#like... its cleaning day and everyone comes out of their homes with rackets and sticks to beat the shit out of each other in home's backyar

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

there are two kinds of people in this world:

committed to science

and funny

and both are cherished and appreciated

hey if puppets bathed how would they do that. if with water they'd get waterlogged and wouldn't be able to move until they dried enough, i presume. plus that can cause Damage. what the fuck do they do to get the grime off

[jeonqquk]

racket | jjk

↳pairing: jungkook x reader ↳genre/tags: badmintonplayer!jungkook and badmintonplayer!reader, barely any badminton related stuff, rushed asf, accidental confession-?, they dont even kiss wtf ↳rating: everyone <3 ↳wc: 6k

Jeon Jungkook was capable of being the eighth wonder of the world. He may not have come into existence in the 1700s but his ability to do almost everything perfectly was bewildering. Whether it be eating an entire cake in the span of a half-hour or defeating even the coaches at badminton. 

Everybody loved Jungkook, his sweet and caring nature paired with those godly features attracted everyone to him- in many ways. Unfortunately, you weren’t part of the everybody lot. 

You hated Jungkook. Absolutely despised his abhorrent ass. So much so that if he were the last person alive, you’d even kill yourself just to stay away from him. But that was highly unlikely, so you weren’t going to kill yourself. 

The hatred had just always been there, his competitive side seeming fucking atrocious to you. The feeling was mutual, though, so you didn’t feel as guilty as you would’ve if you just detested him while he behaved politely with you.

Jungkook was petty, even you knew that by now. His competitiveness always getting the better of him and turning him into someone with a completely different persona. Losing was not something he was used to. Maybe that’s why he had only a handful of friends, he would do anything to win. It could be a silly bet or even a tournament- Jungkook just had to win.

All the people he was friends with though, their relationship was beautiful. There were only 4 or 5 boys he actually got along with and their adoration for each other could be seen by anybody. 

This wouldn’t have been a problem if you weren’t also as competitive as him. You’re technically in no position to say that Jungkook’s hatred towards losing was unhealthy because you hated it too. You thought it made you seem weak, incapable- and you supposed that it was the same reason as to why the youngest Jeon son hated losing as well but you never tried understanding him. Let alone let him speak for a minute if he was in a 10-foot-radius of you. 

It was better this way, you thought. It was better to hate him than actually trying to befriend him and catching those unwanted feelings. Hating Jungkook was simpler, easier. Or so you thought for the 10 years of the two of you attending the same badminton academy. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the two of you were in the same class at college as well. So you had to deal with his annoying self for the larger part of the day. 

It was around a month before the annual badminton tournament of your state and obviously, you and Jungkook were taking part in it, more intent on defeating each other rather than the opposing teams. This wouldn’t work though, your coach had called the two of you after practice one day and had said “Listen, Jungkook, Y/n. I know that you’re both really good players and also hate each other.” he sighs, “I’m not asking you to befriend each other, no. I just want the two of you to get along for the tournament. For the sake of our school.” The coach makes a pleading face and you just nod, looking over at Jungkook to see his reaction. He hums and looks down. 

After the coach has walked away, you look at Jungkook again, getting ready to tell him that this wasn’t really going to affect the way you behaved with him but he beats you to it, his voice reaching your ears as your lips stay parted midway.

“So, I guess...no more arguing?” Jungkook finally looks at you with a slightly questioning face and you’re left momentarily blank, his proposition seeming so out of character that you’re at a loss for words. This wasn’t expected out of Jungkook. What was expected was that he would just scoff before glaring at you for no reason and stalking away. Him asking you if you wanted to stop the childish arguments the two of you had was not expected. 

It takes you a minute to comprehend that Jeon Jungkook was actually trying to put an end to those mini-wars of yours. Your reply is dumb “Uh- okay.” You’re still in a daze from what he said and it’s only when he snaps his fingers in front of your face that you immediately want to spit out a sassy remark but bite your tongue on it, not wanting to disregard Jungkook’s suggestion just after seconds of it having come out of those pink lips of his.

Not knowing what to do, you nod and turn around to get into the locker rooms before heading home. You’re oblivious to the fact that Jungkook almost called your name, wanting to talk to you more, he didn’t know why, but decided against it. You wouldn’t accept the offer anyway.

The walk back to your house is quiet, you’re humming a random tune and there aren’t many vehicles on the road, except for school buses dropping kids home. Unlocking the door, you step into your house and close it behind you before keeping your bag in your room and changing out of your clothes. After all that is done, you check the time and see that it’s 3:18 pm, you have around 2 hours before badminton coaching and suddenly feeling motivated, you heat up some leftover pizza and walk into your room to paint something. 

You may not be good at art, you admitted that without any shame because there were a lot of other things you could perform flawlessly. Playing badminton, whining and being able to smell any fried food from miles away to name a few. But you didn’t want to do art because you’d get good at it or something, it was something you genuinely enjoyed and the comments from other people didn’t matter as long as you were satisfied with yourself. And that meant your circles not looking  like amoeba.

You take out a drawing book that had been laying in the third drawer of your desk for months and dig up some paintbrushes and watercolour tubes you had left before sitting at your desk to finally start your work. You let your fingers guide you, not thinking much about what you were doing and what the outcome would be. Occasionally dusting your hands from the pizza crumbs, you were quite focused on your work.

30 minutes later, you’re leaning back in your chair and surveying your painting. Woah, it looks pretty-

Wait is that fucking Jungkook you see? “Huh?” your forehead is creased in perplexity, did you just paint a goddamn Jungkook? It looks like Jungkook, though...the bambi eyes and that tiny pout on his lips. How did you-

You were so confused right now. What were you thinking? Well, you obviously weren’t thinking.

Wow. Apparently, you had drawn Jungkook, your sworn enemy, without knowing. Not knowing what to do with the average portrait that didn’t do any justice to his actual features, you quickly clean up your stuff and keep it all back in its respective drawers. 

It’s now 4 and you get out your books to get some homework done before leaving for coaching. Ugh. You’d have to see Jungkook there too. You wonder how he’ll behave with you, hopefully, he won’t come anywhere near you. 

Sighing as you finish the assignments before stretching back in your chair, you get up to change into your sports clothes before grabbing your bag and water bottle, looking at yourself once in the mirror before walking out towards the pleasantly close by badminton academy you had grown way too accustomed to. 

Upon reaching the building, you walk through the reception and smile at the elderly lady who sits there every day. You push the door that leads to the courts and walk on the side, greeting your friends that were warming up. You don’t see Jungkook anywhere right now so that’s a good sign and you bow slightly at your coach in respect although the many years of being taught by the man have obviously gotten the two of you very close. Your bag is kept near a bench in its usual place and you put on the shoes you could wear only on the badminton courts before picking a corner on the side of the court and begin stretching. 

You’re walking to get your racquet when you see Jungkook jogging up to your coach, saying something to him with an apologetic look before getting a  playful shove from sir as he nods towards the benches where Jungkook would most probably keep his stuff and do some quick exercises before joining the rest of you. 

Said boy’s gaze meets yours and he smiles. You don’t reciprocate the gesture, scoffing and moving over to Jihye who’s already looking at you with a cheeky smile adorning her face. “What?” you question, not understanding why she was acting so weird “Don’t pretend you don’t know.” she gives you a playful shove to which you reply by tch-ing and rolling your eyes, done with her childish behaviour. “Seriously Jihye what th-”

“I saw Jungkook smile at you.” 

The look on your face is an accurate representation of what you were thinking right now. So what? That smile was nothing, he was just acting upon what he had said earlier. “Yeah, so?” you reply boredly, watching as Jihye’s mouth open wide- wide enough for her to fit her entire fist inside.

“Yeah, so? Are you shitting me Y/n? Jeon Jungkook just smiled at you and you didn’t even do anything in response?” you’re still watching her blankly. Although you admit that it’s not her fault entirely, even you were shocked, very shocked when he first told you about the no-more-fighting pact. 

“He just said that we shouldn’t argue now, because the coach at school said that it was going to be bad for our team. You know, in the tournament.” you simply shrug, trying not to make a big deal out of the fact and Jihye is about to reply before the coach is calling all of you for a shadow drill. 

Shit.

You are given one side of a court and by some way or the other, Jungkook is opposite to you, his black pants sticking to those fleshy thighs so deliciously and hi-

What?

What is wrong with you? You’ve been thinking about Jungkook unconsciously- first drawing him and now this. Get a grip Y/n.

The whistle of your coach sounds throughout the entire room and your chain of thoughts is broken as your run towards the left side of the net from your position in the centre of the court before picking up one of the shuttles and running back to the centre, moving to the right side of the net now and doing the same as you continue the drill. Jungkook is swift, his feet are balanced and he still manages to look so graceful as he runs around his side of the court. 

You’re finally done with all the corners of the court twice as you move to sit in the space between the two different courts as you pant. The two people who were waiting now go to your and Jungkook’s positions as they begin the shadows drill now. You’re surprised to see that Jungkook has opted to sit next to you, you with your bright pink skirt sticking to your skin in all its glory.  

“Hi.” he smiles and turns towards you with his hand outstretched in front of your form. With a questioning look on your face, you shake his hand. How far was he planning on going when he said that the two of you wouldn’t be having those silly arguments anymore? To you, it meant that the pair of you would just stick to your own places and not interact with each other or do anything that would result in the bickering to resume. 

“Hey..?” Jungkook retracts his hand, leaving yours in mid-air. “So you uh wanna like hang out..um..like somewhere?” This boy had been taking you by surprise too much lately, why would he randomly ask you to hang out?

Sure he had said that he didn’t want the two of you having those little fights anymore but this? This was unexpected- really fucking unexpected.

“Uh...so suddenly?” he slightly frowns “Why?  Are you uncomfortable with it? That’s totally fine though!”

Jungkook was being too friendly, a little too friendly, you were confused and shocked at his tactics but tried not to show it on your face. “I mean, yeah, okay.” The words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could even realise it and his face was now bright. His smile so sweet, you feel a cavity forming and he nods. “Cool! After practice then..? He trails off, suddenly hesitant and you’re still dumbfounded by how quickly things had taken a turn, for the better you supposed. 

Not even a day ago, the two of you were ready to claw the other’s eyes out and now, you were agreeing to go out with him. This is not a date though. Jungkook and you are just going out to bond as friends. Nothing more, nothing less. Nodding, you smile lightly, trying to reduce some of the awkwardness from your face as you suggest a cafe to meet up at. 

Practice is over and you are walking out of the academy with Jihye chattering beside you. “Oh! I almost forgot, so about that  Jungkook thing. I saw the two of you talking also.” she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, or that’s what she thinks it looks like. Turning to face her, you sigh at her usual habit of sticking her nose into others’ business and tell her simply that he had just asked you to meet up at the cafe so you could just chill. 

“Holy shit, it’s a date!” Jihye seems more excited about the meet-up, not date, her hands coming up to join in front of her chest as she looks at you in bewilderment. “Why are you so passive?” your friend is way too excited for something so normal but then again, this was you and Jungkook. The two of you could never go a day without insulting the other before. Now you were meeting up with the same guy at a cafe in another hour or so. When you tell Jihye this, she stops walking, putting her hand on the left side of her chest- where her heart was. Her dramatic behaviour was now normal now and you knew the reason for her overreaction. 

Your love life was drier than the Sahara Desert in a fucking draught. You had been on just a handful of dates in your entire existence, only 5 or 6 of them ending up with you fucking the guy. The others had just been awkward, mainly because of your edgy self. 

It wasn’t that big of a problem though, you were too occupied by your college work and badminton tournament preparations that anything else just seemed like a waste of time. For instance, instead of going out with some guy, you could stay home and binge-watch Stranger Things. There were a lot more practical things that could be done without the company of males. 

The only reason you agreed to go out with Jungkook was that you wanted to see how it would end up. There was a very slim chance that your meeting would go very well but if Jungkook kept behaving as sweet as he was now, you wouldn’t even have a solid reason to be rude to the poor fellow. Nevertheless, you were not going to completely relax because one never knows. 

“I’m coming over to pick out your outfit!” Jihye is excited, jumpy because this is new- you going out with someone of the opposite gender. And although it was completely normal for someone else, you just looked at your friend judgmentally, feigning annoyance and earning a light shove from her that has you stumbling on the sidewalk. 

“‘Kay'” she squeals when you agree and invites herself to your house, saying that you should take a shower while she picks out your outfit. You trusted her though, Jihye’s fashion sense was really good and you knew for a fact that whatever she would pick out would be trendy. 

Unlocking your house with the bronze key, you walk in and keep your bag in its place before walking to get a glass of water for Jihye and yourself. She accepts and plops down on your couch before you pull her up by the arm, a disgusted look on your face. “Go wash up first.” she pouts but heads into the bathroom near the hallway nonetheless to wash up. You shout to her from your room that you’re heading to shower and she shouts back an “Alright.” from downstairs as you open the door, heading in for a steamy shower. 

40 minutes later, you’re getting out of your bathroom, content, to Jihye’s shrieking. Something along the lines of missing the date and you roll your eyes when you hear the last word. It was not a date for God’s sake!

You nonchalantly nod at no one in particular and apply your cream before heading out in a bathrobe. She’s sitting on your bed with some outfits placed on your bed. At first glance, they all look colour-coordinated with some accessories here and there but upon closer inspection, you see that every piece of clothing on your mattress was one of the shortest you had in every category. 

“Do you want me to look like a slut?” you ask with your arms folding in front of your chest, and Jihye looks at you with wide eyes, offended that you even had the nerve to comment on her outfit-picking skills. 

“No! These are all fine for a meet-up.” She uses finger quotes for the last word and you smile to yourself, “Uh, let me just stop you there. I don’t really know what people mean when they use this.” you make the finger quotes and she gasps “Did you just-” your shoulders raise and as the laughter dies down, you walk closer to the bed, mentally evaluating each outfit she had oh so carefully picked. They’re all really stylish, you gotta admit that but you’d never say it to her face. The one closest to the headboard consists of a full-sleeved plain white turtleneck that had a greyish-brown dress that reached your mid-thigh laid on top of it. It was something you could wear, maybe with some electric pink leggings. You see that Jihye, who is now rummaging in your collection of shoes, has also laid some black boots in front of the bed that matched the first dress. 

Your gaze travels to the one on the middle one and you immediately furrow your eyebrows, already ruling the strapless crop top and ripped shorts out. Too much skin. 

The one to the far left is also decided to not be inappropriate for the occasion as you didn’t think Jungkook would want to see you in a burgundy top with spaghetti straps. The jeans that had too many huge holes in them didn’t even look cool at this point. What were you thinking when you bought this.

Jihye comes out with some heels for one of the outfits “Why are you even putting so much effort into this? I can just wear a shirt and sweats.” She huffs out, unamused, as you giggle at her annoyed face. “Kidding. So, I really like this one.” you point at the dress and she smiles slyly “Showing off your long legs I see.” Punching her shoulder, you make some place to sit on the bed, glad that you shaved today. “Now, get out of my room. I need to change and apply make-up.” She nods and you watch her close the door behind her, getting up to lock it for extra safety measures. 

Not like she was gonna barge in and catch you in your star printed underwear anyways. Changing into the turtle neck and then the dress, you look at yourself in the mirror and if it wasn’t your frizzy hair, you would even think you looked cute. You brush your hair and settle for a high ponytail. Putting on your shoes, you apply a little bit of make-up, not wanting to seem overly eager but the excessive amount of perfume may or may not give you away. 

As you open the door and walk down to where Jihye has changed into some sweats she had kept in your house for times like these, she gasps upon seeing you, chip almost falling out her mouth and chews it before widening her eyes comically “Babe! You look so good.” you smile at her compliment, giving her a twirl as she gets up to probably to hug you before deciding against it, shaking her head. 

“So, is my make-up looking fine?” she nods furiously and you pick up your purse that was on the dining chair before looking at the clock to see that you only have ten minutes before Jungkook arrives. You bid Jihye goodbye, not worried in the slightest bit about her being alone at your house. 

As you’re walking, the cafe comes into view and you spot a familiar figure walking into the shop as well and you increase your speed to enter at the same time as Jungkook to make it seem as if you weren’t even slightly late. He doesn’t notice you even when you’re right behind him and walks to a table to sit down as you sit opposite him immediately, realising that he had walked to a two-people table in the corner of the shop. 

His eyes widen and he stutters out in shock, “O-Oh, you’re here,” Nodding, you hide a smile and greet him back, trying not to get into an argument with him. It’s silent for a while, you think of anything to say to break the awkward atmosphere but just as you’re looking up from the ground to speak to Jungkook, his voice is filling your ears. “Do you want to order?” He waits and you simply nod, “Okay, I’ll come to get my coffee.” 

Just as you’re getting up, Jungkook keeps his hand on you without warning, head shaking frantically. “No! I mean, I can get it for you.” Looking up in surprise, you’re unable to speak for a moment. Did Jeon Jungkook just say that he would buy you coffee?

You shake your head and snap out of your trance. Or at least you try to. “No, it’s alright. I can get it myself.” Jungkook rushes to quieten you again and looks like he won’t let you win, so you sigh and back down. “Fine.” He giggles and walks off to the counter while you take your phone out to kill time. Getting bored when you see that there are not any notifications, you switch the device off and look out of the window, watching as people get out of their cars for a pitstop at the cafe before driving away again. 

“Here are the coffees.” You turn your head and see Jungkook setting two cups of coffee on the table before sitting himself. Looking at what he got you, you thank him for bringing the correct order and he just sends a light smile in your direction, rubs his hands together and picks up the cup with both hands. You almost coo, but hold yourself together. This was your enemy. 

That reminds you, “So, why are you suddenly being so kind to me? It’s really weird to experience you treating me nicely.” You hadn’t meant for your tone to come off as accusing, but it does, and you have to watch Jungkook’s eyes flash with hurt for a second before shaking his head lightly. He places his cup back in the small saucer and his hands on either side of it. 

“I knew you would ask me this.” egging him on with a raise of your eyebrows, you take a sip of your coffee “Remember how Coach said that we should stop arguing?” At your nod, he licks his lips and continues on with his explanation, “Well, I thought about it-” “You told me to stop arguing right after he left.” “I thought about it and I decided that we really shouldn’t be having these fights. Like, what’s the point? I’m not getting anything out of it. You’re not getting anything out of it.” He ignores your words and when you hear his, ask yourself why you hadn’t tried to put a stop to the childish arguments you had with Jungkook. 

You don’t know why you ever fought back. Well, you did hate losing and Jungkook did everything to rile you up- so he was at fault too- but there was no specific reason as to why you hated Jungkook so much. “I don’t know, you were the one who started them. I don’t have a problem with becoming friends.” 

Jungkook looks at you, looking as if he’s trying to figure something out, pouty lips looking kissable but you quickly brush those thoughts off. “So..” his hands come closer to yours and you’re shocked to feel your heart starting to beat faster, its pace picking up as Jungkook’s hand comes closer to yours. “..friends?” his pinky intertwines with yours and you feel your face turn red, the action igniting something in you. 

Looking down at your fingers intertwined seems to be a big mistake as you gasp, the sight just overwhelming you. His hand fit in yours perfectly, and even if he meant it just as friends, you couldn’t help but imagine how it would be to be loved by Jungkook.

No! You two just started behaving normally around each other and you’re already thinking about loving him?

A voice in your head sounds as Jungkook retrieves his hand to pick up the call that had distracted you. You take your hand back and keep it in your lap, tingling sensations till lingering. 

Jungkook looks at you apologetically for a second, and you reassure him that he could take the call but he tells whoever was on the other side of the line that he was busy, cutting the call after he told the person that he would call them back later. 

“Sorry about that.” you barely catch his mumble and shake your head, “Don’t worry.” As you finish your coffee and make small talk with Jungkook about random things, you start growing more comfortable around him, cracking jokes and laughing at his lame ones. You’re discussing some things about the upcoming tournament when Jungkook suddenly leans in closer. 

You move back out of shock and he stills, eyes suddenly going wide as his breathing halts. Your own starts getting heavy, his sudden action having caught you terribly off guard. After partially having gained your composure back, you see that Jungkook is still in the same position, “J-Jungkook?” He takes a moment to snap out of whatever trance he was put in and blinks once, twice before gasping loudly and jerking backwards. His back hits the chair and his mouth is still open in shock at what he did. 

“S-Sorry..” he trails off, chewing his lip and your eyes follow the motion carefully before darting them back to his face quickly. He furrows his brows and starters ahead of you before shaking his head, murmuring something to himself. “You ok there?” you try to keep your voice soft, soothing as Jungkook shifts his gaze to you, wide eyes looking absolutely adorable. 

You question him again, worried, “What wa-” “I like you.” 

Silence. 

You sputter, his words having caught you off guard and if Jungkook’s eyes could go any wider, they do, his hand instantly coming to slap over his face and he curses, “I-fuck.” You’re still shocked by his confession and your brain takes time to process what he said, the three simple words not registering in your mind until suddenly,  Jungkook’s voice brings you back to the present. 

“Y-Y/n?” He sounds hesitant, and your face must be an accurate representation of what you’re feeling right now because Jungkook begins speaking again, his eyes filled with worry as he tries to fix his mistake. “No. I mean, yes, I like you-” Your face portrays horror at his words again and he rushes to correct himself, hitting himself on the head once. 

“You what?” Your voice is hushed for unknown reasons and Jungkook looks around, trying to calm himself down by breathing in and out and you use the time to do the same, the initial shock having worn off as you exhale loudly and take a bite out of the cookie from the small plate he had gotten. 

“I like you, Y/n.” Jungkook’s tone is more serious this time, and you try maintaining  a straight face, his words finally sinking and you choke on your saliva. “Like like me?” you question dumbly and he nods desperately, licking his lips and drumming his fingers on the table, a nervous habit of his. 

“Oh,” Jeongguk tilts his head at your response and you muster the courage to ask him a question that had been lingering on your mind ever since he confessed. “Since..?”

He coughs loudly into his mouth, trying to hide the blush that creeps up his cheeks and looks at you with a suddenly brave gaze, “I’ve liked you for a long time, Y/n. The reason I started annoying was because I wanted you to notice me, not because I disliked you...And better confess now instead of regretting not doing anything before right?” Your mouth is left hanging at his confession now, the real reason for his pestering finally coming out into the light. 

“Why would you annoy me, though? You could've just come up and talked to me, it would've been way easier for us.” At this, Jeongguk blushes, trying to cover his burning cheeks from you and cups his face in  his hands. “I don’t know..you were really annoying, to be honest.”

“I was annoying- you asshole!” You lean over and hit his arm, much to his chagrin and he frowns before swatting your arm away. Silence falls over the two of you, but it's not the awkward kind, you just sit quietly, drowning yourself in thoughts about Jungkook. 

“So…” Beside you, Jungkook shifts shyly and lowers his head when you look at him, the sight igniting something warm inside you. “Can I ask to ask you out?” His hair sits prettily atop his forehead, hands on his lap and his lips are scrunched into the cutest pout. 

“Why don’t you ask me and find out?” You aim for a teasing tone, but miss by a mille, instead sounding breathless and at this, Jungkook smiles before leaning in closer. “Will you go on a date with me?”

Even though you knew he was going to ask you, the words still send tingles throughout your entire body, heart racing and you nod before you can even think.  

It has you suddenly thinking about the drastic turn of events. The guy who was once (not even a few hours ago) your biggest enemy had just confessed to you and was asking you out. You’re thinking if it was a bad decision, but with Jungkook looking so innocent and just, like a child, it’s hard to think straight. Your heart beats erratically as Jungkook gives you one last soft smile before getting up and walking to pay, and you try chasing him and stopping him from paying for both your and his drinks but as much as you want to, you’re still stuck in place, everything that happened recently replaying in your head. He comes back in a few minutes and holds out his hand for you to take, and as you’re getting up with his help, your heart can’t help but flutter, the feeling of his warm hand encompassing yours turning you mushy like dough. 

“Seriously?” You can’t help but scoff, and beside you Jungkook lets go of your hand to feign an offended face. “What! You said you liked Call of Duty!” Jungkook defends himself and you stare blankly at the venue of your first official date with Jeon Jungkook. 

The baby pink blankets that adore his couch look inviting, so do the various snacks on the coffee table but still, this was your first date. You had really expected him to go all out and take you to dinner at a classy restaurant. And then maybe have ended with a drumline playing on a bridge. Ok, maybe that was too much. 

This doesn’t mean that you’re disappointed, though. Nope. This- a date on Jungkook’s couch with Call of Duty and snacks- was perfectly fine. Great, even. You finally crack a smile, nudging his shoulder and muttering a ‘Just kidding.’ under your breath when his face turns sad. 

You grab his arm and sit on the couch, patting the space beside you for him to occupy as you shuffle through the unhealthy packs of chips and nachos to find your favorite one. Jungkook grabs a drink and you shuffle under the soft blanket, curling up and look at Jungkook, trying to act cute as you prepare to embarrass yourself. 

“Cuddle with me?” Jungkook almost spits his drink out, surging forward as his head turns towards your direction you’re positive he gets whiplash. “W-What-Did you..” Nodding, you try pouting but know for a fact that it looks more awkward than cute and huff out, “Just-” Jungkook nods suddenly, “Ok.” and gets under the covers. Your face heats up when you finally realise that you just asked The Jeon Jungkook™ to cuddle with you, and as he ever so slowly crawls towards you, your body turns stiff. 

“I-Is this okay?” Jungkook hovers his hand over your waist and as you look at him with wide eyes, you nod lightly, indicating the green signal, his body heat not helping at all. Jungkook’s soft voice filters through your ears, and you swear you could listen to him forever. Even if he was making fun of your obsession with hard peaches. Yes. 

“We can watch a movie if you want..and then play COD?” he suggests and you mumble out a “Sure” and watch as he picks up the remote to scroll through the various apps whose subscriptions he had. 

He pauses at Netflix. “Can we watch Full House?” his voice is timid, and you turn to furrow your eyebrows at him, wondering why he would seem hesitant while asking that. Everyone loved Michelle. 

“Why not?” At your words, Jungkook’s eyes light up and he smiles widely, turning towards the TV to play the show. 

You rip open a packet of Cheetos and Jungkook tries (keyword: tries) to slyly wrap his arm around you from behind but doesn’t go unnoticed, and you move forward for him to easily slide his arm around you, not even bothering to look at his red face because there’s a really high chance that you’ll combust. 

2 episodes into the new season, you turn to Jungkook and he notices, eyebrows raised as you gulp, 

“I think I like you too.” 

“That would’ve been really romantic if your Cheetos breath wasn’t hitting my face.”

epilogue 

“Yesss, get it Kook!” Jungkook comes running up to you and you slap his arm in enthusiasm. He hugs you, tight, and your arms wrap around his body as well, congratulating him in his victory. His last hit had been a smash, one his opponent hadn’t  been able to defend and the match had indeed with your school winning, the trophy yours for the third time in a row.  

“We won.” The words coming out of Jungkook’s mouth urge you to hug him tighter, and you do, nodding although he probably can't see you. “We did.” Your boyfriend lets go of you to embrace his teammates and you laugh with all of them, and when your eyes meet Jungkook’s, realise that he may not be as bad as you first thought him to be.

tysm for reading whatever the fuck this is <3 send in feedback, if you want!

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[brelione]

Wish I was Sarah PT 2 (Sarah X Reader X Kiara)

Part One

Kiara woke up to her phone buzzing,you asleep next to her with your phone still in hand.She groaned,checking her phone and squinting at the bright light.It was one in the morning and her parents were trying to find out where she was. “(Y/N),hey.Wake up,we gotta get home.”She whispered,shaking you slightly.You grumbled,smacking her hand away. “Nooooo.”You protested,trying to curl back into your ball of warmth.

 “Yessss.Come on,your parents are gonna be looking for you.”She pulled you up,shivering slightly at the lack of blankets.You two didnt even bother to bring the plates back,slipping through the cracked rock and onto the soft sand,the cool air hitting you skin. “I’d really prefer not to be awake right now.”You laughed,guiding her back to the large house.People were still in the yard,older folks still talking and cleaning up all of the dishes.You felt heat rush to your face as you noticed Sarah Cameron,head in her hands as she stared down at her phone at the table,half asleep.

You and Kiara went inside,greeted by her mother. “Where’d you run off to?”She asked.Kiara gestured towards you,wanting you to explain. “Sorry,its loud and we wanted to watch a movie so we went down the beach.Sorry.”You answered softly,seeing your aunt on the couch.Mrs.Carrera wasnt mad though,in fact,she was ecstatic.Kiara hadnt made any girl friends since Sarah Cameron or even kook friends for that matter. “Dont worry about it,just tell us next time.”She smiled down at you.You played with your fingers,nodding before going over to speak to your aunt.Sarah turned to watch you,biting her bottom lip as she watched you leave.That was three months ago.

Kiara grinned as you showed her an oddly shaped rock that you found by the beach,asking her what it looked like to her. “It looks kind of like a bat but it could also be a cat if you look at it when its flipped over.”You flipped the rock,running your fingers along the rough bumpy surface.She nodded,looking through the sand for shells. “Hey,Kie?”You asked,putting the rock in your pocket.She hummed,still looking through the sand.

 “What’s going on with Sarah Cameron?”You asked.Her breath hitched,frowning as she looked at you. “You dont want to be involved with her.She’s evil.Shes like a snake that lures you in and then suffocates you!She’s the worst person ive ever met and her brother is a crack head that beats the shit out of people for no reason.Trust me,you dont want anything to do with her.”Kiara huffed,looking you in the eyes.

You pouted slightly,becoming uneasy. “She seems nice.”You mumbled,making her shake her head. “No,shes not.She acts nice and then she’ll betray you like she does to everyone.She betrayed me!”Kiara exclaimed.

You nodded,biting the inside of your cheek. “Okay.”You mumbled.The rest of the day was a bit awkward after that conversation,Kiara concerned that you were falling for Sarah.She was trying to think of something to tell you that would make you hate Sarah,anything to keep you from chasing after her.She couldnt though.There was nothing that could stop you from liking Sarah.She just needed to get you to like her more.She had asked you not to be around Sarah or talk to her.You had told her that you wouldnt and she was stupid enough to believe you.Two weeks after you made that promise the worst thing imaginable happened.

Kiara hadnt hung out with the boys in a while and they were getting sick of her ditching for you.That lead to her agreeing to go to the beach and surf with them early one morning.It was windy and cool but the waves were fantastic.She carried her surfboard under her arm,walking to the water with John.B as Pope and JJ tossed down towels and their cooler of off brand soda and tuna sandwiches.Her head turned when she heard squeals and giggling,two voices shouting to one another.

She squinted,making sure that she was seeing things right.Sarah Cameron was wearing a red sweater,one that had faded from being washed and worn so many times.She held a tennis racket,fighting off birds that were trying to get to the mice that stayed in the tall grass.She wasnt the only one though.You stood with a tennis racket as well,wearing a bikini top and shorts as you shouted at the birds,trying to get them to leave the mice alone.

Kiara felt her heart drop,realising what was happening.You had told her that you wouldnt talk to Sarah at all and here you were giggling with her.She couldnt even blame you.Your oblivious self had no idea just how much Kiara liked you and how desperately she wanted you to like her back.Sarah had to know what she was doing.The blonde glanced her way,a small smirk on her face to let Kiara know that she was defeated,that you liked Sarah and Sarah had won.

The way you looked at Sarah with so much love and longing made Kiara’s heart hurt.It was the same way that she looked at you.Kiara bit her tongue,looking back out at the waves. “What just happened?”John.B asked,looking down the beach to where Kiara had been staring previously.He thought he understood when he saw Sarah,thinking it was her alone that had ruined his friend’s mood.Kiara hadnt told the group about you yet.She knew that they would beg her to meet you.

SHe had convinced herself that she was worried that they’d like you more than her but she knew better.She was worried that you’d like them more than you liked her just like Sarah.She wasnt ready for those words to collide.Kiara couldnt be mad at you which just made everything hurt more.She had liked Sarah a long time ago so she could understand you.She could relate to how you stared at her with such admiration and how you were following Sarah like a lost puppy.Tears began to blur her vision as she realized that Sarah would hurt you and ruin you.

She hated Sarah so much but right here and right now she wanted nothing more than to be Sarah.You liked Sarah better.Everyone had always liked Sarah more.Kiara had cried into her pillow that night,wishing that you were different,wishing that you hated Sarah.She had sat at her window like a little kid,praying to the first star that she saw that she would wake up tomorrow and be Sarah.When she woke up her pillow was damp from tears and her head hurt,skin splotchy and eyes puffy.Her phone was ringing,causing her to groan and answer without checking who it was. 

“Hello?”She asked,tired. “Hey,Kie.Did you just wake up?”You asked.She grumbled something which you took as a yes. “Its like almost noon.Are you feeling okay?”You asked.She blinked a couple of times,sitting up in her bed. “Yeah,I was just tired from surfing yesterday.Whats up?”She asked,rubbing her head. “I was just wondering if you wanted to come to the cave and paint it with me.”You answered,waiting for her to reply. “Yeah,okay.Give me a little bit to get dressed.”She told you before hanging up.

She looked in the mirror,groaning at how sick she looked.She splashed some water on her face,putting on a baggy yellow t shirt and some white jeans.She tied her hair up in a bun,changing her jeans when she remembered she would be painting.

John.B had called her,requesting that she come to his house to watch Spongebob with him,Pope and JJ. “Cant,im busy.”She answered,trying to keep things vague.He huffed. “Busy with what?”He asked.She bit her lip,trying to think of an explanation. “Im hanging out with my friend.”She answered,hearing him let out a dramatic groan.

 “You’re hanging out with that girl again?Cant she just come with you?”He asked.She smiled,sighing. “Nope.”She hung up.She couldnt introduce you tot he boys.When she had walked down the beach,a smile on her face,excited to see you she frowned,seeing you speaking to Sarah Cameron.

Sarah wore just a sports bra and sweatpants,her hair in a ponytail which let Kie know that she was out on a run.She noticed the way you were biting your lip,eyes not meeting Sarah’s.You were nervous,flustered.Sarah gave you a quick hug before jogging away,not seeing Kiara. “Hey,Kie!”You smiled,jogging up to meet her half way,pouting a bit when you saw how mad she looked. “What’s wrong?”You asked,not understanding.

She rolled her eyes,crossing her arms. “What’s going on with you and Sarah Cameron?”She asked,making your heart drop. “What?”You asked,smile gone.She sighed,looking down at the sand. “You like Sarah,I know that you do.But you cant trust her,okay?”She asked,trying not to cry or sniffle.You licked your lips,looking down the beach.

 “I dont think I understand.”You pulled at the sleeves of your shirt,feeling vulnerable. “Sarah is a really bad person.She pretends to be all sweet and defending mice and turtles but she is disgusting and shes like a rock fish.She lures you in and doesnt look scary and seems all innocent and then you get close to her and she poisons you!She ruined my life and hurt me and she hurts everyone!She’ll hurt you too if you stick around,alright?”Kiara asked.

 “You’ve said that before...but I just...I dont know.There’s something about her.”You mumbled.Kiara wanted to cry,to run,to drown herself in the ocean that was so close. “There’s other girls out there,(Y/N).Theres ones that wont betray you and act like you dont exist.I just dont want to see you get hurt in a toxic relationship,alright?”She asked,his heart thumping.You nodded,giving her a small smile. “Lets go paint then.”You smiled,grabbing her hand and running over to the crack in the rock wall,sliding through.

Kie slid through behind you,giggling as she looked for a place on the rocks to paint.You found a flat area,picking up a palette and squirting out little mountains of red,yellow,blue,balck and white along with a few brushes.Kiara went on the more abstract approach,pouring colors onto her hands,rubbing them together and pressing them against the rocks and smearing them,trying to make something like butterfly wings.

She felt your brush glide against her arm,making a wet streak.She looked over at you,a confused smile. “What are you doing?”She asked,looking down at her arm.  “I need it to be the same color as your skin.”you answered simply,making a large circle with the toffee like color.She watched you,not really caring about what she was supposed to be painting,focused on the way your brush was moving as you made a darker little wave in the middle of the circle,watching as it formed into a nose.

Kiara tried not to stare for too long,making a rainbow flower from her handprints.You used a different brush to make dark chocolate waves of hair,trying to fix the hairline of the painting,getting the paint onto the sides of the circle to make it more like Kiara’s face. “You’re painting me?”She asked,knowing the answer was obvious.

You smiled,nodding and making two dark lines closer to the hairline,making them into little curves for eyebrows.It took a good two hours for you to finish the portrait,Kiara had put on her playlist for the two of you to listen to.Once you were satisfied with the portrait you stepped aside,letting the model see it. “Oh wow….that literally looks like a picture.”She smiled,taking a photo of the painting.You simply shrugged,a small grin on your face. “I kind of just memorised your face I guess.”You answered,feeling heat in your face and neck.

She was hesitant to kiss your cheek lightly,smiling as she looked away from you.Her phone dinged,ruining her good mood because she knew exactly what it meant. “Shit,I have to go home but i’ll see you tomorrow?”She asked,turning off the music and slipping her phone into her pocket. “I’ll walk you home.”You said quickly.She didnt argue,glad that you were willing to do that.

You held onto her hand as the two of you walked,getting some rainbow paint on your hand. “You have school tomorrow?”You asked sadly.She nodded,knowing that you didnt know much about that,being homeschooled and all. “You’ll come see me after school though?”You asked. “Of course.”She answered,coming up her driveway. “So...tomorrow?”She asked,your hand still holding hers.She wasnt prepared when you leaned forward quick,kissing her.

Her eyes went wide for a second before calming,her hand lifting to cup your chin,getting purple paint onto your skin.She smiled into the kiss,feeling so many things at once.It ws the feeling you get when you’re at the top of a rollercoaster,excited and nervous to go down,laughing as it all happened.It was the feeling you get when you hear your favorite song that you had listened too when you were young.

The stong that you used to scream the lyrics too on car rids and listen to it on repeat,the one that you could remember even years later and the excitement that would course through you when you heard it.It was the feeling you get when you get a huge thing of cotton candy at the fair,the sweetness of it melting in your mouth as the sun goes down,the heat on your skin.

You pulled away,your forehead still against hers. “Yeah,i’ll see you tomorrow.”You grinned,turning around and walking away,leaving her speechless.She let out a loud sigh,licking her lips and smiling so hard it hurt before she made her way up her driveway.When she walked into her house her mother was making dinner,her dad on the couch.She went right up the stairs and into her room,falling onto her bed with her face in her pillow as she squealed,staring up at her ceiling,blushing.

Her father came upstairs,asking her who she had hung out with that day. “(Y/N).”She answered,sitting up and trying not to smile again. “Is that the girl that we like?”he asked,referring to himself and Kiara’s mother.Kie nodded,sighing softly. “Okay,dinners ready.”He answered,going back downstairs.

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[seokiloquy]

Sniff - Kuroo & Kozume

AU: Werewolf (with hardly any werewolf content, I’m sorry)

Requested (I may have changed it a bit, oops)

Word Count: 2.1k+

Miyagi prefecture was home to many subsidiary pack groups that often were at odd ends with each other. Other prefectures had more balance, forming alliances and annual gatherings to share resources and information. Tokyo was a good example of such, though there were smaller groups that covered less ground, they had a balance. Miyagi did not. Though you were never at the forefront of the various battles that happened between the packs, typically spending your time working on the gardening side of things (which had its own conflicts), you often watched from the sidelines as the various hunters and athletes competed against each other. Training, practicing, getting stronger.

Shiratorizawa was at the top of the food chain in Miyagi, they had the strongest hunters and the largest pack. Aoba Johsai was a rising opponent but never quite made it to the top. Other groups often watched the competitors duke it out when they crossed paths, practice or otherwise. Karasuno, your home base, was small. Most of the buildings in the surrounding area were short and the ground was great for harvesting. Other packs came to your home in need of rice or other vegetables. It had been years since Karasuno was seen as a pack with a fighting chance in the annual trials. The generation that had been known to be award-winning athletes had now grown out of their peak metabolic state, moving on to join the workforce. Very few continued in their sport.

Your family was the head of harvesting. Your father worked with roots and your mother took charge of the pickings, and in your free moments outside of school, you worked in the rice fields. Breaking your back (and others) to gather all the grain when you weren’t learning through the day. 

It was crunch time this year. By some odd chance, three of your town’s teams had made it to the national tournament, beating out the arguably stronger teams of Aoba Johsai and Shiratorizawa. Because of this, you (and everyone else in the community that weren’t part of the training teams) had to gather as many resources as possible to award the winning communities in their respective fields at the end of the tournament. 

Everything hurts your brain nowadays. This time of the year was a drag. Despite being happy about your pack’s success, you desperately wished that only one team had succeeded. Now, you had to gather three times more rice than you normally did. 

Sadly, Karasuno never qualified for any of the traditional competitions. Hunting, tracking, and speed wasn’t in high demand for a mostly harvest based group. It was the new age games that Karasuno managed to succeed in. Soccer -just like every year-, Tennis, and Volleyball. The latter two were the surprising wins.

“(L/N), do you want a hand with that?” Yoshida was in his final year of participating in these games but as a member of the pack’s soccer team, the two of you had gotten to know each other over years of competition.

You gladly handed over the large wicker basket that held the harvested paddies, “Thanks.”

“You’ve got your work cut out for you this year, don’t you?” the dark-haired player asked rhetorically.

You sighed, “I still have to mill every grain,” you sniffed, “You know what, give that back.”

“Huh? Why?” he asked, handing the large basket back.

“Oujiyama.”

Without warning, besides the brief name you had given, the tennis captain railed into the side of the soccer player, tackling him down. The large wolf easily shifted into his normal form, laughing at the startled man below him. Yoshida growled, easily retaliating and turned the quaffed hair of Oujiyama into a bird’s nest. Bouncing the wicker basket in your arms, you sighed and left the two competing wolves to wrestle in the dirt.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you two were alpha’s fighting for a mate’s attention.”

Oujiyama was the first to recover from the tussle on the ground, brushing off the dirt from his shoulders, “I am an alpha!”

Yoshida, a beta, took the comment as a compliment. He started skipping to catch up to you.

“Maybe, but I know better. Your guys’ egos are just massive.”

Yoshida stopped skipping and swiped the basket from you with a pout.

The three of you travelled to the outer edge of Karasuno’s community, where a small truck was parked. Yoshida dropped the basket in the back along with all of the other containers of food and draped the tarp over it all. 

“Are you guys heading in early?”

Nodding, you tied the blue tarp down to the edges of the truck. “Ya, we have to finish preparing the rice and help set everything up before all the packs show up.” You let out a whining breath, “It’s too much work. Luckily others from other packs will be there to help and the teams that are already in Tokyo will be helping too.”

With the help of some of the other paddy workers across Tokyo, you managed to mill all of the rice that had been brought in three days. Those days were spent waking up before the hunters came back from their treks at dawn, and working on your knees until long after the sun had set. Now your muscles hurt, your nose was stuffed and you desperately wanted some tea.

Stupid sniffer.

“(Y/N), you’re off work right? Can you go to the sport competition sites and bring some of these towels?”

“Huh? Oh sure,” you held out your arms to carry the stack of soft materials. “Which ones should I go to?”

The suit-clad woman checked the list in her hand before pointing behind you. 

“If you walk south you can take a circular route from the wolf and human sprint courses, through the tennis courts and basketball gyms to end up at the volleyball gym. The Tokyo teams are practicing and all of the other packs are expected to arrive later this evening, make sure that there are enough. Oh, those too,” she pointed to a towel filled cart.

Your brain felt numb again. You laughed pitifully as the woman walked away, watching as she yelled at a few brawling wolves on the path. Dropping the towels onto the rolling cart to your side, you began pushing the large weight in the direction of the tracks. You desperately wanted to smell the clean cotton but your nose was clogged. A whine escaped you.

Most of the competing players were taking breaks, a lot of the boys had shifted into their wolf forms to lounge in the sun and pant while a majority of the girls decided to stick to the shade and drink water. They both thankfully took the towels you delivered, though a few came close to biting your hand as they did.

While at the tennis court Oujiyama ran up to you, racket held tightly in his mouth whining for you to pour water over his head. You complied but weren’t too happy about it.

It was only when you made it to the volleyball courts where the players had been playing rigorously. You delivered the towels to the girl’s teams before making your way to the boys, who were yelling much louder than you would expect them to.

“Excuse me, sir, I brought some towels.”

The old man looked your way. His arms were tightly crossed over his chest and his eyes seemed to be set in a permanent glare meant for scrutinizing every movement before him.

“Oh, thank you,” he said, flicking his wrist to look at the watch that was hidden under his red sleeve. “I guess it is a good time for a break. Boys!”

All the heads on the court turned your way, including those that were clearly from different packs. The old man looked sent a questioning look in the direction of the other coaches, who gave a positive nod.

“Break!”

Immediately all the players ran in the direction of their water bottles. Some shifted in hopes to get there faster than the others, nearly breaking their bottles in the grip of the wolf jaws, and startling their managers in the process. Some began to line up before you, politely asking for towels to which you responded by gently holding them out or dropping it around furry necks.

“You seem tired,” the last one said in a hushed tone.

You let out a sigh, “I’ve been preparing rice for the winning prizes for the past few days, and now that that’s done I need to help with other preparations before all the packs arrive.”

The boy hummed, taking a sip from his bottle, “do you at least get to have a break to watch the games?”

“Thankfully,” you said as you leaned against the now empty cart, sniffing. “It’s like this every year to an extent but this time we have three groups competing which means three times the work.”

The boy took the space beside you, letting his weight shift the cart slightly. “What pack do you come from?” He asked.

“Karasuno.”

“Ah, do you know Shoyo?”

You shrugged a shoulder, “I’ve never actually spoken to the volleyball team, but I’ve seen them around. I tend to spend most of my time working, so any of the people I talk to are mostly out of convenience.” You thought about Yoshida and Oujiyama for a moment, “Or they just pester me for food.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing, sorry.” You dug your shoe into the wooden floor, “So what’s your name any-”

“Hey Kenma.”

“It’s Kozume. That’s Kuroo.”

“Tetsurou.”

The tall black-haired player that had interrupted the boy you were speaking to -Kozume- walked over with his hands placed on his hips. He breathed deeply before letting out an amused huff. Kozume huffed.

“You’re willing to talk to a stranger you just met over your own team? That’s new.”

“The stranger’s name is-”

“(Y/N).”

“That. And unlike the team (Y/N) actually relaxed and not loud.”

“Are you saying that that’s not relaxed?” Kuroo asked, throwing an arm out to gesture back to his teammates.

The boys he was referring to were all sprawled across the floor breathing heavily. One, in particular, was in his wolf form rolled onto his back while holding the squeezable water bottle between his teeth, squishing it, and chugging down the contents that poured out. Kenma pushed off the cart to stand next to Kuroo.

“That’s exhaustion, not relaxation.”

As the two bickered back and forth, you spun around to grab the handle of your cart.

“I’ll just go. I’ll see you two around.”

They paid you no mind, continuing to argue over Kenma’s relationships with his teammates. Despite the topic being focused on the dyed blonde, Kuroo seemed to be the more passionate of the two regarding the topic.

Nodding, you shuffled backwards while chewing your lip. The coaches, having caught your exit, sent you grateful smiles and waves that you returned before scooting yourself out of there.

Meeting your own packs volleyball team was an interesting experience. As soon as the bus doors opened a few of them, in the canine forms, jumped out and began running around the open parking lot. They howled continuously until their captain had to yell them down. You started speaking to Ukai and Takeda, showing them a map of the area.

When the Nekoma volleyball team came to greet them it seemed as though all hell broke loose. Nekomata came to your side, gently taking the map from your hands and began leading the coaches in the right direction.

You began walking behind the older men, silently listening in to their conversation and chiming in wherever there was a turn to be made.

Kozume began to walk alongside you, taking who turned out to be Shoyo with him. How you managed to participate in their conversation was beyond you, but you mentally thanked Kozume’s ability to keep the energetic orange talking for the lack of silence.

When the Karasuno volleyball team managed to get all their bags inside their rooms you sighed happily, now free of work. 

“You should go rest, a lot of the games start tomorrow and you don’t want to miss them.” Kuroo had popped up, startling you slightly.

You turned to face his hunched figure head-on. “I’m mostly planning on watching tennis and soccer games. My friends are playing.”

“Well, using that criteria you should be planning to watch our games too.” Kenma had somehow managed to get away from Shoyo and sneak up behind you. He looked a bit drained but not much more than he normally would.

“Huh?” you sniffed again.

Kuroo smiled cheekily and leaned a bit further down, making it easier to see both of his eyes through the hanging black strands.

“Well, you should come to see us play. Don’t you think, mate?”

Despite being the person that controls posting these, I don’t tpically have things to say.... oops - Bacon 

Posted: 03/07/2020

[remnantsrp]

Name: Brian Slomowitz Age: 28 years old Pronouns: He/him Hometown: Austin, Nevada Occupation before the Infection: Subsistence criminal, cleaner, one-time janitor Role within the Caravan: Scout FC: Paul Dano

Biography:

tw. parental abandonment, mentions of drug dealing, drugs

Before the infection. 

Let’s be honest - no one grows up and wants to be a deadbeat. Yeah, not even someone like Brian Slomowitz. Growing up in foster care, the kids used to call him “Slim Jim”. This wasn’t just because he was skinny, or that they thought his name was James, but because between the ages of ten and thirteen, Brian was the kingpin of a cigarette empire, running the racket beneath the bleachers of whatever state school he’d washed up in. Once he’d got caught kids stopped calling him Slim Jim and started calling him Slip, because the run around he gave the authorities that one afternoon in Reno was fucking legendary. Brian thinks back on that sun-bleached day every now and then. Yeah, you watch enough movies and think that sliding over a car bonnet after you’ve been running full-pelt is going to be easy. Spoiler alert: it isn’t, and Brian’s got the scars to prove it.

The whole sad affair of his childhood can be summarised thus: Brian was born to two teenage dropouts who gave him up. He was raised in foster care and bounced around like a tennis ball. His surname isn’t even his, not really - the story goes he was named after the nurse who filled out the paperwork. Who cares if it’s true? It sounds sad, and when you’re looking to get laid, guys and girls love a good sob story; it makes them feel better about their own lives. Brian’s life started bad and continued on its way. He only learned three things before his eighteenth birthday. Number one: when in doubt, lie. Number two: running is always an option. And number three: don’t think about the past; the only thing that counts is now.

Once he was eighteen, Brian was, for the first time, out on his own. He’d always had someone hovering over his shoulder, even if it was one of his cronies, so the isolation was a novelty. He bumped around a few minimum wage jobs before he settled in Austin. He settled there because one Christmas he was sitting in a diner reading the newspaper, and there was a job advert for a janitor at a school. And so, with the taste of bad coffee in his mouth and craving a cigarette, he circled it, and come January, he had a job. That didn’t last long – turns out you’re not really allowed to have a record, even when you’re a lowly janitor. Brian didn’t have anything bad against him (petty theft, underage drinking). Like, it wasn’t as if he was dealing drugs or sticking people up. Right? Regardless, it was enough to get him fired before he’d even been hired, and so he bummed around a bit more. When he was twenty four and scraping the bottom of the barrel, he joined a cleaning service. All day, every day, he drove his truck around to stranger’s houses, squirted some Jiff around, and eyed off their shiny valuables. He never took much – he didn’t want to get fired, ironically – just enough to tide him over. Come lunch, he’d eat in a Wendy’s parking lot, smoke a joint, then start the afternoon jobs. More of the same: vacuum, dust, wipe. Contrary to what the internet will have you believe, there aren’t nearly enough MILFs or DILFs to go around. Mostly, it was bored housewives, harassed nannies, or the elderly. The oldies were the best. They always told him interesting stories and, sometimes, insisted he take an ornament, this jewellery box, a radio… Yeah, Brian liked hanging out with them, especially the lonely ones. They didn’t judge him; they didn’t look at him with pity. They were just as lonely as he was.

But, if your name is Brian Slomowitz, it turns out that you can never have much of a good thing for long. All those bad choices have a habit of catching up with you. He’d worked the cleaning job for about a year when he fell in with a bad crowd he met through his weed dealer. They weren’t a gang – that makes it seem like they were organised. Mainly, it was a group of guys who did bad shit. Stealing, mainly, though some of them dealt drugs on the side. Brian picked up a few gigs through them. His reputation growing up preceded him, so he ended up running drugs or guns or whatever they needed. It was kind of fun. There was a peculiar incongruency about spraying Windex in someone’s house when the van outside had a few cool kilos of coke sitting outside.

The Outbreak.

In late 2019, Brian got busted. It was totally bullshit. Someone squeaked. Their big mouth got Brian and everyone else raided and thrown in front of a judge. Brian’s track record worked against him and he was sentenced to twelve months for possession, six with good behaviour. Prison wasn’t too bad. Brian had only ever done stints in community service or in juvie. It always reminded him of the foster homes of his childhood, and in that sense, he fit right in. There were plenty of things he learned in prison, like how to fashion a shiv out of a plastic knife, or how to get on the good side of whoever’s top dog (blowjobs; the answer’s always blowjobs). Come mid-2020, his appeal was successful and he was let out on parole. But turns out that even a cleaning company has standards, so he once more found himself out on his ass, bumming around his old haunts, and sleeping rough (he’d lost his shabby, shitty bungalow while he was inside - what luck). By the time the apocalypse rolled around, Brian was bored out of his mind. If anything, living hand-to-mouth - this time with extra adrenaline - had a certain thrill. Who would have guessed that a lifetime of running from the cops, hiding in dodgy places, and thinking quickly, could come so in handy at the end of the world?

Finding the Caravan.

Brian didn’t so much find the caravan as go running right into them. He’d boosted a car in Austin and gone tearing out of the desert. When he found the caravan, all he had were the clothes on his back, an old backpack, and a switchblade he’d had since he was a kid. In other words: he had jack shit, and it was entirely down to the goodwill of the others that he was let into the fold in the first place. It was a miracle, really, considering he hadn’t showered for about a fortnight and was near rabid for want of nicotine.

These days, Brian doesn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Rather, he’s the one with the big mouth. He talks a lot of smack and takes pleasure in pointing out the stupid elements in someone’s plan… but he’s also among the most easygoing of the caravan, and he doesn’t mind volunteering for the jobs that no one else wants to do. He spends a fair amount of time bumming cigarettes from people and napping (rolled up in his leather jacket, unwashed hair flung over his face, mouth wide open, snoring). He’s become something of a punching bag for people’s frustrations; Brian doesn’t really care. He’s had a far harder life than most of these white tennis-shoed, cozy middle-class idiots. They had dental plans and life insurance; Brian spent the past two months of the world trying to get into sheltered housing. Yeah, he’ll be fine. If anything, the apocalypse kind of suits him.

positive personality traits: easygoing, charismatic, quick-thinking, assertive

negative personality traits: duplicitous, self-serving, cynical, jaded

played by Millie, She/Her

[anyway-i-love-vanderwood]

Hey! So, in honor of the holiday (and my poor, poor throat), how would the gang deal with MC being sick of Valentine's Day? The specifics can be up to you, it is your writing, as long as we can see some sweet Vanderwood? lolol

✿I wanted to do something short and funny to get back into HCs so thank you for this!

Yoosung

Until he actually hears your voice, he’s terrified that this is an excuse and he did something terrible to upset you. Like - oh no!! I’m the worst boyfriend!! So bad that my partner is faking sick because they’re worried I’ll publicly embarrass them or something!

I have to cancel the mariachi band I hired to serenade us at lunch!

(It was Seven’s idea. Yoosung has got to stop listening to that man.)

Once he realizes just how genuinely clogged, snotty, and feverish you are, Mama Yoosung comes out in full force. He spends the day doing all of your chores, feeding you, and generally being supportive, sweet, and loving.

He Googles every single home remedy for colds under the sun, adds in a few more from his mom, and makes you take them all.

After the fifth dose of bitter paste, you tell him that you’d rather fall into the sweet, cold embrace of death, thanks.

NO YOOSUNG, YOU ARE NOT DRINKING LIZARD BROTH.

Zen

When he learns that you’re sick, he howls with such despair that the neighbors actually bang on his door to make sure he isn’t fatally wounded.

How can you be sick? On VALENTINES DAY? The most important holiday of the year??!? He was gonna show you off to everyone! He was going to make all the singles feel what he felt when couples were broadcasting their oo-ey gooey love on the February Fest of Romantic Bliss! HE WANTED TO FEED YOU CHOCOLATE FONDUE AND GIVE YOU FIVE MILLION FLOWERS.

“Five million?” You repeat dully, your voice ragged from sinus drainage.

“Five million!”

Obviously, he insists on at least coming over so you can see his beautiful face watch romcoms together and cuddle, but he’s also an irrepressible cuddlebug and can’t not pull you into his lap for snuggles.

And smooches.

Zen, you’re lucky you have a god-tier immune system despite your nutritional intake being piss-poor, because you’re just inviting it in at this point.

Jaehee

On the disappointment scale, Jaehee checks in at around a… two or so?

She’s honestly more worried about you while simultaneously being annoyed that the booming business of Valentines Day means she can’t take time off to fuss over your health. Not that she doesn’t try, but you won’t let her because she needs the income. Running a small business is tough!

At around noon, a ring at the doorbell reveals Zen, who - with a flourish - reveals a bouquet, a resupply of medicine, and a drink from Jaehee’s cafe made especially for you. Zen will act as the courier of his favorite couples *~love~*!

Thanks zen

Once Jaehee can close up, she rushes over to come see you, and you have a wonderful, low-key tea, movie, and heart-shaped cake (that she made!) date on your couch.

Even though you’re sick and icky, it’s a nice day overall. Jaehee is a modest, warm, and caring soul who makes your stress just melt away by sitting next to you.

Or giving you a nice massage.

Thank you Jaehee and your martial arts grip!

(The others are under the read-more!)

Jumin

Oh Jumin.

He starts off the day with a racket. How could you have gotten sick? Where have you gotten germs from? STAFF, DISINFECT EVERYTHING NOW!

Once you get him to shut up honey please you are only making the headache worse, he gets much easier to deal with. Because of Jumin Han being Jumin Han, you are never actually obligated to leave your home and you have everything your heart could ever desire in the medicine, food, and chocolate category… but you still want to do something for Valentines Day with him.

Especially since Jumin Han has never gotten the chance to, well… experience the holiday in a pure way. What it actually means beyond the giant stuffed bears, fancy champagne, and chocolate truffles with too many vowels in their names.

So, you make him go on a walk with you.

He’s resistant - won’t that make your condition worse? Your insistence that you actually would like some fresh air makes him relent, and you take a short stroll together to a local park.

It’s… honestly really nice, snuggling against him against a bench and enjoying a puff pastry from a local food truck as you search for warmth against the chilly air. You people-watch, you point out fun outfits and sweet couples, and Jumin is reminded once more just how much he likes spending time with you.

No matter the setbacks, no matter the weather, no matter your current antibody level… just being with you is wonderful for him.

707

When you open the door, a rain of red sparkly glitter and shimmering confetti hearts showers down upon you. Beyond the pink mist is Seven, grinning like a jaguar and carrying a bottle of champagne in one hand and NyQuil in the other.

“Honey, I got you a gift you’ll never forget!”

“What, permanent liver scarring from combining alcohol and acetaminophen or the glitter I’ll never get out of my carpet?”

“Both!”

(But seriously please do not drink and take Tylenol/DayQuil/etc it is a bad body choice)

Setting the champagne aside for later (like, when you’re feeling better later), Seven pulls out your real gift, which is an intricately detailed chocolate sculpture of the Mars Rover that he had commissioned for this special occasion.

Like, it’s so pretty that you can barely bring yourself to eat it.

How did you get this, Seven.

This is ridiculous.

Seven takes you being sick in perfect stride, almost like he’d planned for this happenstance, and you have a wonderful Valentines Day with him playing video games, watching movies, and talking about which spaceships were destined to fall in love with each other.

It is a ship war.

V

“Oh… oh no… I didn’t get you sick, did I?”

v stop blaming yourself for everything!

V has had a rough time on the dating scene, so it doesn’t matter if you’re sick and feel like shit YOU ARE TAKING THIS MAN OUT ON A DATE.

“But - “

“NO BUTS, V. TODAY IS A DAY FOR AGGRESSIVE COURTING.”

“okay”

Armed with a bag full of tissues, a thermos of tea, and the desire to show V how good you are at romance, you take him to an art gallery, a concert, and a FANCY RESTAURANT WITH CAKES SHAPED LIKE ROSES. ROSES.

“D-do you… need to step out?” V asks in a hushed whisper as you try to blow your nose as quietly as humanly possible during a violin solo.

“i ‘ m f i n e”

He thinks its sweet, though he really does wish you’d spent the day resting given that tomorrow you’re even sicker. He’ll do all the dishes and bring you some hot tea in thanks for your struggles.

Saeran/Unknown

BUT YOU AREN’T ALLOWED TO BE SICK ON VALETINES DAY, IT’S AGAINST THE RULES, HOW ARE YOU SUCH A BAD PARTNER WHO LETS THEMSELF GET SICK -

*cough cough* goes Saeran, and your eyebrows go up.

“Saeran, are those tissues in your pocket?”

“no”

“Saeran, is your… voice cracking?”

“nO”

“Saeran, is your nose red and running -?”

“NO AND STOP ASKING”

Anyway, long story short, the world’s favorite idiot dandelion is also sick on Valentines Day which is pretty typical considering he spends most of his time around you. Given the both of you are too mutually stuffy to go out and enjoy the day, you stay in and have tissue-basketball competitions and engage in your favorite pastimes: being annoying on the Internet, eating too much junk-food, and mutually refusing to admit that you’re both watching Twilight unironically. 

Which is honestly what you might be doing if you weren’t sick, but let’s not critique either of your dating techniques here considering its a miracle you aren’t both dead in a ditch somewhere.

Vanderwood

So uh. Does the relationship code obligate them to hang out with you on Valentine’s Day?

Yes?

Shit.

Look, they don’t like being around sick people, okay? And you’re so runny and germy right now. But Vanderwood also supposes that if the most romantic thing they can do today is clean up your snot, then whatever. It’s not like they actually care about a soulless corporate consumer holiday like Valentine’s Day or had plans for it or anything -

(”Vanderwood, are those tickets for that super popular musical that’s been sold out for two months sticking out of your pocket?”)

(”NO.”)

Anyway, you’re a walking plague ward, so Vanderwood puts on their face mask, strong-arms their way into your apartment (despite you telling them at least fifteen times that it’s fine, really, you don’t actually mind, they’ll catch what you have!!) and makes you chicken noodle soup. Like - goes all out on this chicken noodle soup. They make the noodles by hand! They simmer shit! Look at all of those finely chopped carrots and bits of celery, it’s like an episode of Top Chef! Damn dude, is that fresh oregano? Like, from a plant? WHY DID YOU BRING AN OREGANO PLANT OVER VANDERWOOD.

Despite them telling you to stay in bed and rest, they’ll bring you tea and medicine and cold cloths for your head, you insist on helping them. The germs will boil away with the heat, right? That’s how science works!

Vanderwood isn’t sure if that’s how science works or not, but they break when you say you don’t really want to be left alone and miserable in your room, and there’s something really appealing about you standing next to them, slicing bits of dough into thin strips of noodle and leaning against their shoulder for support…

Happy Valentines day, Vanderwood. Welcome to domesticity.

[buckyownsmyheart]

Déja-Brew [one-shot]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 3k+

Summary: He was an Avenger, she owned a coffee shop. Let’s be honest, it was meant to be. Well, that’s until someone decides kidnapping people is a good idea.

Warnings: None!

A/N: Am I posting this because I’m procrastinating editing Duty? Is it very quickly written and unedited? That’s for me to know.

The one thing that you’ve been set on your whole life was owning a coffee shop. People often teased you about your dreams, but you couldn’t care less. School had never done it for you, and so when you could, you left school, took out a loan, and started the business that would become ‘Déja-brew’.

After a busy morning of commuters and the later surge of teenagers, you tidied up your space by wiping down some tables and replacing the board games that were strewn on them. You looked around an admired your place, because you were proud of it. The other day you had put in some new shelves to house the new books people had been bringing in. People loved donating books, enjoying the idea that they would be read and not sit on a dusty bookshelf somewhere else. Straightening a blanket on one of the armchairs and stoking the fire to keep off the autumnal chills, you gave a start when someone banged through the door. The hulking man that had just entered your shop made such a racket that the entire shop looked up to stare at him.

He filled the space beside the door, looming over the delicate tables next to him. A cap was placed low over his face with tendrils of dark hair poking out of the bottom. He was dressed in black, with a peak of a blue sweater under his worn leather jacket.

You hurried back behind the counter, eyeing the man a little warily. He seemed to wince at the attention from the other customers and ducked his head as he wandered over to where you were standing, feeling a little taken aback and speechless.

“Sorry about that, I, uh, didn’t mean to make you jump.”

“No, you’re alright!” You feigned enthusiasm and tried to give your brightest smile at him, but it faltered a little under his gaze. “Can I get you anything?”

He looked over his shoulder, his eyes flitting to the outside before turning back and looking up at the menu. It looked as if the decision was paining him, bewilderment plain on his features, and you couldn’t bear the silence for much longer.

“The pumpkin spice is my dad’s favourite, if that helps?”

“Yeah,” he said a little too quickly, “Yeah that one would be great.” He nodded, and took the cap off of his head, running his hands through his long hair.

You breath caught in your throat because oh my he was gorgeous. Tanned and weathered skin gave a stark contrast to his bright blue eyes, brought out so intensely by his blue jumper. Spinning around to the coffee machine, you went about adding various syrups and spices. When he was looking at the cake selection, you took a chance in giving him another look-over, and couldn’t shake the feeling that something about him was familiar. As you handed him his coffee, you found yourself asking him.

“Have I seen you before?” Before giving a slight chuckle and gesturing to the shop name behind you, “Because that would be ironic.”

“No, I don’t think so.” He looked a little embarrassed but laughed nonetheless, “Think I would remember a face like yours. Did you make these cakes?”

You blushed furiously as he complimented you, and then moved on as if he hadn’t caused your heart to do a little dance in your chest. “Yeah, make them every morning! My gran taught me.” If possible you blushed harder, “Sorry, I don’t know why you needed to know that.”

He laughed again, harder this time, before paying for his coffee and a chocolate pastry, and sitting down by the window in your favourite seat.

--

Bucky had never felt anything like the joy that swooped in his stomach when he made the poor girl behind the counter blush so hard. His morning had started off crap, and ended worse by being chased by bad guys through the busy streets of New York, and my god he hated people. He had ducked into the most inconspicuous shop he could find, albeit barging the door a little harder than needed, and that was how he found himself stuck in a new age café with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. There was something so effortless about her look, and her movements were like a dance, fluid and graceful. He couldn’t help but flirt with her, finding a little bit of the old Bucky poking through, making people swoon with a charm he possessed so little nowadays.

The pumpkin drink she had made him was the perfect mix of warm, sweet and spiced. As he gazed out of the window, the smile that had affixed itself on his face fell as he saw the men he had been hiding from looking around outside the shop. Grabbing the nearest thing to him, he placed it between his face and the window, shielding him from their line of sight. A voice broke his concentration as the woman cleaned the table next to him.

“You might need a few more people to play that one,”

He was confused for a second, thinking she was talking about his stealth techniques before he realised that he was holding the lid to ‘The Game of Life’. He lowered it almost immediately, racking his brain for an explanation that wouldn’t make him look even more like an idiot. Frantically scanning around for inspiration, he caught the eye of the man in black out the window and Bucky swore very loudly, causing everyone to look at him again. He ran out of the shop as fast as he could, but it wasn’t until he was outside of the compound that he realised he’d left his jacket behind.

--

Your startled face was reflected back at you through the other customers as the mystery man bolted out the door, giving it another loud smack as it closed, making you wince. You tried to say a faint, “Your jacket…”, as you watched the door swing a little from the slam. Looking out the window to try and see what had made him dart from your shop, but you only saw the usual bustle of the New York street. Shrugging, you turned back to your cleaning, trying not to dwell too much on the handsome stranger.

It wasn’t until later that evening, whilst closing up, that you realised you managed to leave your own coat at home. Imagining the biting sensation that the freezing cold would leave on your skin as you walked home, you shuddered. Grabbing your keys, you spotted the man’s jacket. It looked so warm! And surely he wouldn’t miss it for one night? He wasn’t going to be coming back before you next got in at 5am tomorrow morning, was he? You could wear it, purely for warmth purposes, and return it without anyone noticing. Slipping the jacket on, and trying not to get too overwhelmed by the pure masculine scent that hit you, was that sandalwood? You walked out, gently closing the door behind you and locking it. You were right, the cold nipped at your exposed hands, and you shoved them deeper in your, well his, pockets and completely enveloped yourself in the large jacket. So maybe your behaviour was a little stalkery, and you needed to stop stealing clothes from attractive strangers, but you could definitely get used to the sensation. It had been too long since you last had a boyfriend to steal clothes from. Not that you wanted the stranger to be your boyfriend. That would be weird. He only said about 3 sentences to you, no matter if one of them was a compliment! Was it even a compliment? Or was he saying that he would remember your face because it was so hideous that it had been imprinted in his mind for all eternity, plaguing his nightmares? Maybe you would ask him when he came to collect the jacket.

A noise behind you broke your trail of thoughts, and you turned around, trying to see what had made it. In the faint lights of the streetlamps, you tried to make sense of the shapes, but all you could see were a few dustbins and boxes. Turning back to your path, you came face to face with a man. His crooked nose and unruly eyebrows were enough to give you the creeps, not to mention the glint of a metal tooth, and the prick of something sharp against your neck. You had frozen, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. You couldn’t die here! Not now! You were wearing the strangers clothes and he would find out you borrowed it for the night!

You felt stuck in an invisible mud, your limbs disobeying every command your brain was making to move. The man in front of you leered and you felt the pressure on your neck tighten. His breath on your neck was enough to make you feel sick, but before you knew it, a hood was over your head, and you were shut off from the outside world.

--

Something must have been in that hood, because the next thing you knew you were lying face down on a bed. Its fibres scratched at your face and something uncomfortable poked into your back. Sitting up, you shook your feet to try and get some feeling back into them, and looked around your surroundings. For a cell, which you assumed this was, it wasn’t half bad. Not that you had much experience in cells, but this one was clean, you had a bed and a toilet, with enough space on the floor to lie down if you wished. Granted, you wouldn’t want to spend more time than necessary, but at least you weren’t strapped to a chair! Before you could even think about being scared of the situation, the door clanged open and a surly man walked through the door, his barrelled chest protruding first with unruly chest hair sticking out the top of his t-shirt.

“Um, excuse me,” you spoke, trying to hide the waver in your voice, “I’m sorry but I think you’ve got the wrong person see, I just work in a café, and I don’t have much money. Well, not liquid money anyway. I mean you could have the shop but that would take years and you’re much better finding someone else…” You trailed off as he looked sternly at you.

In a thickly accented voice, from somewhere you couldn’t quite place, the man’s rumbles filled the room, “We want knowledge, not money.” And without a seconds notice, the black hood was over your head again, and darkness filled your senses.

The next time you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was a swinging light situated directly in front of you that was far too bright to be legal. There were presences all around you, and you could feel their eyes piercing into your every side and inch of your body. You went to rub out the tiredness that had stuck to your eyes, but your wrists met resistance, and you realised you were strapped to a chair. I guess you had called that one. Feeling more awake now, and fear kicking in, you looked at the men surrounding you and tugged harder at your wrists, trying to free them or even loosen the knot a tiny bit, but it didn’t budge. There were four men that you could see, and you assumed there were more behind you and outside the door. You were trapped, and you had no idea why! You couldn’t give these men anything they wanted, knowledge? Maybe your secret carrot cake recipe, but you had a feeling that’s not what they wanted.

“Bucky Barnes,” a gruff voice spoke in front of you, British in nature, and you looked back at him, bewildered. Bucky Barnes? Wasn’t he that ex-assassin Avenger? You had heard many people deliberating the topic of who would you date, Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes? It seemed to be the classic tall, dark and handsome versus a pretty boy, but you had never really invested yourself in that. Wait. Tall, dark and handsome, with piercing blue eyes, and an apparent taste for pumpkin spice and leaving his jacket in coffee shops. That’s where you had seen the stranger from before! He was Bucky Barnes! How could you have been so stupid not to recognise him?

“Bucky Barnes,” the voice cut you off again, “Your boyfriend. What is he planning?”

“Boyfriend?” You were confused again, “He’s not my boyfriend?”

“That’s his jacket, no?” He gestured to the jacket on your shoulders, and you couldn’t help the heat that crept up your neck, rising high onto your cheekbones.

“I don’t know anything about him, I promise! I run a bakery that he came to today! For the first time! I think...I didn’t even recognise him!” There was a bit of commotion outside, but everyone seemed to ignore it, must be a common occurrence.

“Then why are you wearing his jacket?” You remained silent. You didn’t have an answer to that one.

A loud bang saved you the embarrassment of having to answer that one and Steve Rogers strode through the door, followed by none other than Bucky Barnes. The latter looked up at you and beamed.

“Cake girl!” He shouted, and you had no idea why on earth he was so joyful in such a dingey cell.

“We also do breakfasts,” you mumbled, not quite sure why it was relevant. For some reason, every man in the room was stood stock still, and didn’t move. It wasn’t until Steve commanded them to stand down that they put their weapons down, making it seem a lot easier than you had been led to believe by the movies. Relief swept over you, and you felt tears falling down your face as you released the breath you had been holding, leaving nothing but a lump in your throat. You hadn’t realised how terrified you had been because you were too preoccupied with absorbing everything that was going on. A soft voice spoke from above you.

“Hey, don’t cry, you’re safe now. We’ve got you.” Bucky Barnes was now standing over you, holding the arm of the chair and slowly removing the ties holding you back. You collapsed into his arms clutching onto him and hugging him around his neck as you cried into his shirt. Dignity had flown out the window a long time ago. He placed his hands gently on your back, making soothing motions along it.

Not daring to look up, you whispered, “I’m sorry,”

“No!” He said so suddenly you pulled back in shock, “I’m the sorry one, you’ve been unfairly dragged into my mess, and it’s my fault. I’m just glad we got here in time.”

You only nodded, trying to wipe away the tears that insisted on falling, but keeping one hand on Bucky’s arm to anchor you.

“I don’t want to kick you whilst your down or anything, but… uh, is that my jacket?”

“Oh god, this is so embarrassing,” you let out a laugh, but it came out as more of a choked sob as the tears hadn’t fully resided yet. “Here, have it back, I’m sorry I took it, I don’t even have a good excuse, it was just warm.”

You moved to take off the warm jacket but his hands stopped you, replacing it back over your shoulders, “No, keep it, you’ll need the warmth.”

Bucky helped you to stand whilst people around you bustled about. You kept your eyes on him, trying not to think about the men, the situation or what was going to happen next. You weren’t quite sure if you could stomach any more excitement today.

Once in the car, you and Bucky sat in absolute silence. He had insisted on driving you home, but the others seemed a bit preoccupied with the whole situation. To fill the silence, your stomach decided to grumble obnoxiously, and you felt you cheeks flare up in embarrassment again, but Bucky just laughed and pulled into the next McDonalds.

--

After your first ‘date’ as Bucky likes to call it, you ended up seeing a lot more of him. He often came to your shop, sitting in his seat by the window, and reading a book or watching people outside. The first few times he visited was under the pretence that your croissants were like no other, but that soon dissolved, and he would come to see you, bring the occasional flowers to brighten up the shop.

Your first kiss was after an evening of talking over a Thai take-away, with soft jazz playing in the background. You had bargained cleaning the dishes if he dried, but whilst you were washing, he had come up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and swaying softly to the music. You spun around, accidentally getting bubbles all over his shirt which caused a slippery fight that had you both in fits of uncontrollable giggles. It was only fitting that it ended with a soapy kiss and wandering hands.

It was safe to say that having an Avenger for a boyfriend was good for business. Your café was booming, and constantly busy. You had brought out a whole new menu, with more Avengers themed cakes and coffee, including Cappuccino America, Bucky Buns and The Falcupcake collection.

On a quiet afternoon, Bucky was attempting, and failing, to ice a cake for Steve’s birthday. He had somehow managed to get the blue icing on his nose and in his hair. How, you were unsure. For the past hour, he had been making puppy eyes at you to help him, but it was far more fun watching him struggle, and it gave you a great view of his muscles moving beneath his top. It was moments like this you had never been more grateful to have been kidnapped.

[nitr0glycer1ne]

Ducktober/Duckvember 9 - Headcanon

Hi! My writing schedule for this is very hectic, but I've been working a lot lately and Death Stranding is out, so both of these have been keeping me busy... sorry!! I'll do my best to catch up on duck fics! I did a combo with this one since it features 3 headcanons of mine :) More on them in the notes at the end, so I don't spoil the story! Also first time writing Panchito and José so I’m stocked!! Enjoy!

It was supposed to be a calm Saturday in the McDuck Mansion.

Mrs Beakley was cleaning the hallways, Huey was absorbed in trying to earn his calligraphy Junior Woodchuck badge, Dewey was filming yet another episode of Dewey Dew-night in the triplets' room (even though it was the middle of the afternoon, since his filming sessions had been rescheduled courtesy of Donald and Della’s joint efforts), Louie was teaching Webby the ropes of advanced kart drifting techniques in his favorite racing game, Della was busy doing some maintenance work on the Cloud Slayer, and Launchpad was at an amusement park with Drake and his friend's adopted daughter Gosalyn. And since everyone was busy doing rather calm activities, Scrooge had taken the opportunity to sit in the library, comfortably seated in his favorite armchair, newspaper on his lap and a cup of warm tea on the small table near him, within hand's reach.

It was supposed to be a calm Saturday – “supposed” being the keyword.

Suddenly, an abominable noise akin to a deafening mix between a dying screech and an explosion vibrated through the whole house, startling all its inhabitants. Right after that first audible assault, a guitar riff resonated in every corridor and every room, its melody (if you could call it that) generously peppered with false notes. And as if it wasn't enough, a stream of somewhat rhythmic banging was added, and soon after what could only be described as the sound that someone recklessly stepping on a piano would make.

“What is that?!” Louie screamed, more annoyed than scared. He had looked forward to spending a normal day for once and was most displeased with the horrid cacophony. “I have no idea!” Webby answered excitedly, dropping her controller. “Let's investigate!”

The girl dashed out of the room, and Louie had no choice but to follow her. He really didn't want to, but the sooner they found the source of the disturbance, the sooner he could get back to his video game. As the ducklings were running in the corridors, trying to find the room the problem was coming from, they came across a very irritated Dewey.

“I was doing an interview!” he explained. “Whoever or whatever is making that noise will have to do some serious apologizing!”

Louie rolled his eyes, and the three kids kept running. They ended up in the entrance hall, the noise getting louder with every step; when they reached the bottom of the stairs, Della, Huey and Mrs. Beakley were already busy trying to locate the source of the noise. Said noise was still barely bearable; Huey in particular was looking particularly distressed, his hands tightly protecting his ears.

“What is going on here?!” Della yelled, her voice hard to hear above the cacophony. “I thought it was you, Dewey!” “What?!” the duckling shouted, offended. “Why would you think that?!” “Shut up!” Louie screamed as he held Huey’s right shoulder and pressed his older brother close to him, to comfort him and do his best to soothe his nerves. “You’re making it worse!”

Dewey was about to answer the youngest triplet but was cut short by his great-uncle joining them in the hall. Curiously, although he should have been the most annoyed by the sudden racket, Scrooge looked tired and resigned rather than angry. That startled even Mrs Beakley, who couldn’t help but ask:

“Mr McDuck, do you have any idea what-” “Yes, I do, Beakley.” he sighed, rolling his eyes and making his way to the manor’s right wing. “And I’ll put an end to it.”

Webby was the first to follow him, followed closely by Dewey and her grandmother. Louie stayed behind with Huey, waiting until his brother’s breathing had slowed down before they joined the rest of the group. They found themselves in the garage, where the noise was so loud it was painful to bear.

Since Launchpad had moved to live with Drake and Gosalyn the week before, the mansion’s garage had been eerily quiet without the constant, faint sound of Darkwing Duck reruns, or more recently, old rock songs. Now, however, the garage was anything but quiet, and the manor’s inhabitants understood why when they opened the door and found themselves face to face with what seemed like a fever dream.

Donald was wearing an old, tattered flannel shirt Della was sure he must have gotten as a birthday present twenty years before, and he was playing on an equally old electric guitar, his fingers running on the instrument with a surprising speed, but with a disastrous result. Donald had also combed his hair to resemble a fringe, falling on his forehead, stopping right before his eyes that were tightly shut closed as he was passionately shouting in what was probably an attempt at singing. Next to him, an antique accordion was propped on a chair, next to a flute and an acoustic guitar.

He wasn’t alone: two other persons were with him, and the four children were surprised to recognize him as Donald’s best friends, the ones they had met back in Brazil.

Panchito still had his sombrero on, but he was wearing tight denim pants and a leather jacket with shining spikes on the shoulders rather than the bright red outfit he had worn when they first met him. He was also singing, and was sitting behind worn drums, playing them with all his might, the sticks banging ferociously against the instrument. José was as into their “musical number” as his friends: he was standing behind a keyboard, hands expertly gliding on the keys, playing somewhat better than Panchito and Donald – which wasn’t saying much. He had gone through a wardrobe change too, wearing a white shirt with more buttons undone than fastened and slick black pants. José was singing his heart out as well, and sometimes his left hand left the keyboard to reach for a tambourine and shake it for a bit.

Huey and Della were in absolute disbelief at the scene, while Louie snorted and quickly reached for his phone, recording the disastrous attempt of a musical performance. Webby was confused, blinking quickly and looking at her grandmother for answers to her silent questions, Mrs Beakley answering only with a tired sigh. Scrooge was about to charge towards the trio, cane in his hand, but Dewey was quicker and louder:

“UNCLE DONALD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

His scream was so loud that Donald and his friends stopped immediately, drawing sighs of relief and pleasure from everyone else. He opened his eyes, and found himself face to face with a very angry duckling.

“Oh, bom dia, Donald’s family!” José greeted, not fazed in the least by Dewey’s tone or attitude. “It’s been a while!” Panchito added, smiling. “Yeah, yeah, hello. It’s not everyday that I can get prestigious guests on my show, and just when I was about to start interviewing Glomgold, you had to do… whatever that is!” “Glomgold?!” Scrooge almost choked as he heard his rival’s name. “Yeah!” Huey chimed in, having finally calmed down since the source of his discomfort had disappeared. “Do you really have to play so loud?” “And so false?” Louie added, saying out loud what everyone thought.

Donald looked a bit distraught, and Panchito and José looked at each other, confused.

“We weren’t playing out of key!” the rooster countered. “Si, it has been a while since we last practiced, but-” “It was atrocious.” Della provided. “Aw, come on, Dellita!” Panchito brushed her off. He stood up and ran to properly greet her, giving her a tight hug. He hadn’t seen her since she had visited Donald between two flights during his college days, and his duck friend had told him and José all about what had happened to her. “Come here! I’m so happy to see you!” “Sim, Della, you haven’t aged a day!” José smiled after giving her a hug of his own. “Flattery isn’t gonna make me less mad about you!”

Donald couldn’t help but feel a strange sensation in his stomach as he saw his twin sister reuniting with his best friend, a warm feeling tinted with nostalgia that brought a tear to his eye. He blinked it away, and when he opened his eyes, it was to find himself face to face with Scrooge, who was looking particularly crossed.

“Lad, the “no band practice in the manor without my permission” rule still applies.” “Uncle Scr-” “Band practice?!” Webby squealed, running away from Panchito ruffling her hair to Scrooge and Donald’s side. “I didn’t realize! It’s true that the three of you were the Three Caballeros! Since you said that last time, I did some research but didn’t find anything online!” “We were very, ehm, how do you say? Ah, underground!” José provided. “But I could give you a cassette we recorded. I have several back home.” “Aww, you kept them?” Panchito beamed, throwing his arms around his friend. “I’d love to, Mr Carioca!” “Please, call me José, docinha.” “Why… why would you want that?!”

As Webby explained how happy she was to put her hands on a tangible piece of Donald Duck’s history, Panchito and José decided to back their friend up, since said friend was looking a little guilty under Scrooge’s severe glare.

“Scrooge, sorry! We were so happy to celebrate the Three Caballeros’ revival that we might have gotten a bit carried away!” the parrot apologized with a smile. “Yeah!” Panchito added, firmly patting the old duck’s back. “We’ll be more careful in the future, promise!” “What do you mean, in the future?” Mrs Beakley sternly asked, her head already aching at the perspective of having to endure more of this torture. “You didn’t tell them, Donald?!” José gasped.

The duck rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“I… was waiting for the right moment and didn’t have the occasion?” “Told us what, Donald?” Scrooge squinted, sensing something not pleasant in the least was about to happen. “Donald said that since your garage was free now, we had all the space we wanted to practice and work on new songs for our upcoming album and concerts! Los Three Caballeros are officially BACK!” Panchito loudly exclaimed, José smiling in approval and Donald feeling very, very little under his uncle and Mrs Beakley’s intense stares.

A collective groan ensued, save for Webby’s enthusiastic “Yeah!”.

-

It was my first time writing Panchito and José, I hope I got them right! I took Spanish as a 2nd language (French being my mothertongue, English was my 1st foreign language in school, Russian my 3rd and Latin my 4th. Sadly I've lost almost all of my knowledge in Russian...) and don't speak Portuguese or Brazilian Portuguese so feel free to correct me. More on the 3 headcanons:

1) Sometime after season 2, Launchpad moves out of McDuck manor and goes to live with Drake and Gosalyn, although he still stays close to Scrooge and his family, especially Dewey! It starts as a simple roommates situation, but since I love Drakepad it ends with them in a relationship :)

2) Huey is gifted. It's probably me projecting, but Huey has a lot of traits often found in gifted people: being book smart, having interest in always learning new things and skills, trying to understand everything, being kind and trying to be as helpful as possible, and being easily anxious and prone to anger outbursts. I could go into detail about this haha, in fact I probably will in the form of a fic later in this challenge that will have Huey interacting with someone I also headcanon as gifted c: 2.5) And I can see Louie as being the one to calm him down the most easily when Huey has a spike of anxiety or a panic attack. Louie is good at reading people and he's also quite sensitive, which is why I can see him looking out for his big brother. Dewey just doesn't realize it, I think he has more difficulty reading people and understanding how they feel, especially if they try to hide it.

3) And of course the main focus of this fic, THE THREE CABALLEROS GETTING BACK TOGETHER !!! I really wanna see this in the show, even if it's just in passing. We know that Panchito and José will be in S3, and I really would like to see them and Donald playing music, even if it's just in a flashback or something!!

[katedoesfics]

Honey & Vinegar: Chapter 9

Pip met everyone else in the valley that night at the saloon. It was overwhelming, to say the least, as Leah brought them around from table to table, but Pip was grateful for Leah’s outgoing personality. It seemed she was generally well liked in the valley. And it didn’t take much for Pip to observe some of the other relationships within the town. And what they didn’t observe there in the saloon, Leah was happy enough to explain to them.

Pip met Willy the fisherman who resided on the beach, learning that Elliott, too, lived on the beach. They found Marnie sitting with Lewis, and Jodi and Caroline, who Pip learned was Abigail’s mother. They met Pam, Penny’s mother, at the bar, and Pierre, along with Robin’s husband, Demitrius. Clint the blacksmith sat at a table with Gunther, and to no surprise of Pip’s, Shane was sitting alone in a corner. And, of course, there was Gus, the owner of the saloon, and Emily, who Pip learned had a sister, Haley. And just as it seemed they were finishing with the introductions, Sam, Sebastian, and Abigail walked in, skipping the bar entirely and making their way into the other room where Pip learned that they often gathered to hang out and play pool when they weren't “making a racket in Sam’s room,” according to Jodi.

“They’re in a band,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Though, they’ve changed their band name more times than I can count, and they can’t seem to stick to one genre of music.”

For a brief moment, the elderly woman Pip had seen a few days prior arrived at the saloon, and Pip learned of her and her husband and their grandson, Alex, “the boy who’s always throwing that football around,” as the woman explained. When the introductions were all said and done, Pip found themselves sitting with Leah and Elliott once more. It had been some time since Leah had had a drink, too busy interacting with the other villagers, and she had mellowed out some as a result. Still, it was clear that she and Elliott were close friends, and they laughed loudly as they joked with one another.

“Pip says they’re gonna try their hand at making some alcohol,” Leah said. She turned to Pip. “You promised me wine, remember?”

Pip nodded. “I did,” they said. “And I intend to keep that promise.”

Leah grinned. “Good! I love a good wine night.”

“Seems like everyone here enjoys their alcohol,” Pip said.

Leah grew quiet.

“Not much else to do around here,” Elliott said.

“Some of us indulge too much,” Leah said. She glanced over at Pam at the bar, who was now heavily intoxicated. Gus had a clear look of annoyance on his face, but he treated Pam kindly, offering her assistance and quietly suggesting it was time for her to head home.

“We don’t need to get into that,” Elliott muttered. He turned to Pip. “Pam has been through some hard times, especially after she lost her job. She used to drive the bus in and out of the valley. But it broke down over the winter, and we just haven’t had the funds to get it fixed up. We used to get a lot of tourists around in the summer. We still do from time to time, but the bus brought in a lot more in its hay day.”

“That’s too bad,” Pip said. They turned back to the bar, watching as Shane made his way to Pam, offering his assistance and guiding her out into the night. This gesture came as a genuine surprise to Pip, further confirming that he wasn’t as much of a grump as they first thought.

“What’s his deal, anyway?” Pip asked curiously. “Got a thing against fairies or something?”

Again, Leah fell quiet. Her gaze lingered on the door for a moment before she turned back to Pip.

“I don’t know too much about Shane,” she admitted. “He hasn’t been here for very long. I think he moved here to be with Jas after her parents died. He’s her Godfather.”

“Oh.”

“I heard from Marnie that he was very close with her parents.”

Pip frowned. “Oh.”

Leah shrugged. “He’s got a bit of a drinking problem, too.”

Pip mulled over the conversation they had had with Jas when they first met. “Aunt Marnie says it’s just because he’s sad a lot. Can you make him happy with your magic?”

“Not that I’m one for gossip,” Elliott started, and Leah slapped his arm playfully.

“Oh, please,” she said. “You are so one for gossip!”

Elliott chose to ignore her, grinning. “Marnie and Lewis spend a lot of time together, though,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Leah giggled and ‘oohed’ playfully. “Well, at least someone’s getting laid around here.”

“You could get laid,” Elliott said.

Leah scoffed. “I could,” she said. “But all you guys want something serious and long term, and I’m so not about that life right now.”

Elliott grinned and rolled his eyes, then turned to Pip. “She’s a hippie painter,” he said. “Would rather be in the middle of the woods painting naked people.”

“What about you, Shakespere? I swear, sometimes you spend a whole week cooped up in that shack of yours, and when you come out, it looks like you just did a hundred lines of coke!”

“I’m a writer,” he said snidely. “I can’t help that I live off of coffee and noodles and sometimes lose track of time!”

“It’s no wonder you don’t have any solid relationships,” Leah said.

“You said so yourself,” he reminded her. “Us artists don’t have time to get tied down.”

Leah giggled. “What about you?” she asked, turning to Pip. “Any love interests in your life?”

Pip hesitated. “Fairies don’t generally get tied down with such nonsense.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Elliott said, raising his glass, and their bottles clinked together.

“Nothing wrong with it, though,” Leah said with a shrug. “Maybe there’s someone out there for us.”

“But what’s the sense in fretting over it?” Elliott asked.

“Touche.”

The saloon had started to empty out by now, and Gus and Emily were soon cleaning the counters, preparing to close for the night. Emily playfully tossed a rag at them, and Elliott yawned.

“Guess that’s our cue,” he said as he got up and stretched. He cleared their table, bringing their empty bottles and glasses to Emily with a cheerful smile.

The three of them left the saloon together, and in the town square, they bid each other goodnight before heading in their separate directions toward their homes. A dark figure, however, caught Pip’s attention, and they turned as Shane made his way across the square. He paused and turned to Pip.

“Hear any good gossip tonight?” he asked.

Pip hesitated. “Should I have?”

“I know how Leah and Elliott get when they get together and have a few.”

“They mostly talked about getting laid,” Pip said frankly. “I’ll never understand you humans and your constant need for physical affection.”

Shane snorted, then hiccuped. “You fairies are weird,” he said.

“At least we can hold our alcohol.”

Shane frowned, and Pip grinned. By some miracle, it seemed they had found a way to communicate with Shane. All it took was a little friendly smack-talk and heavy sarcasm.

“Alright,” Shane said. “Next time, we’ll see who can drink more.”

This time, it was Pip who frowned, and Shane who grinned eagerily.

“Wassa matter? Afraid I’ll show you up?”

No, it wasn’t that at all. But Pip couldn’t admit to Shane that they simply did not want to add to their clear addiction.

“Yeah,” Pip muttered. “I believe ya.”

Shane clearly wasn’t happy that Pip had given up so easily, but Pip didn’t dare push the matter further. It was becoming clear to them that the people in the valley had their secrets and their troubles. If it were anyone else, they likely wouldn’t have paid any mind to it. Pip, however, couldn’t help but to wonder if the trouble with Imps and the worries of Rasmodius were all connected to the troubled pasts and silent despairs the residents of Pelican Town clearly endured. There was a lot of tension in the valley. The strain of JoJa Mart, for one, clearly took a toll on the residents, torn between wanting to keep their quaint valley alive and keeping the big corporations out. It seemed the valley also provided a safe haven for those with darkness in their lives. The more trouble and stress that came over the valley, the stronger the chance for Imps.

It was a cycle that, if not broken soon, would destroy the valley completely and end life as they knew it.

[noragottem]

Promise Baby, You'll Love Me Forevermore

So uh hi. ive never written a naruto fic before this really so i guess this is a good start. 

word count: 1961

Rating: T i guess 

inspired by this fic right here and my contribution to kiba week. give jaz some love this fic is amazing. also be nice to me maybe idk okay here goes

@princejellychu @ino-buta @for2buns

It’s a fine, nearly spring day when Kiba first lays his eyes on what has to be the finest boy he’s ever seen. 

The dogs are running low on food and Kiba’s been sent to fix that. It’s a good long walk usually canceled out by a car he’s no longer allowed to use. At least til his momma forgives him. He spots Naruto’s bright yellow hair as he enters the store and resists the urge to tackle him. Naruto’s not alone and Kiba has some kinda home training. “Que pasa pendejo?!” He yells across 3 aisles. Home training never included an inside voice. The group turns around and Kiba recognizes the redhead; Gaara, knows how to party, always brings coke but exclusively for Naruto. The tall blonde with the large space puffs that are out of this world he doesn’t recognize but she fits the description of the girl Shika’s so hung up about. Kiba thinks he understand, her legs do go on forever. He doesn’t focus on her for long because last boy, dressed in all black from his beanie, to his fingerless gloves, to his combat boots has his attention in a vice grip. If the outfit wasn’t enough the boy has on dark purple lipstick he’s matched to his eyeshadow. Kiba dubs him “sexy goth” and needs his name immediately. The sudden wave of dehydration makes him trip over his own feet. He doesn’t fall, thank god, his reflexes are usually on point. He smoothly gathers himself making his way over to Naruto. “Gonna scare all the customers with that racket, dog breath.” Naruto says with a smile slinging his arm around Kiba’s neck in a not so gentle hug. “I’m sure Lee wouldn’t mind.” Kiba replies when Naruto releases him. “Who do we have here?” “Well you know Gaara. This his brother and sister.” Naru says pointing to each respectively. “Temari,” the blonde says waving with the bag of chips in her hand. “Kankuro.” Sexy goth says, and offers his hand to Kiba. Kiba takes it with a lopsided grin. “Kiba. My mom owns the kennel, good friend of Naruto’s. Single.” Kankuro raises his brows, impressed. If Kiba takes too long to let go of his hand he doesn’t say. “You didn’t tell me your Suna friends were fine as hell.” Kiba says to Naruto in Spanish. “You never asked.” Naruto says. — Later when everyone gathers at the Namikaze house his friends shake their heads at him. “You ever met a bitch named shame?” Shika asks. He’s propped up against Naruto’s bed nursing a can of beer. “We’re not on speaking terms right now.” Kiba shrugs from the beanbag in the corner. “I cannot believe that worked.” Chouji says. “What can I say? I am a gentleman.” “If you’re a gentleman I’m fucking lawyer.” Naruto says from the edge of his bed. They all crack up and Ms. Kushina yells that they better laughing over that homework. — The next time he sees Kankuro it’s two days later and he’s working his shift at the kennel. He’s mostly waiting for lunch time. The dogs are clean and in their cages waiting to be adopted. Hana’s in the back serving them lunch when Kankuro stomps in donned in another all black outfit. Same boots, same fingerless gloves, but a black hoodie and baggy black jeans. Kiba notes he painted his nails the same purple as his eyeshadow and lipstick. Favorite color. Noted. “Welcome to Inuzuka Kennel,” he drawls and gives that same lopsided grin. “What can we do you for? A dog? A friend? Both?” He’s never been one for subtlety. Kankuro pretends to consider this. “I guess bit of both.” Kankuro matches Kiba’s grin and leans over the counter. Well then. The tension is strong and pulled taught. “I’m heading out for lunch Kiba you want anything?” Hana yells on her way out. Kiba doesn’t break eye contact with Kankuro and answers, “two pork shoulder sandwiches from Akimichis.”  He hears his sister confirm and the door shuts. “Why don’t you step back here and we can see about that?” — Hana comes back in exactly half an hour, ever punctual. Kiba is has his chair tipped back and his feet in the desk which his mom hates and Kankuro sitting on the desk which Hana frowns at. She hands Kiba the bag with the food and he hands Kankuro the other sandwich. “Aight, get back to work before Mom makes you scrub this whole place down.” Hana says. Kankuro takes that as his cue to go. “I think I might come back another time.” “Oh did you see one you liked?” Hana asks. Both boys smile. “Sure did.” — “I hope ya momma busts ya ass for fucking on the clock.” Chouji says throwing a couch cushion at him. “Speaking from experience?” Kiba says catching it easily and sticking his tongue out. He doesn’t tell them Hana slapped him upside the head twice but was merciful enough not to tell his momma. — “You sure you not moving too fast?” Naruto asks one afternoon in detention. Its almost summer. Almost vacation. He wears his mesh shirt to school because it’s just that hot and thinks the detention is worth it. Iruka sensei lets them do whatever for the hour as long as they don’t make too much noise or leave the room. Shika’s there for snoring in trig, Ino for skipping gym, Naruto got into another fight, and Sakura, apparently cussed out the history teacher. “Maybe,” Kiba says. They’ve only been on two dates at this point and yes Kiba is counting that time at work. He hogs the phone every other day just to talk to Kankuro. He never thought of himself as someone who could manage a long distance relationship but here he is. Except- “We’re technically not exclusive yet.” He confesses. Ino practically shouts, “Why the fuck not?” Iruka looks up from his newspaper and gives her a look that says, “Really?” Kiba shrugs and that only makes her more mad. “What’s the hold up? You like him, he likes you, you both are only seeing each other so what’s the problem?” She says waving her perfectly manicured nails around. (The elephant in the room blares but neither her or Sakura hear it) “There ain’t no problem. It’s just never come up.” Kiba doesn’t usually feel insecure but right now he’s uneasy. It’s too soon to say he’s in love, but he’s never had a relationship like this. “You should probably get on that quick then,” Sakura says. “It’s different when you can’t see them everyday.” Kiba doesn’t like the implication at all. His stomach sinks a bit and Iruka sensei dismisses them for the day. — Kiba doesn’t really ask for much for his birthday. He appreciates a good party even when it’s a few days late and loves being surrounded by friends and family. Even when certain friends abandon him for their new boytoys. Fucking typical. “Are you pouting, birthday boy?” Kiba looks up to see Kankuro and to say his face lights up is an understatement. “You came!” He all but tackles him and almost knocks the both them into Shinos table. Kiba can’t see his glare behind his shades but knows it’s there. He doesn’t care. “You’re surprised? Why wouldn’t I?” “Well,” Kiba starts. God since when does he get nervous? “We never really talked about being official or anything-“ “We haven’t? I’ve been telling everyone my boyfriend lives in Konoha.” At this Kiba laughs wholeheartedly. “That answers that.” “Sorry for not being explicitly clear, Scotty.” He presses himself impossibly closer and kisses him longer than ever necessary. “I also came bearing gifts.” “You mean you weren’t my present?” “Well yeah. Consider it my apology for not being able to stay.” Kankuro hands Kiba a tiny bag and smiles. “Only the best for the birthday boy.” “Holy shit I love you.” —

In a month or so momma Inuzuka will let Kiba take his permit test and Kiba will be allowed to borrow the car again. The first thing he plans to do is book it to Suna and spend a week in Kankuro’s bed. It’s just not fair he doesn’t get to go to Suna when Kankuro gets the privilege of travel from being a mayor’s son. Speaking of mayors sons-

“Ya boys are here to spring you.” His mom says as he’s finishing up a mornings worth of dog grooming. Naruto has the bright idea to take Shika to Suna to get him laid. Kiba doubts it will happen but now he owes Naruto big time and wonders if he should ask if he can read minds.

Kankuro’s tracing the scars on Kiba’s arms. They don’t hurt anymore but it’s still an ugly reminder. Kiba had called it “a present from Konoha’s finest,” always defaulting to jokes to keep the mood light.

Kankuro had given Kiba a brief tour of his room; from the various posters of metal and punk bands hung haphazardly to the small woodworking projects he’s accumulated over the years.

(This tour obviously ends with Kiba’s tongue down Kankuro’s throat. While Kiba enjoys hearing his boyfriend enthuse about his projects, that’s not really what his friends drove through a windstorm for)

“D’ya think Shika’s has any luck with Temari?” Kiba says comfortably snuggled up to Kankuro’s side.

“Nope. Which is sad because they’d probably be good together.”

“What’s the holdup?”

“It’s not him. It’s her and the fact that she’s currently into Hinata.”

“Shit, she is hard to compete with.”

“Just hope she doesn’t crush his heart into tiny pieces. That would make things awkward for us wouldn’t it?”

“Meh. Inconvenient more like.”

“Oh yeah I have something for you.” Kankuro suddenly remembers and Kiba pouts when he gets out of the bed.

“Why are you always the one getting me stuff.”

“I just like spoiling you.” He reaches into a drawer on his desk and Kiba hopes he’s not blushing too hard. “Plus, you did come all the way out here and it’s not like Suna weather is nice to you city folk.”

“Said the goth in the desert.”

“I’m committed to my art.” He holds up a chain with a single charm on it. Kankuro continues before Kiba can ask.

“My granny Chiyo gave this charm bracelet a long time ago. Don’t usually wear it because I’m afraid of losing it.”

“And this charm?” Kiba asks placing his hands under it.

“Is my favorite.” It’s a skull, painted a metallic purple with two black gem for eyes. “You gonna turn around so I can put it on you or just stare?”

Kiba’s never been one for jewelry but there’s no way he’s ever taking it off.

—

+

“So this is famous novio.” Tsume says as Kankuro steps out the car.

“Miss Inuzuka-“

“Please call me Tsume. I don’t know what my son has told you but I’m not that old. Is this for me?” She says pointing to the present in Kankuro’s hands.

“That it is. Kiba said you were also a fan of this brand. Thought you would appreciate it.”

“Oh boy you didn’t have to butter me up I already liked you.”

“It’s no problem Miss Tsume.”

“Come on in Hana just made dinner.”

Kankuro slips into the house and Tsume catches Kiba by the back of his collar. “You didn’t defile my car did you?” She asks him in Spanish.

“Who do you take me for?” Kiba asks, scandalized.

She hooks an arm around his neck and rubs her fist against his head. “I take your for my son.”

Kiba groans but he can’t argue. Lying to his momma is useless anyway. The inevitable punishment is worth it.

[jiminies-ahmee]

Brother!EXO Reaction:

Seeing a picture of when the two of you were younger

Requested by the lovely @yuniv-bluetea, I hope you like it xx 

“The reader is the younger sister of EXO and they find an old picture of them together somewhere.” 

M I N S E O K

Minseok was taking advantage of EXO’s two month break to visit his family, and of course, you. His little sister. He set his bag down in his room, grinning as he reminisced the days of his youth he spent cooped up in this room.

He sat on the edge of the small single bed off to the side of the room, his eyes flickering over all the little knick-knacks he’d collected as a child, but most importantly, the pictures. All the polaroids taken in those years to highlight important moments in his family’s life.

He stood up, his hands reaching for an album of photos tucked away in a bookshelf. The cover of it was a bright orange, making it stick out like a sore thumb amongst all the comics and children’s books. Flicking through the pages carefully, he chuckled to himself, snapping a quick picture of the photos on his phone to show the members.

He suddenly came across a picture of you and him, big smiles spread across the both of your cheeks as he rested his chin on your head. His smile faltered slightly at the sight of it, realising that this really was how his life had been not so long ago. The two of you had been so very close and you still were, but the both of your lives currently seemed so different to be picture.

J U N M Y E O N

Being back at home was very much a needed moment for Junmyeon. After travelling all over the world and only seeing his parents and you through a screen, the feeling of homesickness began to set in. Though your mother had been insisting on inviting all the family over for dinner in honour of Junmyeon’s arrival, you knew a big crowd was something he certainly wouldn’t want.

And so, the four of you found yourselves sitting on the couch after dinner, the television playing old videos taken in your’s and Junmyeon’s childhood. But it seemed your brother was more interested in the albums your mother had brought out for him to see. From them he recalled all those funny and sometimes sad stories captured within the image, a smile etching its way across his face as he couldn’t help but feel so… Happy. Seeing pictures of you and himself playing around in the backyard of your old house, climbing trees in the parks and just simply enjoying every moment meant everything to him.

And perhaps he didn’t show it as often as he should, you knew your brother felt that the tight-knit connection of your family was so very special to him.

B A E K H Y U N

It was quite obvious to everyone around you that you and Baekhyun had quite a close relationship, being the only children in your family. You both quite literally only had each other, and you didn’t mind that. You’d been going through boxes of miscellaneous items in the basement, in search of your parents’ wedding album. You coughed slightly at the dust particles in the small room and moved over to a pile of boxes in a corner of the room. Opening the first one you could get your hands on, you pulled out an album. Finally, you thought with relief before opening it to find a picture of a young you and Baekhyun sleeping on the couch. You frowned, realising you had never seen these photos before and continues flicking through the pages. Pictures of the both of you in different parts of the world, playing dress-ups in the living room and feeding each other.

Your smile grew with each picture and you pulled your phone out, taking snaps of some of the photos to send to your brother. Upon hearing the numerous notifications from his phone, Baekhyun burst into tears having not seen you in so long. He saved each photo to his phone, setting his favourite one as his phone wallpaper to carry you everywhere with him.

Just know the next flight you’d be catching would be to your older brother’s side and you had absolutely no problem with that.

K Y U N G S O O

Kyungsoo was probably the best brother out there in your opinion, but many would say you were being biased. He’d cared for you since you could remember and had definitely taken his role as older brother quite seriously. He always carried a photo of the two of you with him when he was away on tour, always promising to come back and take you out to catch up.

It was late at night and the group had just finished learning the choreography for their upcoming comeback. Everyone had left, all of them ready to get into bed and switch off for a while before getting back to the studio again tomorrow. Kyungsoo, however, stayed back, panting slightly as he sat, leaning against the mirror. He pulled out the photo of the two of you, a smile etching across his lips as he sighed, head resting against the cool surface of the mirror. His thumb brushed over you face, chuckling to himself slightly as the story behind the photo came back to him in flashbacks.

Your parents had sent you out to the backyard to get some fresh air after spending most of the day indoors. The two of you had been making quite a racket before your parents had noticed you’d both gone silent. Anxiously, they made their way outside to see you and Kyungsoo ‘baking cakes’ with dirt and stray flowers that had grown in the garden.

Though Kyungsoo had pursued another dream of his, you’d gone on to make both yours and his dream a reality. You’d been accepted to a culinary school. Kyungsoo had helped you over numerous Skype calls with techniques and simple recipes he’d learnt over the years. You, his little sister, were his pride.

C H A N Y E O L

Chanyeol had always been known as the goofy, clumsy one, not only to his fans and band members, but to you too. You giggled as he tripped over his own feet on the screen, the beanie propped on his head sliding off slightly. He chuckled, moving his chair to sit in it. He sighed, his eyes trained on the computer screen which had a photo of you and him as kds as its desktop.

“So, we’ll be seeing each other in two weeks. You must be excited.” Your brother smirked. You rolled your eyes in response, his cockiness hadn’t changed one bit.

“Oh yeah, because I totally want to hear all my friends go on and on about how good-looking you are.” You groaned, shaking your head. Chanyeol laughed, his attention moved towards a framed photo on his desk which he reached over to grab.

He sat back in his seat, showing the picture to the camera. “Well, we are siblings after all, so you’ve got some of my good-looking genes in that DNA of yours.” Chanyeol joked. You laughed, moving closer to the screen to get a better look at the photo.

“I didn’t know you had a picture of us.” Chanyeol turned the picture back to himself, forwning.

“Of course I would, this thing has gone around the world with me. Gotta keep my little sister close to me.”

J O N G D A E

The boys knew how low Jongdae had been feeling lately. They’d finished promoting their new album and along with exhaustion came frustration and homesickness. Junmyeon had called you over the phone to explain the situation of your brother’s problem and you decided to send a picture of the two of you to him.

Though it made him cry and he wasn’t about to deny that to you, he felt much better being ablle to speak to you, even if it was over text. He posted the picture to the group’s Twitter account, as well as setting it as his wallpaper.

And, as a surprise, you planned to meet Jongdae secretly to cheer him up just that little more. As you pushed open the door to the dorm you could hear Jongdae whining about why Baekhyun hadn’t returned earlier. Bursting into a fit of giggles at how immature your older brother still was, you peeked your head around the hallway, Jongdae’s eyes going wide at the realization that it was you.

Y I X I N G 

Yixing had made it his number one priority to keep contact with you whilst he was away on tour. Though you talked everyday, seeing you through a screen and  in person were very different things and he couldn't deny that he was beginning to get sick of the Skype calls. 

Though his emotions were just teetering over the edge, it was a photo your mother had sent to him one day after a concert that Yixing had had enough. You were his confidante, always there for him while he did the same for you. The both of you had been so close from the beginning and it seemed like he just couldn’t get used to having you so far away. He immediately pulled a few strings to get you over to him, and within 3 days you were back by your brother’s side, watching him from side stage as his number one fan. 

S E H U N 

The age difference between yourself and Sehun wasn’t big and the both of you were quite content with that. You both got along well (most of the time), the time spent with one another was filled with laughter, a bit of bickering and good memories. 

The two of you were spending time after Sehun’s return home from tour, the both of you had been binge-watching a drama, but were in the midst of a small break. Your mother had been cleaning out a few things, several boxes scattered around the living room. You rolled onto your side, reaching over to one box to pull out an album. You beckoned for Sehun to lay beside you, the two of you flicking through the pages of it. Most of the pictures were of your parents when they had fist met through to their wedding day. 

Then came the pictures of Sehun after he had been born. You giggled at one particular photo of him with food all over his hands and face, “You used to make a mess of things back then too.” You joked, Sehun poking his tongue out at you in retaliation. “Aw, look, it’s us two!” You exclaimed suddenly. 

Sehun looked over the picture, a soft smile on his face as he glanced from the photo to you. He realised you hadn’t changed one bit. But he was completely okay with that. 

J O N G I N 

Jongin had been on a FaceTime call with your mum, the both of them chatting away about how their days had been going, what they planned on doing tomorrow. You had moved away from home to study abroad and it had been a long time since Jongin had seen or even heard from you. He decided that it was probably best not to distract you from your studies, but a part of him thought he wasn’t being a good older brother by doing so.

“Ah, Jongin, I went in to get something from Y/N’s room the other day and look what I found.” Jongin raised his eyebrows in anticipation as your mother left the view of the camera, popping back with a frame in hand. “Look at how adorable my children were once upon a time.” Jongin watched as your mother flipped the frame around, the image encased behind the glass facing him now. 

Jongin gulped, a faltering smile forming on his face as he saw that the picture was of you and him many years ago on your first day of school. The both of you were in school uniform, bright smiles on your faces and Jongin’s heart shattered at the sight of it. 

“Mum, I have to go really quickly. I need to call Y/N.” 

[juniorformulamotorsport]

Saturday, May 19th – Day 15, Pau

We started the day with minis, but sadly, despite the “Mini Crunch” being much touted, there were just a few cars on track. I counted 6 at this stage, which is not enough for a race round Pau, especially if you hope to get enough back for a podium! I was quite glad that I hadn’t flogged down to the paddock for them, but had opted for the Boulevard des Pyrénées.

After they finished, I popped to the ASAC Basco-Bearnais’ office on the corner to pick up our invitations for an event that evening, and made sure they were distributed to everyone which meant it wouldn’t matter if we failed to catch up on our way to the event. We stayed on the upper levels to watch the interesting collection of cars in the next event.

Speaking of interesting, there were some terrifying shoes on sale. Quite why they were being sold at an historic and classic car event, I have no idea as they seemed to be mostly motorcycle racing related.

We spent some time at Pont Oscar, mostly watching slightly lunatic Caterham and Morgan drivers in alarming action both on the entry to the corner…

On the apex of it…

And on the way out!

Following the pattern of the previous week, we also took a stroll over to the exit from the monument, and watched for a while from there. The Bugattis were especially entertaining, attacking the kerbs enthusiastically…

Throwing themselves sideways…

And generally seeming to be having a lot of fun.

They also left a fair amount of debris behind. I reckon the marshals’ on that post were well on the way to being able to build their own car from scratch!

And because we are sick and twisted people, we hung about out there to watch the historic Formula Fords, which were plentiful.

And also sideways!

After they stopped we figured we’d go and hunt down some lunch. The brasserie at the Palais Beaumont was fully booked and so the Hotel Parc Beaumont it would have to be, with or without ducks this time. Fabrice, the member of staff who served us last time, was again on duty, so we soon had our aperitifs to hand.

Knowing we’d be out in the evening as well, and having no idea how much food would be involved, we figured we’d best stick with just one dish each. I ordered a burger, again. This is something I never do in the UK, largely because I don’t trust the average burger in the UK on the grounds of either quality or provenance. This was very good, and thankfully not scarily big. It did come with a rather alarming amount of frites though.

Lynne ordered the goat’s cheese salad, from the starters. It looked good and she wouldn’t let me have any, so I have to assume that it was good.

To drink we chose another Provençal rosé, Commanderie de Peyrassol 2016, AOP Côtes de Provence because it’s a fine lunch time wine.

Even though the cars had stopped, it was very noisy in the park, mostly down to these little fellas. There were frogs everywhere, doing what frogs do in the spring, creating more frogs. It you got close they all dived into the water and hid in the lily pads, but if you were very still you could sneak up on them.

As soon as the Legends hared out, they seemed to think they had competition from larger, louder frogs, and so they stepped up the level. The ponds were a riot, as was the circuit.

A walk in the park revealed many lovely old classic cars, being polished, photographed, admired and generally appreciated. It clearly got a bit too much for one individual in the MG area.

While we were wandering about there was a somewhat unexpected blink-and-you’ll-miss-it fly past by the Patrouille de France, the French Acrobatic Patrol. They didn’t come back so I’ve no idea if there was meant to be a display or if they’d come over from somewhere else. You had to be quick to catch them though.

One of the cars I liked best in the park was this cute thing! It’s owners even cleared the area behind it so I could get a good shot of it. It’s good to see that friendliness is a common feature or classic car events.

However, the car I would have liked to steal is this gorgeous Citroen.

We went back to the Boulevard to watch a couple more of the qualifying sessions, enjoying seeing the Bugatti class in action from another angle.

And then we thought we’d better go back to base and get cleaned up.

In the evening we had tickets for the Nuit des Legendes de l’Automobile in the Palais Beaumont. We met up at Les Contrebandiers, all dressed up and ready to go out. The invitations had said “tenue de soiree” and when we reached the park it did indeed look as if everyone had taken the wording to heart. In the UK these days at least half of the men would have shown up in t-shirts and jeans, but not here. Everyone congregated on the terrace where canapes and Champagne were on offer, the latter free flowing very generously. Apparently they were also prepared to sell you some bottles to take home should you be feeling both strong and relatively flush. Champagne de Venoges were the ones displaying such largesse, and very generous they were too.

We were stuffing ourselves silly on the canapes, which were served by the team from the Hotel Parc Beaumont, including Fabrice. We accused each other of stalking, and had a good laugh about bumping into each other so often.

Wave upon wave of canapes seemed to be forthcoming and eventually we had to call a halt and wait until we got inside before eating again.

One more first though…

There were cars assembled around the pool in front of the terrace, and it was lovely to stand out there and admire them.

Eventually they called us in at around 22:00. The room was nicely laid out, and we were led to our table by one of the young, enthusiastic staff.

There were speeches, historic film of the event through its history, and much talk about what the future might hold, with a suggestion that they were aiming to become the “Goodwood” of France. They have some way to go but they do seem to have the passion to achieve this, especially if the “modern” Grand Prix becomes a thing of the past. Between the speeches the main, of veal, arrived and for a catered event it was pretty good. However, most of us were too busy focussing on the screens and the stage, where Jacques Lafitte was holding forth about what the event means to him.

We’d earlier had a telephone interview or two, including Alain Prost calling in from Monte Carlo.

It was all very celebratory and good fun, and with plenty of wine around the mood was buoyant. After the speeches finished, dessert was forthcoming.

By now it was getting very late, and we had another day of motorsport ahead of us. We declined the coffees, and headed for the hotel and another night of not being able to get to sleep until the wee small hours because of the racket outside.

Travel/Food 2018 – French Road Trip, Day 15, Pau Saturday, May 19th – Day 15, Pau We started the day with minis, but sadly, despite the "Mini Crunch" being much touted, there were just a few cars on track.

[moveslikekeithrichards]

Chapter 1 of my thing for brofessor andy (tw there's sui and death and shit)

[put under a cut for length, feedback below] [very awesome tho def worth looking at if ur into spoopy shit]

  Same old, same old. I sit down at the desk and get to work, typing up the data collected today. My colleague comes in, “Do you think they’ll ever let us out of here?”

    I nearly rip my hair out. “How many times do I have to tell you? Never. They put us in here and they’ll never let us out for fear of spreading the virus.”

    “Maybe after the war,” he says, shifting from foot to foot.

    “They don’t tell us anything, the war could’ve ended years ago for all we know. And doesn’t it ever bother you?” My words are muffled by the hum of the cleaning robots sliding up the wall, disinfecting as they go. My voice turns to a shout to compensate. “The fact that we’re trapped in here for the rest of our lives. Sometimes the self destruct button is tempting …”

    “You’d use the nuclear place to blow us all up? My son and me are here as well. If you want to off yourself, go ahead. But don’t bring me into it.”

    “Not a bad idea,” I say, heading to the bathroom.

…

No pills, no rope. Nothing. The building’s too secure, no roof to jump off of. My hand goes to my chin to think, and my stubble triggers an idea. I grab my razor and sit on the edge of the bath tub and close my eyes. I take a deep breath. The scent of disinfectant fills and burns my nostrils. I lift the razor and bring it towards my arm.

    Bang. Bang. Bang.

    It sounds like bombs are going off all around me, even inside my head. Everything fades to black.

…

    My eyes open and the lights are so bright. The walls are practically made of light. Something hard presses into the back of my head. “If you do not cooperate, you will be shot.” A guy in uniform says. I say nothing. “Are you aware of what your research is being used for?”

    “No.”

    “What were you doing when we bombed the lab?”

    “About to kill myself.”

    “Why?”

    “They don’t tell me anything. They didn’t plan releasing me. I was nothing more than a number in their equations.”

    “If you work with us, and give you your research, we can promise you freedom and citizenship here, though you will be a traitor to Russia.”

    “Deal.”

    I sit behind the counter of my dad’s record store, scrolling through the news on my phone as a record on the counter spins and Tom Petty drones on about free fallin’. Something about a new disease, World War III is still going on, a new Avengers movie is coming out. There’s no customers; there’s usually not at this time so I consider leaving earlier. The bell on the door dings, announcing that I’m trapped here for another hour. The man says he doesn’t need any help and heads up to the record loft. My attention returns to my phone before the bell dings again.

    A woman walks in, and her face makes my stomach twist. There’s boils and pieces of missing skin. Her eyes have a glassy look. “Miss, are you okay?” I ask. Her mouth goes through the motions, but no words come out. I begin the chew on the inside of my cheek, a nervous tic I developed as a kid as the woman ascends the stairs. A few minutes pass and I hear a scream. I get up on the counter and slide over and make a beeline for the stairs. I head up, taking two steps at a time. The man is laying on the ground dead, bits of his skin missing. The woman’s face is covered with blood and the skin of the man and she lunges at me. I grab a record off the shelf and start hitting her with it, but it does nothing.

    I use the record to shield my skin from her attacks as I walk backwards down the steps. I’m down and I run to the counter. The monster of a woman bumbles and trips her way down the stairs  and should take twice as long to get anywhere. I go over to the record player and rip the stick with the needle off and start hitting her with it. She lets out a scream, but it’s muffled and distorted and sounds almost alien. The warmth of adrenaline courses through me as I hit her again and again, somehow being able to avoid her attacks. She falls to the ground after several minutes. I stomp on her head until I’m sure she won’t be a threat anymore. The effects of the adrenaline wore off, and I now realized the fact that I got attacked by a monster. It’s fucking insane.

    I exit the store and hop into my car. I drive home much faster than usual. My eyes dart around, looking everywhere to see if there’s any more of those monster things in or beside the road. I’m too busy looking for them that I run a red light. Sighing, I slow down and keep my eyes on the road. They play tricks on me and several times I swear I see something out of the corner of my eye. Finally I arrive home, any later and I’m pretty sure I would have gone crazy. It’s late and everyone else is asleep so I immediately head up to my room. I shut and lock my door. I bulldoze the messy pile of video game and band shirts off my bed and into a laundry basket and crawl under the covers.

    Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

    Damn. I’m going to die.

    I glance at my alarm clock. Midnight, and there’s scratching at my door. The thing that tried to kill me earlier used its nails to attack. And there’s scratching at my door. I’m going to die. Logic tells me I should get up and find some kind of weapon. My instincts have me paralyzed out of fear. Breathe.  Gradually I move my arm. Down to the floor. My fingers make contact with the tennis racket under my bed and grasp it, preparing to fight off the intruder.

Meow.

    It’s not even an intruder. It’s my dang cat. I get up and open the door and pet him. After this scare, there’s no way I’m getting back to sleep so I get dressed and head downstairs. I did my hair and makeup much fancier than usual, if I’m losing sleep I can at least look good.

    About an hour before the bus arrives I sit at the kitchen table eating cereal and watching the news. “Due to an outbreak of a new disease, all schools in the district will remain closed,” So I’m all dolled up for nothing. “Experts say the disease is contained to the state and airports are closing in an effort to keep it that way. It’s recommended you stay indoors and avoid crowded places to protect yourself from the illness. If you develop an itchy red rash, seek medical attention immediately as that’s the first sign of the disease. Now onto the weather.” Somehow the peppy newscaster is able to make even a deadly disease sound alright.

    I decide to not waste the day like I normally would. I go over by the front door and grab the leash and harness that are hanging up by my coat. I pick up my tennis racket and some balls and make kissing noises. My cat comes running and I put on his harness. He’s all black and could easily be mistaken for a dog. He’s huge. 30 pounds of cat, no fat. We head out to the backyard and decide to take the leash off. He could get over the fence, but I don’t think he wants to. I ready my racket and pitch a serve to the wall, the ball bounces back and I hit it again. This time I catch it instead of hitting it again because I feel an itch and need to scratch my back. My nails dig into the soft skin of my arm and it feels delightful.

    “Hey, Lulu!” someone calls from behind the fence I just served a ball at. It’s my friend, Jakob. He scales over the wall like he’s done many times and his eyes travel up and down my body. “Skank,” he snickers, referring to my short tennis skirt. I roll my eyes and throw a ball at him. “Jesus. I’m not here to look at your ass, I’m here to talk about the fact that there’s a fucking zombie apocalypse happening.”

“No, there’s not. You’re so gullible. It’s just a disease making people crazy or something-” I’m interrupted by a scream.

“Welp, I’m out.” Jakob says before going back into his house.

    A waterfall of purple leaves drooping from the willow tree in the yard block view of the neighbor’s yard. There’s nothing on any of the other sides, just forest. I pull back the ropes of leaves to look. My neighbor lies unconscious on the ground. I quickly put Salem back inside and jump the fence. The elderly woman has a huge boil on her face. I nearly throw up. It’s filled with some kind of liquid and I can see something small wiggling inside of it. I forget how to move for a minute, and then my body catches up to my brain and I dial 911. I reach down feel her pulse. She’s dead.

    The paramedics come, ask me my name and if I know anything about her. I don’t. They put her into the back of the ambulance, and as the door close I see the boil pop, and she bolts up, her eyes glaze over.

Then, a guy who can’t be much older than me comes up. Despite his young age, he has some kind of uniform decorated with tons of badges. “What do you know about that lady?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

“Do you know anything about the ‘outbreak’?” The way he says outbreak sends chills up my spine.

“I was in a fight with one of the infected people.”

“Any rashes, itches?” I shake my head no. “Fever?”

“No, I’ve been totally fine.” He grabs my arm and yanks me away.

I slap him. “I don’t care where you’re taking me,but Jakob’s coming.” He’s completely unfazed by the slap and nods his head.

my dude, my bro, this is excellent, i love the way u add detailed description that one can picture easily without running on too long & also how u use subtle things like the narrators possessions to add character. i esp love the bit with the neighbor its such a quick thing but v nasty it sticks with u 10/10

the only thing thats bugging me is the inconsistency with indentation at the beginning of paragraphs/dialogue but idk if thats just something tumblr did? either way very awesome super cool concept u got going here & v easy to read too w/o being overly simple (not that theres anything wrong with simplicity) 

[isosduke]

All Heroes Fall - Christmas Special!

I’m soo, soo late but if you’ve followed my blog, with good reason!  So, with being a month late, here is the Christmas Special, I hope you enjoy!

The snow was falling quietly that night, as it had for many nights before then.  The peace and  quiet, however, was ruined by the sound of clanging metal off in the distance.  The darkness of night did nothing to hide the location of the racket, but rather made it stand out far more for the small shack-like house was lit up like a multi-colored spotlight.  Inside the small house was a familiar criminal duo, relaxed as usually and even a bit cheerful, well at least one of them was.

Junkrat sat on the dirtied carpet as he face a fire that was roaring in the fireplace before him.  He was humming a tune, one common to Americans during the holiday season but it was hard to really figure out what song it was with how offkey and tone deaf the singed man was.  Every so often though, he would seem to recall some of the words, though his singing was even worse than his humming.  “Ruddy the red-nosed reindeer, bugger had a shiny nose~”

There was a loud ‘thump’ noise from behind the male, though he seemed to pay little attention to that or the hate-filled glare he was getting from his usually silent partner.  “Jamison,” the low voice rumbled threateningly, “enough.”

The much smaller male still didn’t seem affected in the slightest.  “Ey, Roadie, wha-doya think of this?”  He asked as he half turned himself to show off his latest creation-in-the-works.  There were a few moments of silence before Mako sighed, holding the book he had been reading between his legs as he leaned forward in his worn chair to examine the thing.

Even with his usual hog-shaped mask removed, it was still impossible to read the man’s face.  Dull, bored eyes stared at the thing, and that was really all he could make out of it: a thing.  “What is it?”  He finally asked, his gaze falling to the blonde, who’s excitement seemed to extinguish slightly at the question.

He pursed his lips in annoyance as he pulled his current work back in front of him, he back to Roadhog once again.  “It’s a present, oooobviously,” he said, his tone clearly not holding back any annoyance.  Mako didn’t move for a little while after that as he watched the other go back to work, his offkey humming much quieter this time.  It wasn’t uncommon for Junkrat to do something like this, though his presents were usually handled in secret, the pattern was off for--

The larger man leaned back into his chair once again as he pulled up the book he had been reading, opening it again.  This was a special gift, it was for her, a small smirk graced the scared features of the usually emotionless man, missed by all as it hid behind a book and the only other person there was too busy to notice.

Not too far away was a larger house, much like the smaller shack it was tucked into the woods and was also glowing with Christmas light, though not quite as bright be seen from space.  Christmas music could be heard humming through the windows as the rest of the Overwatch team bustled about the house.  

In the living room, Jack was going through one of the bags of Christmas items they had purchased recently; as they were away from HQ, the team had decided they still wanted to do something and bought the festive decorations.  Lucio was decorating the Christmas tree with Lena’s assistance, she had been kicked out of the kitchen when one of her blink attempts led to cookie-component catastrophe.  Others were helping out in the living room or finishing up the lights outside while leaving Angela and Fareeha to deal with making cookies with Hana and Ana.  One would normally think that, such a situation wouldn’t be so bad, Ana is a mother so Hana should have been no problem.  That would have been the case if the older woman hadn’t taken up the notion of being the favorite Grandmother that loved to spoil her ‘Grandchildren’.  This had led to Hana eating way more cookie dough than she probably needed as well as the near destruction of the tree when the sugar kicked in worse than with any other child even Ana had ever seen.

So, with many of the Overwatch team re-decorating the tree, cleaning up other messes made during the sugar high, or just avoiding it all by taking care of the outdoor decoration, the night continued on with Ana not allowed to give sugar to the ‘Gremlin’ some, such as Jack were referring to the girl as after that episode.  After nearly an hour, the smell of sugar cookies began to fill the house.  Lucio, having finished with the tree made his way over and leaned on a clean edge of the kitchen counter.

“So, we going out to look at presents tomorrow?”  He asked the women as it had really been their (mainly Angela and Ana’s) idea in the first place.

“Absolutely,” it was Ana that had replied.  “We need a break after all the work we just went through.”  No one made it too obvious, but quite a few members tossed a glance to their Korean teammate whom had gotten herself into trouble and the group ended up having a couple of Australian criminals following them for some reason.

The excitement continued on for a little while until everyone decided to call it a night.

The group got up early the next morning, partly in hopes to avoiding a certain duo but it seemed like by the time the crew finished getting ready and had the two rented vehicles warmed up, Jamison and Mako just seemed to know that it was time to go.  Someone else thought it would be a good idea to stick those two, Hana, Lucio and Lena in Jack’s vehicle; the man clearly wasn’t impressed and the larger, silent and a bit more smelly male in the passenger seat wasn’t trying to calm him either as he sat silently, just watching.

If the initial excited chatter didn’t get to Jack, the explosion of excitement when they got to the city really did, though the only thing that kept him from acting out about it was the large silent man next to him.  Even before the car was shut off, Hana, Jamison and Lucio were out of the car and nearly vanished from sight.

“HEY!  DON’T WANDER OFF!”  Jack yelled through the window, something snapping at how they bolted like toddlers in a toy store.  There was a low rumble of a laugh from inside the vehicle that caused the man to freeze, looking back inside, there was only one person left, Mako.  The white haired male blinked at the impossible to read male (even without his mask); had he really laughed?

A pair of slender arms slid into the window as a much cuter giggle broke through the awkward stares.  “We don’t want to get left behind Jack,” Angela smiled at the man before turning to Jesse.  “Could you corral them back?”  There was a look in Jesse’s eyes, something questioning and not really wanting to do the task but he said nothing before tipping his hat and running off.

Several hours later, the group had been walking around for quite sometime.  The “kids” didn’t seem to tire and of course, Ana and Reinhardt were loving having them around and seemed to take over watching them, much to Jesse’s pleasure.

“Oh!  Look at that!”  Hana announced before dipping through the crowd to a store front.  Partly surprising the group, it wasn’t anything gaming related that drew the girl’s attention, but rather it was clothing.  Bags in hand, the group looked at the window, the women moving closer as the men kept their distance.  Jamison watched, confused more than anything.  His eyes fell to the brunette, her hair starting to grow out since she cut it after they had met.  While she still had the clothing he and Mako had gotten her, her usual suit was found its place back in her mech suit.

“They really have a lot of energy to keep going this late,” a chipper voice came from beside him.  Looking down towards the source, the much taller male spotted Lucio, one of the people in Overwatch that didn’t seem to push he and Mako away and was always up for fun.  He didn’t respond right away, though the confusion still written on his face made the other laugh and earned him a slap on the back.  “Them,” he said gesturing towards the girls that were chatting and pointing at various things in the window.  “We’ve been out for hours and they could probably go on for another few days.”  With another laugh he shook his head before opening one of the bags he carried.  “Hana should be excited about this,” he said showing the box to the other male.

Jamison recognized the headset; it had been something Hana had been eyeing for awhile but since they had been busy with work, she hadn’t had time for gaming let alone buying stuff for it.  A perplexed look crossed the male’s face for a moment before his emotions seemed to shut down, leaving a grumpy Jamison for the others to see.  She would like it.  His gaze fell to the others, what did they get her?  He thought about what he had been working on her back home, looked back at Lucio’s bag and suddenly felt his gift inferior.  Why would she like his more than that headset she had been wanting, or whatever everyone else got her?

Someone was tugging on his arm a moment later, blinking a few times, his gaze locked on the brunette in question, her smile beaming up at him.  “Come oooon Jamison, they’re going to light the tree!”  She moved her hand from his arm to his hand and was soon pulling the lankier male through the crowd, whether he wanted to go or not.

Even with dragging someone else behind her, Hana was good at navigating through the growing crowds in the street.  Before them was a massive tree that towered high above them, though unlike the rest of the lit street, in its current state, it looked dull and boring.  There was feedback through the speakers that surrounded the crowd, silencing them instantly before a voice came over saying, “From our family to yours, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!”  The tree before them then burst into an array of multi colored lights that illuminated the carefully place ornaments on its boughs.

Hana’s arm flew up, pointing at the lights in excitement as she turned to look at Jamison to make sure he was watching.  He was, just not what she was watching.  He chuckled at the smaller woman, she was cute and showing a far less aggressive side than her usual self.  He also chuckled at himself for worrying about what she would think of his gift.  Letting go of her hand, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back to his chest as he slouched, allowing him to rest his chin on the top of her head watching the tree together.  Oh, how that confidence would so soon be gone within a few days.

It was Christmas and the house that the Overwatch team was using was bustling with excitement.  The group was exchanging presents and watching Hana react to the gifts the others had gotten her, Jamison took his haphazardly wrapped gift and tucked it behind him.  The way her face lit up to the headset, not to mention the embrace Lucio got.  She got other gaming items from some of the other guys, some clothes and jewelry from the girls.  He had noticed a couple of things though, first she was surprised when others were giving her stuff and also, she hadn’t passed any gifts out which seemed odd for the holiday.

As the party was winding down, Jamison stood up and looked to his larger partner, whom seemed quite content with the plate of cookies he had in one hand.  “Ey Roadie, let’s get outta here,” he said though the other didn’t seem like he was getting ready to go anywhere yet.  Even though Mako’s eyes were locked on the slender male’s face, Jamison could just feel him look at his arm tucked behind his back, hiding the gift he had been working on.

“What?”  Hana’s voice almost sounded panicked.  “You’re leaving already?!”

Lucio who had been sitting next to her chuckled and said, “What, you sad to see your boyfriend go already?”  The petite girl sent a swift punch to the male’s arm and though it didn’t hurt him, he was sure to at least act as if she had wounded him.  She then scrambled to her feet before stepping over some of the others that were seated on the ground before grabbing Jamison’s free hand and pulling him towards a darker hallway where the rooms were.

“Wait here,” she said letting go of his hand at the opening of the hallway before briefly returning from the darkness of one of the rooms.  There was a neatly wrapped gift in her hand that she offered out to him, with a simple, “Here.”

Her large eyes rolled up to watch him as he took the gift in his free hand.  He went to open it, but he was in a bit of a bind; the gift for Hana.  The confliction crossed across his face for a moment before he held the gift out to her.  Her eyes locked on it for a moment before a smile crossed her features as she asked, “Really?”

A moody Jamison gave a snappy, “If ya want it, take it.”  Though Hana didn’t even need that much before she took the gift.  The male looked down at the gift in his own hands before opening it and the box that shielded the item inside.  When he pulled it out, it was a smooth sphere, a sea-blue color and it seemed to glow and pulse.

“Aie, girl, what you givin’ him that for?!”  An annoyed, dwarven voice erupted from the group.  Tension had clearly gone up when the sphere emerged.  Hana looked more than pleased with herself as she still clutched the wrapped gift in her hands.

“It’s one of my old mech cores.  It will still blow up, just not as delicate as the newer ones,” she said, the tone in her voice clearly proud of her gift.  She then laughed before casting him a challenging look, “So you won’t have as big of an explosion as I do, but you can at least try to enter the running now.”

For the first time that night, Jamison let out a cackle of a laugh as he leaned in closer to the woman.  “Is that a challenge, mate?”

Hana narrowed her eyes before saying, “You better believe it.”  She then dropped her eyes to the gift she held before saying, “Now it’s my turn!”  The gift wasn’t all that big, but it was definitely heavy.  The wrapping was easy to get through and the weight was soon explained; wrapped within the poorly wrapped paper was a bunny, but not any bunny; it was a metal rabbit that had been made of some of the remains of the mech suit that they had worked on together when they first met.

“I LOVE IT!”  She exclaimed before throwing her arms around the hunched over male, nearly sending the blue orb to the ground, which stripped a few years off the lives of everyone else in the room.  Her lips fell against his and he froze for a moment as she pulled away, her face glowing.

“Not that I’m complainin’ but a simple ‘thank ya’ woulda’ worked too,” he said as he wrapped his free arm around her waist.

Hana rolled her eyes as she pointed up to a particular plant hanging above them.  “It’s mistletoe, Angela hung the stuff all over the place for some reason.”  When the group looked at the woman sidled up against Jack, she just seemed to not notice their glances as she smiled at the young couple before them, a pink hue gracing her cheeks as she leaned against the white haired male more.

A devious look came to Jamison’s face as he pulled the other woman closer.  “Well then, we can’t let the poor woman down, now can we,” he whispered teasingly before pressing his lips against hers, not in the chaste way her lips had fallen upon his, no, Jamison’s kiss was far more passionate.  Hana was quick to follow his lead, but of course it was short lasted as a box bounced off the male’s shoulder.

“Break it up you two,” an angry Soldier stood, glaring at the two; he had been opposed to the two new comers tagging along with them the whole time.  Angela placed a hand on his arm and while she wasn’t fond of criminals joining their ranks, she said,

“Relax Jack, it’s only the holidays.”  He looked down to the smaller woman before pointing a finger towards Jamison saying,

“Only the holidays.”  Before sitting with a slight huff as Angela tended to him.

“Sounds like we got permission,” Jamison said kissing Hana on the nose.  She smiled up at him and said,

“Merry Chirstmas Jamison.”  He smiled back at her, resting his forehead on hers,

“Merry Christmas Hana.”

[marcelfaber4]

When is an appropriate time to vacuum an apartment?

Is it ever too early to start vacuuming? Here is all you need to consider before vacuuming your apartment.

When is it too late to vacuum in your apartment? Are there sacred hours during which you should dare not vacuum? When you live with neighbors, it often goes a long way to be considerate. Deciding to crank up your vacuum cleaner at 2am might not be too kind if you know most of them asleep. Some might get really pissed off if they were woken up by your vacuum cleaner.

Knowing the appropriate time to vacuum an apartment can be quite tricky. You have to consider your cleaning schedule as well as those around you. It is usually a dilemma trying to balance that. For example, what if you are off to an early shift and you just have to clean your place before you go. Can you vacuum clean? Waiting until 10am when most of them are awake is impossible but you also do not want to be the annoying neighbor.

First, there is no broad rule as to when one can vacuum an apartment. Maybe there should be, but there isn’t. However, some apartment landlords have gone ahead to set out on the lease when you can do certain things. Therefore, to know when it is appropriate to vacuum; check if there are any clauses about that in your lease.

Apartment Rules

To create some sort of fairness, these apartment complexes have their own noise ordinances. For instance, if your washing machine or vacuum cleaner makes quite a racket, you might not get away with washing all your laundry when everyone is asleep. Most apartments usually forbid against such between 11PM-7AM. For some the curfew might start a bit earlier, others later. It is all in the fine print depending on the apartment’s preferences.

If your contract has such a clause, then you simply have to plan your cleaning routine around it. It might mean a whole load of appliances going on at the same time.

While these set out times might sound like a relief to some, it has its own drawbacks. First, depending on your landlord, you might find your lease that does not coincide with your schedule. The clause on set times to do certain things might just not be manouvreable considering the shifts you work whatnot.

For those with such noise ordinances, you cannot just go on a whim and vacuum whenever you want. You will be forced to vacuum within the specific period stated. If you work the graveyard shift, you might find yourself conflicted on when to vacuum.

Also, the whole point of having your own apartment is so that you can do things your own way. No one wants to be told to do what the time always. Vacuuming for a few minutes does not really hurt either.

If your apartment does not have set rules on when to vacuum, what then is the appropriate time to do so?

Usually, vacuuming anytime between 8AM and 11PM should not cause too much trouble. This largely depends on your neighbors and other general rules in your apartment complex. You should particularly consider the person living underneath you as they are bound to be the most irritated in case of any slip ups.

If you know everyone sleeps in, you might want to hold on vacuuming until about 9AM which is good enough. Other times, you might have a neighbor who gets to bed during the day so that they can work at night. In such cases, you might want to avoid roaring on with your vacuum during those times of the day they are trying to sleep. You can hold off vacuuming during your normal day period if you are certain that someone is resting up for an overnight shift.

If you also know no one is too sensitive about noise, you need not worry too much about when you are vacuuming. Sometimes you might think something is a huge deal when really everyone is just on about their days.

Also, the apartment rules stated above can help you gauge when it is okay to vacuum your apartment. These set times are often chosen after careful consideration of all possible factors. If most noise ordinances cover the period between 8AM and 11PM, you should stick around that to be on the safe side.

While all these factor in, it all raises the question: what then if your shift is way different from everyone else? What if you just have to vacuum at 5 in the morning because of errands you have to run?

First, consider buying a near-silent vacuum cleaner. An example is Grandi Groom AB24 that is not too loud while in use. Also go for a small enough vacuum cleaner that will not cause up a racket so as to give you proper suction power. You can also go a step further and buy a vacuum silencer. It is really important to be considerate to your neighbors.

To add, come up with a cleaning routine. Once your neighbors have understood the flow, you will have less chances of annoying them with your vacuuming. Make sure you take your time cleaning by moving the cleaner across all the rooms carefully. You do not need to rush through your vacuuming only to have to repeat it.

Conclusion

Vacuuming your apartment every so often is highly recommended, especially if you have a carpet. The more you clean and keep your area fresh, the less your chances of having bugs around. Regular vacuuming is also necessary for households with sensitive people to allergens.

Knowing when to vacuum is therefore important. To know when the appropriate time is, check your lease for any set time. If there isn’t any, anywhere between 9AM and 9PM should be good enough. Depending on your neighbors, vacuuming before 11PM and after 8AM should not be an issue either. It is all a gamble really. Just do not go for the odd hours when you know practically everyone is asleep. That might earn you quite the reputation.

  The post When is an appropriate time to vacuum an apartment? appeared first on Relentless Home.

from Relentless Home http://relentlesshome.com/when-is-an-appropriate-time-to-vacuum-an-apartment/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=when-is-an-appropriate-time-to-vacuum-an-apartment via IFTTT from Home Decor Ideas & Products Reviews https://relentlesshome1.tumblr.com/post/190458525534 via IFTTT

[christinafrueh3]

When is an appropriate time to vacuum an apartment?

Is it ever too early to start vacuuming? Here is all you need to consider before vacuuming your apartment.

When is it too late to vacuum in your apartment? Are there sacred hours during which you should dare not vacuum? When you live with neighbors, it often goes a long way to be considerate. Deciding to crank up your vacuum cleaner at 2am might not be too kind if you know most of them asleep. Some might get really pissed off if they were woken up by your vacuum cleaner.

Knowing the appropriate time to vacuum an apartment can be quite tricky. You have to consider your cleaning schedule as well as those around you. It is usually a dilemma trying to balance that. For example, what if you are off to an early shift and you just have to clean your place before you go. Can you vacuum clean? Waiting until 10am when most of them are awake is impossible but you also do not want to be the annoying neighbor.

First, there is no broad rule as to when one can vacuum an apartment. Maybe there should be, but there isn’t. However, some apartment landlords have gone ahead to set out on the lease when you can do certain things. Therefore, to know when it is appropriate to vacuum; check if there are any clauses about that in your lease.

Apartment Rules

To create some sort of fairness, these apartment complexes have their own noise ordinances. For instance, if your washing machine or vacuum cleaner makes quite a racket, you might not get away with washing all your laundry when everyone is asleep. Most apartments usually forbid against such between 11PM-7AM. For some the curfew might start a bit earlier, others later. It is all in the fine print depending on the apartment’s preferences.

If your contract has such a clause, then you simply have to plan your cleaning routine around it. It might mean a whole load of appliances going on at the same time.

While these set out times might sound like a relief to some, it has its own drawbacks. First, depending on your landlord, you might find your lease that does not coincide with your schedule. The clause on set times to do certain things might just not be manouvreable considering the shifts you work whatnot.

For those with such noise ordinances, you cannot just go on a whim and vacuum whenever you want. You will be forced to vacuum within the specific period stated. If you work the graveyard shift, you might find yourself conflicted on when to vacuum.

Also, the whole point of having your own apartment is so that you can do things your own way. No one wants to be told to do what the time always. Vacuuming for a few minutes does not really hurt either.

If your apartment does not have set rules on when to vacuum, what then is the appropriate time to do so?

Usually, vacuuming anytime between 8AM and 11PM should not cause too much trouble. This largely depends on your neighbors and other general rules in your apartment complex. You should particularly consider the person living underneath you as they are bound to be the most irritated in case of any slip ups.

If you know everyone sleeps in, you might want to hold on vacuuming until about 9AM which is good enough. Other times, you might have a neighbor who gets to bed during the day so that they can work at night. In such cases, you might want to avoid roaring on with your vacuum during those times of the day they are trying to sleep. You can hold off vacuuming during your normal day period if you are certain that someone is resting up for an overnight shift.

If you also know no one is too sensitive about noise, you need not worry too much about when you are vacuuming. Sometimes you might think something is a huge deal when really everyone is just on about their days.

Also, the apartment rules stated above can help you gauge when it is okay to vacuum your apartment. These set times are often chosen after careful consideration of all possible factors. If most noise ordinances cover the period between 8AM and 11PM, you should stick around that to be on the safe side.

While all these factor in, it all raises the question: what then if your shift is way different from everyone else? What if you just have to vacuum at 5 in the morning because of errands you have to run?

First, consider buying a near-silent vacuum cleaner. An example is Grandi Groom AB24 that is not too loud while in use. Also go for a small enough vacuum cleaner that will not cause up a racket so as to give you proper suction power. You can also go a step further and buy a vacuum silencer. It is really important to be considerate to your neighbors.

To add, come up with a cleaning routine. Once your neighbors have understood the flow, you will have less chances of annoying them with your vacuuming. Make sure you take your time cleaning by moving the cleaner across all the rooms carefully. You do not need to rush through your vacuuming only to have to repeat it.

Conclusion

Vacuuming your apartment every so often is highly recommended, especially if you have a carpet. The more you clean and keep your area fresh, the less your chances of having bugs around. Regular vacuuming is also necessary for households with sensitive people to allergens.

Knowing when to vacuum is therefore important. To know when the appropriate time is, check your lease for any set time. If there isn’t any, anywhere between 9AM and 9PM should be good enough. Depending on your neighbors, vacuuming before 11PM and after 8AM should not be an issue either. It is all a gamble really. Just do not go for the odd hours when you know practically everyone is asleep. That might earn you quite the reputation.

  The post When is an appropriate time to vacuum an apartment? appeared first on Relentless Home.

via Relentless Home http://relentlesshome.com/when-is-an-appropriate-time-to-vacuum-an-apartment/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=when-is-an-appropriate-time-to-vacuum-an-apartment

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