#the local pet stores sell cats that have already had all that that come in from a nearby rescue

[fxckinemo]

ohhhh i want a cat so baddddd I've never gone this long without a cat in my living space. what happened to mrrow?? mrrrroow?

[hollyhomburg]

Reasons Wretched and Divine (Part 3)

↪ Genre: hybrid au, polyamory au, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, pregnancy 

↪ Pairing: dog hybrid! Namjoon x Reader x Golden Retriever! Jimin 

↪ Summary: You live on an isolated but sprawling farm with your abusive husband. But things start to change for the better when you adopt a retired police dog hybrid named Namjoon. 

↪ Tags: Mentions of psychological abuse, physical abuse, concussions, hurt/comfort, hybrid mistreatment, Jimin is a little hopeless, first time saying i love you, heavy kissing/touching over clothes, pregnancy, overprotective namjoon, romanticized farm life.

↪ Song rec: Zero o'clock ~ BTS

↪ W/c: 5.9k

🐾    PART 1   🐾   PART 2  🐾

- Taehyung’s smile, waiting to welcome any hybrid to the farm and offer them a bunk and a cup of tea or coffee, does wonders for your retention rate at the farm.

- Pretty soon more hybrids are staying more nights or asking you how long they can stay. And you always reply “as long as you need too” (though there are a few who just only stay a few days to rest and recuperate and then move on, the deer hybrids are particularly nomadic) but the bunk beds in the first finished barn fill up over the course of the first month. 

- It's you who has the idea to put up ads in newspapers and at bus stops for humans who want to help hybrids but can’t take any in. You get quite a few calls from people who have seen their neighbors beating their hybrids, or who have found injured hybrids along the road. 

- You even get a call from a hospital at one point. Pet stores call too- having picked up hybrids from the streets, or have hybrids that have grown too old- haven’t been adopted after a few months or like they call it ‘excess stock’. Even though it seems horrible to think of them that way, to most of the world hybrids are little more than possessions.  

- You and Namjoon always drive and pick whoever it is up rain or shine. You get calls in the middle of the night and have to leave immediately despite the fact that you’re getting more obviously pregnant day by day, and your baby bump fully visible to outsiders, unconcealable under all but the baggiest of shirts. 

- Namjoon’s slowly growing collection of red flannel shirts (really he only likes the red ones) is your favorite thing to raid on the days that you’re feeling particularly self-conscious about your body. And it always makes your puppy a certain kind of needy, wanting to have you close always (which is a plus, not that you’d ever tell Namjoon what his whines do to you) 

- When it comes to giving up unwanted hybrids, Very few people argue with the crazy pregnant lady and her intimidating hybrid with the scarred face. And if they do argue, a stack of money is usually enough to convince even the most reluctant of people to part with their hybrids. 

- The most you’ve ever had to pay an owner to give up their already unwanted hybrid is around 1,000 dollars, and too you- they’re worth much more than that. to see the way they change when they suddenly find themselves safe for the first time in their lives- it’s priceless to you and namjoon. 

- It breaks your heart when you take them home, and the first few days, where they watch everything like it might disappear, when they walk on eggshells of their old lives, so worried that they’re going to be thrown out. When they hoard food worried it’s going to be taken away, flinch at every raised hand. it breaks your heart, but it also makes you feel accomplished when they slowly start to heal, start to laugh louder than they ever have, start to joke and play over meal times, seak you out for a reassuring heat pet. 

- And although you hold more than a dozen certificates of ownership at a time, you’re clear to any hybrid that walks onto your property that they’re their own person, that they owe you nothing and that their freedom and autonomy will be given the second they ask for it. 

- No matter who they are or where they came from, their age, what kind of ears they have on the top of their heads, they are given a bunk, a fresh change of clothes (or two) and at least 2 meals a day. though- mealtimes are easily the hardest part of your operation and the thing that gives you the biggest headache. Making sure you’ve made enough food for everyone after the bunk beds fill up very very quickly when word starts to get around in the stray community. 

- luckily- you had the forethought to expand your kitchen, and now you have 3 ovens, a larger than average dishwasher, 2 sinks, and industrial-sized refrigerators in the cellar. Meals become the most important and most involved part of your day. You’re thankful that a few of the hybrid who has come to stay with you- particularly the cat hybrids, seems to have a knack for cooking who often let themselves into the first level of your house before the sun rises- their nocturnal inclinations useful for once.

- it’s quite the shock, the first day you walk downstairs at 6am, intent on starting breakfast, only to find 3 cat hybrids- one arrived yesterday- a middle-aged forest cat with little tufts on the end of her ears named Heesun, who is already pressing a warm cup of tea into your hands and telling you to sit down. The rest of the cats buzzing around your kitchen, the smell of frying vegetables and eggs already tickling at your nose. “are you sure you’ve got everything?” 

- “of course! when the others told me that you usually cook the food in the mornings- i didn’t think that was right you see- you’re doing so much for us here- let us do this” you watch as she divides labor, the other two cat hybrids following her lead, you ask, and the hybrid tells you she used to be a cook for the family she used to live with. you don’t ask what emancipated her out of their care, Heesun had shown up on the edge of the farm yesterday with a noticeable limp. 

- It’s not surprising to you that after a few days Heesun asks you if she can become a permanent resident of the farm. Any hybrid is free to leave when they want but most choose to stay and contribute. It’s a little surprising, the first day you walk out your front door to find one of the hybrids sweeping up some leaves, or when one of them comes to get Namjoon’s help repairing the side of one of the barns.

- At first- both of you are adamant apposed to them helping, but Taehyung helps mediate between the main house and the hybrids in the barns. And the 10 or so that have stuck around who express to you that it would make them feel more comfortable staying here if they could help out. 

- And it’s not like you don’t need the help- because really, as the population of the farm exceeds 20, you really really do. 

- They mostly run the chore system themselves, Namjoon and Taehyung keep a running list of chores that need to be done and guide a few groups in the morning that want to work. All hybrids who stay contribute in some way, Weather that is with the bunny hybrids that run around doing laundry and sweeping, and cleaning to their heart's content or the bear hybrids led by Taehyung. Everyone has their jobs. 

- You have three bear hybrids in total, Tae, a small honey-colored bear named Beomgyu, and a panda hybrid named Jackson that help you collect the honey from beehives and sell it at the farmers market. Though Taehyung manages to eat more honey than they sell somehow and is constantly scolded by both Jackson and Namjoon (Even if the beehives where his idea). Most of the time when you see him- Tae has sticky cheeks.

- But Namjoon will basically let Taehyung get away with anything, seeing as the hybrid contributes the most to making the farm run smoothly. Taehyung is always egger to help you with anything that needs to be done unable to keep still. Whether that be runs to the store with you to buy mountains of food needed to feed everyone, Coupon clipping, or the general wrangling and organization. The more technical things, like fixing up some of the other buildings, like the chicken coop and actual animal barns that have fallen into disrepair, are left mostly to namjoon. 

- You’re given nearly 30 chickens and half a dozen sheep by a local after the owners of them get too old to properly take care of them. As much as they’re a headache access to more than three dozen eggs a day helps to cut down the cost of breakfast significantly. And you’re happy with the chickens because at the very least they aerate the soil and keep it free of bugs too, even if it means you need to fence in the vegetable garden that you’re cultivating to keep them away from the tomatoes. 

- Scrambled eggs with bacon, breakfast burritos, frittatas, and fried eggs are some of your breakfast staples. And you get more than a little help from some of the hybrids who have experience in cooking during meal times to feed the nearly 50 occupants of the farm by the end of the second month. 

- You’ve accumulated a few dog hybrids as well, Wide-eyed collie Dahyun, chow-chow Yugyeom, and muscly great-dane hybrid Shownu who help Namjoon whenever something needs to be moved, as well as an assortment of rare breeds like the lone alpaca hybrid Seokjin who takes care of the sheep when you have to shear them and spin the wool into fine quality yarn. 

- Seokjin is a quiet hybrid, uncannily taciturn despite his kind face. he can often be found in the workshop at the south end of the property, his hair blonde and poofy hiding his soft pink ears. Piling the mountains of wool into vats of dyes and setting others out to dry, whistling along to the radio as he weaves it. the hybrid is quiet- and prefers his space from the bustle of the center of the property. Namjoon likes to help him when he can, and you’ve seen the way that the usually taciturn hybrid turns smiley when namjoon is around. 

- There is always someone volunteering to do the countless other little jobs and things that the hybrids do or make to help give back to you. Most of them want to do as much as they can, even though there are still days where there simply isn’t a lot of work to do outside of mealtimes. 

- At night, when you retreat to your house after dinner with Namjoon, happy for a little bit of calmness in your kitchen so late. You’ll hold his hand, let him spin you to the tune of whatever plays out of the radio, and thank him for finding you again after you disappeared into yourself for a little while after your husband's death. You don’t feel quite so sad anymore, with the hybrids here- you have a purpose again. 

- The large fortune you have from your late husband is barely dented by the start-up costs and day-to-day costs of running the farm. And since you got licensed by the state as a hybrid rehabilitation center you have no shortage of funding or generous donations by the countries rich looking to deduct from their taxes too. The same rich people that stop by in their fancy cars and barely used trucks to see the farm, often asking to adopt, as enamored with the hybrids as you are. 

- There is a long judgment period before you sign over anyone, and more than once you have declined an offer after the hybrid in question tells you they’re unsure. Sometimes there are red flags, the way the children act almost fearful, and a lack of care shown during mealtimes or something else that leads you to believe that they will be neglected. The ones you do part with give you a hug, often almost not wanting to let go, some of them choking out ‘thank you’s’ and ‘please never close’ that make every bit of effort worth it.

- You keep a logbook, of every hybrid that comes to stay and when they leave, even some come back more than once, every now and then. At the top of the page is namjoon’s signature, and next is taehyungs, and then on and on. you fill up the first page, and then the second, and then the third with names. 

- All the hybrids know that they won't leave with anyone unless they want to. You hold adoption weekends every month or so to help mitigate some of the influx, but you never turn anyone away who comes to stay. There are some hybrids that come stay at the farm and still want a home of their own, which is the primary reason why you start to have open houses and adoption weekends. 

- You devise a system, red tags on clothing to indicate a hybrid that doesn’t want to be adopted, yellow for the ones that might be but need space, and green name tags for those who want to be adopted. 

- The first time you have one of these weekends, 3 months after the death of your husband, you leave Namjoon’s choice of which sticker he wants up to him. He rolls his eyes at you before slapping 5 red stickers on his lapel just for good measure, really? Why would you expect any differently?  

- “Whose going to love a washed-up old soul like me anyway?” Namjoon says over dishes, helping you finish up the few that are leftover from breakfast. The hybrids that normally help are out meeting with the ten or so people that have come to adopt today. The words sound so sour, much more than he wanted them too.  

- You snort, rubbing at a dish harder, splashing the grease onto the front of your apron, angry, maybe it’s just the hormones. “I don’t know, me maybe.” Namjoon looks up abruptly; nearly dropping the dish he’s drying. You take it from his hands and put it on the counter, and you might be smaller than him by nearly a foot but he still feels shy. his cheeks pinking as he looks down at you. 

- “No ones- no ones ever loved me.” Namjoon says in a rush, not sure why he’s saying it, because you know- if anyone in the world knows Namjoon it’s you. your batterd soul matches his. 

- You tilt his chin down to yours, “no one has ever said it to me and meant it either. But I love you Joonie- you have to know that by now- of course I want you to stay for good.” 

- And then suddenly Namjoon is kissing you feverishly, sloppily despite the fact that his body is brimming with careful intent. And it may not be the first kiss you’ve shared- there have been more than a few in the shadowed shared moments In the morning. Mostly chaste pecks of the lips or kisses to your forehead or the ones to your tummy that namjoon knows make you feel a little sad. But for all intents and purposes, this is the only kiss that matters. The kisses that come after the first “I love you” are always sweeter than candy.  

- You thread your fingers through his hair and pull, making tingles erupt like starlight down his spine. Namjoon almost growls into your mouth as he reaches down to grip underneath your thighs where your ass meets your hips. Picking you up as gently as he can manage and placing you on the butcher-block countertop next to the sink. 

-  Your nails rubbing along the curve where his ears connect to his scull and he pulls you closer, always closer, dissatisfied with your nearness even though you’re pressed against him completely and he can feel the gentle swell of you through his clothes. your legs parted so he can step between them. Namjoon wants to not be able to tell where your skin begins and his ends. Your hands run up and down his chest, pushing his flannel off of his shoulders, so you can feel his biceps, the strength there in them taught. 

- Your dress hiking up to the point where it’s verging on lewd as his hands grab fistfulls of your plush thighs. He grips the weight you’ve gained there through your pregnancy and almost groans as he smooth’s his hands up over your curves unable to get enough of the way his fingers press into your supple skin. “Fuck, do you know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that? To touch you? i love you too- so much it hurts sometimes.”

- You’re looking up at him, already looking needy and wrecked the spaghetti strap of your dress sliding off your shoulder, as you nod and Namjoon wants more than anything to keep kissing you, to never stop, he never will if you let him.  

- He feels like he almost wants to devour you nipping lightly at the skin exposed by that fallen strap. As your fingers hover around the nape of his neck, answering his question with a broken whimper as he nips along your clavicle to your neck. Drunk on the smell of you, feeling like his soul is bare but safe in your hands. “I love you- god I love you so much, please can - can i- touch you?” 

- You feel almost incredulous, you head spinning with the knowledge that Namjoon loves you, he loves you, and you love him. You nod your ascent, and After everything, you’d never honestly believed that you’d ever be kissed again, much less that you’d ever be kissed like this. You tug up the hem of his shirt to dig your fingers into hips, dragging them carefully down his stomach without using your nails, the gentleness of the touch making him groan.

-  You can feel his heartbeat in your fingertips, the rapid rhythms of each heart beating in time as Namjoon kisses down your chest, mouthing roughly at your nipple through the fabric, careful not to nip, you’re already keening, your breasts so sensitive to his gentle but hungry ministrations. 

- Before it can go any further a cat hybrid, a small tortashell cat named Irene whose missing the tip of one of her ears from her last owner opens the front door looking for you- announcing a few people come for the open house, shocked to find the scene before her. And before she can manage more than a squeak Namjoon is snarling at her to leave without words. 

- He’s flushing so hard at being caught that you can’t help but laugh, as he turns from sultry to painfully shy. After a few more kisses and a frustrated groan on his part, you go back outside to join the adoption day festivities. 

- You get the call to pick up a golden retriever hybrid much like you would get any other call.

- It’s the second you’ve gotten in the last week and it’s only Thursday, though the first hybrid of the week has been clear that she wants to be re-adopted as soon as possible. You get the call and a blurry picture as proof, a brutish man with a hand tugging a small blonde head with golden ears as curly as the rest of his head. the neighbor tells you he’d seen the man beat the hybrid out in the yard, heard his cries of stop- and though of your add in the paper. 

- You and namjoon leave soon after dinner in your old red truck, before you go Taehyung assures you that he’ll make sure everyone cleans up from dinner and that the two child hybrids that came to stay last week will be in bed before 10. It honestly endears you that Taehyung takes on an older brother role with a lot of the younger hybrids, who during free hours, can be found bothering the bear hybrid to play games or let them steal spoonful’s of honey from the storeroom.  

- The drive is long, the day fading into night as you and Namjoon take mile after mile to heart. He switches off with you on the straightaways. You’ve been trying to teach him how to drive over the past few months (with many quaint misshapes where he accidentally knocked over your mailbox and a street sign or two, it’s a good thing your old truck is incredibly sturdy). 

- You whistle along with the song on the radio and namjoon smiles over at you, you're leaning your cheek on the door, hanging your head out of the open window the warm spring air tickling your long hair, your smile soft and happy. The love he has for you overflowing in his chest, thick and sweet like hidden honey. He might not say he loves you often, but you can taste it on his lips every time he kisses you, since the first confession, the kisses have come every day. 

- Namjoon still gets a little misty-eyed if he thinks about it too much. How much better you’ve gotten in the past few months since you’ve opened your home and started helping hybrids. He knows what it means for you to be able to help others out of situations like this. 

- With most pick-ups and house calls, you’re never sure what you’re driving into. Namjoon is always a little worried, unsure what kind of danger they’re going to find at the end of their journey. 

- Namjoon always anticipates the day that the human owners become violent, and his protective instincts go haywire whenever Namjoon has to leave you near someone abusive. Dredging up memories from a time that you’re both desperately trying to forget, but he’d never ask you to stop coming on these runs.

- This is why when you get to the house on the edge of the city where Namjoon used to work he lets you handle the transactional part of this, it helps that you’re very convincing. 

-The large jean jacket that was Namjoon’s at one point but has become yours pulled snugly over your stomach. You answer the door, talk to the owner weave a story of a widow who needs help on their farm. The man smells distinctly of alcohol and cheep cigars, namjoon sees you holding your breath- even as the conversation becomes less than cordial. Namjoon stops the door from closing in your face by shoving his foot into the door. 

- “I’ll level with you asshole,” you say, “you can either take my money and hand over the hybrid now- or I can go to the police with this” you hold out your phone and the video. “The fine for abusing hybrids is just about as much as what I’m offering to take him off your hands. Either way he’s coming home with me tonight. You can either make 500 dollars tonight or lose it- your choice.”  

- Through the whole conversation, Namjoon stands behind you, a silent sentinel even as the owner of the hybrid raises his voice. You argue more, but eventually, he agrees. Namjoon goes to retrieve the hybrid after a small nod from you; you’ve got this handled, Namjoon follows his nose.  

- Over the past few years, Jimin has become accustomed to just about every kind of abuse there is. 

- Even when he sleeps, adrenaline lugs it’s way through his veins ready to jump at the slightest indication of his owner coming down the hall. He knows he shouldn’t sleep right now, get it when he can, but the concussion he got earlier today makes his head feel heavy and nausea still rolls in his belly. 

- He lies- hides- underneath his bed; an old military cot in the cold garage. Not that he ever sleeps on top of it- it’s safer to sleep underneath. That way if his owner comes in later at night he’ll think Jimin has fucked off to some other corner of the house.

- He knows the concussion is all his own fault- he’d been stupid- but he’d just wanted to shower, to get some of the grime out from under his fingernails, he hadn’t expected his owner to come back from wherever he disappeared to so soon. Jimin shivers as he remembers the jarring crack of his own head hitting the rocks outside where he’d been tossed outside. His memories after that were muddled with pain, though he was certain he’d vomited at one point from the taste in his mouth.

- You weren’t supposed to sleep when you had a concussion right? That was dangerous right? Jimin was trying to remember, lying on the side of his face that wasn’t bruised to all high heaven. He freezes when he hears the voices in the kitchen, but relaxes. If people are here that means his owner probably won’t bother Jimin tonight. 

- he might be able to get to the bathroom later and dab some cool water on his face, maybe sneak a few handfuls of something from the kitchen. Always small portions so that his owner couldn’t tell Jimin had taken anything- he couldn’t handle another beating so close to this one. Hunger eats his way through his stomach. 

- But then he hears the footsteps and thinks that maybe he isn’t so lucky tonight. he presses himself closer to the wall, tucking his knees up to his chest.  

- But why are the footsteps a different pattern, what is that scent? it smells like another hybrid- a little spicy musk twined in with pine. Jimin doesn’t like strange smells. The door opens slowly, and the scent seeps in further, along with- what could that be? The scent of something delicate and sweet clinging to the hybrid as strong as his own scent, milky and soft, and inexplicably vulnerable.

- He watches as the stiff workboots come into view, At this point, jimin can tell that it’s definitely not his owner.

- Namjoon finds Jimin curled up under his bed in the garage, and beacons him out in his calm voice, careful not to get close and startle him. “Come on out pup- we’re here to take you somewhere safe, I promise I will let no harm come to you again.” jimin eases when he sees the hybrid ears- another hybrid like him! another dog, his tail gives a single wag. “mm not a pup- i’m just small,” 

- Jimin pears out from under the bed at him, ears pinned to his head in fear. the hybrid looks fierce and intimidating with the scars on his face that jimin almost flinches back. But the wide worried eyes that he can see underneath those scars, the muted dimples stretching into a worried smile. 

- Jimin has been so downtrodden on his entire life that he doesn’t really believe Namjoon when he repeats the words, “we’re here to take you somewhere safe?” jimin dosent believe him- but at the same time, he thinks that nowhere could be worse than right where he is.  

- The other hybrids smile is kind, and dimply, despite the scars that mark his face as he sits on the ground so he dosent have to bend over to see under the cot. “sorry, it’s hard to get a good look at you, i’m namjoon, you’re Jimin right?” 

- Jimin crawls out from under his cot in the garage slowly, the room spinning.  half expecting the other hybrid to get tired of his slowness and yank him out. his owner did that sometimes when he felt like Jimin was being disrespectful of his time. Namjoon winces outwardly when Jimin’s left side turns towards the light, and Jimin knows that it can’t look good. He can barely see out of his eye after all the skin tender and swolen under his hands. 

- He’s mindful of all the dust on his clothes and the tare in the left leg of his red shorts, brushing a dust bunny off his side, suddenly feeling lacking in front of the well taken care of hybrid.  

- He follows a pace behind Namjoon back into the living room, his owner stands with you, you’re shorter but holding your own with sharp stubborn eyes. A human, so this must be Namjoon’s owner. The second your eyes fall on Jimin, on his swollen side of his face, your eyes turn softer and definitely angrier. 

- The scent of flowers and cream hits Jimin like a wave so pungent that it fills his nostrils and overwhelms him a little, it’s not unpleasant- just unexpected- and when he sees you he understands why. Though you’re obviously trying to conceal your pregnant stomach your scent is a dead giveaway every hybrid in a mile radius probably can smell you.  

- Jimin can see Namjoon straighten up a little, becoming more protective the closer they get to Jimin’s owner, who doesn’t look happy (not by a long, astronomical shot) Jimin shivers as he turns his eyes on him, his arms crossed, and Namjoon instinctually steps in front of Jimin to hide him from view. Jimin sways on his feet. 

- You plunge your hand into your bag by your side, pulling out a stack of bills, for a moment jimin almost wants to stop you- tell you that he’s not worth that much, but Namjoon holds out a hand, almost pressing it to Jimin’s chest to keep him from doing so. 

- The money is counted, “good riddance useless mutt,” his owner spits after he signs over the adoption documents to you.  Jimin’s flinch is sobering, his owner laughs. Namjoon actually shoves him back The saliva hitting Jimin’s feet as he reels, and you lay a gentle arm around his shoulders, guiding him outside. Sending a final glare in the direction of the man. 

- Jimin can barely process any of it through the spinning in his head, a spinning that moderately stops the second he gets outside into the cool air of the May evening. The scent of flowers and pine in his nose and the taste of blood in his mouth.  

- You soothe him with a soft voice once they’re out of earshot and take a quick look at Jimin’s half swollen face. A cellphone flashlight in his face and thundering in his ears. Momentarily blinding him. Jimin closes his eye as the pads of your fingers turn his chin this way and that to assess his wounds. “Do you think you need to go to the hospital Jimin?” you ask, careful to stay quiet and delicate with him.

- In the window of Jimin’s old house, the curtain twitches, and Namjoon knows they need to leave soon. Bad will and money lead to safety that only lasts so long, and they definitely don’t need the cops called on them especially after Namjoon shoved him, hybrids have been sent to jail for less. 

- “No, I think I’ll be fine” Jimin mumbles, unable to resist leaning into your hand, so soft, your scent making him feel almost hazy and out of it than his probable concussion does. And Namjoon freezes, reminded that not too long ago that you looked like this too- that he was the one leaning into your hands. The memory hits him so violently that he whines, low in his throat. Jimin looks up, ears flicking agitated like he’s asking what wrong, sending a panicked glance between the two of you defaulting to namjoon, the elder hybrid, to know what to do around you- his new owner. 

- “let me- let's get you into the car” namjoon grips jimin around the top of his arms and lifts him in, his skinned knee resisting the bend that would be needed to pull himself up into the back seat. He sits tense and curled up before you remind him that he can stretch out. and he settles onto the seat with his his back up against one side, and his feet pressed against the opposite door. the back window open to let the night air wip in. 

- You stop at the gas station and give Jimin ice for his black eye and some food and snacks, which he gobbles up hungrily. He’s so preoccupied with food, that he dosent notice Namjoon’s dimpled smile in the mirror after Jimin groans at how good the gas station burrito tastes, licking his fingers with a pop. You give Namjoon a soft, knowing look when his tail thumps against the seat. he tosses Jimin two more bags of chips and a sweet elecrtolite drink, and watches expectantly to see more of Jimin’s happy little whines and pleased grumbles. and you stifle a huffing laugh. 

- Namjoon can’t help it, the hybrid in the back seat looks so thin, almost startlingly so; he’s smaller than average too- probably malnourished. Namjoon’s natural caregiver instincts flaring up and demanding to be satisfied so desperately that he even tosses his flannel over him when he sees the hybrid shiver. You sent Namjoon a curious look, and he hides his flush by turning to watch the roadside. 

- Jimin stretches out across the back seat with Namjoon’s giant flannel thrown over his shoulders, checking to make sure neither of you is looking back at him before he presses the collar to his nose and takes a deep breath of your combines scents, trying to reconcile his senses with what surely must be a dream. 

- This has to be just a concussion dream jimin decides, what else would his mind come up with, other than a sweet fantasy. Someone comes to take him out of the hell his life was, give him food. He wants to take in everything, the smell of the night air, the silhouette of your face in the headlights, namjoon’s ears poking out above the headrest. 

- He hovers on Namjoon’s hand entwined with yours over the center console, the hand that Namjoon occasionally reaches out to rest against your swollen stomach, gently drawing lazy circles as you pull onto the main road.

- Yup, Jimin decides, this is definitely a dream, but he hopes it’s real.  The last little bit of hope feels almost stupid to have, for hybrids like Jimin, there are very rarely happy endings.

- He falls asleep by the time you reach the highway, lulled by the thrumming road and the oldies song faintly playing out of the crackly speakers of the beat-up truck. His last thought before sleep takes him is hope. 

-  Jimin hopes with the last shred of himself that is joyful and kind and not purely concerned with survival that this is not a dream, and that where he is going will be a little bit better than where he just was. 

- Even just a little bit better than this dream, he doesn’t even need anything like the affection burning in both of your eyes or the kindness you’ve shown him, if he can just lay his head down and rest without being worried he’ll be woken up with pain and fear again, that will be enough. 

- To Jimin, the farm is an Eden.

( my Kofi )

[rocketonthemoon]

HEY I hope you dont mind, how would you recommend building your resume to work in bookstores or pet stores? I'm trying to crawl my way out of the kitchen industry

Hey Friend! love the icon!

I don't know how much I can say towards "building a resume" as pretty much both of those jobs I got/was good at due to luck and being charming but I can give you some advice on what to expect/how to maybe give yourself a little better leg up on selling yourself during an interview!

(Note: these are my personal experiences working in 1) a small chain pet supply store in rural new jersey usa and 2) a midsize second hand bookstore chain in suburban midwestern usa so depending on where you are/company you're looking at ymmv) (also this got a little long so I'm gunna put it under a cut but tl;dr both jobs are retail jobs and while can be a ton of fun can still make you feel dead inside but maybe a little less than a kitchen job?)

For pet supply a lot of people think it's just going to be ✨working with dogs✨ and like, yeah ok you'll meet a lot of dogs but having people skills is super important cause like. Your potential boss wants you to sell shit and the individual with the money is on the other end of the leash. So eye contact and an easy smile when their dog pees all over your shoes is a plus. Also, like, half the dogs you meet will be Not As Well Trained As You Wish and will possibly steal/destroy your product while in the store. And then pee all over your floor and possibly other unfortunate bodily fluids/functions. That you will be responsible for cleaning up 8/10. If you live/work in an area like I did where people have obscene amounts of money the patience to listen to them jabber on about things to land a $500+ sale is great because then they'll come back and SOMETIMES tip you 50 bucks for being "such a great help". Also being able to lift over 40lbs is crucial. That job paid me absolute dirt money - especially for living on the EC - but I didn't need a gym membership and easily gained at least 10lbs of muscle due to hauling dog food everywhere around the store - large bags at my store came in either 25 or 30 pound bags and often people would need help carrying it out to their cars. Truck days would be just endless moving of product while helping customers at the same time so it's a whole workout on the job. Having experience with pets is a HUGE plus as you can imagine and not just dogs. My store was more likely to hire people that currently had pets or had owned pets for a long time in their life but weren't - and this is critical - weirdly prejudiced about other kind of pets. Like if you don't like cats or think snakes are gross, don't say that or at least don't in the interview and preferably not in the first few weeks of working there (and definitely not to customers)!

Bookstore again, people skills. And people of all ages. Kids especially. Kids read and like bookstores because there's books and toys and sometimes stickers! So there will be kids you will have to be nice to. Also the people who just want to loiter because it's a bookstore and they'll grab ten off the shelf just to sit in the aisle for three hours specifically where you need to go (most bookstores have chairs for this exact reason. Please be nice to your local bookseller and sit in a chair to read. It means they won't accidentally hit you with a book/cart/trip over you if they don't see you). Bookstores are kinda just libraries so hang around your library and people watch and then you'll get an idea of the kind of people you can expect to react. Also again being able to lift a decent amount of weight is good. My store bought back from the public and often had to help people take boxes out of their cars and I dunno the last time you lifted boxes full of books but they can get heavy. Plus your inventory will most likely come in boxes so unpacking and moving those will be easier if you already have some good strength.

Mostly though, the thing to remember about both of these jobs is that they're retail. You're dealing with the public and a very specific sort of public that are into animals and into books so they might be a tad more interesting than your every day retail shopper so having an upbeat attitude always helps. Patience is Definitely a Virtue because you will find people can't read or ask you questions like 'hey do you sell dog food here?' while standing in front of giant shelves of nothing but dog food. Advertising yourself as a people person or at the very least Good With People and a Problem Solver during your interview will help a TON in my experience. My line for both interviews that I will give you is "when asked a question I don't know I always like to say 'you know that's a great question! I don't know off the top of my head but let's go find out together/someone who does!" Managers eat that shit up.

Hope at least some of this is helpful and I hope you have success getting into a new industry :D

[thiswasinevitableid]

winter prompt fill 29, indruck, sfw?

29. i should’ve done my shopping a month ago but now i’m running around last minute and when i enter your store, i’m absolutely frazzled. help me.

(Pinecone is borrowed from harrisonator’s fic “Monster Mash”)

Working at Kepler Petco isn’t the worst thing, even during the holiday shopping hellscape months. It’s not like anyone is getting in fistfights over cases of Fancy Feast. Which is why, on the 22nd of December, Duck is unprepared for the sudden sound of hands on hitting the countertop. 

“I need help.” The guy’s about his age, silver hair going patchy black near the top, pink and white striped sweater around his neck and a massive sweater hanging off his lanky frame. His red glasses barely conceal brown, anxious eyes. 

“Sure, what’re lookin for?”

“Rat treats, the kind that won’t make them ill.”

“Can handle that, right this way.” Duck leaves the counter and leads the guy back to the small mammal section. As they go the man spins a ring on his index finger, flushing under the merciless heating vents. 

“I’m sorry for the dramatic entrance. I have a mountain of things to do today and your store closes first.”

Duck glances at the AKC branded clock on the wall, which shows 12:30 p.m, “We close at five.”

“Yes, I know, but I really cannot overstate how behind I am on my Christmas shopping. Or, well, holiday is more accurate, since Joseph celebrates Hanukkah, which means I’m already late on that.” He sighs, runs a finger with chipped black nails through his hair.

“Big family?” Duck points to the row of snacks, grabs the man a basket from the end of the aisle when he starts piling them into his arms. 

“Lots of friends. We’re having a party tomorrow and I completely forgot about it until today. I know it’s ridiculous to forget about a holiday where you can’t turn around without being slapped with a reminder of it, but my brain doesn’t always work in the way I’d like it to.”

“No judgement here. Once forgot my sisters birthday until the minute my mom asked if I could get some candles for the cake after school.”

“Oh dear.” The man smiles, the expression shifting from odd to shy when Duck meets his eyes, “thank you for your help.”

Five minutes later the guy heads towards the register, then stops, backtracking to the display of rats, mice, and hamsters. Duck joins him in case he has questions, and to steal another look at his singular features. They’re not handsome on the surface, but something about them draws his eye back over and over. He’s just in time to hear the man cooing to a pair of brown rats.

“...so lovely, aren’t you just charming? If I could I’d take you home but space is limited. Oh” he blushes when he sees Duck, “I’m, ah, ready to pay now.”

“One of your friends got rats?” He indicates the pile of treats the man is buying.

“Hmm? Oh, no, these are for Luna and Emperor, my rats. I wanted to get them presents too.”

Duck can’t decide if the fact the guy prioritized spoiling his pets on the day he had to buy a bunch of gifts is adorable or worrying.

“As I said, I came here because you close first. And I, ah, I like spoiling them. It’s nice to know exactly how to cheer another living thing up.”

“I get that. Pinecone, that’s my, uh, my cat, gets more treats a month than I do.”

“Someone ought to buy you a few, then.”  The man murmurs, handing over his debit card. 

Duck, caught up in the mechanics of fighting with the card reader, doesn’t realize he’s being flirted with until the man is no more than a silver head merging into the throng outside. 

He’s lowkey annoyed with himself the rest of the day; he’s been in the market for a cute guy, and while his mystery shopper may not be Ryan Gosling, but Duck wouldn’t mind getting his number. 

Since he opened today, he gets off at three, decides to swing by Crate and Barrel in case the apron he thinks Barclay might like. There’s small hallways dotted through the mall, leading to exits or to backrooms.  As he passes one, he gets a glimpse of silver hair and a vibrant scarf. That’s the only good part of what he sees; the man from earlier is pressed close to the shiny wall, trying and failing to get his breathing order.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

He jolts, registers who’s speaking, and looks at the ground, “N-not really. I, part of the reason put this off so long is I can get incredibly overwhelmed in crowds sometimes, and yes I know that makes coming here three days before Christmas even worse an idea but I thought maybe I could handle it, but I’ve only managed to buy two of the gifts I need because I cannot focus with everything going on and, and I’m sorry, here I wanted to charming around you and now you’ve seen this and-”

“What would help?”

“I, I’d like to go somewhere quiet, but there’s nowhere, even the bathrooms are packed.”

“Do you, uh, want to come sit in my car for a bit? I can run the heater so we don’t freeze.”

“That’s really alright?” The question is so small and vulnerable he wants to tuck it into a shoebox to keep it safe.

“Yeah. C’mon, I’m parked on this end.” 

It’s snowing on and off as they walk to his car, and as he gets it running and turns on the heat his passenger finally pulls his clenched hands from his pockets; one holds a fidget cube, the other a very small, plush moth.

“I tried so hard to prepare for every possible future.” Is what he gets as explanation. The man sets both items in his lap and shuts his eyes, breathing slowly in and out. Duck says nothing, opens his phone and plays two rounds of Plants vs. Zombies before he hears anything at all from beside him. 

“Would you mind turning the radio on, at a low volume?”

“Any requests?” Duck hits the power button.

“No talk radio.”

“Can manage that.” He fiddles around and finds the alternative station. Even it has Christmas songs interspersed with the usual mix. 

“Is your name really Duck?”

He wonders if the guy is omnipotent until he remembers his nametag.

“It’s a nickname.”

“I’m Indrid.” He opens his eyes, “thank you for letting me come here to calm down. I may actually manage to succeed in my quest now. It’s so hard, I actually enjoy being out around the lights, the feeling of so many people being happy or trying to do kind things for each other. But it’s easy to get overwhelmed, especially when I’m alone.”

“Would it help if you weren’t?”

“Possibly, but I couldn’t ask you to spend even more time in that mall given you work there.” 

“Got some last minute shoppin to do myself. Besides, if you get stuck on a gift, I’m pretty damn good at comin up with ideas.”

“Thank you.” Indrid smiles, excited, and that settles it: Duck is asking for his number after this.

They brave the crowds and the holiday cheer blaring across the speakers once more. The first stop is a store selling housewares, including a pair of small succulents that Indrid deems worthy of giving a friend as he listens to Duck talk about his part time job at the National Forest, laughing when Duck mentions last weeks run-in with a pissed-off migratory bird. 

The next few stores are no help, and they opt to take advantage of the lull between when people are done with school and when people are done with work to hit up the coffeeshop, Indrid ordering a white chocolate peppermint mocha and promptly getting whipped cream on his nose. Duck is tempted to kiss it off, settles for handing his new friend a napkin while he talks about his recent return to Kepler after traveling around the country in a Winnebago, selling his art at shows. As luck would have it, the store has a shelf devoted to artisan or local coffees, and they’re each able to find one for someone on their list. 

Macy's proves more treacherous, and once five o’ clock hits even Duck is feeling cramped. Indrid is tensing, his replies getting short or far off, and just as Duck is about to offer to dip out again, chilly fingers link with his own.

“Is this alright?”

“Better than alright.” He grins and Indrid holds tighter, breathing in through his nose and out his mouth as Duck guides them into a less crowded corner. The do eventually find some high quality hiking socks that Indrid buys, only letting go of Duck in order to pay. 

They reward themselves with dinner at Johnny Rocket, Duck hopping over to Indrid’s side of the booth to see pictures of Emperor and Luna, and show off the photos he has of Pinecone hiding under his ranger jacket. 

“One more stop, thank goodness.” It’s going on seven and Duck has to say he agrees; he loves being around Indrid, but his feet are killing him and he’s had “Jingle Bells” stuck in his head for an hour. 

Indrid’s last item is at Crate and Barrel, and Duck laughs when the other man goes straight to the aprons. 

“You got good taste, I’m gettin’ one of these too. Barclay said he needed a new one.”

A fine-boned hand freezes mid-reach, “Did you say Barclay?”

“Yeah?”

“I am also buying this for a Barclay. Is your Barclay, by chance, dating someone named Joseph and hosting a party tomorrow?”

“Yep.”

They stare at each other, frozen long enough that another shopper passes between them. Then they double over in sync, Duck wheezing out a laugh while Indrid cackles. 

“Holy shit, we’ve been shoppin for the same folks!”

“Barclay mentioned there’d be new people at the party but I never thought one of them would be such a catch.”

Duck gets his breathing in order, steps across the faux-hardwood and takes Indrid’s hand.

“Hey, Indrid? You wanna be my date to the party tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.”

“....wait, fuck, which one of us is gonna give him the apron?”

“You can, I have another idea for him. Consider it an early present from me.” Indrid tease. 

“Sugar,” Duck slips his hands into Indrid’s back pockets, smiling up at him, “you might just be all the present I need.”

[buirbaby]

The Wardens: Death Is A Cruel Mistress

Summary:  Tabitha's time had run out on Earth, consumed by flames. When she wakes up in her new hell, she discovers that not only is it cold, but it's a hell of an entirely different meaning. She is in Westeros, with the knowledge to change the tides of future, but without the ability to speak it aloud. Tabitha must carve her path without fame, fortune, or noble titles in order to save characters from their deaths. All she has is a sword in her hand and the ability to warg.

Rating: M+ Mature themes, language, and violence

Masterlist | Next

The end of the work day was like any other. Tabitha was misting a few plants in the lowlight of the fading afternoon as evening encroached on her small storefront. Jingling jovially, the door tinkled open with just five minutes to spare on the clock before she'd lock it. Lifting her head, her fingers listed up toward her glasses to see who had entered. Originally, she had believed it to be a customer in search of a last minute plant or clippings she sometimes arranged into floral bouquets. However, rather than a customer, her stomach dropped to the floor at the cursed visage of a man in a finely pressed suit.

He wasn't there for a plant, she knew this. Just as she knew many others that had been harassing her and a few other remaining shops on Main Street. A new development wanted to take control of this block and turn it into an impressive condo complex on the rustic street that garnered attention from tourists and locals alike. Wiping her hands off on her apron, which was dusted with dirt and pearlite, Tabitha cleared her throat and approached. If he thought there'd be a mousy garden shop owner, he was sorely mistaken. Tabitha's family had own this storefront for generations and she wasn't about to hand it over, not when she'd fixed it up with her own blood, sweat, and tears. She was a successful business woman, the shop was in stellar condition and thriving despite the pause in society due to COVID.

"Can I help you?" she asked sharply, coming around the polished wooden counter to assert her place.

"Yes, is the owner or manager in?"

The fated question, one that made her blood boil each time the casual, yet scathing glance was set over her, as if a woman in her late twenties couldn't be said person. It happened yet again and Tabitha forced herself not to snort in indignation. "I am her," she replied evenly.

"Wonderful," the man drawled, withdrawing a manila folder from underneath his arm. "As you're likely aware, my company is purchasing property in the vicinity. There are a few stores, this one included, that are refusing to sell. I've come with an offer-" he opened the folder, images of the supposed development and work ushered beneath a contract and a hefty sum with quite a few zeroes.

"Then you would be aware that I, like the other few businesses, are still refusing to sell. Listen, this street prides itself on historical shops and architecture. I know that we're prime water view property, but I'm not selling, and I know for certain that my fellow business owners are just as adamant in our position. I don't need the money," Tabitha didn't touch the paper. He could have added more zeroes and she wouldn't have cared. This was principle, her family's lineage, and she wouldn't be a sell out.

"Please, these prices are negotiable. My company is really eager to develop here and keep to the charming architecture on the street. Won't you consider it? You could always reopen in a much larger shop down the road," the man suggested.

"It wouldn't be on Main Street," Tabitha pointed out. "Look, sir, I've got nothing against you, but I don't appreciate being badgered to sell. I will never sell. Your company should either take what they've got or look elsewhere. Now please, I'm just about to close."

"Nothing is going to change your mind, miss?"

"Nothing," Tabitha assured him, closing the folder and sliding it back over toward him.

Escorting the man to the door, he paused to glance at the fire alarm posted near the entrance. It was a bit old, but the pipes had been updated within the last decade. "Old system here," he commented.

"The shop is as humid as a rainforest, I'm not too worried," Tabitha shrugged, opening the door. Perhaps she should have thought about the oddness of the comment more, but she didn't. A lot of things in the shop were old, considering how long the building had been standing. She had put a lot of money into reinforcing the structure and replacing the old with new so that the beautiful piece of history could be continuously preserved. Shutting the door behind him, she locked the glass door and flipped the sign over to ‘closed’.

There were a few chores to finish up around the shop, to include changing out bug sticky tape and sweeping up dirt. After balancing the register, she locked up the cash, and shut the lights off. Through the back of the store, there was a locked door that led to a staircase, revealing a set of stairs that ascended into her apartment that was situated above the shop.

Her head ached, them pestering at least twice a week to sell her home and livelihood just to relocate. That wasn't it. Aside from the principle of it all, she would also have to find a house and a new store. Who knew if she'd be able to buy it outright or what she'd be getting. Then the stress of moving alongside of wondering if her typical clients would follow her elsewhere. No, it was too much and she wouldn't do it, even if she was the last one on the frontier against this condo company. Maybe if she had some family to help her she would've grudgingly considered it, but already she was spread thin between all her work.

A loud meow greeted her as she pushed open the door to her flat and she smiled, the tension of the day slipping away as a fluffy black cat stood on the arm of her couch and beckoned with his tail to be given attention. Letting out another shouting protest, Tabitha chuckled and brushed her palm over the feline's head, the long hair cat pressing into her hand as she raked down his spine. "I know, I know, I kept you up here all day. I'm sorry Balerion. Bad cat mommy," she hung her smock up and bent down to pick the fluffy monster up, the baby curling into her arms like a babe as he mewed in content. "But you know I'm going to make it up to you. Tomorrow we're going on another trip, aren't we? Hollis is gonna take care of the shop while we're gone."

The plan was to head up to Iceland for the hike and climbing trip that Tabitha had been saving for for years. Balerion was her partner on all escapades, a willing participant in hikes and her little buddy even in rockclimbing as he'd be situated in a special backpack where he'd be fully strapped in. Already the feline had been with her to the Amazon, Alaska and Denali, Scotland, the Azores, and Hawaii. He seemed to love the adventure, which was uncommon for cats, especially given the strenuous conditions they were sometimes subjected to. However, even if Tabitha was miserable, Balerion was always kept warm, dry, and safe. She had friends, but Balerion was her soul mate.

"Let's go through our packing list one more time, we don't want to forget anything," she said, reminding herself more than him as she brought him into the bedroom and plopped him down onto the bed. Balerion flopped down, hanging his meaty paws over the edge as she opened her suitcase and hiking pack to double check the supplies. "Now it'll be summer there, so lots of hours of sunlight, but still quite mild. Want to make certain we're warm enough at night. Shouldn't be as bad as Denali though."

After checking the list thrice more and comparing it to what she had laid out, Tabitha decided that the two of them were ready for the journey tomorrow. Dinner was simple to prevent much to clean before the two of them settled in for the evening, a book on her lap as she re-read through one of her favorite series: A Song of Ice and Fire . The place where she'd gotten Balerion's name from. She barely managed more than a chapter, too excited to board the plane at the crack of dawn to Iceland with her furry companion.

Tugging the blanket up, Balerion curled up by her side, Tabitha set her alarm on her phone and tried to get some shut eye. It was difficult at first, the anticipation clawing at her, but eventually she slipped away from reality. Cascading into a dreamless sleep, she was awoken by the worried yowl of her cat, which roused her. Eyes burning, Tabitha turned over in an attempt to grab her phone to check the time. It wasn't often that Balerion made such an awful noise. Usually when he wasn't feeling well and was going to vomit. However, as she turned on the night lamp, she noticed a thick haze permeating the room. Balerion was no longer beside her, but she could hear his crying, loud and insistent.

Smoke. It was smoke.

"Balerion?" The moment she opened her mouth, she drew in a copious amount of smoke and choked on it. Sputtering, she rolled off the bed and crawled, looking for her pet. "Bale, come here baby. Come here!"

She didn't hear the fire alarms going off. If there was any sort of fire, the alarms should have been ringing. Ducking underneath the bed, she found him cowering in the corner, reaching beneath to drag him out toward her. Fire escape. There wasn't time to think about what had caused the fire, nor where it had originated. Her mind was fully in survival mode. This was the second floor and the ceilings were quite high, her best hope would be utilizing the escape to get as close to the ground as she could before dropping down.

Tabitha made it to the window where the escape was, standing up enough to try and glimpse outside, but was horrified by what she found. There was a glass pane to look through, but a curtain of fire as the flames had consumed the exterior of the structure first. She had replaced a good portion of the interior, but the outside was still the same old shingles. Wherever the fire might have started, it had lanced up around the outside, beginning to eat in through the roof before billeting up through the flooring of her apartment. It was possible that the wet atmosphere of her shop cocooned the apartment temporarily, but in the meanwhile the rest of the older parts of the structure went alight.

Panic consumed her as Tabitha dropped back down to the ground and hoped that maybe the nearby fire department would get inside before either of them perished. Keep low to the ground, try not to breathe in the smoke.

Crawling away from the window and doorway, Tabitha slid next to her bookcase, glancing over at the picture frames and the years of her early twenties depicted in photos of her when she'd left the confines of her small town home to embark on a journey in the military. Those years, while she'd complained a lot about them, had helped put a backbone in her and set up a foundation for schooling and regiment. She still enjoyed rucking-or backpacking as the civilians called it, never quite trading in her boots in.

Her eyes fluttered, a soft hoarse cough parting her lips again as Balerion's yowling quieted and she felt exhausted. Perhaps she could hear the fire trucks in the distance, perhaps she couldn't. Tabitha's eyes shut to the sound of a formation marching and a cadence being called.

[chicagocityofclans]

Judson Cleirigh → Jamie Dornan → Warlock

→ Basic Information 

Age: 761

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Sapiosexual

Powers: Therionology

Birthday: August 16th

Zodiac Sign: Leo

Religion: Buddhist

Mark: Cleirigh 

Generation: 2nd

→ His Personality Judson is very kindhearted, passionate, and loyal. He is willing to risk his life for a loved one in every way possible. He sees helping others as his purpose in life, but while normal people can be found engaging rescue efforts and doing charity work, Judson's real passion is to get to the heart of the issue so that people do not need to be rescued at all. Though soft-spoken, Judson usually has very strong opinions and will fight tirelessly for an idea he believes in. He can be decisive and strong-willed. While in his lab, he acts with creativity, imagination and faith. Also, with sympathy to not create an advantage to the supernatural community only, but to create for the human population too. He wants to take care of the world. As a user of theriogenology, Judson had to fight for the respect of his peers and most of the supernatural community, because of the power to control animals and eventually mythical creatures. He holds that respect and the trust he gained above all else. 

→ His Personal Facts

Occupation: Potions Master and Owner of Wondering Worlds of Magic

Scars: None

Tattoos: Infinity symbol on left ankle  

Two Likes: Kiwi and Potions

Two Dislikes: Green Peas/Beans and The Color Orange

Two Fears: Called out or Judged For Being Ambidextrous and Somniphobia

Two Hobbies: Stress Eating and Surfing

Three Positive Traits: Unselfish, Approachable, Passionate

Three Negative Traits: Jealous, Obsessive, Vindictive

→ His Connections

Parent Names:

Ronan Cleirgh (Father): Judson takes his love and art for magic from his father. Ronan has taught him nearly everything he knows today.

Ishtar Cleirigh (Mother): Judson takes his personality after his mother the most. Ishtar gives the best hugs and no one comes close to her cooking. 

Sibling Names:

Nathan Cleirigh (Brother): Nathan was always the doting older brother. He never lost his patience with Judson or his temper.  

Ethan Cleirigh (Brother): Being a couple of years apart made them closer. Judson will never forget that Ethan volunteered to postpone his studies so that they could start schooling, and later on, training together.

Sean O’Payne-Cleirigh (Brother): Judson never hung out with Sean. He’s sure Sean hated him with a passion. Ishtar and Jo forbid them being in the same country at one point.

Teyla ‘Tikka’ Cleirigh (Sister): Judson wasn’t sad that he wasn’t the youngest anymore when Tikka was born. He was the first to note the scent of decay, alerting everyone she was a necromancer. She’s already his little potion master in the making and everyone knows it.

Altair Cleirigh (Brother): Judson wasn’t sad he wasn’t the youngest boy anymore when Altair was born. Loland couldn’t pry Judson away from his little brother. Judson has recently taught Altair how to swim and have many future beach trips planned out already. 

Children Names:

Ryan Cleirigh (Son): Ryan is Judson’s greatest accomplishment. Sometimes it's easy to forget that Ryan is his son because of their close friendship. 

Romantic Connections:

None

Platonic Connections:

Katherine ‘Kate’ Brooks (New Friend): Judson likes her and he thinks that Ryan does too. She’s a fascinating human.

Jev ‘Patch’ Cipriano (Best Friend): Patch is the little brother that Judson always wanted. Their friendship is one of the best that Judson has ever had. 

Bill White (Good Friend): Bill might as well be family at this point in their friendship. Bill, Patch and Judson have an amazing connection. 

Fenrin Gustafsson (Friend): Judson and Fenrin first met whilst surfing years ago. When they bumped into each other again in Chicago a friendship formed between them. Judson is currently using Fenrin as a lab rat for potions to help battle dehydration. Fenrin has been a great help and Judson plans on crediting him.

Cassandra Askeris (Old Friend): Cassandra and Judson have been friends for centuries. Judson considers her basically family at this point. 

Jia Hu Cleirigh (Friend): Judson has a deep respect for Jia. It's something about the man that peaks Judson interest. 

Audo Wilhelm (Friend): Audo isn’t bad for a Wilhelm. He was weary of him at first but once Judson got to know him more, Audo wasn’t that bad.

Emmett Wilhelm (Friend): Emmett isn’t bad for a Wilhelm. Everyone is usually familiar with the local liaison but Emmett has earned more than just a title. 

Minsky Edison (Friend): Minsky is a cool dude. They do a lot of business together which Judson appreciates because Minsky is old enough not to need him. 

Kenneth McStevens (Friend): Ken secretly works for Judson. As a Benevorous user not a lot of magic users trust Ken but Judson sees potential in him.

Lyla Wilhelm (Friend): Lyla is married to Emmett and is Audo’s best friends. Emmett and Audo introduced her to Judson and they have been friends since. 

Kudzai Rinker (Strained Friendship): Not a lot of people agree with Kudzai ways but due to her age and success, a lot of people show her respect. Mainly Judson.

Naomi Goode (Mentee): Naomi came to him not to enhance her powers but to master potions, which Judson is used to. He enjoys her as his student.

Margo Wilhelm (Mentee): Margo is absolutely adorable. He has been helping Audo care for her and is proud that her first words were ingredients to a potion.

Mattie Cocci (Mentee): Mattie came to him not to enhance her powers but to master potions, which Judson is used to. She’s not bad but has far to go.

Roman Cleirigh (Former-Mentor): Roman is also Judson’s uncle. At a young age Judson was attached to Roman hip and for the most part he still is.

Kaylor Genesis (Former-Mentor): Kaylor is also Judson’s aunt. They share the same powers and same carefree attitude. They’ve always got along.

Brighton ‘Bee’ Genesis (Business): Bee is also his uncle by marriage. Bee joined him and Ethan on the battlefield and saved them both multiple times. Bee powers also come in handy when he needs rare ingredients for projects.  

Belle Cunningham (Business): Belle can do amazing things with her powers. She uses Wondering Magic as a Consignment Store.

Garrett Cleirigh (Employee): Garret is also Judson’s uncle. Both of them are willing to drop everything at once to help the other out. 

Hostile Connections:

Louis Martin-Rovet (Dislike): Judson has nothing against other supernatural  creatures but Louis and his rats are pushing it too far. 

Pets:

Diaval Brazil (Familiar/Exotic Shorthair Cat): Diaval is Judson familiar. He was a gift from Kaylor and Roman once he started working on his Master level powers. 

→ History Judson has always been a happy person and a go-getter. He rarely cried as a baby, his parents believed he was benevorous, that was until animals annoyingly tried to enter his room and smother him with kindness, love and woodland gifts. His toddler life and childhood was a Disney movie as far as Judson is concerned. He’d wake up to birds singing him a song, deer playing with him outside and raccoons bring him berries and nuts for snacks. Life couldn’t have been any better. He saw no evil in his parents and siblings like the world around them did. As far as little Judson was concerned he had a time traveler for a mother and death as his father.��

As he grew, Judson developed a sixth sense for magic. He muttered spells daily, like they were prayers and could mix potions quicker than chocolate milk or lemonade. Before Judson started mentoring, he had potions, spellworks, charms and warding down enough to start selling his personal products to witches and warlocks locally. Judson eventually made a name for himself away from his family and banked on it. 

First, Judson mentored under Kaylor and she taught him zoolingualism which took just over a century. Learning to understand and imitate every animal nearly drove him mad but taught Judson how to always smile even when he was dying inside. Zookinesis came easily after being able to communicate with animals in their own language. It was around this time that Judson switched to his second mentor, Ronan. While Kaylor did continue to help him with his advance powers, Ronan took over teaching Judson about more physically created magic. They focused on wards, shields, charms and curses. Judson was as young as 356 years old when he had his third mentor, Roman. Roman had been itching to get his hands on Judson since he had mixed his first potion correctly at the age of 7.

Judson loves potions. Name it and Judson has tried to create it. He pushes the envelope nonstop, wanting nothing but perfection to go with his name. This is mostly thanks to Roman. His uncle had broken him down and built him up again multiple times to make him a legendary potion master before he finished learning his master powers. Judson had put learning his master powers on hold after turning 420. He started deploying with Ethan and Bee during international wars and putting his potions to work on injured, lovelorn or homesick humans and other supernaturals. He became internationally known within the supernatural population. Only then did he allow his current mentor and his previous two, to drag him off and teach him mythikinesis and animal guide generation. Judson was nearly in his mid 500s when he completed his mentorship.

It was the early 1800’s when Judson finally stopped travelling to people around the world and opened a local shop in Chicago. Witches and Warlocks were able to teleport safely into a backroom and shop around for the rarest treats. Judson had scheduled cross country teleports to take goodies to his other supernatural customers who trusted him but were unable to teleport. While it took awhile to gain the trust of the locals in Chicago because of his mastered ability of mythikinesis, Judson is glad that they didn’t take too long to come visit him. Judson had even begun to put in the efforts to help find solutions for animal shifter hypershift and dementia.

It was sometime in the early 1830’s when Judson decided he wanted a progeny. He wasn’t in a serious relationship and finding orphaned with unknown warlock or witch marks was nearly impossible. He tried and failed multiple times using spells and potions to make himself the perfect progeny. Judson even entered the dating scene but quickly left after having put everything he worked hard for on hold for ungrateful, unworthy and abusive assholes. That’s when Judson heard about a private witch and warlock surrogate program and sperm donors. Without telling anyone, Judson closed up shop to ‘find himself’ and returned 9 months later with a newborn. Judson didn’t share his story because of confidentiality clauses. He later told his son, Ryan, the truth about his birth but it is still a secret to their community, that is besides a few rumors. 

→ The Present Judson is absolutely excited about having three mentees that are eager to learn. He genuinely enjoys babysitting Margo and having someone to listen to him blab on as he dances around his potion room. Mattie and Naomi stroked his ego hard when he found out they travelled far just to mentor under him as a potion master. Wanting to give them the full experience, Judson has recently made it public that he would not be accepting any more mentees for some time.

Judson has never tried his power, Mythikinesis, within North or South America. He never wanted to use that power without reason and absolute need! He trained with Roman and Ronan off and on in Africa, Asia and Europe years ago and perfected it, much to his dismay. The influx of unfamiliar supernatural creatures and rats has made him uncomfortable. Judson can feel the power boiling over, he is fighting to keep it at bay and from losing control.

While Judson’s plate is full between his shop, mentees and personal life/battles, he has also been putting in effort to help the local witch and warlock population with their phenomena. Specifically he seeks to help those which are not helped with potions, spells or charms. What's foremost on his list is the private experimental study to help find a remedy or cure to the frequent hand spasms that Biokinetics experience daily. Judson does have a few people signed up but is looking for more. Recently, Judson has visited Ryan’s podcast and announced to the local animal shifters that he is finally ready to begin testing on those dealing with dementia or hypershift. 

[a-very-fond-farewell]

The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 15/? Kimi no Na Wa AU: “Seamless” [ok I changed stuff bc I’m well on my way to thirty and teenage love is fun and fresh until you realize you could technically be a parent yourself and then it’s all downhill from there. so the characters are adults, sorry about that] [title comes from (what I understand to be) a way of saying that goes “a goddess’s robe is seamless” which (supposedly) should mean a great plan coming together –which reminded me of fate and time and the whole underlying plot of the movie– or something perfect/the product of perfect craftsmanship. I was looking for info about weaving procedures and I stumbled across this:

From Wikipedia, under “Loom” “In Tang Dynasty, China, the goddess weaver floated down on a shaft of moonlight with her two attendants. She showed the upright court official Guo Han in his garden that a goddess's robe is seamless, for it is woven without the use of needle and thread, entirely on the loom. The phrase "a goddess's robe is seamless" passed into an idiom to express perfect workmanship. This idiom is also used to mean a perfect, comprehensive plan.”

There’s also reference to the legend of Vega and Altair, which is what the Japanese festival tanabata is based on. And my creative juices gave me a sugar high so...yeah] * No matter how isolated Gusu is known to be, preparations for the upcoming July festival attract people from all over the country. Time has relentlessly transformed what used to be a secluded and safe place for people to meditate in into a tourist location known for its cold springs and breathtaking sceneries. Yet, Lan Zhan wonders what cities and stories could possibly hide behind those mountains he has known for all his life.

Managing the temple of the goddess along with his older brother and uncle should bring him joy, but deep down he knows he’s still living beside them more out of obligation than anything else. Lan Huan himself feels trapped behind the usual mask of politeness and fake smiles, his heart still bleeding for the loss of his two precious friends in the span of five years. Their uncle Lan QiRen well may have taken them in when they were mere children, stepping in to take care of them in place of their mourning father after losing his wife... but Lan Zhan knows his brother doesn’t want to disappoint their elder in any way.

Falling in love not once, but two times in a lifetime should not be frowned upon... but Lan QiRen couldn’t stomach the idea of one of his nephews falling for a man the first time, let alone the second. Just having said goodbye to Nie MingJue when they were mere teenagers after their uncle had prohibited him from meeting with his nephew, Lan Huan thought he could have another chance at happiness with Meng Yao in his twenties... just for the other man to fall ill and move country to look after himself. Ever since, Lan Huan has stopped believing in ever being able to find happiness for himself and decided to accept his fate and manage the temple like their uncle did for most of his life.

The idea of celibacy doesn’t sit well with Lan Zhan, not for himself and certainly not for his heartbroken brother, but life outside Gusu seems so far away and unapproachable. Without them the ancient tradition of working the loom to create seamless robes would perish and most of the profits from the temple would fall dry if not for their hard work. Their mother used to be a seamstress herself, teaching them how to weave without breaking the delicate thread, setting the rhythm of their hearts with her feet moving on the pedals as they watched her work her magic day after day. Their robes are still valued for their absolute perfection, even if nowadays they’re bound to be bought not by emperors or kings, but by celebrities and politicians who just want to boast their ego in front of cameras and flashing lights. The set Lan Zhan himself has been working on will take another three months to finish and on top of that he uses his spare time to make the ribbons they sell at the local gift shop while his brother prepares the traditional talismans by hand, his calligraphy as delicate as the products of their weaving. 

As the nights of the local festival approach and they practice the rituals in full traditional gear more to appease the tourists than anything else, Lan Zhan feels getting more and more tired the longer he wears the long wig and the heavy robes himself, wishing his heart could stop being so ungrateful for the life he was entrusted with. But the news of a comet quickly approaching them brings the promise of change as Lan Zhan looks up at the sky and wishes he was born in a different body. Just for once. Just to live at least once in that existence of his.

[more under the cut]

Wei Ying is in university (engineering major), living with his brother Jiang Cheng (marine biology major) in their sister’s tiny ass apartment. They keep her company while she waits for baby Jin Ling to be born, ZiXuan working day and night in the hospital fresh out of med school to get their family a bigger house. Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng moved in from the tiny Yunmeng and secretly hate the big city life, but their studies come first and they didn’t want to leave YanLi alone while pregnant. Their parents are still working in the countryside and couldn’t properly care for her, living so far away in Lanling.

Wei Ying works part time in a bar and the usual routine is so rooted in his system that he doesn’t even care anymore. Study, eat, work, sleep. Rinse and repeat. He would like to think his brother has it easier than him, but he’s even more elusive than him, studying in the library until his night shift in an art gallery as a guard. The poor guy doesn’t even sleep, let alone have a social life. Spring has just begun and YanLi still has a trimester to go, her spirits low even if she loves her child very much already. Keeping her company and helping her leading a normal life is their priority as her brothers, but sometimes Wei Ying wishes things were easier.

He doesn’t really want to become an engineer, or, at least... he used to want that. But he’s more interested in actually making stuff instead of taking a hundred calculus classes per semester. He wishes he could enjoy his studies more and maybe get a girlfriend or boyfriend to pass the time, not that he believes in romance or anything. Commitment sounds scary.

One day he wakes up and... nah, he’s still dreaming. The ceiling is wrong, he doesn’t live in an old traditional cottage with a view on... wtf is that a mountain? Fuck that he doesn’t have time to waste, he has a test today. Studied hard enough last night he fell asleep on the desk... better start getting ready.

So he goes to the bathroom and showers, too tired to even open his eyes. But the shampoo smells all wrong, what even is sandalwood? And he doesn’t like mint toothpaste. And why are his clothes a size bigger? He doesn’t even own a button down, what in the...?

Who the fuck is that in the mirror??!?

On the other hand, Lan Zhan wakes up on a desk, drool on the books, late for a test an angry stranger reminds him he has to take in half an hour at best. He is presented with a soup his body mechanically ingests out of habit as he tries to politely nod to whatever the kind woman in front of him is saying. (“You look sick, are you really okay?” / “A-Jie stop babying him” / “But I’ve never seen him so... quiet?” / “He’s probably pretending so that he can skip his test.”) But if he really has given his word for such a commitment... maybe he should just go.

Still, he doesn’t remember going to any university. That may be a problem.

His body feels different, but he never paid attention to his reflection. They don’t even own mirrors back at home anyway. He doesn’t remember his hair reaching well over his ears and under his jaw. Should he consider asking his brother to cut it for him? It feels greasy, should he fix it or?

As he tucks a strand behind his ear he realizes something is terribly wrong. From the tip of his nose to the width of his shoulders, from the clothes he put on without even thinking. The window of the shop under the apartment he’s just left shows him a stranger that he cannot recognizes for the life of his.

And now some funny stuff:

(If you are not familiar with the movie, go watch it. But if you are you should be fine with the following list so... enjoy)

Jiang Cheng loves dogs, but Wei Ying is allergic and they cannot get a puppy... so he de-stresses at a local dog café whenever he can. Wen Qing works there even if she’s a cat person and comments on how he’s secretly planning to murder her so he can get her job. They’re good friends and dated for a while before Wen Qing understood her lesbianism was stronger and Jiang Cheng’s chaotic bisexuality was leaning more on the boy section of the partner store anyway. They bitch about everything and everyone anyway.

Lan Zhan (in Wei Ying’s body) manages to arrive in university and take the test, getting perfect scores even if Wei Ying’s never got such a high mark. For the rest of the day he roams Lanling in awe, believing it’s just a very nice dream. He also discovers the existence of pet bunnies in a pet store and his life changes.

Wei Ying (in Lan Zhan’s body) is a mess. Lan Huan immediately notices something is wrong, but he hasn’t really smiled in several months and whatever is happening to WangJi is extremely entertaining to him. He sees him skipping the morning prayers right in front of Lan QiRen’s salad (so to speak) and he doesn’t seem to remember the existence of their uncle’s punishing bamboo stick.

He also clearly never used a loom in his life, but luckily Lan QiRen is too busy to notice as he welcomes tourists in the temple and explains them the history behind it. Lan Huan takes “Lan Zhan” out for a stroll and they sit down as Lan QiRen’s mellow voice explains the legend of the weaver goddess and the importance of the artisanal work they still keep practicing to this day. Transfixed, “Lan Zhan” smiles big at his brother and Lan Huan knows for sure this is not his WangJi at all.

Wen Qing finds “Wei Ying” petting bunnies in the shop where her current girlfriend MianMian works and notices how... awfully quiet he is. She thinks he bombed the math test and might be sad, but he doesn’t seem to recognize her when she waves her hand at him. She then reminds him he should be getting ready for work and he blanches at the idea. Eventually asking her “where he’s supposed to depart for” and honest to the gods Wen Qing ends up convincing herself he’s high as fuck.

Imagine “Lan Zhan” being reprimanded by Lan QiRen for -gods forbid- laughing too loud? Asking for a beer at the local tea house? Saying out loud that he craves meat when he’s vegetarian? That’s just a dream for poor Wei Ying, whatever! He’s having a great time and Lan Huan is this close to lose it when they practice the traditional rites together and “Lan Zhan” doesn’t know how to put the long wig on anymore.

Now imagine “Wei Ying” not knowing how to use a shaker at work, or how to make a martini, or the fact that he and a boy named Wen Ning are actually coworkers and not strangers. He goes back home at 3am with the feeling he has forgotten something important, but when he finally (finally) finds his apartment he falls asleep on the doorway. Too drained by the city life to even change out of his uniform.

Next day there’s no switch: Wei Ying wakes up in his body by the doorway, with Jiang Cheng coming back from his night shift and panicking hard; Lan Zhan wakes up in his bed but he’s somewhat grounded at 20 for... drinking beer?

Technical stuff now!

Lan Zhan lives in 2010 and he is 20, Wei Ying lives in 2015 and he is 20.

It’s LXC who suggest his brother to keep a diary for his dreams if they get too crazy (later on it will be revealed something shocking about LXC, but for now the journaling is just a “suggestion”)

WWX and LWJ switch every other night or so, and things change when WWX wakes up in LWJ’s body and finds the diary.

They keep in touch with diaries [bc I don’t think LWJ would have a phone like...ever, but I digress]

WWX notices the two Jades of Gusu are kept outside of their peers’ circles because other people think their family is weird: they still use courtesy names; they don’t eat meat; most of their relatives are believed to have died in celibacy without actually being monks themselves; they don’t drink alcohol and are deemed unsociable... and so on.

But it’s when he overhears people bashing LXC for “his past with several boys” and for “running away from society like his father” that WWX (in LWJ’s body) actually loses it and starts a fistfight right then and there until those losers stop muttering behind their backs.

In the meantime, ZiXuan comes back home to surprise YanLi... and LWJ is there (in WWX’s body) and the younger man almost doesn’t let him enter bc he doesn’t know who this strange man is and what does he want from Jiang Cheng’s sister?

LWJ also follows JC to his night shift one day bc he’s never seen an art gallery (but apparently WWX often trails behind his younger step brother anyway, so JC doesn’t notice anything weird... aside from how quiet the other is)

JC then takes that opportunity to ask his brother (while LWJ inhabits said body) if... if he’s depressed and needs help [“Wen Qing saw you petting bunnies too many times for you to be ‘just fine’. You can talk to me.” / “it’s fine.” / “fuck that you’re not fine. Stop lying to me.” / “it’s just a transitional time for me, it will pass” / “who taught you such big words, what the fuck”] and then JC begrudgingly tells his brother than he loves him and doesn’t want him to be sad.

The next day WWX is back in his body and finds written down: “your brother tells me he loves you and that you should take better care of yourself” and WWX clowns the fuck out of JC the following day and JC is like “noPe. You’re fucking fine. Whatever, your fucking with me. You’re always fucking with me. Stupid of me to fucking care, gods forbid.”

LWJ starts developing feeling when he learns WWX defended Lan Huan + LWJ goes every night he can to the art gallery when he doesn’t have to work at the bar and learns there’s an entire section of the gallery dedicated to Gusu + but he doesn’t want to think about home for now, avoiding the exhibit, and so he learns more about JC and starts to think he would have lots of things to talk about with LXC.

Lan QiRen takes his nephews to their annual purification trip to Burial Mounds, to a cave hidden on the mountain where it is said the goddess met with her lover for the first time in the past. They leave their offerings and change the ropes securing the entrance of the cave with sturdier ones, which they have made themselves prior that year. It is said that whoever enters the cave will be granted a wish, so it’s responsibly of the Lan family to keep everyone else out until the lover of the goddess returns to be granted the wish to reunite with her. It’s a privilege the goddess has left for him to enjoy and no mortal should dare take that from him. Only those who wear the sacred headband of the Lan family can enter without being cast out of the cave and be forced to leave by the spirits.

WWX falls in love with LWJ a bit everyday: the little gifts and notes he finds on his desk for WWX to open and read every morning; the beautiful drawings LWJ makes of the mountains; the care he put in the white robes that should adorn a deity and not common human beings.

crushed with longing for WWX, LWJ wishes to meet with him one day (the real him) and so he runs away from Gusu on train and reaches Lanling and searches for him at the university. But he’s not there. He looks everywhere for him, but doesn’t find him. Until he stumbles into YanLi and it’s almost like there’s a wall between them: shocked, LWJ recognizes YanLi even if he knows she has never actually met him in real life; but the worst thing is that... she’s not pregnant. She’s not even at home as she usually is, but going to university herself and it doesn’t even seem like she’s even in a relationship with ZiXuan yet: the two of them not even sparing a glance to one another in the university corridors.

LWJ finds his words at long last, asking YanLi if her brother Wei Ying is well. She beams at him at first, elated to see her brother actually has friends outside of the family... “but you look around my age, right? What business do you have being friends with a fifteen year old boy anyway?”

Shocked, the last thing LWJ can do before leaving her alone is to give her a ribbon he made himself, the one that represents his heart. “I just know him by chance, he... he helped my brother once. I was wondering how to repay his kindness so I made this for him. Can you give it to him?”

That evening he goes back to Gusu and he prepares for the festival knowing the comet is coming. The last thing he wishes is to forget about Wei Ying, because -having realized there’s a discrepancy in timelines and that he has interacted with someone from the future for months now- he cannot possibly justify having developed feelings for a minor.

There are no more switches and WWX is left wondering what happened.

Now the sad part:

Under the weather for what happened, WWX follows JC around a lot and he even adopts a couple of bunnies to cope. YanLi is closer and closer to the due date and gets restless, forcing her brothers to clean up the entire apartment with her until everything sparkles for the baby’s arrival. They dig out an old box with all of YanLi’s stuff from university and LWJ’s ribbon appears out of nowhere. WWX immediately recognizes it for what it is.

[“I’m sorry A-Ying, I was supposed to give you this back then, but I forgot.” / “What are you taking about... why do you have a Gusu’s ribbon with you?” / “Ah, was your acquaintance from up there? He said you helped his brother once, or something like that... and he wanted to thank you. I’m really sorry.” / “How long ago was that A-Jie?” / “Five years or so? I think?”]

To this JC startles, saying that’s awfully weird, considering what happened to Gusu exactly five years prior. To which WWX is like ?pardon? and then JC takes them to the art gallery to the traditional art section, where the exhibit on Gusu is: there, WWX finally remembers how a relatively small rock has detached itself from the comet and destroyed Gusu in 2010 on the final day of the July festival.

On a display there, the siblings find one of the few things spared by the fire: an unfinished set of robes weaved with the precious heavenly silk, which was said to be made from the stars themselves.

Wei Ying cries all of his tears, neither JC or YanLi can console him and the only thing they come up with is that -maybe- their brother felt bad for forgetting to cherish a friendship... but they don’t remember if he had reacted so badly five years ago when the news of the fire at Gusu broke.

In the middle of the night, with the ribbon secured around his wrist, Wei Ying runs away and takes a train to Gusu. There are no more direct lines and he has to hike all the way up there... just to see a lake where the town was supposed to be. The crater so big it swallowed the ground where half of the city used to be.

Desperate, he wanders the mountains without knowing where to go, until his feet take him to the secluded path Uncle QiRen took him once. He follows it, noticing the same ribbons knotted around the trees he saw the first time he walked there. He follows the path and reaches the cave.

Inside, nothing happens. The talismans are still there, but -as he imagined (*eyeroll emoji*)- there’s no actual magic preventing him from entering. So he jumps over the white ropes made of ribbons and silk and gets inside the cave of Burial Mounds. He takes shelter there from the storm outside and thinks of Lan Zhan, of how much he misses him. And then he cries thinking about him and his brother and their uncle and the entire Gusu: because none of them deserved to die. And he wishes he can rewind time and save them all.

He faints in the cave and his wish is granted.

Now for the good part!

He wakes up in LWJ’s body (in 2010), the day after the boy’s impromptu trip to Lanling, the last day of the July festival. He gets to work as soon as he goes downstairs, determination painting his (well, LWJ’s) features to the point Lan Huan notices... and he has to say something.

While they ate breakfast, out of Lan QiRen’s sight, Lan Huan sits his “brother” down and tells him something unexpected: that he used to switch bodies with not one but with two people at the same time, NMJ and JGY.

That he managed to finally meet NMJ in their teens when the older boy came to Gusu for a school trip... but he didn’t want to leave bc he had finally found LXC and didn’t want to part ways. Lan QiRen put end to the older boy’s silly antics and the two friends agreed to meet in secret, before Lan Huan put a end to the relationship for fear of displeasing his uncle. The three friends kept switching bodies until one day they stopped.

Then Meng Yao came to find him and told him he had discovered the truth of what happened: that NMJ had a car accident and lost most of his memories of their years as friends and that now was living somewhere else with the woman he fell in love with. Meng Yao himself tried to live in Gusu for a few years afterwards, regardless of his poor health, eventually deciding to not make Lan Huan worry and disappeared without a word to take care of himself (or to die far away enough so that Lan Huan didn’t have to see him at his worst).

Lan Huan said that it took him years to remember their names and that he was able to finally utter them in front of his brother only the previous year, at the last July festival. He also reveals WWX that trying to remember something so simple caused him great pain, to the point he believed he could let himself die that way, starving himself from human connection.

Impressed and sorrowful, WWX cries for him and wishes things were different for Lan Huan, who’s only 23 and yet had suffered more than anyone else. But Lan Huan is content with what he has, even if he feels guilty for being the reason Meng Yao neglected his health. Yet he’s happy for NMJ and doesn’t regret befriending them at all.

With his help, WWX alerts people in Gusu: LXC finally standing up for himself against their uncle in order to gain his respect and convince him of the emergency at hand.

On the other hand, LWJ wakes up in the cave in WWX’s body (in 2015) and doesn’t know why he’s there. Yet he knows the way out and travels back following the ribbons... but when he reaches Gusu he sees there’s only a crater filled with water and doesn’t know what to do. He knows of the time discrepancy between the two realities, but he doesn’t know what to think.

WWX realizes LWJ must be in his body somewhere on the Burial Mounds, from the top of which Gusu can be seen, but he doesn’t know if he would find his own body in the cave, since the year now is 2010 and WWX reached the cave by himself only in 2015. Yet something tells him to go and so he leaves for the mountain.

On top of the Burial Mounds, he doesn’t find anyone.

But Lan Zhan is there, on the other side of the veil between present and future.

And as the light of the sun fades away and dusk approaches, Wei Ying enters his body and Lan Zhan gets back inside his own. They meet for the first time and Wei Ying doesn’t know what to say, having never seen Lan Zhan’s body from outside and feeling suddenly very self conscious and uninteresting.

To which Lan Zhan responds with “are you legal?” / “what the fuck Lan Zhan.” / “I gave you my ribbon. did you receive it?” / “yes, my... my sister gave it to me like, yesterday.” / “yesterday as in... what year?” / “2015”

And then Lan Zhan kisses the hell out of him because nothing screams romanticism to him like a relationship between two contenting adults and Wei Ying gets blissed out of his pants for that single kiss on the spot. In between kisses Wei Ying tries to convince Lan Zhan to stop, that there’s something they should remember... or at least something they should not forget.

But Lan Zhan does not relent, hugging and holding Wei Ying, finally... finally keeping him close and never letting him go.

Until Wei Ying disappears and the only thing left of him is the white ribbon Lan Zhan has given him.

They forgot to write their names, so that they would not forget them like LXC has done for years.

And finally.....!

years have passed, it’s the beginning of 2020 [sans quarantine, thank you] and Wei Ying has graduated and is looking for a job. He doesn’t remember Lan Zhan.

Jiang Cheng has found a job close to the sea at the local aquarium and the only thing he talks about on the phone is “how useless his new intern is. a nobody late bloomer who discovered the mountain wasn’t for him and decided to study in the opposite direction, go figure. Gusu must have bored him alright. but the other day he reminded me mountains are actually ancient reefs and now I think I’m in love.” So all is well.

(Gusu did not fall and everyone was evacuated in time. Lan Zhan had descended the mountain and made sure his brother got his backup in convincing their uncle of the emergency. He doesn’t remember either, but he always keeps his ribbon on his wrist, feeling like he’s waiting for someone to get it back.)

On a snowy night they cross paths on a pedestrian bridge, but don’t recognize each other... until Wei Ying’s scent of lotus reaches Lan Zhan. But the other has already disappeared behind a corner of the ever busy Lanling and they miss each other once again.

The following day, when Wei Ying has just dropped Jin Ling at his kindergarten and is about to cross a road, he sees a familiar face on the other side of the street. Both of them are talking to the phone: Wei Ying to Jiang Cheng, who’s calling him from a toilet, panicking about his first date with the intern; and Lan Zhan with his brother Lan XiChen, who’s waiting for his date to come back from the bathroom in the restaurant they chose to meet at.

As they walk towards each other they sense something, but don’t stop. Until they have now reached their respective sides of the road and realize what just happened. They turn around, but there are too many cars in between them.

They look for a way to meet and run towards a pedestrian bridge right above the road. They make the steps two at a time until they’re out of breath on top and stare at each other after so long. Wei Ying has lived for five years feeling like half of him was missing, but Lan Zhan had spent twice as long waiting for something to change in his life.

(“I’m still legal, you know?” / “That’s the first thing you decide to tell me after ten years? Really?” / “you thought it was romantic last time” / “what’s that supposed to mean?” / “that you should kiss me right the fuck now, you big oaf.”)

They meet in the middle of the bridge and kiss.

Then, Lan Zhan tilts his head and ask “what was you name again?”, clearly amused, and waits until Wei Ying’s laughter resonates all around.

The fucking end.

Now I need a break.

*

[mermaider00]

Do you think you could write a little something in that human ventor au

Oh yes yes! This snippet is from my human!Ventor AU where Lotor moves to a beach town to escape his family and meets a sweet and quirky girl named Ven’tar. Enjoy

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

The island was hot, humid, and sunny. It was like that all year and the only season that really mattered was hurricane season, but that consistency was a breath of fresh air to Lotor. Hot, humid, and sunny - with the occasional rain and wind storms - was easier to manage than four seasons in the city. Four seasons at home. Four seasons with his strict father and his distant mother and the life they’d tried to mold for him since the day he entered the world as a quiet baby. Packing his bags and leaving it all behind was the best decision he’d ever made. The four seasons in the city had given him loneliness, depression, paranoia, and nightmares. 

The island had set him free. 

It had taken him some time to adjust to island life, to begin again with the vast inheritance he’d taken from Zarkon Daibazaal, but at thirty-three years old, Lotor Sincline thought it was time to take what was his as he left his family forever and changed his last name. Quintessence Island was his new home now, though it had been a rough start in a brand new world where no one knew who he was. He’d used his money to buy a house on the beach and open Oriande Books, which did surprisingly well on an island that catered to vacationers all year round. He met new people when the locals had been very curious about the handsome new resident of their island, had adjusted to the weather, made connections. Lived his life with peace now, as peaceful as the rolling waves of the sea that were right outside his front door a short walk away from town. 

Lotor steered his dark blue jeep, the salty air whipping through his long hair the color of gray stone he’d inherited from his mother. He’d tied it back into a braid for fear of terrible knots from the openness of his vehicle, but it felt good to fly through the air, to see the ocean on his left. To drive to a home that belonged solely to him. Acxa was manning the shop so he could head back to the big house and work on the paperwork end of book selling in his office. The sky was bright blue, the road was clear. A group of surfers were running towards the waves on the beach. 

His foot went to the brake when he noticed a moving black creature right in the middle of the road. 

Lotor stopped the jeep, put it in park. No one was around on the roads, and if they needed to pass him, they simply would without a care. It was more important to slow everyone down anyway until he removed the animal from the street. Someone close to him now wouldn’t appreciate it if he left the poor thing to get run over by a careless driver. With boots crunching on the asphalt, Lotor approached the squirmy black bundle. He stopped, looked down. 

A kitten, he saw. A very tiny, black kitten left all alone on the street. 

Instantly he bent to pick it up. He checked it for fleas, for burns from the hot road. A boy kitten, he noticed as well. Lotor cradled him to his chest, then looked around for a mother cat. He even waited a moment or two as the kitten mewed against him. 

“Well,” he said to the tiny fur ball that was digging its tiny claws into his white shirt. “I can’t just leave you here. The evil gulls might take you.” 

The kitten let out a meep. 

Lotor smiled, though he was unsure about caring for such a small kitten who looked young enough that it might still need its mother. His legs were so tiny, he hadn’t made it fully across the street. Holding him close, Lotor climbed back into the jeep. Instantly he reached for his cell phone. He didn’t know how to take care of a kitten, and his home was closer than the local vet clinic. 

He called the best person he knew to tell him what he should do. And she answered on the second ring. 

“Hi, handsome,” she said. 

His smile was immediate. “I found a cat, Ven. A kitten. He was in the middle of the road.” 

He heard a very audible gasp through the phone. “Is he okay? Let me talk to him.” 

Lotor shook his head. She said the strangest things sometimes. “Who gave you your job at the zoo? He can’t talk to you, Ven’tar, he’s a cat. A tiny one.” 

“What’s he saying?” 

“He’s...” Lotor looked down in his lap, trying to keep the kitten in the cradle of his shirt. “Meeping.” 

“Meeping,” she repeated, and he could picture her nodding. “My shift is almost up. I’ll stop by the store to get him a few things and then I’ll meet you at your place.” 

“No, Ven, I can’t keep him, don’t buy him things--” 

He sighed. She’d already disconnected. 

Ven’tar Quinn, the quirkiest woman he’d ever met in his life. A local of the island who worked at Kompassia Zoo tending to the animals, and his first real friend. More than friends? Lotor wondered as he remembered the night of his first hurricane and how she’d come to help board up his house and ride out the storm with him. The power had gone out and there were candles and darkness and they had been bored and she had been lovely... 

Ven didn’t talk about that night, or the next morning when she’d stretched out in his bed as naked as the day she’d been born. He figured it had been a one time thing. Maybe it was. 

Or maybe it wasn’t, he thought as he pulled up to his big house. 

It wasn’t long until he heard her feet scampering up to his door, letting herself inside in her flip flops and her breezy green sundress and a couple of shopping bags in her hands. Her oddly cut black hair was tousled from the sea breeze and her green eyes were wild as they searched for a little lost kitten. 

“Oh, precious baby. Sweet, sweet precious baby,” she cooed as she scooped him up from the small blanket Lotor had set him on. Ven had a way with animals that would never cease to amaze him, and already the kitten was softly purring against her. “Who left you in the street? Who? Lotor defended you, didn’t he? He kept you safe, he’s a good cat daddy already, isn’t he?” 

He sighed. “Hello, Ven’tar.” 

“He doesn’t have fleas,” Ven said, more to herself than to him as she inspected the kitten’s belly and black fur. “His paws looked a little burned, but some good recovery time in a comfy house will heal them right up. I think he’d old enough to try a little tuna I brought for him. He’s hungry,” she said to Lotor, meeting his blue eyes. “Can you fix him something while I love on him some more? He’s been through a lot.” 

Ven’tar loved animals more than she liked people, but it seemed he’d become the one exception to that rule. Knowing she was now lost to the kitten, Lotor spooned out a little tuna in the kitchen, filled a small bowl with some cold water. Every now and then he would glance over at Ven, at the way the skirt of her sundress swished around her thighs, or the delicate way her hands cradled the black kitten. He was a man who had run away from all his previous connections, had wanted nothing more than to live a very quiet and relationship-free life on an island where he could be alone and do what he wanted. 

But he liked having her around. He really liked... her. A lot. She was like a rainbow. Colorful and lovely and promising. Colors after a bad storm. 

“You might want to take him to the clinic tomorrow, just to get him all checked out,” Ven said, placing the kitten on the floor along with the bowls of food and water Lotor set down. “I think he looks good though. A little young to be without his mama, but we can make it work. He’ll need a name,” she added with a grin as she looked up at him. 

“I’m not naming him because I’m not keeping him,” Lotor told her, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“You don’t think this meeting was destiny? You don’t think you were meant to find him because you two were meant to be together? In another reality, Lotor, this little guy could’ve been your childhood pet. In space.” 

“I highly doubt that. My father despised cats. And your imagination is something else.” 

Ven tilted her head and lifted one black brow. “Of all the people in this town, you were the one to spot him on the street. He would be dead if it wasn’t for you. That makes you his hero. He’s going to repay you with a lifetime of companionship.” 

“He’s going to repay me by pissing all over my house and keeping me up all night when he wants to play. If you want to give him a home, take him back to your place.” 

Of course she knew he didn’t mean for his words to come off as cruel. Lotor Sincline had an issue with attaching himself to others, especially by the heart. She had almost had to force her way into friendship when she’d discovered he’d had no one. Lotor had called out to her, just as this little kitten eating away called out to Lotor for safety. 

“You know I can’t keep him in my studio apartment, those heathens who own the place won’t allow pets. You have a big house that’s just crying out for a handsome black cat to watch over it. A handsome cat for a handsome man.” 

He eyed her and pointed one long finger at her. “Don’t try to sweet talk me, Quinn.” 

Ven only giggled, then gently took his hand so she could kiss the tip of the finger he held up. “I could help you take care of him, you know. That means I would be over a lot more. And I just happen to find kitten rescuers very attractive.” 

Lotor remained still when she stepped up to him, when she wrapped his arm around her waist and especially when she took his face in her hands and leaned up to softly peck his mouth. She’d painted her nails purple and her lips tasted like cherries. 

More than just friends, he decided. 

One bat of her long black lashes over her beautiful green eyes had him melting, though he tried hard not to show it. 

“Are you trying to seduce me into keeping this cat?” he asked her. 

She innocently lifted a shoulder. Her smile was like a ray of the sun. “Yeah,” she answered simply. 

With his hand on her waist and her arms around his neck, Lotor glanced down at the little black kitten. Maybe he really could train him to be a guard cat, to keep strangers away. And maybe it would be nice to have another living thing in this house with him when he was all alone, someone who wouldn’t bother him. 

Cats were... pleasing. 

“My mother used to have a cat, before she met my father,” he said softly. Usually he didn’t speak of his family life, not even to the therapist he’d had since he was a boy. But everything came easily with Ven’tar. “His name was Kova. I think... his name should be Kova.” 

“Kova,” Ven repeated with a big smile. “I love it. I guess I’ll have to spend the night now. To help you look after him.” 

Lotor pulled her against him and murmured, “I guess you will.” And kissed her again. 

[mxliv-oftheendless]

The Bridge of the Demonic Goatman (Part 2)

Because this story is way too long to post all in one place, I’ve been forced to post it in parts. Part 1 has already been posted. Here is Part 2, where Gene, Vinnie, and Paul, go into the woods. 

Also, I realize how shitty the editing here is. Because Tumblr is being a fucking bitch (so y’know, the usual for Tumblr), this is how it’s gonna have to be. You should be able to figure out who’s speaking, though. Enjoy!

GENE [voiceover]: Perhaps more foreboding than the bridge is the woods that lies beyond it. It is rumored that for nearly a hundred years, people have disappeared near the bridge or in the surrounding woods. Along with the Goatman, people have reported seeing the ghostly figure of a woman and hearing the sounds of a woman’s voice or laughter. There have also been sightings of flashing lights.

--

[Paul, Gene, and Vinnie are now walking through the woods. Like on the bridge, the only parts of the forest we see are the parts lit up by their camera flashlights. Everything else is pitch-black]

PAUL: Okay, I will admit… this is pretty creepy.

GENE: I feel like I’m in every damn horror movie I’ve ever seen, and I hate it.

VINNIE: This reminds me of the time I went camping with my Boy Scout troupe.

PAUL: You don’t seem the type to have been in a Boy Scout troupe.

VINNIE: I wasn’t. My dad made me sign up. He let me quit after fifth grade, though.

PAUL: Oh, okay.

GENE: Guys, seriously… I’m gettin’ pretty nervous now. [shouts into the woods] Is there anyone out there?

PAUL: [shouts] Hello!

[there is no response apart from crickets. They continue walking]

GENE: People usually report being overcome with emotion in here.

VINNIE: Like…

GENE: Like, a violent emotion.

PAUL: Do you feel that way?

GENE: Uh, no. I don’t.

PAUL: Okay, good.

GENE: Not yet, at least.

PAUL: Just give me and Vinnie a heads-up when you start to feel… murder-y.

GENE: Yeah, I’ll do that.

PAUL: Great.

VINNIE: Thanks, Gene. 

--

GENE [voiceover]: These woods are rumored to be the sight of Satanic rituals, attempting to conjure demonic entities. One paranormal investigator claimed to have found animal remains, suggesting evidence of sacrificial rituals. In fact, one local police officer told us that local pet stores stopped selling cats due to the amount of sacrificed cats being found in these woods.

Oh my God, they killed the cats? Did any survive?

Uh, no, not that I know of.

Those poor cats…

By the way, I forgot to mention, these woods are also dangerous because of the people that may be in there.

I mean, people can be greater threats than demons or ghouls, so… that’s fair.

I just realized we don’t have a way to defend ourselves if we get attacked by a person.

We probably won’t get attacked, Gene.

I have a keychain knife if that happens.

Oh, well good. If we get attacked, we’ll just let Vinnie save us.

I don’t think a keychain knife will—

The nutcases that live in the woods will cower in fear before Vinnie Vincent and his mighty keychain knife.

*wheeze* Ha ha…

*sigh* Never mind.

You’re my hero, Vinnie.

Thank you.

--

[cut back to Gene, Paul, and Vinnie walking through the forest]

GENE: Is there anybody out here?

PAUL: Any… Any cultists? Any Satanists? Anyone up to some crazy cult stuff out here?

VINNIE: Anyone cutting off the head of a defenseless, innocent cat?

PAUL: Still mad about that, huh?

VINNIE: Yes.

[they continue walking, swinging their flashlights around]

GENE: Y’know, guys, I feel like we might genuinely come to close to dying some episode.

PAUL: You think so?

GENE: Yeah… Who in their right mind would go actively searching for ghosts and demons, and make more than one attempt to contact them?

VINNIE: Ah, but remember, Genie: if we’re doing that, then clearly we’re not in our right mind.

GENE: … I guess that’s fair. [he stops and points his flashlight off to the side of the path]

PAUL: You hear something?

GENE: Yeah, I thought I—oh fuck! [camera cuts to looking into the bushes, lit up by Gene’s flashlight] I saw something move. I don’t what’s over there, but I saw the bushes move.

[they move closer to the bushes]

PAUL: [shouts] Hello?

VINNIE: Anybody there?

GENE: Hello? [pause in which nothing happens] Christ…

PAUL: I did see the bush move…

GENE: [swings his flashlight as he looks around] Did you hear that?

VINNIE: Hear what?

GENE: I heard a scream.

PAUL: You sure?

GENE: I’m serious, I heard a scream.

--

FOOTAGE REPLAY: when Gene, Paul, and Vinnie are looking into the bushes.

PAUL: I did see the bush move…

[in the background, amongst the sounds of crickets, there is the sound of a female scream]

[the footage replays over again and the scream is heard again]

--

GENE: Hello?

PAUL: Anyone out there?

[silence]

PAUL: What if we pretend we’re in on it?

VINNIE: Like we’re cultists as well?

PAUL: Yeah.

GENE: I want to tell you to not do that… but I also know you’re gonna do it anyway.

PAUL: Yep. [shouts aloud] We’re here for the cult stuff!

VINNIE: We saw the ad on Craigslist!

GENE: Do you seriously think a cult would advertise itself on Craigslist?

VINNIE: It’s Craigslist, Gene. It’s the only place that would let a cult advertise itself.

[there is still silence]

PAUL: Oh well.

GENE: Let’s keep walking. I don’t want to stay in the same place for too long.

[they continue walking. Along the way they pass a sign with unreadable graffiti letters spray-painted on it]

PAUL: You nervous, Gene?

GENE: Very nervous.

PAUL: Don’t worry. Remember, Vinnie’s got his keychain knife. He’s ready to stab a bitch.

VINNIE: [nods] Yep.

--

FOOTAGE REPLAY: as Gene, Vinnie, and Paul walk past the sign.

Paul: He’s ready to stab a bitch.

[in the background, there is another distant scream, this time sounding male]

[the footage replays again and the scream is heard again]

--

[Gene, Paul, and Vinnie come to a spot where branches stick out, forming something that looks a little like a structure]

PAUL: Hey, check this out. Looks kind of like a house… Perhaps a house where witches gathered? To make spells and curses? To summon dark spirits?

GENE: [hisses] Shut up, Paul.

[they move to stand in the middle of the structure and look around]

VINNIE: This doesn’t look like a human-made house.

PAUL: Who knows, Vinnie, maybe it wasn’t made by a human at all…

GENE: I’m gonna kill you, Paul. [suddenly turns and points his flashlight into the woods] Did you hear that?

--

FOOTAGE REPLAY: Paul, Gene, and Vinnie standing in the middle of the structure.

GENE: I’m gonna kill you, Paul.

[a quiet voice is heard, a male voice yelling “Fuck!”]

GENE: Did you hear that?

[footage replays over again]

--

VINNIE: Hear what?

GENE: A voice, I thought I heard a voice.

PAUL: Who’s out there? Are you a cult member? [Paul moves out of the structure further into the trees. Vinnie follows with Gene behind Vinnie]

PAUL: C’mon out!  

GENE: Paul—

PAUL: Take off your cloak!

VINNIE: Release the cat you’re about to murder.

[they move closer together as they walk. There is complete silence. Gene suddenly stops and startles]

GENE: Ah!

[Paul and Vinnie look. It’s a bush]

VINNIE: [smiling slightly] Just a plant, Gene.

PAUL: [definitely smiling wider than Vinnie] You got scared by a plant?

GENE: Shut up, this forest is messing with my head.

[all three of them suddenly turn around]

--

FOOTAGE REPLAY: right before they turn around.

GENE: Shut up, this forest is messing with my head.

[there is a barely audible sound of a snapping branch. They all turn around]

[footage replays over again]

--

GENE: Did you hear that?

VINNIE: I definitely heard that.

PAUL: Yep, me too.

[they move over to where they heard the sound]

GENE: Oh God…

PAUL: Who’s out there?

VINNIE: I’ve got a knife!

[silence]

PAUL: If there are any cultists out here, I must warn you, we have protection.

GENE: Goddammit, Paul, shut up!

PAUL: [ignoring him] We’ve got a keychain knife, and a water gun!

VINNIE: It’s holy water!

[silence]

PAUL: Well, I was right. There’s no one out here. Though that branch snapping was suggestive.

GENE: Yeah. Let’s leave.

--

GENE [voiceover]: Multiple investigators have picked up on the name “Steve” through EVP and spirit box sessions, perhaps the name that the Goatman or another entity is going by.

I’m sorry… Steve?

Yep. Steve.

… So you’re saying that if the Goatman truly exists, and it’s really the Goatman’s voice investigators pick up… he’s using the name Steve?

That’s pretty much it, yeah.

*snickering* That’s so fucking stupid…

What fucking demon wakes up in the morning and thinks, “You know what would be a really frightening name? Steve!” Are you making this up?

I am not making this up.

God, what a fucking copout…

GENE [voiceover]: Overall, this Goatman entity and/or the other possible entities that haunt the bridge and these woods are said to be extremely dangerous and physical with those who encounter them. People have reported being thrown, dragged, and struck, and multiple people have claimed to be scratched three times, a reportedly common occurrence in demonic attacks that is a symbolic mocking of the Holy Trinity. People have also claimed to be overcome with feelings of aggression and violence. In one instance, an investigator had envisioned murdering her entire team of investigators.

--

[back to the woods with Gene, Paul, and Vinnie. Gene has the spirit box in his hands]

PAUL: And we’re breaking out the spirit box again, huh?

VINNIE: This’ll be interesting, we’ve never used it to talk to a demon before.

GENE: Yeah, so… we’ll see how this goes. Okay, I’m turning it on. It’s gonna be loud.

[Gene turns on the spirit box. Immediately there is loud white noise]

GENE: So just as a reminder, this spirit box is flipping through radio stations at an incredibly fast rate. Every two-tenths of a second, it switches to a different channel, and it produces white noise. And conceivably, spirits could use this to communicate with us.

PAUL: Or a demon in this case.

GENE: Or a demon, thank you, Paul. If we hear a voice saying more than one word, then the chances are very good that it’s a spirit, or a demon, talking to us.

VINNIE: Can I ask first?

GENE: Sure.

VINNIE: Okay. [raises his voice] Is there anyone here with us?

[white noise is the only response]

PAUL: Let me try. [raises voice] Is there a Goatman here with us?

[more white noise. Then there is a sudden, very noticeable noise from the spirit box]

GENE: What the fuck was that?

VINNIE: Ask again!

PAUL: Is there a demon here with us?

[from the spirit box, we hear a voice saying “Stop”]

PAUL: Is there a Goatman here? We kicked you off your bridge, Goatman; got anything to say about that?

[white noise. Then a voice says what sounds like “Goatman”]

GENE: That sounded like “Goatman.”

PAUL: Say your name.

--

FOOTAGE REPLAY: Gene is holding the spirit box. We see Vinnie listening over his shoulder.

[white noise, then the voice saying “Goatman”]

[the footage, and the voice, play over again: “Goatman”]

--

GENE: Is Steve here?

VINNIE: How did you come up with the name “Steve”? You didn’t think any other name was better than that?

[more white noise. Then a voice: “Bridge”]

GENE: I heard “bridge.”

[more white noise. Then another voice, that sounds like the same voice as before: “Steve”]

VINNIE: I heard “Steve.”

--

AUDIO REPLAY:

[white noise]

“bridge”

[white noise]

“Steve”

--

GENE [voiceover]: Based on the response from the spirit box, we’ll be ending our investigation by returning to the apparent epicenter of activity: Old Alton Bridge. Once there, we will perform a ritual that we have never performed before on this show, and that I have never done before in my life.

Wait, you’ve never used a Ouija board before?

Nope.

Seriously?

Yeah, seriously. I don’t screw with that stuff, man.

Gene, you’re willing to use a spirit box but not a Ouija board? C’mon…

Even I’VE used a Ouija board before.

Okay, listen, spirit boxes are different from Ouija boards. Ouija boards… they have the potential to unleash an angry spirit.

C’mon, Gene, people use Ouija boards at parties. They used to sell them at Toys ‘R Us. They’re not that scary.

You would say that… Can we just get this over with?

--

[Gene, Paul, and Vinnie are sitting in the middle of the bridge around the Ouija board. Candles are lit around them. Gene is standing, holding a large box of salt, while Paul and Vinnie are sitting on the bridge]

GENE: I just want to say for the record that this still seems incredibly stupid. We’re opening a doorway, and calling a goddamn demon to talk with us. But, luckily, I have protection. [Vinnie snorts] Shut up, Vinnie. For protection, I’m going to do this.

[Gene walks in a circle around the candles, pouring out the salt]

PAUL: A salt circle. Good idea, Gene.

[Gene finishes pouring out the salt and sets the box aside. He steps into the circle and sits down, and all three place their hands on the planchette]

GENE: So we just place our hands on the planchette and relax them. If there are spirits, then the planchette will move, because they’re moving it. Not because one of us is moving it. Got that, Paul?

PAUL: I wasn’t gonna move it! I wasn’t even thinking of moving it!

GENE: You say, unconvincingly.

PAUL: Whatever, Gene.

VINNIE: I will say, every time I’ve seen a video of someone using a Ouija board, they’re always going, “Whoa!” very dramatically. Like, you can clearly tell they’re playing it up for views.

PAUL: Are they very clearly moving it themselves?

VINNIE: Most of the time, yes. But none of us are going to move it, so… we’ll see what happens.

PAUL: So how do we start?

GENE: I guess by saying our names.

PAUL: Okay, you go first.

GENE: Fine. [out loud] This is Gene.

[they move the planchette across the board to spell out Gene’s name]

PAUL, GENE, and VINNIE: G, E, N, E.

PAUL: I’m Paul. [they spell out Paul’s name]

PAUL, GENE, and VINNIE: P, A, U, L.

GENE: [muttering] Still can’t believe we’re doing this…

VINNIE: And I’m Vinnie. [they spell out Vinnie’s name]

PAUL, GENE, and VINNIE: V, I, N, N, I, E.

GENE: Is there anyone out here, who would like to speak with us?

[silence. They all wait, looking down at the board. The planchette does not move]

PAUL: I just thought of something. If you put salt around us, doesn’t that mean Goatman can’t get to the Ouija board?

VINNIE: … Oh, God, you’re right. Gene—

GENE: But the salt would trap him in here with us. That’s what we want.

PAUL: Well yeah, but what if he was outside the circle when you did it?

GENE: … Well, what do you want me to do about it?

PAUL: Give him an entrance.

GENE: [pauses, then sighs heavily] Fine. [he turns his body around, without taking his hands off the planchette, and blows at the salt] Vinnie, you blow by you.

[Vinnie turns and blows at the salt. Paul does the same, and takes one hand off the planchette and brushes some of the salt away]

PAUL: There. There’s your opening, Steve.

[Vinnie laughs]

[they all turn back around to the Ouija board, and Paul puts his hand back on the planchette]

GENE: If there’s anyone out there that wants to speak with us, now’s the time. What’s your name?

[for a couple beats of silence, there is nothing. Then…]

VINNIE: Oh my God.

PAUL: Oh shit.

GENE: Oh, fuck…

[the planchette is moving, very, very slowly, across the board]

GENE: Fucking—Paul, are you moving it?

PAUL: I swear to God, I’m not moving it. Are you?

GENE: No, I’m not moving it! Vinnie?

VINNIE: I am not moving it.

[they watch the planchette move]

PAUL: It’s going pretty slow.

GENE: If it spells out “Steve”…

VINNIE: If it spells out “Steve” I might start going back to church.

[the planchette moves over the letter “S”]

PAUL: Go faster, you demon fuck!

[Gene and Vinnie jump. Then they start to laugh, Vinnie harder than Gene]

VINNIE: Jesus Christ, Paul…

GENE: Just dropped all decorum, huh?

PAUL: [laughing] I wanted to see if I could catch it off-guard.

GENE: Okay… Well, we have an “S.”

PAUL: How about this? If you can’t spell out your name, then this bridge is officially mine!

GENE: Dammit, Paul…

VINNIE: Seems fair to me.

PAUL: Yeah, it’s perfectly fair.

[the planchette has slowly moved up to the letter “G”]

GENE: I thought it was going for the “E,” but no, that’s “G”.

VINNIE: “G” for Gene?

PAUL: He does know your name. Maybe it’s you he wants, Gene.

GENE: I’m ignoring you two.

[camera circles around Gene, Paul, and Vinnie, looking down at the Ouija board as intense music plays]

GENE: All right, demon, this is your last chance. Tell us your name.

PAUL: Remember the deal.

GENE: [sighs] Okay, yeah, fine. If you can’t spell out your name, it’s Paul’s bridge.

[silence. They wait. Nothing happens]

VINNIE: Well, I guess that settles it.

PAUL: [loudly] This bridge is mine now!

[they take their hands off the planchette]

GENE: Guess that’s it.

PAUL: Ouija boards are crap.

VINNIE: Guys, we still have to close it.

GENE: Oh right.

PAUL, GENE and VINNIE: [move the planchette across “GOODBYE”] G, O, O, D, B, Y, E. [they take their hands off the planchette]

PAUL: Goodbye!

VINNIE: Goodbye, Goatman!

GENE: All right, let’s clean up and get the hell out of here.

[they move to clear away the salt and blow out the candles]

PAUL: Got anything you wanna say, Gene? You were pretty anxious about this all night.

GENE: I mean, I would say I’m feelin’ pretty good right now. I conquered it.

VINNIE: Yeah, you did. We’re proud of you, Genie.

GENE: I’ll just say goodbye, how about that?

PAUL: Yeah, gloat a bit, Gene. This is a win for you.

GENE: [raises his voice] Well, demons… this has been fun. It’s been real… real weird, but hey. So… goodbye. See ya.

PAUL: [picks up a candle and holds it up] As we snuff these candles, so too do we snuff you from this mortal world. [blows out the candle] You fucking cowards.

[Vinnie laughs]

GENE: Paul, if you get dragged off this bridge and thrown into the river, I won’t come and rescue you.

PAUL: He says unconvincingly.

--

[as Gene’s voice narrates, we see a montage of footage from the entire night]

GENE [voiceover]: Nobody knows why the Goatman and surrounding entities haunt this area, and even though we never encountered anything, I personally don’t doubt its existence. Either way, we have once again opened the door for a dark entity to enter our lives. There is a small part of my mind that is disappointed we never saw him, but I would be lying if I said I also wasn’t a little relieved. Regardless, whether or not the Goatman’s Bridge is truly infested will remain… UNSOLVED.

--

[as the credits roll, we cut back to the car. Gene is driving, Vinnie is in the passenger seat, and Paul is in the backseat. Through the windshield, we can see dawn slowly breaking]

VINNIE: I’m sorry, I still can’t get over the fact that the Goatman supposedly goes by the name Steve. [Paul laughs] That’s so fucking lame.

GENE: This experience has taught me nothing, except that you two are fucking weirdos. You know that, right?

PAUL: Ah, you love us.

GENE: I wouldn’t call it “love.”

VINNIE: He says unconvincingly. 

BUZZFEED UNSOLVED SUPERNATURAL

What unsolved mystery do you want to see next?

[fbwzoo]

Top 5 things you would fix about pet stores…

Oh christ, I’m only supposed to pick five things? XD Okay, I’ll try….. These are in order of my preference for fixing from most important to least important.

1) No more animals available. Stop the breeding mills. Stop selling animals that have horrible genetics, that are overcrowded & sick, that are already pregnant, etc. to people who have very little clue what they’re getting into. Ideally pet stores would work with local shelters to show off adoptable pets they have available. Animals would be displayed either in appropriate set ups in-store or come for designated meet-n-greet days for different shelters. Perhaps pictures from local reputable breeders or breeders that are able to ship (like so many reptile breeders will). The pet store shows off the potential animals & gives access to a greater audience, but interested homes will still have to go through the shelter or breeder in order to adopt/purchase an animal. Pet stores should also have a vetting process for both shelters & breeders to weed out those engaging in shady practices. Wild caught animals should have an even more extensive vetting process to check for background of capture, appropriate capture methods, sustainable capturing, and appropriate handling. No sale of threatened or endangered species (I could see cases being made for experienced breeders hoping to establish captive breeding, or zoos wanting to establish breeding programs, but this should be a limited practice & not widely available).

2) No. Dangerous/Unhealthy. Supplies. Like okay, I know everything has the potential to be dangerous, etc. etc., but christ, can we not have seed/nut treats sold for hedgehogs? Can we not have wire wheels sold? And no more of… literally anything sold for hermit crabs, tbh. Time to ban rawhide. And no more non-meat treats sold for ferrets, or shampoos/bathing supplies with essential oils sold for cats & ferrets. A heavy reworking of foods available for non-dog/cat animals, since so many are just garbage. Some conceding could be made for seed foods for parrots that are still stuck on them & need time to change over, but replace most of that shit with pellets. And can we trash colored heat lights already? Want to buy things like prong collars & electric collars? Better have letters from trainers & vets in order to get one.

3) Appropriately sized enclosures only. No tanks or bowls under 5g. Preferably nothing under 10g, to be quite honest. But I could concede 5g for some insects, maybe, possibly small isopod colonies, or a couple fancy beetles. Those crappy little wire bird cages? Smash ‘em. Maybe keep one line of more medium-ish sturdy cages that have some kind of use for travel or sleep cages. If necessary, provide ordering options for large bird cages (if there’s not room for storage/display in-store). Smash all of those crappy Habitrail nonsense for small animals as well. Sell C&C cubes and other appropriate materials for making enclosures/playpens for guinea pigs & rabbits - maybe sell the materials in a package deal for one enclosure, with instructions on putting together. Extra fee for putting enclosure together if desired. Contracts with viv companies to sell vivs in-store or a discount for shipping or something like that. 

4) Emphasis on enrichment. Larger sections for enrichment for different animal species. Enrichment labeled for the different animals it’s applicable for. Handouts or signs detailing enrichment dangers or hazards to avoid for different animal species (like things that aren’t safe for chewing for hamsters/rodents, unsafe foods, appropriate fabrics, etc.). Larger variety of wood for decor, perches, etc. 

5) Reduced produce section. I have no clue how viable this is, but I think it’d be neat if pet stores had contracts with grocery stores in their area to take produce that’s at or just past their use-by date & the pet stores paid a reduced price for it, then place out each day for people to purchase for pets. Not everything could necessarily be used this way, given some foods that aren’t safe for nearly any pet (onions & such). But it seems like most stuff could be used as such and would possibly reduce how much is thrown out from stores? Honestly I’d just like to see more healthy food options available at pet stores in general, like fresh food options for lots of exotics, & raw meaty bones for dogs/cats/ferrets, and birdy bread & grain mixes & such for parrots/rats/etc.

A lot of this is stuff I’d like to implement into a pet store of my own, if it ever happens. I wish it was something that could be done with all pet stores. It’d really improve pet care in general in this country. And having animals much less available and with less of a dollar value put on them would make it harder for people to abuse/neglect commonly available small animals that don’t have a very high money value like goldfish, betta fish, hermit crabs, hamsters, mice & rats, budgies, anoles, leopard geckos, bearded dragons, ball pythons…. All of these critters just get a really rough deal in most pet care situations and it just really, really sucks.

(Edit: Thank you for asking!!! ♥)

[katwriting]

Fic: Sound of your Heart

celebrity AU // chapter 1

When Magnus Bane returns to his favorite coffee shop after weeks of being out of town, he doesn't expect that place to be more packed than usual. He also doesn't expect sharing a table with a stranger and actually having a good time. And most importantly, he doesn't expect that stranger to be surprisingly funny, interesting and kind. But if Magnus learned one thing over the years, it's that life doesn't exactly ask for your opinion.

Word count: 2.7k | Read on AO3 (or continue reading below)

“Thank you, New York City! You guys were amazing, goodnight!”

Turning his back to the roaring crowd, Magnus walked off the stage, pulling out his earpiece as he walked down the steps. Someone handed him a bottle of water, which he gulped down in a matter of seconds before wiping a towel over his sweat drenched face.

Another show done. The first of two at Madison Square Garden, both sold out. And the second-to-last one before his well-deserved break. As Magnus walked through the backstage hallways back to his wardrobe, past posters that of upcoming concerts at this venue and several ones that announced his own two New York shows, he shook his head and couldn’t suppress a smile. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe how fast things had progressed ever since that fateful day about two years ago. How his career had basically sky-rocketed from working as a barista at a café and singing at weddings or company holiday parties to selling out Madison Square Garden two nights in a row.

The two reasons for that unreal twist in his life were already waiting in his dressing room when he got back. Magnus barely had the chance to drop his towel into the hamper in the corner when he was already enveloped in a warm, familiar hug and a kiss was dropped on his cheek, despite his sweaty, slightly disheveled state.

“Magnus Bane, rock star. Look at you,” Catarina said when she let go of him, still holding him at arm’s length and beaming. “Your mother would be so proud.”

Magnus smiled at her and tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. Instead, he looked at the second person that had been waiting in the dressing room, who was just getting up from the chair he’d made himself comfortable in. “And what’s your verdict, Ragnor?”

“The show was sold out, the crowd adored you as usual and I’m pretty sure the press will as well,” Ragnor replied, his British accent as heavy as ever. He shrugged and slipped his phone into his back pocket. “I suppose you did alright.”

Magnus grinned and then only too happily accepted a hug from Ragnor as well. As disinterested the reply may have sounded, it was hard to ignore the pride in Ragnor's eyes as he looked at Magnus, trying his best to remain as unfazed as possible.

Ragnor Fell and Catarina Loss were a married couple of almost ten years and had been ruling the New York music business for just as long. Their record company, Downworld Records, had the most popular artists of the city signed; every time Magnus attempted to count the Grammies, Oscars and Golden Globes those artists had won in total, he ended up with a headache.

Magnus would have never dreamed of getting to know them, let alone signing for their label. But ever since he had, things in his life had taken a U-Turn in the best possible way. With the help of those two heavyweights in the music business he had soon turned from flamboyant, outgoing barista-turned-singer to record-breaking superstar and taken the music world by storm. Magnus couldn't possibly more grateful for their help and support over the years.  

With a sigh, Magnus dropped on the couch that Ragnor had just stood up from, grabbing another bottle of water. “So, now that we have the business talk covered, let’s get to the essential stuff,” he said, then took another sip of water. “How’s Chairman?”

Apart from being the most amazing managers that Magnus could have ever dreamed of, Ragnor and Catarina also came with another pretty useful feature: Whenever Magnus went abroad, they took care of his one and only child, a tabby cat called Chairman Meow. When Magnus went on tour or had promo appointments left and right, he left Chairman with the two of them, knowing that he would get his darling kitty back happy and well (and likely a little more overweight than usual).

When he’d taken Chairman to his usual check-up after his world tour last year, the vet hat told him to feed Chairman less, which Magnus had just internally scoffed at. No pet of his would ever be overweight, Chairman was just a little…small for his weight, but fabulously so.

“Oh, he’s great,” Catarina retorted. “Last week when I wasn’t looking, he ate half of the tuna that I wanted to make for dinner.” “- and threw up all over our living room carpet half an hour later,” Ragnor threw in.

Magnus snorted. “Sounds like my son.”

Ragnor rolled his eyes, but smirked. “Damn right he is. That cat is just as extra as you are.”

Magnus just shrugged, getting up again and heading towards the showers. “What can I say, I raised him well.”

+++

Two days later, after sleeping for 12 hours straight and spending an hour in the bathroom to make sure that he didn’t totally like a zombie, Magnus set foot in his favorite place in the world besides the balcony in Catarina’s apartment: Pandemonium, the café he’d worked at before his music career had taken off. The tiny café was wedged in between a Chinese restaurant and a thrift store and there were maybe twenty tables but still, Magnus loved going there. He’d spent many hours there – working, writing songs, trying to make decisions, or simply taking a break from real life. Besides, the place sold the best coffee in Brooklyn, if not even entire New York. And since it was so tiny and kind of an insider tip, he didn’t risk running into fans, reporters or other people who could recognize him there.

Magnus hadn’t been to Pandemonium for a few months now as he had been on tour, but as soon as he stepped through the narrow door and into the cozy atmosphere, he felt himself relax. The off-white brick walls, the many different chairs and couches, none like the other, the scent of freshly roasted coffee beans and the music playing in the background never failed to make him feel like home.

What did, however, very much disturb that feeling of coming home was his first look around the room. More importantly, the realization that the entire place was packed with people. There were young parents trying their best to keep their kids from spilling their coffee, business people typing away on their laptops, their drinks all but forgotten – and then what seemed like a hoard of college kids, taking up the rest of the room.  

Magnus sighed. As much as he loved this place for its cozy atmosphere, the limited number of tables and seats did pose as a problem whenever he came here on a particularly busy day.

Nevertheless, he headed for the counter and ordered his coffee to go, already halfway expecting he would have to drink it on the go somewhere. Or alternatively in his own living room under the skeptical gaze that the Chairman seemed to reserve for whenever Magnus went out and didn’t come back with food or at least a treat for his cat.

Thankfully, at least the line at the counter wasn’t all that long so it didn’t take much time for the baristas to make his drink. Paper cup in hand, Magnus turned away from the cash desk, stuffed his wallet back into the inside pocket of his jacket and then scanned the room one more time, hoping against hope that the few minutes he had spent waiting for his coffee would have been enough for an empty table to appear somewhere – or at least one of the several college kids to realize that the Wi-Fi in this place was crappy for a reason and leave. And indeed, just as he scanned the room one last time, a couple who had been sitting at a tiny table in the far corner across the room rose from their seats, took their empty cups and turned to leave.

Bingo.

With quick, resolute steps Magnus navigated his way through the maze of furniture, laptop chargers, messenger bags and brief cases on the floor towards the now empty table and managed to snatch a seat, effectively cutting off two women’s way who had been walking towards the same table. With an (entirely fake) apologetic smile he sat down on one of the chairs and placed his cup on the table, then grabbed the magazine he had been carrying with him and tried to blend out the noise around him.

It worked surprisingly well for a while, despite the buzzing noise around him. He was halfway through a quite interesting piece about an up and coming local fashion designer, when a voice dragged his attention away and back to the real world.

“Excuse me?”

Suppressing a defeated sigh, Magnus put his magazine aside and looked up, already expecting to be met with the expectant and excited face of one of someone who had recognized him and was about to ask for a photo or an autograph. Instead, he looked into hazel eyes, hidden behind thinly framed glasses. They belonged to a guy that seemed to be in his twenties, maybe a few years younger than Magnus. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt underneath a well-worn leather jacket and had a dark brown messenger back slung across his shoulder.

“Can I sit here?” the stranger said, looking around as if he was checking if an empty seat had appeared somewhere, but then shrugged.

"Uh…sure,” Magnus replied, a little taken aback. He uncrossed his legs so the stranger would have some space and took his magazine off the table, making room for his new seat neighbor’s coffee.

The stranger took a seat and placed his mug on the tiny table between them. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t normally do this. But this was literally the only free seat so…"

He shrugged, as if it the entire issue explained itself, and put his messenger bag down on the floor.

“It’s no problem. Actually, I haven't been here in a while. When did this place become so crowded? This used to be an insider tip," Magnus pondered and let his gaze roam through the room once more. Now that the guy sitting across from him had taken up the last empty seat, there was literally no space left.

Alec followed his gaze, then shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea. I come here every few weeks when I'm in the neighborhood, and I didn't notice anything changing. I guess at some point some of those hipster college kids must have discovered the place and made it their most recent Instagram-worthy coffee place or something."

Magnus huffed out a laugh. From the looks of it, those hipster college kids must have told a bunch of their friends too. “Must have been something like that. Last time I was here, there was maybe one seat taken, not just one empty."

“I know, right?", Alec huffed. "I mean, I’m sure they’re all great kids, but the point of me coming to this particular place was so I can enjoy my lunch break in peace. Not in the company of seventeen thousand undergrads,” the stranger grumbled, packing his laptop back into his bag and pulling out a notebook instead.

This time, Magnus genuinely laughed. “I’ll drink to that.”  He picked up his cup and jokingly raised it in his neighbor's direction. He took a sip and then placed the cup on the table again. “I’m Magnus, by the way,” he added, holding out his hand a little awkwardly as the stranger was currently focused on a folder he had taken out of his bag.  

Clearly startled, the guy looked up from his notes. “Huh? Oh…yeah, hi. I’m Alec,” he said, quickly taking Magnus’ hand and shaking it, almost knocking over his coffee in the process.

Magnus smirked. “Nice to meet you, Alec.”

He was just about to ask Alec what job he was working that his lunch break had led him to a tiny coffee place in Brooklyn, when a woman who had been sitting a few tables over got up and left. Alec picked up on that, watched her leave and then turned back towards Magnus, frowning.

"I should probably…you know," Alec said, gesturing towards the now unoccupied table across the room.

“Oh, don’t bother. I could use some company.”

A surprised smirk ran over Alec's features. "Okay."

Over the course of the next half hour or so, Magnus learned that breaking with his habits from time to time wasn't that bad of an idea. Alec turned out to be quite decent company. He was more on the introverted side, a lot more reserved than Magnus, that much Magnus could tell. But when he did say something, it was either funny, smart beyond his ears or sarcastic to a T. From crowded coffee shops and the general unpleasantness of undergrad students their conversation soon moved on to more personal topics. Magnus learned that Alec worked in his parents’ publishing company and was being groomed to take over as CEO one day, which he described as rewarding but also quite challenging from time to time. Magnus, in return, told him some of the stories he always told people when they asked him to tell them a little about himself – how he’d always been fascinated by music, how Queen had been his favorite band when he was a kid and Freddie Mercury still was one of his biggest idols, whether it came to music or life in general.  

Lucky for Magnus, their conversation always shifted to a different topic before they could get to what he did for a living. That was, until Alec straightforward asked.

“You said you like music a lot. Do you work in music as well?”

Internally, Magnus let out a bunch of curses, most of which Catarina would have murdered him for in cold blood if he ever used them in public. Externally, he resolved to something a little less scandal-inducing. Smirking to cover up the shock on his face, he took a sip from his coffee which was barely more than lukewarm at that point but perfectly served as a measure to buy him some time. Time that he used to think and come up with a perfectly fine explanation.

“I do, actually,” he said, “I work for a record label here in New York. It's called Downworld Records."

Technically, that wasn’t even a lie – he did have a contract with Cat and Ragnor's label after all. Besides, not telling strangers everything about himself right away was not lying, right? It was just being responsible, thank you very much. However, considering Alec’s reaction, Magnus might as well have told him the whole truth straight away.

Alec nodded, but other than that seemed pretty unfazed by Magnus’ reply. “Never heard of it. But I don’t really listen to a lot of music and at work we focus on books, so I guess that’s no surprise.”

Magnus blinked. “You don’t?”

Alec shook his head and grabbed his own mug. “Not really. I mean, I do like instrumental pieces or some classic rock if the mood strikes. But other than that, I guess I prefer books to records.”

Magnus smirked and relaxed back into his seat. “Instrumental stuff and classic rock, huh? Well aren’t you something else, Alec.”

Their conversation then shifted to less potentially cover-blowing topics for Magnus. They kept on talking for another while, until Magnus excused himself to the bathroom. When he returned, ready to hear more about that hilarious story of Alec's siblings, he startled, then did a double take just to be sure he hadn't walked to the wrong table. But he hadn't – Alec was no longer there.  Alec's jacket and bag were gone and their table abandoned, save for a slip of paper tucked under the half-finished cappuccino Magnus had gotten only a few minutes ago. When Magnus picked up the little note, he found just a few words scribbled onto it in a barely readable handwriting.

Emergency call, had to run. Was good chatting with you, I really enjoyed having some company. A.

Magnus turned the sheet around, feeling a little disappointed when he found it empty. He sighed. “Me too, Alec. What a shame that you didn’t leave me your number.”

Smirking, he put the sheet into his bag, then picked up his stuff and headed towards the exit. The little break at the café had been undoubtedly fun, but now he had a cat to get home to.

[allbeendonebefore]

ahhh I love the OC ask thing!! Would you mind doing 9, 15, 17, 26, and 34?

9. Do you have a faceclaim / voiceclaim for your OC?

Not at all (beyond me creating them in a time I was voice acting for IAMP and I vowed I could not be the one to voice them because I was already using up all my voices for other characters lmao)

and no calvin doesn’t have the Rural AB High School Boy voice EVEN THOUGH he was inspired by rural ab high school boys i knew. maybe mac does

and i don’t have face claims but sometimes I randomly encounter people that look like my ocs like that time it was a hot summer day and I was walking home from the grocery store unintentionally following this guy like ‘is that ed’ (AND SOMETIMES they interact with me and I die like that time i accidentally met IRL calvin on a plane)

15. If your OC could have any pet, what would they choose? Why?

Edward has been a dog person since birth. Aside from the passage in Cecil E. Denny’s memoir that I based this comic off, I was recently reading a passage from Alexander Ross’ accounts that was basically like “the wife doesn’t need her blanket but GOD FORBID the husband doesn’t have his dogs and the dogs don’t have their ribbons and bells” and thats ed lmao. However, he doesn’t have dogs at the moment because he no longer has the excuse that dog sledding is a Necessary and Important activity, so in his quest for Necessary and Important tasks he’s currently looking into urban chicken keeping (which is a legal loophole he has been flouting since the 1920s that livestock aren’t supposed to ‘run amok in the streets of edmonton’... which they won’t do if they’re in his backyard...

Calvin has owned animals of many kinds since he was a sprout as well and while he loves them all and has said goodbye to many, his current lifestyle of penthouse living and travelling often isn’t super conducive to having a pet (his ideal would obviously be sugarfoot from heartland lmao). However, he does have at least one horse, possibly dogs and a barn cat here or there (which Caroline keeps track of) and though cattle aren’t pets Calvin will still act like his are (which Bert takes care of) 

17. How do they make a living? What kind of job do they want / not want? What is their dream job? What do they think of their current job?

This is a good question because there’s not really any hard and fast rule about how an avatar Has to make a living. Edward currently is working in some capacity for the City (as mentioned in chapter 1) because for him it’s a form of self care (even though it also stresses him out). It’s something he had been avoiding for a long time because he doesn’t perceive himself as a “responsible” person. I like to think that he’s an anonymous person on the 311 line every so often, but he might be doing other stuff like the odd temp work or bus driving. Ed also sells produce at local markets (but he usually gets his sister to do that for him... or she takes the initiative without telling him maybe). 

Of course, both of them have had jobs in O&G (usually Ed being the O and Cal being the G, one blue collar and one white). Ed was on the rigs for a couple seasons during a recent economic boom slash depressive episode and has been many times before - while he won’t disparage the work or the pay he certainly doesn’t enjoy it. Calvin has always been more in the business of speculation and administration and it’s assumed that he gets the vast majority of his income through this and related sources, he also loves to talk and present and to build relationships with people so he really likes his cushy office job. Somewhat ironically he doesn’t always bring that aspect into his municipal/government work because he’s too busy with his “real job”, and when his “real job” falls through in a recession he can either be everyone’s worst nightmare or he can finally redirect all his positive energy towards them (sometimes those overlap) (it depends on the weather).   

26. Who is the most important person in their life? Why? Who is the least important to them (that still has an impact and why?

For Ed and Cal the most important people are always each other. I tend to find it weird when they’re not portrayed/perceived as interdependent to the point of being inextricable from each other’s identities. Sure they ignore each other a lot and step over or on each other depending on the situation, but if one ceased to exist the other would probably be thrown into an absolute identity crisis. 

Least important is harder, not sure if it’s intended in more of a “couldn’t care less maybe” or “hate this person so much i wish they’d get out of my way”. I’d have to think about that a lot more before I could come up with a good answer, because even people they rarely see they might still care about in one way or another. 

34. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?

Just from skimming Calgary histories, marching bands come up a lot so I always laugh at the idea of him in one of those (I always think of that time that Nenshi literally called in the Stampede marching band in to help him sing Let it Go when he lost a hockey bet with the mayor of Anaheim). Calvin would have played every possible role at one point or another in that so I’m not sure what his usual would be. But he likes pomp, circumstance, instruments, uniforms, marching, all that stuff. And then there’s rodeo on top of that too which is a whole other can of worms. 

Ed tends to be more anti-social than Calvin and has tried to avoid a lot of things, but he still has his own interests and groups I’m sure. The ski club for instance has been a big deal and I think he’s definitely the sort of person who does guided walks in the river valley or trips out to Elk Island etc. He also gets roped into Fringe and other arts events on occasion by his sister, or he’ll do some volunteering at festivals such as Heritage Days (and performing at them if you’re very very lucky). 

[eligos-venator]

Character Interview - Eligos Venator

— what did you have for breakfast?

“Yesterday, hashbrowns and eggs. Day before that, fritattas. Today, shakshuka. Really, it depends on materials left and my mood for the day. I try to vary and be flexible since the same old every morning would grow very, very tiresome and unappetizing quickly.” He explained with a small, lazy shrug and slight smile. “Since I cook for myself and Ibri isn’t exactly picky about her meat, I’m able to be flexible and easily adjust based upon what I have to work with.”

— what can you cook perfectly?

“I don’t like to brag, but give me a cook book, and you get what you ask for. I’m not at the level of a professional, but cooking is a joy to me, so I’ve naturally gotten better at it through experience.” He stated happily as he set his hands together on the table, the right gloved hand covering the left as he leaned forward. “I’m also always interested in steal- I mean learning recipes from any who might have a few that aren’t so easily found in these mass-produced cookbooks you come across in the market often. I’ve a few from my travels, and while spices and herbs can be troublesome, they provide a nice bit of variety so that I don’t have to eat the local cuisine every night.”

— if you could choose a pet, what would it be?

“I already have Ibri.” With a wave over to the side, he pointed out the brown and gray feathered hunting hawk who sat on her perch in a corner of the room. “Raised her from a chick when she hatched at a bad time. I’d been paid to retrieve such an egg for a noble’s son, and well..” The hyur trailed off, chuckling softly as his right hand covered his mouth to try to be polite as he did so. As he stopped, the hand dropped back to his lap and rested there. “She may have seen me first and thus imprinted upon myself. I didn’t get paid for that job, but I did get a family member who is quite sweet, even if not in the way a cat or dog might be.”

— how is your relationship with your parents?

The Hyur stared blankly for a moment, his expression shifting from friendly to a perfect poker face as he considered the question before the smile returned. “We don’t have much to speak about anymore. I didn’t exactly turn out as I was supposed to, and that lead to strain in the family. Suffice to say we’re all better off with how things turned out.” With that simple statement, he gave a blank stare, indicating this line of questioning was over.

— what is your favorite read?

“Hard to say. I suppose an anatomy textbook would be my favorite read. It proves the most useful in understanding and dissecting body mechanics and provides insight which makes my own combat more effective. Next up would be combat manuals and guides explaining the weapons one might run into, and their purpose. For knowing that purpose and the key traits is vital to be able to take full advantage of an enemy’s weapon choice.”  He closed his eyes as he relaxed, his arms crossed and resting upon his chest as he thought about the question further. “I am assuming that you mean any book, and not limiting myself to storybooks, at least. Do tell me if I’m wrong.”

— do you put both socks on first, or one sock, one shoe?

“Putting on clothes is like putting on armor. Put on all of each layer at once, and move on to the next once it is done.” With a shake of his head, the Hyur let out a small sigh. “Matter of preference for some, maybe, but for me it’s easier to keep in this habit.”

— do you fold your clothes before bed?

“Technically. If I do it at any point before I sleep, it’s counted, right?” He asked, a brow raised as he leaned back in his chair. “I do it in the morning after changing into the day’s attire. The prior day’s clothes go in the laundry and will be washed before being folded up properly before being stored.” He then blinked, then gave an incredulous look as he mulled over the question once more. “Are you telling me some of the people you interview wear the clothes multiple times before washing? That’s.. unhygienic, to say the least.”

— how do you feel about marriage?

“That old ‘ball and chain’ joke? It’s hardly a joke. I’ve seen marriage tear the soul from man and woman alike, and grind their spirits down into nothing. But on the flip side, I’ve seen just as many thrive. It all boils down to the two being compatible long term rather than short, if they wish to keep the spark alive.” The Hyur stated with a small, brief smile and nod. On realizing that it was a question for his opinion, he briefly frowned, though that frown soon turned to a small, half-smile as yellow eyes watched the interviewer carefully. “I have no strong opinions one way or the other, since it’s not something I’ve ever considered for myself. I can’t tell the future, nor how I might feel in time on a matter never thought about. But I can say that at this moment, it’s not something I can see myself desiring.”

— who was the last person you crushed on?

“You’re hilarious, you know that, right?” He asked with a small laugh, though he was quick to cover his mouth as he did so. “I don’t know if you’re an optimist or what, with expectation that everyone interviewed will be forthright and honest when asked a question like that. The answer is ‘I have no idea’. And if you think that’s true, I’ve got a castrum I’d like to sell you.” The hyur’s lips turned up in a smirk as he clasped his hands together, resting then on the table. “Let’s stick to questions that don’t involve private lives and thoughts, alright?”

— what does your dream home look like? and where would it be?

“I already have it. It’s my cozy, quaint little apartment near the Mists. A beach location, and it’s just the right size for myself and Ibri, with an open area.” The Hyur beamed as he said this, his lips pulled up together in a bright smile. “And it was cheap! The last fellow who owned it was moving to a larger home, and I have to say it was the biggest mistake he made, selling it to me so cheaply. Sure, it needed some repairs, but the loft setup is ideal and helps make even a small space feel massive. Plenty of space for a bed, tub, a desk and pen for Ibri, and even a full kitchen.” He stated brightly as he clapped his two gloved hands together. “Couldn’t really ask for more for myself. If it were any bigger it’d be a pain to dust and clean, and there’s no way in the seven hells I’m hiring someone else to do that for me when I’ve got working arms and legs to do it myself at no cost.”

— what’s your worst habit?

“You know that filter between your brain and the mouth?” Eligos raised an eyebrow as he eyed the interviewer, yellow eyes watching attentively as he tilted his head slightly to the left before righting it. “Yeah, that. Sometimes I just forget to do that. I’ll sometimes just say what I’m thinking as I’m thinking it, rather than sitting on it and evaluating that thought before expressing it. It’s caused me no end of trouble, so I’d say it qualifies as my worst habit.”

— what do you do for a living and how do you feel about your job?

“Now that’s a loaded question. I’m a hired hand. Some assignments I might be acting as a bodyguard. Others I might be hunting a beast that’s caused trouble in an area. There are even clients who’ve sent me to the corners of Eorzea to fetch them samples, and others who’ve had other tasks of the miscellaneous sort, such as paperwork and the like. I tend to prefer combat, myself, but I’m not about to pass up good coin for a quick and easy job.” He stated as he reached to his lips with his right hand, covering his mouth in a polite motion and obscuring it from view as he laughed. As the laughter stopped, his eyes narrowed while his hand remained in place, his elbow resting on the table as he propped his chin up, resting it upon his thumb. “Level of discretion varies between clients. Rightfully, I can’t tell you everything as I’ve been specifically paid by a good many to keep silent. And to break word is to break the trust of clients past and future. Naturally, that’d cause issues for me and be a right headache I wouldn’t be able to so easily fix. Hardly worth it for an interview I’ve not been paid to do.” Tagged by: @regalblossom @ivyffxiv Tagging: I don’t know who hasn’t been tagged for this already, so.. anyone who hasn’t done this yet! 

[writersrealmbts]

Safe with Me -Hybrid AU Part 6

Description: You’ve always wanted to help people, and suddenly, you’ve been given the chance to help three hybrids who are down on their luck: Jimin, a cat hybrid, Jungkook, a bunny hybrid, and Jin, a dog-hybrid. Opening your home and your heart to these three, anything could happen. Including you getting hurt.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, implications of sexual abuse, mentions of death

Tags: Readerxbts, hybrid!Jimin, hybrid!Jin, hybrid!Jungkook, hybrid!Namjoon, hybrid!Hoseok, hybrid!Yoongi, hybrid!Taehyung

Fluffy and Angsty: 3,925 words

A/N: Late in the night for an update, but here it is. I didn’t edit it as much as I normally do because...I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t see anything that really bugged me about it. I probably will later.

Hobi had gotten choked up as his brothers got ready to go, and ended up clinging to Yoongi while the other two finished. “Ah, don’t cry,” Yoongi said softly. You were brushing out a matte in Tae’s fur. “You need to brush your fur out more, TaeTae. And your hair. You have such nice hair and fur.” He looked up at you and nodded, solemn and still. “I’ll do better, y/n.” You smiled at him. “There, perfectly handsome.” He grinned, but it was short-lived and he hugged your waist, pouting. “I don’t want to go, y/n.” “I know, TaeTae. We’ll see each other soon, though. And Micheal has a yard you can play in, and tons of games,” You said, trying to comfort him. “It’s a really nice place. And Micheal is nice too, isn’t he?” Tae nodded. “I don’t want him to get in trouble. Or you.” You moved his hair and kissed his forehead. “Go say goodbye.” He nodded, going over to Jimin and hugging the cat, both of them getting extremely upset. Namjoon came out and stopped by Hobi and Yoongi, hugging Hobi and looking pretty upset himself. You could tell Hobi wasn’t going to let go, so you went over, gently pulling on his arm until he looked at you. He choked again, but nodded. He quickly hugged the other two again, then looked and saw Tae and hugged him. Tae was in tears, all traces of happiness gone. Jin put his hands on your shoulders. “They’ll be okay.” “It hurts, Jin,” You whispered, leaning back against him. He gently squeezed your shoulder. “They know you want them to stay. They know that they can’t. That this is the best way to keep them safe. Hoseok knew what he was doing when he said he would be adopted by you while his brothers were adopted by your brother. He knew separation was inevitable. He didn’t want Tae to have to be separated.” You closed your eyes, unable to watch the tears that fell even from Yoongi’s eyes. “I…I’ll be in the car.” “Okay.” You hurried out (as best you could with crutches), getting into the drivers seat and trying to calm yourself after shoving the crutches into the trunk. “This is necessary. This is necessary.” You kept repeating it to yourself, trying to fight the urge to run inside and comfort Hobi. You opened your eyes as the car doors opened and three sniffly boys, Jungkook and Jin got into the van. Hobi and Jimin were holding each other’s hands on the front step. You drove off, hoping they would be okay on their own. It was really quiet on the ride, the three boys trying to calm down so that Micheal wouldn’t think that they hated them (Yoongi’s words). Jungkook sat in the very back seat with Namjoon, quiet, and upset after having seen how upset everyone else was. Jin kept glancing back and reaching back to sort of pet Tae’s hair and try and comfort the boy. It was a relatively short drive to your brother’s farmhouse. You stared up at the house, smiling softly. “This is where you grew up, isn’t it?” Jin asked, breaking the silence. You nodded. “Some good memories here.” You sighed and got out of the car. The others followed slowly. Tae was starting to get a little excited. “It doesn’t look scary.” You smiled, waiting as Jin got your crutches for you. You were glad they were going to switch you over to an ankle brace in a few days because you couldn’t wait to stop using the crutches and it was only the second day. Micheal came outside, grinning when he saw you. “Y/n,” He jogged over and picked you up in a hug. You laughed. “We just saw each other yesterday. And talked last night.” “Yeah, but yesterday I didn’t know that we would get an extremely large donation of land adjacent to the lot we’re working on for the hybrid community.” He set you down carefully, grinning proudly. You grinned back. “Seriously?!” He nodded. “The city thought we were doing something pretty incredible and made the generous donation of the land, plus some extra money for the project. Someone told a local radio station and they held a food drive to help the hybrids that lost their rights to be paid, asking us to distribute it from the ‘store’ that we finished building yesterday evening. I had some workers who didn’t want to stop working when it was so close to being done, especially since they knew about the food drive going on.” “That’s amazing!” You hugged Micheal again, grinning excitedly at the news. It was perfect. “We’ll have to fence the property in, due to regulations, but I figure we can label the new land a park. It’s wooded toward the back and the front was leveled for prospective development some ten years ago, but we can make part of that section into a playground. I have a bid on the next lot over as well because the owner died—a true tragedy—and no one else bid on it because they don’t want to deal with the building on it, but we could turn it into a school or medical center for them. It really wouldn’t take that much, it’s in better condition than a ton of building’s I’ve renovated.” Micheal was talking excitedly as he led the way up the porch, catching you without thinking when your crutch got caught and you started to fall. “And I’ve inquired after the other adjacent properties and have another guy on the fence, just about ready to sell it to me, but he wants to see what we would do with it. He said I could bring my consultants to the property today, and that includes you since you’re the financier of the project. The others are already there to get an idea of what we’re possibly working with, but since you’re the brains, I want your input. Part of me says keep it as an extension to the park, maybe clean it up a bit and add a few trails, but the other part of me wonders if that’s the wisest use of our limited space.” You just kept grinning at your brother, able to see how passionate about this project he was. You guys had been lucky that the first buildings needed minimal repairs before completing them, and with workers who were even more passionate about the project, knowing that the work would be directly benefiting them, it wasn’t really surprising that the work was above what code required and that the workers tended to work past what normal workers would, even though your brother really could only compensate them with basic staples like beans and rice for working overtime. Most of them had families depending on them, or knew of families that didn’t have much of anything now and gave the extra food to them. The boys were quiet, their eyes wide and small smiles forming on their faces as they listened. “Some of my guys who don’t have family agreed to share one of the apartments so that I could get some families that they knew into a home. You sure you’re okay donating the furniture?” “Yes. It was meant to be used, and the only reason it’s in there is because a use hadn’t been found for them yet.” Micheal nodded then looked at the boys. “Alright, I have three spare bedrooms upstairs for you guys to use.” “With clean sheets and blankets?” You asked, giving him a pointed look. He held his hands up. “Becca came over yesterday and helped me clean the rooms.” “Oh? How is Becca?” You asked in a teasing tone. He gave you a wary look. “Stop it.” “I’m just waiting. And waiting. And waiting for you to pop the damn question.” You gave him a smirk. “The timing isn’t right,” He mumbled, looking away with a red face. “And I need your help finding a ring.” Your eyes widened. “Oh, today is just full of good news.” “Who’s Becca?” Tae asked, playing with his tail and smiling cautiously. Micheal grinned. “Ah, she’s gorgeous, and sweet and loving and she cooks, and she’s got this spunky side to her that just…” He gushed, finally unable to speak. “And he’s been in love with her longer than they’ve been dating, so she’s really patient. Why is the timing wrong now?” “The company she worked for just went bankrupt.” “I would think now would be the perfect time…” You responded. “I mean, give her a couple days to come to terms with the sudden job loss, but seriously. She has time to plan a wedding now.” “I hadn’t thought about that…” “I mean, you’ll also have to make sure she’s okay with your hybrids…” “Ah, right, sorry guys. I keep getting distracted. This way.” He led the three upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. You smiled after him. Jin guided your toward a chair. “He’s a lot more chatty today than normal.” You nodded. “He’s excited. Not just about the projects. He really hates living in an empty house. Some of his guys were living here before, so it wasn’t an issue but they had been saving up for their own places and now that the first building is done…” “They’ve all moved into those.” You nodded again. Jungkook smiled. “He’s more comfortable here.” “It’s his home. Coming to my home reminds him that I’m not home with him anymore. Plus the past couple of weeks haven’t exactly been…anything to be excited about, with the laws changing things both in our homes and at work.” Jin took your hand, squeezing it. “What you two are doing…it’s amazing. I mean, it’s going to help so many hybrids.” You smiled up at him. “That’s the goal.” He leaned down and quickly kissed you. Jungkook let out a squeak. “Um…” You blushed and looked away. Jin cleared his throat. “Breathe one word about this and I’ll tie you up by your cotton tail and let Jimin eat your food.” “Yes, Appa,” Jungkook said obediently. You noticed that now that the shock of it was wearing off, he looked a little happier. “You and Eomma…?” “Shh, Kookie,” You said gently, smiling a little. He grinned, his nose scrunching cutely. Jin took a step away from you as the others returned. Tae was walking beside Micheal with a bounce in his step. “And you have games?” “Tons of them. And there’s a basketball hoop out back. I’ve got basketballs, baseballs, soccer balls, volleyballs, and there’s a football somewhere. Plus there’s the playset from when we were kids. Whatever tickles your fancy,” Micheal shrugged. “We’ll probably be gone for a couple hours. There are a couple pizzas in the freezer.” “I know how to cook those,” Yoongi replied. His tail tip flicked every now and behind him, which usually just meant he was curious. Namjoon’s tail was wagging slightly, his ears swiveling towards the sound of the dishwasher as it started a new cycle, really loudly. You looked over at it, then at your brother. He had a dead look on his face. “I swear if that stump-tailed, son of a motherless goat put another dead mouse in the dishwasher—!” He marched into the kitchen. You couldn’t help chortling at his grumbling. “Did you just call a cat-hybrid the son of a motherless goat?” “So what if I did!” “And I’m sorry, did you just say a dead mouse?” “Might be a squirrel, might be a chipmunk, might be a rat or vole.” His voice was muffled now. “Oh come on! A bird?!” You winced. Yoongi looked slightly horrified. “I don’t do that,” He quickly said when he saw you glance at him. You smiled a bit, slightly disgusted at the dead bird in the dishwasher and slightly amused. “Most cat hybrids don’t do that…at least…not with small prey,” Micheal said, standing up again. “He’s a little…special.” Yoongi nodded slowly, then looked at the damage, eyes widening. “That’s a lot of feathers…” Taehyung looked horrified. Namjoon looked disgusted. “Plates, Eomma,” Jungkook said. “Oh, right…actually you’ll probably need them more, Micheal. The plastic plates.” Micheal looked at you, confused. “I’m a little clumsy,” Namjoon confessed. “I broke four of her plates already.” Micheal nodded. “Duly noted. I usually use the plastic plates for everyday anyway. You need more plates, y/n?” “Nah, I got those cheap at a resale store.” You got up, causing both Jin and Namjoon to growl lowly when you made an almost silent sound of discomfort. Yoongi’s tail immediately flicked in agitation and Jungkook’s ears were at attention. The only oblivious ones were Micheal and Taehyung, the latter being enthralled by the pictures on the wall. They were mostly you and your brother, with a few of him and his friends, and only one of you two with your parents. Which just reminded you that you didn’t have any of your photos up yet, and also caused you to say it could wait a little longer. Some of the photos still made you sad. “Is this Becca?” Tae asked, bouncing excitedly as he pointed at a picture. You started to limp over, but Jin’s growl stopped you in your tracks. He went over and brought the frame to you with a stern look. “Stop putting weight on your leg.” You gave him a bit of a pout and then looked at the photo. “Yeah, that’s Becca.” Tae grinned. “She looks nice.” “I’m sure your perception of her has nothing to do with her being surrounded by animals with a huge grin,” You said, arching an eyebrow. He just grinned at you. “She likes animals, right?” You nodded, smiling. “Y/n, we should get to the site. Boys, try not to burn the house down.” “Um, barn first,” You reminded him. “Oh, right.” He pivoted and opened the back door. He looked back and waited while Jin made you use the crutches, then led the way to the barn. All of the boys followed, curious about the yard but not ready to leave the safety of the pack. Jin and Jungkook walked on either side of you to make sure you didn’t almost fall like you did on the front porch. Micheal unlocked the barn and shoved the door open with relative ease. “Alright, so…was there a method to the madness organizing this stuff?” “Of course there was,” You replied. You started forward, going straight toward where you had the furniture for your house set aside. You tripped, of course. Jin caught you, a sound between a whine and a growl emanating from his throat. “You’re going to hurt yourself more.” “I’m fine,” You said, trying to untangle your crutches while he held you upright. He grunted, then just picked you up. “Forget those things. You suck at using them. I’ll just carry you.” “All day?” “Excuse me?!” Micheal’s voice went up in pitch, looking at you and Jin with alarm. “Well, she can’t use the crutches adequately and she needs to move around. Right?” “Well…yes,” Micheal looked suspicious. Jin nodded, adjusting his hold on you. “Then I’ll get her where she needs to go and make sure she doesn’t get hurt. Which way, y/n?” You hooked one arm around his neck, and pointed with your free hand. “That way. Kookie, you have the tags?” “Yes, Eomma.” “Eomma?” Micheal questioned. You gave Micheal a pointed look. He frowned at you, as if saying that he had every right to be concerned. You rolled your eyes. A look of irritation flashed over his face. “Whatever.” Slightly triumphant, you turned your attention back to the furniture, tapping on Jin’s shoulder and pointing to some bookshelves. “Over there, I think those are the ones I need for my room.” He took you over without a word. It went like this for a while, you and Micheal bickering with looks and Jin carrying you around to inspect pieces, so that Jungkook and Micheal could tag them. The other three boys looked around with curiosity. “Alright, that crib is the last thing.” You pointed to the wooden crib. Jin’s ears turned a bit red, and all attention was on you as Micheal didn’t question that piece of furniture after questioning you about everything else for the past half-hour. You looked at the confused (and smirking, Yoongi you brat) looks and shrugged. “My dad made it, and the one that Micheal has in his basement. That’s why it was so protected.” “Alright, now can we go to the site?” You rolled your eyes. “Now we can go to the site.” Jin carried you all the way back to the car, then set you down by it carefully. Yoongi was the first to hug you, a soft purr deep in his chest. “Thank you for taking care of us,” He whispered, gently butting his head against yours. “Take care of Hoseok-ah.” You nodded, hugging him tightly then releasing. Taehyung immediately took his place, latching onto you with his arms and tail and chirruping sadly. “I don’t want you to go.” “I’m not that far away. You’ll like it here. Give it a chance. There’s tons of things to do here.” “But there’s no you, or Jimin-ssi or Jungkook-ssi, or Jin-hyung…” “But there is Namjoon and Yoongi.” You pulled back and smoothed his hair. “Just try not to irritate Yoongi too much, okay?” He nodded sullenly, then quietly kissed your cheek. You kissed his forehead, noticing the wistful look in his eyes as he walked a few steps away to yoongi, taking his hand when Yoongi offered it. Namjoon hugged you, tail low. He didn’t say anything, but the look on his face was enough. You nodded and got into the car while Jin talked to them one last time and Jungkook hugged each of them. The three of them stood together on the porch, watching you go. Taehyung and Namjoon waved a bit. You waved back and then focused on driving so that your heart wouldn’t break. “Jin, maybe you should call and check on Hobi and Jimin.” He grabbed your phone and called the house. “Jimin-ssi? Are you two okay?” You waited apprehensively for the answer, following Micheal as he turned. “Hoseok is okay?” You frowned as you saw Micheal swerve off the road in front of you, then saw the car coming, not in it’s lane. “Okay, we’re on our way to—” Jin cut off as you gasped and tried to get out of the way of the coming vehicle. But you still got clipped on the back corner, spinning you into the guard-rail, and causing the air-bags to go off. You couldn’t breathe, and there was a ringing in your ears. You were drowning again. Jin and Jungkook were in the car…you needed to get them out… “It’s okay, love. You’re okay,” You could just barely hear someone murmuring in your ear and realized you were being held. “Eomma? I think she’s waking up.” “Y/n?” You gasped for a breath and clung to the person holding onto you, looking around wildly. Jin made a shushing sound. “It’s okay, you’re okay. You just got knocked out in the crash, and had a little panic attack.” Micheal let out a choked sound of relief, kneeling next to both of you. You could tell he had been panicking too. “Oh, thank God!” He dropped his head into his hands. Jungkook took one of your hands. “The other car didn’t stick around.” You nodded a little, then looked at Micheal. “Did you call the police?” He nodded rubbing his face before looking up again. “Are you in pain?” You shook your head. “I mean, I’ll probably feel sore later, but I’m okay. Tired. Ankle hurts, but that was already sprained. Head hurts a bit, probably from the air bag.” Jin’s hold on you was tight, desperate and protective. Micheal nodded a little. “So how long have you been romantic with Jin here?” You looked at Micheal. “Not right now, Mike.” “Y/n. How long?” “Yesterday,” Jin answered. Micheal nodded slowly. “Are you two trying to make your lives more difficult?” You sighed, closing your eyes as you heard sirens in the distance. “For once, could you just be happy for me?” “I am happy for you. But I’m also worried about you. Both of you. We’ll have to talk more later.” He stood up as the police car and ambulance pulled up at the same time. He went over to talk to them. Jin loosened his grip on you so it was just a little protective, something a hybrid would do for an owner. Kookie pressed close to Jin’s side, still holding your hand. The paramedics came over while Micheal talked to the police officer, approaching cautiously when they saw both hybrids. Jin eyed them warily, but nodded, carefully sitting you up. Jungkook growled a little. You squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, Kookie. They’re just going to make sure I’m not hurt.” His growl turned into a deep hum of displeasure, letting them look at you. Jin backed off so that they only had to deal with one protective hybrid. It took another half hour before you were cleared to go to the construction site again, and at that point you really just wanted to go home. You all rode in Micheal’s car since yours was…a little too damaged to continue. Jin kept checking on you, sniffing your hair, grabbing your wrist. Kookie was asking Micheal questions about construction in the front seat. “Whoa…” Micheal said as the car stopped abruptly. You flinched. “Mike, not a good time for abrupt stops.” That little bit was enough to put you on the verge of another panic attack. “Eomma, look at all the hybrids!” You and Jin unbuckled and leaned up to look out the windshield. “They must be lining up for the food drive already…” Micheal guessed. “It’s too hot for them to all be out there,” You said, worry sparking in your heart. He grunted, then pulled through when his employee cleared the drive. “They’re hungry, y/n. They don’t care about heat right now. They have kids.” “The kids are with them though, Micheal.” “I’m not saying that they should be out there, I’m saying that they’re too desperate to care. I don’t have a solution, except to make sure water is available for them. We can’t open the food drive early, we don’t have all of it.” “What about the warehouse? It was cleared out so we could redo the roof and we haven’t moved everything back in yet. It’s cooler there than out here and then we could set up the drive there and there would be more space.” Micheal slowly nodded. “That could work. I’ll talk to Jihun and Heejun, tell them to get Inseong, Youjin, and Seungjun to help them set up and reorganize. Go ahead and head into the store. Check it out. I think the food drive should stay here, though. Late arrivals could get confused.” “Right.” You let Jin pull you out of the car. “Uh, Jin, maybe I should use crutches here.” He growled a little, setting you down and getting the crutches from the trunk. “You fall once and I’m carrying you.” You nodded. “Agreed.”

Masterlist. Part 5. Part 7.

@ephemeral-mindset

@hollzarmy

[lovemesomesurveys]

Name 3 things you want to buy from the store soon. A few of the different TV dinners I like is really all I need at the moment. Name 3 of the best DIY youtubers. I don’t watch any DIY videos/YouTubers. What color shirt did you wear yesterday? Gray. Are you sick right now? I always am in some way or another, some level or another, but as far as like a virus or “bug” goes, no. Do you get sick frequently? Oddly enough I don’t get viruses like colds and such very often. Prior to earlier this year when I got really sick, I hadn’t been sick like that for a few years.

When was the last time you had the stomach flu? Around June of last year. Do you see rudeness online daily? Yeah. Do you wish your life were better than it is? Yes. Who is someone whom you want to ask questions? No one at the moment. What is something you have a hard time grasping? Life. What is something God is teaching you right now? I know He’s building faith and we go through trials and tribulations to make us stronger and learn something, but I admit that I’m still trying to figure out what that is. Do you try to sell old clothes online? No. ^And if yes, have you had good luck with that? Do you think of life as holy? Only God is holy. Would you ever want a super-realistic baby doll? Uh, no. What is one question you want to ask somebody? You basically already asked this. Do you prefer pineapples or cacti? I’ve never had cacti, and I’m sooo not adventurous when it comes to foods (and life), so I doubt I ever will. Elephants or llamas? Elephants. Rainbows or fairies? Fairies. Mermaids or dragonflies? Mermaids. Ladybugs or bumblebees? Neither. I don’t like ANY bugs or insects, including ladybugs and butterflies. I’m a big scardy cat. Name one thing you could do with a pinecone. DIY Christmas decoration of some kind. Have you ever seen a gigantic pinecone before? No. List 3 places you’d like to visit. Sweden, Bali, and Mykonos. Do you own a hula skirt? No. Do you encounter rudeness on facebook often? I personally don’t, no. I see it in the comments on posts, though. What is the last book you read, what was it about, and was it good? I’m currently reading Burying the Honeysuckle Girls by Emily Carpenter. List five good names for girl twins. List five good names for boy twins. What is the best thing that ever happened to you? Hmm. What is something really hurtful someone you love has said to you? Bleh. Have you ever tried to impress anyone? Ha, yeah. Has anyone ever accused you of being gay? No. What’s a secret that you’ve never told anyone? Nice try, but I’m not telling you either. Do you wish you knew who cared about you or had someone who did? I know my family does. Do you wish you could talk to someone you could trust right now? No. ^If yes, what would you say? Are you wondering if a certain person cares about you? Again, I know my family does. What facebook groups have you found the most helpful? One for crimes and information regarding local things. Do you correct grammatical errors when you see them? Mentally. Did your mom ever own a typewriter? I don’t know. Did you name all of your stuffed animals and dolls? Yeah. What would you have your bridesmaids wear? Where do you want to go on your honeymoon? What is the best date you’ve ever had? Any of the ones with Ty. Are you sick right now? I’ve answered this a couple times already in a previous survey. Do you gargle with salt water when your throat is congested? No. Do you feel loved? Yes. Do you like your butt? Why or why not? Ha, what butt. List 3 pet peeves you have. Blah. List 1 favorite pizza topping. Spinach. Is your floor clear? Not completely. Do you wear a watch every day? I never do. What do you think of people who wear a cross necklace every day? I don’t think anything. Are you ashamed of your faith? No. Have you ever felt ashamed of your faith? No. What is it that you believe in? I believe in God. Has anyone ever tried to force their beliefs on you? Yes. Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia? I’m a heterosexual, so no. Have you ever been accused of being homophobic? No. Have you realized that what people accuse you of is true of them? That is often the case. Just remember, when you’re pointing your finger at someone there’s 4 fingers pointing back at you. Do you find it strange that people who live in a bubble think they don’t? They’re in a bubble so they wouldn’t be aware. They know what they know. Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I do have a pet. Still depressed, but I love her to death and she makes me smile and laugh. She’s so sweet. Has anyone ever tried to blame you for something they did? Yeah. Who was the last person you went on a date with? Ty. How long has it been since that last time you went on a date? 4 years. Have you ever had a pregnancy scare? Nope. Have you ever been pregnant? Nope. If you were pregnant now, would you keep the child? I can’t get pregnant. Are all of your friends having babies right now? Everyone on my Facebook does. Do you think babies are cute? Yeah. What is your favorite style of pants? Leggings and sweats. List five trends that you follow. Blah. List five trends that you haven’t caught onto. I don’t even really know what’s trendy right now. I’m old and out of the loop. How old were you when you first got a cell phone? 16. What is a health problem you had in the first grade? A few different things. Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid? Yes. What’s your favorite way to curl your hair? I don’t curl my hair. Do you ever put curlers in your hair? I have before, but no it’s not something I regularly do. I last did that about 4 years ago for my cousin’s quince. Name someone you miss. I’ve answered this a few times recently as well. Name two people you love. My family and my family. Who do you love who hates you with a passion? I dont’t think anyone hates me with a passion. I’m sure a couple people are pretty mad, hurt, and upset with me; though, and rightfully so. I hope they don’t hate me... Are the birds chirping today? Not at the moment, it’s almost midnight. At what age did you start swearing? Not really until I was like 16. Who was your first best friend (apart from a sibling)? When? Do you have memories of going to church when you were little? Yes. What is something you physically can’t do? Walk.

Have you ever been put in the wrong section in a choir? No. What time zone are you in? Pacific. Favorite day of the week? I don’t have one. They’re really all pretty much the same for me. What was your favorite day of the week as a kid? Fridays. Have you ever been a victim of: . . substance abuse? …spiritual abuse? …emotional abuse? …mental abuse? ….physical abuse? …sexual abuse? …sexual harassment? ….bullying? …..another kind of harassment? ….persecution? …discrimination? …hate crimes? …any kind of injustice? Do you have any true friends? I have my family.

[spectrvls]

— ✧ KEHLANI PARRISH ??  no, that’s just REEVA MZUZI SUMMERS !!  she’s the TWENTY FOUR year old adoptive daughter of SCOTT SUMMERS / biological daughter of T’CHALLA, and is, in addition to being an ASTRONOMY MAJOR & TA at paragon academy, a SHOP ASSISTANT at a local mystic store. i hear she’s RESILIENT & EMPATHETIC, but tends to be OBSTINATE & CHAOTIC. her file says that her powers are MYSTICISM & EXTRASENSORY PERCEPTION. you can check out her stats HERE & her pinterest board HERE.

       she’s in to SUPERSTITIONS,                    black cats & voodoo dolls.

SECTION ONE OF THREE: BULLET POINT HISTORY trigger warning for talk of cults, death and mass suicide

she came into this world on the 22nd of december, 1994. the winter solstice. her lungs fillled with air for the very first time as the sun set upon eliye springs, kenya, and as she was laid upon her mothers chest, the group around mother and child chanted that MAUTI ( swahili ; death. fate. ) had arrived.

her mother was a charity worker. her father was a king. she was the result of sun meeting moon, gold meeting cubic zirconia, riches meet ruin. she was an accident. she was SPECIAL. the leaders of the “kanisa” prophesied the coming of a child born from two different worlds that would herald in the end of times. a child that was a reckoning, an end, the final death between two chubby fists. and they found their holy figure in her. 

her mother - she thinks of her this way, always ; her name is as lost to her as the lines upon her face, the only lasting memory being the way she held her a little too tightly, during prayer. she doesn’t know that once, she was soft - her mother was YOUNG. naive. alone. in the cult ( they don’t like this word ) kanisa, she saw a way out of a dire situation. when they approached her, too in the know for her to be comfortable, too in the know for her to think she had a choice, they promised everything that didn’t have for the life growing inside her womb. the master bedroom, at the commune. first pick of all the food, at meal times. pride of place, during prayer. a small bit of new world religion for a roof above her head and food to fill her stomach - she didn’t know the price she would really be paying until it was too late. 

they say that if you drop a frog into boiling water, it’ll jump right out immediately because it knows what you’re trying to do. but if you place the frog into colder waters, and gradually heat the pot - it won’t suspect a thing, and by the time it does, it’ll be too late. her mother was innocent once, a fact that the baby will never know. she didn’t believe in what they were selling - she was just trying to do what was right, trying to make something for her baby to be born into. nine months with the kanisa changed everything. nine months indoctrinated her. by the time her daughter wailed her way into this world, it was too late. 

she’s named mauti because bringing DEATH is her fate. her mother, once, wanted to name her asha. with group thinking, she never gets the chance. 

she, of course, doesn’t remember these early years herself. she gets flashes, sometimes, but she doesn’t feel a connect to them. it was a different time. a different life. the cult ( she likes this word, it grounds her past in a reality that she could never find, without ) believed in a lot of things. mauti was the bringer of death. if they served well, in life, then they would be the members of her spectral court, in the next. it was their responsibility to tend to her and nurture her and push her to her powers. the things they did to her as a newborn in order to make her mutations present were vile and cruel and the only thing that, now, she flinches when she recalls. but they WORKED, and with them a reality...- in their minds, it made the prophecy true. she was death. 

they did other things, too. horrible things, all in the name that they gave her. mutants that scouts found in nearby towns and villages were brought back to the commune. on the full moon, they were sacrificed. mauti would absorb their powers, at least, that’s what they believed, and their spirits would be bound to her, more unwilling servants, for the afterlife. it was the disappearance of mutants, too many to be anything but suspect, that led to the x-men traveling to eliye when she was just two years old.

they found the commune. the chaos of their arrival led the leaders to believe that the end was upon him far sooner, than expected. they gave the order for the group to follow what they had trained for, in this endgame scenario - and one by one, each died by their own hands. bodies began to drop within minutes of the x-mens arrival.

scott found her. he’s never said to this day - probably because he feels she couldn’t handle it - but, she doesn’t imagine anyone other than her own mother was preparing to take her life as well as her own, in that moment. he saved her. little mauti. bringer of doom. two years old and surrounded by so much death, just like had been prophesied. she didn’t cry. everyone on the plane back to the states thought that it was strange, she didn’t. instead, she remained nestled in scott’s arms - falling asleep before they had even taken off, and waking up somewhere over the atlantic with a smile, just for him. it was like the events of the night hadn’t even touched her. 

this was, for a brief time, the only quiet sleep that the baby he named REEVA and gave a home to had. in her dreams, she was tormented by the dead - the ones that had died for her, willing and unwilling. when she woke, it was all the same. she was too young to be able to communicate the hell that she was going through, but when she woke screaming and spent most of her days hysterical, it didn’t take long for certain telepathics to delve into her mind and see what it was she was seeing from her own eyes. she was being driven insane. tortured. she was too YOUNG for her mutations, and there wasn’t much that they could think to do.

scott wanted it to be jean. he just... couldn’t figure out how to ask her to do that, and knew without doing so what her answer would be. it had to be charles, and since he had done it before, placing a block on reeva’s mind so she could have a chance to live normally, for once, wasn’t a hard task. still. it never seemed to fully stick. she remained sane - saved from the worst of it. but as she got older, it was obvious that her interests lay in the OCCULT. she was always an odd girl, too much for many, too little for others - never entirely there in reality, always somewhat stuck to the other side. it was a joke, at first, when someone said that sometimes, they thought she might be more GHOST than she was girl. it lost its humor, over time.

but her father ( and she thinks of him, always, as this ) saved her. his action, while done without her choice, allowed her mutations to mature at a rate that would ensure her continued sanity. she owes him a lot more than just a home. she always will.

SECTION TWO OF THREE: HEADCANONS

because she still, technically, has something of a block on her mind, she’s yet to really realize that the fact she has actual SUCCESS with spells she casts / summoning partakes in / etc is because she’s got a secondary mutation in the form of actual mysticism. in reeva’s eyes, she’s simply harnessing a force that’s already present - she doesn’t realize she creates, too, and connects with a purer form of magic that only a select few can. her extrasensory perception is the only mutation she’s fully aware of, and with it comes the retrocognition and spirit awareness that she’s more KNOWN for.

she knows that t’challa is her biological father. if anyone else said they simply “saw it in a dream” it would sound insane, but when its reeva...- it’s usually something MORE. she doesn’t really have any feelings towards what must have went down between him and her birth mother. she doesn’t resent him, and she doesn’t really want to connect with him, either. she’d love to get to know her birth siblings - but she doesn’t want to get that skewed with inserting herself into their, or t’challa’s, NARRATIVES, either. scott is her father. kaia, amy and felix are her siblings. she was two years old when she joined the family, and they’re all she really KNOWS. 

like i said. for a lot of people, reeva is a lot. she’s far more in touch with “the other side” than she is with reality, and when she was in her teen years, people thought that was pretty weird - rightly so, though it led to her relying on the spirits more than she did real people. she tries not to be weird. she fails, but... that’s also because she stops trying pretty quick. she is who she is and she’s always been this way, so at this point she figures everyone else better just .. get used to that. 

she has two cats, salem and kyteler, and a single rat - his name is pistachio, because the spooky pet name trend only counts for cats, i guess. 

SECTION THREE OF THREE: WANTED CONNECTIONS

x-kids. she’s been in scott’s care since she was two and she’s turning 25 in a couple months, so... yeah. she’s been around the x-men FOREVER. come @ me

best friends. or just. friends, in general. reeva connected solely with ghosts for a really long time because her teen years were rough and people didn’t vibe with who she was - i still rly want her to have a few people who actually do like her tho, and actually ... are her friends. for better or worse.

worst enemies. this kinda connects to the next connection, but also, can be sort of on its own - there are probably so many people who just HATE reeva because of who she is or how she is, and she prob doesn’t feel too good towards them, either. 

disbelievers. is reeva full of shit? actually, no. she’s a little over the top sometimes just cause she can be, but for the most part, what you see is truly what you get - but that doesn’t mean there aren’t many people out there who think otherwise. give them to me.

regular customers. either they’re regulars at the mystic store she works at, or, they’re regulars on the side. for a small price, reeva will do pretty much anything - read your palms, look into a crystal ball, do a tarot reading, check the stars, let you choose a divination stone or three, interpret your magic 8 ball reading. it’s whatever, but it means she probably has a few dozen people she sees on a more regular basis - so hit her up !

coven. incls selene constantine. every witch needs their coven, and that goes double for reeva, who only really finds the likemindedness she’s searching for in other people who practice the craft. just imagine for a second the kinda sh*t this group could get themselves into because its spooky season and spells are ten times more potent...and then let me know if ya wanna be w the in crowd. ( thats us )

paranormal investigation squad / three spots ( one taken by jeannie drake kent ). this is separate to the above because its so wildly contrary to all reeva is. she BELIEVES. she knows ghosts are real. she knows that a lot of things are real, actually - and still, she’s got this little squad on the side. i actually kind of really want this to be a small group of friends ( i’m gonna say ... five people, incl reeva ) who are pRETTY tight knit and have been since they got into college ( slash... whatever. honestly, it’s not outlandish to say some people have known each other for longer than others ) and basically, they just... they visit haunted / spooky / folklore shrouded places together and investigate them. i hate to be that annoying bitch BUT i do kinda want reeva to be defacto leader because i have some neat ideas for threads we could do + i think ?? she could have been someone really gunning for this, herself??? but i’d be p open to seeing how it evolves and whatever, and there’s so many other spots that could be filled. think of the cute little gc we could have !! think about the way they could decide to become youtubers w this !! think of !! the threads !! and gimme. thanks !