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stitch1830 · 3 years

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Bets

Happy Mondangst! Here's some angsty Kantoph :)

......

“Da.”

“That’s right, baby girl!” he cheered in his most ridiculous baby voice. “Da da! Da da!”

Lin giggled in her father’s arms, and Toph jokingly scoffed at the two from the couch. She lay on her back with her hands behind her head, enjoying the vibrations of the two through the ball of her foot that she kept firmly on the ground. “You two are giving me a headache.”

“C’mon, Toph! It’s Lin’s first word, how can you hate this?”

“First off, she’s babbling. It’s not even words yet. Second, the fact that she’s making ‘D’ sounds instead of ‘M’ is the other reason.” she explained simply. “If she says ‘Dada’ before ‘Mama,’ that’s betrayal right there.”

“Sorry, Angel. I just have that effect on women, I guess.”

“Gross,” she complained, but pointed a smile at him, and she felt his heart quicken ever so slightly and his voice let out a quiet chuckle at their antics.

And when his gaze turned back to Lin, Toph could feel through the earth how at peace he was at that moment. Complete adoration for their baby, and she silently laughed to herself at the thought of him having to deal with Lin as a teenager. Oh, she would have him wrapped around her finger for all of eternity, Toph just knew it.

His voice broke up her thoughts. “Hey, what if we had a little competition?”

Toph said nothing, but raised an eyebrow at him, prompting him to continue. “What if we compete to find out who Linny walks to first?” he asked.

“What are the stakes?”

“If I win, we start trying for another baby.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” she laughed.

“And if you win, Lin’s our only perfect little girl.”

“And if she doesn’t walk to either of us??”

“Then we let fate and destiny take over,” he answered rather smugly.

Toph smirked and sat up from her position, ready to playfully protest this silly competition. “You realize that she’s gonna walk to you, right?”

“We don’t know that.”

“Right,” she responded sarcastically. “Lin, the little Daddy’s girl who shares the same birthday as her Baba and whose first words are gonna be ‘Dada’ and ‘Baba.’”

“Mama could be a close third,” he defended.

“Yeah, sure. I’m going to shake on a bet I’m bound to lose.”

“Just a little fun,” he replied, and she could hear the grin in his voice. “Obviously we’ve got time, but, I don’t know. I think it could be fun!”

“You and I have two very different definitions of fun,” she teased.

“But it’s harmless!”

“Harmless?” she laughed. “I could end up fat and pregnant at the end of this!”

“Only if you want to,” he added.

“So this isn’t even a bet at all,” she commented. “It’s just fake stakes on the table.”

She felt him shrug. “Bit of pride on the line, I suppose. What do you say?”

Toph wanted to continue berating him and teasing him, but his heart sang whenever Lin made a noise or reached out for something, and he adored playing little games like this with her. Perhaps deep down in a place that she barely allowed to admit to herself, she could imagine them having another baby. Even if Lin was almost 6 months old, she thought that maybe, just maybe, a family of four would be nice. And when Lin giggled at her father once again, Toph’s resolve to say no to those two disappeared.

Spirits, they had her whole heart, and she couldn’t help but shake her head as she smiled and extended her hand out to him.

“It’s only a bet if we shake on it.”

His silly cheer caused Lin to giggle more, and after he shook Toph’s hand to signify the start of the bet, he playfully kissed each knuckle before Toph mildly complained as she tried to free herself from his grasp.

~~~

They sat on her living room floor, engaged in small talk while they paid attention to Lin’s every move. The elephant koi in the room became a semi-permanent resident in the Beifong house, but everyone learned to live with it, Toph especially.

Sokka carefully treaded every conversation as he supported Lin to standing on her own two feet. Every now and again, his gaze would turn up to Toph to catch her expression. Today it was unreadable, but she sat on the floor with her legs out and leaned back on her arms, a sign of openness.

That was a good sign, right?

The warrior never knew what was good and what wasn’t anymore, because everything reminded them of him. Of Kanto.

And it was unfair, because Toph deserved to go about her life without having to be constantly reminded of the man she loved and lost to a crazy person. But there was no escape; Kanto was at her place of work, at their home, and he was there whenever Lin moved or breathed or learned something new.

None of that seemed to matter to the universe, however, and Toph and Lin and everyone else that loved Kanto lived with the reminder like chronic pain: constant, relentless.

Still, Toph’s body language was more positive than usual, so Sokka took the opportunity to strike up another small conversation.

“So,” he began by clearing his throat. “What do you and Lin have planned for the rest of the day?”

His friend shrugged in response and a nonchalant wave. “Eh, same old shit, Sokka. Maybe I’ll take her to the park. It is a nice day out.”

“How come you only call me Sokka, now?”

Toph shot him a confused look. “Because it’s your name??”

The man rolled his eyes to himself then said, “Well, yeah. I just mean you almost always called me ‘Meathead’ or ‘Snoozles’ or ‘Captain Boomerang.’”

A quiet scoff fell from Toph’s breath, and she dug her knuckles into her earthen floor. “Yeah, well nicknames are for fun times, and I haven’t been in a jovial mood as of late—”

“Toph I just mean—”

“So forgive me if I don’t feel the need to call you by some dumb nickname that reminds me of all the other stupid ones I called him.”

Sokka shut his mouth, but still held onto a bouncing Lin and stared at Toph. Her expression contorted into one of regret, and she let out a tired sigh.

“I’m sorry, Sokka. That was rude.”

“No, Toph, it’s okay,” he reassured her. “I just—” Sokka paused before he continued. What he wanted was to help his friend and hoped she would return to her old self soon.

But the idea seemed silly after a second thought. How could she go back to her old self? Going back wasn’t an option, only forward, to a different Toph Beifong who loved and lost and learned to adapt to this difficult change.

So instead of saying I just want to help you get back to your old self, he amended his statement. “I just want to help you.”

“I know,” she sighed again as she moved to lie down on the ground. “I know you’re all trying to help.”

And Toph did know that. The whole group seemed bent over backwards in helping her through this mess of her life, and she not only wanted, but needed their help. However, figuring out things that did help seemed to be a challenge, for it all required talking or thinking about him.

She really couldn’t do that at this point, not even nine months after his death.

Saying his name sent her down a spiral of thoughts of longing and regret, the feeling so strong that it tempted her to visit their bedroom again. But she hadn’t stepped into that room since she was dragged out by Sokka, because she wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to leave it a second time.

Instead of visiting their shared bedroom or speaking her dead almost-fiancé’s name or figuring out what could possibly help her through this, she lay on the ground, focusing on the earth’s humming while blocking out all other erratic and uneven vibrations. It was soothing, being completely one with the earth and ignoring everything else. Her mind wasn’t racing, her heart wasn’t hurting, and she felt a feeling that strangely resembled tranqui—

“Toph?”

Her focus was broken, and as annoyed as she was, Toph responded to her friend and asked, “What is it?”

“Are you okay?”

“Stupid question.”

“I just mean—”

“Mama!”

Lin’s interruption pulled Toph further from the earth, and so she waved her hand in the air and exclaimed, “Mama’s right here, Lin. Just wallowing in self-pity as a widow does, although I’m not even sure I can call myself that.”

“Toph,” Sokka began, but Toph continued her useless ramble. “Probably not, since he didn’t even ask me to marry him. Kind of a requirement to be in the mopey widow club, don’t you think? Pathetic, really, I don’t even have a dead fiancé, just a dead baby daddy.”

“Toph—”

“You know what, guess it doesn’t matter I could just—”

“Toph!”

Sokka’s exclamation startled her, but she didn’t move from her spot. She waited for him to continue with whatever was so important to interrupt her self-deprecating monologue, but he didn’t speak again.

Instead, she felt little, uneven, and heavy footsteps toddle toward her. Toph sat upright in an instant, completely shocked at the sensation of Lin walking.

“Go Lin!” Sokka cheered.

Toph cheered as well and held her hands out excitedly to catch her daughter. “C’mere, Lin! You got it!”

And with a few babbles and shouts for Mama, Lin made her way into Toph’s arms.

The earthbender pulled Lin in for a tight hug and smothered her cheek with kisses. “You did it, baby girl! You took your first steps!”

“She’s a natural, Toph! Gonna be running tomorrow,” Sokka teased.

Toph grinned at the thought, and moved to balance Lin’s tiny feet on her knee. She felt Lin squirm in her arms and crane her neck, as if she was looking for someone.

“Dada.”

And with a single exclamaion of Lin’s favorite word, Toph’s heart shattered just as quickly as it soared a moment ago.

…….

Sokka’s grin faded slowly with Toph’s as he watched her realize what Lin wanted. In a second, one of the greatest feelings and feats of Toph’s baby girl turned into a situation of pure grief. And All he wanted was for his best friend to have a single fucking moment not be ruined by the memory of losing Kanto.

But that was impossible. Every accomplishment was tainted with this memory, and there was nothing to do but accept that harsh reality.

He watched Toph suddenly become overwhelmed by the grief. She bit her quivering lip as she combed through Lin’s hair over and over, fixating on a few curly strands at the top of her head.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, all the while Lin kept asking for her dad. Sokka was about to intervene, but then Toph let out a quiet breath and answered Lin.

“Yeah, Lin. Dada would be so proud of you right now.” She formed a small, sorrowful smile at Lin while tears fell down her cheeks. “I’d rub it in his face, too.” Toph choked out a chuckle, then continued, “But Baba isn’t here anymore, baby girl. It’s just you and me.

“Don’t worry, kiddo. All your aunts and uncles will be around to bother us, especially this Meathead over there, okay?”

When she pointed a finger at Sokka, Lin turned to see, and smiled at him. And Sokka found himself grinning back at Lin for only a second. For when he turned his gaze to Toph, he saw her tear-stricken face and any signs of happiness left Sokka’s face.

He saw Toph hastily wipe at her eyes, then stood up with Lin in her arms. “Thanks for uh, coming by, Sokka. But Lin and I are gonna spend some time together alone.”

She walked out into the backyard before he could even protest.

Sokka didn’t move from his spot, however. He just sat there, thinking and wondering and hoping there was something he could do to help his friend. But she was a silent sufferer, carrying the burden of grief everywhere she went and barely let on what hurt the most about it all. As a bystander, it hurt Sokka to see her shoulder it all. What was he to do, though?

He let out a tired sigh. Sometimes there was nothing to do but be there, even if it made him feel useless.

……

“You’re a terrible listener.”

Sokka ignored her jab and sat down next to her, Lin bouncing gleefully in her spot in front of her mother. He gave her elbow a light nudge and replied, “I know, but I know you don’t actually want to be alone.”

“I just said—”

“Listen, Toph. We don’t have to talk about it, about any of it. But you’re like me, okay? I don’t like talking about what’s bothering me, but that doesn’t mean solitude is the answer.”

Toph bit her lip as she considered the offer, but made no outright objections to his presence. So they sat there, silent and contemplative about everything and nothing in particular.

It wasn’t until minutes of silence (and little babbles and single words from Lin) that Toph finally spoke. She chose her words carefully, as if saying the wrong thing would send her down a rabbit hole of despair. But Sokka watched her and steadied her with a reassuring hand to her shoulder.

Toph gave a sad smile as she spoke and played with Lin’s wavy hair. “We, uh, we made a stupid bet.

“He liked these silly games and it made him so fucking happy, I didn’t think twice about them. And it gave us a reason to be competitive, and you know how we would get with this shit. Still, they were harmless.”

She hastily wiped her eyes then continued, “But then he wanted to have a bet on who Lin would walk to first, and he said that if Lin walked to him, we’d try for another baby. If she walked to me, no more kids.”

Toph let out a sorrowful chuckle as she slightly hung her head low and let the tears fall in her lap. Sokka’s eyes grew misty at the thought. A silly bet turned into a reminder for Toph, and it felt cruel.

But then Toph took in a deep breath and brought her head back up, pointing her gaze toward the warrior. “You know what’s even crazier? I was gonna let him win. Under the illusion I was upset, of course.”

Sokka softly chuckled at that.

Lin cried out and turned to face Toph, who gently rubbed her daughter’s chubby cheeks. Sokka still sat there, hand on Toph’s shoulder, and watched through his blurred vision his best friend continue to open up to him.

She sighed again. “I’d let him win all the silly games if it meant—”

Her sentence was left unfinished, but nothing else needed to be said. Toph pulled in Lin to an embrace, breathing deeply into her hair as the gravity began to weigh heavy on the pair.

Toph mindlessly played with Lin’s soft curls. “But I guess all bets are off, or I win them all now.

“I don’t feel like the winner, though, Sokka.”

Sokka’s grip tightened on Toph’s shoulder as his sign of support, because he truly had no words. All he could do was sit and stare and hope that there would be something on the horizon to look forward to.

And yet, in that very same moment, he couldn’t help but silently admire Toph’s strength. Her ability to carry on and raise Lin while facing practically an insurmountable amount of grief was something that couldn’t be overlooked. He’d seen his friend show great feats of strength and resilience in the past, but in the back of his mind, he thought that perhaps this was the greatest one of all.

Still, he’d be damned if he was going to let her face this mountain on her own. So they sat there silently once again as Sokka’s hand remained on her shoulder, reminding her that he was there no matter what. He would be there to help her and to hold onto her through it all.

She deserved that. She deserved that and much more, but this was their reality. It would have to do.

#kantoph #toph #toph beifong #kanto #lin #lin beifong #sokka #atla #lok #writing #the long winding road to you #the chief and dep series #like a boomerang i always come back to you series #mondangst #hope it fits the angst bill ope #(amanda's is better haha!)#srsrly tho go read it

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babi-correia · 4 years

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Officer Down

From Anon #1:

Would you be able to write a really angsty story with adam ruzek x reader and they are both members of intelligence and they have a fight in the locker rooms and it affects their work, and then reader gets injured or something and at med it’s just fluff? thanks, i love your writing!

And Anon #2:

Could you do number 13 and 20 with adam ruzek x reader? preferably reader is the one who gets hurt, i live for angst lol! thank you 13- “Don’t die on me, please.” 20- “You’re the only thing that makes me smile.”

I thought these really fit in together!

Words: 2109 (...ops?) Warnings: Canon-typical violence, gunshots, injured reader, cursing, blood... angst, I guess, be prepared for anything Pairing: Adam Ruzek x Reader A/N: I’m still working on my angst-writting skills, but I hope you guys like it!

“Adam, this is ridiculous.” You snap once you walk into the locker, not caring if someone else hears you. He, on the other hand, quickly shushes you as he scopes the room for prodding ears and closes the door. “See what I mean!”

“You know how Voight is about dating within the unit.” He says, going back to his locker. You throw your hands in the air.

“For God’s sake, Adam!” You can hear the desperation in your tone, and it makes you cringe. “We’ve met each other’s family; everyone knows we’re dating except the unit.”

“And it will stay that way.” He says sternly, making his way out of the locker room and leaving you there alone.

Your blood feels like it’s burning with anger inside your veins and you slam the locker door shut, barely controlling yourself before you step outside and into the bullpen.

The white board stares at you mockingly, the case displayed having been there for over two days. Child abduction, where four kids had gone missing and two had come up dead by the river. The whole police force was on overdrive trying to catch the perpetrator, but no one was making any progress whatsoever.

“Third kid came up by the river.” Voight says curtly, updating the board. “And I don’t see any progress on the case!”

He places a pin on the map, in the place where the kid was found, and you approach it, tapping your finger on it as you recognize the area.

“I have a CI that lives and hangs out in that area.” You mutter. “He’s from my time in Narcotics. I’ll pay him a visit and see if he saw anything.”

“Alone?” Adam asks, prompting a glare from you. Typically, you would take someone with you, but today it would just be adding fuel to the fire.

“Yep.” You say, patting your pocket, checking for your keys before you trot down the stairs and into your car.

You make the drive there while thinking back to your relationship troubles, nearly running a red light shortly before you reach your destination.

You park under a tree, turning off your car and calling your CI. He picks up at the second ring and you instruct him to meet you at your car, which he promptly does. He closes the door after he enters, eyeing you warily.

“It’s been a while.” He remarks, fiddling with his hands.

“This area of town has been quiet. Until that kid came up, that is.” You say calmly before turning to him. “You don’t happen to know anything, do you?”

“I, erm… I heard something about a black car not from around here.”

“What do you mean ‘not from around’?” You ask, picking up your notebook and your pen.

“Out of state. It was orange and black, I think.” He says, scratching his head.

“New York?” You ask, pulling up a picture of a New York plate on your phone and showing him. He nods. “You remember the plate?”

“I think it had a GO something in the letters, and two fives in a row.” He says, tapping his fingers on his legs. “It was a lady driver, I’m sure of that. And I’m almost certain there was a rental sticker on the back window.”

“So, you’re saying that it was a woman, and that she rented a car in New York, and then came all the way to Chicago?” You say, scribbling down on your note pad.

“That’s what I saw.” He says. You nod and slip him a couple of bills, prompting him to leave the car.

You begin to make your way back to the precinct when you notice a shiny black car with a huge container trailer parked on an abandoned lot and slow your car until you stop at the end of the street. You grab the portable radio and hook it up to your jacket, checking your gun and holstering it before you grab the car’s radio.

“Main, this is 50-21 Ocean requesting immediate back-up at the abandoned lot by the river in South Lock Street, sighting of a suspect’s vehicle, a black sedan with New York plates, RTO-9554. Plain-clothed officer on scene making initial approach and assessment of the perimeter.” You say into the radio, unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the car.

You turn your radio’s volume to the minimum, but Adam’s voice is still perfectly audible through it.

“(Y/N), what the hell are you doing?! Wait for back-up!” He hisses through the radio, making you roll your eyes.

“Focus on getting here, Ruzek.” You say coldly, your hand resting on your holster as you inch towards the abandoned lot. The area is open, no trees or buildings for you to hide behind, so you just hope for the best as you get closer. You hear the sirens in the distance and curse out before picking your radio up again. “50-21 Ida, George, David, Adam, and all assisting officers, kill the sirens and the lights. The area is exposed and all we have for us is the element of surprise.”

But it’s too late. The cars are already on the side street when they kill the sirens, and it was enough to get the woman’s attention, as she exits the container with something in hand. You quickly draw your gun, but it’s not quick enough. You hear the bang and feel something hitting hard against your chest as you fall backwards.

Everything grows numb for a moment, the sounds drown out and you feel yourself falling to the floor, but can’t really find it in you to care about it. The numbness subsides partially and you regain your hearing, being able to hear a lot of shouting not too far from you. You feel your shirt sticking to your chest and start feeling a white-hot pain that knocks the wind out of you. Next thing you know, you’re struggling to breathe.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N), can you hear me?” You barely hear Adam’s voice over the noise of your own blood rushing through your ears. Adam’s at your side, on his knees and looking at you with a frazzled expression. “Don’t die on me, please!”

You look down at his hands and see that they’re covered in blood; in your blood. Panic sets in and you look at him with wide and scared eyes.

“I don’t want to die.” You rasp out desperately, holding Adam’s forearm as he tries to stop the bleeding. You can see the tears in his eyes and feel your own streaming down your face as you cough. One of his bloody hands shoots to his radio before he speaks.

“Main, this is 50-21 Ida again, officer down! Where’s my fucking ambulance!?” He shouts, his hand trembling when he lets go of the radio. He gets a vague reply from Main and focuses on trying to stop your bleeding as you feel yourself growing colder and weaker.

“Adam…” You say, meekly putting your hand on his arm. He looks at you, fear, sadness and despair evident in his face. “I love you, never forget that.”

He stifles a sob as one of his hands leaves your chest to cup your face, wiping out a tear.

“I love you too, but don’t die on me, c’mon (Y/N). I know you can do this.” He mutters, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he turns his attention back to stopping your bleeding. You hear footsteps rushing towards you and see the rest of the unit looking between you and the three different streets next to where you are.

You can hear the sirens in the distance, but you’re fighting a loosing battle against your eyelids. You rest your hands atop Adam’s, making him look towards you.

“You know… I always wanted to die for something.” You rasp, watching him shake his head and shushing you. “You being here makes it better. I always feared dying alone.”

“(Y/N), you’re not dying.” This time the sob comes out loud and clear, and it breaks your heart. “You’re not, you’re not leaving me, not yet, c’mon.”

“Adam…”

“Don’t you dare. I know you love me, and I love you, but you’re not dying, you’re not leaving me here stranded and alone. You’re going to be fine. We’re going home and watching a crappy movie cramped up in that small couch of yours, but we’re not going to actually watch the movie because you’re going to be making silly remarks and comebacks about the movie, and then you’ll tickle me because the movie is so bad that you can’t even watch it anymore. And then we’ll shut the TV off, and kiss and cuddle in the couch before we venture into the kitchen to cook dinner, and I’ll probably burn something no one thought it was possible to burn, and we’ll have to order something in and we’ll laugh about how much of a disaster I am before we go to bed and cuddle some more.”

Adam’s openly bawling when he finishes speaking, his tears mixing with your blood on top of his hands. You sob slightly before looking around at the members of Intelligence.

“There goes your plan of keeping everything secret.” You whisper, chuckling slightly before groaning in pain.

“That’s not important right now.” He says, his head snapping in the direction of the sirens. “The ambulance is almost here baby, hold on.”

“I love you, Adam.” You whisper, no longer able to keep your eyes open. Darkness consumes you as you vaguely hear Adam calling your name.

Adam finds himself in the apartment you’ve shared for the last two months. No one knew about it other than the two of you, and now Intelligence. Jay goes with Adam, urging him to take a shower and change into fresh clothes.

Adam just feels numb. He feels like his heart was ripped out and trampled in that street, left behind along with your blood. His emotions come back and hit him at once, making him collapse in the middle of the living room. His mind keeps taking him back and replaying the scared and sad look on your face as he saw life slowly draining from you. Jay kneels beside Adam and hugs him as Adam sobs.

“I can’t do this without her.” He manages to say, clinging to Jay as is his life depended on it. “I need her here with me.”

Adam nearly collapses when he sees you in the hospital room, your skin sickly ashy, more tubes than he wants to count connected to you, your eyes closed and your body unmoving.

What he would give for you to wake up right then and joke with him about how he was forced to out your relationship, or just hug him and say that you’re fine and that the two of you are going to be ok.

He gingerly sits in the chair by your bed, trying to rub away the stinging of his eyes from crying and grabbing your hand, gently tracing patterns.

Over the days, he talks to you a lot and refuses to leave your side. He’s pretty much memorized the timing of the beeping of the machines, so his ears perk up when one of them beeps out of time. He jolts forward and grabs your hand with his two.

“(Y/N), sweetheart, can you hear me?” He asks hopefully, sitting in the edge of his chair. He slumps when he gets no response. “Baby, you have no idea what I’d do just to have you come back to me. You’re my love, you’re my joy, my life, you’re the only thing that makes me smile. Please, please come back to me.”

“A girl has to almost die to get declarations like this?” He shoots up when he hears your voice, his eyes wide as they fixate on you. “You’re a huge teddy bear, you know?”

He launches forward and hugs you gingerly, hiding his face in your neck as he starts to openly cry.

“I love you so much, I’m sorry I’m an ass to you sometimes.” He whispers into your neck, sobbing. “I was so scared.”

You slowly wrap your arms around him and rub his back.

“I’m right here, babe. I’m not leaving you this early.” You say, making him pull away slightly before you speak again. You wipe his tears away with your thumbs, cupping his face. “I’m the only thing that makes you smile, right? So please do.”

He chuckles, tears brimming on his eyes before he brings his lips to yours and kisses you softly.

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xoexoxhoe · 5 years

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On The Hill

A/N: This is LITERALLY one of the most interesting things i’ve ever read. My Co wrote this based off of her love for political angst/dramas, and honestly, it’s really good guys, TOTALLY WORTH THE READ. We hope you enjoy this little piece by Momo (@sailor-baek )

Characters: Park Seonghwa (ATEEZ) & Reader (Y/N), featuring another ATEEZ member!

Theme: Political AU, angst, love affair, political drama

Nothing comes easy when you work for the President of the United States. Especially when it involves Park Seonghwa.

💥Warning: Angst💥

The processional march was colorful noise in your ears as you followed closely behind the big man. It got older every time you heard it, which was, quite regrettably, every first Friday of the month. Really, anything would be better than the obnoxious blaring of-what was it? An oboe? You had no idea but it sure didn’t sound like the Chopin Nocturne op.9 no.2 you had to turn on every night to sleep.

“You’re doing it again.”

You didn’t even remember getting on the floor, a communications intern behind the press caucus chuckled. Carrie Ann. George Washington University undergrad and poli-sci masters at the good ‘ole Harvard. You made a mental note to fire the little shit as soon as this thing was over. Your attention turned to the man, still waiting for a complete introduction at the podium.

“Doing what, sir?”

“That frown thing with your eyebrows. You’re gonna get wrinkles, Y/N. What was that cream thing you use? You better stock up before Big Pharma gets their hands on the patent or I’ll have to call you...what is that new movie with Oprah?”

“A Wrinkle In Time, sir.”

“Yes, that one! A wrinkle-”

“It’s a childrens movie; nothing to do with premature aging, sir.”

A little huff escaped his lips and a slight tug appeared on yours. The press secretary was clapping now signaling for your boss to give his address.

“I’m sure your daughter will be happy to watch it with you tonight. Mr. President, you’re up.”

“Ah yes, it appears so.”

You watched as he made his way up to the center; flurries of camera flashes turning the west wing corridor into a light show. This is the time when you would check out. His speech was solid, you had looked it over yourself the hour prior. Today, however, there was a particular bump in your paved smooth travel down the hill. A rather large bump, by the name of Park Seonghwa. He was standing to the right behind his Prime Minister with the cheekiest smile plastered across his face. Bilateral economic relations didn’t warrant this kind of happiness, it oozed off of him like fucking honey. You had heard your greenies gushing over him earlier that day. The hot speech writer from the embassy. Why was he even here? Stupid question, you knew it was because he was Prime Minister Cho’s nephew. Nepotism at its finest. You had to use that one later. It would definitely sting. When clapping resumed again you made your way to the podium to rally the cameras back into the hall.

“Coverage of the reception will be permitted. I’ll have the details sent over via secure line. Until then please wait in the briefing room for further instruction. Thank you, everyone.”

You turned the corner still trying to shake that stupid smile from your mind when Carrie Ann caught your eye at the coffee corner. Before you could stalk all the way over, someone called your name.

“Ms. Chief of Staff...sir?”

God, you had forgotten your interns had project due today. “One sec, hun.”

You pivoted straight into a paper cup of coffee. “You look like you wanted to, um, talk to me.”

“Carrie Ann, do I amuse you.” The cup was warm in your hand now; sickly sweet aromas filling your nose. A little sip of the searing liquid confirmed your suspicion, too much liquid sugar. The poor girl had gone white.

“More specifically, my face-does it...does it make you want to laugh in a room of every major news outlet in the Pacific?”

“No ma’am, I didn’t mean to-”

“But you did.” You took a longer sip and gave her one last canvas before turning back to the little crowd that had gathered. “This coffee is wonderful by the way. Just a little suggestion, though; go easy on sweetener. You’ll need to remember that when you start at the local Starbucks.” You relished the gasps all the way to your office. It wasn’t until someone cleared their throat that you remembered you weren’t alone.

“Shitty morning, my greenies. Tell me something that won’t make me want to throw you off of the east wing balcony.” A lazy finger point at the intern that had tapped your shoulder earlier opened a flood of updates.

“The KORUS coverage just hit air and it’s already trending on Twitter and Facebook.”

“Washington Governor Townsend has agreed to the state park expansion plans in Olympia; we should have the contractors’ bids on your desk no later than noon.”

“The writer guy is waiting in your blue room, ma’am. Said he has an appointment.”

Messy papers were strewn all over your desk; draft bills for POTUS to look over and countless testimony from the bane of your existence that was the municipal aide fund. You didn’t even look up. “I know plenty of writers, Joshua, you need to be more specific.”

“The hot one, ma’am. Tall, Korean, windswept hair look-”

“You need not go on, dear, this is the White House, not a middle school cafeteria. Send him in.”

The group trudged to the door. “Wait. I want all of you to finish up those Arbor Day submissions from the kindergartners. Pick a winner too.”

“The criteria, ma’am?”

“I don’t know, pick one that colored the trees unrealistic colors. I support impressionism and nothing says ‘Happy Tree Day! Thank you for the oxygen!’ more than a purple ficus.”

“Got it, ma’am, purple ficus.” You shoo-ed them off with the hope that the president would get a chuckle from handing a five-year-old artist a certificate for a periwinkle disaster on national television.

“That girl from earlier. I passed her crying on the way here; such a harsh way to be let go.”

You scoffed, “I might just call secret service to drag her out. Why are you here, Mr. Park? You didn’t have an appointment.”

Seonghwa sauntered to your desk, unbuttoning his suit jacket while easing onto the varnished oak and cocking his head to the side, “Hm…” he grabbed the bow cascading down your blouse, rolling the silk in his fingers, “I never imagined something so frilly on someone so…”

“So what?”

He glared down at you, dropping the bow and retracting his fingers, grabbing the pocket square out of his suit, “So… disdainful.”

You smiled unevenly, “Sometimes I wonder where you learn words like this, but then I remember you went to college here and I can’t one up you with pretentious vocabulary.”

A smile spread across his face, “Do you want it in Korean? 경멸적인.”

“Why should I respect you, Seonghwa? I’m the White House Chief of Staff; not the eager college girl that gets you a cream cheese bagel in the morning.”

The way he got under your skin was criminal. Bad enough that he still hadn’t answered your initial question. What was the question? You were getting too old for this. “Your speech on NATO was cute; Prime Minister Cho did well for the press.”

“Did you like it?”

“Oh, I did. In fact I have a particular word in mind to describe it.”

“What would that be?”

“쓰레기.”

“Ah! She knows Korean now; such a dynamic personality.” His index finger tapped against his palm, “First off, we have a condescending Chief of Staff, who, with no mercy or remorse, loves to fire her perky college interns. Second, she must be achingly smart because she dragged my Korean speech-”

“I’ll stop you right there. Perky? Not exactly the word I’d use to-”

Seonghwa stood, readjusting his suit, “Let me finish, Y/N. Finally, for someone so beautiful, you sure do have a terrible temper.”

“You came here to be an asshole; is that it?”

“Takes one to know one, ma’am.”

“You’re the one that called it a dynamic personality.”

He paused, clasping his hands together, “I simply came to ask if I’d be seeing you at the party tonight.”

“To gawk at your latest arm candy? Don’t count on it.”

◎

The Secretary of Commerce had always rubbed you the wrong way. From the beginning of the appointment, green shadows in his hollow eyes had made his motive clear. Sure, the trade renewal was beneficial to everyone. It was especially so to one certain senior official that had poured half the budget into the Korean subsidiary of a Chinese chemical manufacturer. You weren’t a god, neither was the president. The things that were sacrificed in the name of universal well being wouldn’t keep you up at night. Besides, the geezer talking your ear off had to pay for his estate in Great Barrington somehow. You felt a hand slip around your waist.

“It was a pleasure, Mr. Secretary. Congratulations on the agreement.”

Pulled away without much more than a nod in his direction you turned your attention to your companion. “How did you know I was dying of boredom?”

“Y/N, dear, you wear your heart on your sleeve. It couldn’t have been more obvious if you had screamed ‘insolent plutocrat’ in his face.”

You gravitated towards the bar and took the cucumber vodka Yunho held out. He was every bit the man your parents had expected; fitting the description a 9 year old you had mapped out and stuck to the fridge. Doctor Jeong Yunho; Chief of surgery at Georgetown, specializing in neurology. How else could you describe Yunho but simply strapping. Heels didn’t challenge his height. His goofy smile never faltered and his bright eyes followed you like a puppy. Walking into any function with him felt like a cold drink laced with ecstasy; only mildly dangerous and the biggest ego booster. He made you feel powerful.

You leaned in to begin a whisper into his ear.

“My my my, what do we have here?” If Yunho was ecstasy, Seonghwa was the dirtiest mephedrone on the black market. That hand found your waist again. The woody scent on Yunho’s lapel invaded your senses. There came a time every woman had to face the music; you hadn’t wanted it to be tonight.

“Mr. Park, I don’t believe you’ve met my fiancé.”

“Park Seonghwa, right? I’m Yunho, nice to meet you, man.”

The newest patron took his hand, giving it a firm shake. “Likewise, Doctor. I assume congratulations are in order.” You cast a sidewards glance to Yunho who was playing idly with the silver band on his finger. The whole ordeal was suffocating.

“So when’s the big day?” Seonghwa’s eyes were on you now, still full of the morning’s mischief.

“End of June; we’ll make sure to send you an invitation.” You scooted a little closer to Yunho, letting his guarding presence hold you upright. A shrill beep sounded from his breast pocket; one that you had heard many times. He cleared his throat a little and reached for the pager. Duty always called. It didn’t matter even if you had just helped to divert a nuclear crisis. If someone had their head cracked open on an operating table, Dr. Jeong would be there to patch them up. You took a long swig of the sweating cocktail and set it down.

“You should go, honey. It sounds urgent.”

He offered you a sheepish smile. Seonghwa just turned to face the bar, sloshing a drink in his hand.

“Multiple trauma crash on the 95. Baby, I’m sorry.” Yunho lightly grabbed out your hands that re-did the buttons of his suit.

“I of all people know that work is work. Don’t sweat it kid. I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay?”

“You’re not coming home?”He met your lips in a chaste kiss.

“I fly to Mumbai first thing in the morning and I still have lots of stuff to do before then.”

Yunho just nodded with understanding and bent down to peck your cheek one last time. “Text me when you land.”

“Will do. Drive safe.” When he was far you heard a snicker come from the side. Rolling your eyes you motioned the bartender over for a refill. It was Bruno tonight. Thank god. He always kept the good stuff on the side for you.

“Work is work, huh?”

“Precisely.”

The brooding man eased towards you slightly, still looking forward. “Are you working me?”

“For what reason would I do that? I have nothing to gain.”

He downed his dark liquid. “We both know that isn’t true.” and with that, he was gone into the crowd of tipsy politicians. Dim chandeliers and the gaudy presentation was suddenly becoming too much. With swift steps you made your way to the president’s table, a pleasant smile plastered on your face.

“Sir, I’m going to head out for the night; lots to do for tomorrow.”

“Of course, Y/N! Send my regards to Yunho on his surgeries. I saw that he left earlier.”

It was that obvious, huh? “I will. Thank you, Mr. President. Congratulations again on the agreement.” With a quick side hug to the misses and last goodbyes, you walked to the back entrance. Your night detail was waiting at the door, purse and coat in hand.

“Evening, ma’am.” You took your purse and got into the car.

“Hello, boys. I’m so ready to sleep.”

“Home, ma’am?”

“Not tonight, Sarge.”

“Of course.”

The ride to the Regis was short. Without much thought you were in your suite; draped in silk and nursing a vintage malt the adorable concierge had given you. And you had tried so hard to not come off as an alcoholic. How disappointing. The door clicked open but you didn’t pay it any attention as you were still enthralled by the itinerary in front of you. A hand pulled the pin out of your makeshift bun sending hair cascading over your shoulders.

“You work too hard, Y/N.”

“I am my work. It runs my life” The humming in your ear made a familiar heat rush to your chest. It flared out down your arms in little tingles.

“This here isn’t work. I think this is something you’re doing all for yourself.”

You reached behind you, bringing lips hard against your own. There was a little cut on the bottom one from a consistent bite the owner was likely not aware of. Sucking on the spot elicited the deepest moan you’d ever heard. Music on par with Nocturne op.9.

“Add selfishness to the qualities of my dynamic personality.”

You turned around in your seat and found a firm grip on your ass pulling you flush against a rattling chest. “He seems like a great guy.”

“Don’t talk about him, Seonghwa.” Stepping off the chair you pushed him towards the bed. He fell onto the plush surface without a sound of protest.

“You definitely have a type. The press would have a field day.”

Settling over the cocky speech writer that had been tugging on the edges of your mind all day was satisfying to say the least. You fit there perfectly; taking everything that was Park Seonghwa in until it made you dizzy. Though not as dizzy as he became when you abused his neck with abandon. You always adored his icy veins threatening to pop in restraint. His hands fumbled at your hip, willing you to move against him. He was too busy getting off to shameless moans of his name in his ear to feel your knee press down hard on his clothed dick.

“If anything gets out to the media, prepare to have this handed over to your uncle on a silver fucking platter.” His breath hitched and you swore the bulge in his pants only grew. You replaced the knee with your hand and used the other to rip open his now wrinkled button down. Your favorite surface. Not as broad as Yunho, but Seonghwa would say the filthiest things to get you to paint trails down his chest until he couldn’t breathe. That’s the difference between your choice of drugs. The most dangerous ones were the most addictive. So when he captured your mouth again, a fresh whimper on his lips, you had no intention of backing up the threat. Seonghwa. Seonghwa. Seonghwa. Pure honey to taste.

“Please, just fucking ruin me, Y/N.”

“I serve at the pleasure.”

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mumpkins · 5 years

Text

Private OC Rating

Done by @cho-rates, I just decided to have the balls to make it public and answer questions! (as well as fix some things)

cho’s comments and questions will be in BOLD.

My answers and fixed places will be in ITALIC!

Name: Shotaro Kaneda

Hero/Villain Name (if applicable): N/A

Age: 24 ( An aged up verse, he’s a couple years older than 1-A. Though sometimes I will portray his teen years as well, I have more information on his adult verse. I do want to flesh out teen years at some point though lol )

Birthday: September 5 (a virgo eww)

Gender: Male

Orientation: Bi-sexual

Height: 5'7"

Weight: 133 lbs

Hair: ear-length, fixed but slightly unruly, black

Appearance: Athletic agile build, Asian descent, brown eyes, red tinted hands and feet, small red horns on his forehead, long spiked / devilish red tail

Body: Athletic agile build

Quirk: Steam – Kaneda can build up and blow a hot steam that can potentially burn (or even melt depending on the force) his opponents. (Ahaha, the quirk fits the body appearance. I bet this one is going to be a hot head or really sweet)

Weakness: Building up and releasing too much steam at once can cause overexertion to the point where he can and will collapse and not be able to move for a while. Also his fucking ego. (LMFAO, I guess we’re dealing with the former and not the latter!)

Personality: Kaneda becomes the main symbol of defiance, expressing anarchy behavior towards authority and absolutely does not accept blatant disrespect. Kaneda values loyalty and becomes vengeful when trust is broken. He is impulsive, hot-headed, egotistical, and maintains a tough exterior; however, he is brave, independent, and highly empathetic. As a leader, Kaneda will look out for the safety and well-being of his allies, and will throw himself in front of a bullet for them if need be. (This!! I like that you didn’t make him a straight jerk and that you gave him good traits as well!)

Do they work well with others?: You are either with him or against him. By default he will work well if not negotiate unless you have a badge stating your authority.

Family: Parents deceased; family is his gang of brothers, all misfits and loyal to the bone

Friends (other oc’s or in BNHA universe): OC’s; his bike gang

Enemies(other oc’s or in BNHA universe): literally by default does not trust the cops or heroes (LOL)

Romantic Interests: by happenstance, Izuku Midoriya (LOL pt.2)

What do they think about heroes?: Oh shit oh fuck uhhhh

A couple of things about heroes. He sees the rise of fame being motivation for pro-heroes lately. They seem real fake to him, and it runs along the lines of Stain’s idea of “false heroes”. But he also sees them as a bunch of buzz kills when he’s trying to ride out and do his own thing that happens to be illegal. (LOL this guy is so problematic in a very headass type of way and it’s really entertaining. He’s a really fun character to read about.)

What do they think about villains?: They’re somewhat easier to work with, but he does not associate himself with hardcore villains either. As much as he himself could easily be considered one, he considers himself more in a grey area. He won’t kill a hero – actually he hesitates to kill anyone – but he won’t turn on a villain either if only because any of them could either arrest him or kill him. (Ah, he’s smarter than he lets on. I wonder how much of this is empathy and how much of this is him saving his own ass,,)

In terms of villains, he’s very much along the lines of “snitches get stitches”. At this point it doesn’t matter what his views are with a villain or a rival gang, he’s not gonna call the cops or any heroes as that is a lower blow than trying to either run or solve the issue on his own. He would rather risk his dignity than call the authorities.

Is their first reaction to danger: flight or fright?

Depends on the danger. If he knows it’s an even match, he’ll throw fists. If he knows he has no chance, he’ll turn tail (heh) and run. (i’m actually laughing omg stop)

If they had to be stuck on an island with one BNHA character, who would it be and why?

don’t don’t ever give him the option (brO TELL ME)

Favorite holiday and why?

Halloween. As a child he always loved to dress up as his favorite hero. As an adult, he’s more attuned to the day before Halloween as “Mischief Day” and takes “tricks” to the extremes.

Do they have a certain way of dressing/ style?

His wardrobe is casual and lazy punk clothes. He does occasionally sport a bright red jacket with his gang’s logo on the back.

Pet peeves: Assuming his character for his looks (I mean you right but he hates it) (LMFAO I’m trying to give a serious review here and you hitting me with all this lolol)

Favorite food: shrimp tempura and rice

Favorite drink: Pepsi (ayyeee, pepsi > coke)

What is their favorite season/weather?: Summer

What is their sleep schedule like?: Whenever (mood)

Introvert, Extrovert or Ambivert?: Extrovert

Quickest way to upset them?: Pull his tail (I….I’m so tempted)

What type of student were they/are they?: Given that he only went to school so he didn’t have to do community service… he did the bare minimum, still got held back once (got mightily pissed off about it), and left as soon as he turned 18. Will also add that the school he went to was one step closer to juvie.

Superlative that fits them best (class clown, teachers pet, etc): Most Likely Will Be His Own Boss

A song you associate with them: Survival of the Fittest - Robert DeLong

What’s their diet like?: He will inhale anything in front of him, but he has a real fast metabolism

What’s the last thing they ate?: McDonald’s burger combo

Hobbies: riding his motorcycle and sometimes play video games

Guilty Pleasures: I mean. If you got the dokis for a hero and you’re a real anarchist……..

When and what was the last thing that made them cry?: laid in bed one night. like you do. thought about where his life was. wondered where it was going. you know just one of those fun nights. (this got too real too fast and i feel mildly attacked)

General Extras: In general, he is a real neutral guy that doesn’t play sides unless you’re on his specifically. He doesn’t take being talked down to and will even argue his side to keep himself above it all. Even raise fists. But he is impulsive as shit and does not always think his decision through. Definitely not book smart, but strongly street smart and highly confident in his actions. (I get that vibe from everything you’ve said, you summarized it really well and took the words out of my mouth!)

Do you plan on filling out a roleplay form(No pressure if you don’t want to do it, this is more for me so I can keep your forms together if you send in both): nah I’m just curious about this one

Creator Name (that’s you!): Mumzy

Blog name where I can contact you: mumpkins

Did you have fun doing this?! (pls just say yes so my feelings don’t get hurt): I REALLY DID and eventually there came a point where I was literally like “well shit he’s kind of a dumb bastard what else is there”

PLEASE JUST SEND THE ANSWERS DIRECTLY TO ME I DON’T NEED THIS POSTED 8’D

I’ll post it private and send you the link!

*deep inhales* BOI. Shotaro is such an unintentional meme?? Like big crackhead vibes from him like…he’s really just a lil misfit goin around and doing as he pleases,, so much angst in this one like??? (i hope you dont take any offence to this,, i just really like his character lol) he seems pretty factious to me LOL. I like his quirk, simple and easy and his weakness is plausible, no OP oc’s here! His personality really shined through and you portrayed him well. That little paragraph you wrote summarizing him was a really solid description and would be perfect for a character sheet. The only inconsistencies were, at the top you put his age as 17 but in the “what type of student were they” you mentioned him turning 18 but otherwise he is a really solid character! I’m 20 something so I can’t crush on anyone younger than 20 but he’s really… *deep breath* …moving on. I love his personality and the fact that he’s this punk but in reality he’s an impartial dude who is chill unless something offends him or opposes him but he is also very loyal and empathetic, two qualities that I love!

Idk if you wanted questions since this is a private rating but i’ll put some either way and u can choose to fill em out or nah,, i mainly do it to help develop character and its just fun to talk abt oc’s sooo,,

What job do you see him having in the future? He’s not really here no there so i’m interested!

After he drops out of high school, he flat out does not know what to do. As he is familiar with criminal work, he stays to what he knows with his bike gang... and incidentally gets picked up by mob members. He begins as an errand boy for one organized group, but never is he ever initiated as a member. After having been exposed by a variety of assignments from various villains, by the age of 20 he’s doing all kinds of illegal work. He becomes a man for hire in the undergrounds, helping with drug trafficking, enforcement, body guarding, petty thieving, etc. You name it, he’s probably done it.

But that’s only in the dark. To keep himself balanced, he’s also a bar back for a local bar in the sketchy side of town. An honest job when he meets people and can tell them what he does for work without putting off any red flags.

A couple of reasons why he does shady work is not due to enjoyment. Actually, he wishes he never got involved as everyday feels like he’s at risk of getting killed for angering the wrong person. He doesn’t plan ahead of his life only because he could step outside one morning and breathe his last breath. For one thing, his best friend who grew up with him and is part of his gang is in rehab at this point and Kaneda is the only person who he can turn to for help -- by this, Kaneda opts to pay those hospital bills with the quick and astounding amount of money he receives from criminal work. Another reason is plain and simple: once he has done work for one organized criminal group, once his name is spread around the underground as a reliable hire, there’s no way of suddenly dropping that life without risking it all.

Is there anything in particular he does to relax?? Tv, music, hobbies, etc,

The best way he can relax is riding his motorcycle in the late hours of the night. He loves the city, and will speed through until he finds open road where he will just continue to ride until he feels calm again.

If he’s especially frustrated and the steam has built up in his lungs, he will hold it in until he finds a safe spot (preferably home) to release it all and collapse for a while. Yes, his apartment would be a sauna if he doesn’t open his windows.

Sex also helps.

Is he a pessimist or optimist? He’s very unbiased it seems so I wonder what his personal mindset is,,

More of an optimist, but in a way where he prefers to mask sorrow and tension with humor and a lighter perspective. He can’t afford to not be confident, and he tries his damndest to pass that on given the circumstances. “This will work” he would say to an idea he briefly thought of, mostly trusting his gut and hoping that if he passes on the mindset and convinces others of his confidence, then yes in some way things will work out.

But I also say that he’s not very optimistic of his own future (sorry to bring this back). He lives for the moment, but given the life he lives, he does not trust it will be a long one.

So it’s hard to explain, but he’d more say, “nothing matters in the end; do whatever the hell you want now”.

#save #cho rates #bnha oc

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