#she sent her dogs launching

[fruitless-vain]

I thought we were rid of my nemesis but alas

Here they are

[wileys-russo]

mrs williamson II l.williamson x reader

leah williamson supremecy always, all day every day

mrs williamson II l.williamson x reader

"-and now it's charlies turn for show and tell!" you clapped your hands together to gain your students attention, their chatter slowly ceasing as you sent them an appreciative smile for their quick listening.

a knock on the door however had their heads turning and your eyebrows raising in surprise as your wife stood there with a sheepish smile, clad in her training tracksuit with her hands shoved in her pockets.

"okay 4D, everyone turn our listening ears on nice and loud for charlie and i'll be right back! take it away my friend." you gave the boy an encouraging grin as he launched into an animated recount of how he had broken his arm over the weekend, waving his bright blue cast around as he did.

"hi?" you stepped outside of the classroom, sending the blonde a surprised smile. "hi gorgeous, sorry for the interruption i tried to just leave it with reception but they said to come find you here." leah smiled apologetically, the two of you pulling one another into a quick hug as she sweetly kissed your cheek.

"you left your house keys and i've got late training, double session. figured you'd want to be able to get back inside tonight!" the girl grinned as she pulled away and you sighed appreciatively, pecking her lips as she dropped the keys into your hand.

"miss just got a kiss! miss just got a kiss!" your head snapped sideways meeting the cheeky grin of several bored eight year olds gathered in the door frame. at your warning look they all scattered, hurrying back to their seats as leah chuckled.

"i see the stern teacher look works on other people than just your sister then?" leah grinned in amusement, referring to her teammate alessia who was your younger sister and the reason the two of you had even crossed paths years ago in the first place.

"hey you've got an arsenal hoodie on! do you like football? miss williamson can she please come in and talk about football?" a different students head popped around the door frame, shooting both you and your wife his best puppy dog eyes.

you glanced to leah who gave you a small shrug, murmuring she didn't have training for another hour. "i guess it's my turn for show and tell then!" you chuckled, grabbing leahs hand and leading her inside, twenty sets of eager eyes following your every move.

"alright boys and girls! listening ears on again please. this is leah, she's a professional footballer and as russel pointed out she plays for arsenal." you introduced your wife who leant against your desk, folding her arms over her chest and sending your students a warm smile and a wave.

"miss that's not just a footballer that's leah williamson, she's the england captain and my sister loves her! she has her shirt too." william, another student, piped up enthusiastically from the back as the room.

"miss williamson if you and leah have the same last name, are you sisters?" one of the girls asked curiously and leah hid a laugh behind a fake cough as you sent her a firm warning.

"no julie, leah is my wife. i took her last name when we got married!" you explained patiently, your students all ohhing in response and their was a brief pause of silence before the room absolutely erupted into chatter, the kids all shooting question after question at your wife.

"okay 4D we do not yell over the top of one another! we use our manners and we wait our turn and display our..." you trailed off expectantly, nodding your head suggestively to this weeks words written on the board behind you.

"patience!" your students echoed back causing a bright smile of pride to tug at your lips, leah noticing as her heart melted, always having had the largest soft spot for the obvious passion you had for teaching and your students.

"okay who has a question for leah? hands up, she'll call on you one by one." you instructed as at least half the room raised their hands eagerly, wiggling impatiently in their chairs as leah chuckled and began to point them out.

"leah do you love miss williamson?" "most of the time." leah smiled cheekily in response causing a few giggles to break out from the kids surrounding her.

"leah does miss williamson snore?" "oh yes, she sounds like a truck!" leah answered, mocking the noise as your cheeks flushed bright red and even more giggles met leahs ears, causing her grin to grow.

"leah what's your favourite thing about football?" "oh thats a hard one! but i think playing in a team and having lots of really supportive people around you on the pitch, the girls i play with at england and at arsenal are some of my very best friends." leah answered sincerely as you nudged your shoulder into hers with a soft smile.

a half hour later and you had to interrupt the game of two touch leah had got going on with your students using a crumpled up piece of paper, quietly reminding her that she had training and clapping out a pattern to gain the attention of the room, your kids clapping it back and settling somewhat.

"leah has to go to training now! but can we all please give her a big cheer and a thank you for spending her time speaking with us today?" you called out as your students echoed an enthusiastic thank you, a few of them rushing in to hug leah who tensed in surprise before her face softened and she ruffled their hair and pat at their backs before they went racing back to their desks at your request.

"everyone grab out your books please! quiet reading time until the lunch bell goes, i'll be right outside so i will hear if anyones chitter chattering, remember my listening ears are always on!" you warned tugging at your ears as leah smiled softly and your students giggled but did as you asked.

"thank you lee, they loved that." you stepped outside and walked leah a few feet away with a smile, wrapping your arms around her neck as hers snaked around your waist, the blonde pressing a tender kiss into your hair.

"i loved that. would you maybe want me to come back with some of the girls? run a little friendly game and do some easy drills?" your wife offered as you made a face of surprise.

"if you have time? they would actually go mental if you could." you agreed eagerly, your wife reassuring she was sure it would be fine but she would check with jonas this afternoon.

"maybe on a friday afternoon, i know you said they go stir crazy so close to the weekend." leah chuckled and you sighed, nodding in agreement at how hard fridays were to keep them all engaged.

"that would actually be perfect. but you better go baby, you'll be late and i don't fancy hearing you moan about all the extra laps you'll have to run if you are!" you teased, your blonde rolling her eyes and pinching playfully at your side for the comment, pecking your lips a few times.

"miss got another kiss! miss got another kiss!" "4D i told you my listening ears are on!"

~

"i'm home!" you heard the front door open and your wife call our tiredly, hearing her kit bag thump to the floor as her sliders squeaked across the floor, the girl making a brief stop in the kitchen to chug a glass of water.

"in here love!" you called back, curled up on the lounge with your laptop on your knees, lesson planning for the week ahead. "hello gorgeous." your wife sighed and you were quick to move your laptop to the side as leah collapsed tiredly on top of you.

"tough session?" you hummed, running your hands through her hair as she nodded, face pressed into your stomach. "my arms feel like they're going to fall off, my legs are like jelly, can we just sleep here on the lounge?" leah mumbled into your top as you let out a beat of laughter and she moved so her chin rested on your chest, looking up at you with a tired but loving smile.

"i think i have something to lift your spirits baby." you gently tapped at her to signal you were going to get up, the blonde rolling off of you as you stood, rummaging through your work bag.

"you made quite the impression!" you smiled softly, handing leah a stack of papers as your wife pulled herself into a sitting position and began to rifle through them, her face softening significantly as she did.

"they did these for me?" leah asked quietly, eyes scanning the brightly coloured drawings with a tender gaze and you hummed your confirmation, sitting back down beside her and stretching your legs across her lap.

"i was ordered they were to go straight to you from my bag as soon as i next saw you or else i would be in some serious trouble with the artists." you teased, leah flicking through them again with a beaming grin.

"thank you, that's made my day." leah grinned, carefully placing the stack of papers down on the coffee table and pawing at your hoodie, needily pulling your body properly on top of hers and burying her face in your neck.

"i love you, mrs williamson."

~

"okay my friends listening ears on please! settle down, settle down." you clapped and called out over the incredibly restless group of children who were bouncing from foot to foot, whispering excitedly to one another as the looked toward the small huddle of women stood behind you.

"now i know we are all very excited, but i need some calm and some quiet so we can meet our new friends!" you stood back a little and gestured for them to step forward, everyone gathered on the oval for the final hour left of the school day.

"now this is alessia, steph, caitlin, katie, lotte and we all already know leah." you introduced as each girl gave a wave and a grin to the group of children stood in front of them. "your wife!" one of the boys piped up with a cheeky grin and a giggle as you sighed but nodded, rewarded with a chorus of fake kissing noises.

"okay enough of that or we'll go back inside and do our timetables!" you warned as a hush instantly fell, smiling happily and stepping aside for leah to take the reigns.

"you look like miss williamson!" one of the girls pointed to alessia with a frown as your sister smiled. "that's because she's my little sister" you explained, again a round of ohh's coming from your students in response.

"her big little sister!" alessia smirked, the much taller girl patting your head mockingly causing the children to giggle, leah stepping in and beginning to speak.

"the bossiness isn't just reserved for your friends and family? those poor children." alessia tutted from beside you as leah explained the first training drill your class was going to do, using katie and lotte for a demonstration.

"alessia if you so much as utter one word that i find inappropriate or teach them anything they don't need to know about me, i promise on nonna i will tell gio exactly how his pool table got broken." you murmured quietly to the blonde stood beside you who shot you a filthy look at the threat but remained quiet, bumping her shoulder into you and walking off after lotte with her assigned group.

"leave her alone!" leah chuckled pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as you rolled your eyes. "you always take her side, you're supposed to be my wife! i am sick and tired of the two of you teaming up against me." you huffed with a shake of your head.

"i am technically her sister in law, i'm just being supportive!" leah teased, grabbing at your waist and stealing a kiss when no one was looking, whispering for you to stop being grumpy before jogging off to help katie.

despite that the afternoon went off without any real issues, your students as expected absolutely adoring the girls and an afternoon full of physical exercise and sunshine.

"miss williamson its your turn now!" one of the boys kicked the ball at you, all of them taking turns to shoot at goal as you shook your head. "this is meant to be fun for all of you not for me!" you kicked the ball back as your students all began to protest your decision.

"she's just scared she'll miss!" alessia teased from where she stood in goal beside lotte, cocking an eyebrow at you challengingly, leahs hand coming to rest on the small of your back from where she stood watching on beside you.

"you won't miss, we believe in you!" one of the girls shouted, half of your students all cheering you on as the others took your sisters side, joining in as she boo'd you.

"i think you have to now babe, you've riled them up again." leah chuckled quietly, rubbing your back comfortingly as you sighed, stepping forward toward the goal as the cheers got louder and lotte swiftly stepped out of goal, mumbling a good luck to her blonde best friend.

"come on, surely you've grown out of your two left feet by now!" your sister mocked, you having had the pleasure of growing up relentlessly teased by both her and your older brothers for your astounding lack of athletic ability.

"go on williamson, show her what you're made of!" katie encouraged with a grin, squatted down amongst the kids and starting a clap and chant of your name.

only spurred on further by the confident smile on alessia's smug face, countless memories of having footballs kicked at your head and being forced to stand in goal by your brothers, you placed down the ball and took a step back.

taking a step forward you connected with the ball as it sky rocketed and headed right for alessia's face, your sisters expression paling as she ducked and there was a swish as the ball smacked against the back of the net.

your students all screamed in delight right as the bell rang, and you yelled out over the top of them a big thank you for being so well behaved, wishing them all a safe and happy weekend.

you helped your wife to pack up the goals as half your students all raced off, eager to start their weekend whilst others hung around chatting to the girls. "i'd be watching your back if i was you love." leah grinned, nodding to a very unimpressed look plastered on your younger sisters face as she shot you a dirty glare.

"i know about far too many things she did behind our parents back for her to do anything, she's all bark and no bite." you chuckled, grabbing the cones and leading leah over to the sports shed where everything was stored.

you were caught off guard as your wife closed the door and promptly pressed you against it, wasting no time connecting her lips to yours, not having a chance to show you much affection all afternoon.

"you know i might have paid attention in school if teachers looked like you my girl." the blonde rasped into your ear with a cheeky grin, peppering butterly kisses down your jaw as you smacked at her shoulder.

"i didn't know you had a teacher and student fantasy darling?" you teased, your wife rolling her eyes and nipping at your neck as you warned her firmly about leaving marks, reminding you were still in your workplace.

"i married you for your mind and not just your stunning good looks, obviously." leah tutted, grinning as she sweetly pecked your lips a few times and pushed off of you, moving to open the door but frowning as it didn't budge. "it's old, it gets stuck sometimes!" you rolled your eyes, but frowning as you tried but also couldn't budge it.

though as you glanced out the window and locked eyes with a familiar mop of blonde hair and a smirk, your eyes narrowed. "open it! right now alessia." you ordered firmly, yelling so she could hear you as your sister only cupped a hand to her ear with a confused frown, mocking that she couldn't hear you as katie doubled over with laughter, stood beside her.

"russo." leah intervened, pushing you lightly out of the way as you opened your mouth to let your sister have it, your wife sending the younger girl a stern look who huffed, rolling her eyes and disappearing, the sound of movement indicating she'd removed whatever was blocking the door.

"you know in any other circumstances i'd have taken full advantage of being locked in a room with you mrs williamson." leah husked out in your ear, hands teasingly roaming your body beneath your polo as her lips pressed a tender kiss behind your ear.

"if you're trying to distract me from murdering alessia, it's not working." you huffed, your wife tugging you away from the door and once more holding you against it, pressing her lips to yours in a bruising kiss, removing the air from your lungs.

"better?" leah pulled away with a smug smile, pressing one more kiss to your lips as you nodded a little dazed and leah opened the door.

"alessia you better start running!"

leah rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest, stepping out of the sports shed and standing beside steph and katie with a shake of her head, watching as you chased after your sister.

that was her girl, and she loved you endlessly for it.

[bellarkeselection]

Halstead’s Favorite Duo

Anonymous request - Can you do a Jay Halstead x reader, where they are married and she is part of the K-9 unit? Maybe they called her in or something to help chase down a suspect.

My boots hit the ground as fast as I could to keep up with my first best friend for I wish I could say my whole life. Yet I have only known this dog since I joined the K-9 unit that works with the Chicago Police Department. My German shepherd dog ran forward on the heels of the man that was running from us. The man we were after was a drug cartel that they had been hunting for months. “Ryder! Attack.” I commanded him before he launched himself through the glass store window.

The guy we were chasing tried to run to the back of the store but he tripped over a shopping cart giving Ryder the opportunity to tackle him to the ground. Stepping over the broken window glass I draw my gun from my belt pointing it at the guy. “Y/n, Ryder! Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine, Jay. Ryder ain’t too bad at his job. Ryder, come here.” I smiled seeing my husband coming around the corner lowering his gun when he saw the situation.

Ryder snarled at the guy on the ground keeping his tail still when we were out in the field. Otherwise he would let it actually wag when he was happy. Jay bent down on a knee after putting his gun away, grabbing the guy off the floor and handcuffing him. “You’re under arrest for smuggling drugs across the border. Take him back to the station.” He handed him off to one of the other local officers.

“You did good, boy.” Dropping down on a knee in front of my dog he started moving his tail wagging it since it was just me and Jay alone with him. “So how much paperwork does this leave you with tonight. I can order take out if you want if you’ll be home later.”

He shakes his head walking back to one of the squad cars having me and Ryder following his heels like we did every morning when we all had to leave the apartment. “Hailey said she would take care of it. I actually had something else in mind.”

“Oh really. Care to share what you had in mind?” I smirked knowing that he wouldn’t give it up even if I asked the question but I did it anyway.

Jay sent me a glare. “It didn’t work on our first date and it still won’t work now.” I nudged him and he chuckled before Ryder barked signaling that he wanted into our conversation.

“That means he doesn’t want to be left out of whatever mystery thing you have planned. And you agreed to take me in every way that includes my doggy.” I responded to him.

Jay and I had gotten married a few years ago. I had just been promoted to chief of my unit. Vioet was the man to help me get it after he had seen my history with Ryder and the amount of cases we helped crack down compared to the other k-9 unit members. Jay opened the door letting my dog jump into the backseat shutting the door once he was in. We both got in the car and removed our bullet proof vests and he started the drive looking my way a few times. “Do you remember the day we met?”

“Of course I do. I got injured on an assignment and the doctors at the hospital your brother Will works at wouldn’t let Ryder inside my room. So he started losing it and breaking things. If it wasn’t for you I was sure Ryder would have bit Will’s leg.” I snorted running a hand down my face thinking back on that night.

Jay smiled, shaking his head. “Yeah but he and I have the same goal to protect you…and love you.”

“So where are we going exactly? I mean it’s kind of strange that you are asking about the day we met. We’re already married. What else could we possibly do?” I shifted in my seat bouncing up and down with the tension of waiting.

Jay didn’t stop the car for another few minutes, parking the car outside of a house that was painted a light blue on the outside and it had a gray roof. He let Ryder out of the backseat first before coming over to my side and helping me out. “The surprise is that this place is now ours.”

“Are you serious, Jay!” I gasped covering my mouth with my hands spinning around to face him since he was standing behind me.

He slipped the keys in my hands. “It’s our. I am not lying to you. I got it all set up a few weeks ago. That way we aren’t cramped in an apartment and this gives Ryder a space to run when he wants to.”

“I love you.” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him slowly.

Ryder barks running towards the front door just as Jay wraps his arms around my waist tugging me closer to deepen the kiss until he breaks it not being able to hold in his chuckle. “I love you too…and Ryder seems to approve.”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[therealplaguedoctor]

Love at first bite

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Summary- Y/n is a professional protection dog trainer, and an ex bodyguard. What happens when an old friend of hers calls in a favor: getting his friend some protection. The fans seem to love her, others not so much. Especially not her clients father. Her client enjoys her company maybe a little more then he thought after the first bite.

TLDR- a collection of series of events that ends with two people who didn't really know they were in love with each other until one confessed

Warnings- dogs and dog bites, mentions of aggressive fans, cursing, google translated dutch, Jos Verstappen, stupid warnings: author is a dumbass and pretends she knows shit(she doesnt), American spelling, I never spell check, also y/n is very badass and is kinds just built different, sorry I like writing badass characters/people, also this might be a bit ooc I'm sorry for that :/

A/n- AHHH okay so I kinda hate (hate as in thinking I could do better) and love this(?) I wish it was better written ngl but it is a oneshot so I wasn't able to go into more detail so I feel like the writing is a bit rushed sorry about that I promise I will get better in the future :,)

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BREAKING NEWS: Fomula one driver Mav Verstappen got injured after crazy drunk fan attacked him.

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BREAKING NEWS: Max Verstappen revealed that he is looking into more security in an interview

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"We're sure you've seen the questions around what happened immediately after qualifying. Can you add anything to that situation? Like with your current security?"

Max picked up the mic wanting to be anywhere but here "well I will be looking for personal security. As all the security that is normally seen around me is provided via the FIA." He said "But to speak on that manner any behavior like that should not be tolerated" he put down the mic as the interview turned to ask Lewis a question.

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After the interviews were over Max just wanted to relax and forget about the crazed fan. But before he could disappear into redbull hospitality he heard his name from a familiar voice.

"Max!" Lewis called stopping in front of him "Hey mate I think I know someone that I can call to help you with your security" he smiled

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"Stellen" (bite) you yelled at Goose, which sent him barreling towards the man with the bite sleeve. Goose launched himself up and bit down on the sleeve. The man, Tony, aggressive, shook his arm.

You felt you phone in your pocket buzz with your familiar ring tone. You pulled it out and looked at the caller ID: Sir Lewis Hamilton. You answered the call before yelling "Loslaten" (out) to Goose who immediately let go of his arm.

"Hey Lewis what's up?" You asked as you waved off Tony telling him he's good to leave.

"Hey Y/n" he said dragging out your name a little

"Lewis" you said in a warning tone "what did you do?"

"Okay one rude, I didn't do anything." He huffed "but I do need a favor?" He asked

"What's up?" You asked again "it's not like you to ask for favors"

"Well: my friend, another driver, he had a fan attack him and he needs protection cause he doesn't really have a security team"

"Lewis I can't get him a trained dog in a day" you sighed

"I know" he said "but you're still a certified body guard aren't you?" He asked hopefully

"Lewis." You said

"I know it's a big ask" he said "but I was talking with him earlier and he's willing to pay big bucks for you to be protection for him AND train him a dog." He said

You sighed knowing that he'll continue until you say yes "fine" you said "when can I set up a meeting with him?"

"Uhh I can say next week tuesday? We can do whatever time" He said "cause after this race we have a small break then it's actually race week in Miami"

"Okay Lewis, I'll find a dog for him before then, and start training" you said "if you say he's serious about this then I'll belive you"

"Thank you so much" Lewis said "I'll let him know"

"Yeah yeah, bye Lewis"

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You sat in your small office. You didn't use it much only for meeting with clients about protection dogs or getting their dogs trained, you wanted to have a atleast semi professional space due to your clientele.

A knock at the door cause you it sit up and stop spinning in your chair.

"Come in" you called.

The door slowly opened revealing a happy Lewis. Goose didn't move from his bed next to you instead looking up at the man.

"Hey Lewis" you smiled

"What's up?" He asked rhetorically as he sat in one of the chairs across from you.

Another man walked in behind him, he looked around the room as if taking it in, this must be Max the guy Lewis was telling you about.

"Hello its nice to meet you" you smiled as you stood up and extended you hand "my name is Y/n L/n"

He shook your hand "Max Verstappen" he said before sitting down

You did the same sitting in your chair "so I have been made aware that you're looking for a personal protection dog" you said "along with the fact in the mean time you're looking to hire my bodyguard services" you said as you pull up the contract you had drafted earlier on the computer.

"Uh yes that's right" the Dutch man said

"Okay" you said as you quickly checked over the document spinning your screen around so he can read it-

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After discussing the contract along with pay you both sign it. Solidifying the deal.

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"Okay so now that we have that settled" you said as you stood up "we should have you meet your new dog" you smiled "Hier" (come) Goose got up and followed you out if the room the two men behind him.

You took out the keys and unlocked the kennel for a German shepherd pup "he's still a bit young, just under a year actually" you said "but he has the basics down so it's now just bite training" you explained

Both men nodded as they watched the pup and your dog Goose interact.

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Media day, the day Max wished didn't exist. He finally got out of his car as you approached him with Goose to your immediate left.

"Good morning" you smiled "large crowd at the gates, mostly photographers only a few fans, I recommend staying on the right side as you walk into the paddock" I explained "it's mostly photographers on that side and no interviewers"

Max nodded as you talked he followed your instructions. You put on your sunglasses to block the flash of the cameras.

Max made it past the hectic paddock entrance with you right behind him Goose walking by your side.

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As Max walked through the paddock he wasn't approached by any interviewers. He could get used to that.

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Max sat down ready to record some content for the redbulls media team. You positioned yourself out of the way but with a good view of everything as well as all the entrances.

Daniel soon arrived and noticed you almost immediately sitting down he leaned over to Max and asked "who's that? With the dog?"

"Oh that's, Y/n" Max explained "She's my new bodyguard"

"She looks badass" Yuki comments scaring the shit out of both Daniel and Max "where the fuck did you come from?!" Max shouts

You quickly looked over and watched the interaction, Yuki had been up there the entire time.

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As the recording came to an end you stood from where you were leaning. Watching Checo leave, followed quickly by Daniel and Yuki who look like they needed to be somewhere. Max started towards the exit you quickly followed him.

Begrudgingly Max sat down in front of a mic that had a big 'sky sport' on it. You stood just off to the side of the camera, completely out of frame and able to watch to one side of Max as you had Goose watching behind yourself.

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As Max answered the repeat questions he finally heard the one he's been dreading:

"So Max this morning you walked in with a lady who had a dog. Care to comment about that relationship?" The interviewer asked.

"She's my bodyguard" he stated

"She's your bodyguard..?" The guy asked like he didn't just hear him

"Yes."

"If you don't mind me asking why her?"

"She was recommended by a friend." Max said nonchalantly

"Sorry let me clarify my question" the guy said. Oh no, you knew where this was going. "Why not a male body guard they're stronger no?" He asked

"Are you insinuating that just because she's a women she wouldn't be a good bodyguard?" Max asked

"Well no-"

"No it's exactly what you're doing" he said "you media people always ask the stupid questions" he hissed "that is so fu-"

He was cut off by you "Max de camera staat nog aan" Max the camera is still on.

Instead of continuing he just gets up and leaves, cutting the interview short. You follow quickly, commanding Goose to walk next to Max as you figured Max didn't want to be approached by anyone. Scary dog privileges are the best.

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He opens the door to his driver room.

"Hier, blijf" (come, stay) you quickly rattled off to Goose who quickly went to your side and stopped next to you

Max also stopped in his tracks.

"Sorry" you quickly apologized "he's trained in dutch"

Max shook his head "no need to apologize" he said and then motioned you inside "but I don't want him out in this heat please come inside" he said

You weren't gonna argue with your boss "Volg" (heel) you commanded Goose as you walked into his driver room. Max walked in right behind you.

You stood off to the side as Max sat on the couch. He quickly motioned for you to sit down. You did just that.

Goose sat at your feet between you and Max. Max was obviously still pissed at what the guy said, you could see it on his face.

"You know" Max started "I've never been a dog person" he said "I like cats more"

"Huh," you said "I've always been a dog person" you said "started with the herding dog on my family's farm"

Max nodded as you talked before asking "can I pet him?" motioning to Goose

"Oh yeah of course" you smiled "as long as we aren't in a camera shot give him all the love you want" you chuckled "gotta keep his image up of a cold blooded killer, until the media finds my insta" you chuckled.

Max smiled as he ruffled Gooses head earning a lick from the dog.

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BREAKING NEWS: Max's new bodyguard, Y/n L/n has a trained protection dog named 'Goose'. Click here to read more!

One image attached!

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You and Max finally left his driver room as he had another media appearance with another interviewer.

Max walked in front of you Goose to his left. You grabbed the door opened it for him. You followed him inside "volg" (heel left), you told Goose who then fell in step beside you to your left.

You followed Max till he sat on the couch opposite of the interviewer. Instead you stood against the wall out of view of the camera.

"Okay" the interviewer said giving the signal to start rolling "so before we start with the questions: would you want to have your bodyguard sit down?" She asked, she sounded genuine

Max then turned to you "wil je gaan zitten? ze kunnen je vragen stellen..." (do you want to sit down? they might ask you questions...)

You responded "Ik vind het niet erg om vragen te beantwoorden. Wil je dat ik ga zitten?" (I don't mind answering questions, do you want me to sit?)

"Ik vind het prima als jij dat ook bent" (I am okay with it if you are) Max said

You gave a quick nod before walking over and sitting on the couch, next to Max. Turning to Goose you said "Bewaken" (guard), causing him to lay down in front of Max.

Turning to the camera the interviewer started "Hello everyone it's Stella here!" She smiled "and I am joined today by Max Verstappen and his bodyguard..."

"Y/n" you said "and Goose" motioning to your dog.

She smiled "and today we are asking the new, the old, and the frequently asked questions." She turned to Max "okay to start off, Max we'll start with frequently asked questions: do you think you'll win the 2024 world championship?" She asked already knowing the answer.

"Of course I will" Max said "if I don't have that mindset then I have no chance"

"Moving onto the old news: China after quali" she said "most fans just do wanna know what happened and are you okay"

"Well obviously I'm okay," he said "but the fan was drunk and belligerent after I was able to take the win," he said "knowing that he was outside of the paddock I shouldn't have left but I'm lucky at the security near the entrance was able to quickly get him away" he said "he surprised me honestly" he shrugged

"Okay now onto the new: your bodyguard Y/n" she said "everyone wants to know more about her" so that's why she wanted to have you on the couch.

Max quickly turned to you "Vind je het goed om te antwoorden?" (You good to answer)

You nodded grabbing the mic he held out: "it's a bit of a story but: I was actually the dog trainer for Roscoe, Lewis Hamiltons dog," you said "I'm a well known dog trainer in Miami I have trained several dogs for a lot of celebrities. Some for protection others just to have a trained dog" you said "but anyways Lewis called me I think the day of the incident" you thought "and we talked for a second and he asked if I still had my bodyguard certification" you said "which is really just a formality but for my job before I started training dogs I was security for a large club in Miami and we needed it" you explained "so after a meeting with Max we signed a contract that is basically me being his bodyguard with Goose until I have trained a dog for him" you finished, handing the mic back to Max.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

The drive to his hotel was relatively quiet besides the soft hum of the radio.

"When we arrive at the hotel do not get out" you said "keep the door locked till I have my hand on the handle" you explained "people are crazy here especially where your hotel is located"

Max nodded as you pulled the car up

You quickly got out shutting the door opening the door for Goose then opening the door for Max. People were everywhere, people shouting, some where drunk others just crazy. You quickly led Max to the entrance of the hotel and bid him a goodbye.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Friday and Saturday were uneventful. But Sunday was race day, the day the MOST amount of people all week.

Walking next to Max, "rechts" (heel right), Goose moved to the right side of Max you walked on his left side. You were able to easily enter the paddock.

Finally its race time you placed the dog ear muffs over Goose to protect his ears. The had just finished the formation lap. The lights turn red one by one, then all go out hearing the infamous "lights out and away we go"

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Lando Norris had won the Miami grand prix. His first win. Max was really happy for him. Wanting to go out to celebrate but not wanting to get attacked he turned to you:

"Y/n do you mind coming out tonight?" He asked "I don't want to miss Landos first win celebration, but I you know need protection" he joked

"Sure I'll baby sit you" you joked back. Little did you know that was basically what you ended up doing.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

As it was Landos first win they were going hard. You stood off to the side watching them all carefully making sure nothing happened to Max specifically. They decided to leave this bar going to the next. You follow them out walking just behind the group.

"Verstappen!" A drunken voice called, "why the fuck did you let that fuck boy win" the man slurred

Stepping between the two quickly "step back" you said firmly to the drunken man.

"What are you gonna do about it?" The man slurred

"Blaffen" (speak) you called, causing Goose to start barking aggressively grabbing his collar as he started going manic as he barked.

The man quickly backed away before almost bolting down the street you shook your head "foei" (no), Goose immediately stopped "Bewaken" (guard) he stood next to Max ready to start walking again

"We're good" you said to him and the group

─⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Luckily nothing else happens that night. But not as lucky Max was beyond wasted. You were able to get him into the car and buckled him up shutting the door. You open the back door for Goose having him jump in. You got in and started driving realizing that you only knew where his hotel is and not his room you decide to drive to your house.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Getting him into your house was an adventure. He was basically a dead weight, after an insane amount of effort you got him onto the couch in your living room and threw a blanket on top of him. Placing some advil and water on the coffee table next to him.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

As the job progressed and Max's new dog got trained many races were uneventful. The media attention on both of you had died down to what it was before Max got attacked. You are featured in some clips and interviews just answering the odd question or pulling Max away to get him out of range of anything dangerous. That is your job anyways.

The only big changes was social media: you stopped posting after getting a substantial amount of followers. People still comment on your old posts asking when your next post is. And the edits.. People are making edits of you and Goose being badass and it honestly makes you happy seeing all those cool edits. You'd take it to your grave but you love watching them in you bed late at night when you can't sleep.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

It was the Austrian grad prix. Lando and Max had gotten into it on the track causing Lando to get a dnf, and Max to drop to 5th place. He stormed off disappearing before you could catch up to him.

You eventually find him sitting in one of the chairs looking at the ground, with his helmet still on. As a man you don't recognize yells at him.

"Hey!" You shout storming over "back away from him"

The man with anger in his eyes glanced at you but went back to yelling at Max. Ypu quickly said "Blaffen" (speak) to Goose, he started barking at the man

"Get back" you commanded again

Finally he looked at you "Do you know who I am?" He asked all proud

"I don't fucking care who you are" you snapped "step away from my client" you said firmly

He turned back to Max and began yelling in Dutch to fast and angry for you to make it out. You were about to intervene again until the man raised his hand as if to strike Max

"Stellen, stellen" (bite, bite) you quickly commanded Goose letting go of his collar. The dog jumped up and bit the raised arm the force sending the man to the ground.

As this is happening Max watched it, he looked up just as you called for Goose to bite his father.

You followed your dog holding the man to the ground before commanding "Loslaten" (let go) Goose dropped the now bleeding arm. "Bewaken" (Guard), Goose stood in front of Max now defensively.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Security arrived with medical and as they treated the dog bite you explained to them what happened pointing the the cameras around as well as a fan that recorded the entire interaction on his phone.

After a bit of talking and reviewing security bid you a goodbye and left. Citing that you were doing you job.

You then sat down next to Max who still hadn't taken off his helmet. "Who was that anyways?" You asked him as you quickly cleaned the blood off of Goose.

"My dad" he said muffled from the helmet

"Oh" you responded

"Yeah" Max said

The air filled with awkward silence before you said "let's get you back to the drivers room to cool down you still have interviews" Max just nodded making his way to his drivers room. You follow him inside Goose quickly settled by the door as you went to Max who sat on the couch with his helmet still on.

Reaching over you unclipped it and took it off, placing it on the table. Max took off his balaclava throwing it next to the mask.

"Sorry" you said "about your dad"

"I- no- uh" he groaned frustrated "You're fine you were just doing your job" he said a little snippy. He didn't want it to come out like that but it did.

You just nodded as he talked listening before saying "okay we gotta have you head to the media pen before someone yells at us and you get a fine" you said standing up

Max just nodded and followed you out if the drivers room.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Media was done and all Max wanted to do was go back to the hotel. You don't blame him you'd want that too.

After the media pen Max was almost a shell of himself. So just to make sure he's okay you walked inside the hotel and got him to his room, you also needed to talk about earlier. When he opened the door to his hotel room and motioned you inside you were quick to oblige.

The room was nice it was similar to one of those one bedroom apartments just minus a kitchen.

Max settled down on the small couch letting out a sigh.

You just stood a bit awkwardly as Goose sat down next to Max's feet earning a few pets from the Dutch man.

"We gotta talk about today" you said breaking the silence

Max groaned "Do we have to...?" He asked

"I mean yeah" you said "Goose bit your father" you said "I'm sorry I didn't-" before you could continue he interrupted you

"You were doing your job" he said "you had no clue what he could have done or actually what he was going to do" Mac explained "you did what you thought was best to protect me. Which is your job" he leaned back on the couch and then muttered to Goose "thank you"

You ran through the situation in your head again. Jos, which you learned was the man's name, was actually going to hit Max.

"He was actually going to hit you wasn't he?" You asked him

Max stayed silent that's all the answer you needed

"Well now I wish I didn't tell Goose to let go"

Max cracked a smile, "thank you" he said this time looking up at you.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Both you and Max were in his driver room. It was media day for the British Grand Prix, but Max had been waiting to hear back about his next interview as the time.kept changing. You thought that they just wanted to keep him here as long as possible.

Max was watching the small TV as he sat next to you on the couch. You were on your phone just scrolling through some random social media apps. Goose was laying down by the door.

While both of yall were waiting Max fell asleep next to you. Because of the way he was sitting when he fell asleep he was leaning against your shoulder. Eventually you fell asleep too.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Later you slowly wake up but are held in place by some strong arms. You blink awake adjusting to the light. You laid on your side on the couch and where held in place by a sleeping Max. You tried to move to get up but were just pulled right back down. Giving up rather quickly you went back to sleep.

Max gently shook you awake. "Hey Y/n" he said softly, "we should head back to the hotel" he was blushing but it was kinda hard to tell in the lighting

You just nodded as I slowly got up and stretched quickly gathered you items.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

BREAKING NEWS: Max and Y/n seen leaving the drivers room late at night. What does this say about their relationship: Professional? Friendly? Or is there more?

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

"Mate you're all over the news" Lewis said to you on the phone as you got ready

"What do you mean?" You asked as you got ready

"You and Max were spotted leaving his drivers room late last night, together." Lewis explained

"Fuck."

"Yeah" he said "I'm at the track already and people are asking me about it"

"What have you been saying?" You asked leaving the hotel room Goose at your side

"I've been saying: I don't know the relationship, and that uh you're his bodyguard so whatever he was doing in the room you have to be there cause when he leaves you have to make sure nothing happens and shit"

You sighed "thank you Lewis" you said as you opened the car door for Goose and shut it before getting in yourself, and starting the car.

"It's no problem" the brit said "but are you two...you know..?"

"God Lewis!" You said "no we're no fuck buddies"

He just laughed "come on you knew I had to ask"

"I'm hanging up now" you said ending the call.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

After collecting Max from his hotel and you started driving.

"You seen the news?" You asked

"I have yes" an uncomfortable silence filled the car before you spoke

"Lewis said that he's been telling media that cause I'm your bodyguard I have to be with you basically 24/7 so we can just stick with that" you said "I mean it is the truth"

"Yeah" he nodded quickly, he didn't know that you knew he was cozying up to you on that small uncomfortable couch.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Media was lovely that day and respected both of you- said no one ever.

Several times you had to yell at people to back up or even push a few people away. And media was eating it up:

BREAKING NEW: Y/n L/n 'defends' Max Verstappen from media is it more than just bodyguarding?

BREAKING NEWS: Y/n L/n pushes away journalists, bodyguard or overprotective girlfriend?

BREAKING NEWS: Y/n L/n thought to be more than just a bodyguard, is Max taking the 'body' out of bodyguard?

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

The last title made you gag how does that get approved? It doesn't actually bother you to much but it's gross.

You sat on that uncomfortable couch reading the news, almost every single station had something about you two leaving the drivers room late, or about you pushing away journalists.

You let out an annoyed huff tossing your phone on the small coffee table. Max leaned over a bit to look at it.

"Why are you looking at that shit?" He asked

You just shrugged

The last articles name caught his eye he double checked "what the actual fuck" he hissed "this is bullshit, why the fuck would the title an article this" he was pissed. You don't know entirely why they weren't saying anything about him.

"I don't know" you just shrugged

"You aren't mad at this?" He asked before continuing "It doesnt matter, I'm going to go punch the fucker who wrote the article" not wanting him in any legal trouble, mostly cause you knew he would punch the guy, you stood up and quickly blocked the door.

"Nope" you said simply "the article title is just that: an article title. I know it's not true you know it's not true so why does it matter" you asked

"It's disgusting" he said "they shouldn't talk about you-"

You cut him off "exactly! Me they are only talking about me in a bad light so why do you car so much?" You asked a little ticked that he was still trying to get passed you

"Because I care about you okay!" He confessed "I know it's dumb, you're my bodyguard and I-" he was cut off by a kiss.

You didn't know how but you ended up kissing him. He quickly reciprocated grabbing your chin pulling you closer.

As you both broke the kiss catching your breath you rested your foreheads against eachother looking into his eyes you smiled.

"When did you fall for me?" He asked

"When we cuddled on that uncomfortable couch" you smiled he blushed

"I didn't know you were awake for that" he said softly

You chuckled softly "when did you fall for me?" You asked

"It was love at first bite" He said "when you were protecting me from my father."

Then they fu-

Fin.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

[momospetdog]

Pillow Fights

Hirai Momo x F!reader

warnings: fluff:3, pillow fights… obviously

You and Momo had been living together for a few years now. One rainy afternoon, with plans canceled due to the rainy weather, you found yourselves lounging around the house with nothing to do. The rain pounded against the windows, creating a soothing yet monotonous backdrop.

Momo stretched out on the couch, letting out a sigh. “Well, this is a bummer. What do you want to do now?” you glanced over at her, a smile tugging at your lips. “How about we watch a movie? We’ve got plenty of time to kill”

Momo’s eyes lit up. “Alright. I’ll grab some blankets and snacks. You pick the movie” as Momo headed to the kitchen, you browsed through the movie options, eventually settling on a light-hearted comedy.

By the time Momo returned, the living room was transformed into a cozy nook, complete with a pile of blankets and a bowl of popcorn.

You both snuggled up on the couch, wrapped in cozy blankets and munching on popcorn. The rain outside created a soothing soundtrack, the rhythmic drumming against the windows blending with the soft hum of the television. The living room was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the chilly, wet weather outside. The dim lighting from a few strategically placed lamps cast a soft glow, adding to the cozy ambiance.

As the movie played, you found yourself getting more comfortable, sinking deeper into the cushions. The scent of buttered popcorn filled the air. Every so often, you reached into the large bowl of popcorn on your lap, your fingers brushing against Momo’s as she did the same. Each accidental touch sent a small thrill through you.

As the movie ended, you stretched and yawned. You got up to stretch, arching your back and raising your arms above your head. “That was a good movie,” you said, turning to face Momo.

Momo nodded, a satisfied smile on her face. “Yeah, it was. Perfect for a rainy day”

Feeling a surge of playful energy, you grabbed a nearby pillow and swung it gently at Momo. “Gotcha!”

Caught off guard, Momo’s eyes widened in surprise before a mischievous grin spread across her face. “Oh, it’s on,” she declared, grabbing a pillow of her own.

What started as a playful exchange quickly escalated into a full-blown pillow fight. Pillows and feathers flew as they chased each other around the living room, laughing and dodging attacks. Momo, with her quick reflexes, managed to land a few solid hits, while you used clever tactics to evade and counter.

“You’re too slow!” Y/N teased, ducking behind the couch.

“Just you wait,” Momo retorted, launching a playful attack that sent feathers flying everywhere.

You darted around the room, knocking over cushions and sending the popcorn bowl tumbling. You leaped onto the couch, using it as a fortress, while Momo circled around, trying to find an opening.

“You think you’re safe there?” Momo taunted, swinging her pillow and narrowly missing your shoulder. “Safe enough!” you shot back, laughing as you scrambled to the other side.

In the kitchen, they took brief breaks to catch their breath and sip on cold drinks, only to resume the fight with renewed energy. Momo leaned against the counter, panting slightly as she took a gulp of water.

“You’re relentless,” she said with a grin, wiping her forehead.

“You love it,” you teased, taking a swig of yout own drink. Momo laughed, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe a little”

Just then, you had an idea. “Boo! Dobby! Come here!” you called, and within moments, the two playful dogs bounded into the kitchen, tails wagging and eyes bright with excitement.

“Oh no,” Momo said, eyeing the dogs warily. “Not reinforcements!”

“Get her!” Y/N commanded playfully, pointing at Momo.

Boo and Dobby barked happily, jumping around and adding to the chaos. They joined in the fun, playfully nipping at Momo’s feet and making her dance around to avoid them.

Momo laughed, trying to fend off the dogs while still holding her pillow. “Traitors! I thought we were friends!”

“Looks like they’re on my side,” you taunted, laughing as you swung their pillow at Momo.

The kitchen echoed with your laughter and the excited barks of the dogs. Feathers continued to fly as they moved back and forth.

“You think you can win with their help?” Momo challenged, managing to land a solid hit on your shoulder.

“I know I can!” you replied, evading another swing and giving the dogs an encouraging pat. “Go Boo, Dobby!”

Boo jumped up, pawing at Momo’s legs, while Dobby circled around, barking excitedly. Momo’s attempts to fend them off were met with playful growls and more laughter.

“You’re not making this easy!” Momo called out, though her smile never faded. “It’s a pillow fight, not a tea party!” you shot back, swinging your pillow and catching Momo off guard.

The fight culminated in the bedroom, where you collapsed onto the bed in a fit of laughter, surrounded by a cloud of feathers and disheveled pillows. As you lay there, breathless and exhilarated, you turned to Momo, eyes sparkling with joy.

“We’ve made a huge mess,” you said, glancing around at the feathers that had settled everywhere. Momo grinned, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. “Yeah, we did. But it was totally worth it”

You both lay there for a moment, enjoying the aftermath of your playful battle. Finally, you sighed and started to sit up. “Alright, we should probably start cleaning this up before it gets even worse”

Momo grabbed your hand, pulling you back down. “Wait, not so fast. I think you owe me something first” You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Oh? And what’s that?”

“A kiss,” Momo said with a mischievous smile. “Just one, before we tackle this mess”

You chuckled and leaned in, intending to give Momo a quick peck. But Momo had other plans. She pulled you onto her lap, wrapping her arms around you and deepening the kiss. It was long and tender, filled with the warmth and affection that had grown between you over the years.

As you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless and flushed. Eventually, you reluctantly stood up, pulling Momo with you. “Alright, now we really need to clean up,” you said, looking around at the feather-strewn room.

Momo groaned playfully but nodded. “Yeah, yeah” As you looked around the chaotic room, the realization of the cleanup task ahead of them dawned. Feathers covered nearly every surface, and the pillows were in complete disarray.

“Well, someone’s got to clean this up,” you said, hands on your hips. Momo smirked, leaning against the wall. “And that someone should definitely be you since you started it” you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Me? You were the one who escalated it!”

“But you were the one who threw the first pillow,” Momo countered, a playful glint in her eye. You both stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Okay, how about this,” you suggested, still chuckling. “We do it together, but the person who picks up the least amount of feathers has to make dinner tonight” Momo nodded, agreeing to the terms. “Deal. But you better hope you’re quick”

After a quick comparison on which who picked up the least amount of the feathers—you lost, much to Momo’s delight

By the time you and Momo were done, the apartment was back in order, and both of you were a little tired but incredibly happy. You collapsed onto the couch once more, the dogs jumping up to join you.

You snuggled close to Momo, feeling utterly content. “I love you,” you murmured. Momo wrapped an arm around you, pulling you even closer. “I love you more”

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter twenty six

Summary: What actually happened the night John went missing?

Warning: No Cry Baby in this one. Graphic Violence. Murder. Implied Sexual Violence. Explicit Language, and Intense Emotional Distress.

Word Count: 929

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: The truth is out. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez | @am-3-thyst

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick

After your tense reunion at the bar, Steve, Bucky, and Sam refused to let John’s harassment of you go unanswered. Arranging to meet him at an abandoned warehouse, away from prying eyes on the outskirts of the city, their anger simmered. The atmosphere inside the warehouse was thick with anticipation, the only sound was the faint echoes of footsteps as they entered. 

John’s usual demeanor quickly faltered as he took in the determined faces of Steve, Bucky, and Sam. The smirk he wore wavering slightly, yet he tried to maintain his bravado. 

“What’s this, a little intervention?” He sneered, looking from one to the other. 

Steve stepped forward, his voice cold and controlled. “You’ve been harassing my sister,” he stated firmly. “That stops now.” 

Scoffing, John tried to play it off. “Aw, little Cry Baby can’t handle a few words? She needs her big brother to fight her battles?” 

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. “You’re going to regret every word you’ve said to her.” 

John once wavered smirk returns over his lips, it slowly turns into a derisive laugh. “Oh, and the guard dog has come to play tough, too? Pathetic.” 

Before anyone could react, Steve had launched himself toward John. His speed and force took him by surprise as Steve’s fist connected solidly with John’s jaw. The impact echoed through the warehouse as John was sent stumbling backward. 

“Do you think this is a joke?” Steve’s kept his voice low and dangerous. “I’m putting an end to it, Walker.” 

Recovering quickly, John swung back widely as his own anger flared. Effortlessly, Steve dodged the blows, countering with another powerful punch, knocking John off balance. Each movement of the confrontation was driven by Steve’s pent-up rage, every fierce exchange of punch and grapple. John desperately attempted to retaliate. 

Exchanging a glance, Bucky and Sam silently acknowledged the need to step in. They simultaneously moved forward, flanking John allowed Steve to press his advantage. With a steady stance, Bucky’s movements were calculated as he aimed precise punches at John’s midsection. A satisfying thud as the blows landed, causing a grunt of pain from John. 

Ever the strategist, Sam circled behind John as he waited for an opening. John turned to face Bucky, in doing so Sam delivered a swift kick to his knee, seizing the opportunity. John gave Steve another chance to land a punch to his jaw as he staggered. 

“You’re just a coward picking on someone who can’t fight back,” Steve growled at John between punches. 

Grimacing in pain and frustration, John’s face twisted. “She’s nothing,” he coughed. “Just another plaything,” he defiantly spat. “If you hadn’t shown up that night, I’d happily fucked her sweet little p–” 

Bucky landed another punch to his gut, cutting him off. 

Meanwhile, Steve froze, his entire body tensed with fury hearing John’s words. The mention of you in such a demeaning way had ignited a fire within him. Without another word, he launched himself toward John again, the force pushing him passed both Bukcy and Sam. Fueled by a primal need to protect you, his punches punish John for his disrespect.

Smirking cruelly, John’s face was evident with satisfaction as Steve’s blows landed. “Is that all you’ve got, Rogers?” he taunted, blood trickling from a split lip and brow. “Your sister isn’t worth shit, never mind this.” 

Rage blurred Steve’s vision, his fist rained down on John with relentless force. Each hit was a declaration of his loyalty to his sister. His commitment to defend her against anyone who dared harm her, belittle her… touch her. 

Bucky and Sam watched as Steve unleashed his fury. He continued to pummel John. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the warehouse, mingling with John’s gasps and Steve’s grunts. 

“Steve,” Bucky called out, but he was too far gone in his rage to hear as Bucky tried to pull him back. 

Under the barrage, John’s smirk wavered, but still, he managed to get out a breath. “You think you’re a hero, Rogers? You’re just as broken as she is.” 

Landing a particularly brutal punch to John’s temple, Steve caused him to slump to the ground. He tried to push himself up as he coughed, blood spraying from his mouth. But yet, he laughed, a broken, mocking sound. 

“I enjoyed breaking her,” he spat, venom dripping from his voice.

Steve snapped. Grabbing John by the throat, he lifted him from the ground. John’s hand clawed at Steve’s grip but it was no use. A mask of rage consumed Steve, the intensity of the blaze in his eyes even caused Bucky and Sam to step back. 

“You’ll never hurt her again,” he growled, tightening his grip. John’s face began to turn purple as he struggled to breathe. He tried to speak, yet all that came was a strangled gurgle. 

“Steve!” Sam shouted as John’s bones began to crack under the pressure of Steve’s grip. And, with a final twist, Steve brutally snapped John’s neck. The sickening crack echoed through the warehouse. 

Steve couldn’t loosen his grip as John’s body went limp. He stood, breathing heavily as blood covered his hand. 

“Steve,” Bucky broke the silence, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s over. He’s gone.” 

Steve didn’t respond at first, his eyes still locked on John’s lifeless gaze. Slowly, the reality began to sink in as he looked down at his bloodied hand, then back up at John. 

Sam stepped forward, placing a steady hand on Steve’s other shoulder. His phone pressed to his ear. “Fury, we’ve got a problem…” 

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[thebibliosphere]

It’s been a while since I fever dreamed the plot to something, but I just woke up from a literal fever dream set in a futuristic version of New York where Tom Hiddleston and his pet cyborg owl are entrenched in a spy thriller buddy-cop narrative, only to get swept up in the conflicting heartfelt rom-com narrative of Dakota Johnson who, after a series of unfortunate breakups, has sworn off love and committed herself heart and soul to her job as a curator at Futuristic Met Museum. This is much to the distress of her weed smoking, shroom taking trans lesbian mothers and their elderly dog, Jeff, who just want her to find happiness and love.

As part of his cover, Tom and his cyborg owl, Frank, move into the same apartment where he’ll be staying for several months while he plans to steal a diamond from the Met. I think if you held it up to the light it would project nuclear launch codes that’d been etched onto it. Don’t ask me, my brain was more focused on making the cyborg owl into the wise-cracking comic relief. It kept saying things like “wow Tom, you really are a jack of owl trades” or “don’t worry, Tom, owl always love you.”

The pair meet in the lobby where Tom manages to piss off Dakota by not holding the elevator for her while she is carrying heavy boxes. The apartment building, however, is old and shitty, and he gets stuck in the elevator, requiring him to be rescued by one of Dakota’s mothers who also happens to be the super. Dakota huffs her way out the stairwell just in time to hear her mother inviting the “nice British man” to dinner, much to her chagrin as she realizes that her mom is trying to set her up with the asshole and the cyborg owl that sits on his shoulder like a parrot.

Tom, who finds out she works for the met over said dinner, decides to go along with it as he realizes she’d be the perfect cover to get into the Met Museum for an upcoming gala event—not to mention the perfect person to take the fall for his theft—and begins wooing her relentlessly, assuring Frank, the cyborg owl, that it’s all just part of the mission.

Eventually, the pair fall for each other for realzies, and Tom is conflicted over using her to steal the diamond but his time is running out because we also find out he went rogue for a while after his partner died and was using his skills to work freelance for an international crime syndicate and now the mob is after him?????

Anyway, he’s about to confess all to her on the night of the gala when she gets a phone call from her moms letting her know that their elderly dog, Jeff, is dying so the pair rush back to the apartment and take him to the nearest cyborg vet in the hopes of saving him. En route, the mob find them and start shooting at the flying car they’re in and it leads to a comedic shouting match between the pair along the lines of “what do you mean you’re an international spy and the mob are after you? Ugh, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this sooner! I told you everything about me!”

“Oh, yes, your embarrassing high school stories are exactly the same thing as divulging international secrets. Tell you what, after this let’s get a coffee and I can tell you some highly sensitive top secret information to even out the playing field.”

Anyway, Frank the cyborg owl manages to take out the mob car chasing them with a grenade (????!), and the pair get Jeff to the cyborg vet in time. The dream shifted after that to Dakota helping Tom to figure out how to break into the Met so he can get the diamond, not because she loves him and he helped save her childhood dog, but because she wants him gone. Tom accepts her help and storms off to his own apartment where Frank the cyborg owl is poignantly silent save to say “take some Tylenol”

“…what?”

“Wake up, you need Tylenol.”

Which is what sent me rocketing upright in bed, dizzy and dehydrated, pounding migraine headache, drenched in sweat and running what the thermometer tells me is a 102 fever.

Which brings us to now where I’m downing Tylenol in the dimly lit kitchen, guzzling water and typing this all up on my phone because there’s no way I’m going to remember all this in the morning but damn if it wasn’t a fun dream.

Anyway, shout out to Frank the cyborg owl for waking me up before my brain fried ✌️🦉. I’m going back to bed.

[12woso12]

Dorothy lands in North London - Part 3

Part 2

Hey! Hope you're enjoying the story so far, this chapter is a little darker than the last few but hopefully you'll understand why. It won't be long until more of the Arsenal girls start to make an appearance and relationships start to develop.

TW: Mental health, nightmares, violence

Emily wasn't a night person. She loved mornings, her alarm was set for 7am every single day and you were ashamed to admit the opposite about yourself. You loved the night, it was the only time you ever really felt at peace. There was no one else around and therefore no expectations to uphold, sometimes you would even take a ball to the local park and practice smashing it into the face a hundred dozen times in the dead of night. Of course, you felt a little uneasy going out at night in a completely new country and so you opted out of that idea for your first night in London.

Instead, you sat in Emily's guest room as her snores from next door rattled your shared wall. You'd forgotten that Emily was a loud sleeper, it had only been the one time that you'd shared a room with her on camp and you'd been too tired most of the time to even notice it back then. An episode of Love Island was playing softly on the tv, it was true that the UK version was miles better than the US one but you'd take that to the grave.

With one eye on the re-coupling taking place on screen, you fumble around in your bedsheets for your phone and notice you have several thousand new followers, a few of your future teammates included. It was strange, the news wasn't even official yet, you wouldn't sign the contract until tomorrow and the announcement wouldn't be put out until next week yet you felt as though the whole world knew.

To be fair, your instagram story probably added fuel to the fire. And Arsenal weren't exactly known for being able to keep a secret. You remembered seeing a picture of Emily on their instagram before she'd been officially announced.

Among the Arsenal teammates who'd opted to follow you were Kyra Cooney-Cross and Katie McCabe. You follow them back instantly, excited about making new connections in the footballing world. You wondered if they'd been together while stalking your instagram, you were nervous at what they thought of you. Your instagram was nothing short of wild. There was no organisation to it at all. You had footballing pictures followed by random photographs you'd taken on nights out and occasionally a few random dogs made appearance. Emily said you'd be friends with Kyra and you'd even seen fans online chattering about how well you'd get on, hopefully they were right about the Aussie.

You settle down further into bed, Love Island finally finishing for the night as a tired yawn breaks from your lips. You don't stay awake long enough to find out what's on next.

'Y/n' Someone was shaking you awake.

'Y/n wake up for God's sake'. Your eyes open to a mysterious hooded figure stood in the middle of your dark room. 'I thought i told you to stay awake' It spoke. The voice was unrecognisable but it sent a shiver of familiar fear down your spine. You sit and shuffle as far into your pillows as humanly possible, never once taking your eyes off the figure.

'Who are you?' your voice was weak and distant as though it didn't really belonged to you. The figure chuckled and took a long step forward, closing distance quickly between the two of you.

You can't move.

Your body won't move. No matter how hard you will it to.

'You know who i am' The figure growled 'You've seen this all before. You've been here before y/n'

You can feel yourself sweating, your eyes dart around the room and you suddenly realise you aren't in London anymore.

'I'm back in Kansas' you whisper incredulously 'And that means...dad?' You let out a strangled cry as the figure launches itself at you, hand out stretched and reaching for your throat. It pulls you to the floor and you squirm under its weight. It was your father, you could tell by the way he smelt, by the way his hands still fit perfectly around your neck. He was going to kill you this time, there was no escaping him now.

You were going to die. And your maker would be the one to kill you.

You clawed at his hands on your throat but it was no use, the fight had already been lost. You let out a final cry and the last thing you see before you pass out is the haunting face of the man who was suppose to love you most.

'FUCK' you wake up, properly this time.

It was just a dream. You were safe but it didn't feel like it, the smell of beer on your father's lips had been so real. He had been so real. You fumbled for your bedside lamp switch and let out a sigh of relief as it flickered on to reveal you were still in London. Kansas was a thousand miles away, no one could hurt you here.

You took a shallow breath trying to get your breathing under control, your eyes spotted with black dots and the room felt shaky around you. It wasn't that you weren't use to nightmares, because you were. It was the fact that you hadn't expected it.

You had secretly thought that moving to London and putting even more distance between yourself and the hell you grew up in would be beneficial. When you'd first moved from Kansas to Gotham it had done you a world of wonder and it helped even more so when you'd made the move to Orlando. Your nightmares were less frequent, you didn't feel like throwing up every time you saw a women who resembled your mother or a father angry at his child. Of course you'd still have the occasional bad day where you couldn't get out of bed or force food down your throat, who didn't? But all in all life had been better the further from Kansas you got.

So, why was London any different? It made you uneasy, it made you scared. All alone in a big city, the weight of expectation on your shoulders, the memories of the past fresh in your mind.

You were built for this, you reminded yourself. If your rough upbringing had given you anything, it was a will to fight.

Timidly you reached for your phone to check the time and sighed when it read 2:08am. You had hours until you needed to be up and on your way to the Emirates where you'd finally sign your contract and film your big reveal for the fans. As you unlocked your phone and busied yourself scrolling through instagram, you were astonished to see a notification in your Dms from Kyra.

'What the hell?' you murmured, clicking on the notification hesitantly.

Kyracooneyx I hope Em is being nice to you

You smirk at the message, incredibly happy that a member of the team was reaching out to you. You were glad of its casualness and decided to follow suit.

Y/n13 Well well well... if it isn't 1/3 of Ausenal

Kyra was clearly awake as she began to type the moment your message had been sent in response.

Kyracooneyx I like to think of myself as the best Aussie in North London

Y/n13 That's rather conceited don't you think?

Y/n13 Poor Steph Cately

Kyracooneyx She'll get over it

Kyracooneyx So when do you sign for us?

Y/n13 Bright and early tomorrow morning

Kyracooneyx Then why are you awake

You pause for a second, trying to concoct a lie.

Y/n13 I got side tracked watching love island

Kyracooneyx Not that shit. And to think, we could've been friends

Y/n13 Everyones been saying that

Kyracooneyx Saying what?

Y/n13 That we'll get on

Kyracooneyx Well Emily did describe you as a little shit the other day at training and that's what Steph calls me sometimes

Y/n13 we can be shits together

You laughed aloud at the absurdity of your conversation. You already sounded like best friends.

Kyracooneyx Are you doing anything right now?

Y/n13 Absolutely nothing

Kyracooneyx There's a park two minutes down the road from Emily's, meet me there? I'll ping the address

Y/n13 Count me in

You threw on a pair of joggers and an oversized jumper before sneaking out the door, elated that you'd found a new friend. And even more so now that you had a distraction from the haunting memories that ran through your brain.

[nichuuu]

Dried Things & Humanity

말린 것들과 인류

Word count: 13k+ SMUTLESS FIC

"The world, after all, was still a place of bottomless horror. It was by no means a place of childlike simplicity where everything could be settled by a simple then-and-there decision" ~Osamu Dazai

Dried flowers. 

They sat by your bedside, a constant reminder of how far you would go for love—A love that would never be anything more than a short-lived euphoria. They’d died some time ago, wilting rather quickly under a lack of care, but you kept them. The text that came when spring first rolled around saying hey let’s break up was not expected, neither was the part where she blocked you, nor was the part where you almost jumped off a bridge. Yet it all happened, a confusing, muddled, mish mash of events that went down over the span of a week. If it weren’t for your friends, you would be at the bottom of the river by now, joining your grandfather and maybe your family dog up in the clouds, or wherever it was that spirits wandered to. At the moment, getting out of this life didn’t seem like too bad of an idea.

You stupid child! Your mother had chided when she found out about what you almost did. What do you think you would’ve achieved with that? What good will it do? 

Then she hugged you, held you tight and sobbed as she thanked god for letting you live another day. Frankly, you didn’t know what was the appropriate response for your mother. You opted to hug her back, tearfully whispering your endless apologies to her. Even though you promised to never make another attempt on your life, the fear of losing her only boy still lingered in your mother’s mind. Your mother and father were always in the office. So, in fear that living alone would drive you to the worst possible option, she sent you to live with your uncle who ran a secondhand bookshop in a small town not too far from the city. She filled him in with what happened and pleaded for him to help you “recover”.

“Don’t worry little sis,” he assured your mother. He threw an arm around you, “I’ll take care of him like he’s my own son. We’ll get along, won’t we?”

Park Sang-hoon—the people living in the area called him “the librarian”—was your mother’s older brother. You hadn’t seen him since you graduated from middle school, and he’d certainly aged from the last time you saw him. The hair that was once jet black and slicked back was turning white and receding. The same friendly complexion remained however, the amiable smile that you remembered greeting you when he opened the door to his house. It was a stone's throw away from the bookstore.

The house and the business had been imparted upon him by your grandparents. It was relatively small, but there was enough room for the two of you to live with your own privacy (though that didn't really matter since he’d just come barging into the room you stayed in anyway.)

The door to your room flung open. “Hey kid! Rise and shine!”

You grumbled something incoherent and pulled the blanket over your head. 

“Up! Up! It’s time to get up!” your uncle bellowed in a sing-song tone, “there are so many things to see and do! Get up you lazy child!”

Your blanket was yanked off your entire body.

“Is this really necessary?” you snapped. Your uncle grinned.

“No. But it’s fun,” he beamed. You rolled your eyes and rolled onto your left side, you back facing him, 

“Leave me alone…” you muttered, “let me sleep…”

“I’ve been letting you do that for the past week,” your uncle huffed, “now your mother is calling me, demanding to know if you’d even emerged from this room. She said some mean things to me, you know?”

You sighed and turned onto your back. “I’ll go out tomorrow…”

Your uncle sighed. “Let me tell you something…”

Let me tell you something was the signal for you to tune out. “Let me tell you something”, “Let me tell you this”—your uncle always said these before he launched into a long rambling story that really added no value to what he was trying to say. It was either that or he’d leave you with a cryptic message to decipher yourself. You never understood why he did that, it was probably just an old people thing.

By the time he was done with his little storytime, you were still in bed. With another heavy sigh, your uncle said, “fine… If you’re not gonna go anywhere today, at least come and help me with the store.”

Your mind told you to stay in bed, but your body told you that you needed to get outside. You decided to listen to the latter party for once. 

The bookshop was old, one of those shophouses down a stretch of road that townsfolk usually walked past on the daily. Needless to say, the store wasn’t the most appealing from the outside. The inside however—That was something else.

You remembered visiting the bookstore with your mother once or twice. A stack of books nearly fell on you that time, and your uncle was berated rather viciously. He’d definitely made some improvements in the time you were away. The store was warm, cosy and relatively organised. The shelves were evidently a little worn from the years, but they still looked and felt sturdy to the touch.  It was a welcoming environment, the interior bearing a striking resemblance to a bookstore of the early 90s.

“I’ve kept up with the times!” your uncle boasted proudly, “nowadays everyone and their mothers are all into this retro aesthetic, so I made sure to keep as much of the hip and cool retro feel.”

Your uncle definitely did his research. You couldn’t help but look upon the shelves filled with books with awe. “This is…”

“Pretty lit, am I right?” your uncle grinned. You cringed.

Your uncle frowned. “What? Did I not use the phrase correctly?”

“N-No it’s just… Ah whatever,” you muttered.

“Damn… I swear I had the meaning for that one down,” your uncle muttered, “the slang of the youth… Such an odd thing.”

After giving you a little more time to admire the place, your uncle tossed you an apron and instructed you to put it on. 

“I’m alright with letting you stay with me for free,” your uncle told you as he helped you tie the strings of the apron behind your back, “but I won’t let you wallow in this post-breakup sadness all day.”

He spun you around, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “You just graduated from highschool, no?”

You nodded. 

“Perfect, you’ll need some job experience then,” he grinned, “from now on. You’ll work for me till your stay here is over!”

And so it began. From that day onwards, you started filling shelves, dusting books, pasting on price tags and flipping through pages of books that had been sold to the store to assess the state of the book. It was far from enjoyable in the beginning. It felt akin to the life of Andy Dufrane in Shawshank redemption, the same old routine repeated day after day in what felt like an endless cycle. You were up early in the morning to open the shop with your uncle, the brown apron on your person by 7am in the morning and the door to the shop open by 9am after you were with the opening up preparations. You had to flip the plastic sign hanging on the door from “open” to “closed” every morning, and from “open” back to “closed” in the late evenings. Lunch was usually around 12pm, where your uncle would go out to one of the nearby restaurants to get lunch for the two of you. You’d sit opposite each other in the small break room that sat behind the counter, munching on whatever he bought. 

Handling customers was also another gruelling task. You admittedly didn’t have a voracious appetite for books, many authors sounding foreign to you. A good majority of the books that the store had on hand were classics from esteemed authors, varying in language, length and appeal. When customers asked you what you’d recommend, you could only shrug, earning yourself a nasty gare before they walked off. When they asked about the disparity between the prices of the same book, you could only stare blankly before calling to your uncle.The store had duplicates of some books, the only thing separating the copies being the cover art or the type of book cover. 

“Let me tell you something,” your uncle had told you one fine day, “hardcover books are much more valuable than the usual soft cover books. You want to know why?”

That last part wasn’t a question, rather more of a filler. Apparently, a hardcover was typically more durable, allowing it to better protect the pages within. This meant that the book would stay in better condition for longer. Ultimately, the process and materials needed for hardcover book printing were more expensive, hence this cost is passed on to readers. 

“Capitalism,” you muttered, placing the hardcover version of Greek Lessons by Han Kang on the shelf. 

As for the cover art—Some covers were objectively more appealing than the other, making the book more valuable. This was the case for Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human. The two covers looked about the same to you. 

 On some days, you wondered how such an old secondhand bookstore could’ve lasted for so long. There were days where you only sold two books for little Won each, and those were typically on weekdays where some of the townsfolk—usually on the more elderly side—would come through the doors and browse through the books. But on the weekends, you were reminded just how hectic this place could get. The youth from the city loved to flood the shop over the weekends, making the commute from the heart of the country to this small shop in a small town to browse through the seemingly endless selection of books.The line to the counter often snaked out the door and onto the street on those days, and your fingers would be aching by the end of the day—A byproduct of gripping those handles of those paper bags while struggling to get them open.

After a week or two, you got used to the whole routine. It didn’t help to remove the monotony of your tasks however, and you often found yourself wondering how your uncle could run this place on his own for so long. With the memories of your ex still tormenting your mind, you found it hard to focus on your tasks at times. Sometimes, you just didn’t want to get up in the mornings. The dried flowers by your bedside were a constant reminder of the pain. You’d bought them for her on the day that text came, now you couldn’t let go of them.

One evening, your uncle decided to close up the shop a little earlier. It’d been a slow Wednesday, so there was no harm in resting up a little earlier than usual. 

“Come with me,” he told you after he’d locked the shutter in place, “I want to take you somewhere.”

You walked up the stretch with him, walking past the rows of shophouses that lined the street. You saw bookstores that looked similar to your uncle’s a couple of times, prompting you to wonder just how many people sold secondhand books on this stretch. 

He took you to a small bridge at the end of the road. It was one of those old, traditional Korean bridges with the stone tiling that arched over the water. He took you up to its apex and made you look out into the water. 

“What do you see?” he asked you.

“Is this one of those stupid lectures again?” you muttered.

“Just answer me.”

You sighed. “I see the water and some trees.”

“Good. What else?” he urged. 

“There’s nothing else,” you told him.

“Wrong. Look again.”

You rolled your eyes and set your sights a little further. “I see Cogongrass.”

“What else?”

You were certain that this was one of his stupid little talks again. “Just tell me what you want to say, uncle!”

“Always so impatient…” he chuckled.

Gently, he grabbed your chin and tipped it up. With his other hand, he pointed out into the distance—Past the trees, water, the cogon grass and the roofs of the shophouses. There, you saw the mountains and the roads that stretched for kilometres, the faint shape of those big blue signs that pointed you in the directions to different places.

“You limit yourself to what you see in this area,” he explained, “but you fail to see past this river and this small town.”

He turned you back to face him. You were a little taller than him, so he had to look up at you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders, holding them firmly. 

“You must learn to set your sights further, dear nephew,” he told you, “learn to see past the trees and the water in your mind. Then and only then, will you be able to live once more.” 

The cryptic message left you admittedly puzzled on the way home. It took you some thinking to read between the lines and understand what your uncle had told you—You had to look past the memories of your ex in order to move on with your life. 

“Excellent,” your uncle had praised when you knocked on his door to ask if your interpretation of his message was correct, “I hope that you can remember this. I hate to see you moping around my store. It scares my customers away too!”

Your first step in looking past the memories was to toss out the dried flowers from your bedside. Even though it was painful, you did it. You knew you needed to.

In its place by your bedside, you bought an alarm clock—one of those old ones that still used the hammers to knock the two small bells—And a framed photograph of the town. You bought both of them from one of the nice old ladies who ran a souvenir shop just down the road. 

It was the start of a new beginning. It felt like you were human once more.

***

Dried Persimmon.

That was what you were munching on when you were handed your first paycheck from your uncle.

“W-Why are you paying me?” you stammered, “I-I thought this was just something to occupy my time!”

“I may be cheap, but I won’t exploit my own nephew!” your uncle laughed, “now quit sneaking snacks on your shift and get back to work!” 

You knew that your uncle was generous, but you never expected him to be this generous. With a smile, you wiped the bits of the dried fruit from the corners of your lips before pocketing the envelope. 

“Thanks,” you beamed. You raised the small jar of dried persimmons and asked, “want one?”

“Tsk. I’m a professional, I don’t eat on my shift,” he sneered. 

“You sure?” you confirmed, “this is a fresh batch from Miss Cho’s…”

“From Miss Cho’s?” he gasped, “gimme some of that!”

You had become well acquainted with the townsfolk, especially with the ones that ran the stores on the same stretch as the bookstore. Sometimes, the sweet old ladies from down the road would come in to deliver some gifts to you and your uncle. Everyone seemed to be friends in this town. Miss Cho was one of the many townsfolk that specialised in dried goods. A sweet lady really, a little older than your mother but not as old as your uncle. Persimmons were seasonal fruits, so they were naturally high in demand in late spring. 

You let your uncle take one piece of the dried fruit before closing the lid and setting it atop the table in the break room. Your uncle stepped aside to let you exit, and you went to continue your shift. 

Surprisingly, it didn’t take too long to move on from your ex. Yes, you did share some fond memories with her, but you found these “core memories” made with her easy to forget. She no longer appeared in your dreams, neither did you think about her when you were going about your tasks. She’d become a distant pain, a pain that you never intend to revisit. 

Once, she did happen to come by the bookstore on a weekend. She walked into the crowded store, hand in hand with a brand new boyfriend while you were calculating somebody’s purchase. You caught yourself staring at her as she browsed through the books, her boyfriend lingering close by as he read over her shoulder. It was then that your uncle firmly grabbed you by the shoulder. He’d seen pictures of her. He could recognise her on sight

“Look past the trees and the water,” he reminded you, before going back to checking out books. You tore away your gaze from them and continued with your work.

When she came out to the counter to pay, the look of shock on her face almost made you want to double over in laughter. Swiftly and wordlessly, you took her books and packaged them neatly in a bag. 

“That will be forty-thousand Won ma’am,” you had smiled respectfully. She was still staring at you, her mouth open in the shape of an “o”.  Her boyfriend had to pay and take the goods from you before directing her out of the store. 

When they left, your uncle gave you a gentle pat on your hand. Well done was what he was trying to say. 

True to your uncle’s lesson, once you had gotten over her, you felt like you were alive. You found that you quickly took a liking to this new lifestyle, immersing yourself in the wide array of books that were at your disposal and even taking home a few to read. It felt like a fresh new chapter had begun in your life, and you were more than ready to welcome its start. The monotony was now welcomed in this slower-paced segment of your life.

“By the way,” your uncle called to you as you set down a box of books. He’d just bought them off a guy moving overseas. “I have a feeling that business will start to pick up soon!’

“Why’s that?” you asked.

“You’ll see…” he smiled. He popped another dried persimmon into his mouth. “Damn! This batch is bussin!”

You cringed. You could get used to life in this small town, but you knew that you’d never get used to your uncle throwing out the slang of your generation. You wondered if he had Tik Tok on his phone or if he’d seen one too many Instagram reels.

With your box cutter, you cut open the tape that sealed the cardboard box, the one that housed the goods. You opened the box. 

“The hell…” you muttered as you stared at the books within, “who did you get these off?”

“Some preschool principal. What’s up?” your uncle asked. 

You produced one of the many alarmingly thin books from the box. “Hate to break it to you but… These are all children’s books.”

Your uncle was never one to swear, but he made a rare exception for that moment. 

“Fuck!” he cussed rather loudly, “I should’ve asked what the contents were!”

You chuckled and placed the book back into the cardboard box. “Don’t worry uncle, we can always sell these to the daycare, can’t we?”

“Bourgeoisie scumbag! I paid a lot for that!” your uncle continued to ramble. You decided that it would be best to silently push the box into the storeroom while he let his frustrations out.

***

Dried leaves. 

That's what you were sweeping when a black van rolled into the stretch of street. The front doors opened and a man and a woman stepped out. It was early autumn. The leaves of those trees that grew next to the bookstore—Once beautiful and elegant in nature—became pesky as their leaves had begun to wither and fall. Your uncle saw the mess outside the store and immediately got you to start sweeping it up. He couldn’t stand the sight of it.

You halted your broom as the man and woman approached you. 

“Hello,” the woman greeted you, “is this Park’s second hand books?” 

You nodded and pointed at the sign above you. The woman grinned. She turned and told the man to get the gear out. 

You recognised the city accent in their voices. 

The man wrapped around the vehicle and opened the trunk. You tried to look into the van but found that the tinted windows didn’t let you see anything. The man came back around, a heavy video camera—those ones they used to film movies—on his shoulder. The woman approached the door of the van and pulled it open. 

Five girls got out of the van, selfie sticks with Gopros attached to the end in their hands as they filed out of the vehicle one by one. It took a moment for you to recognize the five of them, and another moment to realise that there were global superstars standing right before you. 

In a wordless panic, you dropped the broom and bolted into the store. Your uncle was behind the counter, counting the bills in the cash register when you called him.

“ITZY is in front of the store!” you exclaimed. Your uncle cocked his head.

“ITZY?” he inquired, “is that a new slang or something?”

“N-No! T-Their idols, uncle! There are idols outside the door!” 

It took a moment for your uncle to process what you’d said. Then, he simply smiled. 

“Right… I forgot to tell you about that,” he said. He placed the bills he had been counting back into the register and walked out from behind the counter. 

“Oooh… These girls are much prettier in person,” your uncle mused as he walked by. He opened the door to the store and stepped outside. You could hear his booming voice through the open door. “HELLO! WELCOME! WELCOME!” 

You could hear them exchanging greetings outside the store. Hurriedly, you scanned around the store, looking for any signs of mess. There were thankfully none.

“Come in! It’s rather cold out,” your uncle said, “it’s much warmer in here!”

You quickly stood up straighter, your hands by your sides as the five ITZY girls walked through the door of the store. 

“Welcome to the store!” your uncle grinned, “that over there is my nephew, he runs the place with me for now.”

The girls turned. The feeling of five pairs of eyes on you was nerve-wracking, and the two cameras that started to flank you on either side weren’t helping to ease your nerves. Where did the second camera come from? You couldn’t help but wonder.

You gulped, a tug of war between waving and bowing to the girls ensuing in your head as you stared blankly. 

“He’s uh… A little shy,” your uncle chuckled. Then he gave you a look, one that said hurry up and say hello you dense child.

There was no victor in the mental tug of war. In the end, you resorted to an awkward half wave, half bow. The girls sniggered at your greeting.

Then and there, you wanted to shrink down and hide in the shelf behind you. 

The woman from earlier started speaking to the girls. “This is the final place. Now, we will draw lots to see who goes where!”

She produced a handful of popsicle sticks. The girls started talking about how nervous they were, giggling amongst themselves as they started to draw the sticks one by one. Your uncle stood by the woman, a small smile on his face as he patiently awaited the result.

“Oh. Looks like I’ll be working here!” Shin Yuna smiled as she looked at her stick. You weren’t sure if it was excitement or disappointment that you heard in her voice. 

“Excellent!” your uncle beamed. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen going twenty, sir!” Yuna answered bubbly. 

“Ah! Looks like my nephew will have a friend of his age then!” your uncle laughed. 

“E-Eh?” you blurted, “w-what’s happening?”

Your uncle walked up next to you. He put an arm around your shoulder.

“I’ll explain later,” he whispered.

Yuna giggled and cleared the hair from her face. You made eye contact with her. 

She grinned. 

You felt a burning sensation on your face. 

***

Dried Pollack soup.

That was what you ate with your uncle as people came in to set up cameras around the store. Every corner, every angle, every millimetre was covered by at least one Gopro.

“They said in the email that it was for their Youtube,” your uncle told you, “they're gonna live in this town for a bit, work at some of the stores… Taking a break from their idol activities apparently.”

“B-But why the bookstore?” you inquired. Your uncle shrugged.

“I don’t know. They sent me a 30 page proposal that I didn’t bother to read. I figured that having idols in our store would help boost our business. Get people from other parts to come here—You know what I’m saying?” 

You did not know what he was saying. The whole situation was so overwhelming. An idol working at the bookstore? For how long? What did you need to do?

A knock came on the break room door. You turned and saw a man standing there, Gopro in hand.

“Sorry to disturb you, but can I put a camera in here?” he asked politely. 

Your uncle gave him a look and asked, “is that completely necessary?”

“I-I mean… If you guys are okay with it,” you replied. Your uncle sighed.

“Take the soup out,” he instructed you, “give them space to set up…”

***

A very, very dry mouth. 

That's what you had when Yuna walked into the store for her first day of work. 

She was tailed by one cameraman and another woman, both of them wearing the same shirt that read “JYP CREW”. You could feel the cold sweat on your palms as you handed her the apron that already had her name tag on it. With a rather apparent stutter, you welcomed her to her new job. She smiled, that radiant smile that you’d only seen on your phone screen now right before you. It sent a warm fuzz down your spine. 

Your uncle showed her around, breaking down the various jobs to her as you opened up a box of books—they weren’t children’s books this time—and got to filling the shelves. You could hear every word that came out from your uncle's mouth as you explained the tasks that the idol was to undertake, as well as the opening and closing timings of the store. He finished his run down just as you finished placing the last book from the box on the shelf.

“What should I do now?” you heard her ask. 

“Go help my nephew. I think he could use a hand,” your uncle replied.

“Right! On it!” came her bubbly reply. 

You could feel your heart beating faster as you felt her get closer and closer. 

A tap on your shoulder.

“Hello!’ she greeted you, “let’s work well together!”

You managed to sputter out something. She asked for instructions on what she should do. You blanked out for a second. Then tremulously, you reached into your apron and pulled out the second box cutter. 

“U-Um,” you began. “T-There’s a box of… B-Books in the store… Just… Just uh…”

Her gaze felt piercing even though it was gentle. It’d been awhile since you’d stood before a girl this gorgeous. Your nineteen-year-old hormones were getting to you, sweat beading your forehead as you struggled to give the idol instructions. 

Then suddenly, you ran away. You didn’t know why you ran, but you just ran out of the store and down the street. Getting away from the store was your main task, and you ran quite a good distance in the chilly autumn air before you finally ran out of breath. Clammy, tense and exhausted, you rested outside one of the shophouses along the stretch. 

“Fuck… What’s wrong with me?” you questioned yourself. It was like you’d never talked to a girl in your life. 

It only took a second or two for the adrenaline to fade. In its place came embarrassment as you buried your face in your hands. What are you doing you stupid idiot! Why did you run? You chided yourself, beating your cheek with your own palm. 

You heard someone call your name. You raised your head.

“Why are you slapping yourself in front of my store?” Miss Cho inquired. She was pushing a cart full of pears. They were probably freshly harvested. 

“Oh… Hey Miss Cho,” you greeted her, “I was just… I-I don’t know…”

You ended up pushing Miss Cho’s cart back up the street. 

“She’s a what now?” Miss Cho pressed.

“An idol Miss Cho,” you explained. You eventually got around to telling her the reason as to why you were beating yourself in front of her shop. The concept of someone singing and dancing for a living sounded completely foreign to Miss Cho—Someone who spent most of her life drying fruits and making snacks—So you had to explain it to her. 

“Ah… I remember my daughter saying something about it,” Miss Cho mused, “so… Why did you run away from her?”

“I… Don’t know,” you told her truthfully, “I guess I just freaked out.”

“Because she’s famous?” she pressed. You thought about it for a moment, then you nodded.

Miss Cho stopped addressing you for a moment to greet Mrs Han, the lady that ran one of the restaurants on the stretch with her husband. Miss Cho gave the restaurant owner a whole carton worth of pears, telling Mrs Han to make something tasty out of them before the two of you continued moving along.

“Why are you scared of an Idol?” she continued to question.

“I-I don’t know… I-I guess it’s because she’s popular and all, so I’m scared that I’ll make a fool of myself in front of her,” you reasoned. 

Miss Cho hummed and nodded. “I see…” 

She stopped once more, this time in front of the sweets store. You helped her pull out a crate of apples from the bottom of the stacks of pears and handed it to the store owner. Miss Cho requested for a batch of the sweets when they were ready before the two of you got to moving again. 

“So… Why does this girl being this idol make her any less normal than you?” she asked. 

“P-Pardon?” you stuttered, “I-I never… I never said that…”

Miss Cho chuckled, one of those nice Ahjumma laughs that could warm one’s heart. “You did not, but the way you spoke of her implied it.”

You let that sink in for a moment. Now that you thought of it, you’d made Yuna sound like some high and mighty god that could smite you with a snap of her fingers.

“Just because someone has millions of fans doesn't mean that they’re any less of a human than you and I,” Miss Cho told you, “just because someone is adored doesn't make them more superior. If that was the case, I’d be a warlord by now!”

The dried fruits specialist cackled at her own joke. She always had a tendency to do that.

“You see… The problem with fame is that everyone places you on a pedestal,” she continued, “a mistake could cost your whole reputation. A good choice could gain you more popularity. It’s a never ending game, dehumanising in the sense that these famous people can’t afford to live normal lives. Why? Because they’re not considered normal! That’s not right if you ask me…”

You were wondering where this knowledge was coming from. You made it a mental note to talk to Miss Cho a little more. Was it normal for all the old people in this town to be so wise?

The two of you finally stopped in front of the bookshop. Miss Cho instructed you to take in a crate of pears, assuring you that she could make the rest of the journey down the street herself. You waved goodbye to her and prepared to enter once more.

“Remember,” she called to you. You were just about to open the door. “That girl is human. Treat her the way you’d treat any other human.”

She left you with that nugget of wisdom before she bade you farewell and continued with her journey up the street. You sat on her words for a moment before you entered the bookstore once more. 

Yuna’s head snapped towards the door when she heard the chime of the door. You made eye contact with her. 

Human. 

With a smile, you carried the crate into the store and asked, “pears anyone?”

***

A dry wipe. 

That’s what you gave Yuna to clean the dust off the shelves. Two weeks had elapsed since she’d started working with you and your uncle. You never got used to the fact that there were always cameras around you, nor did you ever get used to the fact that the woman and the cameraman would pull you aside and ask for your opinions on Yuna as an employee every now and then. You would always try to be as honest as possible, excluding any embarrassing slip ups she made in an effort to not badmouth the girl.

Within her first week here, she’d already clocked in late once. She apologised furiously that day, working twice as hard to compensate for her mistake. Standing tall, she could reach for the things that customers couldn’t, making her a great help to the regulars. She learnt quickly, finding the most optimal way to replenish the shelves by her fourth day and figured out the best way to assess the state of the book on her fifth.

Weekends had become more packed because of her, the word that Shin Yuna from ITZY was working at the store getting out rather quickly within the first Saturday she worked here. The next day, you had a flock of Midzy’s in front of the store 3 hours before opening. You had to guide Yuna in through the back entrance to prevent her from being swarmed. While Yuna greeted her fans that came to see her in the store with a big smile, you couldn’t help but notice the hint of tiredness behind her eyes. It was like she didn’t really want to be there, but she had no other choice

Now, she was doing an excellent job getting the dust off the top shelves. 

“I think that’s good enough Yuna,” you told her. She turned to look at you.

“You sure? I think it still needs one more round,” she told you.

“I’ll take your word for it,” you told her, handing her another sheet of dry wipes while you took the blackened one from her hands.

“This is great,” she told you, beginning her final round of cleaning, “it makes me feel like I’m at home again. I feel like I’m a kid.”

Here’s the thing about Yuna—Her joy was contagious. When you saw that smile on her face, you couldn’t help but smile along with her. The silliest things could make her grin, and you’d end up grinning with her even though you didn’t find it amusing. You were convinced that it was a special skill of the sort. 

Yuna wiped up whatever dust she could find, leaving no stone unturned as she completed her task. It was almost closing time, a relatively slow day for the bookstore as usual. Yuna had been completing her shifts diligently, only ever disappearing for lunch and toilet breaks. 

Hell… If she wasn’t some bigshot idol, I’d have her employed full-time in a heartbeat! your uncle had told you over lunch one day. You couldn’t help but agree with him. 

“There! All clean!” Yuna exclaimed. 

“Could you show us the cloth, Yuna?” the lady producer asked her. 

For a moment, you saw a hint of annoyance behind her eyes. Then the usual, childlike wonder took its place and Yuna presented the cloth to the camera.

“Ta-da! All clean!” she beamed proudly. You politely clapped your hands in the background. The female producer gave Yuna a thumbs up before tapping the cameraman’s shoulder. “I think we can wrap up for the day.”

The two turned and walked out of the store. Yuna waited till both of them had exited before letting out a deep sigh. 

“Break from idol activities? Yea right…” she muttered, stepping off the step ladder. You stretched out your hand to take the dry wipe from Yuna. She suddenly seemed to remember that you were there, and that bright smile returned to her face. She handed you the dry wipe, all bubbly and smiley.

“I’m going to wash my hands in the bathroom, boss!” she told you. You nodded and let her go. She skipped off towards the back entrance. Your uncle walked out of the storeroom. He was drenched in sweat, his green shirt turning dark under the moisture.

“Hand me a towel would you?” he requested. You quickly walked behind the counter and tossed him his slightly moist towel. He caught it, smiled, then wiped his sweaty face.

“Who knew organising could take so much out of me?” he chuckled. He looked around. “Where’s Yuna?”

“Bathroom,” you explained. Your uncle gave you his Ah I see expression. Then he took a look at his watch. “Let’s get ready to close up shop.”

You nodded and walked over to the door. As you were about to flip the sign from “open” to “closed”, you saw Yuna walking back towards the shop. You raised an eyebrow.

Coming in from the back would’ve been much quicker…

As she got closer, you could make out the tired look on her face. Then you realised that the cameraman and the female producer were following her once more. So much for wrapping up you thought to yourself as you pushed the door open.

“Yuna!” you called to her, “come in! We’re gonna start closing up!”

The weary look disappeared in a flash. Yuna smiled from ear to ear and began jogging towards the store. You found that the cameraman and producer were far from wrapping up, following the idol back into the bookshop like chicks tailing their mother. 

“H-Hey um… Didn’t you guys say you were wrapping up?” you asked the producer. She turned and looked at you.

“We need as much content as we can get. Gotta keep going,” she told you. Then she left to catch up with the camera man. You were suddenly ill at ease. 

They continued to follow Yuna as she assisted you and your uncle in closing up the shop. They were like shadows, tailing the idol with every move she made. There was an unmistakable look of irritance on Yuna's face, but she only let it out when her back was turned to the camera. At the end of it all, the female producer made the idol shoot a thumbs up to the camera and exclaim, “Another job well done today!”. Only when they had gotten a perfect take of that did they truly cut the camera and start packing up for the day. 

“Try to be a little more energetic tomorrow,” the producer told Yuna. You were all outside the store by then. The shutter was closed and locked. The final piece of equipment had been loaded into their van.

“Got it!” Yuna beamed. The producer nodded and wordlessly got into the van with the camera man. The van pulled away, leaving the three of you to breathe in its exhaust as it became smaller and smaller.

“This street was never built for cars…” your uncle grumbled. Then he turned to Yuna and told her, “good job today. We’ll see you tomorrow!”

Yuna smiled—this time a little less bright and more weary—and bowed. “Thank you for today! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

The idol turned on her heel and walked off towards the small house that she and her members stayed in for the time being. You couldn’t help but notice the way her shoulders seemed to slump. 

“Are we overworking her?” your uncle asked. He must’ve noticed too.

“I’m not sure,” you answered, “I feel like it’s not the work…”

Your uncle raised an eyebrow. “What else could wear her out today? She’s been cleaning and stacking all day!”

You pursed your lips. Then, you turned to your uncle and said, “go home without me. I need to do something.”

You set off after the idol. She hadn’t walked too far over the course of your conversation with your uncle. You caught up to her in a matter of seconds.

“Yuna!” you called her. She turned.

“Hm?” she hummed. 

You stopped before her. “Could I… Take you somewhere?”

You only realised how weird that sounded after the last syllable left your mouth. Inwardly, you cringed and hoped to god that she didn’t find that creepy. Thankfully, she gave you a smile and said, “sure!”

You took her to the bridge where your uncle had imparted his wisdom upon you. The walk there was filled with awkward silence, only broken erratically by your comments on the different shops. In the chilly Autumn air, you walked side by side with Yuna till you reached your destination.

“Wow…” Yuna muttered as you stopped at the apex of the bridge, “this is…”

“It’s prettier in Spring,” you told her.

“I can imagine that,” she whispered. 

She placed her hands on the railings and leaned her body weight against it. You silently stood next to her, letting her take in the breathtaking scenery without disturbance. You had a hunch—The fact that cameras were always on her had been taking a toll on the idol. You figured she needed some time away from the cameras, a moment where she didn’t have to live with the fact that she was perpetually in the frame of a lens that was recording her every move. 

You didn’t know what to do when the first teardrop came rolling down her face. When her body started to shake, you started to panic internally. That wasn’t part of the agenda. You awkwardly fumbled around, patting your pockets to see if you had any tissue to give her. By the time you had pulled out the small tissue packet from your pocket, the girl was already seated on the bridge, knees tucked in and arms locked around her legs as she bawled and bawled. Awkwardly, you sat down next to her. You maintained a distance from Yuna and silently slid your tissue over to her. The last thing you wanted to do was make her feel uncomfortable in her moment of vulnerability. 

You gave her time. Breakdowns like hers would never be finished in a matter of minutes, you knew from experience. The sheer internal bedlam a human could experience under certain circumstances was no joke.

It took some time, but her shoulders eventually stopped heaving so violently, her breaths becoming more uniformed in nature. 

“I-I’m sorry… I-I just…” she started to apologise. 

“It’s… It’s alright,” you assured her, “it… It must be tough for you.”

You gestured to the packet of tissue next to her. She gratefully accepted it, pulling out a couple of pieces to dry her eyes. There were no more words spoken between the two of you, only an odd, comfortably awkward silence in the air as you both sat with your backs to the railing. Yuna sniffled intermittently, and you could hear her drawing tissues to blow her nose. 

You didn’t say anything to comfort her. But that day, you unwittingly made her start trusting you.

***

Dried apple slices. 

That’s what Yuna had bought to share with you. She’d gotten them from Miss Cho’s, and had asked to eat them with you on the bridge after your shifts had ended.

“These are so good!” she exclaimed.

“Miss Cho’s family spent lifetimes perfecting their formula. It’s gotta be good,” you told her.

Yuna squealed happily as she dug her hand into the container and pulled out yet another slice. You could pinpoint the exact moment where the flavour of Miss Cho’s apple slices burst forth in her mouth. Her wide-eyed silent glee was your indication. On the railing of the bridge you sat, side by side with the idol. There was an unexplained affinity between you two since that day she cried next to you. Your interactions in the bookstore had increased, becoming friendlier in nature. It was like something suddenly clicked between the two of you.

“Man… These things make me want to live here forever!” Yuna laughed, kicking her legs like a child as she dug her hand into the container for yet another slice. You smiled as you watched her. She seemed more carefree that day.

“You’re from the city, right?” she asked you, popping another slice into her mouth.

“Yep… I’m just staying here for a while,” you explained to her. 

“Don’t you have to search for a university?” 

You kicked your legs and sighed. “I do… But that can always wait.”

Your truth—You didn’t want to leave this town. Life was much simpler, slower. You’d originally come here to recover, hatred and bitterness brimming in your heart. Now that it had been purged from your being, you found a connection with this humble, small town. You knew that you’d eventually have to leave, go back into the hustle and bustle of the city when you got back to your life as a city boy. You dreaded the arrival of that day. 

You told this to her. A look of understanding crossed her face.

“How long have you been here?” she asked. 

“Since early Spring so… About a month now?” you replied. 

“Ah… And what’s this bitterness that you had?” she pressed. 

You took a dried apple slice and popped it into your mouth. You munched on it a little before replying, “I had to recover from a breakup.”

Yuna chuckled. “Ah… I suppose this place seems like a nice town to get back on your feet.”

You were glad she understood you. 

“You know… This spot is really something,” she told you, “it’s so beautiful and calming… I really gotta thank you for showing it to me.”

You waved it off. “No problem.”

Yuna folded one leg up. “I came here with the girls once after that evening. It was a good break.”

She sighed heavily. You wiped your hand on your jeans.

“It must be tiring,” you said.

“Hm?”

She turned to look at you intently. You stared at your sneakers. The once snow white shoes had been dirtied by gravel and all sorts of elements, but you didn’t really mind. 

“It must be tough living with no breaks… I imagine it can get pretty overwhelming,” you told her. Yuna stared off into the distance for a moment.

“When they told us that we would be coming here to take a break from our idol activities, I thought that we’d actually be able to rest…” she muttered, “then we saw the cameras and got handed those damn selfie sticks… That’s when I knew that we were just making more content while we’re supposedly ‘resting’.”

You could hear the spite in her voice. Your heart went out to her. 

“I hate this,” she continued, “I just want to have a moment where I’m not dancing, where I’m not singing, where I’m not being recorded by some stupid fucking camera while I keep some pretty smile on my face.”

Her truth—There were times where she wondered whether the idol life was meant for her. While they existed, she couldn’t recall the last moment where she was just Shin Yuna, a regular nineteen year old girl finding her way in life. She liked the bookstore, it made her feel human. While she was going about her tasks, the sheer monotony of it all brought some semblance of regularity into her life. For a rare moment, she wasn’t just some money making machine for a company, she was just a regular human, like you. It gave her an unexplainable joy, a joy that was quickly stripped away when she turned and saw a camera being pointed right at her.

She told you this in hew own words. You bit your bottom lip.

“But of course, I can’t let that show, can I?” she laughed bitterly, “gotta be pretty preppy princess Yuna. Can’t be angry, can’t be annoyed, allowed to cry only in concerts or in interviews… Fuck all this idol shit.”

Her life didn’t sound as great as you’d imagined. You admittedly thought that many idols lived in luxury, showered with love and attention from fans worldwide while earning big bucks doing what they always aspired to. In reality, their lives were the most cruel and unforgiving, an endless cycle of practice, classes and content. They were always being watched and monitored. They maintained a happy, cheerful image for their fans, but deep down they just want to take a break for some time before coming back to this life of theirs. It sucked. It sucked big time, but they all lived with it.

The harm that humans could bring upon each other was frightening, yet the world was as such. 

“I think you’re incredibly strong Yuna,” you voiced your sincere thoughts, “it takes a lot to be you. I don’t think many people can confidently look me in the eye and tell me that they’re fine with being watched twenty-four-seven, let alone pretend like everything is great with their life when it really isn’t.”

There was a moment of silence. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, “I… I think I really needed to hear that. You summed it up really well.”

She shot you a sincere smile. You chuckled softly and scratched the nape of your neck. There was a warm sensation on your face. 

“You’re… Welcome I guess?” you told her. She laughed at that.

“You’re funny,” she remarked, “I like your company.”

The warmth on your face was now more of a burning sensation. You looked down at your sneakers, feeling a grin plastered on your lips. Her smile was as contagious as her joy. 

“How… How long are you guys gonna be here for?” you asked her.

“I forgot... I only know that we’ll go back for Chuseok, then come back here for a few more weeks. We’ll be out of here by the middle of November if I recall correctly, then back to comeback preparation in early Winter,” she replied.

Time was a funny thing. It could go by so fast when you wanted it to be slow, but it could also drag on like a snail when you wanted it to be a rabbit. Time was a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.

In your heart, you prayed that Yuna’s time in this town wouldn’t be fleeting. In your heart, you prayed that time could show mercy on this girl.

***

Dried anchovies. 

That’s what your uncle needed from Miss Lee, the general store owner, to cook the stew for that night's dinner.  You shrugged on your jacket that evening and headed down to go buy what was needed. Mrs Lee greeted you with the usual warm smile, though you could tell that the Gopro on the counter was making her ill at ease. 

The ITZY girls were there, talking amongst themselves as a camera man and a different lady producer stood behind them. You did your best to slip by undetected, snagging the bag of dried anchovies and a bottle of water without being spotted. You didn’t know that they’d follow them till this late. 

You paid for the good and exited quietly. On the way back, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You spun around to come face to face with Yuna. 

“Hey,” she beamed. She must’ve seen you. How did she get out?

“Oh. Hey,” you smiled back. 

“Can we meet at the bridge later? I’d like to get some fresh air after my dinner,” she requested.

You smiled and agreed. You set a time, then split off in your own separate ways to go about your evenings. You couldn’t really focus on your uncle’s rambling that night, you mind drifting to Yuna’s smile while your uncle said something about the stock market. 

9pm. That was the time you’d arranged to see her. On the pretext of taking a walk, you slipped out of your uncle's house and journeyed down the street towards the bridge. She was there by the time you’d gotten there, a bright smile that could light up the darkness gracing her features when she caught sight of you. She let you walk over to her before handing you something. It felt like a stick.

“What are these?” you asked. 

“Lanterns,” she answered, turning hers on, “Chuseok is coming up. The Chinese like to carry lanterns and take walks on that day. I thought we should do something while I’m still in this town, make some memories, you know?”

The lanterns she had purchased were from Mrs Lee’s general store. Mrs Lee had always been obsessed with Chinese culture, particularly in terms of decorations and practices. She sold those lanterns all year round, even though no one really bothered to buy them.

You and Yuna walked around the town with your lanterns, talking and laughing, laughing and talking… It was a night to be alive. It was nice to see Yuna in this light. You’d grown out of your 2 dimensional perception of her, discovering the multitudes she possessed. On the surface, she was simply Shin Yuna, ITZY’s maknae and visual. Beneath that, there was Shin Yuna, the nineteen year old girl who could easily make someone smile and blush. Then beneath that was Shin Yuna, a nineteen year old girl who craved regularity, a nineteen year old girl who wanted to be momentarily freed from the glitz and glam. You were happy that she trusted you enough to be comfortable around you, and you were more than happy to have that gut feeling that she was truly being herself with you. 

“This town is amazing…” she remarked as you found yourselves before the bridge once more. You’d walked a full round around the town by then, lost in conversation as you took turns down the roads on a whim. 

“Maybe you should just move here,” you joked. 

“Oh how I wish I could!” she sighed, “everything’s so nice here… I wish I could just stay here forever…”

I wish I could stay here forever. She always had a tendency to say that. While working in the bookstore, she’d let it slip. When you were talking with her on the bridge, she’d say it at least once. She struck you as someone who was vocal with their opinions, someone who would freely speak her mind if she could. You enjoyed listening to her long, rambling talks about her various life stories. Though you could never bear to listen to such rants from your uncle, you found hers enjoyable to listen to. There was a certain way she drew you in with her voice, your attention becoming captive to her tone and intonation while she went on and on… 

When you parted ways with her that night, you found that you wanted her to stay and talk with you a little longer. Of course, you never vocalised this desire. She’d already broken rules to come out and see you that night, the last thing you wanted was to get her in trouble. 

As you walked home with your lantern that night, you wondered what it would be like to date a girl like Yuna.

***

Drier air.

That’s what you felt had changed that late October morning when you stepped out of your uncle’s house. 

“Aish… Winter is coming already,” your uncle grumbled, “time passes so fast these days… I ought to keep a better track of it.”

It was Yuna’s final weekend in the town. She was due to leave by Tuesday next week. As expected, Midzys showed up in front of the door, prompting your uncle and you to wrap around to the back entrance, where Yuna was waiting. The female producer and the cameraman were right there with her, asking the idol some questions in front of the backdoor as you and your uncle approached. Her eyes seemed to light up upon the sight of you, the smile on her face growing wider as she waved to you. 

“Yuna, focus on the interview,” the producer reminded her sternly. She quickly set her gaze back on the camera. Your uncle waited patiently for them to wrap up with their questions before opening the backdoor to the bookshop. As you walked in, Yuna walked up to your right and whispered right into your ear.  “10pm. Bridge. Don’t be late.”

You’d never wanted a shift to end so badly.

That night, you met her at your usual haunt. Her smile—Usually brimming with joy—was noticeably sadder, dimmer under the moon’s beam. It felt hard to accept that her time in this town was running thin. You wished that there was a way to extend your fleeting time with this woman, find a way to make some more memories with her. Alas, time could only move forward at a rate unknown to you. Autumn was slowly becoming Winter, and Yuna would soon be gone from this town. Every moment was now more precious than ever.

The truth you kept to yourself—Though your heart fluttered around her, you knew that you and her could only remain in this stage of friendship. Progressing forward to a new stage of a relationship would be hard. You could only hold on to her as a friend, hoping that she wouldn’t forget you when she returned back to the big city. 

The two of you stayed out late that night, eating dried fruits from Miss Cho’s and drinking some Makgeolli that Yuna had bought and snuck out. 

“My last day as a human,” she told you that night while cracking open the bottle, “then it’s back to being a doll…”

Human… Why could she never seem to prove to everyone else that she was human as well? The fame, the shining lights, the pedestal that she’d been placed on… They all created a false image for her. It brought forth a notion—She was privileged, someone who could receive the attention of fans and brands alike. There was no room for blemishes, her body “perfect” and her personality flawless. She had to accept all that, live with it without a fuss or hassle. 

When she rambled about this, tears flowed freely from her eyes—Years of pent up anger, sentiments of unfairness and many other emotions coming forth in moonlit steaks that ran down her face. You poured her another glass of Makgeolli. She tossed it back to soothe the pain.

“You know… I always feel so comfortable with you,” she whispered, “it’s like I’m talking to an old friend… Someone who actually understands me.”

Under the stars that night, the two of you admittedly got a little tipsy on the bridge. Under the stars that night, Yuna had let slip her true feelings towards you. Under the stars that night, you two shared a kiss, one that would change the complexity of your relationship, spurred by the raw emotions of the night that had manifested through the catalyst that was alcohol. 

As your fingers ran through her hair and her hands held on to your waist, she leaned on your shoulder and whispered some words into your ear. They weren’t words that you wanted to hear, but you knew that you’d just have to accept them.

It pained the both of you to know that you could never truly love each other the way you wanted to. The expectations of her company and of society set a boundary, one that kept you two so far yet so close. While you saw her as a regular human, she still had to abide by the rules and regulations of the company that controlled her. Those rules defined her, the regulations moulding her into something no longer human. It made her life strict and unforgiving. 

She was like an unwilling puppet, trying in vain to resist the commands of those who had power over her. A sisyphean task it proved to be. 

To them, she was an idol. And according to them—Idols and humans were not to love each other.

***

Dried flowers

That was what you held behind your back that morning where you saw the ITZY girls off. You and your uncle waited outside the house they stayed in, dried flowers tucked away behind you. Then they came out. The five of them, rolling out their luggages, dressed warmly to combat the rapidly dropping temperature. She caught sight of you. A sad, warm, gentle smile crossed her face. The bosses of the shops that the girls had worked for respectively had all come to bid farewell to them, giving you some time to talk to her one last time. The goodbyes were tearful, full of hugs and “I’ll miss you”s. Yuna gave your uncle a hug, then she turned to you. Surprisingly, neither of you shed a tear as you stared at each other. 

You produced the dried flowers that you’d gotten from the florist and presented them to her. 

“They’re beautiful,” she whispered as she accepted them. 

“Glad you like them,” you replied, “try and keep them alive okay?”

She stared up at you for a moment. 

When the first teardrop rolled down her face, you didn’t hesitate to pull her into a hug. She cried into your chest, a million and one apologies bursting forth as she held you tight. It was as if it was her fault that the two of you could not start a proper relationship. It was as if you’d disappear if she didn’t hold you as tight as she could. 

When it was time to go, you dried her eyes to the best of your ability. She gripped the dried flowers tight, a grim look on her face as she said, “I’ll take some time to think about us… When we meet again, I’ll tell you what you mean to me. We can go off from there.”

You smiled. “Alright then, I’ll wait.”

She fiddled with the wrapping of the dried flowers.

“Till then,” Yuna requested, “could I be selfish and ask you to hold on to these feelings?”

You smiled and assured her that you’d try to. When we meet again, I’ll let you decide if we should kiss or not, she told you. 

In the cold morning air, you made a then-and-there decision to share one last kiss with her, not caring about the fact that staff and her other members were present at the scene. As the van took her away from the town, your uncle placed a firm hand on your shoulder.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked you. 

You wiped a tear from your eye and whispered, “I hope those dried flowers won’t die as quickly as they did last time.”

***

The cold snap hit when you came back to the town. A fresh, fluffy and thick sheet of snow covered the streets. Your boots made a satisfying crunch with each step you took, the frigid winter air biting your face as you hurried towards the bookstore. All around you, people walked up and down the street. City people—you recognised their accents. 

You found it hard to adjust back to life in the city. The roar of the traffic was jarring, making you yearn for the quiet of the town streets. The pavements were jam packed with people, making you long to return to the empty streets of your uncle's humble town. The subway was packed like sardines, making you think about the times where you could get to wherever you wanted on foot. It was safe to say that you had some forms of withdrawal symptoms, but you eventually got over it. Then university came. The workload was immense, the readings mountainous. It took you some time to figure out a way to efficiently cover all the content you needed to, but you eventually found your footing. You were in your last year now. Time was truly so fleeting, a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.

Now that you were back in this familiar place, a sense of comfort filled your being. Not much had changed over the course of your four year absence. Aside from the fresh coats of paint and increase in tourists, everything was just as they were when you left. 

The bookshop was teeming with life when you entered. You were pleasantly surprised. You remembered your uncle telling you about how good the winter crowds were, but you ever imagined it to be this good. You hurriedly removed your scarf and coat before approaching the counter. There, your uncle was busy packing book after book into paper bags. You hung your coat on the coat rack and grabbed an apron. 

“I’m back,” you said, taking your place next to your relative. Your uncle cast a glance towards you. 

“I’ll greet you later. Busy now,” he mumbled. You chuckled and tied the strings of your apron behind your back. 

It didn’t take long before you settled back into that old rhythm—Open, pack, take the bills. Open, pack, take the bills. It brought an odd sense of joy into your heart. You’d missed the monotony of this life. 

The bookstore closed a little later that day. You waited till the last customer had slipped out into the cold evening air to flip the sign from “open” to “closed”. Then you shut the door behind you.

“I should really employ a part timer,” your uncle mused. He beat his lower back with a clenched fist. “The crowds are only growing these days… I’ll need some help.”

Then he waddled over you. With a warm smile, your uncle pulled you into a warm embrace. 

“Welcome back, nephew. It’s good to see you again.”

You hugged him back. The usual old people's statements ensued—How have you been? You’ve grown taller! Jeez… You’ve gotten a little more plump! Have you been eating well? The same old questions were hurled at you. You were happy to answer them all. 

You helped your uncle close up shop for the day. To celebrate your return, he took you down to Mrs Han’s to have a barbeque. The restaurant owner greeted you with her wrinkly, warm smile and welcomed you back to town. The meat was fresh, well marbled and tender. Freshly imported Mrs Han had told you, they just came in today! You came back at the right time!

It was safe to say that your belly was filled that night. Mrs Han had kindly put the cost of the meal on the house, and your uncle hurried you out of the restaurant when you insisted on paying. 

“It’s rare for her to be this generous. Accept it while you can,” he told you. You rolled your eyes. He was as thrifty as always. 

Your uncle took you to the bridge that night. Proper lighting had been installed on it, small yet powerful lamps illuminating the path as you and your uncle stood side by side on the apex of the bridge. The river was frozen over, the trees around it bald and bare. 

“You should’ve came back in the spring,” he remarked, “there were more flowers this time. It was beautiful.”

“I can imagine that,” you replied. 

Your uncle sighed heavily, a sizable cloud forming before his face. “You know… She came back this spring.”

“Is that so?” you replied alarmingly calmly. Your voice betrayed your emotions. It felt like a small ball was caught in your throat. “How is she?”

“She seems alright, definitely grew a few centimetres,” he told you. 

“Is she healthy?” you pressed. 

“She definitely looked a little more plump in the face. She’s seemed a lot stronger,” your uncle replied.

Silence hung between the two of you. Then your uncle inquired, “You never managed to see her in the city, did you?”

You lowered your gaze to the frozen water. 

“No…” you grimaced, “I… I could never find a way to see her.”

The truth—It felt like fate was against you. You could never secure a ticket to any of her performances, nor could you ever get into any of her fanmeets—Online and physical. You never expected that you’d face such difficulty in trying to see Yuna, but you persevered nonetheless. When the university workload came in however, you found your free time had been stripped from you, tossed out to the wind as assignment after assignment plagued your days. Yuna couldn’t be your top priority no matter how much you wanted her to be. You didn’t know why the idea of getting her phone number never crossed your mind while she was with you. Then again, exchanging phone numbers could have landed her in trouble…

You told this to your uncle. He nodded silently.

“I guess we were never meant to be a thing,” you whispered dejectedly, “I was a fool to hold on to those memories”

Your uncle sighed and patted your shoulder. “Some memories never heal. Rather than fading with the passage of time, those memories become the only things that are left behind when all else is abraded…”

“Han Kang,” you muttered. It was one of the quotes from her book Human Acts. You had a paper on that book coming next term. Your time at the bookstore made you discover your love for books, hence you pursued a degree in Literature in university. 

“You remember,” your uncle chuckled. It was one of the first books that he’d made you read. “Your memory serves you well, nephew.”

The quote he’d recited could be interpreted in many ways. In the context of the book, the protagonist spoke of their memories in the bloody Gwangju massacre in 1981. The sights, sounds and horrors left them scarred for life, so scarred that they’d take them to the grave—hence the usage of heal in memories never heal. Healing meant forgetting.

For you, healing meant forgetting too. The only difference—You didn’t want to heal. You wanted to keep those memories carved into your brain, make them a permanent part of your being. You wanted to ingrain that smile in your vision, keep that voice playing on loop in your ears. You were more than willing to take those memories to your grave. 

“First a breakup, now this,” you muttered, “am I not built for love, uncle?”

“Everyone is built for love,” came his instant reply, “it’s just a matter of finding the right person to receive love from.”

The right person… 

Your parents were meant to follow you on this visit back to the town, but last minute work held them up in the city. They’d found an Airbnb house in the town for the three of you, but now you had it to yourself. As you laid down on the bed, you found that the silence was deafening.

Silently, you wondered what’d be like to date a girl like Yuna. She felt like the right person.

Maybe all of those emotions were just teen hormones. Maybe the feelings were just bright out in the heat of the moment. Maybe you didn’t actually love her, maybe it was more of an infatuation. It all sounded logical and reasonable to you. 

Yet when you saw her again, all of that no longer seemed to make sense. 

There she stood in the cold winter morning, scarf around her neck and a pair of earmuffs atop her head. In her gloved hands, a bright pink tote bag, a bouquet of flowers sticking out from the opening. She stood before the store, staring at the closed shutter, mouth parted ever so slightly. Her hair—Red when you first saw her—Had been returned to its natural colour. She was as beautiful as the day you said goodbye to her. 

You swore that your eyes were deceiving you. When she turned her head, you were convinced that her jaw dropped open as wide as yours when the two of you locked eyes.

Then in the next moment, she was in your arms. She had her ear pressed to the left side of your chest, as if she needed to hear your heartbeat to verify that you were truly there.

“Hey,” was all you could manage.

“Hi,” she whispered back, “it’s been awhile.”

Her eyes gleamed with the same childlike wonder. Her smile was as genuine as you’d remembered. You wanted to kiss her to see if her lips would feel the same, but…

When we meet again, I’ll tell you what you mean to me. We can go off from there…

She did give you the freedom of choice to kiss her when you reunited, but you decided against it.

Catchup was done in the warm respite of the bookstore. With aprons adorning your bodies, you filled each other in on what you’d missed in each other's lives. This was all done to the backdrop of filling in shelves and rearranging stacks of books. Lunch came and your uncle left the two of you on your own. You got some tteokbokki with her from Mrs Han’s—to go of course—and hit your old spot. 

“Even without the leaves, this place is still so stunning,” she mused, staring out at the frozen water.

“I still prefer it in Spring,” you told her, “I like it better when the trees are less… Bald.”

She laughed at that. 

When the sun started to set on the small town, your uncle made the executive decision to close up early. The sun may be gone, but the night is young he told you with a wink. You gave him a grateful smile and took off your apron. He let the two of you go off early that day.

Dinner that night was once again at Mrs Han’s, and she wasn’t so generous that night.  A walk around town was what she asked for afterwards, both of your footsteps seemingly synchronised to produce rhythmic crunches in the snow. At one point, she’d stopped walking to gather up a handful of snow, forming a hefty snowball to chuck at you. You didn’t hesitate to fight back. 

“University sounds tough,” she mused, munching on some grapes from Miss Cho’s.

“I think it’s just my course,” you remarked, “the rest of my batchmates seem to be having a relatively good time.”

“Literature is demanding,” she agreed, “but what do you wanna do with it in the future?”

You sighed and shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, “I’m still figuring that out…”

“Maybe you can become a writer,” she suggested, “write some screenplay… Make it different from the usual stuff.”

“I’d probably need to save up some money before I do that,” you chuckled, “I have a degree that guarantees a higher chance of living on the streets than living on someone’s couch.”

She laughed at that too. Then she said, “hey, maybe you should come work for my company when you’re done with university. That way, we can see each other more often too.”

You chuckled. “That’s a possibility… I’ll try and keep that in mind.”

“I’ll make sure to vouch for you,” she declared, “the big boss likes me enough to listen to me…”

You laughed and nodded. Silence hung between you two. 

Then it was time for the hard question. 

“So are you seeing anyone?” you asked her. Yuna licked a grape seed off her lips before answering.

“I’d like to think so…”

Your heart sank, but you still cocked your head in feigned curiosity, “oh? What do you mean?”

Yuna bit down on her lip. “I mean… I like him, but I’m not sure if he still likes me.”

“Ah,” you mused.

“Yea…” Yuna sighed. She looked up at you and asked, “what about you?”

You took a moment to formulate an answer. “I think… I’m just waiting for love as of now.”

“Ah,” Yuna parroted, “well… I wish you the best in that then.”

There was a sudden tension in the air. It was like your respective cryptic messages had conjured a rubber band of the mind, pulling it out to its maximum length as you continued your silent journey down the street.  Perhaps your hopes were set a little too high—You’d expected her to remember the love that existed four years ago, run back into your open arms so that you could shower her with kisses. But you’d forgotten—No… Chose to forget what she’d told you on the bridge that night. 

I love you. I know that it’s too late for this, but I love you. I’m sorry we can’t love in the same way others do, but do know that deep down, I wish to love you in the same manner that you love me. It’s confusing, I know… But my life doesn’t allow us to share the life we want to. I’m sorry.

It was a painful thing to hear, but you still kissed her right afterwards, and you still kissed her the morning after. You now realised that perchance, you’d gambled a little too much, gone all in with the chips of your heart only to lose. You didn’t understand why she couldn’t date freely, be with someone that truly made her happy. She was a human, a human deserved to give love and be loved.

She got a call a few minutes later. It’s my manager. I gotta go now. 

She gave you a small wave, handed you the last few grapes from the container. Then, with a it was nice seeing you again, Yuna turned on her heel and walked off. The grapes felt oddly heavy in your hands. Again, she was to disappear from your life. Like grains of stars in an infinitely expanding galaxy, she spilled through the gaps between your fingers once more. This felt like a scenario you’d read in books a thousand times over, and frankly, it sucked.

But happiness is being able to hope, however faintly, for happiness. So, at least, we must believe if we are to live in the world of today. 

Osamu Dazai had said that. You weren’t sure why you thought of it as you watched her back get smaller and smaller by the second. 

Hoping faintly for happiness? Is that what I’m meant to do? You asked yourself. She was getting further by the second. Hoping faintly for a chance that she’d turn back, you stood there. She never did.

Hoping faintly…

No. You wouldn’t settle for that. 

The grapes fell from your hands as you ran towards the girl that you’d so hoped to see again. Four long years you’d tried and failed. Now, with the opportunity right in your grasp, you were certain that you had to make something out of it. 

In three more bounds, you were right behind her. Yuna you called, grabbing her by the shoulder. You didn’t give her time to say anything before you turned her around and planted your lips on hers. She yelped, her body tensing as you held her cheeks in the cradle of your palms. 

A quiet smack resonated when your lips parted. Yuna trembled in your grasp, teary eyes gazing into yours. 

“I’ve been waiting for your love Yuna,” you admitted to her, “for four years, I tried to see you again but I just never could. We said that we wanted to sort out what we meant to each other when we met again, but we failed to do that today. Tell me Yuna—What am I to you?”

She let out a shuddery breath, the smell of grapes saturating the air. 

“I-I have to go,” she muttered.

You were tired of waiting.

“Yuna please,” you begged.

She looked away, as if contemplating if she should give you her answer.

“You… You are who I want to love,” she whispered, “I-I thought that… Maybe I was too selfish to ask you to keep loving me for all these years. I-I guess I didn’t expect this selfishness to be rewarded.”

“It isn’t selfish,” you corrected her, “it’s… It’s human Yuna. The desire to want someone to keep loving you, that’s human.”

Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. “Right… I can only feel like a human when I’m with you.”

Suddenly, nothing else in the world seemed to matter. You pulled her in once more, holding her as tight as she did on the day she left your life. You kissed her, tender and passionate as she gripped the fabric of your jacket. Her perfume was sickly sweet, intoxicating and lulling you deeper into her body as she reciprocated the kiss. Her hair, cold and slightly damp from the snowball you threw at her, was silky, smooth to run your fingers through. The repeated dying of it had definitely affected its quality, but only in the slightest.

Her voice was strained when your lips parted, but you could clearly make out what she’d said. 

I don’t want to go back tonight. I want to be here with you. 

When the first teardrop rolled down her cheek, you didn’t hesitate to wipe it away. 

“You’d be breaking some rules won’t you?” you questioned.

“I’ve broken them before. I can always break them again,” she replied, “humans were made to break some rules after all…”

With a smile, you let your hand slip into hers. It was warm, just like any other human. In her eyes, there was a gleam that every other human could possess. In her smile, there was a sincerity and joy that any other human could show. Sure, the Dispatch article that posted the photo of you kissing Yuna did call it the unexpected relationship between a top idol and a civilian. 

But in your eyes, Yuna was as human as anyone could ever be.

Dried things and humanity—An unlikely combination for a love story, but it was certainly fit to start the first chapter of your story with Yuna.

_______________________

Hello! A rare, smutless Yuna fic has mad its way onto my blog. I know it'll disappoint a lot of you guys, but this is what I wanted to write, so here we are. Hope you guys enjoy this one. Take a break from the horny and have some simple love <;3.

~Lots of love, Nichuuu

[yokohamapound]

This is very silly - but what would the reactions be of the ADA to you, a friend, abruptly crashing through the ceiling?

“Hey, Ron.” “Hey, Billy.”

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Kunikida Doppo, Nakajima Atsushi, Izumi Kyouka, Tanizaki Jun'ichirou, Edogawa Ranpo, Yosano Akiko, Fukuzawa Yukichi

Contents: gn! reader, falling through ceilings

Dazai Osamu

Dazai does a credible job of masking any surprise when you come collapsing through the ceiling. Do you know why? Because he isn’t surprised at all. He’s sitting on one of the green couches in the reception area, his headphones cupped over his ears, when the ceiling splits open and dumps you into the office.

His eyes flicker open briefly as your form rushes past him to tumble to the floor at his feet in a cascade of insulation and plaster. 

You’ll never know whether or not he deliberately loosened that board in the loft before he sent you rooting around up there for whatever obscure object he wanted from storage, but you have your suspicions, and he knows you have your suspicions. 

“Nice of you to drop in. The vacuum’s around here somewhere. Best not leave that mess or Kunikida will go through the roof, and then we’ll have a skylight.”

Kunikida Doppo

Kunikida is just trying to get through his day, to follow his schedule, and make sure that all his paperwork is filled out correctly and on time.

Imagine his despair when you crash through the ceiling tiles and land on his desk. He stiffens, then expels a deep, bone weary sigh as plaster dust settles on his shoulders and hair, making him look like he’s turning prematurely grey—which he might, at this rate.

He removes his glasses and takes out a small cloth to polish the dust off them, before placing them back on his face and pushing them back up the bridge of his nose with his fingertips.

“I presume you’re not injured?” When you assure him that you’re winded but nothing’s broken, he nods. “I’m going to have to fill out another purchase order for building repairs. I really don’t have time for this.”

Nakajima Atsushi

Poor Atsushi. He’s just minding his own business when you come crashing through into the office. His jaw falls open, but he’s only shocked for a moment. His hero complex kicks in and he throws himself forward, slamming into the ground a moment before you do and letting his own body break your fall. 

Martyr much, Atsushi?

“Are you okay?” he babbles, when you roll off him. 

He’s fussing like an old woman, trying to pat you down to make sure nothing is broken. 

“Do you need to go to the hospital? What happened?!”

Yosano Akiko

Yosano’s been with the Armed Detective Agency for long enough that she’s seen almost everything in her time. You stepping on a busted floor panel up in the lift and falling ass-over-teakettle through the ceiling?

No biggie.

She emerges from her medical room, already snapping on a pair of latex gloves with alarming efficiency. Her eyes glint.

“Oh, dear. That looks like it hurts. Shall I make it better?”

“No! No, I’m fine, just winded!”

“Now, now, you might have broken something…”

Izumi Kyouka

For all her apparently stoic, emotionless demeanour, Kyouka hasn’t lost her startle reflex. When you come tumbling in from the loft, she immediately suspects it is some kind of targeted attack from the Port Mafia, the Guild, the Rats in the Hall of the Dead, the Hunting Dogs (dude, the ADA has got to up their life-insurance policies), or even some new threat.

She launches Demon Snow into attack mode, only to realise it’s you face-planting amidst a snowdrift of broken plaster and crap from storage. 

“...”

Kyouka stares at you.

“You should be more careful.”

Gee, thanks, Kyouka.

Edogawa Ranpo

Ranpo’s been waiting for this to happen to someone ever since he noticed the hairline crack running along the ceiling plaster. The second he heard someone tell you to go upstairs and rummage through those boxes of old files, he’s been counting down the moments.

“Five, four, three, two, one…”

On cue, you come tumbling down from the attic. 

He pops a chocolate truffle into his mouth and looks over at you from his desk, where he’s lounging back in his chair with his feet up on the wooden surface. 

“Hey, now you’re down here, could you get me a soda?”

Tanizaki Jun’ichirou

It takes Tanizaki a little while to notice the ceiling bulging. He yelps when you come tumbling through, scattering paperwork and Naomi and pens everywhere.

Another graduate from the School of Martyrdom, Tanizaki’s solution is to fling himself forward to try and catch you. With mostly ends up with getting in your way and sending you to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Naomi, seeing this, immediately rushes up to the attic to have her turn. 

Fukuzawa Yukichi

I don’t know why, but I feel like Fukuzawa is highly attuned to the sounds around him, down to the vibration of the air. He’ll feel a disturbance (in the Force) before the ceiling cracks open. Perhaps a few grains of plaster dust will trickle down and alert him to the impending disaster.

His head jerks up. He knows you were sent up into the loft/attic of the office building on some errand. It doesn’t take even his honed instincts to put two and two together.

In a blur of motion, surprisingly fast for a man of his years, he springs forward and extends his arms, snatching you from mid-fall before you can splat on the office floorboards. He holds you aloft, a stoic expression on his face as a piece of ceiling tile lands on his head and cracks apart.

“Are you well?” he asks, stern, followed by: “Did I not tell you to watch your step up there?” 

[acti-veg]

What’s you thoughts on what happen to Laika

I think that Laika was yet another victim of horrific animal experimentation, whose needless death was no more or less remarkable than any of the others. She died a horrible and slow death of overheating while under extreme stress, something the scientists who sent her to die knew was likely to happen.

After the Soviet Union had lied about it for years in their propaganda, in 2002, Russian scientist Dimitri Malashenkov revealed that Laika had survived only about five to seven hours after liftoff before dying of overheating and panic. It was belatedly made known that Laika’s pulse rate tripled during takeoff and only came down somewhat during weightlessness.

This wasn’t a test of how the body responds to overheating in space that would at least yield useful data to prevent future deaths. Laika didn’t ensure the survival of future dogs, who had to endure the same stress. This happened because The Soviet scientists had insufficient time to perfect life-support systems, due to political pressure to launch in time for the celebration of the 40th anniversary of the Bolshevik Revolution. That is what she died for.

This was not a noble sacrifice worthy of celebration, it was an unimaginably stressed out dog cruelly sent to her death because her captors believed that animals are expendable, and that it is perfectly acceptable for them to suffer in order to serve frivolous human interests. This is unfortunately a sentiment that many people still agree with. I constantly see her death being glorified on Tumblr, as well as the repetition of literal state propaganda; all because it makes for a nicer story than the truth.

[katsukikisses]

birds of a feather: chapter one [hawks x reader]

chapter summary: despite being across-the-street neighbors for a year, you and takami keigo have never spoken. today, with the assistance of an unfortunate thunderstorm, that changes.

chapter tags: childhood friends; neighbors trope; alternating povs; conveniently timed thunderstorms and even more conveniently lost keys.

cw: potentially neglectful parenting

prefer to read on ao3? here!

table of contents | next chapter

“Yours is the first face that I saw, Think I was blind before I met you." — Bright Eyes, First Day of My Life

Keigo’s mother didn’t like him talking to the human kids. 

She never said it outright, but he could tell she wasn’t a fan of his friendships with them. She would furrow her brow whenever he mentioned a human classmate, or tap her foot anxiously when he took too long saying goodbye at the bus stop. Of course, interacting with humans was inevitable in Kyushu, where they comprised the majority of the population. But just because you can’t avoid them at school, his mother would tell him, doesn’t mean you need to bring them home. Do you understand? 

Keigo understood perfectly. His mom was subtly enforcing a “no shop talk” policy—with “shop” referring to “humans”, clearly. He didn’t mind this too much, considering his friendships with his human classmates were largely confined to the bounds of their school. He never went to any of their houses and they certainly didn’t come to his—Keigo was not one of those boys who liked to disobey their mothers. 

There was one thing that threatened the sanctity of the no shop talk policy, though: their next-door neighbors, the LNs. Consisting of LN Akemi and Hikaru, their seven-year-old child, and the family dog, Keigo thought the LNs looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. They were nice, normal, and human —everything Keigo and his mother weren’t. 

They were also, annoyingly, hellbent on befriending Keigo and his mother. When they first moved into the neighborhood a year ago, they’d sent you, their child, over with a tray of baked goods and an invitation to dinner. Keigo’s mother had graciously declined, citing her busy work schedule, but Akemi and Hikaru didn’t stop trying. To this day, whenever Keigo would run into them in the street, they hounded him relentlessly about coming over for tea, meeting up for dinner, or—worst of all—arranging a playdate between you and him.

“We promise she doesn’t bite,” your mother told Keigo once, when she’d caught him on his way to the park. “You guys are the same age, and you’re already at the same school—wouldn’t it be nice to have a friend in your class?”

She’d looked at him hopefully, as if his response would make or break her day. Keigo felt bad about declining, again. 

“Sorry, LN-san,” Keigo had responded, and quickly made up some excuse about being busy or going out of town that day. “Maybe next time, though.”

It wasn't as though Keigo disliked you—he didn’t know you well enough to pass judgment on that. He simply understood how important it was to his mother that they keep humans out of their lives. That was why, whenever he saw you crop up in the window opposite his house every day, despondently watching the other kids playing in the street, he resisted the urge to go over and take LN-san up on her offer. 

Instead, he closed the blinds and turned away.

Your mother wished you would try harder to befriend the Takami boy. 

You knew this because she voiced it frequently: at the dinner table, in the car, and especially whenever she caught you sitting by the window. 

“Really?” she would say, exasperated, before launching into a lecture about your lack of social skills. You’d usually tune her out, having heard the speech enough times to recite it from memory. It always followed the same script: she wanted you to stop staring out the window like a bedridden patient, to go out and play with the kids on your street—maybe invite one over for dinner. She wanted you to make a friend.

Well, that’s easier said than done. And it’s not as if you’ve never tried —in fact, you think you’ve tried harder to make friends than any other seven-year-old alive. You lent pencils to your table mates and didn’t mind when they didn’t give them back. You always packed an extra bento in case someone wanted to share and did your best to contribute to lunchtime conversations. You were even content being the dog in a game of House. But despite all your efforts, no one seemed all too eager to play with you, and they certainly never invited you back for a second round of make-believe. After a while, you got tired of rejection, and it became easier to stop trying altogether.

Of course, if you made any of these points to your mother, she would only bring up Keigo in response. So what if the kids at school take longer to warm up to? you could practically hear her say, You have a built-in best friend right across the street! Never mind that Keigo was one of the kids at school and never bothered to seek you out, either. He had his own friends: a rambunctious, mischievous group of boys who liked to chase girls and argue with teachers. And although Keigo himself never partook in his friends’ antics, he somehow got in the most trouble out of all of them. You suspect it was his eyes, naturally lidded, which gave the impression that he was bored or impudent—something no teacher would take kindly to. You didn’t feel too bad for him, though, considering he always managed to get off the hook with just a tilt of the head and a pretty smile…

You furiously shook your head, clearing your mind of any thoughts of Keigo. You didn’t know why you were thinking about his eyes or his smile, seeing as he practically refused to acknowledge you as neighbors, much less as classmates. That, in your eyes, made him just as bad as the other kids at school. 

Reminded of your sad social situation, you turned to face the window, ready to resume people-watching. All that faced you, however, was an empty street. Looking up, you spotted dark, heavy thunderclouds rolling in from the distance, and quickly surmised that everyone’s parents had probably called them home before the storm. You sighed, disappointed. Guess I won't be having fun watching other people have fun, today. 

You were about to climb down from your window perch—a small nook in the wall that doubled as your lookout point—when you spotted a flash of yellow and red in your periphery. Speak of the devil, you thought wryly. Keigo was rushing down the street, no doubt trying to beat the rain. When he reached his house, he began rifling through his pockets madly, before freezing, dropping to his knees, and then upturning the doormat. His wings were raising and ruffling in a way that betrayed his agitation, and, after sprawling his hands across every inch up the mat, he rose slowly. You couldn’t make out his expression from your room, but you couldn't imagine it was a happy one. 

The wind was picking up now, and the rain clouds were practically on top of you. Glancing back down at Keigo, you saw that he was attempting to squeeze himself under the sliver of roof hanging off the house. His wings were raised protectively over his head, as if they could shield him from lightning bolts. 

Yeah, he would definitely die out there. 

Without another thought, you jumped down from your perch and ran out of your room. You rushed down the steps, taking them two at a time, until you reached the foyer and threw open the front door. 

“Hey!” you shouted across the street. You had to raise your voice substantially to be heard over the howling wind. “Come inside!”

Keigo looked over at you, brows furrowed. “What?” he yelled back.

“Come inside my house!” you repeated, “There’s a storm coming!”

Mentally, you berated yourself. He could clearly see it was storming—it was why he was camped out in front of his own house in the first place! Why couldn’t you think of something more clever to say? 

“No, thanks,” Keigo hollered, “I’m good out here.” 

Well, perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered how articulately you’d phrased your invite—even when you were trying to save their lives, people weren’t interested in spending time with you. Still, you couldn’t just leave Keigo out there. 

“Just come in!” you shouted, getting frustrated, “You are not okay out there!”

As if to prove your point, rain began falling from the sky in heavy sheets. Keigo was soaked within seconds, and even you were getting splashed from your doorway. 

Keigo looked hesitantly at his house, then toward the sky—which was only spewing out more rain—and then at you, across the street. A crack of thunder in the distance finalized his decision. With one last backward glance, Keigo rushed across the street, his wings flapping lightly behind him. As soon as he made it through the doorway, you slammed the door shut behind him. 

“Um…thank you.”

You turned to face the boy standing in your foyer. While running across the street, Keigo had only gotten further drenched, and water was quickly collecting in a small puddle around his feet. His hair, usually golden and fluffy-looking, was now plastered to his forehead in a brown clump, and his wings drooped with the weight of the water. 

“You’re welcome,” you replied stiffly. You didn’t have much practice talking to other kids your age, so you were lost on what you were supposed to say in a situation like this. The weather, you decided, was immediately out.  

Before you could humiliate yourself by blurting out something ridiculous, a violent shiver racked Keigo’s body. You realized the air conditioning was blasting his wet clothes on full force, and quickly jumped into action—he definitely wouldn’t be friends with you if you let him catch pneumonia on your watch.

“Ah, I’m sorry!” you apologized, “You must be cold. Here, follow me.” Without thinking, you grabbed Keigo’s hand and started pulling him up the steps. He briefly tensed in your hold, before relaxing and allowing himself to be guided by you. You guided him to your room where you began pulling out spare towels from your drawers and throwing them on your bed. “Use those to get dry.”

You turned around, expecting to see him toweling off, but instead, he was inspecting the posters on your wall. 

You flushed as you realized what was happening: you were having someone over for the first time, and they were judging your room. Was this a test to see if you’re cool? Would he decide if you’re worthy of being friends with after this?

Keigo noticed you watching him and pulled back from the wall. “Sorry, I was just seeing what kind of stuff you’re into.” 

“Oh,” you said awkwardly, “That’s fine.”

He grabbed the towels off the bed and quickly began drying off. He was still shivering slightly, which concerned you—your mother warned you to always dry off with a towel after getting out of the pool, lest you get sick. You anxiously wondered if too much time had passed between Keigo getting rained on and toweling off.

“So, how did you know I was locked out?” Keigo asked, dragging you out of your thoughts. 

“Oh, I saw you from the window,” you answered immediately, before realizing how creepy you sounded. “I mean, um, I was passing by the window and I happened to see you at the door, since, you know, we’re neighbors and—”

“‘S fine,” Keigo cut you off. “I know that you like to be by the window. I’ve seen you up there, sometimes.”

“Oh,” you said dumbly, “You have?”

“Yeah, you’re always watching the other kids.”

His reply elicited an embarrassed squawk from you. “I’m not watching the other kids!” you exclaimed, “I’m—I’m scouting ! I’m looking to see if anyone here is cool enough to be my friend. That’s why I have to watch them…in action.”

Keigo dragged the towel through his hair, flattening it to his forehead. He peered at you skeptically through a golden curl. “...Sure. Whatever you say.”

“It’s true!” you insisted, becoming defensive, “And it’s not like you would know, seeing as no one here’s good enough for you to play with!” 

Keigo paused at this, one hand still fisted in a towel, but you barreled on, unable to stop. “Whenever I’m watch— scouting the street, I see the way you turn down everyone’s invites. You have all these friends at school, but refuse to hang out with anyone in your neighborhood! Guess you’re just too cool for us, huh?”

(Of course, you didn’t really care whether he hung out with the kids on your street or not. You were referring more to the fact that he’d rejected every play date your mother proposed and completely ignored you at school—but he didn't need to know about that).

“I…I don’t hang out with our neighbors because my mom prefers me to go straight home after school,” Keigo spoke slowly, as if trying to choose his words carefully. “And plus, I don’t think I’d get along with them too well. We’re… different.”

At this, he switched from toweling off his hair to his wings, drawing your attention to the red plumage. They looked darker when wet, you noticed. 

“You mean, because you’re a hybrid?” you asked tentatively.

Keigo’s back stiffened, causing his wings to raise minutely. The motion sent tiny droplets of rain flying across your room. 

“Yeah, that’s what I mean,” he responded. His face was blank—too blank. “Humans and hybrids are different.” 

“How so?” you inquired, before immediately backtracking.“I mean, obviously we’re different, physically. But at the end of the day, we’re all just people.”

He fixed you with a searching look. “Are we, though?”

You were stumped. “I mean, yeah. We both eat food and breathe oxygen. We both go to school and watch TV. I don’t see how we’re that different, you and I.”

Your neighbor blinked curiously at you. The clouded sky outside did little to brighten up your room, and, against the shadowy backdrop of your curtains, Keigo’s eyes appeared luminescent. He shook out his wings—now dried—and turned away from you. 

“You watch TV?”

“Um, yeah, I do,” you replied, confused again. Was your conversation about hybrids over? Talking to Keigo was kind of hard. “Do you…want to watch something?”

Keigo turned back around to you, finally. “Sure,” his lips quirked up minutely—half of his usual smile, and even less than the kind he’d deploy to get out of trouble with teachers. Still, you’d take it. 

“Okay,” you smiled back, relieved. You led the way out of your room and into the living room. “So, we have Nickelodeon and Disney, or we can watch a movie…”

LN Akemi didn’t ask for much in life. 

Not anymore, that is. When she was younger, she wished for many things: a stable job, a beautiful house, and a lovely family. In her thirties, she acquired all those things, and believed that, at last, she could spend her wishes on superfluous and material things.

Oh, how wrong she was.

The thing no one tells you about having a child is that their problems become your problems. Now, instead of wishing for a promotion at work, Akemi found herself wishing you would recover quickly from your cold. Instead of wishing for more clients at the firm, she wished you would do well on your Geography test.

Most of all, Akemi wished you would make a friend. 

She saw the way you stared out the window: cheeks pressed against the panes, hungrily drinking in the sight of children running in the streets. As if you could live through their joy, their experiences. She saw the way you packed extra lunches and pens, returning each day with an unshared bento (yet missing stationary). She wished you wouldn’t have to look out the window. She wished you wouldn’t lose your pens. 

Akemi didn’t understand why you had such trouble making friends. She knew that all mothers tended to regard their children as perfect, but you were truly the closest thing there was. You were kind, intelligent, and funny in a way that she didn't really get—so why did none of these brats want to hang out with her child? 

Regardless of the answer, Akemi found herself making wishes for you whenever the opportunity arose. An eyelash blown off the cheek, a penny tossed in the fountain—she must’ve made hundreds by the time you hit the second grade. Which was why she couldn’t help but squeal when she returned from work one evening and found Takami Keigo sitting on the couch with you, watching a re-run of Phineas and Ferb. 

“Oh!” she dropped her grocery bags in surprise, spilling produce across the floor. “I didn’t realize you were having a friend over, dear!” 

You stuck your head over the couch and gave her a look that said, Don’t make it sound like I never have friends over. “Yeah, Keigo-kun was locked out of his house during the storm, so I invited him in.”

Akemi could've wept from joy. A blessing in disguise! 

“Hello, LN-san,” Keigo got up from the couch and bowed respectfully. Akemi almost squealed again. “I’m really grateful that LN-chan invited me over. I won’t intrude any longer, though—I’ll head home now.”

“Oh, no, honey,” Akemi quickly said, “You’re not intruding at all! Why don’t you stay for dinner? I was just about to get started.” 

“Yeah, stay for dinner,” you agreed. “Plus, didn't you say your mom's still at work? You’d be locked out, anyway.”

Keigo shrugged. “Yeah, but I can go over the fence and hang out in the backyard or something. It’s my fault for forgetting my keys.” 

Both you and your mother frowned at this, but Keigo didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he rolled up his sleeves and headed over to the kitchen, where he began gathering up Akemi’s dropped groceries. 

“Let me help you with dinner,” he insisted. 

Akemi could feel her eyes welling up. This was more than anything she could’ve ever asked for. “Oh, aren’t you just the sweetest!” she gushed, “No, that’s quite all right, dear. Please, continue watching your show.”

The young hybrid nodded at this, but continued to help her put away the groceries, anyway. Not wanting to be outdone in your home, you also meandered over to the kitchen, picking up a rogue head of broccoli along the way. 

“Keigo-kun,” you began, nervously turning over the produce in your hands, “If your mom doesn’t come back until really late, do you want to spend the night here?” 

Keigo looked conflicted. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a sleepover before—like I said, my mom doesn’t really like me going to others’ houses.”

Akemi couldn’t help but silently agree with Keigo’s mom’s decision. You never knew what could happen at a sleepover, especially as a hybrid…

“Well, we could ask her for permission,” you suggested, “Do you have her phone number?” 

Your new friend looked uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. “Um, yeah, but I don’t know if she’d be able to pick up. She’s really busy at her job.”

At this, Akemi could not help but feel a little concerned. What kind of job doesn’t allow a mother to answer a call from their child? Plus, a glance at the clock on the wall told her it was nearing eight in the evening. How long did Takami-san work for? 

“Well, why don’t we do this,” she deftly interrupted their conversation, “Keigo-kun, we’ll plan as though you’re spending the night for now. Y/N can set up sleeping bags in the living room, and I’ll go grab you a change of clothes—I believe we have some that’ll fit you nicely, from the last time my nephews visited. When your mom returns from her job, I’ll go over and explain the situation, and you can decide if you want to stay or not. Does that sound good?” 

You looked at Keigo hopefully. The hybrid turned toward you, catching the optimistic look on your face. “Sounds good,” he agreed after a moment’s hesitation.

You cheered, tossing the head of broccoli in the air in favor of dashing upstairs to find the sleeping bags. Keigo smiled, picking up the abused vegetable, and resumed helping Akemi sort through the groceries. 

“Thank you for letting me stay, LN-san,” he said earnestly. 

For the nth time that day, Akemi held back a squeal. He was just too cute! “Of course, Keigo-kun. I’m glad that you and Y/N are getting along—I told you she doesn’t bite, right?”

From upstairs, there was a heavy thump, followed by a soft “Frick!”

Keigo’s mouth quirked up in a wry smile. “Yeah, definitely no bite.”

Akemi held back a smile herself. “I better go help her wrangle the sleeping bags. Please make yourself at home here, Keigo.”

The young hybrid gave her an appreciative look, before continuing to dutifully sort through her groceries. As Akemi headed upstairs, she couldn’t help but feel deeply satisfied by the outcome of her wishes. 

Next Chapter

author's note: I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter! I've had this idea for a while so I'm excited to share it. Thank you for reading and if you enjoyed it, please let me know what you thought in the comments. Constructive criticism is always welcome :)

[darylandbethfanforever9]

My Brother's Keeper

Aemond guided Vhagar to launch herself at Meleys, praying to the seven that Aegon moved out of the way on Sunfyre. Sure enough, Aegon grasped what Aemond intended on doing and pulled Sunfyre back, as Vhagar clamped her jaws around Meleys’s neck, snarling.

Writhing in pain, Meleys screeched in agony as Sunfyre nimbly wrapped his talons into the dragon’s underbelly. Vhagar let out a triumphant roar, Sunfyre mimicking her as Meleys crashed to the ground, causing half of the castle to collapse.

Aemond was about to check on Aegon, when a shrill cry was heard and two dragons emerged from the sky. Caraxes, and Syrax had come to fight them, and he exchanged a glance with Aegon who nodded grimly, his face pale but determined.

"Dracarys, Vhagar!" Aemond instructed firmly, Vhagar roaring as she clamped her claws into Caraxes’s side. The dragon screeching in agony, as he tried to free himself but was blasted in the face with fire from Sunfyre.

'That was for my nephew, the nephew you killed just because you couldn’t kill me. You coward,' Aemond thought vengefully, gripping the reins as Daemon attempted to leap at him from Caraxes, Dark Sister gripped tightly in his hands.

Aemond knew that he didn’t have a chance to defend himself, he heard Aegon shouting frantically at him as he braced himself for the sword to pierce his eye.

"No! No, Aemond move out of the way please!" Aegon screamed terrified, he would not lose his baby brother.

With a roar of pure determination, Aegon directed Sunfyre to slam into Caraxes, knocking him away from Aemond and Vhagar. Daemon screamed in agony, as his skin was melted by the flames of Vhagar and Sunfyre.

He prayed it was enough for Aemond to kill Daemon, while he turned his attention to Rhaenyra. His half-sister looked panicked, now that Daemon wasn't protecting her and Syrax was a lazy, overfed dragon who couldn't fight.

"Dracarys, Sunfyre!" Aegon cried firmly, the golden dragon unleashing golden flames tinted with pink as they burned Syrax's wings. The dragon screaming in pain.

It is as if time has stop, everything moving at a fraction of the rate it should. Daemon has unchained himself from the saddle. He is unsheathing his sword and standing, using what is left of Caraxes's burnt wing as a stepping stone to leap from his dragon to Aemond's. Vhagar shakes hard, like a dog trying to remove a flea, but somehow he manages to keep his footing. Aemond's own hand flies to his sword, moves to pull it from the scabbard, but Daemon has launched himself at him, sword clamped between both hands and raised high above his head. The blade is aimed at his eye and for a moment, Aemond thinks it will find home. That Dark Sister will cut through his last remaining eye, ravage his skull, and leave him a limp corpse chained to his still living dragon. That this is where he will die, here and now above the keep of Rook's Rest.

But then Sunfyre is soaring in from nowhere, wings tucked in that same technique that had rocketed Caraxes across the sky, and he slams into Caraxes's side like a cannonball finding home.

Aemond gripped his sword, as he heard Daemon's screams of agony and saw the man's armor was melted into his skin. The helm having melted into his scalp, and Aemond blocked Daemon's attack, piercing the man's throat and yanking Dark Sister from him.

Daemon gurgled on his own blood, stumbling backwards as he fell off Caraxes. Aemond glancing down to see Daemon's body in the courtyard of Rook's Rest, blood pooling around his body as the body of Syrax crashed on top of him.

He quickly glanced over at Aegon, seeing that he'd taken off the helm and looked exhausted but relatively unharmed. He nodded at his brother, a smile tugging at his lips.

He was his brother's keeper.

The deaths of Daemon Targaryen and Rhaenys Targaryen sent shock waves, throughout the seven kingdoms. With two dragonriders dead and Rhaenyra captured, the blacks had lost the war.

It didn't help that the Velaryon blockade was destroyed by the fleet of the Manderlys, Sistermen, Redwynes and Farmans. The Triarchy had not hesitated in aiding the greens, if it meant destroying Corlys.

What also proved an advantage to the greens, was the marriage of Rhaena Targaryen to Aemond. Aegon and Helaena had both been aware of their brother's feelings for their cousin, and that he had wished to marry her but both Corlys and Daemon had rejected the idea.

The riverlands had quickly switched sides, with House Tully being replaced as Lord Paramount of the Riverlands. The title was instead given to the Brackens, and Aegon had severely punished the Blackwoods for desecrating septs and motherhouses.

Samwell Blackwood, his son and cousin were given the choice of the Night's Watch or execution. All three chose execution, perhaps hoping for sympathy but none was given.

Alysanne Blackwood was sent to the Silent Sisters, her face scarred by Dreamfyre's flames. Cregan Stark and his host had been killed by the Lannister forces at the Battle of the Lakeshore.

The final death blow for the blacks, was when Jacaerys and Baela in a foolish, suicidal mission attempted to rescue Rhaenyra but were shot down by scorpions. Baela was crippled by the fall, dying three days later.

A defeated Corlys accepted Aegon's terms that Rhaena would rule Driftmark with Aemond, and their daughter would marry Maelor.

Aemond cradled Aemon tenderly in his arms, as he sat by Rhaena's side. The birth had been slightly difficult with Aemond terrified that he would lose her, but she and their sons pulled through.

Aemon and Aethan Targaryen Velaryon, the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of Summerhall. He pressed a kiss to Rhaena's forehead tenderly, stroking her cheek as he saw Vhagar and Gaelithax coiling outside, a smile curving his lips.

"Are you alright?" Aegon asked quietly, sitting down next to him in a chair. Aemond nodded, as the two sat in a comfortable silence.

"Thank you, for saving me that night. You didn't have to," he said quietly, a softened expression appeared on his face. After they had won the war, Aegon had anointed Aemond as Hand of the King and squeezed his shoulder.

"Your my brother, my little brother and I'm your keeper." Aegon said firmly, Aemond smiled as he saw Aegon was holding his and Helaena's newborn son, Aerion.

Aemond was Aegon's keeper, just as he was to him.

Tag list: @arcielee @sunfyredefender77 @blackcat419 @garnetbutterflysblog @ai-megurine @gwenllian-in-the-abbey @asphodelesauvage @ai-megurine @sylasthegrim @mejcinta

[rollinouttahere-writes]

(Same Anon that messaged about the what if the straw hats had been sent to Lucky's world looking for her causing chaos) I can only imagine the immediate hug tackles and dog piles Lucky would be subjected to when she jumps outta the car to stop the straw hats and suiters from destroying the whole city I think she'll have like a group of people constantly stuck to her side for weeks after lol I hope her parent's house can house this many people I also find the idea of a feral Luffy, clinging to Lucky for days like a rabid monkey funny lmao Friend coming to visit: hey Luffy: *snarling and barking when they get too close* Friend: *screams* GET YOUR FUCKEN DOG BITCH!!! Lucky: he dont bite*says with a smile* Friend: YES HE DO BITCH!!!!!

The second that Luffy spots Lucky, he launches himself at her, tackling her to the ground and holding onto her as if she'll disappear if he isn't touching her in some way. As much as everyone wants to pile on top of her, their reign of terror has created an active war zone, so they need to get back to their world immediately because they are currently being shot at.

Once they're back in the relative safety of the One Piece world, everyone is holding onto Lucky for dear life, many of them crying. If any of the suitors try to get in on the group hug, they're getting launched off the Thousand Sunny.

A part of Lucky acknowledges that the Straw Hats' behavior is extreme and unhealthy, but as per usual, Lucky makes excuses. She rationalizes that they just missed her, that they were worried about her. It helps that Lucky feels nostalgic when Luffy is attached to her hip after this happens. It reminds her of right after Enel was defeated and he refused to be more than a foot away from her for days.

They just care about her... that's all.

[duhragonball]

Chainsaw Man ch.96-97

tfw you can't believe you ate the whole thing.

Last time, Makima defeated Chainsaw Man once and for all. She's about to savor her victory, but first she pauses to pay a visit to Flavor Country.

To be clear, Makima's goal was to secure control over the Chainsaw Devil's power. For that, she needed the Chainsaw's heart, not the version we've seen through most of this series, which was "weakened" by the merger with Denji. Makima's story is that Chainsaw is the one devil that other devils fear, because when it kills a devil, they die forever, and the thing they embody is erased from existence. Makima wants that power to alter the world for what she considers the good of humanity. Unlike other devils, Makima likes humans, although she sees us as little more than dogs. Her utopian vision isn't exactly big on free will.

But as she plans for her new life with Chainsaw, it turns out that she forgot one thing. One very important thing...

Motherfucking chainsaws.

This is awesome, because even though it doesn't make a lot of sense in the moment, it also makes all the sense in the world. That's because in the last chapter, Makima kept scolding Denji for failing to be the Chainsaw Man in the way she expected the Chainsaw Man to be. She thought he didn't "get" Chainsaw Man. She thought he wasn't worthy of being Chainsaw Man. Well it looks like he gets it pretty well from where I'm sitting.

Turns out the guy Makima defeated in Chapter 95 was a decoy. Several chapters before this, Makima was able to launch Chainsaw Man into space, and he got back down by pulling out his own heart and tossing it back to Earth, where the heart could regenerate itself a new body. Denji vaguely remembers doing this, and figured out a way to do it again here. This time, he tore off a piece of his own heart and it grew into a second body, a proxy who could fight in his place.

We saw Reze do something similar when she attacked that Public Safety facility, so maybe this is something unique to hybrids. Anyway, the important point is that while Makima was complaining about Denji's weakness, she never suspected that she was being lured into a trap.

I think Denji must have made the switch when he was covered in that pile of bad guys earlier in the fight. That way the real Denji could lay among the corpses without being noticed. Either that, or he set up the decoy from the very start, and the real Denji was better hidden than I would have imagined.

Okay, but so what? Makima's taken worse damage than this and come back from it. What was the point of setting up this whole fight just to do a single sneak attack? Well, that was no ordinary chainsaw Denji just used. He made it with Power's blood. Remember, they made a contract in that dumpster back in Chapter 91, and she gave him her blood in exchange. So I guess that means Denji could use her blood-weapon power, similar to the way Makima could use the Angel Devil's powers. Denji had to exhaust tha ability to pull this off, though, so it's not like he's got Power powers for all time.

Anyway, he sent Power's blood into Makima, where it can attack her from the inside, and apparently that's enough to slow down her regeneration and keep her in this vulnerable state.

Makima isn't impressed, since she can still recover from this, but Denji's not finished yet. No, he's only just gotten started.

We jump ahead a few hours, I think. Kishibe complains about his back, like he just helped Denji do a bunch of manual labor. There's still work to be done, but from here it's up to Denji. Kishibe is skeptical that this plan of his will work, but he wishes Denji luck and promises to return and see if Denji survives the attempt. So what the hell are they talking about? What is Denji going to do?

Well, he starts cooking dinner. He talks to Makima while he does it, and explains that while he still loves her, he can't just ignore all the people who died because of her.

All he has to do is become one with her. Are you getting the picture yet?

I don't know how long this takes, but eventually Denji meets up with Kishibe and he's got Meowy and all of Makima's dogs with him. he informs him that he ate it all, and by "it" he means Makima's body.

Kishibe still can't quite believe this actually worked, but Denji says she didn't regenerate in his stomach, or from the toilet when he pooped all those meals out. Denji believes that his intentions have a lot to do with it. He wasn't trying to murder Makima, but he became "one with her" as an act of love.

Kishibe is more practical about it, and speculates that there must have been some loophole or except in the contracts she made to empower herself. For example, she said she made a contract with the Prime Minister of Japan to transfer her own deaths onto random Japanese citizens. If the specific terms of that contract only referred to enemy attacks, then Denji might have managed to get around it with his "act of love" thing. Makima probably never imagined that someone would cook and eat her, so she never bothered to make a contract to deal with that contingency.

What Kishibe really wants to know is how Denji was able to get the drop on her like he did at the end. Kishibe's been trying to stay off her radar for a long time now, so the fact that Denji snuck up on her so easily is probably the most impressive part of this story for him.

Denji says he took a gamble, based on everything he ever heard from and about Makima. She seemed to only perceive people by scent.

And so he gambled that if Makima were in the middle of fighting a Chainsaw Man decoy, she would never notice Denji sneaking up on her until it was too late. Because she never really noticed him at all. She was only interested in the part of Denji that she could exploit for her own purposes.

I don't want to read too much into this, but this whole story feels like it was inspired by a bad breakup. You have this manipulative woman who draws people in by feigning attraction, kindness, and interest, and then once you're in her sphere of influence, she ignores and dismisses you except whenever she decides you're doing something she doesn't approve of. And in the end, no matter how badly you want to please her, no matter how much you want her, you ultimately realize that she never thought much about you at all.

While they're discussing all of this, some creepy little girl wanders over to pet one of the dogs, and when Denji tries to shoo her away, she bites his finger, and he sees her eyes look just like Makima's.

Kishibe reveals that he brought the kid with him for this meeting. She's the Control Devil, but she's not Makima anymore. He found out she was in China, so he abducted her and brought her here.

Kishibe figures that if she's left in the hands of some government, or if she's on her own, she'll eventually become just like Makima, so the best thing to do is leave her in the care of Denji, who can bring her up right. Kishibe expects to get busy soon, so he can't handle this himself. Denji tries to bow out of this responsibility, but...

... Kishibe pulls a Batman on him and vanishes without a trace. So now he's stuck with the girl, but look at her riding that dog like a horse. That's adorable. She says her name is Nayuta.

So he takes her in. They go home and eat dinner, and then they go to bed, and this looks really cute with all these dogs everywhere.

As he sleeps, Denji dreams of Pochita, and he finally gets to cuddle with him again. Pochita tells him that his dream was to get hugged, but as simple as that sounds, it was nearly impossible, because the Chainsaw Devil was too powerful and untouchable. So he became Pochita and befriended Denji, and then merged with Denji to become what they are now, and his dream has come true.

Pochita then explains that the Control Devil's dream was similar. She wanted to have equal relationships with people, but she didn't know how, because she could only experience other people through power or fear. What she wanted was like a family, and that's what led her to try to remake the world. Pochita asks Denji to fulfill that dream for the Control Devil, since she couldn't do it herself. Denji asks how, and Pochita's answer is simple:

Give her lots of hugs. D'awwwwwwww.

So where does that leave Japan? Well, there's still devils out there, and the public still needs saving, and Chainsaw Man is still a big hero to the people. Even as these panicky civilians flee, they can't stop talking about Chainsaw Man news 'n' rumors. But while they run away from the monster...

This dude stands his ground and pulls a cord in his chest. Roll credits.

I don't know, this last panel kicks a lot of ass for some reason. It really does feel like the final shot of the hero at the end of a movie about his origin story. Except I usually find those movies kind of uninspired, and yet somehow Chainsaw Man manages to pull it off. I guess it helps that this storyline has been so long, and it really feels like he earned this moment. The problem with Spider-Man doing it is that everyone kind of already knows how it'll turn out, and Spider-Man's origin doesn't take that long to tell, so there's not much suspense over whether he'll actually get good at this Spider-Man thing.

But Denji's come a long, long way in these past 97 chapters. At this point, all that's left of the main cast is himself and Kishibe, and Kishibe just left town. I guess Kobeni might get back into the Devil Hunting game, but I'm pretty sure she's done with this. So it's all up to Denji from here on, and in spite of everything, he seems to have grown into the role. He's beaten a lot of powerful devils, and he understands the importance of the work, and he has the emotional maturity to stick with it. Plus he's taking care of all those pets and Natuya, so he's more responsible than ever before. He's earned this final panel.

And yeah, that's the end of the Public Safety Arc of Chainsaw Man. There's a Part II of the series, and it looks like it's about 75 chapters or so in, but I don't want to dip into that this month, mostly because I don't think I'd have time to cover it all, but also because I'd like to wait until that arc is finished. So for now, that's it for me and Chainsaw Man.

But I'm definitely impressed with this comic. As I drew closer to the finale, I wondered how the story could get me interested in Part II, and I have to say it did a great job. Denji seems to be on his own, but he's got plenty of old business to tackle, like raising Nayuta and seeking out the Blood Devil. Plus, it's not clear just what happened to those Hybrids he fought in the last several chapters. They seemed to be unkillable, and with Makima out of the picture there's no telling what they might do next.

So I'll definitely be back for more. We'll see how things stand next year.

I kind of hope Denji doesn't eat the bad guy next time...

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Theresa Longo Fans@BarkJack_

Prince Harry is actively enjoying time in the USA despite reports he’s ‘homesick’. An exclusive source says H&M are fuming after their correspondence was not responded to promptly ahead of Trooping of the Colour!

...

They made some attempt to call text email or write and were ignored.

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The above posts suggest to me that the attempt to get attention via jam and dog biscuits was a rash response to 'being ignored'. Nachos took the photos in daylight but posted just before midnight, if my assessment of time is correct. If she went to all the attempt to make jam and dog biscuits to actually market a brand, then there would have been a similar approach to the strawberry jam 'launch'. If she simply sent the products to a friend, and is serious about launching the brand, she would have asked him to not post as the timing and the poor presentation might hurt the brand. This was an amateur and rash attempt to get attention. Her subsequent denial is pure gaslighting.

TLF isn’t a trustworthy site. None of the blind gossip accounts, websites, channels are.