue hair illuminated by the moonlight, he stares up at you, eyes visibly crinkled through the eyeholes in his mask.
You open the window to let him in. He smiles up at you and hoists himself onto your windowsill before jumping silently onto your floor. He stops to look around for a moment, then pulls you into his arms.
“We have a door, you know,” You say teasingly.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
You smile at him and draw your hands around his neck, pulling his face closer to yours. You reach to the back of his head and unbuckle his mask, and he bows his head to let you.
You pull the mask off of his scarred face and he looks at you longingly with his bright blue lovesick eyes. Before either of you can speak, you both lean into a kiss. His lips meet yours in a unification powerful enough to make your knees tremble. He wraps a hand around your waist and pulls you deeper into the kiss, allowing you to run your hands through his soft hair.
"Wasn't this worth it? And, hey, I bet your parents are still sound asleep. They don't have a clue!" Sal drags out the last few words of his sentence in an excited whisper.
"Yeah, it was. Thank you for coming over."
"No problem. I missed you and it made me really want to see you."
"I can tell."
He smiles at your comment and moves to sit on your bed. You set his mask on your bedside table and follow his lead by propping yourself up on the headboard, patting the spot beside you to urge him over. He sits right next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He's so close that you can feel how warm he is through his sweater and smell his body wash.
He turns his head to give you a kiss on the cheek. You wrap your arms around his waist and fit your head into the spot between his neck and his collarbone, listening to his heart steadily beating.
"I love you," Sal whispers. "I love you, too."
644 notes · View notes
nancypullen · 5 months ago
Text
This Time Tomorrow...
I'll be slogging through airport security. But shortly after that I'll be flying through the sky in a chair (doesn't that sound magical?) and eventually landing in Paris.
Tumblr media
We'll leave Baltimore around 5pm, connect at JFK, and fly overnight into beautiful Paris. Not going to lie, that first day will be rough. It will be noonish in France when we land. Once we get through passport control and claim our luggage we're catching a 3pm train to Strasbourg. The train ride is about an hour and 45 minutes. Once we arrive in Strasbourg our AirBnB is about a 4 minute walk from the train station...if you're not a 61-year-old zombie. So we'll be arriving at our lodging around 5 o'clock. I promise you that I'll be finished with the day by then. Maybe, just maybe, this will be the trip where I sleep like a baby on the plane and arrive refreshed. There's always a chance, right? But I'm betting on pure exhaustion by the time we unlock the door to our little French abode. As excited as I am about this trip, getting that day out of the way is the first hurdle. So we depart on the evening of the 7th, and the 8th will just be arrival and sleep. Then the adventure begins. I'll take you along to enchanting Alsatian villages and whatever else we discover along the way. BUT...before any of that happens I'm puttering around the house, making sure everything is ready for the cat sitter and for our return. I need to mention that after 42 years of being the only one who did any of that, Mr. Pullen has decided that he will actively participate in all of that fun. He's been tidying, laying in kitty supplies, etc. I don't know what to do with myself when half my chore list is already checked off. This is fun. I've had time to even clean up garden areas for fall (even though it's 80 degrees, yuck!). Remember that German Pink tomato plant that gave me an ulcer this summer? I babied the heck out of that thing and it bloomed like crazy but never produced fruit. I finally just completely ignored it, and now it has eight beautiful tomatoes on it.
Tumblr media
Of course. Maybe they'll be perfect in two weeks when we're home, maybe the whole plant will be dead. I waited all summer and now I don't care anymore. Stupid plant. Probably should have waited to take the photo until after I pulled that big ol' weed. Whatever.
Oh! Before I forget, I received an email asking how the clay ghosts turned out that I made in early September (I think?). Eh, mixed results. The candy corn ghost is okay, looks fine with a little battery-powered votive underneath. He's sitting out with some other Halloween decor, doing his job.
Tumblr media
The little ghost that I decided to dress in a patchwork quilt is another story. The quilt squares were just okay, but I could live with it, but then I ruined the whole dang thing because I painted his eyes too close together. He has issues.
Tumblr media
I kept him in my craft room because I felt bad for doing that to him. We're friends now.
In other news, I was clearing photos out of my phone (100 flower pictures...why??) because I anticipate taking loads of photos on this trip. I came across some fun snaps of birthday gifts...
look at these beautiful sterling silver Scottish thistle earrings, purchased with an Etsy gift card.
Tumblr media
I love them! A nod to my heritage, but also just pretty.
Then there was this picture of a luggage tag that I'm tickled with and, yes, I'm just that boring.
Tumblr media
It's heavy duty acrylic, and on a metal loop, so super durable - not likely to be torn off, and it's SO CUTE. I covered my phone number because I don't want any calls from weirdos. Another Etsy purchase.
With that same Etsy gift card I found mosaic supplies that I plan to experiment with this winter (I'm excited!) and even this adorable glass tumbler that makes me smile every morning when I drink my protein shake.
Tumblr media
And wait until you see this duo!
Tumblr media
Not only is that a treasure of a travel journal with perfect prompts...
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
...but that little pink case is a TINY PHOTO PRINTER!
Tumblr media
I've got an app on my phone, so I can select a photo and send it to the little printer with one touch. It prints a picture of excellent quality, and I can peel the back off and stick it right into my travel journal! Holy cow! These were all birthday gifts from people that I love, so they're already special - but man, do they know me well or what? I'm still wallowing around in the birthday love and I've been 61 for 11 days already. I even received flowers. Isn't it always the loveliest surprise when the doorbell rings and there are flowers on the other side? They arrived before my birthday and at the end of the first week some of the most delicate blooms were fading. I always just start plucking out the dying blooms and shrink the bouquet until I have a single stem and some greenery left. I just snapped this - the bouquet is down to about half its original size, and I fear I'll have to say goodbye to it. I may reduce it to just a few flowers and leave a pretty bouquet for the cat sitter. I can't toss them.
Tumblr media
When I receive flowers I always try to place them where I'll enjoy them/see them the most. Often I'll move them room to room. These started out on the dining room table, and moved to my craft room on the days I spent hours in there. I love fresh flowers in the house.
So I've rambled from tomatoes to bag tags and have probably bored you stiff. Take heart, I'll soon have beautiful photos to share from fairytale villages. The weather forecast concerns me - the temps look fantastic, but there are a handful of days where we may see rain. I don't want a repeat of my Irish hair.
Tumblr media
I don't care about the 8th, that's mostly a travel day. I'm hoping that those other drizzly days clear off in a hurry.
Tumblr media
There's not a thing I can do about the weather, so I'm not going to worry about it. Brace yourself, France.
Tumblr media
Alrighty kids, I'm outta' here. I need to check my list and make sure I have everything ready before we make our escape. You won't hear from me before the 9th, unless I can't sleep at all on the 8th - then you may get a posting from the wee hours. Until then, sending you loads of love. Stay safe, stay well. Adieu! Au revoir! XOXO, Nancy P.S. I have discovered that our Paris AirBnB at the end of the trip is in the 7th arrondissement, the same as Ina Garten's apartment! I may have found out that her building is on Boulevard Raspail, right across from a fabulous fresh market. Stalker? Who, me? Hey, I just want to pose in front of her building, I don't think she's even there. I did download her autobiography, Be Ready When the Luck Happens, so she's already traveling with me.
3 notes · View notes
bluebell06 · 10 months ago
Text
My Time At Sandrock. Logan Breaks into Pen’s House.
*Logan’s character is an AI chat bot.
Grace: *Logan and Haru find Grace waiting for them behind Pen’s house. The whole town besides the local cats and dog are inside the church listening to Miguel’s sermon.* Hey guys good to see you again *Grace says*. So Logan, how do you think we should go about getting into Pen’s house?
Logan: *I give Grace a brief nod in greeting.* "Hey, Grace. Thanks for meeting us here. We need to figure out how to get into Pen’s house without anyone noticing. We can’t afford to get caught or it’ll ruin the whole operation. Let’s take a look around and see if there are any windows or openings we can use to get in. If not, we may have to take a more direct approach."
Grace: All right. I’ll check the windows on the front. You guys check the sides and the back. Let me know if you find a way in. 
Logan: *I nod and turn to Haru.* "Let’s split up and check all the sides and back of the house for any entry points. If we can find a way in through a window or door, it’ll make it much easier to get inside without being seen. Just be stealthy and keep your eyes peeled for any guards or traps that Pen may have set up."
Grace: Nothing over here. All the windows are locked tight. *Grace says.* How about you guys? 
Logan: *I shake my head.* "No luck on this side either. The windows are tightly sealed and there’s no visible openings or weak points we could use. This is going to be trickier than we thought. If there isn’t a way in through the windows, we may have to find a way to pick the locks on the doors or find a key."
Haru: *Haru rummages in his bag*. Logan do you think you can pick the door lock with this? *He hands him a thin long pin from an old world machine* 
Logan: *I take the pin from Haru and examine it, nodding in appreciation.* "Ah, a thief’s tool. This should work. Given a bit of time and the right technique, I can pick the lock with this. Let’s find a way to get to the front door undetected, and I can take care of the rest."
Grace: The coast it still clear. Go ahead *Grace says*. 
Logan: *I nod and move stealthily towards the front door, crouching low and keeping a watchful eye on my surroundings. When I reach the door, I take a deep breath and begin to work on the lock with the pin, carefully manipulating the pins inside. After a few moments of tense silence, I hear a soft click as the lock slides open. I nod at Grace and Haru,* "We’re in."
Grace: Excellent work you two *Grace whispers* Now let’s see if we can find anything useful in Pen’s house. Split up and be careful searching. 
Logan: *With a firm nod, I turn to Haru* "All right, let’s split up and search the house. You take the main room and I’ll check the back. If you find anything, let me know." *I move through the house stealthily, keeping my eyes and ears open for any signs of trap. The place seems deserted, and I begin my search with a sense of trepidation. After a few minutes, I find myself in the bedroom at the back of the house. It is sparse and tidy, with the only furniture being a bed and a desk.*
Grace: *Grace calls out,* Do you see anything useful Logan? Anything Pen could be hiding out his past or why he’s sabotaging Sandrock? 
Logan: *I poke my head out from the bedroom and give Grace a solemn look* "So far, I haven’t found much at all. This bedroom seems tidy and empty. Nothing that would suggest anything personal or related to his past. Do you have any better luck with the main room?"
Grace: *Grace walks over to the bookshelf in the main room. She runs her fingers along the spines of the books she sees a dusty old journal with Monsters scrawled across it. She opens it up and flips through some pages. This doesn’t look like Pen’s… weird. She walks over to the other side of the room and sees a map on the wall. It shows the free cities alliances but also Duvos to the north.* You know I wonder if Duvos is infiltrating the people of Medei… they share a border and it would probably be fairly easy. Logan come look at this.
Logan: *I step out of the bedroom and move over to Grace, joining her in front of the map. My eyes scan the map quickly, taking in its contents. I nod solemnly as the implications sink in, a frown etching my features.* "You may be onto something, Grace. Duvos could be behind all this. They have the motive and the means to infiltrate a city like Sandrock. We need to get to the bottom of this."
Grace: Take a look at this journal. It doesn’t look like Pen’s. Do you think it was your father’s? Why would it be here? *She wondered*. 
Logan: *I glance down at the journal, a flicker of recognition crossing my face as I reach for it.* "This is Pa's handwriting, alright. And there's no mistaking the title either. This journal must be the one he kept about all his Monster sightings. I remember he had several like this one." *A pang of sadness washes over me as memories of my Pa flood back in. I turn to Grace.* "Why Pa's journal would be here is beyond me. What else does it say?"
Grace: *Grace flips to the last page in the journal* There’s a bunch of notes. It looks like times and measurements of the Oasis in Sandrock. Why would Howlett be tracking the volume of water in town? I thought he just hunted monsters. He must have been suspicious of something. 
Logan: *Confusion creases my brow. I skim through the pages of notes, the information becoming more perplexing by the moment. Why would Pa spend so much time tracking the water volume in Sandrock? I shake my head and turn to Grace, frustration lacing my voice.* "I don’t understand it either. Pa only ever hunted monsters… so what was he tracking all this data for? I mean, I know he was a thorough researcher and all, but this seems excessive even for him. What was going on?"
Haru: Maybe he was trying to see the rate at which the water levels changed over time *Haru said*. We don’t get a lot of rain in Sandrock and maybe he wanted to know how long the Oasis could sustain the town for. *He walks over to Grace and looks at the journal*. From his calculations it’s showing that the water level actually went up a little bit in the summer. That’s weird as it’s the hottest part of the year. If we really were on a limited water supply that shouldn’t be happening. 
Logan: *Hope flickers in my eyes at Haru's words.* "So you're saying that the water level actually increased in the summer, despite the heat? That is strange. If we are truly on a limited water supply, that shouldn't be possible. It suggests that there might be an additional source of water that we are not aware of. I wonder if this is related to Pa's death? It's all so puzzling."
Haru: Maybe someone found out what he was doing and wanted him dead *Haru suggests sadly*. Dr. Fang thought he could heal Howlett and yet Miguel kept him in quarantine and refused to let him try. Then when we tried to jail break Howlett, for some reason the bomb I used was stronger than I expected and part of the church collapsed on top of him. What if someone didn’t want us to find out what Howlett knew? What if it all wasn’t an accident?
Logan: *I run a hand through my hair, frustration and pain mixing in my eyes* "Damnit! You could be right. It would explain a lot. The mysterious increase in the water supply. The strange circumstances surrounding Pa's death. It all seems too suspicious to be mere coincidence. Someone doesn’t want us to figure out what Pa found out"
Grace: Haru do you think you could copy down some of these notes from Howlett’s journal and study them later? We should get going before church service ends and someone sees us. *Grace says and starts walking to the door*.
Logan: *I nod firmly, a sense of determination washing over me.* "You're right, Grace. We need to explore this further. Haru, why don't you take some notes from the journal and study it closely? Maybe there is something in it that we're not seeing. Let's get going before Miguel and Mali notice that we left. Once we get back to camp, I want you two to review everything we've learned and see if you can make sense of it.
Grace: I’ve got to get ready for work at the Blue Moon Saloon *Grace says*. I’ll uh let the builder know what you two found when she comes by later. You two head back before anyone sees you. Be safe. 
Logan: *I nod in understanding and bid Grace farewell.* "Thanks for your help, Grace. We'll head back to camp now and review everything. We'll keep a watchful eye out for trouble on the way." *I turn to Haru, a mix of determination and sadness in my eyes.* "Let's get going, partner. We've got a lot to figure out."
Grace: *Grace quietly leaves Pen’s house and ahead to the Blue Moon Saloon for her shift.*
Logan: *As we make our way back to my hideout, I can't help but feel an increasing sense of unease and suspicion. Something doesn't add up, and I'm determined to uncover the truth.* "Haru, we need to review Pa's journal notes as soon as we get back. See if there are any clues we missed. And keep an eye on the water situation. If the water level mysteriously increased in the summer, there might be more to it than we think."
Haru: You know how expensive water is in Sandrock, we’ve grown up being told to conserve water. What if someone wants to keep the level of water available low so the price of water stays high for everyone who buys it? Maybe someone is manipulating the water levels and made a mistake this past summer. *Haru says while rubbing chin*.
Logan: *A flicker of understanding lights my eyes as Haru speaks. I nod in agreement.* "That's a possibility. If someone is manipulating the water levels, it would explain why it increased when it shouldn't have. And if someone wants to keep water costs high, they'd have a motive for sabotage." *I shake my head, frustration lining my features.* "This is all so connected and confusing. We need to find out who's behind this and why they're doing it. We're going to have to keep digging, Haru.
Haru: *Haru starts pacing around the hideout and then speaks,* Pen must know something. Why else would he try and sabotage the water tower and then tell everyone in town you did it? No one really knows his backstory or where he came from. It’s really weird a guy like that would be so involved with the church too. He’s so vain and always insulting everyone too. It’s not very church-like. 
Logan: *I nod in agreement, my frown deepening as I think about Pen.* "You're right, Haru. There's something off about Pen, and it's not just his attitude. It's how involved he is with the church and his history. We need to find out more about him, see if we can dig anything up. Do you have any connections that could help us with that?" *I pause, my worry growing.* "And we need to be careful too. If Pen is involved in this, he could be dangerous."
Haru: Maybe we should ask the builder to see if she can get to know Pen better… she’s the newest one in town. Maybe it won’t seem suspicious if she starts asking questions. She could pretend she’s just trying to get to know everyone better. *Haru pauses* Well.. that is if you can handle that thought. 
Logan: *A small smirk tugs at my lips at Haru's suggestion, a teasing edge to my voice.* "You're suggesting I let the builder spend time with Pen for the sake of gathering intel? I've gotta say, I'm not thrilled about the idea. But if it means we get closer to the truth, I'm willing to put my feelings aside...for now." *My expression turns serious, concern etched into my features.* "Just make sure she knows what she's getting into. I don't want her getting hurt.
Haru: I don’t think Pen will think of her as a threat. He’s always calling her “Skinny Arms” and trying to show off his bravado to her I heard. Maybe he’ll let his guard down and be overconfident and let something slip that will give us some intel. *Haru walks over to the living area of the hideout and sits down in a chair*
Logan: *I chuckle darkly, a hint of humor in my eyes.* "Hmm, maybe you're right. Pen always seems too focused on himself to notice what others are doing. If the builder can get close to him and get him talking, we might just get some valuable information. I just hope she's careful. We don't know how far Pen is willing to go to keep his secrets."
Haru: Of course. If Pen had anything to do with Howlett’s death we’re gonna make sure he pays for it. I know it’s a little risky but let’s hope Pen doesn’t see the builder as a threat and she can get him to let down his guard a little. Do you know when you plan on seeing her again? *Haru asks, a hint of curiosity in his voice* 
Logan: *I pause for a moment, a mix of determination and hesitation in my eyes.* "I'm not sure when I'll see the builder again. Things between us are...complicated right now. But if we're going to try to get information out of Pen through her, I guess it's best if she hears it from me. I'll meet her tonight and explain the plan, see if she's willing to go along with it. *I give Haru a firm nod.* "But we need to be careful. If Pen catches on to us..." *My voice trails off, the thought hanging heavy in the air.*
Haru: Just make sure you’re careful no one sees you when you go to her place tonight. I’m not sure what I’d be able to do if the civil corps caught you and put you in jail. I don’t really want to risk making another bomb and having something go wrong, you know? It’s not worth it when lives are at risk. *Haru opens up his notes from Howlett’s journal and starts looking at them*.
Logan: *A small smirk tugs at my lips as I listen to Haru's words, the corner of my mouth pulling up in a half-smile.* "Don't worry, I'll be careful. I'll make sure no one sees me when I visit the builder. And let's hope my charm and good looks can win her over. *I chuckle softly before my expression turns serious again.* "As for Pen, we'll have to move carefully and gather as much information as we can. The last thing we need is to put ourselves in danger.
Haru: From what I could tell the first time I saw her look at you she seemed to find you pretty interesting. I think she was trying to hide it at least. Unlike Princess Lumi who seems to be utterly obsessed with you. The moles have a rumor going around that Lumi has filled her bedroom with your wanted posters. Just you. Not a single one of me even. It’s weird. *Haru laughs*.
Logan: *I chuckle and roll my eyes at the mention of Princess Lumi and her obsession.* "Yeah, Lumi has been...insistent, to say the least. I'm not surprised she's filled her bedroom with my wanted posters. But hey, what can I say? I guess I just have a certain charm that attracts princesses." *I give a wry smile, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms.* "But let's focus on more important things right now. Like how we're going to deal with Pen and get to the bottom of this water situation."
Haru: I don’t know if there are any “Haru The Outlaw” fans yet. But you seem to be building quite the notoriety. *Haru laughs*. Ok well I’m going to go get some dinner and sit and think about this. When it’s dark out, go tell the builder of our plan. 
Logan: *I chuckle softly at Haru's comment, shaking my head in amusement.* "And here I thought I was just trying to survive, not become famous. I guess I'll have to add 'outlaw' to my resume." *I smile as Haru announces his intention to grab dinner and think on our plan.* "Alright, I'll wait for nightfall and head over to the builder’s house later. Stay out of trouble, partner."
Me: *I am getting ready for bed when I hear a strange noise downstairs*
Logan: *I carefully slip through the front door of the builder’s house, making sure not to make a sound. As I enter the darkened living room, I catch a glimpse of her upstairs as she gets ready for bed.* "Hey," *I whisper, my voice low and husky.* "I need to talk to you about something important. Can I come upstairs?"
Me: Oh my gosh you scared me silly. What are you doing here? *My heart is racing as I try to gain my composure*. 
Logan: *I chuckle softly, my eyes glinting mischievously in the dim light.* "Sorry about that, didn't mean to give you a scare. But I needed to talk to you about something important, and I didn't want anyone to see me coming here." *I take a step closer, my expression growing more serious.* "Do you mind if I join you upstairs for a few minutes? This is something we need to talk about privately."
Me: Well I don’t see why not. You invited me to your bedroom area yesterday… *I giggle and then stop myself trying to be more serious*. Of course. Please come in. 
Logan: *A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I hear her chuckle. I follow her upstairs into her bedroom and take a look around, studying the space with a casual interest. As I sit down on the edge of her bed, I turn my gaze back to her, my expression growing more serious.* "So, what I'm going to say might sound crazy, but I trust you and I want to be upfront with you."
Me: Oh… this sounds serious. Are you ok? What happened? *I say with concern in my voice*. 
Logan: *I take in a deep breath, running a hand through my hair as I gather my thoughts. My voice is steady when I start to speak, my eyes meeting yours with a serious expression.* "Remember when I told you that I'm a monster hunter? And the story behind my exile? Well, there's something I didn't mention before. My father, who got me the job on the hunting team...he told me something on his deathbed that I've been keeping a secret. He was an archaeologist, and he discovered something incredible in the ruins of the Old World."
——-WHAT IN THE WHAT???? Hahahah——-
Reload: 
Logan: *I lean in slightly, my eyes locking on hers as I speak in a low, urgent tone.* "It's about the water supply. Haru and I have discovered some strange things surrounding how the water levels in the summer are higher than they should be. If we are truly on limited water supply, it should be going down in the summer, but it's not." *I pause for a moment, studying her expression.* " someone has been manipulating the water levels. And we need to find out who."
Me: Oh wow. Really? Why would anyone be manipulating the water levels in Sandrock? *I furrow my brow in confusion*
Logan: "That's the million gael question. We just don't know for sure." *I run a hand through my hair, frustration lining my features.* "But we're determined to find out. And we need your help to do it."
Me: Me? What can I do to help, *I ask curiously*. 
Logan:  *I lean in, my expression serious.* "We need you to get close to Pen, the man the church has put in charge of managing the water pump. We want you to try to get him to let his guard down and reveal any information he might have that could help us figure out why the water levels are going up instead of down during the summer. Pen can be... difficult, but we think you might be able to get him to talk, or at least slip up and reveal something."
Me: Wait… you broke into his house? Why would Pen have a journal from your father? That’s so strange. 
Logan: *I nod, my jaw tightening slightly at the memory of the break-in.* "Yeah, it's definitely strange. We don't know why Pen has my father's journal, but we need to find out. As for breaking into his house.. Well, sometimes you have to do what you have to do to get to the truth. And in this case, it meant breaking and entering." *I pause, my eyes locking onto hers again.* "So, are you in? Will you help us?"
Me: Sandrock is my home now. Of course. I have to help the town. You know I’ll do anything to help you clear your name too. How should I approach Pen? 
Logan: *A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I hear your heartfelt response.* "That's the spirit. I knew you'd be up for the challenge. As for how to approach Pen.... Just be yourself. Charm him, ask him questions, get him talking. Try to get him comfortable around you and see if he'll let something slip." *I lean in a little closer, my voice dropping to a low whisper.* "But be careful. Pen can be cunning. Don’t let him outsmart you."
1 note · View note
helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago
Text
Who? (Forlorn Tale of Dionysus Part 2)
Part 1
Warnings: Swearing
Word count: 2,843
(A/N): I’m not exactly sure if this will continue any further, this was just a fun little thing I had in my drafts for a while after some interesting convos in my discord server (which you totally should join, it’s a vibe). This is lowkey word vomit, but eh. This is all strictly platonic btw
“Michael, are you sure you saw a house out here? I really don’t think-” You were interrupted by your much shorter friend yanking on your sleeve to get your attention. You looked down at him in question and watched as he raised his hands.
‘I am sure I saw that house, (y/n)! It is here somewhere.’ 
You fiddled with the sleeves of your thick coat with unease, “alright, but if we don’t find it soon I wanna head back. Uncle Boo and Uncle Tubbo are probably going to start to worry.”
Michael huffed at the mention of his parents. You knew how overbearing they were, causing your friend to crave new experiences and adventures. You’d known him for a couple of years now and he was rebelling more with each passing day. You could relate slightly, Philza and Technoblade had hardly let you out of the house without another person to accompany you. You never really understood why, you were almost thirteen now so you should be able to explore what you want. 
An excited squeal left your friend’s mouth before he started to pull you towards something in the distance, startling you out of your trance. You matched his pace with ease and felt nervous excitement tingle in your chest. 
As you got closer, you could make out small details of the cabin. It was a simple small cabin built out of spruce planks with glass windows and a brick chimney, but you liked it. It strangely felt homey. 
You pulled Michael into a nearby shrub underneath a window and peered in. The interior was also as simplistic as the outside was, looking untouched and tidy as if nobody was living there. You could see that the ceilings were taller than average, perhaps a hybrid of some sort lived here? 
Michael tapped your shoulder, ‘it doesn’t look like anybody’s home right now. Let’s go in.’ 
You opened your mouth to object before the sight of his set jaw and his eyes dead set on something inside made you close it. You learned from experience that when he was this determined, there was no stopping him. You sighed, “fine, but the second we get caught, it was your idea.” 
You both made your way to the front door. Without a second thought, Michael twisted the doorknob and swung the door open. A startled snort left his throat as he stumbled inside, making you put a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter. He jabbed the side of your lower torso, ‘shut up, I thought it was going to be locked.’
He pulled you inside and you both explored the living room. Bookshelves and portraits lined the walls, a single large couch sat off to the side, and the fireplace mantle was lined with a few small golden hooks. Michael made a beeline towards it, admiring the metal. It seems that’s what he saw that made him so determined to get inside. You hoped that he wouldn’t steal them and explored the area further. 
The portraits on the walls were a slight shock to you, they all included some people that you could recognize; in one you could make out a picture of younger versions of Ranboo, Philza, Technoblade, and Niki. Technoblade and Philza were sparring with shining golden swords while Ranboo and Niki sat in the grass on a hill watching with interest. Maybe this was just one of their old cabins? 
You saw people that you didn’t recognize as well. Namely a cat hybrid with striking sapphire blue eyes, a man seemingly human (you say seemingly because your eyes caught sight of pointed ears) wearing a white bandana keeping his jet black hair out of his face, a tall man with green freckles and a creeper mask, an anthropomorphic diamond block with beady black eyes and a wide smile, and a man that looked strangely like Ghostbur except he was wearing a uniform of some sort. However, a demon quickly caught your eye and made your heart leap for joy. There was someone out there that was like you! 
The man looked kind, always wearing a cheery smile and occasionally waving at the camera. He was tall and lanky, always towering over the others by a considerable amount. That made sense, Philza had told you that demons were naturally very tall when you asked him why you were growing faster than Michael when the zombie piglin was two years older than you were. Large wings and horns akin to yours sprouted from his back and head respectively. If he wasn’t constantly smiling, you would’ve thought that he was malevolent. 
You heard the rapid footsteps of Michael’s boots behind you as you turned around. You bounced on the balls of your feet excitedly, “Michael look, another demon! Do you think he lives here?”
You watched as he shrugged and pulled you towards the kitchen. ‘I don’t know, but look! There’s another demon that looks exactly like you!’ 
On the kitchen table surrounded by various trinkets (bottles of wine, gold bricks, stale bread, and the decomposed remains of flower crowns and bouquets being the majority of the items) laid a framed picture of said demon lazily smiling and looking off to the side. Michael was right, they looked exactly like you except at least a decade older. Everything matched your physical features to a tee; from the red accents on their black wings to the way they smiled, it was like they were your clone. The only thing of yours that they were missing was the three circular birthmarks on your forehead. It was eerily uncanny. 
Your eyes widened before you snatched the picture off from the table, studying them further. If you squinted, you could see that there was someone barely in frame. You flipped the frame around and took out the picture, unfolding it. In the picture was your adopted father and adopted uncles and aunt. What was going on? If they knew the demon, why didn’t they ever tell you about them? 
‘Woah, that was smart. Do you think you might be related to them or something?’ He tilted his head before he perked up, ‘could they be one of your biological parents?’ 
“Maybe, but if they were, why didn’t my dad tell me about them? I… have a right to know about them, right?”
He nodded firmly, ‘you definitely do. It’s kind of fucked up they haven’t told you anything about them.’ 
“Yeah, it is. Do you think something bad happened to them?... Oh shit, is this a memorial?” You hurriedly refolded the picture and put it back into its frame. 
Michael’s eyes widened and flickered around the table at the trinkets before he fished out two gold bars from his pocket and placed them onto the table. You crossed your arms, “what the fuck man?” 
‘I thought they wouldn’t miss a few pieces of gold! You would’ve done the same thing if you were a piglin,’ he defended himself before he paused and shuddered, ‘we’re in a dead person’s house, that’s creepy… What if their ghost is right behind us?’ 
You spun around and put yourself slightly in front of Michael, your heart beating in your throat. Nothing was there. Michael snorted, making you slap his arm, “not cool, man.” 
You were about to stomp off until a piece of paper caught your eye. It was a drawing of this person done in messy purple crayon, probably done by a very young child. It was signed by a Michael. 
You turned to the wheezing zombie piglin and patiently waited for him to stop laughing. When he did, you showed him the picture, “did you draw this? Did you know them?”
He scrunched up his brow in concentration, squinting at the paper. Eventually he shook his head slowly, ‘I don’t think so. At least I don’t remember drawing it… This is getting weird.’ 
You nodded in agreement, putting the drawing back onto the counter. You walked towards the stairs and climbed them. They creaked under your foot loudly, a part of you was scared that you would fall through them. It was clear they haven’t been used in some time. 
They led to a small loft, the ceiling coming to a point far overhead. A part of you was glad that this stranger (relative? Parent?) was a demon, it wasn’t often that you found lofts that fit all six and a half feet of you. 
Like the rest of the house, it was very simplistic. A gigantic bed laid in the center of the furthest wall, made neatly with multiple fluffy blankets, part you was tempted to catapult yourself onto it. On the nightstand next to it sat a redstone lamp and a frosted glass of water, cracks spider webbing up the sides presumably from the cold. 
You opened the lone drawer and discovered a book. Upon further inspection, you discovered that it was a journal with the name (y/n) written inside the cover. So this person had your name as well as your looks? This merely raised more questions than answers, so you slid the book into a pocket in your coat to read later. Under the book laid another picture of them posing with the strange group of people from the portraits downstairs. The de- (y/n) looked younger there. On the back, the word family was written and it was dated to be about twenty years old. You also pocketed the picture.
Michael walked over to the window and looked out at the vast tundra only to squeal in alarm. He ran over to you and pulled you downstairs. You looked out the window only to yelp when you saw a few crows standing on the window sill staring at you with their beady eyes. 
You and Michael ran out of the house as fast as the both of you could, the snow being slightly tough to run through for the five and a half foot tall zombie piglin. You could hear the crows following you overhead. After a while of running, you both finally got back to Snowchester and raced past Ranboo and Tubbo. You hid in Michael’s room with the curtains tightly drawn. 
You sat on his bed with your legs crossed and your back pressed up against the headboard. You let your head bang against the wall and you ran your hand down your face. “We’re fucked, dude. We’re literally so fucked.”
‘Uncle Phil’s still out of town so it’ll probably be a few days until they find out.’ Michael plopped next to you, panting and trying to regain his breath. “Still, we’re gonna be in so 
much trouble for going that far out. I didn’t think my dad’s crows were still here.”
‘Might as well read the journal you found before we get grounded.’
You nodded and took out the journal, flipping it open to the first page. You both read the journal until it was dark outside and Michael was passed out on your shoulder. Subconsciously, you wrapped your wing around him as you read the journal. 
The other (y/n) acted like you did for the most part, the only differences between you two was the lack of swearing and the fact that they felt alone even when they were surrounded by people. Your family’s names were dropped several times, especially when they were talking about ‘The Syndicate’. The code names they used were after various Greek myths, leading you to believe that Technoblade was one of the founders of the anarchist group. 
You had learned that their family (potentially your family?) was strangely possessed by an egg and that they were previously possessed by said egg. They had a brother named Sapnap (your potential uncle?) that helped them escape to the tundra. It was there that they found the Syndicate, reminding you of the found family tropes you would read in books. The last journal entry detailed their last mission, how they were going to destroy the Eggpire from within and get their family back. That entry in particular gave you chills, even someone with half a brain could tell what happened to them after that. 
By the time you had closed the book, it was dawn and the sun was peeking out from behind the closed curtains. You shook Michael awake and stretched out your aching body. Your neck muscles protested movement, sending a wave of pain across the area. 
‘Damn, did you stay up all night reading that?’ 
“Of course I did, why wouldn’t I? I needed to find out about my biological parent somehow. I just- nothing makes sense, Michael.” You growled out, your voice deepening and distorting slightly as your frustration rose. 
‘Chill! You’ll figure it out soon, let’s just focus on staying under the radar.’ 
“Too late for that.” 
You both jumped and fell off the bed as you heard Philza’s voice. In the doorway, Philza stood with Ranboo, Tubbo, and Technoblade by his side, all looking equally angry and disappointed. Next to you, Michael shrunk in on himself and smiled sheepishly. He was about to raise his hands to sign, but a pointed look from Tubbo next to him told him that there was no getting out of this one. 
Behind the anger, you could tell that something changed about the way the four were looking at you. You couldn’t tell what emotion they were hiding, whether it be wariness, longing, sadness, or just more unleashed anger, but you could tell that they knew something you didn’t. If the frustration that overcame you when you were reading the journal at the lack of questions answered burned inside of you, then what you felt now was a blazing inferno. 
“We’re going home, grab your stuff (y/n).” 
After a short staredown with the older man, you huffed in anger and gathered your things into your bag. The entire time, tense silence filled the room. Your hands were shaking with the rage you felt searing every inch of you. You could hear the sharp flicking of your pointed tail cutting through the air and occasionally hitting objects near you. 
When you were done you stomped over to your adopted family and shouldered between Philza and Technoblade, speed walking down the hallway. They quickly caught up with you after saying a quick apology and a goodbye, Technoblade grabbing your arm and holding it in a vice grip. 
They led you out of the mansion and into the harsh winds of the tundra. It wasn’t until Snowchester was far off in the distance that Technoblade shook your arm, “what the hell were you thinking, going into someone else’s house like that! You don’t know who lived there, you could’ve gotten yourself and Michael killed!” 
“You really thought I wouldn’t find out, didn’t you?” You ripped your arm out of his hold and spoke in a low voice, struggling to contain your full rage. “I have a goddamned right to know about them.” 
“...I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Philza muttered out and resumed walking back towards your house. “You’re grounded when we get back, no flying or dueling lessons for two weeks.” 
“Of course you know what I’m talking about, Dad! Why are you hiding them from me? I have a right to know about my biological parent even if they’re dead!” 
They both halted in their tracks and glanced at each other in slight confusion. “What-”
“You know damn well who I’m talking about. Gods, I can’t believe you thought I’d never find out,” you laughed sardonically as your hand subconsciously gripped your growing horn. “(Y/n)! You know, the demon that lived in that house? The one that looks exactly like me?! Does that ring a bell or do I have to show you this?” 
You rummaged in your pocket and ripped out the picture, shoving it into Philza’s hands. Technoblade looked over his shoulder at what you gave him. You watched as their expressions turned blank when they saw the demon in the picture. 
Minutes passed with them continuing to stare down at the picture and you were slowly getting impatient. “Why did you never tell me about them? Why are you keeping me from them?!” 
Without looking up at you, Philza mumbled, “you weren’t supposed to find out about them. You were never supposed to find out.” 
“Do you have any idea how ambiguous that is? Just tell me who they are!” You could feel your eye twitch as your frustration grew. 
You could see the internal conflict on Philza’s face growing by the second before he dipped his head downwards and stalked off in the opposite direction of the house. You spread your wings to chase him in the air, but Technoblade’s hand on your upper arm stopped you from lifting off. 
When you looked up at him, the look of regret and sorrow etched into his features caught you by surprise. “Let him go, he needs to do some thinking… (y/n), do you know what reincarnation is?”
General taglist (comment if you want to be added):
@crybabyjabby  @izzybobizzy13  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @bunnyz-pxstel  @averytiredfanfictionwriter  @dcml04  @sparkling-gayyyy  @bbigbbrainn  @thaticecreambish  @kiinokochii  @satansphatass  @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx  @roxy3457  @montygator17  @feverish-dove  @the-fictionwriters-hairdo  @jichuuchaeng  @404rynnotfound @luluwinchester  @laura--444  @the-cult-classic-bitch  @youngstarfishdinosaur  @nottheotheruser  @ohworm-writes  @localwolfanon  @realitycanbeajerk  @v10dw4lk3r  @esylwen  @seraphsema  @boiled-onionrings  @smolgreenybeany  @louistommosnesquickmilk  @hyacinthrosearsha  @ryxjxnnx  @autumnpleaves  @ravennightingaleandavatempus  @0ton1n  @self-righteous-dumbass  @a-simp-for-block-people  @fortunatelylazystranger  @m1lkmandan  @mirios-sunflower  @ahmya-4  @shinipii  @noyasblush  @auroraskyfall  @cryptocry  @hee-hee-haw  @blackstar-gazer 
Gender neutral reader taglist (comment if you want to be added):
@totem-awooga  @parkeepingparker  @whatislifebutlemons
266 notes · View notes
jincherie · 4 years ago
Text
sunshine riptide | ot7
Tumblr media
—  COMMISSION  —
⊙  — pairing: ot7 x reader ⊙  — genre: hybrid au, fluff, comfort, found family, ac inspired ⊙  — wc: 13.8k+ ⊙  — warnings: oc has an almost/light anxiety attack towards the end. there is no explicitly mentioned trigger and it isn’t dwelled on for long, but better to let u guys know! ⊙  — notes: here it is! it’s soft, and warm, and I hope that it can be something to cheer up a little bit those who aren’t having such a good day. i love u all,  and I hope you like this piece :) to the commissioner, thank you for allowing me to write this and I truly hope it helps you feel even just a little bit better! <3
Moving to this island whose inhabitants are mostly hybrids was a bit of an impulse decision, something you did with empty pockets barely a cent to your name. Thanks to the kindness of the island’s ‘mayor’ you have a place to stay, the last spare room in a sharehouse with seven hybrids, and for three months he will pay your rent in exchange for you to work in his shop until you are back on your feet. It’s a sweet deal, but when you begin to get along better than expected with your housemates and the deadline for your departure looms ever closer, you’re not sure you’re going to be able to make yourself leave when the time comes. 
— posted; 06.09.2020 | masterlist
Tumblr media
“So in exchange for three months paid stay on the island while you get back on your feet, you will work part-time at the Rabbits Den three days a week, and man the desk in the Resident Services Building on Sundays. Is that okay to you?”
You nod eagerly, the ordeal seeming too good to be true and something you’re afraid will be retracted if you don’t act with haste. Mr Bang returns your motion with a little less fervour, the same kind look never leaving his face.
“Perfect, it’s settled then! We’re glad to have you with us, y/n.”
Something lifts from your chest in that moment, as though you’d been walking beneath the cover of a lead blanket and it has finally slipped from your shoulders. You feel a little breathless, and you know the grin that slips onto your face is stupidly wide. Embarrassingly, you feel salty pricks at the corner of your eyes.
“Thank you so much,” you say, and you mean it. It hadn’t exactly been a well thought out plan, moving here with nothing to your name but your most basic possessions, but you’d just needed to escape and start anew and this… this had been the first opportunity you’d seen. The best opportunity you’d seen. “Really, thank you.”
“You’re more than welcome, young lady.” Mr Bang’s expression grows even softer, if possible. “This is a place people come to find refuge, and happiness. You’re welcome here.”
You clear your throat, turning your head to the side and pretending that you need to cough so he doesn’t see the tear that slips out. You have a feeling he knows, though, as you turn back and find him smiling at you, floppy rabbit ears framing his round face. He reaches out, patting you on the shoulder.
“Now, lets find you a room for the night. I’ll send word to the house I have in mind and make sure they have it nice and tidy before your arrival tomorrow. Sound good?”
It hits you only now how tired you are, more emotionally exhausted than anything, and nod while allowing him to lead you down the hall. That does sound good, actually. That sounds amazing.
O – O – O
You’d arrived on this island in the early hours of the morning yesterday, the late-night ferry the only one that runs to this island on the outskirts of the archipelago. It’s likely due to the fact that the captain is a nocturnal hybrid, and hence prefers to run his business under the cover of night. You hadn’t been able to sleep on the trip over, so when Mr Bang had shown you to the room he was happy to lend you for the night, despite it being barely ten o’clock in the morning you’d passed out the second your head hit the pillow. It was more of a nap than anything, but you suspect that the events of the past few months all caught up to you at once because you woke only for dinner and then fell asleep once more. Mr Bang offered no judgement, and simply left a note instructing you where the bathroom is and where you could find towels so that you could freshen up once you awoke. He also left you a coffee bun in a container, since you’d missed the afternoon tea he held the day before.
You hadn’t even been on this island a day and already the kindness of one of the residents was almost bringing you to tears.
Due to the fact that you’d slept far too early, you end up waking up at an ungodly hour the next day, the day you are meant to be moving in to the sharehouse that Mr Bang told you about. Laying in the bed, nestled in the warmth of the covers and watching as the suns rays slowly begin to stain the ceiling and the curtains in rich marigold, you do your best to get yourself together. You can breathe easy now, any anxiety you’d felt previous now nothing more than an echo in your chest. You feel refreshed, and not just from the ridiculous amount of sleep you’ve had in the past twenty-four hours. There are of course some nerves pertaining to meeting your new housemates, but it’s manageable. You have faith that everything will turn out well. It’s a good feeling.
Mr Bang is kind enough to offer you breakfast, and likely would have pushed you to stay for lunch had you not shown up down the stairs with your baggage already in tow. So begrudgingly, he allows you to head on your way, informing you that your new housemates knew of your arrival and had endeavoured to tidy up as much as possible. You thought it was a little funny he was telling you that—just how messy is the house usually?—but he simply shook his head with a smile that told you the answer would come soon enough.
The island isn’t big, but it most definitely isn’t small. The sun is warm and the air cool with a tinge of salt and sea trailing along the breeze, and the path you walk along that skirts the beach is peppered with sand and the odd shell. It makes you happier than anticipated, because just being out here makes you feel so free. Mr Bang told you that the house where you will be staying is on the other side of the island, past the little cluster of shops and small businesses and perched at the edge of the sand, backing onto a river that flows into the ocean and skirted on one side by a small cliff.
“It’s their own little alcove,” Mr Bang had snorted, a mixture of fondness and amusement evident on his features. “They get up to more trouble than I can keep track of over there, but they’re good boys.”
Ah, that’s right. You’d almost forgotten; your new housemates are a bunch of boys. You hope that Mr Bang is right about their character and you won’t be living in discomfort for the next three months.
The path wound and curved a bit, following the edge of the island, and before long you were walking through a section of light forestry. You suspected the house would be on the other side, and were in the midst of thinking just what it would look like when a small squeak! catches your attention and you halt, almost dropping your bag.
It’s silent, save for the way the breeze caresses the leaves around you. You peer around, eyes unable to spot anything in the foliage. Did you imagine it? It’s a little early in your stay to be going crazy. Hesitantly, you adjust your grip on your bag and resume your trek.
Squeak! S-squeeeak!
No, you definitely heard that. You freeze, having gotten a better sense of where the sound is coming from now and turning towards a large tree smothered in vines of varying thickness and clinginess. For a moment, you don’t see anything, eyes squinting hard—it’s like one of those I spy books you used to rave about as a kid— and just when you think you might be looking in the wrong place, you catch movement.
There, in a cluster of the vines dangling from one of the tree’s thicker limbs, is a tiny creature, all tangled up and squeaking in distress.
“Oh my goodness,” you drop your bag, immediately moving closer.  “Poor thing—hold on just a second, bub. I’ll get you out. Promise not to bite me?”
The creature offers a squeak and logically you know it isn’t answering your request, but you pretend it is anyway. Carefully stepping over plants and twigs, thanking past you for wearing more practical boots, you reach where the creature is stuck, dangling just below eye level.
The vines it has managed to get all tangled up in aren’t particularly thick, but there are a lot of them, and it has managed to get a few of its limbs stuck in place. Carefully, you snap a few of the more central ones and ease the tiny thing out, getting a better view of it the more you pull from its body. It’s squeaking all the while, though with much less distress and more of an energy that simply feels chatty. It makes you smile.
“There you go,” you murmur, cradling the tiny baby in your palms and cooing, trying to calm the heartbeat and hurried breaths you can feel racing against your skin. You stroke along its back as lightly as you can manage. “Oh, you’re a little sugar glider! You’re so pretty, such a cutie. Look at your markings, wow… so pretty.”
Almost as though it can understand your praise and is basking in it, it flicks its bushy tail and rolls in your palm, like a cat rubbing against something with its cheek except this little glider is doing it with its whole body. It’s awfully friendly, you note. Perhaps much of the wildlife here is more peacefully accustomed to human and hybrid activity.
“Okay, you’re free now. I’ll stop ogling at you and let you go,” you say, holding your hands up to a part of the tree that isn’t covered in vines lest there be a repeat of the earlier situation. The sugar glider merely blinks, eyes still on you, and doesn’t move. Brows drawn in confusion, you move your hands closer to the tree, “Well, aren’t you going to—oh!”
Faster than you can react, the little thing darts from your hands, leaping to your bicep and scurrying up with tiny claws in your shirt to your shoulder. Once at its apparent destination, it rushes to the crook of your neck and makes itself at home, nestling against you and securing itself with its tail partway around the back of your neck and its little paws clutching your shirt edge. You giggle, still in shock and trying not to jostle it off as you fight the ticklish sensation.
“Okay. I guess you can come with me. I’m not sure if you can stay the whole while, but I’m sure it will be okay while I walk.”
So off you go, bending and retrieving your bag carefully so you don’t dislodge your tiny new companion. You’ve seen a bit of sugar gliders, but the way this one is acting is quite peculiar. If it sticks around until you arrive at the house, you’d love to snap a quick picture because it really is so pretty, so cute.
The trip is faster than anticipated, now there is something else to occupy your thoughts. Before you know it you’re out of the forestry and approaching a large, modern three storey building that is probably just a few yards short of a mansion, nestled between the ocean, the river, and a short cliff-face just barely higher than the roof. This is the place for sure.
The little glider seems to perk up, the closer you get, something that surprises you since it was so quiet you thought it was asleep. With a soft noise, it grabs onto your hair with tiny paws and scurries to the top of your head, likely making a mess of it in the process but it’s so cute you can’t bring yourself to mind. At least it will be an interesting first impression.
As you approach the front door, you think you see movement in one of the windows on the ground floor. You almost dismiss it as you reach the eve, until you catch the hurried patter of feet against hardwood from beyond the door.
You barely manage to blink before the door is flying open, a man with raven curls and two fluffy russet ears peeking between the locks presenting you with the biggest grin you have ever seen on anyone’s face. It’s boyish and cute, a direct contrast to the mature, sculpted features of his face.
“Hello!” he says, and you catch sight of a long, fluffy russet tail whipping behind him and betraying his excitement—not that he was doing much to hide it. “You must be the new roomie! It’s nice to meet you! We’ve been waiting all morning, and one of us actually went to pick you up but… I’m not sure where he is.”
You’re a little overwhelmed but easily recover when he simply keeps looking at you so happily, returning the man’s bright smile. There’s rustling in your hair at the back of your head but you ignore it, adjusting your grasp on your bag. “Ah, thank you. I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you…?”
The man pulls back, a sheepish look on his face that accompanies a light flush in his cheeks. “Oh, right. I’m Taehyung. Sorry. My hyungs tell me I tend to get a bit ahead of myself sometimes.”
You keep the smile on your face. “That’s okay, we got there in the end. It’s nice to meet you, Taehyung.”
Taehyung brightens, tail curling happily behind him. He opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted from a voice to the side.
“Are you going to make our poor new housemate wait outside all day, Tae?”
The light blush colouring Taehyung’s cheeks deepens, a sheepish laugh escaping. “No. I was just about to invite her in!”
He steps back and reveals the person behind him who had spoken, a tall man with dimples and silvery hair that did little to conceal the large, rounded grey ears atop his head. He seems a little awkward in his stance, like he has more body than he knows what to do with, but still extends an arm in greeting with a kind smile. “y/n, is it? Welcome, please come in. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here with us, however brief. We’re happy to have you.”
Don’t cry, don’t cry! If you cry now you can never show your face here again. You clear your throat, returning his smile as you step inside and out of the sun, the difference in temperature against your skin immediate. “Thank you, I really appreciate your generosity in letting me stay here.”
“Nonsense,” Taehyung snorts, “Namjoon-hyung has been saying for months we should find someone to fill the spare room, and now you show up on our doorstep! It’s perfect.”
The taller, who Taehyung had referenced as Namjoon, seems a little bashful, his cheeks heating. Does everyone in this house blush so easily? You hope it’s not contagious.
There is movement in your hair again, the glider apparently needing to breathe, and you have your mouth open ready to explain when Namjoon beats you to it.
“Oh, I see you’ve met Jimin already!”
What?
The glider leaps from your head and onto Taehyung’s outstretched arm, climbing to his head before leaping from that too and gliding through the air, all the way around the corner. There is a small clutter, the sound of a light swearword entering the air, and then the ever-familiar patter of feet against hardwood. Another boy rounds the corner, ashy-blond hair tousled and parted by two small grey ears, bushy tail curling behind him.
He skids to a stop in front of you, dipping in a brief bow before rising and shooting you a bright smile. “Hello! Thank you for helping me! I’m Jimin, welcome home!”
It takes all of your willpower to keep the happy tears at bay as you tilt your head back and laugh, already feeling lighter than you ever remember feeling before.
O – O – O
Your next introductions to the hybrids you will be sharing your home with for the next three months go much smoother and without as many surprises as the last ones. Jimin, who seems to have warmed up to you quickly, was more than happy to take you on a tour of the house and to go through introductions while he was at it. He happily told you who was what hybrid as well, without you asking. You figured that he realised your underperforming human nose wouldn’t be able to tell, so he took the initiative and you’re thankful for it, because you were curious.
The oldest resident of the house is Seokjin, a red-panda hybrid who goes on a spree of stress-baking every time exam season rolls around. Most of the hybrids study online, as you learnt from Jimin’s excited chattering. The second you met Jin, as he preferred to be called, you were stunned at how handsome he was. Of course, any awe that rooted you to the spot quickly dissipated as he said a joke so painfully funny it left you with whiplash between the urge to roll your eyes and guffaw. You like him, though. He’s nice.
You quickly discover that all the inhabitants of this house are, though. Yoongi is the second oldest and a squirrel glider hybrid—something Jimin said he found funny since he was closest to Jimin, a sugar glider, and Hoseok, the third oldest and a sunny squirrel hybrid. He giggled as he told you, and you couldn’t hide your own smile even as Yoongi’s ear had flicked and he’d shot the two of you a suspicious look. The little fun fact Jimin had told you about Yoongi had taken you by surprise; he remotely operates the island’s radio, many of the tunes ones he has created himself. Often, if there is a festival, he will volunteer his time to work the music jobs there, too. Apparently Namjoon also pitches in, and Hoseok when he has free time outside of the classes he teaches on the other side of the island.
Hoseok is a dancer, Jimin had gushed, and while he teaches at the school part time, he also volunteers time outside of that to hold dance classes for the kids. Jimin told you that he joins occasionally, but less often lately since his workload for university has increased. He did tell you, though, that the youngest of the house had all but taken his place, his youthful heart at home mucking around with kids and helping them learn.
Jungkook is his name, and Jimin informed you with a very fond and very amused look that he is rather shy, so you might not see him for a few days. Apparently it had been uttered just loud enough for the hybrid in question to catch it though, because there was a tumbling sound from the floor above and a series of stomping footsteps. A head of long, wavy inky hair had popped over the railing, grey ears pinned back as a baby-faced boy delivered a glare to the blonde to your side.
“Hyung! That’s not true! I’m not too shy to even introduce myself!” he had defended himself avidly, red-faced and huffy. When his eyes turned to you, mouth open to follow through on his words, he abruptly shrank and all that escaped was a squeak. It took him a moment to conjure speech once more, and this time he was noticeably less bold. “I’m—I’m Jungkook! It’s nice to meet you! I have to go now! Goodbye!”
And then he was gone, and so concluded your final introduction to the residents you had yet to meet. You thought you had a good feeling when you first arrived, but now that you’ve met everyone and everything feels that bit more real, you find yourself thinking…
It’s a really good feeling.
O – O – O
“It’s not what it looks like!”
You raise a brow, book in hand as you stand at the edge of the sand bank where green bleeds into gold. Against your heels is cool grass, and your toes are dipped in the gentle warmth of the sand. Namjoon sits in front of you, beneath a tree protruding from the dune, with a bundle of leaves in his hand and a guilty look in his face.
“Isn’t eucalyptus toxic to humans and hybrids?”
“I’m not eating it!” Namjoon waves his hands in a frantic bid to assure you, eyes wide, and almost drops the leaves in question. His large, grey ears flick in his distress. “I was just… I know I can’t eat it but it smells so good… I was just sniffing it. It calms me.”
You let out a light laugh, walking closer and plopping down on the sand beside him, beneath the generous shade the tree offers. The sea breeze is kind and cools your skin where it smarts from the sun, tickling your neck and manipulating your hair into a tumbleweed. Namjoon snorts, helping you get it back in order.
“No judgement,” you say, crossing your legs and placing your book in your lap for the meantime. “Just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t have to take you to a hospital, because I do not know where to find one on this island.”
Namjoon grins, rosy cheeks complimenting his skin the way it glows gold in the sun’s glare. “You’d drag little ol’ me all the way to the hospital if you knew where it was?”
“Well, yeah,” you laugh, sifting sand through your fingers as you relish the sound of waves crashing barely a yard away. It’s so peaceful, you feel so at peace. “Since none of you seem to know what a car is.”
“We had a car,” Namjoon admits, face flushing violently as he averts his gaze, turning his head. “There was just, um, an unfortunate incident… that may have involved a tree, or two…”
You decide not to probe further, lest your current good impression of Namjoon come under threat. A beat of silence passes, before Namjoon shuffles, placing the bundle of leaves back on the grass. He angles his body a little more towards you, sniffing subtly.
“So… how is your stay so far? Is everything going okay?”
You can’t hide the expression of surprise that makes its way to your face as you turn to him, blinking. You don’t know what you were expecting, but for some reason it hadn’t been that. It’s awfully nice of him.
You’ve been on the island almost a week now. The interactions you’ve had with your housemates so far, though not too bountiful, have all been pleasant, and you genuinely have nothing to complain about. You haven’t seen much of Jungkook, Hoseok, or Yoongi—but that mostly comes down to incompatible work hours and commitments. Mr Bang’s nephews run the Rabbit’s Den, the local convenience store that occasionally hosts a few exotic goods, and they have been nothing short of helpful, polite, and friendly while you worked there. You have worked a single shift at the Resident Services Building too, and it was pretty chill. A few residents came in, happily introduced themselves to you, and then you helped them with whatever had warranted their visit. All in all, your stay has been amazing so far.
“It’s been good,” you say, and it feels so nice to have the words escaping your mouth be true to the warmth in your chest. “Everyone here is super nice. It does feel a bit odd though, sometimes I feel like I’m the only human here.”
“Oh, yeah. You are,” Namjoon huffs an amused laugh. “You’re the first human Mr Bang has allowed on this island.”
Your surprise is evident, and it makes him smile when he turns his head to give you a sly look. “He must have had a good feeling about you. Rabbit hybrids tend to rely a lot on their gut feelings and intuition.”
“Oh,” you say, cheeks warming. Well, you’re glad he had decided to let you in. You say as much to Namjoon, and he smiles brightly at you.
“We’re glad he decided to let you in, too.”
You’re not sure what to say to that, a little embarrassed from the unexpectedness of it—was he really telling the truth? You’d hardly spent any time with some of your other housemates…
A calm silence begins to settle between you, and you take the time to open your book and resume where you left off. You get so carried away reading that when you finally look up some time later, the sight to your side almost makes you gasp.
Namjoon had, at some point, fallen asleep in a little patch of sunlight that manage to pierce through the foliage—in the place of the large, long-limbed man you had been talking to is now a considerably smaller fluffy koala, sitting upright and snoozing lightly. You suspect this isn’t the most ideal position for him to be sleeping in, though, because every few moments he will sway on the spot, almost tipping but not quite going far enough to have an abrupt meeting with the sand.
You coo, unable to help it, but the sound quickly grows alarmed when he leans too far—before you can think your arms shoot out to hold him up, but it seems there is something true to what is said about koalas being clingy because the second he feels something touch him, koala Namjoon clings.
You squeak, a fully-grown koala now wrapped around your forearm. Slowly, you bring it closer to you (feeling your bicep burn all the while because damn is he heavier than he looks!), planning to use your other hand to ease him off, but it seems that the second you’re close enough he can sense your warmth and he wants in. You sit, exasperated and amused, with a koala now latched to your midriff, arm forgotten. Both your hands are now free, but at what cost?
You figure that he’ll probably let go when he wakes up, or he might fall back into the sand in his sleep, but until then you resign yourself to unexpected but definitely not unwelcome koala cuddles. You just hope he won’t be too embarrassed when he wakes up; you can already see him stuttering and going red in your mind’s eye. It brings a chuckle to your lips, and with a smile on your face you return to your book once more, a little more content than before.
O – O – O
 It’s been a while since you’ve had to deal with the dreams.
Usually, once they start you can wake yourself up, or you can manage to turn them around if they’re one you’ve had before. But some nights, when the dreams come, you’re helpless but to see them play out. Sometimes they’re not that bad, but even the milder ones leave you with a nauseous ball of anxiety beneath your lungs and a feeling of discomfort that digs claws deep in your bones.
About three weeks into your stay, you wake up after one such dream, a cursory glance to your phone and the painful glare of its screen revealing it to be the early hours of the morning. For a moment you simply lay, blinking, with your gaze rooted on the ceiling. You had strung up some fairy lights around your dresser, and on the plaster above you the soft colourful rainbow of their hue meshes and blends with the cool pools of moonlight slipping through your curtains.
Absently, and with a sense of resignation that you feel in your bones, you strip the cover back and climb out of bed, deciding you may as well grab some water since you’re likely not going to be able to fall asleep very easily anytime soon.
As you make your way through the levels to the ground floor where the kitchen resides, you’re careful to be as quiet as possible—you’re not sure how successful your effort is but you do know that quite a few of your housemates have been inundated with coursework lately and you don’t want to disturb any of the valuable rest they need so badly. Jimin had looked so wiped out yesterday that you’d literally had to pull him away from the dishes and send him to bed. He complained on the way, but as soon as his head hit his pillow he was out, leaving you in a mixture of awe and concern. He explained as soon as he woke the next morning that he had been up all night completing an assignment, and it made you realise just how exhausted a lot of your roommates seem lately. You hope this period passes soon for them; you may not have been here long but you have grown to care for them and you don’t like seeing them so unwell.
You’re just pondering this when you reach the ground floor and venture into the kitchen, thoughts and feet coming to an abrupt stop as you take in the sight that greets you there.
Seokjin is standing by the bench, hands moving slowly as he puts something together just out of your view. A quick survey of the rest of the countertop tells you that he’s making lunches, and while ordinarily this would touch your heart (as it does every time you see how each of the hybrids in this house cares for each other), this time you’re overcome with a strong wave of concern.
Delicately put, Seokjin looks dead on his feet.
Every few moments his head bobs down, chin almost hitting his chest before he jerks awake just long enough to lift his head, before the cycle repeats once more. He looks so exhausted you’re impressed he managed to make as many lunches as he did. Though, from the looks of it he’s only about halfway through.
“Hey, Seokjin… are you okay?”
The hybrid jumps, the startle you gave him probably rendering him more awake than he has been in a few hours.
“Wh—what are you doing awake?” he sputters, having to lean against the bench so that he doesn’t fall over. “It’s almost midnight!”
You can’t help the look you give him, a mixture between amusement and concern. “Um… it’s a little past midnight actually… probably closer to two… are you alright?”
Seokjin blinks at you for a second while your words sink in, before he sags with a light groan, bringing a hand up to scrub at his eyes.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleepiness. His bushy, striped tail sways behind him before curling around his thigh. “I’m just… kind of wiped out. I was up finishing a part of a really big assessment piece and it took longer than I thought… I was going to go to bed but then I remembered that I hadn’t prepared the boys’ lunches, and I always do that, so I came down here and…”
He makes a great, sweeping gesture over the mess on the bench, a result of his patchy attention. A huff of laughter escapes him. “Yeah.”
“I’m glad you finished your piece, but… do you really have to make their lunches? I think you should probably get some sleep…”
You were a little worried he might take your words the wrong way, but you can tell from the serene expression on his face that he doesn’t. “I always do it. If I don’t, then they might worry about me, and I don’t want them to worry about me when they should spend that energy worrying about themselves. Plus, I don’t know if I’d be able to sleep if I knew they weren’t done.”
You return his amused smile, taking a step closer and willing yourself to speak the idea that had come to mind.
“Well, considering I found you almost sleeping on the spot when I came down, I think you should probably call it a night and get some rest. I’d be happy to finish up and make sure the lunches are done, if you’d like?”
You can see the resistance immediately, the tall man opening his mouth to refuse—but he halts, and for a moment slips into his own thoughts. Sensing that he just needs a little push, you continue, “If you tell me what you usually make, I should be able to finish the rest of them without too much trouble.”
He blinks, and in that moment you see the rest of his exhaustion flood to the surface. He sniffles, unable to fight the yawn that rises. “… Okay. If that’s really alright with you…?”
You laugh, reaching to bump Seokjin’s side. “Of course it is. I don’t mind at all, especially if it means you’ll go to sleep in your bed and not on the kitchen floor. Now, what do you normally make…?”
Letting out a soft laugh, Seokjin does his best to stay awake long enough to instruct you on what he makes and how he makes it for the remaining members of the household. You can’t help but notice throughout his explanation that he doesn’t seem to make lunch for himself despite making it for everyone else, and as he finally plods off to bed and passes out, you make the decision that you’re going to make some lunch for him too. It takes you a brief google search on the diet of red pandas and their hybrid counterparts, as well and recalling what you know of Seokjin’s taste in food, but it doesn’t take you too long to decide on what to make. You work through the lunches one by one, grateful for the distraction, and complete the task fully when Seokjin’s sits primly next to the rest. You pile them all into the fridge, washing your hands again before grabbing the water you originally came down for, and then you’re making the trip back upstairs to your own bed, a soft smile on your face and a warm satisfaction curling around your lungs. You fall asleep easier than expected for a night where you had one of those dreams, but there most definitely aren’t any complaints to be found as you drift off with a faint smile on your lips.
--
The next day, it’s only a little before midday when Seokjin finally rises from his slumber and makes his way downstairs. Blearily, he reaches the kitchen and heads straight to the fridge, attempting to think through his sleep-addled brain what he should make for lunch. Those thoughts are interrupted as he catches sight of a box he hasn’t seen outside of the little tupperware cupboard by the stove in ages sitting on the middle shelf, a little paper tag with ‘for Seokjin’ scribbled onto it perched on top.
He pulls it out and places it on the bench, staring in confusion. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to kick his limbs into gear and open it, but from that point on the realisation comes quickly with the memory of last night.
You’d gone and made lunch for him, too. And from the looks of it, you’d paid great attention to what to include.
His stomach rumbles violently as he takes in the sight of berries and the bamboo shoots he usually stores in the fridge that you must have taken the time to boil and season. There is a sandwich in there as well but he doesn’t need to check whether he will like it because he can already smell the salmon.
He doesn’t know what to think, or really what to say. He knows he’s just lucky you’ve already gone to work at the Rabbit’s Den because otherwise you would probably be here and risk seeing his eyes tear up a little.
A side effect from being sleepy and stressed is the dramatics, he knows, but still… he can’t help but notice the warm feeling that lingers in his stomach when he thinks of how nice you are to do such a thing.
O—O—O
“You’re gonna love it when we get there, y/n! It’s so pretty, and there’s so much fruit… I’m going to feast.”
You can’t help but let out a laugh, thoroughly enjoying the company of your two housemates and the combination of cool breeze and warm sunlight the air offers as they kiss your skin. It’s earlier in the morning than you tend to wake up, but you’ve been invited out on an exclusive adventure and you aren’t in any position to say no. For the past few weeks you’ve noticed that on a Saturday and Sunday morning, Taehyung tends to disappear. You don’t know where, and each time you saw him again you forgot to ask, but finally the opportunity had arisen for you to sate your curiosity. Happily, the lemur hybrid had informed you that there is a small section of the island towards the north that is absolutely packed with trees, bushes and otherwise, all peppered with ripe fruit. Some days he goes to tend to them, but on the weekends he confessed to you that he normally goes to harvest the literal fruits of his labour.
“Just don’t eat all of the tamarind again, Jiminie, or I will have to kill you myself.”
Jimin lets out a loud laugh, stumbling in his gait for a moment from the force of it. “Yessir! Understood, sir!”
Taehyung’s lips quirk into a smile, and he returns his gaze to the front to continue marching ahead and leading the two of you to his secret spot. You adjust your hold on the woven bag over your shoulder, brushing away some of the more unruly strands of hair that have made their way across your face by riding on the breeze.
“Thanks again for inviting me, Tae,” you say, unable to hide the skip in your step as you plod along after them, smiling brightly. “I’ve been wanting to explore more—it feels wrong that I’ve been here for a month and barely seen everything there is to see.”
Taehyung spins to flash you a beaming grin over his shoulder, ears flicking and tail curling happily. “Of course, it’s no problem! I did wonder if you’d like to come some time, so I’m glad you mentioned it the other day.”
Jimin gasps, the sound somewhere between playful and affronted. “You asked her yourself to come?! I had to beg for weeks! Weeks!”
“I told you, the fruit weren’t done when you first asked!” Taehyung whines, reaching back and pausing in his steps just long enough to whack Jimin on the shoulder. “You just didn’t listen!”
“I’m baby,” Jimin says, whether in affirmation or explanation you’re not sure. It manages to tear a laugh from Taehyung either way, and you’re no different.
You’re not left stewing in anticipation for long; before you know it you’re broaching the place that Taehyung and Jimin speak so highly of. Rounding a corner, you come across a large grove that ends beyond what your eyes can see—some trees curl and wind, others stand straight and proud with their roots covered modestly with smaller shrubbery. Vines cling and string around some trunks, but the one thing all of the flora in front of you has in common is that they’re all ripe with fruit, ready to be picked.
“Oh wow,” you remark, barely aware you’ve even said anything. A deep laugh sounds from beside you and you turn to see Taehyung grinning brightly, tail curling happily behind him and his little ears flicking with glee.
“Pretty, right? Some of these were already growing here when I found it, like the apples, but the rest of it I planted over time. I’m proud of how it’s turned out.”
“You should be!” you exclaim, pointing to the fruit displayed in the very image of temptation before you all. “Dude, they look delicious.”
“They are!” Jimin chimes in, flitting past you and snagging his finger in your sleeve as he goes to drag you along. “Come on, there’s a mulberry tree up the back and it has the juiciest berries. We have to pick them now before all the birds and fruit bats get them.”
Laughing, you allow the sugar glider hybrid to lead you into the grove of greenery, the man ducking and weaving around branches with ease as his feet follow a path well-worn into the dirt and grass. The splotches of sunlight that filter through the foliage are pleasant where they warm your skin, breeze ensuring you don’t get too hot beneath the kiss of a star. In the shadows of the trees, it is actually much cooler than you expected, but you can’t help but feel that the temperature, the air, the sights—everything feels perfect.
The mulberry tree, fondly called Ol’ Bessy as Jimin had eagerly informed you, is a large, looming monster of a tree with a plethora of winding trunks and subordinate thin branches that dangle and sway in the breeze in the image of a weeping willow. When you comment on the sheer size of it, Taehyung simply shrugs and tells you with a smile that it’s been here a long time, before anyone was on the island.
The three of you don't have much desire to waste any more time standing and dawdling, and so you begin your activity for the day, woven bags and baskets prepared and at the ready. You inspect the mulberries that are hanging lowest, spying the occasional green one but becoming easily appeased when you find bunches of ripe ones, plump and fit to burst as they weigh the thinner branches down.
Gathering them is harder than anticipated, because you hadn't accounted for the fact they they're, well, berries. It takes a few attempts and more than a few instances of stained hands before you figure out the best way to pluck them from the tree without bursting them. Taehyung saw the first one you popped and the way it went all up your arm, and hasn't stopped laughing since.
The three of you bounce between fruits and trees, filling your containers with whichever you prefer. After a while though you all seem to have the same idea to congregate at the mulberry tree. Admittedly, you hadn't been able to stop yourself from munching on some of the fruits as you picked them, but as you look at them and see berry stains around their mouths and apple leaves in their hair, you feel a little less guilty about it. Taehyung places his basket down, leaning it securely against the base of the tree trunk, before dusting his hands with a sharp clap and then resting them on his hips.
"Right," he says, eyes alight. "There's just one more tree to visit. I think you're gonna love it."
You tilt your head, wondering just what other kind of fruit he has up his sleeve when already you've picked so many. Surely he's constrained even a little bit by the climate? Or does he have magically green thumbs? Jimin giggles at your confused expression.
"How good are you at climbing trees?"
The question gives you pause. "Uh... decent? I suppose?"
"Great!" Taehyung exclaims, picking his basket back up and closing the lid to help secure it on his back. "Let's go!"
Once more you're lead in between and through the trees and shrubs, following the gleeful lemur hybrid and his grinning companion back to the middle of the grove. Before long you're stumbling to a halt, having reached the location and wondering how on earth you managed to miss this tree before.
It's bigger than Ol' Bessy by a decent margin, but confusion filters through you when you can't seem to spot any fruit hanging from its branches. You turn to Taehyung, about to question him, but he simply grins and darts over to the massive trunk (really, you don't think two of you could hug it from either side and have your fingers touch, it's so big). It's only after he begins scaling it with alarming ease that you take note of the grooves and footholds curled into the trunk, making it a naturally perfect tree for climbing. Jimin darts up after his friend, apparently also well-versed in the art of climbing this tree, and breaks you from your awed reverie with a shout over his shoulder.
"Come on, y/n! Or Tae is gonna take the good spot!"
Unsure what he means and unsure if you're willing to find out via Taehyung following through on that, you scramble to follow after them and do your best to climb.
It's easier than anticipated, actually, and dare you say it... relaxing. Though you're going higher and higher with each branch you clear, and see less of the ground and more of the canopy with each step, you can't say you're all that scared, or worried. If anything, it's as though a moment of peace has been captured in a bubble, and now settles like cool mist on a spring morning at the bottom of your chest.
In sharp contrast to the cool breeze that brushes your face as you emerge from the thickest part of the foliage, the sun is quick to kiss warmth back into your cheeks. For a moment, you have to pause in your climb, because the view around you is simply so beautiful you're at an absolute loss for words.
From here, the highest point in the grove, you can see a vast majority of the island, a sweeping panorama of lush greens and soft sands that blend into the crystalline waters of the ocean, sunlight turning the surface to a sea of diamonds. Along the stretch of beach, in the distance, you can just barely glimpse the sharehouse, and on the other side of the island the little market square where all the stores and restaurants are appears as smudges and blobs of dark colours.
"It's so beautiful, right?"
You're so immersed in your observation that for a second you almost don't even register that someone is talking to you. Mouth open in awe, you simply turn your expression to Taehyung; the lemur laughs, almost tumbling back from the force of it, and you're shocked back into the moment with worry until you see what stopped him from falling.
Here, at the very top of the tallest tree in Taehyung's secret grove, he has built a small little fixture, a deck with enough space for four people to squeeze onto it at most. It hugs the trunk of the tree and is braced on the few thick branches that split from the tree beneath it. A lot of it is untouched, natural wood, but the bottom is made of processed planks and some of the short balcony ledge has been painted with acrylics, little scenes spanning the length of the strips. You didn't know Taehyung painted, but figure you'll bring it up at another time when you aren't precariously clinging to the top of a massive tree.
Taking the hand that both men offer you, you haul yourself carefully up and onto the deck, marvelling as you get an even clearer view of the island from your new position.
"It really is," you answer him, somewhat belatedly. When the two of them settle down, tree swaying much like you imagine a ship would on the vast expanse of the ocean, you follow suit, with your back pressed securely to the trunk.
Jimin is already flinging open his container, smacking it onto the wood in front of him, and Taehyung laughs once more, the sound so freeing and light that it makes that little bubble of peace in your abdomen expand ever so slightly.
"And now, we feast!" The lemur says, eagerly opening his own basket and setting it in front of him, besides Jimin's. They're both set to overflow from the amount of fresh, ripe fruit piled in.
They shamelessly and unabashedly dig in, eliciting a laugh from you as you move your own bag before you to do the same. It's nice, the perfect lunch in more ways than one; the small amount of foliage above you offers just enough shade that you want for nothing more in the moment besides maybe a pillow or two, everything else accounted for in excess.
You're not sure how long you spend there, but you do know that the sun has made a decent amount of headway in its journey across the sky by the time the three of you are done stuffing your stomachs full, laying across the deck and squinting until the clouds swimming leisurely across the sky begin to resemble something you can put a name to. It's fun, and light, and for what is alarmingly far from the first time, you find yourself so thankful for the choices you made and the path that led you here, to be staying on this beautiful island with these lovely boys.
By time you finish and the three of you are heading back, you’ve eaten through half of the fruit and the boys are so full and sleepy from the big day that they’ve shifted into their animal forms and are now clinging to you, Taehyung with his long limbs around your neck and Jimin with his tiny paws clinging to the hair at the top of your head. You suspect he’s made himself another little nest up there, but can’t find it in yourself to be upset with him for it especially when the soft sounds and chitters he makes to communicate with Taehyung are so damn cute.
The trip back is shorter than you recall, and before you know it you’re approaching the sharehouse once more, it’s looming sides graced with the warm gleam of afternoon sun. Jimin and Taehyung are asleep as you reach the front door, and you’re saved from having to move all the bags and baskets in your hold to open the door when it opens for you. Hoseok is standing there, a startled look gracing his features that quickly blends into one of fondness as he sees his friends, something that makes your cheeks warm ever so slightly.
“Good day?” he asks, stepping back to let you in. You nod, unable to help the wide grin touching your lips.
“Yeah, it was.”
O – O – O
‘…They should be setting up a tower soon, so hopefully it won’t be long before I can call you again. But until then, I look forward to every letter you send, bubbles.
Write back soon! I miss you.
Love, Dad’
You sniffle, trying not to let out the tears that are so close to slipping from your eyes. You’re not all that upset, you love receiving letters from your father, but it’s just… a little bittersweet. You’d moved here to escape your family, following a certain incident that you’re not keen to revisit, and your father had always been and will always be supportive of you— but it’s hard, when he’s halfway across the globe on one expedition or another.
It was only in the past ten years that your father managed to snag the job of his dreams and follow the passion he’s harboured since he was a child, graduating from his career as an accountant through attention garnered from numerous big research papers to become a well-respected biologist. From the second he accepted the offer, he’d started down a path that led him spending a majority of his life outside of the home and always on the move, hopping from one destination to another.
Whenever he could, he’d take you with him, but he wasn’t always able to. This expedition, which has landed him in the Antarctic, is an example of that. While he can’t be with you physically, he writes often and calls every chance he gets—and though it saddens you sometimes when it highlights the dismal state of the rest of your family, more than anything you’re happy for him and overjoyed that after years of slaving in an office, he finally gets to do what he wants.
You inhale, closing your eyes and trying to let the breath escape in a long, level manner. It’s night, not when you normally go about reading letters from your father but this letter had come late and you’d almost completely forgotten on your way to bed. Taking the opportunity to get some fresh air, you’d taken the letter and made yourself comfortable on the balcony, using the ample moonlight as a makeshift reading lamp.
Placing the letter carefully on the table, mindful not to place it in anything dirty or unsavoury, you settle back in your chair and tilt your gaze to the skies, allowing your eyes to become unfocused and simply stare. It's a pretty sight, as you expected-- the stars are much more outgoing here, with no haze or pollution masking their display like in the city on the mainland.
You let out a breath, but even to your ears it sounds more like a sigh. You miss your dad, and you know he misses you too but despite the fact you know it's selfish of you, you kind of wish he had been here with you when you made the decision to move. Of course, you've told him all about it, and he's supported you wholly in every choice you've made, but it's not the same. You don't blame him, and you love him dearly, but still... you're allowed to be sad, just a little. Just for tonight.
Well, that had been your plan-- apparently the universe has other ideas that don't include sulking in the moonlight on your balcony. A scuffling sound disturbs your reverie from the side of your balcony, and you look over in time to see a decent blob of shadow scaling up the side of the balcony next to yours and flinging onto the railing. Once there, it halts, and your eyes adjust just in time to meet those of the creature-- the raccoon, you realise quickly. It tilts its head up, sniffling the air once, before pinning you with an unreadable look. For a moment the two of you sit in silence, locked in place by the other's gaze, before the raccoon lets out a soft noise and then it's little claws are clacking against the hollow metal railing, and it disappears beyond the wall.
Whose room is that... Jungkook's? You muse to yourself for a moment before you remember what kind of hybrid Jungkook is, and in the next second there is the sound of a door sliding shut and Jungkook's bright-eyed face pops around the side of the wall.
"Uh... are you okay?"
You blink, brain taking a moment to catch up and then decipher how he could have possibly known you were even a little bit upset. You recall suddenly that animals can pick up cues, like chemoreceptors, and tilt your head at him with a small smile.
"Yeah... no... I'm alright." You angle yourself more towards him in your chair, cheering internally when you see him stop hiding behind the wall and come to lean against the railing. "Was that you? Where were you off to, this time of night?"
Jungkook looks like he wishes to address the first thing you said, but your follow-up has thrown him a bit for a loop. You can't be sure your eyes aren't deceiving you, but you could almost swear he's blushing.
"Oh, yeah... sorry." He reaches a hand up to rub the back of his neck, hair mussed and eyes averted. "I know my animal form isn't that nice... sorry if you thought it was gross."
"What?!"
At the sheer suddenness and volume of your almost-shriek, Jungkook jumps about a foot in the air. His wide eyes swing back to you, chest heaving as he rests his hand in the centre of it. You clear your throat, shrinking a bit in embarrassment.
"Sorry," you wince, before going to elaborate on your earlier squawk. "But please don't ever apologise for something like that! I don't know who told you that your animal form is gross, but they can't be all that bright... it was cute."
He looks more like a deer in headlights than the animal he's spliced with right now, eyes wide and staring right at you. You can't help but laugh and tease him, just a little. "Cutest raccoon I ever did see, anyway."
He suddenly comes back to earth, slamming his face into his hands and letting out a long groan. It's from embarrassment, you can tell from the flashes of reddened skin that peek through his fingers. You don't say anything for a moment, letting him return to the conversation on his own terms. Jungkook might be one of the housemates you've interacted with least, but you've heard plenty from the rest of the hybrids in the house.
More often than not, it's about how shy he is and how cute it is when he gets embarrassed. You'd simply nodded and laughed at the time, but now you realise there truly is merit to everything they said.
It takes a few moments of Jungkook muttering into his hands before he pulls his face away, averting his eyes and mumbling softly, "... Thanks. That's really nice of you to say."
"You're welcome," you shrug, smiling when he risks a glance your way to gauge your reaction. Upon seeing nothing that will make him turn tail and flee back into the safety of his room, he eases up, returning his body to it's previous angle towards you.
"So... why were you upset?"
Surprisingly, his question doesn't bother you as you thought it might. You hum, watching as his gaze follows yours to the table, where the letter and the envelope it came in, addressed to you, lay discarded.
"Letter from my dad," you offer in explanation, watching his eyes light in realisation. "Nothing bad, I just miss him so it's... bittersweet."
Jungkook hums, nodding and resting his chin in his hand as he leans forward. "I understand. It's like that with my parents. I know they love me, and I love them, but they're pretty far away and I just... miss them. They're always working."
You're a little surprised that he can relate, although you suppose you really shouldn't be. You don't know very much about Jungkook at all, so it's not fair of you to assume anything about him, even in relation to your own experiences.
"Yeah," you sigh, looking to the sky for a moment as you try and organise your thoughts. "I'm happy he is where he is, doing what he's doing, but I think it's okay to be sad, just for tonight."
Jungkook hums, but doesn't say anything further. It surprises you when he speaks next, the two of you having fallen into a lull.
"Well, you could keep being sad for the night if you want, or... would you maybe wanna see the film I've been working on?"
Your head whips to face him faster than the speed of light, startling him into another jump on the spot.
"Really?" you ask, hurried as though the offer will be rescinded at any moment. "You mean it? I can see it?"
"Yes...?" Jungkook answers, somewhat bewildered. You launch from your chair immediately, rubbing your hands together-- you've heard really good things from the others about his talents in photography and editing, so you've been trying to figure out a way to slip it into conversation for weeks. You've wanted to see them for yourself so badly.
"I'm coming over," you announce, gathering the letter and envelope and already beginning to move towards your room. "I hope your room is clean, Jungkook, or else I'm gonna tease you!"
You'd just meant it as a joke, but the scrambling and hurried footsteps you hear after you say it make you think he took you seriously.
Well, you dad would probably want you to spend the night happy, anyway. You can save being sad for another night.
O -- O -- O
Your time at the house has gone by much faster than you anticipated, and while initially you'd thought that you wouldn't be able to wait to get out, now you find yourself feeling quite the opposite.
You kind of don't want to leave.
At this point, about two months into your stay, you've settled into such a comfortable, stable routine that you struggle to imagine going through the motions in any other way. Often after your early shifts you'll return to the house and catch someone lounging in the sun, and you will no doubt be roped into a short, sweet afternoon nap. On the weekends is group breakfast, and you make sure that you go to bed as early as possible the nights before so that you don't miss it. Taehyung drags you with him of a weekend to fetch fruit and Jimin drags you around the town in general. Some evenings, you find yourself accompanying Namjoon on a walk along the beach, both of you feeling more at peace than ever before when you're standing with feet buried in the sand, watching dusk bleed into twilight and the colours around you stain violet and periwrinkle in the absence of the sun's kiss.
Jungkook knocks on your door at late hours, grinning and eagerly summoning you to his room to watch his latest creation. Seokjin no longer resists your help every other night to make lunches, and has started including you in the schedule as well.
Yoongi and Hoseok are among the busier residents of the house, but you've still spent bits of time with each of them, probably moreso with Hoseok. It's not that you avoid Yoongi or anything like that, it's just that he happens to be the most busy and more often than not is holed up in his room. You don't always see him throughout the week, but he always attends house breakfast on weekends and you're thankful that you get to see him then.
Today, you're spending a little more time with Hoseok. Your shift ended early and you couldn't have thanked your lucky stars any harder, because today the squirrel hybrid had invited you to his dance class. Usually Jungkook or Jimin went with him, both of them enjoying dance as much as their older housemate, but they had both been unavailable today. You'd seen the way Hoseok's face had fallen when they'd told him, and had immediately asked about the class-- you didn't even talk for more than a few minutes before Hoseok was happily inviting you to attend.
It made you a little more pleased than you're going to admit.
You're on your way there now, actually, a skip in your step and a swing in your gait. You've got the tote bag you hold your work things in, and you can hear the rustling of the nuts you'd shoved in there last minute earlier in the day. You'd noticed that Hoseok had forgotten them, so you'd grabbed them to give to him when you saw him. Hopefully he hasn't stuffed himself too full of other foods in the meantime, though from what you've heard apparently he's such a workaholic that he probably hasn't even had lunch yet despite the fact it's currently three in the afternoon.
A majority of Hoseok's classes take place at the school where he teaches, in a room at the end of the drama block that often doubles as a dance classroom when the school gets the funding for it. When you arrive, the door is slightly ajar and upbeat pop is leaking through the gap, Hoseok's sunny voice piercing through the music like a pendulum.
"--and one, two, three, one, two, three-- that's it! That's fantastic! Really good job, guys!"
A smile is already on your face as you push the door open enough to let yourself in, gaze immediately falling upon a group of grinning children that are looking up at Hoseok like they're a tiny field of sunflowers facing their namesake. Hoseok stands before them in a borderline comical pose that only primary school teachers can really pull off, hands on his hips and a proud, beaming smile on his face. You can’t help but blink because for a moment it really was as blinding as looking directly at the sun. He spots you before you can recover fully, and greets you with a wave.
“Ah, perfect! Everyone, this is Miss y/n! She’s going to be sitting in today—I told her how good you all were and she couldn’t wait to see for herself. Let’s all say hello!”
A chorus of greetings is immediately thrown at you, the attention of the little sunflowers now completely on you. Some gasp and run over, grinning brightly at the novelty of a new character, and others watch from afar but seem pleased nonetheless by your presence and alleged eagerness to see them perform.
Before they can launch into conversation with you like you can so clearly see they want to, the ears of some kids ramrod straight and alert and others’ tails flicking in excitement, Hoseok calls them back to where he stands and to your surprise they obey immediately.
“Alright, let’s let Miss y/n get settled down and we can show her what we’ve been practicing, hm? Sound good?”
There is a chorus of ‘yes!’ that pulls a laugh from you as you make your way to the side of the room with the best view and plop down, cross-legged. Eagerly and very self-consciously, now that they have an audience, the small army of children runs to take their place in the formation, and Hoseok pulls his phone from his pocket to pause the song currently playing and pull up the one that matches their routine.
The opening notes filter into the air and Hoseok nods, foot tapping to the beat, before he counts them in and off they go.
Put simply, you’re so incredibly impressed. These kids can dance! You don’t have a doubt that they can dance better than you, not that you ever claimed to have much talent in that department. By the time they finish running through their little routine, you’re clapping and cheering loudly, relishing in the laughter that you’re exaggerated reaction elicits. Hoseok, too, is smiling as he sees how you interact with his students, wandering over after he takes them through it a few more times before giving them a small break.
"So, what do you think?" he asks as he approaches your side of the room, slightly out of breath from doing the routine with them the last few times. "They're so good, aren't they? They've only been working on this for a few weeks and already they have it almost perfectly down-pat. I'm so proud of them."
He slides down the wall next to you, reaching for the bag he'd dropped there presumably before class began; across the room all the students are reaching into their class backpacks for their afternoon snack, and it seems Hoseok has the same idea. You don't even remember the nuts in your bag until he rifles through his for a few minutes, brows furrowed when he comes up empty. His bushy tail flicks dejectedly, ears twitching back on his head, and he pouts.
"Damn, I think I forgot my lunch this morning," he says, and it's enough to jog your memory. You jump in place from the startle of it.
"Oh, I saw that! Here," you quickly reach into your own bag and pull out the nuts and dried fruits, passing it over to him. "I brought it for you, since I figured you'd probably want it at some point."
The way Hoseok's eyes light up when they see the little plastic bag in your hand is almost enough to make you laugh and/or coo out loud. By the skin of your teeth you barely manage to hold that reaction back, but you do smile as he cheers with a short, happy scream and eagerly takes it from your grip.
"My nuts!" Hoseok wastes no time ripping the bag open and grabbing a handful, setting about munching immediately. "You have saved my life today, Miss y/n. I was soooo hungry."
"Didn't get lunch?" you guess, already knowing the answer and having it confirmed when Hoseok nods, completely unfazed by the fact he'd skipped a meal or two.
"I was helping one of the students," he explains, munching happily. His bushy tails curls in content behind him, a sight that makes something happy and warm settle in your chest. "I don't mind missing lunch if it means they get the help they need. I do feel it afterwards, though. Sometimes when I get home I feel so hungry I could eat the whole cupboard out."
A laugh tears from you at his words, the image even funnier because he didn't specify whether he would be doing it in his human form or his animal form. The image of a squirrel wreaking havoc in the house pantry is funnier than you care to admit, but Hoseok just seems happy to have elicited a laugh no matter the magnitude.
It's just a small thing, spending the afternoon with Hoseok and his students, but you find afterwards that it was almost... healing. On the way home, walking besides Hoseok and discussing which dried fruit were the superior dried fruit (he's wrong, and you'll take that opinion with you to the grave), you can't help but feel so light and happy. Like everything is in place, in motion and flowing smoothly. A river without debris and jagged rocks; life right now feels like that moment in nature when water runs over smooth pebbles in a creek, tumbling and pouring but doing so without chaos, and without mess or fallout. Just one continuous, fluid motion.
It feels nice.
You don't even realise until you're laying in bed that night that for a while now, that's how you've been referring to this place.
As home.
O -- O -- O
Aside from the occasional uncomfortable dream, these past few months have been remarkably incident-free, where it concerns the unfortunate topic of your extended family. You'd changed a lot of things when you'd made the decision to move to this island; your phone number, your email addresses and all your passwords, your social media... all of it had been combed through and either switched out or slimmed down. This place is an escape, a place of refuge for you, and that's how you want it to stay.
Unfortunately, the universe isn't always on your side.
It's a rainy afternoon when you receive the call, and you're so fixated on watching the way the rain falls in thin sheets over the ocean that at first from the first floor patio, that you miss it. They don't call again, but a message sets your phone off a minute or so later, and that catches your attention.
Of course, the second you read it and see who it's from, it does more than just catch your attention.
You're not someone prone to many episodes, and you've become adept at self-soothing. But as your eyes begin to stare unfocused at the message and you feel your chest constrict, diaphragm pushing against your lungs, you realise distantly that this is more than you just being momentarily overwhelmed.
You get a bit lost in the moment, lost in the sensation of light-headedness that suddenly washes over you, so much so that when a voice sounds distantly, muffled as though you're listening to someone speak to you from the depths of a pool, you barely even register it at first.
"Hey, y/n, have you seen--"
Still, your eyes are stuck on the message; you don't even notice the way your fingers had begun to tremble while holding the phone until a hand brushes your arm, a figure in front of you blocking the light from beyond the porch.
"y/n, hey, are you.... look at me. y/n, look at me."
Oh, that's a voice, and you do as it says without even a single thought flitting through your head. Looking up, you're barely even as surprised as you should be to see Yoongi standing there, a look of concern spread across his features, brows drawn together as he regards you. You feel a warm touch against your hand, phone tugged from your grip to be replaced with his own. Both your hands are now in his hold and he uses it to ground you, even if just for a moment.
"Can you do me a favour?" Yoongi says, and his voice is so soft and soothing that you find yourself listening as attentively as you can right now. "I need you to breathe with me. I'm gonna count ten breaths, okay? Let's do the first one-- in..."
He inhales deeply, his whole chest moving from the magnitude of it, and you feel as though you're floating in your own head in the moment as you follow suit. Slowly, patiently, he takes you through each breath one at a time, making sure you inhale as big as he does and exhale as long as he does. By the time you reach ten, the light-headed feeling has faded and the constriction in your chest has eased, ever so slightly. As soon as you finish your tenth breath you sag slightly, letting out a gush of air.
"Sorry," you say, slipping one of your hands from his grip to cover your face. "Sorry, I just--"
To your complete and utter surprise, Yoongi's hand lets your other one go and in the next moment you feel arms slipping around your shoulders, bringing you close to his chest and letting your face rest on his shoulder. You see his fluffy tail from where your face is squished, catching glimpses over his shoulder of the way it curls calmly.
Once the moment of shock passes, you're unable to help yourself but to return the embrace, surprised by how much you needed this without even knowing so.
"It's okay, don't apologise," Yoongi says, voice still soft and calm. You sag against him, and your eyes burn not from the message that triggered your almost anxiety-attack, but from the sheer kindness you feel emanating from this man. "Happens to the best of us. Are you feeling a little better?"
You nod, because oddly enough you are, and he slowly releases his hold on you, easing back with an assessing look. Another apology rests on the tip of your tongue but you bite it back, knowing he would refuse it if it ever entered the air.
“I am. Thanks,” you say, eyes looking for your phone as you realise suddenly that it is no longer in your hand where you’d left it. Yoongi holds it up, handing it back easily; his gaze passes over the screen as he does so, and the look he gives you is one of empathy and knowing.
“Shitty family?” he inquires, and you nod, choosing not to look at your phone and to slip it straight into your pocket instead. You go to sit against the wall, facing the edge of the patio, and he joins you.
“I get it,” he says, lifting a hand to fluff up his grey-tinted hair before shifting his gaze out to the rain and its reunion with the ocean. “’Part from my parents, the rest of my… relatives… they’re, uh… they’re not so nice. Didn’t treat me all that well, or even my parents for that matter. So… I get it. You don’t have to elaborate if you don’t wanna, but I get it.”
You don’t really know what to say to that; not that you’re speechless, per se, but moreso that there is simply so much going through your head at once that you can’t seem to settle on anything to voice.
“Thank you,” you say again, sniffling as subtly as you can as you focus on evening your breaths and calming your heart. You feel something on your hand and look over to see Yoongi has placed his palm over your own, his face soft and comforting.
“It’s no problem.”
A different kind of ache, the sort that is tinged around the edges with bittersweet warmth, begins to make itself known amongst the turmoil in your abdomen, and in this moment you can’t quite decipher whether it’s a good feeling or a bad one. What you do know, though, is that you’ve never been more thankful to have had the fortune of meeting these boys and having them make room in their hearts for you, even just a little, than you are right now.
O – O – O
You can’t believe that all the time you’ve spent here has gone so fast, and that currently there is no more than a week before your three month deadline is up and your contracted stay at this house is to come to an end.
If you’re being honest with yourself… you don’t want to go.
When you’d first come to this house, you’d expected that you would have a nice time, but also that you would be eager to move out by the end of the three month period. You had no way of knowing how well you’d fall into routine here, how attached you would become not only to the residents but to the home, the place and the feeling it offers and the way it allows you to feel happier than you have in years.
You know that you have to leave, they’d only agreed to house you for the three months after all, and you also know that they seem to have realised your time here is coming to an end as well. You’ve caught them talking amongst themselves a few times, not quite whispering but definitely conversing about something that halts as soon as they catch wind of you anywhere nearby. You get the sense that they’re unsure how to approach the topic, and you understand since it’s a bit tough for you yourself. You decide to bite the bullet and do it for them, though.
You ask them to meet you in the living area, a week before you leave, to talk. You wanted to just… officially thank them, you suppose. They’ve done a lot for you, in the time you’ve been here, whether they realise it or not. They’ve helped you settle, they’ve shown you that there really is more to life outside the misery your relatives tended to create, and they’ve ensured every second you’ve been with them that you have felt welcomed, and included.
Truthfully, it means more to you than you know how to put into words.
Which is why it’s especially difficult for you to accept that you have to leave.
The expressions on their faces as they gather are a mixture between curious and somewhat apprehensive, with Namjoon, Jungkook and Hoseok bordering on nervous. You wonder why before realising they might not know why you called them here.
“Hey, thanks for gathering,” you say, attempting to keep it light and ensure the smile stays on your face. Of course, they all return is as they take seats across the room, some on the couch and others on the coffee table or the floor. Taehyung’s head tilts, tail curling lightly behind him.
“Um, I just wanted to say something to you—to all of you, while I could. I didn’t think I’d be able to catch everyone in the one room any time but on the weekend,” you muse, smile widening at the round of light laughter your joke elicits. You shift, taking a breath and grounding yourself through the motion of meeting their gazes, one by one.
“I wanted to say thank you,” you begin, voice softer than intended but not so soft that you’re worried their senses won’t pick it up. “Because when I moved here it was to get away, and start anew, and you guys… really gave me that. You’ve made these three months the best and happiest months I’ve had in a long time. I’m so thankful that you let me in, and welcomed me into your home and even into your lives. I don’t think I can word this the way I want to but… really. Thank you, so much. I know I have to leave in a week, but—”
“Oh!”
You halt mid-spiel, wide eyes moving to Taehyung as he suddenly sits up, holding his hands out. “So that’s what you wanted to talk to us about—we actually wanted to talk to you about something, too.”
Freezing, you simply blink, mind coming up blank as to what they could possibly want to talk to you about. Namjoon clears his throat when no one else follows up after Taehyung, averting his eyes before he gathers himself and meeting your confused look. “Well, you probably noticed we’ve been talking amongst ourselves a lot lately—I mean, I know you’ve noticed because you’ve walked in on us a few times, and we’re not very good at being subtle, but—”
“We want to know if you’d like to stay here—permanently.” Taehyung cuts his friend off before he can finish, apparently no longer able to hold the question at bay. There is an expression of pure, unguarded sincerity on his face, excitement lighting in his eyes. “We all talked it out and found that we want you to stay—all of us.”
“You fit,” Yoongi says suddenly, voice still soft but loud enough for you to catch easily. He offers you a gentle smile when you look his way. “We know that if you left, the house wouldn’t be the same after… it would be missing something. You haven’t been here long, but you’re kind of already part of our family so… please don’t go, if you don’t want to.”
Some of the others are pinning Yoongi with a surprised look that you suspect is not directed at what he said, but rather the fact that he said it. You’re too busy biting your lip and trying not to cry like a baby to notice all that much.
“Is that really okay?” you ask, déjà vu washing over you as you think to yourself that again, this sounds too good to be true. “Do you guys really want me to stay?”
Immediately, there is a mixture of nods and loud ‘Yes!’s and ‘Of course!’. You really can’t hold it back, you find, because the sudden flood of warmth and affection washing over your insides is more than you know how to handle. You sniff, unable to reach the tears fast enough to prevent their fall down your face.
“Will you stay?” Yoongi asks, head tilted. Regrettably, his tenderness makes more tears fall.
“Yeah,” you manage, wiping your face furiously, “Yeah, I will. Thank you.”
And that’s all the confirmation you need before your new family is tackling you one by one, replacing your sobs with laughter and making sure you know that from now on, you don’t have to cry alone, you don’t have to be sad alone. They’re here for you.
And it feels so, so nice.
Tumblr media
a/n: thank you so much for reading! please let me know what you think and how it made u feel, and let me know u enjoyed it by liking and reblogging! feel free to even just send me an ask screaming! thank u! i love u !
2K notes · View notes
randofics · 2 years ago
Text
Fox in the hen house
Cat burglar Tony & Southern reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
This is just a random short story I came up with. Alternate reality Tony thats a cat burglar. It's more of a funny one. I hope yall enjoy this little story! Also I put in a cameo of my rooster Tulip!
Tony thought he'd found an easy steal, oh how wrong he'd been. The small ranch he thought just kept horses, had a couple large bulls in separate pens aswell. He'd been just a few feet from certain trampling by an exceptionally large and aggressive black mottled bull. He'd been jumping the fences to get to the house when the bull started chasing him. After he fell over the fence into the dirt he looked back at the animal. It let out a loud call as if asserting that this paddock was his territory. The ski mask he was wearing was hard enough for him to breath in normally so as he tried to catch his breath he yanked the thick fabric off leaving his hair a mess.
He got up dusting himself off and he flipped off the huffing bull. It just yelled at him again and he winced looking up the hill at the dark house. He waited a moment watching for any lights or movement inside but he didn't see anything. He sighed in relief and continued on his way to the house. Suddenly a flurry of feathers hit him in the face and sharp claws scratched his skin. He pushed the animal off and got a glimpse of the bird attacking him. It was a big rooster with exceptionally long tail feathers and long spurs. It screeched as it flew at him again. Sharp pain bloomed on his cheek after receiving a slap by its wing and a small gash appeared on his arm from one of its spurs. He kicked it off and ran around the side of the house. The bird didn't follow him and he slid down the wall catching his breath again.
Suddenly he realized his mask was missing. He patted himself down looking for it and cursed when he realized the rooster made him drop it. This just wasn't his night it seemed. He hoped he'd have better luck inside this place. Looking up he realized there was a window above him and he grinned. He stood and tried to push it open. It actually worked and he quietly slipped inside. He landed on the hallway floor which he thanked whatever gods could hear him that it was carpet. When he cased the place he hadn't seen a dog at all but he'd be careful just in case. Very slowly he walked down the hall. There were four doors, two on each side. The one on his right was a kids bedroom which was left open and no one was inside.
He skipped over it and looked to his left. A bathroom which just had the usual bathroom stuff. He checked the cabinet anyways but nothing he wanted was inside. Moving on he checked the next room on the left. Another bedroom but this one seemed to be a guest room as it was too neat and tidy to have been regularly used. Checking the next room he found the door open and inside was a girls room, or at least what he thought was a girls room. The contrast in pink and more boyish stuff confused him a bit. But movement in the bed caught his attention and he froze. It was dark so he had a hard time seeing who or what was in the bed. A cat stood stretching and jumped down but as soon as it saw him it hissed and clambered back onto the bed disturbing whoever was there. The sleepy voice of a girl met his ears and he stepped sideways hiding against the hallway wall.
"Cat what in the world has you so spooked." The bed creaked as you sat up. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness and you could see your cat looking at the doorway it's back arched and tail poofed up. The sight had you spooked too and you as quietly as possible got out of bed and grabbed your baseball bat. You looked into the hall at an angle that you could see anyone up against the wall right next to the doorframe. You spotted the edge of a dark body and prepared to jump into the hall. You jumped out and swung at the intruder hitting him in the arm. He held the spot you hit and bolted into the living room. You flicked on the hall light so you could see and saw him run into the kitchen. You slipped back into your room and grabbed your phone and the lasso off your wall slinging it over your shoulder.
He hadn't expected you to just have a bat in your room so when you jumped out swinging all he could do was protect his face. He'd ran into the kitchen to possibly get out and spotted the rooster on the porch. He could either stay and go up against you or brave the attack rooster and who knows what other animals were lurking outside. The loud barking of a dog caught his attention and he spotted the crate in the corner. The medium sized dog snarled and growled at him and he shoved open the screen door. The rooster flew at him again as he fled and you released your dog. You ran after him and prepared to lasso him. Your dog was on his heels and you slung the rope around him yanking him off his feet. Quickly you jumped him and tied him up as your dog pulled on his pants. "Let me go!" He struggled in the tight bindings as you stood over him. "You thought it was a good idea to steal from a ranch of all places huh? For somebody wearing glasses you're pretty dumb." The rooster came running down the path and flogged him again. He yelled in pain as he got another claw to the face. The bird was snatched up and held by you like a football. The aggressive feather duster struggled for a moment before relaxing in your arms. You stroked its head as it panted from running so far. "Heh fox in the hen house buddy. You don't mess with the master and her guard animals." You pulled out your phone and dialed 911 talking to the dispatcher.
When the cops got there and saw the strange scene they started to laugh hysterically. Once you told them how he'd ended up like that they laughed even harder. You had security footage of the whole thing and they took a copy with them. You waved smugly to the guy as they loaded him into the police cruiser. He gave you a glare and you shoved your rooster at him making him fall back into the seat. They shut the door and said goodbye. You laughed as you took the rooster back to the coop placing him on the perch with his hens. "I suppose it was a good thing I left your door open tonight huh?" The chatter of your birds made you smile and you locked them up. "Let's go back to bed pupper." Your dog happily walked with you back into the house and you went back to bed.
3 notes · View notes
animeangst · 4 years ago
Text
One More Time
╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮
𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: Zeke x Reader
𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: Angst Oneshot
𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Major Character Death, Manga Spoilers, Graphic Depictions of Violence, starts off with fluff, angst ending, Marlyean!Reader
𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 3.1k
╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯
This for the Reiner and Zeke birthday collab with @saccharine-darling
So this is my first collab!!! Very exciting! It is for my lovely husband's birthday so of course I am going to be dishing out the feels!
I thought it would be interesting to explore a Marlyean!Reader. I see a lot of Paradis focused content and I thought it would be cool to see it from the other side.
This does contain Season 4 spoilers! Manga Spoilers at the end that will be tagged so if you aren't caught up you can read until that part
---
You woke up in the War Chief's bed like usual. The soft covers shielding your naked body from the cold air in the room. Zeke however was missing. You figured he had gotten up early to work on the plans for the next advancement for Marley.
You were crawling out of bed gripping the covers to your body when you heard a knock at the door. You didn’t say anything hoping the person would just leave. However, Porco opened the door.
“Oh, y/n.” He said unfazed. Your half lidded eyes met his; thankfully the covers were shielding your tired body from Porco’s harsh gaze. The two of you didn’t move a muscle, both filled with an awkwardness neither of you knew how to handle
“What do you need?” You asked quietly, the embarrassment starting to catch up to you.
“Well just tell Zeke I need to talk to him.” Porco replied; with that he left, closing the door behind him. You let out a sigh as you dropped the sheets from your body allowing yourself to get dressed in last night’s clothing.
The walk home from Zeke’s room in the command building was familiar. You have known him practically your whole life, and it was pretty much fate that you ended up together. You have come to know all of the Warriors in the time you have known Zeke. They spend most days together, and when they are not doing great things for Marley you get to spend time with the great heroes as well.
You were grateful to be able to be an Honorary Marlyean due to your relationship with Zeke. He had proposed last year, but with the war going on up until recently there was no time to get married.
Tonight was going to be the Festival! You had been looking forward to this for weeks. You hoped that there would be time other than nights for you and Zeke to be together. You had gotten to your own small apartment that you shared with Zeke, or well when he is not at the command building.
In reality it was just your apartment, nothing fancy. You walked over to your small table, by the window. There was a wilting flower that Zeke had brought to you when he got back from the War effort. You smiled, not only was he a great Warrior, he thought about you while he was gone.
You tidied up the stack of letters, and took the flower from the vase. You took a book from the shelf and placed the flower inside. The book was practically overflowing with press flowers. You were unable to let yourself throw them away. Anything that Zeke sent you was precious.
You got dressed for the day, you fixed your red armband to your left arm and brushed your clothing down. You adorned some of your finer clothing for the festival. You looked at yourself in the mirror as you fixed your hair.
You heard the lock on the front door turnover as you walked out of the room. Your heart swelled as you saw Zeke come inside, he walked over to you enveloping you in a strong hug. He was wearing his normal military uniform, which you expected; he looked great. You smiled up at him, breaking away from the hug. He held out his arm for you to grab.
“Well let’s get going, y/n.” He walked with you, leading you down towards the street. “We have lots to do before tonight.”
Zeke brought you to the festival. The streets are packed with Marleyans and Eldians alike. There were different stalls sporting trinkets and food. It looked magical. You have never seen anything like this before. The excitement bubbled over in you like a little kid. You saw the Warrior candidates run past you, Reiner trailing behind them.
“On babysitting duty, Reiner?” You asked playfully. He gave you a weak smile, his eyes looked tired.
“You could say that.” He mumbled. You could hear the kids calling his name in the distance. “I think I’m needed up there.” He walked away, the candidates flocking around him like little birds.
“That could be you one day.” Zeke whispered into your ear. You chuckled, blushing slightly.
“Let’s worry about getting married first, huh?” You retorted. Zeke gave your hand a squeeze; he led you to a stall selling small glass animals. You were quick to pick up one that looked like a monkey to show your fiance.
“Is that all you think of me, y/n?” Zeke asked dramatically. You chuckled.
“Well you are the greatest beast titan in our history, so… yes!” Zeke sighed, shaking his head. He too looked over the little figurines.
“And you, my dear y/n” He picked up a small figure of a cat. “Are a scared little kitten.”
“Hey I’m not scared!” You interjected. “I have you to protect me.” You looked up at Zeke, he was right. You were a scared kitten, but you had Zeke and that was enough to make you feel better in any situation.
“You know I’ll always be on your side.” Zeke said lovingly pushing a stray hair behind your ear.
“Of course, Zeke. I love you.” You looked up at him. He gave you a gentle kiss, his warm lips on yours. He held you gently as if you were one of the glass figurines, and even the slightest touch could shatter you.
“You know, y/n.” Zeke looked at you, squeezing your hand. “Since the war is over, we can actually get married.” Your heart swelled, he was right. The two of you had practically planned the whole thing in the letters you two sent to each other. Zeke pulled you into a hug, his strong arms enveloping you in his warmth. He smelled slightly of cigarettes and coffee, something you have come to love.
“There are just a few more things I need to attend to. Then I am all yours for the rest of my time.” Zeke said, faltering a bit on his last words. Zeke didn’t have much time left, but that didn’t matter to you. You were always Zeke’s from the beginning. You knew that there was a time limit between you and him, but no matter what you love for him would not expire.
“I’ll always be here. I can wait a little longer.” You laugh looking up into his eyes. He smiles down at you, his hand brushing your cheek.
“You know, I wish I could ask you to marry me all over again.” He placed his forehead on yours. “Your reaction will be burned into my memory forever.
He was right, it was quite the reaction. You couldn’t stop sobbing and Zeke thought he had upset you. When all you could do was nod your head yes and run into his arms, he knew that he made the right decision.
You looked down at your matching rings, very simple silver bands. You could see the tan line on Zeke’s finger from where his ring normally sat. You don’t believe that he has taken it off since he had put it on, same with you. There was always a piece of one with the other.
Zeke walked off from this booth and went on to the second, and the third and the fourth. The two of you walked through the whole festival eating snacks along the way. You were stuffed by the time the sun was setting.
“Today was amazing!” You exclaimed. “I wish we could do this everyday.” You let out a deep sigh.
“Maybe we can.” Zeke said quietly, now in thought. You looked up at him in wonder.
“You really think they would let us?” You asked excitedly. Zeke smiled down at you.
“I think so.” He whispered into your ear, giving you a gentle kiss on your temple. “Come now, let's go get good seats.
The sun was set by the time you walked over towards the stage. There were so many chairs layed out for the show, and you were becoming more and more excited.
“Oh I see the other warriors, let's go sit with them!” You said, starting to walk over.
“No.” Zeke interjected, grabbing your hand. “Let’s sit near the back, just the two of us.” He smiled at you, and that you did. You found two open seats near the back of the section. Zeke placing his hand in your lap.
You both waited patiently for the show to start. You saw Willy Tyber take his place up on the stage. You also saw Reiner and Falco leave.
“I wonder, where are they going?” You whispered to Zeke.
“Hmm, I don’t know.” He replied. “I have to go to the bathroom, wait here.” Zeke said. Before you could stop him, Zeke had gotten up and left. You watched the show happening in front of you hearing about the “true history” of Eldia.
You thought it was just a bunch of hogwash, that was until you were knocked from your seat, large pieces of the adjacent building narrowly missing you. All you could do was run for your life. You had no idea what was happening, or what had happened. Your legs carried you without thinking into an ally.
You could hear a titan’s ear piercing roar; it felt as if your eardrums had burst. You covered your ears and peaked around the corner to see who you assumed was Eren Jaeger.
This was all his fault.
All you could hope for was that the Warriors would take care of him. You wondered where they were; you wonder where Reiner and Falco went off too.
You continued up the ally, hoping to get further away from the destruction behind you. You heard an unfamiliar whirring above you. You looked up to see people flying above the buildings. Ropes attaching them and pulling them through the air. You had heard stories from Reiner about this gear, it was from the island of devils.
You could see someone land on the roof above you, a tall man with a goatee and medium length hair. You looked up at him, fear apparent on your face. You figured he would kill you, but instead he did a “shooing” motion urging you to continue running in the direction you were heading. Which you did, your legs working on their own dragging you to somewhere hopefully safe.
Your heart pounded, you heard screams and crashing behind you. Your ears still ringing from the screeching of the titan battle. All you could think of was, Zeke. How you hoped that he was okay, he would save you. Zeke was the strongest man you knew, you held out hope that he would find you.
You rounded a corner, there you saw Zeke’s crumpled titan form. You ran towards it, calling out for him desperately. You could see a man with short black hair, and that fancy gear the other enemies were wearing. The man cut Zeke out of his titan.
“Wake up, Zeke.” You screamed, stumbling as you tried to rush to his aide. The loud clashing of the titans behind you made it impossible for them to hear you. It looked as if they were talking, the man was giving a disapproving glare at Zeke. If you didn’t know any better you would even think that they knew each other.
You finally made it to where you could hear their conversation. The raven haired man hadn’t noticed you, nor had Zeke.
“I hope you like what your plan caused.” The man said to Zeke.
Your plan?
“Well I didn’t account for everything of course.” Zeke replied, the steam of his healing obscuring his face.
“Zeke?” You whimpered out. Both Zeke and the raven haired man whipped their heads around to you. You were standing there gripping at your jacket, which was covered in dirt and blood. You were barely able to stand, your injuries as well as the exhaustion was catching up to you.
“What did he mean by your plan?” You questioned, stumbling in his direction. “He’s lying right? Just like a devil would.”
You stifle a laugh. This had to be a joke; this man, whoever he was, must have manipulated Zeke.
“See, I didn’t account for everything.” Zeke said to the man.
“Who is that?” The man asked disinterestedly. He looked at you like you were a speck of dirt.
“That, Levi, was my fiance.” Zeke sneered, looking at you down his nose.
“Was?” You looked up with pleading eyes. “No matter what, Zeke. I’m on your side.” You tried to climb up to where they were standing. “Please, he’s lying to you.” You slipped, falling back onto the rubble below you.
“Y/n.” Zeke cooed. “It’s alright, everything will be alright.” He came down to meet you, taking your face in his hands. Levi came down with him and let out a ‘tch’ sound.
“Let’s go Furrball.” He commanded. Zeke helped you up, and practically dragged you inside the building.
“Where are you taking me?” You questioned, you were practically shaking in your boots. Everything was happening so fast and there was so much you didn’t understand.
“Hush, y/n.” Zeke whispered, squeezing your shoulder to calm you. “I’ll explain on the airship.” Air ship? Were you being kidnapped?
“No!” You shouted, wiggling out of Zeke’s grasp. If looks could kill, Levi’s death glare would have been the end of you. “What is happening? What about Marley and the other Warriors? They need you Zeke, you need to defeat Eren Jaeger.”
“Move.” Levi commended, Zeke hoisted you up, not acknowledging your questions. He carried you to the roof of the building, you were too exhausted to fight back.
“Please, Zeke.” You whined. “What is happening?”
Zeke placed you down, you could see an airship in the distance following lights placed on the buildings. There were fires everywhere, buildings were destroyed.
“I can’t say everything right here, but if you just come with us I can explain the whole thing.” Zeke said, rubbing your shoulders.
“I can’t!” You scream. “I’ve been a good Marleyan, I can’t just go with them.”
“Y/n, it’s not what you think.” Zeke said lightly, trying to get you to calm down.
“Whatever you are doing, I bet it’s him controlling you.” You pointed at Levi, he looked unamused with your accusation.
“We can’t take her with us.” Levi said sternly. Zeke sighed.
“No, y/n. It’s not like that.” Zeke shook his head. You wiggled out of his grasp, he frowned. You could see the cogs turning in his head, trying to find the right words. “You just don’t know the whole truth. I know you don’t want to hear it, but please know that I love you, y/n”
Zeke pulled you in for a kiss, you could feel all of his emotions through it. His love, his sadness, his anger. He held you, as if he never wanted to let you go. Zeke broke away, leaving you breathless.
“Wait for me, y/n.” He whispered. “I know you’re a good Honorary Marlyean, but you mustn't tell anyone what happened here or about me.” He had crouched down slightly to look into his eyes, you could see he was very serious.
“I won’t, Zeke.” You muttered, it was the only thing you really could say. In reality you have no idea what is going on, but it may be worse if you did. “I’ll wait.” You looked into his eyes, determination shining in yours.
“Good.” Zeke smiled standing up. You could feel Levi’s eyes burning a hole in the back of your head. “I love you.” Zeke said, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“I love you, too.”
Zeke grabbed your hand and kissed the ring on your finger.
“Don’t you dare forget me.” Zeke chuckled.
“Never.” You replied. “You’ll be back, I know it.” With that Levi started to drag Zeke away, the large airship closer now, almost to the building. You saw Levi latch onto the railing with his special gear, and dragged Zeke with him.
You ran back down to the street. Everything seemed to have died down. You looked for anyone you may know to get you out of here.
“Y/n!” You heard behind you. Reiner came up to you, he looked awful. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
He took you, his arm around your shoulders gently coaxing you to walk with him. You looked up, seeing the airship fly away. All you could do was watch as yet again Zeke left once more.
---
You had waited for a month now. You were starting to think that Zeke was never coming back. The warriors had left for the Island a bit ago, and you hoped that they would send word about him.
You sat in your normal spot by the window, placing your coffee down on the table. You were often here, hoping to see Zeke come home. It was really all you could do.
You were about to take another sip as ripples formed in the smooth dark liquid. You could see dust flying through the air, and there was a slight shake to the ground. You looked around wildly, the only thing that you knew could do this would be a Titan.
You dropped your coffee, the mug shattering on the ground as you ran down to the street. There you could see it, tons of 50 meter titans walking steadily in your direction. You were frozen with fear, there was nothing you could do.
You just hoped that Zeke would be here soon, but he wasn’t. You knew that running away would be fruitless. You were not able to move from the spot on the street out of fear. Others scrambled to get away, pushing you around.
Something inside of you told you to stay, that this was how you would see Zeke again. You couldn’t help but stare up at the titans coming your way. This was the first time you were truly able to see them. The titan shifters looked nothing like these terrifying beasts.
You almost felt bad for the Devils that had been tortured by these monsters for all these years. The stories of them from Reiner fill your mind.
Reiner, I wonder if he’s okay
You closed your eyes, accepting your fate. The ground shaking beneath you. You weren’t scared anymore, you could barely feel your own body. You felt weightless. The last thing you remembered was Zeke, kissing you goodbye for the last time. All you hoped for was to see him, just one more time.
101 notes · View notes
solar-bean · 4 years ago
Text
 Grimmjow Headcanons Plus a Few x S/O ones 
( pretty sure I read some of these somewhere but I forgot so here's a self indulgent list :)
Tumblr media
He died in his early twenties so he's still pretty young mentally but physically as a hollow he's old as hell
He's European
He takes a lot of naps in random places such as the roof of Las Noches
In fact he does a lot of cat like stuff and doesn’t realize it
He can purr but rarely and it’s mostly in his sleep 
When he became an arrancar he had long hair similar to his release form. It kept getting in the way so he cut it
he doesn’t like wearing clothes
Him and his fraccion use to sleep close together in case they were ambushed by other adjuchas and still did even after they became arrancars
They didn’t think much of it. Except Di Roy. He’d say it was weird and ‘un-masculine’ to which Grim would tell him to shut up and go to sleep after laying an arm or a leg over his face. 
Di Roy would also occasionally guilt trip him
Grimmjow: You’re too weak to fight with us.
Di Roy: I wouldn’t be if someone didn’t bite my face off. 
Grimm:..........fine! do whatever you want. See if I care. 
He was actually much closer to them than he let on
Most of the epsada knew it. Especially after Syazel threatened to experiment on them since they were ‘expendable.’ He did his best to avoid Grimmjow after that.
He only really got to grieve of their deaths when the war against Aizen ended
As much as he genuinely enjoyed fighting Ichigo it was also a distraction from all the pain he tried to burry
Harribel and Nelliel helped him with his grief
They became sort of friends afterwards tho he still tries to fight them both on a weekly basis 
Refers to Pantera with female pronouns 
One perk of most of Los Noches’ inhabitants being defeated is the nearly infant amount of space. So he was able to choose his own room
He keeps it surprisingly tidy aside from the nicknacks he’s hoarded from wandering around Hueco Mundo
His bed is full of pillows as a substitute of having a pack to sleep with
When asked he’ll say its for comfort
Nelliel: Have you seen my pillow? 
Grimmjow: * sitting on it in his pillow pile* No.
He steals everyone’s stuff now and then but mostly Nel’s cuz he likes to mess with her ( insert low key sibling energy )
He talks to animals like people
Grimmjow: I told you to stop crossing the street at the red light idiot!
Cat: Meow
Grimm: Don’t talk back to me you little shit!!
Hangs out at Urahara’s place when he’s in the living world and not trying to fight Ichigo
Likes human food. Especially meat.
Grimmjow: *eating bacon for the first time* hmm tastes like hollows but better
Ichigo:.....I’m sorry what??!!
Was dared that he couldn’t beat Yoruichi at twister. He won five crates of snacks to bring back to Hueco Mundo ( may or may not have shared them cuz “ they gave me too much so take it or I’ll throw it out” )
Says things around the characters in the living world about his terrible experience under Aizen’s rule like it’s normal
Grimmjow: *having another rematch with Ichigo* Damn that almost hurt as much as Tousen slicing my arm off
Ichigo: *pauses the fight* Tousen did WHAT?!!
Becomes friends with Ichigo but won’t admit it.
Somewhat apologizes to Orihime and Rukia for what he did. But not Ichigo cuz he’ll do it all again but with less deadly intent.
Learns how to cook
Likes just about any kind of movie/show. He isn’t picky 
Would get his 6 tattoo edited to something else if it bothered him
Would freakin die for Kazui!!! 
Here are the S/O ones:
Is pansexual so gender isn’t an issue
Prefers someone who can beat him up but is ok with a human if he feels a very strong connection to them
Doesn’t really have a physical type honestly 
Will admire things about their appearance cuz he likes it on them and not in general
Will be in complete denial about his feelings at first 
Like “hollows aren’t meant to love” and all that ish 
Makes up excuses to hangout with them but it’s mostly for his own benefit
“ I don’t like them. They just have a nice movie collection.” “ I don’t like them. They’re just nice to spar with.” “ I don’t like them. They’re just nice to talk to.” “I don’t like them. They just make me feel safe when I sleep next to them.” 
Gives them random things he’s found when wondering around Hueco Undo’s desserts like gems and cool sharp bones
Let's them hold and even use Pantera
Starts to unconsciously turn off his hierro when he’s with them. It causes a lot of fliching and embarrassing gasps when they touch him since he’s not use to feeling so much
Did I mention he’s touch starved?
Like a lot.
Holding his hand for too long would literally kill him
Once he’s gotten use to feeling something other than pain from another person he starts to let them touch him more. Like hugs. Lots of hugs. 
He even lets them rub his release form’s cat ears
Then here come the purrs. Louder than they’ve ever been before! It startles them both. He denied it but the blush gave him away.
He’ll do his best to purr more often since his s/o likes it so much. Such as when they’re cuddled up for a nap. Though he doesn’t really have to try.
Is confused as to why they like to squish his toe beans but lets them do it anyway
Wraps his tail around them in his release form
Will let them braid his long hair
Will also let them paint his claws as well as put makeup on him
He’s a total pushover ( insert the ‘please for me’ meme )
Is very protective of them
“ Why are you sad? Do I need to kill someone?”
If asked will follow his s/o when they’re out at night so they feel safe. Potential muggers? Thrown by an unknown force. Stalker? Punched by an unknown force. Cat callers in a car? Car gets flipped over by an unknown force.
Eventually no one bothers them at all cuz word goes around that they’re protected by a ghost or something else supernatural.
They’re of the few that can call him by a nickname and survive. Grimm, Grimmy, Grimmykins, Grimmy-kun, Kitty, Kitten, Catboy, Stinky cat, Baby boy, Baby boi, Big guy, Tough guy, My Arancar, My love, My one and only, Handsome, Blueberry. Literally anything is fine with him.
But call him My King and he’s done for. Dead. A second time. Deceased all over again. His heart will reform just to burst out of existence. 
Takes them to Hueco Mundo a few times 
Makes a pillow fort with them with his hoard of pillows 
Will be skeptical as to why they like him and won’t be surprised if they get tired of him and break up
But oh no! They’re in it for the long run! You’re stuck with them Grimmykins:)
Would most likely say I love you without even realizing it till later
Grimm: *blushes* F*CK!!
Harribel: *pauses the meeting* Is there something wrong?
Grimm: I told Y/n that I love them before I left without realizing it! *puts his face in his hands and groans* I’m so screwed.
Nel: Well it’s about damn time!
Harribel: Congrats Grimmjow
Grimm: *groans and blushes some more*
If he really loves them he’ll find a way to weaken his immortality so they can grow old together ( yes it’ sappy but he figures he’ll get bored after they long gone )
Might go to Mayuri for help and becomes his lab rat in return. Won’t tell his s/o till it’s done so they won’t try to stop him.
It’s not fun. Like at all ( insert angsty fit energy here ). But it works and as an added bonus him and his s/o can have kids if they’d like
A great dad. Incredibly supportive and loving. Mess with them and you’re dead. Or at least scarred for life. No one messes with his cubs.  
Grimm: Isn’t it weird that our kids are best friends?
Ichigo: No. We’re friends.
Grimm: I tried to kill you.
Ichigo: Who hasn’t?
Grimm: I’ll drink to that.
Ichigo: That’s a juice box.
Grimm: Have you seen my kids? The last time I wasn’t sober they ceroed the roof off and beat up a hollow. There’s no way I’m missing that again.
512 notes · View notes
catzula · 4 years ago
Text
Lost and Found
250 followers! Thank you! I couldn’t edit this, it’s pretty late where I live, but I think it turned out pretty well and I'llprobably edit it in the morning, so, ugh, enjoy!
btw I just realized this is my 25th post and it’s funny since it’s also 250 followers thank you post hehe also a last minute edit of oh shit I had a taglist and like ily aah first time tagging someone @astroninaaa
Bakugou x fem!cat quirk!reader
warnings: kissing, cursing, it’s 7.6k- I swear I tried to keep it short but I couldn’t, being very annoying to each other- I don’t know tbh
genre: fluff, enemies to lovers au
***
It wasn’t a secret that you and your neighbor didn’t like each other, but what many people didn’t know was how deep this dislike was. You were in a war, fighting each other openly or secretly, but always finding a way to irritate each other to the most.
You groaned when you heard loud thuds coming from the apartment right next to you, waking you from your one of many daily naps. Trying to go back to sleep, you closed your eyes and snuggled even deeper to the blanket fort you have made, but had to open them once again when you heard a louder thud followed with a string of curses, and guessed that he probably had tossed into another furniture. Really, how long does it take for one to get used to the placement of their furniture?
Pressing the pillow you were hugging to your ear to cancel out the noise, you took a deep, irritated breath, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep again. You could hear his every move, whether it was because of your heightened hearing abilities, or because he was generally a loud person, you weren’t sure. When you finally heard him settling down on the couch, you hoped to sleep, groaned with frustration when he turned the tv on, and like always, on the loudest setting.
”Oh my god!” You screamed into your pillow, sitting up from your sleeping position. Everything was much better before he had moved to the place right next to you. When you didn’t work on your college assignments, you usually slept when you were home, so you wished for silence, and you had no problems with that whatsoever until he moved to the apartment next to you.
Though you weren’t the only one unhappy because of their neighbor. Bakugou, too lost countless hours of sleep because of the cats whining and screaming every night, since it was really common of your quirk for the cats to feel and want to be closer to you. It was like every cat in the damn neighborhood was pulled to you, and they all seemed to be very agitated since they just never shut up. Bakugou needed his sleep -so did you, but it seemed he wasn’t aware of that… or simply didn’t care- and it affected his life enormously when he couldn’t get his sleep, as it had been affecting him the past few weeks.
He had bought a cat repellant for that, a device that released a sound only cats could hear, to prevent the cats from lurking around the building, not even thinking of its effect on you. After only an hour of using the device, he heard a very aggressive knock on his door, only to find his downstairs neighbor glaring at him. Her hair disheveled and ruffled like a cat’s fur would be when it was angry, purple bags under her eyes, and her face pale, looking like she came to his door straight from a war.
He also noticed how one of your socks were missing, and the odd scene of one clothed and one bare foot made him want to laugh. He didn’t know it was because of the many cats that liked to steal your stuff since they thought of your scent relaxing.
It wasn’t the first time he had seen you, but it still took a moment for him to recognize you. His gaze wandered on the tail wagging behind you and the pair of cat ears on your head, grimacing when he caught himself thinking about how cute you looked.
”What do you want?” He asked with a glare as intense as yours, but you gritted your teeth and kept glaring without answering his question. He could see your cat ears twitching with the now increased sound since you were closer to the source. ”What- what the fuck is that?”
”What is what?” Bakugou raised his shapely brows, though he was well aware of the reason you were here. Your eyes roaming in the room, trying to find where this goddamn noise was coming from, you looked so irritated that he felt his lips twitching to a smile at the sight.
Without waiting for him to invite you in -not that he would do that- you entered his house, walking to the table that stood in the middle of the room. Your ears were twitching constantly with irritation, your tail not moving anymore.
”Hey, what the fuck are you doing, just walking in my damn appartement?!” He shouted, holding and pulling you back from your elbow, but you easily pulled yourself free from his grip with the adrenaline flowing in your veins. And Bakugou was a smart man, one look you sent his way told him to stay away from you.
The room was unexpectedly tidy, especially for a guy as impatient and angry as him, and the caramel scent you always sensed whenever you saw him now even stronger. A small, black device on the table caught your eye, noticing it was that that caused you to go insane.
”This! What the fuck is this? ” You took it to your hands and brought it closer to your eyes to examine it closer, though the ongoing noise making you shriek with discomfort.
”Is this a cat repellant?!” You blurted out, now even angrier. Quickly putting the device back to its place, he noticed the pure disgust on your face. You turned back to face him, meeting his blood-red eyes that were twinkling with amusement. Seeing him enjoying this made your blood boil, you physically had to hold yourself back from jumping on him and ripping that stupidly good looking smile off of his face.
”You bastard,” you choked out when he didn’t answer, ”you bought a cat repellant?!” Pressing every button on the device, you desperately tried to stop the sound. ”Of course I did.” He answered, the amused look in his eyes now gone with your insult. ”Your cats wouldn’t let me sleep! They’re so fucking annoying.”
”Is that so? ” You asked, taking a deep breath of relief when you finally closed that shitty device off. ”Am I supposed to buy a Bakugou repellant, then? Since you’re so fucking annoying, too. ” You shot back, and you had to admit, it wasn’t nearly as clever as you wanted it to be, but it still worked since Bakugou was seemingly fuming.
”You little- You have the audacity to come into my house, force yourself in, and talk to me like this? You really are as dumb as you look.”
Your eyes narrowed, hands itching to throw a punch right across his handsome face. When you stood silent he sighed with annoyance. ”Get out already! I don’t have time for this shit.” He pulled you towards the exit, but you still had much to say. Apparently, Bakugou knew what you were thinking since when you didn’t exit the room, he simply took the device and turned it on.
Hearing the sound so suddenly made you choke on your words for a second or so, making you want to carve your ears out. ”You- you-” You tried to talk, but he couldn’t care less.
”I said get out.” He ordered, and you did, though not because you were afraid of him, but because the sound was unbearable. Storming out of the room, you promised yourself to annoy him as much as he did you.
This day was the beginning of the war between you two (though you never once heard that noise again after that day, and you were secretly grateful… not that you would admit to that).
You made the cats jump on him when they saw him, get in his apartment, and shed as much as they could whenever they had the chance, making them steal his socks and small trinkets just to piss him off, so in return, he became the loudest neighbor ever. Using the tv in the loudest setting, playing that goddamn drum set every now and then -hitting hit like his life depended on it-, training on the punching bag he hung on the wall that was joint with your wall, you could swear he bought the loudest vacuum cleaner available, and he always played that horrible horrible music that was almost as bad as the cat repellant.
Your cats left furballs in his balcony, he sprayed lemon juice to your balcony, somehow knowing the citrus smell always made you gag and gave you the worst headaches. It went on and on, and it was just getting tiresome at this point, but neither of you was willing to back off.
Stretching your muscles that were stiff from sitting in one place for a long time, you couldn’t help the cat-like moan coming out of your lips, remembering you had another assignment that was due a week from today, though knowing yourself, you would either do it today or the last day. Deciding it was better to at least start it today, you stood up, going towards the kitchen to fix yourself something to eat, though the sudden lack of noise coming from next door making your ears perk up with curiosity.
You listened to him a bit, trying to guess why he was so quiet all of a sudden, but shrugged to yourself and took a snack out of your cupboard. You were going to the balcony to work on the assignment when you heard the water running, explaining the sudden lack of noise.
Since the marble ground in the balcony always made your feet feel cold, you looked for your socks, and you could swear you left them right on the counter, though it wasn’t much of a shock not to find them there. The cats loved to steal or move stuff that belonged to you, and a small part in you felt a little better since Bakugou was going through the same thing.
Since you and Bakugou shared a balcony and both enjoyed being outdoors, it was hard to escape each other, and crossing paths out there always led to the worst arguments. So you were glad to have some quiet time you could spend alone here.
You sat down, sipping on your coffee as you tried to find a comfortable position. As you opened a new word document, you bit your lip, thinking of a strong sentence to start the essay. It was always the hardest to write the first few sentences, you thought. You made a motion to tie your hair, only to find your hair tie missing, too.
Diving deep in your thoughts, writing and erasing the different versions of the same sentence, you hadn’t realized Bakugou was done with his shower, nor had you noticed him and another familiar face coming out, joining you in the balcony.
“Oh, hey Y/N-chan!” You heard someone call out to you, the sound making you let out a small shriek of surprise. It was Kirishima, one of the rare people who visited Bakugou often. His red hair was as spiky as ever, and it always made you wonder how he styled his hair to get that spiky style. Kirishima’s hair always had that hair-gel smell to it, unlike Bakugou’s caramel and mint-scented ones, indicating Kirishima’s hair was not naturally spiky.
“Hey, hey- It’s just me!” He told you when he heard your shriek and noticed how you tucked your tail anxiously between your legs. It took you a few seconds for your nerves to calm down and accept that he wasn’t a threat. “Oh, I’m sorry Kiri-kun. I wasn’t paying attention.” You said with an apologetic smile, noticing how Bakugou winced as you called his friend Kiri-Kun.
Bakugou had a pair of shorts and a shirt on, the black shirt clinging to his frame that caused your ears to twitch in embarrassment of your thoughts.
His ashy hair was still a bit damp, though it was obvious he blow-dried them. You didn’t expect less from the control-freak, though, you could do without that mind-fuzzing caramel scent of his.
“Oh, were you working on something?” Kirishima smiled sweetly as he glanced on your computer screen. “Yeah,” you answered with a pout that meant it’s-not-going-well, making his smile wider. “It’s not important, though.” You closed the screen since you weren’t actually doing anything other than looking at the blank word document.
“Oi, shitty hair!” Bakugou called out when you kept talking with his friend, both of you ignoring him in his part of the balcony. “Come here.”
“Aww, missed me already?” Kirishima teased, causing Bakugou to growl with annoyance. “If you don’t come here right now-” He stopped mid-sentence when he heard you sigh. The crimson gaze quickly turning to you, the annoyed look on his face left its place to straight on angry.
“What the fuck is your problem?”  
“Can you at least try to be a little more quiet? You’re hurting my ears.” You answered with a mocking look, though what you said wasn’t exactly the truth. Disturbing, maybe, but not quite hurtful.
“Can you try to be a little less annoying? You’re hurting my nerves.” Kirishima pouted when Bakugou shot back at your unnecessary attempt to fight with him. “Now- Bakubro, that’s not something you say to a lady.”
Bakugou looked like he had a lot to say, but surprisingly, he chose to stay quiet. Instead, he sat in his place with a grumpy pout on his face and arms crossed on his chest, the sight caused an odd, tingly feeling to spread in your chest. “Will you come here already?” He finally asked when Kirishima kept making small talk with you.
“Eh,” Kirishima sent him a toothy grin as he scratched the back of his neck, “why don’t you just come here?”
“Haah?!” Bakugou blurted, making your ears to hurt for real this time. “I’m not sitting with her!”
“And I’m not sitting with him!” You answered though the blunt response of not being wanted did hurt just the little bit. Denying this feeling, you glared at his crimson eyes, the ones that were challenging you to do so. It took at least 30 seconds before Kirishima interrupted the silent war going between you and Bakugou, finally allowing you to blink or look away. “Oh, quit being a baby, you two.” Kirishima muttered, rolling his eyes. “Both of you are adults enough to sit together for an hour or two without killing each other.”
When Bakugou clicked his tongue in annoyance and looked away, Kirishima pestered him. “Right, Bakugou?” It was a secret challenge, you were sure. If you started an argument, you would lose. And God knew, you would rather die than lose to him.
So without protesting you sat back in your place, followed by Kirishima, who was grinning mischievously. Bakugou was the last to sit down, displeasure and annoyance evident on his face. You took a long sip of your now cold coffee, sending a teasing smile to Bakugou in the process, earning an annoyed “tch” from him. You noticed he did this quite often.
“So,” Kirishima said cheerfully to at least diffuse some of this heavy tension in the air. “How are you, Y/N-chan?”
You shrugged. “Not much, I guess. I’m a little bored at home, and it sucks that I can’t even sleep because of a certain someone.” You didn’t hold back from sending one more look at the blonde’s way.
“Serves you right,” Bakugou growled, his eyes narrowed into slits, “since I can’t sleep either.” You noticed Kirishima snickering as he rolled his eyes with irritation.
“Must be something in the air.” He joked, an attempt to stop the fight before it started, but neither of you was paying attention to him.
“Oh, really? You can’t sleep, and that’s my fault?” You asked quirking a brow up and scoffed when he nodded curtly. “I’m not the irrationally loud one around here, am I?”
“No, your cats are the irrationally angry ones.” Bakugou answered, weaving his hand through his now dry and messy hair, a way of showing his frustration. Your eyes followed his hand, gulping when you noticed your mind started to wonder how it would feel like under your touch.
Noticing how one small act diffused your anger and fuzzied your mind almost instantly, you felt even angrier than before. “Oh, yeah.” You exclaimed. “That should explain why you bought a fucking cat repellant!” His teeth gritting with annoyance, he was going to answer if it wasn’t for Kirishima whose eyes widened with genuine shock.
“You did what?!”
“You heard it! I was losing my mind because of him.” You muttered under your breath, remembering that god awful sound, shivering because of the memory.
“Then make your cats shut up!”
“For the love of God, they’re not my cats! I can’t do anything to stop them from wanting to be closer to me.” Well, that was a lie, but they didn’t need to know that. It was just that the cat’s presence calmed you, making you feel a little less lonely.
“Beats me.” Bakugou answered, though didn’t hold back a ‘You either make them shut up, or else’ look. This only made you angrier, you could feel your hands itching to punch him in his smug face.
Both of them were well aware of how your tail was perking and ruffling behind you, indicating just how irritated and angry you were. “You’re just so god damn annoying, I can’t even-”
“Guys, guys.” Kirishima stopped you by holding your arm when you sprinted on your legs, either to jump on him or run inside, you weren’t sure either. “You did tell me you were going to sit like an adult and not fight, right?”
“He started it!” You felt like a child, but it was okay since he was acting like one too.
“Me?!” He growled, his eyes never leaving yours, and you felt the odd urge to gulp. Taking a deep breath, you sat back down when Kirishima looked at you with a brow quirked up.
“Can you play some music?” You asked for a change of topic. When Bakugou reached for his phone, you grimaced, remembering the things he often listened to. He saw the sour expression on your face and rolled his eyes.
“Now what?”
“I didn’t say anything!” You protested though you kept making a face, you sighed when he looked at you demandingly. “It’s just that… your music taste is kinda lame.”
“What?!” He blurted out, looking genuinely shocked, which amused you just a little bit. Kirishima was roaring with laughter, obviously not expecting that either. “My music taste is the best in the fucking world!” He grunted, his cheeks slightly tinged pink.
“Not to me.” You shrugged, which caused a grumpy expression to find its place on his face. “Then you just have bad taste in music.” He reached for his phone one more time, not breaking eye contact once as he opened a song. You expected that loud music he always seemed to enjoy but were surprised when you heard a soft acoustic guitar instead.
“Oh, I love this song.” Kirishima muttered as he closed his eyes and went along with the song, causing Bakugou to send you a knowing smirk that just screamed ‘See? Even he likes it’ And you couldn’t deny it was… good.
“Well, it’s not that bad, I guess.” You admitted hesitantly, forgetting how bad you were at lying, thanks to your feline parts. This only made Bakugou’s smirk even wider, almost turning it to a genuine smile that made him look even more handsome than he already was, and you felt like smiling back at him. Kirishima stood up, mumbling about getting coffee as he went inside, but neither of you paid attention. “I didn’t think you listened to these kind of music, too.”
“That’s on you for being prejudiced.” He mumbled, and you furrowed your brows. “Prejudiced? If there’s anyone prejudiced here, it’s you!” You protested at the accusation, making him lean even closer to you, so close that you could almost feel the heat radiating from him.
“You don’t know anything about me.” He told you with a low voice that sent goosebumps down your spine. You could feel your breath hitching in your chest, your heart beating like it was trying to scare him away. “I might not know you personally, but I know what type of a person you are.”
“Oh, really?” He quirked his brow, interested. “Do tell me. What kind of a person am I?” He looked like he was just teasing you, but you could see how serious he was under his cynical mask. “Well,” you started your sentence without thinking, “you are a selfish, self-centered, egoistic man who doesn’t care about anyone else but himself.” You exclaimed as you thought about all those times you were awoken from your sleep, that god awful day you almost lost your mind, and the times you had the worst headache because of the citrusy smell he kept spraying on your balcony.
“You want everyone to do anything you say without question, expect them to do everything your way and the way you want it to be, not even thinking about how it would effect them!”
He stood silent at your sudden exclaim, and you didn’t miss how his upper lip curled in a threatening manner. His ruby eyes burning with anger, you couldn’t help but think how beautiful they looked.
A few seconds of silence past, making you wonder if you went too far, and just as you were about to apologize, you noticed his eyes softening just a little bit, a small smirk finding it’s way on his soft-looking lips. “You know, you may be right in all those.” He muttered his voice so low that made your tail stay still with- excitement? His smirk grew wider when he looked at your still tail and perked up ears, and you knew he was well aware of your feelings.
“But,” He started to talk, once again leaning closer, so close that his porcelain skin just millimeters away from your face. “how are you any different, than me?”
Now, that was the last thing you expected him to say.
And it was the only thing that could leave you speechless like this. Your mouth slightly agape, you looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, rapidly trying to find an answer to turn this all around.
But instead, you had to admit defeat.
You sighed as you stood up, taking your laptop and your half-full coffee mug off the table. “Touché.” You told him with a small smile, and you saw him smiling, too.
***
Standing up, you opened your balcony door to have some fresh air and take a break from the essay you just weren’t able to perfect. You had finally managed to finish writing, but editing was just as hard. Rubbing your temples, you stretched your muscles, bored from doing the same thing for the past few hours or so.
As if it wasn’t bad enough, your thoughts had been drifting to the handsome man living right next to you almost constantly. You couldn’t help but replay the conversation you had that day when Kirishima had visited him, and even if you didn’t want to admit, your opinion of him had been changing this past week or so.
Throughout the past one or two weeks, you noticed how these balcony conversations started to happen every day, sometimes even twice a day. You somehow managed to cross paths every single day -you didn’t want to admit, but it wasn’t exactly wrong that your balcony visits were getting frequent at this point, in hope to… catch a glimpse or have a conversation- what you didn’t know was that it was the same with him, too.
He found himself looking your way whenever he was out, sitting in his side of the balcony. Or when he was watching tv or anything, his eyes always looked at your side to find a glimpse of you, going out with two mugs of coffee in his hand when he saw you, your laptop open in front of you, your tail wagging and ears twitching whenever they caught a sound. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw you sitting there, typing something with a displeased look and furrowed brows.
And even though you concealed it immediately, he always caught the bright smile that sat on your lips whenever you spotted him with an extra mug of coffee in his hands.
“Oh, hey.” You muttered when you saw him coming out of his apartment, trying to wear his slippers without spilling the coffee (one of his socks was missing, and you found this to be hilarious). The mixture of his caramel scent and the coffee smell caused you to short circuit for a few seconds.
Pressing your lips together, you tried to suppress your smile, but you were half sure your tail gave your emotions away. “Working hard.” He grunted, and you nodded, this time unable to conceal the smile hanging on your lips.
You shrugged, closing your laptop, fully aware there was no way you could focus on your work when he was sitting right across you -especially looking this good, did he do something with his hair? How did he look this good this early in the morning?-
“How’s Kirishima?” You asked when the silence ensued. His brows twitched with the question, but he grunted. “Good, I guess. He’s working hard.”
“Oh, and here I am, thinking that it was because of me boring him to death that he wasn’t visiting anymore.” You joked, finally able to get a responsive smile back form him. “That, too.” He answered.
He watched as you sipped the coffee he brought -oddly, it was just the way you liked your coffee- and smirked when a relaxed smile appeared on your face with the familiar taste.
“This is… really good. Thanks.” You mumbled, feeling how your cheeks were starting to heat up. You were about to ask something unimportant just for the sake of talking when he suddenly leaned in, his face so close to yours that you didn’t even notice his hand above you, touching your hair with a softness you didn’t expect from him.
You couldn’t even question what he was doing as his hand straddled your hair, his ruby eyes slightly narrowed and looking at you, his tongue sliding on his soft-looking lips, focused. His caramel scent now so strong, you held your breath, or maybe it was because of the excitement that caused you to do so.
It wasn’t something he had planned to do either, more like a pure instinct that caused him to lean closer to you and try to take that stray leaf that was stuck in your hair.
Your eyes wandered over his flawless face, and just as you did so, his eyes lowered to yours, only to find them looking at him, wide open. The way you looked at him was so sweet, so innocent, and so unlike the anger he thought he would see, it caught him off-guard, his hand slipping and grazing your cat-ears, instead.
His thumb caressing your velvety ears, it was a natural reaction of your body, to close your eyes and lean into his touch, and a deep purr escaped your lips, making you both look at each other with widened eyes.
A few seconds of silence past as you prayed to god or whatever force there was, that he didn’t hear the sound that just came from you. But your hopes died when he looked at you like you grew a second head.
“Did you-” He stammered, causing the heat on your cheeks to worsen, “Did you just purr?”
“I didn’t purr- sh-shut up!” You exclaimed, but he wasn’t over it yet, apparently.
“No- no, did you really just-” His hand that was still on your head moved slightly, and even though you were expecting it this time, you couldn’t conceal how your body flinched and how your tail moved with the feeling of his hand on your ears. The smirk that was growing on his lips didn’t help either.
“Can you- can you stop that?” You whispered, and he chuckled. “What, this?” He asked, moving his thumb ever so slightly, just to be able to see that expression on your face, one more time. The way you closed your eyes with an animalistic instinct, your ears twitching under his touch, and it felt so right-
“Y-yes, stop that please.”
He pulled back, sipping his coffee with a smug grin on his lips. “Didn’t know my neighbour was so sensitive.” He muttered into his mug, not helping your situation the slightest bit.
“Of course my ears are sensitive!” You protested, trying to shake the embarrassment away. “I am a cat after all.”
He hummed, agreeing to what you said, but somehow it felt even worse when he agreed to you.
***
“Oh my fucking god!” You screamed at the annoyingly loud music coming from the other side of the wall. Standing up, you walked to the joint wall, feeling even more frustrated when you felt your concentration fading. Just a few seconds ago you were on fire, working on the essay like it was the last thing you were going to do, and now, it was gone forever.
You looked at the small USB drive that stood on your desk, the one that held every document that was supposed to be on your laptop.
Since your laptop was quite old, it didn’t have enough space to hold many things, so until you had enough money to buy a new one, you came up with this solution, though, it wasn’t very practical.
“Bakugou!” You hit the wall with all your might, trying to get his attention. “For the love of god, can you please shut the fuck up?”
You knew he could hear you since his grunts and snickers were audible to your ears, but he didn’t seem to care, he turned the volume up, instead. Gritting your teeth with annoyance, you started kicking the wall.
“Ba-”
thump
“Ku”
thump
“Gou!”
thump
“I’m trying to-” Your voice was muffled by the guitar solo. “I’m worki-” You tried to scream when you finally heard the guitar solo coming to an end, but your words once again faded when the drums started to play, this time even louder than before.
“Bakugou, I’m working here!” You screamed, knowing it wouldn’t reach him. Huffing with annoyance, you ran your fingers through your hair to look somewhat decent and got out to the balcony. You didn’t notice how you left the USB on the counter, or that you left the balcony door open when you ran outside.
***
Bakugou grinned when he heard a soft knock on his balcony door. He was well aware of who it was, and he ignored how fast his heart suddenly started to beat when he heard the knocks.
What he couldn’t ignore was, however, that it wasn’t him being stupidly stubborn when he played that loud music. He knew you were working, and a tiny voice his mind told him that if he played it loud enough, he might get the chance to see you.
Bakugou gave the punching bag one or two last punches before he turned to the door and opened it for you, a smug grin that you were now used to see -and somehow even started to like- on his face. You looked thoroughly annoyed, though he was well-aware of how your tail swayed behind you with excitement and playfulness.
You had pajama’s on, a little too light for the chilly night. Bakugou grunted in a disapproving manner, though he did skid aside, a way of telling you to get in already. As you took the silent invitation, both of you were thinking of the same night, when you had barged in his house for buying a cat repellent. He couldn’t help but smile at the odd memory.
“What’s your problem?” He asked in fake annoyance.
“You’re being too loud!” You protested though the smile on your lips and the sparkle in your eyes gave your act away. “I can’t work because of you.”
“Must be because I’m a smug bastard who doesn’t care about anyone but himself.” He teased, the words 'but then again, so are you’ unspoken, but very much told. You rolled your eyes at the attempt to get you flustered. “And I’m here to tell the smug bastard to be quiet for a few fucking hours so I can work, 'kay?” You told him with a challenging look as you made your way back out to the balcony.
“Whatever the princess says.” He answered cynically, but his smile was genuine for once.
“Goodnight, Bakugou.” You finally gave in and smiled back brightly, and he felt this odd tingle in his chest, which had been happening quite frequently lately.
“Goodnight, princess.” The nickname was meant to be cynical and mocking, though somehow it felt endearing, instead.
With a smile on your lips, you turned back to your apartment, the lack of noise from the apartment next to you a pleasant surprise, making your smile even wider.
Your smile faded when you looked at the USB that was on the counter. Or more like, lack thereof. You were sure you had left it right there, and then you had just-
Oh, shit.
You could smell the cats that were here a few seconds before you, and there was no mistake, it was them who took it along with a few other stuff. Groaning and cursing, you started to walk around the house, frantically searching for the little USB drive, looking under the tables and cupboards, under the fridge, over the fridge, under the curtains…
Running your hands through your hair, you got out of your apartment, not even aware of how cold the night was. If it wasn’t in your apartment, you knew only one other place they could hide your stuff in. The garbage.
Groaning and cursing, you arrived at the big, smelly green thing that was almost a second house to the stray cats. The cats felt your presence before they even saw you, running away for their lives since they could feel how furious you were.
“Where is it?!” You asked them before they could get away, but they ignored your question and ran, leaving you alone in this miserable place. No matter how in contact you were with your feline side, you could never understand how cats could feel at ease in the garbage.
Biting your lip in hesitation -is it really that important? Can’t I just rewrite the 200 files in there?- you rolled your sleeves up, disgust boiling in the pit of your stomach. You finally managed to get one foot in there, the smell and the feeling altogether making your eyes water with disgust, and you were well aware, the second you let your guard down, you would throw up.
What took the most courage was to put your hands in there and actually move the trash. You could only thank God that not everything was out in the open, and most was in big black trash bags, but some were ripped open and scattered, thank the cats.
Even if it was the most disgusting thing ever, you did get used to the sickening smell and the feeling of sitting on top of the trash. Whenever a cat got close to you to apologize, you threw whatever was in your hand at them -along with a string of curses-, making them realize you were pissed.
Bakugou was smiling when he closed the door after you. He tried to stop smiling and be annoyed with you, but how could he when you looked at him like that? He remembered how you purred that day when he had touched your soft ears, the memory only making his cheeks red and his grin wider.
He was going to go on with his workout when he heard a noise coming from outside. He frowned when he realized it was once again the cats scattering and playing with the garbage. He was going to ignore it, but he groaned in annoyance when he heard a loud glass breaking sound. They were particularly messy today.
Wearing the sweatshirt that was on his chair, he went downstairs to at least scare them away, but as he got closer to the source of the sound, he also noticed someone talking to themselves, grumbling and mumbling under their breath, and he noticed it was you in the garbage, and not cats.
His eyes widening when he got sure it was you -he could recognize your voice, especially when complaining- cursing and searching the trash.
You noticed his presence, your hands coming up as if to say I’m not guilty, and you looked at him with horror. “Wh- what are you doing here?!” You stammered when he kept looking at you with disgust and confusion.
“I should be the one asking that.” He answered, “What the fuck are you doing in there?!”
“I- I’m-” How were you even supposed to answer that? “I’m searching for something.” You finally admitted, tears swelling in your eyes, and this time, not because of the smell. “The cats stole my- and now I’m- I gotta-” It was especially hard to talk as you tried to hold back your tears, you realized, not even able to make a full sentence.
“What?” He asked, rightfully confused.
“I- I left my USB on the counter- and now it’s gone! I had my assignments and everything in there and now I can’t find it.” You finally managed to answer, you could feel a tear sliding down your cheek and you couldn’t even wipe your tear since your hand was dirty.
“For fucks sake, how did you even-” He stopped talking when he heard your sniff. “Wait- are you crying?”
“No!” You answered, biting your lip. “It just smells really bad in here, the heightened smelling abilities and shit, you know.” You lied, not very good, though.
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah- right.” Expecting him to turn around and go his not disturbingly bad smelling home, but he got a little closer to you, instead.
“Scoot over.” He told you after inspecting the garbage with his ruby eyes, looking very- very uncomfortable.
“What?” You asked as you dropped the trash that was currently in your hands. “You heard me.” Bakugou muttered. “Scoot over, I’m coming in.”
“You’re going to help me?!” He scoffed when he heard the disbelief in your voice, and you couldn’t suppress the odd feeling of relief washing over you. It wasn’t having someone next to you to help, but it was having him near you.
He held the cold metal, pulling himself up and joining you in your misery. “Thank you, Bakugou.” You muttered as he settled to the place next to you, a sour expression on his face, caused by the disgusting feeling and smell.
“Whatever, let’s just find the shitty thing and get out of here already.” He grunted, and you smiled.
***
Drying your hair with a towel, you were finally able to get rid of that awful smell. Bakugou was already clean and dry, sipping something out of his mug. You were surprised to see him sitting out in the balcony, despite the cold weather and the late hour.
“Hey,” you muttered, running the towel through your hair one more time. You heard him grunt in response, not raising his head from the steaming substance -it was coffee, you realized, and you noticed there was one mug right where you usually sat, too- and sat across him.
“Is the shitty thing still working?” He asked, breaking the silence. He scoffed when you nodded. You were about to thank him for the 100th time when he leaned a bit closer to you, his eyes narrowing and lips curling in a frown in displeasure.
“Didn’t you dry your hair after taking a shower?” His hand touched your hair. Not giving you the time to answer, he stood up and sat next to you, instead. “You dumbass, it’s fucking cold.”
Shaking his sweatshirt off of him, he pulled it over your head, dressing you with it, even though it was a little too big for you. He closed the hood and hid your cat ears and damp hair under it, his scent all your mind could process for a second or so.
His thumb touched your cheek softly as he closed the hood, Bakugou noticed how you leaned into his touch or drew a sharp breath as he traced a soft line with his touch.
Suddenly, his presence was overwhelmingly strong, your bodies so close and his face near yours, your mind only occupied with him and him only. His gaze dropped to your lips as you took one more sharp breath, ruby eyes darkening as you rolled your lip in your mouth anxiously.
“I-” You started to talk, but stopped when you noticed you had nothing to say. Maybe you should thank him again, you thought, and as you were about to do so, his thumb that was on your cheek pressed in, in a warning manner.
“I swear to god, if you thank me one more fucking time-”
“What?” You asked, not realizing you were getting closer to him, so close that you could feel his soft breath on your face. “What will you do if I thank you one more fucking time?”
He saw the challenging smile that was forming on your soft-looking lips, swallowing the excitement that was rising in his chest. “I will- silence you.” Bakugou answered, also smiling.
“Well then, thank you Ba- mmph!-” Bakugou was a man of his word, after all, so he did what he said. His lips closing in on yours, for the first time in your life, you weren’t mad at someone for not letting you finish your sentence.
***
Your head right on his chest, you could hear his steady heartbeat, the sound oddly comforting. One of his arms was wrapped around your waist, holding and not letting you an inch away from him, the other softly stroking your hair and your ears, smiling at the feeling of you purring right on top of his chest.
It felt so nice to be so close to him, your hand in his ash-blond hair, running your fingers through them. You moved in your place a little, snuggling into him, making him grunt in annoyance. “Stop moving, shitty woman.”
You smiled, moving even more just to annoy him even further. He was going to say something when a loud cat scream caused both of you to shut up. You could feel him gritting his teeth, his irritation evident, and you weren’t making it better by laughing at him.
“You know, this is all your fault-” He protested, but was once again interrupted by the cats. “For fucks sake- can’t you silence them, at least for one night?”
“Okay, okay. Just this one night.” You always liked hearing the cats, they made you feel lonely, but tonight, you didn’t need them to make you feel better.
You opened the window, leaning a bit as you glanced at the blonde that was watching you with much interest, sending a small smile his way as you opened your mouth and shouted. “Shut up!”
Bakugou didn’t know what exactly he was expecting, but he definitely didn’t expect that. “Is that it?” He asked in disbelief as you settled back on top of his chest, his arms wrapping you immediately.
“Yup,” You nodded, a cheeky smile on your face. He shook his head side to side, though he was laughing as he did so.
“I would’ve done that sooner if I knew,oes d it work on you, too?.” He muttered in your hair and laughed when you punched him. Pulling back slightly, he made you look at his face. “So it doesn’t work.” He grinned when you rolled your eyes. “But, still, that was fucking hot.” Bakugou muttered, leaning in to kiss you one more time.
281 notes · View notes
mandoalorian · 4 years ago
Note
Praying ...
🕯 🕯
🕯Max and her having 🕯
🕯 a baby and adopting 🕯
🕯Maxine on next year's 🕯
🕯 Christmas . 🕯
🕯 🕯
🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
To Build A Home [Maxwell Lord x Reader]
READ PART ONE HERE.
Rating: PG
Warnings: mention of orphanage, adoption, birth.
Word count: 2.7k
Permanent taglist - let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @honeymandos @castiel-barnes
Masterlist (PS— if you like reading Maxwell as a father as much as I like writing him, I also have a cute one shot where he has a daughter AND a cat called ‘Soulmates’. You can read that here.)
Tumblr media
Maxwell Lord didn't know what true love was until he held his newborn daughter in his arms. The delivery was peaceful and the child was born awake, her big brown eyes sparkling as she let out the gentlest of cries. "It's a girl," Maxwell announced, his voice croaking as the midwife took your daughter to clean her up.
"A girl?" you sniffed. "Just like you wanted." You beamed, leaning over and hugging Maxwell.
Maxwell let out a choked sob. "She's beautiful," he whispered and your heart melted in your chest. "She looks like you. Not much hair and a little red, and she has my eyes but… she really does look like you," you had never heard him speak with so much joy and delight. "We have ourselves a daughter." he confirmed and you giggled happily as he pressed a comforting kiss into your cheek and smoothed out your messy hair.
Having a newborn baby was not easy. You didn't expect it to be easy, but even with the many house staff coming and going… the butler's and the maids and the nanny’s… it was still a struggle. She would wake up at the most ungodly hour demanding to be fed. She would throw up in the morning all over Maxwell's thousand dollar suits right before he had to head to work. Maxwell swore the diaper changing was the worst, but he loved her unconditionally and he wouldn't change a thing.
In fact, he wanted more. Maxwell Lord always wanted more— no matter what it was. But never did he think he'd want more children, that's for sure. You had just put little Isabella down in her cot, after nursing her and praying she'd actually settle this bedtime. You got undressed, slid into your silk pajama set and swaddled yourself with plenty of blankets in your king sized bed, next to Maxwell. The nights were getting colder, but the warmth of laying next to your fiancée provided you with just enough comfort.
You tore the office paperwork from Maxwell's hands and set it on the nightstand before taking off his reading glasses and kissing him slowly. "Are you nervous for tomorrow?" you asked, in between breathy kisses.
Maxwell nodded. "I know I want this… it's just, I want what's best for her too." Maxwell admitted sheepishly. You rubbed your nose against his and laid your head in his lap. "Isabella was born only three months ago… do you think we're ready for another?"
You smiled. "We're an unstoppable team Maxwell, I know we're ready. It's not going to be easy, but we can do it. I know we can. And I love you."
"I love you too," he sighed, pressing his lips into yours and dropping his hand to caress your body over your pyjamas. You giggled into the kiss as he touched you and moved your head away from his.
"You still got the Santa costume?" you asked, smacking your lips together.
"Mm," Maxwell mumbled, leaning in to kiss you again but you pulled away. "What? It's in the back of the closet. Let me kiss you."
You laughed and nodded, leaning back in to kiss him. He pushed you into the bed sheet and tugged at your silk shorts as he hovered over your body.
Like every morning, you awoke at dawn to Isabella crying for her breakfast. Nursing her, you gave her a bottle of milk and greeted the nanny. "Hey, you sure you don't mind watching Isabella while Maxwell and I head out?" you asked with a pleasant smile.
"Of course not, she's a little darling. It would be a pleasure." the nanny smiled as you passed Isabella over.
"Daddy's little darling." Maxwell said, appearing in the kitchen in his Santa costume… minus the hat and beard. You padded over to him and put your hand on his tummy, a blush creeping over his cheeks as you looked up at him with doe eyes.
"You know, this is kinda sexy." you smirked, pressing down the red fabric and making sure he looked neat and tidy. Maxwell rolled his eyes.
"Go get your elf dress on. We're going to be late." he told you, flicking his wrist out and checking the time on his gold Cartier watch. You nodded, heading back into your bedroom. Maxwell turned to the nanny. "You feed her again at 12, and then at 2, but we should be back by then. She likes to play with her felt books and rattle… they’re in the-"
"Nursery," the nanny finished Maxwell's sentence with a gentle smile. "I know Mr Lord, please don't worry about little Isabella. She's in safe hands, I promise."
Maxwell hesitated but looked down at his daughter who was already looking up at him, her big brown eyes sparkling. She reached out to her father, making little grabby fists as a smile appeared on her face. "I love you princess." he mumbled, kissing his daughter on the forehead.
Maxwell set the sack of presents down under the orphanages Christmas tree, the children clambering and squealing excitedly as they raced over to pick out what Santa (or you and Max) had got for them. "Batman!" A young boy yelled, jumping up with a plastic Batman figurine and showing it off excitedly.
"Really?" Maxwell sighed, leaning into you. "A Batman toy?" he tutted and you laughed, smacking him playfully in his broad chest.
"Princess Jasmine!" A younger girl exclaimed, holding a turquoise Princess Jasmine costume to her body and showing it off in front of the other girls. "I'm going to wear this everyday."
You went to whisper something into Maxwell's ear but noticed that he must've sauntered off somewhere. Your gaze flicked around the living room as you tried to search for him but he was truly nowhere in sight. "Where did Santa Claus go?" a little girl asked, pulling on the hem of your green elf dress.
"I'm not sure," you told her, biting your lip. "Let me go have a look. Wait here, okay?" you told her and she nodded, turning back to open some more presents.
"Where is Maxine?" Maxwell asked the head social worker at the orphanage. "She wasn't with the other kids."
The social worker, Stacey, frowned. "She's in her bedroom. It's been a tough Christmas for her." Stacey explained.
"Can I ask why?" Maxwell prodded curiously.
"We thought she had found her forever home. A family had taken a liking to her but, just the day before Christmas Eve they decided they didn't want her anymore. It came completely out of the blue. She's devastated."
Maxwell's heart sank in his chest at the revelation. "You don't know why they changed their mind?" he asked sadly.
"I'm afraid not," Stacey shook her head. "Maxine is uhm… quite a lot to handle."
"May I go see her?" Maxwell asked.
"Sure, her bedroom is three doors down and to the left." Stacey informed him, pointing her finger down the corridor.
Maxwell sauntered off, finding the room and giving it a brief knock on the door. "Go away!" he heard a little voice cry out. Maxwell couldn't help but smile when he heard Maxine's familiar voice. He didn't think he would have missed her this much, but he did. Maxwell hesitantly opened the door.
"It's Santa!" he called out, grinning when Maxine turned around with teary eyes.
"S-Santa?" Maxine whispered timidly. "You came back?"
Maxwell sat on the edge of Maxine's bed and Maxine crawled over to him. Maxwell pulled the little girl onto his lap. "I promised didn't I?" he smiled.
"You did." Maxine returned the smile. She had stopped crying for the first time in days.
"Have you been a good girl this year?" Maxwell asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow. Maxine nodded excitedly.
"Very good!" Maxine squealed, nuzzling her cheek into Max’s chest. Maxwell felt his heart grow warm at the affection from the child he had grown to care so much about.
"Your friends are out in the living room opening their presents… don't you want to go see them?" Maxwell quizzed, nudging her slightly. Maxine shook her head 'no'. "Well, I know you've been a good girl. That's why there's someone here to see you. Could you give me five minutes?" Maxwell asked, a huge grin painted on his face? Maxine nodded, shuffling off his lap and picking up her teddy, hugging it tight to her chest.
Maxwell left her bedroom, walking down the corridor and pulling off his Santa hat and faux beard before bumping into you. "Hey, I was looking for you everywhere!" you hissed. "Put your hat and beard back on before a kid sees!" you looked around anxiously in hope that nobody was around.
"I spoke to Maxine." Maxwell smiled, tears pooling in his eyes. Your face softened.
"Oh," you were speechless. "And?"
"Get out of your elf dress and meet me by the main entrance. I'm going to speak to Stacey and have her draft the adoption papers for us to sign." Maxwell said, planting a kiss on your cheek. You choked back a sob and hugged your fiancée tight.
"We're getting another daughter?" you asked, the news finally settling in.
"Yeah, we're getting another daughter." Maxwell confirmed, unable to contain his excitement. "Okay, you have five minutes! Quick!" He ushered you back down the hallway and into the living room.
"Um, guys!" you called, the little bell on your elf hat jingling as you tried to get the attention of all the kids. "Guys! Father Christmas has had to leave to go see some more children, but he wishes you all the merriest Christmas and the happiest new year. And he told me to tell you that you all better be good, and he'll come again next year." you said with a cheery smile and the children horray’d.
"What do you say to the elf?" a member of staff encouraged.
"Thank you Mrs Elf." The children all said in unison before turning back to their presents.
You smiled, nodding in contentment before racing out of the living room and outside. You pulled out a plain woollen dress and some tights from the back of the car and quickly changed out of your elf dress, not forgetting to reapply your lipstick and fasten the laces of your winter boots. Deciding you looked like you were back to your usual self, you re-entered the orphanage. A few of the children gave you a confused stare, but it was short lived.
"You're… you're…" it was the same boy from last year, who had shoved the tabloid in your face. You giggled, sinking down to his level.
"Shhh." you smiled, placing a finger over your lips. "What's your name?" you asked.
"Eric." he said excitedly. "I've seen you on the television… you're like. Famous."
You laughed, shaking your head. "Eric is such a lovely name. Like a prince. Have you seen my husband? He's supposed to be here." you asked Eric, who's jaw dropped.
"M-Maxwell Lord the fourth is- is here?" Eric was starstruck. "Wait, I'm not even wearing my best clothes. You know I study business in school? It's my favourite subject. And I- I really look up to your husband, I- I watch all his infomercials. I…"
You placed a hand on Eric's shoulder. "You study business?" you raised an eyebrow. "What do you want to do when you grow up?"
"I want my own company." Eric grinned excitedly.
"You do?" you gasped. "You know, it's hard work. You think you could handle it?"
Eric nodded furiously. "I know I could."
"Never stop believing." you told him, before raising back to his feet.
"Darling?" you heard Maxwell call. You smiled when you saw that your fiancée was back to wearing one of his high end business suits with the floral print tie and matching pocket square, his Armani heels clicking against the floor and his sunglasses perched on the curve of his nose.
"Oh! Max!" you gasped. "There's someone I'd like you to meet. This is Eric. His favourite subject in school is business and he wants to have his own company when he's older."
Maxwell turned to face Eric, reaching out to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you buddy." Maxwell charmed, taking off his sunglasses and clipping them to his shirt. "It's a pleasure."
Eric was speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Uh… Eric is a big fan." you explained to Maxwell.
"I've always wanted to meet you." Eric blushed, enamoured to be standing before his idol.
"Eric, how old are you? Thirteen? Fourteen?" Maxwell asked, folding his arms over his chest.
"Fourteen." Eric smiled nervously.
"Black Gold Cooperative offer an apprentice scheme for kids like yourself who have an interest in one day building their own business. It's very competitive but… I'd love to offer you a position during the summer."
"M-me?" Eric stabbed a finger into his own chest, his eyes wide and teary.
"Come on buddy, don't let me down. I'd love to have you work with me on some projects. I bet you have some brilliant ideas." Maxwell gave Eric his iconic television smile as he charmed the young boy.
"I would be honoured." Eric beamed and Maxwell leaned in to give him a hug.
"That's great." Maxwell laughed, patting Eric on the back and standing back up.
"Mr Lord? I- I also have an interest in geology. Could I show you my rock collection?" Eric asked nervously, fumbling with his thumbs.
"You know Eric, I have my own rock collection myself. But I am here on business at the moment. Eric, I'd love to meet with you sometime during the new year and we could have a chat. Is that okay?" Maxwell asked and Eric nodded happily. "Brilliant, have a great Christmas." Maxwell wished before heading down the corridor and on his way to Maxine's room.
You smiled at a still starstruck Eric. "Merry Christmas." you whispered and he looked at you with the biggest heart eyes.
You followed Maxwell to Maxine's room and entered behind him. "Hello." Maxwell said timidly. Maxine may have met Santa plenty of times, but she had never met Maxwell and he wasn't sure how she'd react. Maxine furrowed her eyebrows, glancing between you both.
"You look like a princess." Maxine gasped, sliding off her bed and walking towards you with huge, glistening eyes.
"No, you look like a princess." you told Maxine who smiled happily. She turned to Maxwell.
"I recognise you." she said bluntly, tapping her finger on her chin as she pondered.
"Uh, do you watch television?" Maxwell asked curiously.
"No." Maxine replied. "I recognise your eyes."
You gasped, realising she must've recognised Maxwell from when he was Santa and made an attempt to divert her attention. You introduced yourself to the little girl. "Me and my husband have been keeping a close eye on you for about a year now," you revealed. "We'd like to adopt you, Maxine. If that's something you wanted. I know it's out of the blue but-"
"Do you have a cat?" Maxine squealed.
"N-no?" you replied.
"You want a cat?" Maxwell asked, kneeling down to face the little girl who he had become so acquainted with and taking her hands. "We can get a cat."
Maxine burst into tears. "I thought I would never find my forever home. Please, promise me you won't ever ever leave me."
Maxwell Lord's father had left when he was 16 and he lived with an absent and abusive mother throughout his entire adolescence. He knew how it felt to be alone, unwanted. He knew better than most people would ever even believe. He pulled Maxine into his chest, who was now sobbing hysterically, dampening his suit. Maxwell shed a tear himself.
"You are my daughter and I love you," he whispered into her hair. "Let us give you a home."
147 notes · View notes
keeptheotherone · 3 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
Mecation: Day 1 
Thursday
I once read social media described as an indulgence of the fantasy that others are interested in the details of our lives. I’m indulging in that fantasy this week by blogging about my Mecation under the guise of travel blogging ;)
If you follow me in even the most casual way, you know I’m a nurse. While I’ve enjoyed the vast majority of my 23 years as such, I don’t recommend it during a pandemic. The last 18 months have been the second-worst mental health period of my life, demoted to that position not because of the mildness of my symptoms but simply because at 15 I didn’t have the experience or perspective to realize my life was not, in fact, ruined forever.
COVID increased my personal vulnerability as a high-risk patient and made my job immensely more difficult in countless ways both small and large, but the worst part of the pandemic for me (so far) is it took away all my coping mechanisms precisely when I needed them most. Massage, pedicures, dinner out with friends, travel ... all gone practically overnight. Pre-COVID I travelled all the time--home to my parents’, long weekends by myself (Mecation!), annual visits to BFFs, conferences, tourism, the beach, my birthday, writing trips, international trips ... I always had at least one trip in the works, usually one booked and one (or more!) in the planning stages. 
When COVID started, all my close friends and family except for two lived out of state. One of those two was out of town but close enough to get together, but the other was a few hours’ drive away. I’m single and live alone; it was the most isolated I’ve ever been in my whole life. 
With my bestest friends over 500 miles away, I still feel that way sometimes. I haven’t seen them in a year. If it weren’t for COVID, it would only be 7 or 8 months (I’ve gone every January or February since ... forever). Then again, if it weren’t for COVID, I wouldn’t have been there last September; one had been hospitalized and I needed to see she was all right with my own two eyeballs. I expect it will be at least another 7 or 8 months before we get together again, bringing the total to about 20 months. One year we saw each other 5 times in 9 months, our personal best since college. 
I was alone on Christmas. Oh, I’ve spent December 25th on my own before; I’m a nurse. I’ve worked the night of the 24th or the 25th (or both), or whatever combination that didn’t leave enough time off to drive home. But I’ve never spent the Christmas season without my parents. Sometimes the week before, sometimes the week after, sometimes at my place instead of home, but always together. But last Christmas COVID was raging, the vaccines had just come out but were only available to first responders (I got mine on the 23rd), and my elderly parents didn’t feel safe to travel. So I spent Christmas without family.
Travel was not just a break from my daily routine and the stress of nursing; in many ways, the biggest benefit travel made to my mental and emotional health was giving me something to look forward to.  Proverbs 13:12 says, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick,” and ohhh, I was so heartsick last year! Not being able to travel meant I couldn’t visit my best friends of almost 25 years (more than half my life!). Not being able to travel meant I couldn’t lean on my dad or be hugged by my mom. Not being able to travel--and not knowing when I could travel--left this gaping hole in my future, and I had nothing to fill it with. 
I tell you this not to throw a pity party but to explain the significance of the trip I’m on right now. It is only my third this year: my dad and I spent a week in the mountains in February (my depression and anxiety was so bad then that was treatment, not vacation), I took a friend to the beach over my birthday, and now I’m a couple hours from home at a nice spa hotel. (I’m not counting my nephew’s graduation, which was emotionally challenging for multiple reasons, or helping a friend move from Florida. Moving is never fun.)
I started planning this trip in the spring ... May, maybe? You know, after the vaccine rolled out to everyone and case counts were dropping and it looked like we were gonna lick this thing and have a quasi-normal summer by the Fourth of July (yes, I’m American. That date is a proper noun here.). I had switched jobs in November (don’t ask) and gone on mental health leave December 29th, so I felt I owed it to my unit to put in about six months of work before taking any significant time off, especially since I came back at 24 hours instead of 36. That meant September.
I knew what I wanted to do: 4 or 5 days at an all-inclusive resort in the Caribbean. I’d been before and loved the freedom of not worrying about every little expenditure (what can I say, I’m cheap), and a few days of Vitamin Sea sounded perfect.
Then came Delta.
All right, maybe going out of the country isn’t the best idea, I thought. Don’t want to end up with expensive reservations and then your destination closes to Americans, or you make it to your chosen island but can’t get back home. But I didn’t want to fly (ugh, airports!), I didn’t want to drive (rest stops and restaurants and gas stations), and while I thought about taking the train, it didn’t seem much of an improvement (and maybe a downgrade) on flying.
Then a friend mentioned a sleeper car, and I thought yes! That could work! I’ve never been to New England, I want to go to Boston, that area of the country has low case rates and the highest vaccination rates, this has potential! 
Then I looked at the CDC map. There were only four states that didn’t have high transmission at that time (early August, I think; I’d had to wait for confirmation that my time off had been approved): Michigan, Rhode Island, Maine, and New Hampshire. All four had substantial rates of transmission. Hardly ideal, but one thing I’ve learned this year is sometimes you have to make compromises to protect your mental health. It is true it doesn’t matter if you’re happy if you’re dead; it is also true it doesn’t matter if you’re safe if you want to kill yourself. (I’m not suicidal, I am receiving treatment, don’t anybody panic.)
So, now I’ve settled on Maine or New Hampshire by train via sleeper car (Michigan is too far for a 4-5 day trip and RI--meh). Well, as I got deeper into planning, turned out Maine or NH were awfully far too. Far enough I would have to overnight in a major city, which pretty much defeated the purpose of isolating in a sleeper car. Then I found out there were no sleeper cars on either train route.
So, now vacation is 5 weeks away and I’m back at square one. The Deep South, Texas, and Florida are imploding. Pediatric cases are rising--kids are sicker and make up a higher percentage of cases than they did last year. Scuttlebutt from my ICU colleagues is it’s bad--17/30 MICU beds are COVID and they’re all vented. SICU is being nicknamed “the ECMO unit.” The hospital has 18(!) ECMO machines and 12 are in use; the float nurse who tells us that didn’t even know we had 12 because she’s never seen that many in use at one time. Hospital-wide our numbers are equivalent to early February (we peaked in January). There were six--SIX--pediatric rapid responses in one day. 
And I’m going to travel.
It’s a big deal ... a big accomplishment, really, because of what it says about how I’m successfully managing my anxiety. April 1 was the first time I’d been inside a grocery store in more than a year ... and that wasn’t my idea. It was late April or May before I was comfortable eating in restaurants, even with the falling case count at the time. I’m still not sure if I’m managing my anxiety or reacting to the pressure by going to the opposite extreme (I have a history of that), but I know I’m less stressed, less anxious, have fewer obsessive thoughts, fewer physical symptoms, and am learning to live with this disease. 
So, here I sit at a marble-topped 5-foot-wide desk in my queen/queen hotel room at the end of a productive and enjoyable day. I slept in, completed the big goal of this weekend’s to-do list that I honestly thought would take several days, unpacked and organized my room (I arrived yesterday evening), reorganized my Favorites Bar and Bookmarks on my Mac, had an 80-minute aromatherapy massage, enjoyed a shower in the spa afterwards and even blow-dried my hair(!) before wandering around for a while to get the lay of the land and get some steps in (this place is huge!). Then I changed clothes and took myself out to dinner for my favorite food, Italian. 
That’s me in the picture up top, all dressed up :) Actually, I probably look pretty normal to y’all; like most people with depression, my personal hygiene sunk to new lows in the last year and a half, and as a low-maintenance person to begin with, that’s saying a lot. I bought that necklace as a bridesmaid and am not sure I’ve worn it since; this spring was her 10th anniversary. Yesterday I took out the cat-shaped earrings Dad gave me for Christmas. (Yes, they were gross. Yes, I cleaned them. Yes, I’m wearing them again now.) Just wearing a nice top, fixing my hair (no ponytail or claw-clip bun, my staples), and adding jewelry was a big deal ... especially since “no one” was going to see me. I did it just for me, to make myself feel good. And I did. (That’s another small pleasure COVID took away from me--lip gloss. If I wore any makeup at all, it was lipstick or gloss. Utterly pointless when you’re masked whenever you’re in public.)
I took my laptop to dinner and edited a couple chapters of my new Charlie/Amy fic (previewed during #ktoo turns 10), ran a couple errands, and headed back to the hotel since I don’t like to be out late by myself in an unfamiliar city. Forgot I put my receipt envelope in the backseat pocket and reorganized the glove compartment looking for it, then gathered a bunch of returns into a bag in the trunk. Hung out writing in the lobby until my Mac threatened to die, came upstairs and tidied up, put on my jammies, and talked to you guys :) 
9 notes · View notes
survey--s · 3 years ago
Text
123.
Tumblr media
Have you ever left your front door unlocked all night? No, but my mum did once and when they woke up, they found that they’d been burgled while they slept and the car had been stolen off the drive. I always double and triple check all the doors now, lol.
Do you prefer cold or warm weather? Warm weather, but no more than around 22-23 degrees please.
The last advertisement you saw: What was it advertising? I don’t remember - I watch everything on catch-up so it’s mostly all ad-free these day. 
Do you prefer bar or liquid soap? Liquid.
Do you wear any perfumes / colognes on a regular basis? I wear some kind of scent or body spray, yeah. Today is coconut and vanilla.
Do you have high or low self esteem levels? An average self-esteem, I guess? 
When was the last time you listened to a song on repeat? What was the song? I don’t remember - I don’t tend to do that very often anymore.
How do you feel about being in the house alone? I absolutely love being home alone. I find it really peaceful.
What was the last compliment you received? I honestly don’t remember.
Do you like mint or orange flavored chocolate? I prefer mint, but yes, both are good.
How often do you get spots? Like, pimples? I only get them these days when I have to wear a mask. Luckily, they’re no longer enforceable here so I don’t bother, though I do have some in my car just in case I need one.
Do you believe that when your ears burn someone is talking about you? Ha, I remember believing that as a kid. But no, I obviously don’t believe it as an adult.
Are you a good host when visitors come over or do you wish they’d leave? I only invite people if I want them here, so I’m a good host, but I also make sure they don’t/can’t outstay their welcome by making sure I have plans a few hours later lol. I don’t mind having guests but I don’t like feeling as though my house is being invaded by other people.
When was the last time you burnt your mouth from eating something too hot? This morning on a mug of coffee.
What is your favorite foreign language to listen to? (In music or speech) French or Italian.
Do you prefer instrumental songs or ones with lyrics? Ones with lyrics.
Name something simple that makes you happy. When my grumpy cat chooses to come and sit with me.
What is your favorite instrument to listen to? Piano or acoustic guitar.
Pick one: Books, movies or music? Books.
Do you carry a bag around with you often? What does it look like? Nope.
Do you like your natural hair color? I do now, but I definitely remember going through a phase where I hated it.
Do you delete your emails / texts often? Yes, both. I like a neat and tidy inbox.
What was the last book you read about? It’s a dark, adult take on Alice Through the Looking Glass.
What color are the walls in the room you’re in? Two are dark red, two are grey.
Did you dress up last Halloween? As what? I’ve never dressed up for Halloween in my life, lol. Last Halloween I worked during the day and then we watched movies in the evening.
Do you have any old friends who you still kinda speak to but it’s awkward? Yeah, definitely. It’s not that we’ve fallen out, we’ve just grown up and now lead totally separate lives, so it’s just a bit stilted when we do hang out.
Name one of your favorite memories. Our wedding day. 
Are you a polite person? I mean, I’m polite until I feel as though I’m given a reason not to be.
When was the last time you used a quote from a movie in real life? Yesterday - he didn’t get it, lol.
Have you ever used a chat-up line that actually worked? Not seriously.
Can you put your legs behind your head? No.
Do you forget things easily? No, I have a weirdly good memory which isn’t always a good thing.
The last song you listened to: Did it have a male or female vocalist? I don’t remember, male I think?
Is the heating on in your house currently? Yeah - well, it’s set to come on if it goes below 19.5 degrees, anyway.
Do you often find toothpaste too minty? Sometimes.
Have you ever had braces? Do you need them? No. I do have crooked bottom teeth but they weren’t considered enough of a problem for braces at the time.
Are you a subscriber to any magazines? Which? No.
What does your voice sound like? (Loud, quiet, high pitched, etc) I’m fairly soft spoken.
2 notes · View notes
bag-of-broadway-snacks · 4 years ago
Text
My Cats Non-Replica Pt. 1
Here, for your viewing pleasure and no body’s request, I give you- My ideal Cats non-replica production. Now complete with drawings that make eyes bleed!  This is a part one so stay tuned and let me know what you think for 2! (Also this is long as fuck sooo)
Overture Okay, so this production is heavily based on my ragdoll au idea from very long ago. Basically, the production takes place in a little girl’s bedroom. During the overture, we see the girl who own’s the room in front of a curtain, playing with a rag doll version of Munkustrap. As the overture ends, the girl’s mother (double cast as Grizabella) moved onto stage and gestures for the girl to follow. So the girl sets her doll of Munkustrap on a chair and moves backstage. Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats So the curtain lifts revealing the set. We can see large window in the background (with functioning curtains). There’s several things around the room, a bookshelf, a toy chest, a lamp, a doll bed, a teapot, a fallen over hat, and a play tunnel.
Tumblr media
Next to the toy chest, there’s also a chair, a bigger replica of the one we saw in the overture. Slumped over on the chair is Munkustrap, sitting seemingly still until his cue. On his cue, he perks up, looking a cross between the usual cats make up and a rag doll. He gets up as many other cat/toys appear out of various corners of the room. Before singing ‘Are you blind when you’re born?’ Munkustrap looks to the window as the curtains open, revealing a large moon in the background. Prompting the Jellicle ball. The rest of the song continues as normal. (Because there aren’t changes, the naming of the cats progresses as normal) Invitation to the Jellicle Ball So this song continues normally, Victoria dancing her solo before Misto starting up the song. In this version, I imagine the little girl will be shortly going on a trip and is allowed to bring only one toy. The Jellicle choice is to decide who will go with her. The Heaviside layer in this case being the outside world. The Old Gumbie Cat To start off the night, Munkustrap begins singing the Old Gumbie Cat, this time however, rather then a car Jennyanydots enters through the toy chest. Misto going over and undoing the latches before lifting the lid with magic. Jennyanydots is half swaddled in a large, leopard print blanket thats extremely fluffy but limited in movement. During the Gumbie Trio’s first verse she has her normal interactions with ‘The mice’ on the side of the stage. In the background, the other cats are scattering toys and paper across the stage in chaos. During the Gumbie Trio’s second verse, Jenny turns around and is shocked at the mess the others have made. Ever orderly, she throws off her blanket to reveal a leopard spot dress and a tiger stripped apron. The tap number in this case being replaced with a choreographed clean up of the room. With Jenny’s ‘Cockroaches’ who are clothed with tissue paper wings, pipe cleaner antenna, and big glasses for eyes. Once the room is clean again Jenny thanks them and the song ends.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Rum Tum Tugger This one may be my favorite. So as Jenny’s number trails off she continues to move about the room and tidy things up. She goes up to a tipped over tea pot, preparing to put it upright before the lid is pushed off, causing her to jump in surprise. Out of the tea pot comes Rum Tum Tugger, a particularly fluffy rag doll. He looks very similar to his replica design with a few differences. His spots are more obvious and patchy looking, giving us the idea that he’s even worn and repaired with leopard cloth by the child’s mother. Around one leg his tied a pink ribbon and his ‘belt’ is actually a girl’s hairband he’s been dressed up with. He’s also wearing a black biker vest that most likely came from a doll of some sort. He runs around the room, riling up the others with his flirting and generally causing his usual chaos. In this world he’s extremely popular, being one of the owner’s favorite toys. Of course, all the fun stops abruptly as Grizabella appears, crawling out from behind the bookshelf. Grizabella the Glamour Cat
The cats quickly scatter as Grizabella approaches. She’s a beat up toy, ragged with stuffing sticking out in different places. She’s been chewed on by a couple dogs after venturing out of the room to try and find a different place. The scene mostly progresses as normal, everyone shying away from her, the kittens trying to get close but being warded off by the elder toys. Munkustrap shows no emotion but does gently gesture for Griz to leave before things get worse which she obliges, slowly walking away while her song is song behind her. Bustopher Jones
The mood quickly lifts as Bustopher Jones arrives! He’s a wind up toy, big because of all his fancy mechanics and not used very much thus looking extremely well taken care off. They all great him as normal, turning over a hat for him to sit on while presenting him with different plastic foods for him to eat. They even use a sock as a napkin for him. However the atmosphere of fun is broken quickly as the hear aggressive shouting in the background. (Which is the  distance voice of the girl’s older brother) they scream Macavity before running for the hills, hiding in various places in the room. Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer  As the stage empties, a large puppet theatre is wheeled out. We hear Rumpelteazer’s laughs before the theatre curtain opens, revealing two stringless puppets, Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer leap out of the puppet stage and begin their number doing a healthy mix of acrobatics and tearing around the bookshelf, tossing books around and making a show of stealing things like pens and one sock from a pair. Rumpelteazer is wearing a plastic bracelet as a necklace of sorts. They cause their usual mix of chaos before being found out by the rest of the tribe and chased onto the toy box for the next number.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Old Deuteronomy  The next song begins as normal, cats pointing out they sense the Jellicle leader and Munkustrap beginning the song with Tugger and the others joining in later. Slowly, Old D enters the stage. He’s a large, cat themed baby blanket and was the girl’s first ever toy and is thus a ‘father’ to Munkustrap and Tugger. (Who are the girl’s favorites) He greets the tribe before sitting on the chair to observe the ball. The Aweful Battle of the Pekes and the Pollicles Okay so this basically goes as normal so I won’t describe what happens so much as the designs. So the Pollicles are the toms. They wear dangly earrings hanging off their ears to imitate dog ears, dry erase marker caps on their hands to make their feet, and plastic baggies for their other feet. The Pekes are the queens. They wear socks with holes on their heads, and mittens and bags for their hands and feet. The poms merely have little pom pom hair ties fastened around their ears. Now the Rumpus Cat is the most interesting one here. He’ll be double cast as Admetus and is a nightlight. He has a big Cheshire cat light up mask and a light up chest plate as well with a big R on his chest. Other parts of him will ideally light up as well. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I’m going to skip a bit here, all the way to the second act as there wasn’t much of note during the Jellicle ball portion.
26 notes · View notes
sockablock · 5 years ago
Link
When in sudden need of a place to stay, Caleb Widogast finds a room for rent at a price so low he can’t believe his luck. Ignoring the concerns of his friends, he moves in and quickly finds himself tangled up in the life of one Essek Thelyss, a reclusive scholar who may be even stranger than Caleb himself...
(start) - (previous) - (next)
Chapter 2: A Name to the Face
Tumblr media
The sun lanced arcs across Caleb’s face as he set his phone down on the nightstand, and yawned.
He’d gotten used to sleeping in strange places during the last few years of his life, and there was a part of him that missed the coziness of his room back in his and Nott’s apartment. But the other part of him, namely the part comprised of bruises from too-narrow walls—relished in this chance to stretch out a little.
Eventually, he managed to sit up. The mattress did not dip sullenly with his weight, indicative of its newness and quality.
He glanced around. The door was closed, though Frumpkin was nowhere to be seen. Then again, mundane cats were already hard enough to confine; as a feline of the fey persuasion, Frumpkin went where Frumpkin pleased.
Caleb took his sweet time making the bed, adjusting the blinds, peering out the window over quiet streets, before eventually rifling through his cardboard boxes for something proper to wear. He also made a mental note to, at some point, ask Mr. Thelyss how the laundry worked.
Then he straightened his collar, took a deep breath, and wandered out into the kitchen.
Jester was nose-deep in a box of cinnamon rolls when Beauregard emerged from the shower. Peals of steam curled past the doorframe and dissipated out into the hallway.
“I thought those were supposed to last us the week,” Beau said when she noticed her roommate. “Didn’t we decide we wouldn’t go back to the bakery until Thursday?”
“Oh, but Beau,” icing shimmered in the corner of Jester’s mouth. “Beau, they’re just so tasty. I can’t resist.”
Beauregard pulled the towel off her head and gave her hair one last muss-up. Then she slung herself backwards into a chair and stole some frosting.
“Fair enough,” she licked a finger. “Just be sure to save something for Yasha when she gets back.”
“Back?” Jester’s cheerful demeanor vanished. “Oh, no, did she leave again? I thought she was done doing that!”
“Oh, no she didn’t run off, I think she just went to some errands, or something?” Beau scratched the side of her head. “She mentioned something about seeing a butcher.”
“Oh.” Jester relaxed. “Well that’s alright, then. Though we don’t really cook much.”
“Maybe she’s trying something new. It’s better than eating rats all the time, right?”
Jester gave this due consideration. “I think she only did that once. And then Fjord threw up, so she decided to stop.”
“Hm,” Beau shrugged. “I guess that’s nice of her. Oh, hey, speaking of stopping, what the hell is up with Caleb? Has he responded? With pictures and actual information?”
Jester groaned. “He’s being a real butt about it. He’s obviously there, but he isn’t sending us anything good.”
Beau raised a cinnamon roll. “The bastard.”  
— 
In the light of day, Mr. Thelyss’s kitchen gleamed with tidiness and disuse. In fact, it seemed like only the coffeemaker and microwave ever got any attention from their owner.
Caleb added another step to his mental moving day to-do-list: find the nearest grocery store and get some cereal. And coffee. And maybe a loaf of bread, if he was feeling extravagant.
He settled instead for pouring himself a glass of water and vowing that he would at least pick up lunch once he actually ventured outside. He slid into the kitchen, found a neutral-looking glass cup, and filled it up in the sink.
When he turned, he realized that something was different about the counter.
The little box of cheesecake was gone.
There was a note left, however. It read: Thank you very much, Mr. Widogast.
So, Caleb thought to himself. This meant that his mystery landlord had come home at some point in the night. And…as his gaze drifted past the kitchen and over to the front door of the apartment…yes, there in the foyer was a pair of shoes and a fine, but thin, black cloak.
Caleb had never seen anything like it before. It seemed as if the pattern had been designed to almost be worn like some kind of long poncho. Its hem brushed just over the floor.
What kind of person would wear something like this? The amused thought of vampire briefly flickered through his mind, but he shook it off and chalked it up to spending too much time with Jester.
He glanced back at the note. Something in him also registered: charmingly polite.
He shook his head. Speaking of Jester, he still had a promise to fulfill…
— 
“Fjord, those are ugly.”
“What? I think they look nice—”
“Nice won’t cut it! I need something amazing! It’s been months since I’ve last seen Yeza. I have to really blow him away.”
“Look, what you see is what we’ve got. And anyway, what’s wrong with Delphiniums—”
Nott was standing on a small turquoise stool that some of the more vertically-challenged customers of the Blooming Grove required to reach the counter. Her finger was swaying dangerously underneath the nose of a long-time friend and even longer-time frenemy, Fjord, currently on register duty.
All around them, the sweet and mellow scent of dozens upon dozens of coastal flowers twirled and trilled and danced through the air. Large windows set into the pale green walls let in sunlight and a view of the gardens out back.
“They’re blue!” Nott screeched. “I don’t want blue, Yeza’s going to think I’m not happy to see him!”
“Everyone likes blue,” Fjord said defensively. “Just look at Jester. She’s practically got a fan club. Fine, fine,” he added, when her expression didn’t change, “I can do you some roses—”
“Roses are cliché.”
“They’re a goddamn symbol of love, Nott.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I don’t just want a symbol of love, I want a symbol of…of passion. Of devotion. Of l—”
“Look, just wait a bit, and Caduceus will be back. He’s the one who actually knows the names of all these things,” Fjord sighed. “He’ll be able to tell you if those even are Delphiniums.”
There was a moment’s pause.
“How have you managed to keep this job, Fjord?”
“I don’t have to help you, you know.”
“Technically, I think you d—"
And then, their phones buzzed.
Tumblr media
— 
Nott glanced back at Fjord.
“Do you think he doesn’t know?”
Fjord shrugged. “Let’s just see what he says.”
Nott groaned. “It’ll probably be hours until we find out.”
Tumblr media
“He’s going to die tonight, then,” said Beau, kicking off her sneakers. The front door shut behind her with a click. “That’s, like, the first rule to committing a crime. Don’t let them see your face.”
“I think it’s kind of romantic,” Jester said. Now she was in the living room, sprawled across the couch. “It’s like…a forbidden meeting. Maybe he’ll never find out what Essie looks like. Isn’t that sad?”
“Essek,” Beau corrected, and set her keys aside. “And I don’t see what’s so sad about that.”
“Oh, but it is,” Jester lavished in her sigh. “The saddest and loneliest kind of thing. To never see who you’re living with? If you can’t even put a face to the name, you might as well be sharing your house with a ghost.”
Beau raised an eyebrow. “That’s…a little dramatic, but I see what you mean. Anyway, this is a point against the guy. In my books, that is. And I’m keeping track.”
“Oh? How many points does he have?”
Beau joined her on the couch and crossed her arms. “Not many. He’s mysterious, and weird. Those are negatives. Standoffish, if he didn’t even greet Caleb on the first day. And if he isn’t a criminal, and is actually renting out a place that cheap, he must be a total idiot. Or desperate.”
“For what?” Jester asked.
She shrugged. “Who knows? The company?”
— 
Essek was, as a matter of fact, quite desperate. Desperate for another five minutes of sleep.
It was now long after the Mighty Nein had given up on their interrogation, though he was not aware of this. Instead, what was most on his mind was the strange…the odd vibrating right next to his head.
Blindly, he reached out to slap his alarm. His hand connected, but the noise did not stop.
Then he realized that it was coming from the other side of the bed.
He shuffled around to take a peek.
An eye was staring back at him. Large and blue.
“What in the name of the L—”
The cat yawned, and its mouth stretched open to reveal rows of teeth.
Essek hesitated. He rubbed his face.
“How did…what is…”
And then the puzzle pieces slid into place.  
He racked his brain for the name.
“F…Fr…Frumpkin?” he guessed.
The cat yawned again. This time, it followed the gesture up with a mrpf, and unfurled its body. And stretched.
“Hm,” said Essek. “He did…warn me, but…I am not sure if I approve of you coming in here like this. Without announcement, especially.”
Frumpkin stared back up at him. He tilted his head and put on his most endearing expression.
“Well,” Essek relented in the onslaught of this, “at least you don’t seem to be the kind that sheds. Actually…”
He leaned in as close as he dared, a pair of icy eyes tracking his every movement.
“…actually, I’m not at all sure what kind of kitty you are. Your ears are…very long. And your markings are…”
And then Essek realized.
“A familiar?”
Frumpkin blinked at him.
— 
Caleb had found the grocery store on his second try, and had also made note of a bookstore and bus stop on the way there. Now, after a long day of scouting out the neighborhood, he was back in his bedroom again, sorting clothes. No use in holding off, after all, not even if it made him feel slightly strange to be putting all his things away in someone else’s bedroom.
He picked up a t-shirt and examined the back. STAFF, it read. He had no idea for what. The Broad Barn’s secondhand clothing pile was vague at best and hazardous at worst.
Another part of Caleb, the part not fully consumed by the current task at hand, registered the faintest sound outside. It was ruled out as being not important.
Caleb produced another shirt. This one had a picture of a cat on it, red beams of light shooting out from its eyes. This had been a New Dawn present from—surprising to everyone—Yasha.
It had thus far found a long and happy life as the top half of Caleb’s pajamas. He’d tried to wear it in public once, and been bullied mercilessly by Beauregard.
On the other side of the room, past the drawers and the bed, was a small folding table that had been set up by Essek, likely as a desk. It was the sort of low contraption that eliminated any possibility of chairs, but it made a lot of sense for apartment living and was sized well enough for sitting on the floor. It was miles above Caleb’s old arrangement, a piece of plywood on a milk crate.
Right now, this new desk was covered in reams upon reams of notebook paper. Contrary to expectation, however, this paper was not lined with the standard narrow rule of most academic stationary. Instead, a pattern of lines and circles extended out from the center of the page, covering every inch in an odd spiral. Dozens upon dozens of these sheets were strewn about now, with hasty pencil-markings splattered across the page.
A particularly keen-eyed individual might have noticed that some of the markings were crossed-out. Redoubled, re-arranged, re-placed, or removed.
A particularly keen-eyed individual with the right kind of background would have noticed immediately that many of these runes were transmutative.
Back on his side of the bed, Caleb was humming.
— 
When the cat—the familiar, likely a fey one, at that—did not decide to claw Essek’s eyes out, he gingerly picked it up under its forearms and carried it out of his bedroom.
He entered the living room, and saw that it was empty. The curtains were drawn open, however, and at this point the late-summer sun was just beginning to crest low over the horizon.
Essek raised an eyebrow at Frumpkin. “So. Where is your master, hm?”
Frumpkin meowed. It meant absolutely nothing to Essek, but he nodded anyway on principle.
“I understand that you are…well, from what I think I know about ordinary cats, you might like to wander around. But the same rules that apply to your wizard apply to you as well, okay?”
He walked Frumpkin into the living room and put him down on the couch.
“I would appreciate it if you did not enter my bedroom without invitation. The study as well, yes? Meow if you understand.”
Frumpkin stared at him. Frumpkin opened his mouth. Frumpkin closed it again.
It was a vague enough gesture that Essek could not tell if this was a response. He sighed.
“This is why I never bothered with getting one of you, you know. And I’m not even talking about the food bills. Er…do you eat?”
Frumpkin repeated the gesture. Essek repeated it back at the cat in a burst of childish impulse, then caught himself.
Gods, talking to Verin yesterday must have put him in an odd mood. And his brother had kept going on and on about life back in Rosohna, about how wonderful it is, Essek, how much Mother misses you, Essek, how I wish you’d visit, Essek—all that nostalgia couldn’t be good for the mind. Especially when unsolicited.
Still, this did not stop him from checking his messages in the kitchen while he waited for his morning—afternoon—evening—coffee to brew. In the background, Frumpkin rolled over on the sofa. Verin had mentioned something that he’d wanted to talk about, that he’d send over later…
Essek opened up their conversation. Then he scowled.
— 
A solitary figure stalked through the dimming streets of Nicodranas. She stretched, working out the knots in her back, upper arms, feeling the scabs on her knuckles and their sting.
She grinned, wide and toothy, in the sunset.
Unconventional, but it worked.
— 
Caleb had a perfect memory, and never forget anything. As such, the three core tenets of his tenancy in this apartment were virtually scored into his mind.
Be quiet. Be organized. And do the recycling.
Now he stood outside the apartment complex. The winding streets formed a gentle little plaza where the neighboring buildings all shared an open space, which included the public recycling cans.
There hadn’t actually been that much to take out, aside from an empty carton of ramen, a few cat food tins, and some assorted items that Mr. Thelyss must have left behind last night. Still, Caleb had wanted to prove how serious he was about following the Code of Conduct, and so had made the journey downstairs to be a responsible citizen.
The breeze wound around his ankles. Nearby, a few kids were running around with their mother, and a jogger moseyed past their street. It was a peaceful sight, underscored by the distant call of gulls and a setting sun.
Caleb had just nudged open the lid of the recycling bin when the shouting began.
Actually, it was less of a shouting and more of a heated argument, augmented by the harsh syllables of a language that Caleb did not recognize.
If he had, it would have sounded something like this:
“—impossible! I refuse. I did not give my permission—”
“Permission? Why would she need your permission—”
“Because it is my house! And this is my city—”
“Your city? Brother, you’ve only been there a few months—”
“It’s been a year and a half, Verin. A peaceful year and a half, mind.”
“Really? Well, I am certain it will remain that. And anyway, she’s not even going there for you.”
“Hah! I have a feeling that she is visiting Nicodranas expressly to do so. The gala is just an excuse for her to come here and poke into everything I’m doing—”
“Look, look, don’t shout at me. I am just the messenger. If you’re so upset, go and call Mother—”
Caleb swung the bag into the can. As he closed the lid, his curiosity got the better of him and he found himself surreptitiously scanning the perimeter with the universal creep of eavesdroppers everywhere.
Quickly, he found the source of the sound. There was a figure standing in front of his building, pacing back and forth underneath the awning, waving one hand around in frustration. The shadows prevented him from getting a better look, but the figure seemed lithe, and very annoyed.
Caleb would have to slip past him to get back inside.
Tactically, he pulled out his phone and pretended to be incredibly engrossed with its contents. Luckily, it seemed to work—and out of the corner of his eye he even noticed the figure hastily stepping aside.
Then, unluckily, the figure followed him.
Caleb didn’t dare look up. But he could feel the stranger’s presence trail him all the way into the elevator, then settle down next to him as the doors slid shut.
Caleb went to hit the number four. So did the stranger. Their fingers collided.
“Ah—"
“Scheisse, I am sor—”
And then he stopped.
Caleb Widogast was decidedly not a man of the world. He’d never left the continent of Wildemount, for instance, nor could he claim to have seen everything it had to offer. But he had fancied himself rather well-read, and believed that he perhaps had experienced more than the average person.
This was the first time in his life that he’d seen a dark elf.
He knew that they existed, of course, but in the way that he knew the names of far-off places, as distant trivia irrelevant to his life. He knew, for example, that they were native to Xhorhas, and that many of their societies lived underground. He knew that their closest civilization was ruled by a powerful queen. He also knew that in less-polite circles, some Empire elites still believed them to be backwater savages and monsters.
This one was wearing a green t-shirt. His hair was a messy sweep to one side.
“—ry.” He finished, as quickly as he could.
The dark elf shrugged. His eyes—a pale slate gray—took in Caleb’s appearance, then the number they’d both pressed.
“I do not recall ever seeing you,” the elf said. His voice was still a little strained, as if something from before—that argument, perhaps—was bothering him immensely.
“I, ah, I’m new,” Caleb said.
The elf raised an eyebrow. “I see.”
Then he turned back around to stare at the door. Caleb was more than happy not to engage. He just hoped he hadn’t stared long enough to offend a potential neighbor.
The elevator rose three floors. On the fourth one, it stopped.
He quickly ducked out, sandals pattering on the ground, and it was only once he’d gotten to the door of his apartment and started to punch in the code that he realized the elf was still behind him, still standing there, still annoyed, and so he turned—
— 
“Excuse me,” said Essek tetchily. “Why are you entering my home?”
The human blinked.
“Er…this is…where I live.”
“What? But—”
For the second time that day, Essek realized.
“Um,” said Caleb Widogast. “Would your last name...happen to be ‘Thelyss’?”
— — —
✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN
134 notes · View notes
floral-and-fine · 5 years ago
Text
La Doular Exquise
Greg Lestrade x female reader
Mycroft Holmes x female reader (but one sided)
A/n: Suddenly had this idea even though I haven’t written anything for Sherlock before, but since I’ve been spending so much time at home, I’ve been re-watching a lot of shows! Anyways, I really like the direction this story ended up going, I may write a part 2 :) (Also think it’s been a long time since I’ve played Charades so sorry in advance)
Thank you @luna-xial​ for the help with the title!
Summary: Greg Lestrade is in a new relationship with y/n, and to everyone, they appear very happy together and very much in love. Surprisingly, Mycroft finds himself longing for something similar. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“What’s wrong with Lestrade?” Sherlock questioned, staring at the inspector instead of scrutinizing the crime scene for clues.
“What do you mean what’s wrong with him?” John asked looking up from the dead body.
“He’s happy, very happy…” Sherlock muttered, narrowing his eyes. Slowly, he stood from his crouched position, no longer interested in the case.
“And that’s a problem?” John questioned in disbelief, he didn’t quite understand what Sherlock was getting at. “Also, shouldn’t we be focusing on what happened here?”
“Already figured it out,” Sherlock stated, stepping over the body, trying to get closer to Lestrade. “Isn’t it obvious?”
John looked at the scene before him, dead body on the ground dressed in a mascot costume, the man had somehow managed to drown despite not being anywhere near water and his costume was still completely dry.
“No it’s not,” he said, throwing his arms up in frustration.
For a few brief seconds, Sherlock observed Lestrade closely, before a smirk formed on his lips. “Aha!” He laughed triumphantly. “Gordon’s been dating someone… a woman… considerably younger as well.”
John shook his head, “how can you tell?”
“Well, for one the dramatic change in attitude, plus telling by his clothes and hair he’s taken a new interest in his appearance, typical of those in a budding relationship.”
“And how do you know she’s younger?” John pressed.
“See how he keeps checking his phone,” Sherlock pointed out. “He’s using a messaging app used by young adults, rather than middle-aged men.”
“So?”
“So,” Sherlock elaborated, with an eye roll, “he smiles like an idiot every time he gets a new message, hence, that's how he and his new girlfriend are communicating.”
John watched as Lestrade checked his phone again, pulling it out from his jacket pocket when he assumed no one was looking. He really did smile like an idiot, grinning from ear to ear as he quickly typed his reply.
“Good for him,” he said sincerely, John knew how difficult it could be trying to date, especially with a job like his. He deserved to be happy, especially after that nasty divorce he went through.
Tucking his phone back into his jacket, Greg noticed the pair watching him.
“Any ideas as to what happened here?” He asked, approaching them.
“Yes,” Sherlock said spiritlessly. “But it’s rather boring and dull, I’d rather talk about the woman you’re seeing.”
“Oh, you already noticed that?” Greg rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “We’ve only been out a few times, we’re not exactly official yet.”
“Are you concerned about the age difference?” Sherlock interrogated, not caring how rude it sounded.
“Sherlock,” John muttered trying to urge his friend to shut up.
Greg just laughed lightly and shrugged, “honestly, I thought I would be, but I’m not.” Another big grin appeared on his face just at the thought of her. “I’m quite surprised by it all.”
“Well, why don’t you bring her for Christmas, so we can properly meet her?” John suddenly suggested.
Sherlock groaned loudly, he had forgotten all about the holidays, completely forgetting that his parents would be visiting. . . .
Mycroft stood outside of his brother’s flat, enjoying a quick smoke, before joining in on the festivities. He could barely keep himself from rolling his eyes, if it weren’t for the fact his parents were expecting him, he wouldn’t have bothered to come at all.
He sighed, knowing that he couldn’t postpone this much longer. Eventually, his mother would track him down and he’d be scolded like a child for making everyone wait.
Just as he was about to put out his cigarette, a taxi pulled up to the curb, and a woman, who Mycroft didn’t recognize, stepped out of the vehicle.
His eyes narrowed in suspicion, he knew everyone, and he literally meant everyone, his little brother was acquainted with. Rapidly, Mycroft assessed the stranger, she appeared relatively harmless, worked as a daycare worker or teacher perhaps. She dressed quite nicely and sensibly for the weather. Telling by the hair stuck to her jumper, she either had a cat or dog at home.
“Merry Christmas!” She greeted, waving at him cheerfully.
Mycroft nodded his head in acknowledgment, saying Merry Christmas back in rather bleak fashion. His eyes darted back towards the taxi as another person got out.
“Merry Christmas!” Inspector Lestrade waved.
The couple approached him, and Lestrade made quick introductions, “Mycroft, this is y/n.”
She extended her hand out, “Nice to meet, Mycroft.”
Mycroft took in several more details, before finally accepting her hand, like the shade of her nail polish to the choice of her shoes.
“Heard you’re smarter than your brother,” she complimented. “That’s pretty impressive.”
“I suppose,” Mycroft commented dryly.
“Well, we better go say hello to everyone else,” Lestrade said, nodding at Mycroft before taking y/n by the hand and leading her towards the door. The poor fool was smiling so big that it made him look completely mad.
“Aren’t you coming?” Y/n called out to Mycroft, her eyes filled with excitement before Lestrade knocked on the door.
“I’ll be up in a moment,” Mycroft said, taking out another cigarette and lighting it. . . .
As Mycroft entered the flat he noted that Mrs. Hudson and his parents were in the kitchen chatting away and preparing food. Molly sat watching Sherlock play violin awestruck. John and his date stood close by whispering to each other. And then there was y/n and Lestrade standing by the fireplace completely in their own world.
After saying a quick Merry Christmas to his parents, Mycroft sat alone on the couch. He wasn’t planning on staying long, just long enough that his mother wouldn’t complain about him leaving so early.
From the other side of the room, Lestrade groaned as his phone started ringing, giving his date a quick kiss, he excused himself taking the call in the hallway.
Y/n stood by the fireplace, her nails anxiously tapping against the side of her glass. Her eyes scanned the room until she spotted Mycroft sitting alone on the couch. “Mind if I join you?”
Mycroft nodded, scooting over a bit. He sat with his legs crossed, elbow resting on the arm of the couch with an umbrella in hand.
“Not planning on staying long?” She joked, gesturing to the umbrella.
Mycroft half smiled, “Just prepared to leave early, should things go awry.”
Y/n chuckled and continued to sip on her drink. They sat next to one another, in comfortable silence, while she patiently waited for Greg to return.
“Your brother plays very well,” she whispered, watching Sherlock who seemed like he was elsewhere mentally.
Mycroft was about to respond until he was suddenly interrupted.
“Sorry, love,” Greg said, abruptly re-entering the room walking towards y/n.  “That was work, afraid I have to go in.”
“That’s alright,” she reassured him, standing up and wrapping her arms around his neck. “It can’t be helped.”
With that she pressed her lips against his, Lestrade was quick to return the kiss, placing his hands on her waist.
Mycroft found himself looking the other way, uncharacteristically bothered by the display of affection taking place before him.
“I’ll call you tonight,” Greg murmured quietly, before he reluctantly pulled away from her, and grabbed his coat. “Merry Christmas, everyone!” He shouted as he rushed out the door.
Y/n clasped her hands together, looking around the room, “Well, I suppose I should go too.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, dear,” Mrs. Hudson tutted, waltzing into the living area carrying a tray with tea. “At least stay long enough to have something to eat.”
“Guess I could keep Mycroft company awhile longer,” she smiled, taking her seat back on the couch next to him. “If that’s alright with you?” She asked him.
“Be my guest.”
The rest of the evening progressed full of merriment, food, drinking, and Christmas carols.
At some point, Mrs. Holmes started sharing stories about Mycroft and Sherlock from when they were children. Which everyone found quite amusing with the exception of her sons, who shared an unamused look as she continued to describe the time she found them covered in some type of slime after a failed experiment.
Mycroft risked a quick glance at y/n who was hiding her laughter behind her hand. Watching her react so lively made him smile to himself, not that it lasted long. As soon as he noticed, he returned to grimacing as his mother started another story, this one was about when. Sherlock had borrowed his clothes and pretended to be his big brother for a whole week. . . .
“Why don’t we play a game,” John’s date suggested.
After some debate, the group finally settled on playing Charades. Somehow Mycroft had been roped into being y/n’s partner. Although She seemed rather pleased by it.
“Merry go round!” Sherlock shouted, staring at Molly, and becoming more irate by the second. “Ferris wheel! Clock!”
“Times up!” John announced, sounding rather pleased.
“Well, what was it?” Sherlock demanded.
“The solar system,” Molly muttered quietly, handing him the card.
Sherlock scoffed, “Who needs to know anything about the solar system! This game is ridiculous! Utter waste of time!”
“Stop being such a rotten sport!” His mother reprimanded from the kitchen, where she was helping Mrs. Hudson tidy up.
“Well, Mycroft and y/n it’s your turn,” John said, holding out the cards to y/n.
Mycroft watched her movements intently, “a book, two words…” he furrowed his brow slightly as he watched y/n imitate the action of stabbing or perhaps using a spear? Then a subtle smile appeared on his face. “Moby Dick.”
Y/n bounced up and down clapping excitedly, “you got it!”
Mycroft chuckled, feeling rather pleased with himself, and for a brief moment, he had forgotten that you weren’t with him. That y/n wasn’t in fact his date. He had been having such a good time that it had seemed to have slipped his mind.
His smile faltered, feeling rather odd about whatever he was feeling, but he hid it well, especially as she showered him with praise.
As John and his date took their turns, the game seemed to fade into the background. In his own head, Mycroft was having a rather difficult time trying to process what he was feeling.
He didn’t understand at all what he found so agreeable about her, why her company didn’t aggravate him. Typically, he became at least moderately annoyed being around anyone for such a long period of time.
Y/n gently placed her hand on Mycroft knee, “are you alright?”
Mycroft quirked an eyebrow in response, caught off guard that she noticed a change in his behavior.
“You’re just somehow quieter,” she explained, tilting her head.
“It’s nothing,” Mycroft replied with a small smile. Even despite all the confusion he felt, he managed to enjoy the rest of his time with y/n.
Finally, the night was coming to an end. Being the gentleman that he was, he stood outside with y/n as she waited for a cab.
“I had lots of fun tonight,” she shared suddenly. “Thank you for including me.”
“Of course,” he nodded, once again smiling all of a sudden.
Soon the taxi approached, and Mycroft got the door for her. He felt a sinking feeling in his gut, he wanted her to stay just a little longer, or he wanted to join her on her ride home. However, neither option was appropriate.
“Good night, Mycroft,” she said, as she climbed into the backseat.“And Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, y/n.”
...
Walking into his large home, Mycroft removed his coat hanging it up on the rack and placed his umbrella by the door.
He didn’t understand why this bothered him so much. Mycroft had encountered plenty of other happy couples before, but none of them had ever left him with this feeling of jealousy and loneliness.
As much as he tried to deny it, he knew deep down he envied Lestrade, which for Mycroft, was a hard pill to swallow. Before y/n, he practically pitied the detective. But now the inspector had something that Mycroft wanted.
What was so bewildering about it, was that he had never wanted something like that before. He never cared for or wanted any type of companionship or relationship. It seemed so frivolous,
But now his mind wandered to the what if’s, such as, what would it be like to not come home alone.
Despite his better judgment, Mycroft gave into his imagination. The downside of having a mind like his is that was how he could picture things so clearly in his head.
He could practically see her now, slightly tipsy, clinging to his arm with one hand for stability as she removes her shoes. Then, he would hear the soft pitter-patter of her bare feet as she made her way to the bedroom.
Mycroft started to loosen his tie as he walked towards his room.
As he would enter, he would find her jumper and leggings strewn about on the floor. But instead of making it an issue now, he’d ask her to pick them up in the morning.
Mycroft headed towards his closet, undressing and putting on his pajamas.
As he would step back into the room, y/n would pop her head through the door of the master bathroom, with a toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. She’d smile widely at him before finishing. “Almost done!” She would call out to him.
Mycroft turned out the light and climbed into bed. Despite having such a large bed to himself, he always slept on one side, never really spreading out.
He pictured what it would be like for y/n to join him in bed. She’d gently kiss him good night, before resting her head against his chest. He imagined what it would be like to hold her, feel the warmth radiating off her form, to caress her back in a soothing manner until she fell asleep.
Mycroft groaned loudly, rolling over and burying his face against his pillow. There was no point in indulging himself with these fantasies any longer. No matter how clearly he could picture it, this alternate life, there was nothing he could do to change his reality. She simply wasn’t his.
202 notes · View notes