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#i grew up w a cat and only really spent like a year at home between cats so
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I miss my cat :(
I hope he's doing ok at the vet I hope he's not too stressed out to sleep and he's less dehydrated and he doesn't miss us too much
I was doing ok for a while but it feels so Bad with him not here. you know like when you were a kid and you were off at sleepaway camp or whatever and you felt fine during the day but when it came time to go to bed you got unbearably homesick and missed your parents and your own bed soooo much?? it feels like that. its not right with him not here :/
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tojismaiden · 3 years
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SNK Male Characters as Yandere's (Modern AU)
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WARNING: will contain dark themes.
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Eren the Violent
It's a known fact that Eren doesn't have the best temper in the world.
But for you, he'd try his best to be patient. Key word: Try.
When Eren saw you, you were like the light at the end of the tunnel. The rainbow after the rain. The finish line. The trophy. The angel that every devil sought after.
You were kind to almost everybody but you were also fearless when you need to be. You helped everyone that you could and that included Eren. He got into another fight? You'd patch him up. He's lashing out on someone again? You'd calm him down. Everytime he needed someone, you were there.
So who could possibly blame him for falling for you? For wanting you?
At first, it was just an innocent crush he had on you. But days passed and he found himself growing more agitated. You were just too good, too pure. Eren knew that deep down, he had to have you. He's lost so much in his life, he can't lose you too.
So when the time came that he confessed, imagine his surprised and embarrassment when you told him you were with someone else. Of course, Eren being Eren, he'd pretend it's nothing and carry on with his day.
You thought none of it of course and kept treating Eren as how you saw him as; a friend.
Eren isn't the most patient man in the world, and neither is he the most calm one.
So please don't be surprised if you find your s/o brutally murdered.
"Oh, Y/N. I'm so sorry about your partner. I heard what happened. Such a shame, really."
"It's okay, Eren... I just— I just don't understand. Who would do something like this?"
"I don't know. But whoever it was, the person may not have liked your partner at all. In fact, that person might have hated them."
Your partner's death saddened you immensely but you were thankful that Eren was with you as you grieved. However, the more you spent time with Eren, the more concerned your friends got. They had bad vibes with him.
And Eren felt they don't particularly like him.
So the next time you see a news about an unknown killer going around?
Ignore it.
Your friends falling as victims of the said killer? Ignore it.
After all, Eren did it for you. So you could be together.
Forever.
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Armin the Manipulative
There's no denying that Armin is smart. Way too fucking smart.
He would top in his classes and everyone came to him whenever they needed help with their homework.
But what exactly did Armin like about you? Simple. It's your sincerity.
Sure, he has friends and sure, his classmates would thank him whenever he helped them but with you, Armin could really feel like you learned something from him. It wasn't like the usual where the other would get the answers to their questions but obtained nothing from his explanation.
With you, you really applied what he taught you.
And Armin felt... appreciated. Like he wasn't being used to people's advantages.
So ever since then, Armin would willingly help you. Even offering to tutor you privately, free of charge! And each time you two spent time together, Armin's feelings for you grew stronger. The stronger they got, the more he got slightly too infatuated with you.
Weekly tutors turned into everyday tutors to the point where Armin would even tutor you during the weekend!
But who were you to say no? You were so thankful. If it weren't for Armin, you might have backloaded a subject or worse, repeated a grade!
You barely had time for your friends anymore but Armin assured you that it's better this way. That it's better if you prioritized your study sessions with him because your friends would just distract you.
And hey, come to think of it. Weren't they the reason you slept so late the last few weeks and almost made you miss an exam?
However, as busy as you are, you somehow found yourself in a situation where you got into a date with someone. An upperclassmen one of your friends introduced you to back then.
And when Armin found out, he was livid. But he loves you so much that he couldn't possibly bear to hurt you, no. Instead, he saved you from the inevitable torment.
"Y/N, you did this portion wrong, do it again." "Y/N! Didn't I tell you to replace this number with this? Do it again." "We're not stopping until you get it right."
Sure, Armin can be strict, but it's for your own good.
"Y/N, I apologize if I was harsh today. I just want to see you do good. And I'm so proud of you. I really believe you'll ace this test this week."
"I-It's okay, Armin. And thank you for helping me again. I promise I'll—"
"Say, Y/N, you should really stop seeing that person. I heard you were going out on a date with (Your crush's name). I suggest you don't. I heard they're going out with a friend of yours. (You friend's name) is their name, I think?"
"W-What? Where did you heard that?"
"Everyone's been talking about it. Plus, I think the reason you're doing pretty bad today is because of them. So please, Y/N, we worked really hard for you to get such good scores. Wouldn't you wanna make your senpai proud?"
You're so thankful for Armin. And you really don't want to disappoint him after all of what he's done for you.
So what better way to repay him than be obedient?
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Jean the Stalker
It's not rocket science that Jean is a handsome young man.
But when he saw you? Oh, boy. He felt as if everything in the world felt right. You were just so fucking beautiful. The first time he saw you, he just couldn't look away. It felt as if his breath got knocked out of him.
He was sure you were a God/Goddess walking on Earth. Never had he seen someone so ethereal.
But the thing is, you were just so out of his league. While everyone kept talking to you, made friends with you, flirted with you, Jean stood from afar and watched you from the distance.
Sure, he follows your social media accounts. But he couldn't help but make dummy accounts and followed your accounts as well. He didn't want to take the risk of accidentally liking a picture of yours from years back with his personal account.
He didn't want you to think of him as a weird stalker or something because Jean is definitely not a stalker, no. Just no chance of him being that.
What Jean didn't know, is that you never noticed him at all. It's not your fault though, he was usually quiet and blended in the background. If you ever did see him around, you'd forget about him soon after. A shame, really.
But don't let Jean know that.
What started as him following your social media accounts turned into him just simply following you around.
He took note of you always stopping by at this convenient store right after class to buy your favorite drink and favorite sandwich almost everyday before you go home.
It happened so frequently, him walking with his hoodie on, head hung low as he walked a few steps behind you and somehow watching you buy the exact same thing everyday.
But everytime, Jean would only stop by at the convenient store. Once you were done, he would walk home. He didn't want to follow you home. Well, it's not that he didn't want to, it's just that he doesn't have the courage yet.
However, curiosity got the best of him and at night, when you were going home late, he followed you on your way home and you swore you could feel as if someone was follow you.
"Who's there?" Nothing.
When Jean successfully followed you home, it was like something inside him flicked open. And every night, he would stop by outside your home for an hour or so and every night he would see your silhouette as you took off your clothes and changed into comfier ones, and Jean had thoughts where he'd imagine just how you looked underneath them.
With each passing day, you felt as if you were continuously being watched. Being followed.
Maybe next time, you should really learn how to close your window.
Say, do you remember where your favorite underwear went?
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Erwin the Blackmailer
You could never really ask for a better boyfriend. Erwin has it all.
At least, that's what you thought in the first few years of your relationship.
Erwin was everything you wanted and more. And he loved you so much... way too much.
And truthfully, you loved Erwin too. But there's no denying he's gotten so unbearable.
Back then, you would have done everything for Erwin. But every bit of love that you had for this man was now replaced with fear.
When Erwin began to openly express his obsession with you and his primary goal of making you all to himself, you had run away from him, far too scared of the lengths he'd go through just to satisfy this... obsession of his.
You noticed it little by little. But never had you thought it would come to this.
It started small at first. He would stop you from spending time with your friends little by little until you could no longer see them.
He would say something about them being bad influences. Going as far as to make up convincing lies that you, stupidly fell for.
After that, he stopped you from seeing your own family. Cut ties with those who are important to you. Deprived you your freedom. For he thought that you, going outside meant that you would meet someone else other than him.
And the thought of someone even merely looking at you made his blood boil.
But everytime you ran away from him, he would find you. Doesn't matter if you hid from him for weeks, months. He would end up finding you each and everytime.
At first, Erwin liked the cat and mouse game that you played. He thought it was thrilling. But then he slowly realized you were gaining this new profound strength. As if you thought that he wouldn't do anything except to find you and drag you back with him.
"I'm not going with you anymore, Erwin! I'm sick of this shit. You're all bark but no bite. Well, guess what? I'm done. And I'm not coming back!"
"Bark but no bite, eh? I wish you hadn't said that, Y/N. Say, your best friend doesn't live too far from here. You wouldn't mind if I pay them a visit, right? I'm sure they're worried about you, doll."
Ever since then, Erwin would blackmail you by threatening to hurt your loved ones if you didn't do as you were told.
This made your fear for him to go back and one time where you did disobey him despite his threats, you received a news where your bestfriend was found badly beaten in a dark alley and the perpetrator was nowhere to be found. Your bestfriend almost died if the suspect hadn't stopped.
And deep down, you knew this was Erwin's doing. It served as a warning that he wasn't afraid to kill for you so long as you stayed with him.
"I'm doing this for us, doll. Why can't you see how much I love you?"
"They don't deserve you, Y/N. They aren't willing to go for miles for you. But me, I would do anything to keep you by my side. Isn't that what you wanted? You said you didn't want to lose me, right?"
Erwin loved you so much. He wouldn't want to risk losing you ever again.
Maybe he should try going after your family this time the next time you try and run away from him.
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Levi the Possessive
Levi had lost more people than he could count. So the moment he saw you?
He didn't want to let go.
What's scary about Levi is that you don't know what he's thinking of. He would never let you know what it is that runs through his mind.
He knows, however, that you're just like him. You lost your family and you barely had any friends. And you worked as a waiter/waitresss at this local diner to earn money for your tuition fee.
Levi understands. He's been through that struggle and he could see it on your face. He took note of everything you did. And he made a habit of coming in for tea even though the tea in the diner tasted like shit. But if you made it, he would make sure to leave an extra tip.
Levi made sure that it was you who would serve him everytime. If it were someone else, he would request for you immediately.
You never really noticed Levi, in all honesty. It wasn't his fault. It's not that he's not attractive. It's just that you were too far in your head to even look or strike a conversation with him.
You were quiet and obedient and somehow Levi liked that about you. It just means you would put up a less of a fight. Means it would be easier to convince you. Means that you would always say yes.
Though Levi hoped that underneath that submissive nature to you, you would somehow have a backbone there. Being too compliant would bore him to death.
And he witnessed that when you suddenly snapped at a customer for being perverted. You were almost fired on the spot if it weren't for the fact that Levi testified for you.
That was the first time you truly noticed him.
Ever since then, you made sure that you would be the one to serve Levi everytime he came by. And you made his tea extra special, which he appreciated. It was the least you could do after he helped you out the other day.
Days passed and Levi had successfully scored a date with you. The first time he saw your apartment, he was really glad to see it clean and organized despite its dinginess and small size. It was all you could afford.
Levi suggested a stay-in date at your place, just so he could see if you were fit to live with him. Once he saw how great of a cook you are, how tidy you are and everything, he knew it was time to eventually convince you.
Sex with Levi meant that he would top you. All of the fucking time. And everytime it happened, he would always mutter the same thing to you:
"You're mine. All fucking mine."
Of course, you treated it as simple dirty talk. Men say that all the time, right?
Eventually, Levi brought up the idea of you living with him. At first, you declined. You couldn't possibly do that. But Levi having a silver-tongue meant he eventually convinced you.
Living with Levi was a walk in a park. You'd help him clean and would tell him that you would help out with the bills but you were surprised when he told you that you didn't have to worry about that.
"Just sit down and look pretty for me, brat. That's all you need to do. You don't have to worry about the money."
You didn't like that Levi didn't want you to help with the bills but you couldn't possibly retort something back. He let you live in a nice home with a nice bathroom. Who were you to have a say in things?
Days passed, and Levi somehow brought up the topic of you quitting your job.
"What? But I like—"
"Like being a waiter/waitress? Come on, Y/N. Your colleagues are absolute assholes and don't get me started on your manager. I see how he looks at you."
"I'm sure that's not true, Levi..."
"Are you doubting me?"
"W-What? N-No, I—"
"That's a good girl. You know I'd hate it if those dingy dickwads were to look at what's mine, right?"
You quit your job.
Levi knew you'd be bored inside the house so in return, he let you sign up in one of those online courses to keep you busy.
It was all coming into plan. Finally, he got the partner for life he always dreamed of. The one that would cook him dinner everytime he came home from work. Would pleasure him in bed when he's stressed. Would clean without him having to ask you.
You were so perfect.
People hadn't heard from you for months. But Levi convinced you that there's no need if people heard from you or not. Eventually, they would forget about you. You had no family, you had no friends, all you had was Levi.
And if you found out that Levi would lock you inside the house everytime he left for work, you would choose to stay silent.
And if he were to ask you to wear a chain around your ankle, who were you to say No?
After all, Levi gave you everything.
Levi was your everything.
And you were everything to Levi.
How could he ever share something so precious to the world?
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blu-joons · 3 years
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DATING GOT7 HEADCANON A⇴Z ⇴ Im Jaebum
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A ⇴ AFFECTION
His affection always came from a place of protection, he’d spent years looking after the boys, and that reflected in your relationship too. He’d always make you feel incredibly safe whenever he was affectionate with you, which you loved.
B ⇴ BEFORE DATING
You’d always been close friends since you met years ago, but that was all you thought you’d ever be. Jaebum knew he felt more for you, but he was always too scared to tell you how he felt. As his contract came to an end, he confided in Jinyoung the most about his feelings and where he should go from there to maybe see if you’d want to date him too.
C ⇴ CONFESSION
He sat you down one night to tell you about what was going on with his contract and the changes it meant for his life. When he casually told you what it meant he could start dating more comfortably you began to worry that you’d lose your friend, but when he continued to tell you that it meant he could ask you out on a date comfortably, you were more than surprised. The silence that came from you worried Jaebum greatly, but you quickly reassured him, and accepted.
D ⇴ DATES
The two of you would often end up having dates at his studio because he was so busy. You absolutely loved your studio dates together, shutting out the rest of the world. You’d show up in the early evening with takeout and a bag filled with blankets and cushions for you to relax underneath. You’d both sit on the floor of the studio, using his laptop to watch something whilst you ate. Once his break was over, Jaebum would usually make you comfortable on the sofa so you could sleep, or he’d allow you to sit in his lap as he worked, giving him the motivation that he needed to be able to finish quickly for the night.
E ⇴ EXPERIENCE
There had been a few brief relationships he’d had in school, but since debut, you were the first proper relationship he’d had. He knew under contract he couldn’t balance work and a relationship, but now with a little more freedom it was definitely something he wanted to try. He was still the leader of GOT7 though, regardless, and that was something he often took into consideration. There was often a pressure on his shoulders to make sure as the leader he made his relationship work, but as he’d often confided in you before about his feelings on dating and love, you knew exactly how to help him.
F ⇴ FIGHTING
The two of you wouldn’t argue often per se, if Jaebum was angry you’d usually be able to tell by the expression on his face before letting things kick off. Sometimes he forgot to switch off his leader mode when he was around you, and he’d struggle to relax and not worry. He hated arguing with you though, if it ever did happen, he’d take some time away, usually by going to his studio, and then come back to you when he felt a lot calmer. He was so often the mediator during conflict that he was confident he’d know exactly how to rectify the situation, the two of you would talk a lot about your feelings before moving past things.
G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY
You knew he came from a very close family, which made you quite apprehensive about becoming a part of it. JB had told his mother plenty about you before the first time you met which meant there was plenty of expectation on your shoulders. Luckily for you, she quickly loved you, seeing her only son happy was all that she ever wanted.
H ⇴ HOME
Having already been friends before your relationship, you’d spent a lot of time at Jaebum’s apartment, and of course, that meant you’d bonded with the cats. He didn’t want to move you in straight away when you started dating as he was nervous that it would be overwhelming, but after a couple of months he’d definitely start dropping hints that if you were comfortable, then maybe it was a step the two of you could take.
I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”
The first ‘I love you,’ was uttered by Jaebum, well, it was sung. He came up to you one night at the end of a day in the studio to let you know that he’d written a song. You’d listened closely to every word, but as the song came to an end and the three words were uttered, you thought it was a joke. But when Jaebum said it again, you knew that it was true.
J ⇴ JEALOUSY
If he was jealous, that would be when the famous chin would appear. You’d know straight away that the second you saw his chin stick out that he wasn’t happy about something. He’d try and play it cool and convince you that he wasn’t jealous, but when your hand tapped at the tip of his chin, he’d know the game was up. You were always quick to assure him, and you’d often spend the rest of the night by his side, so he knew not to worry, but when you left, you’d be sure to tease him about how obvious his feelings were.
K ⇴ KIDS
He’d never really made his mind up about kids, he loved being a father of cats for now. But as your relationship grew and became more serious, he began to wonder about starting a family and how his future would like. There was still a lot that he wanted to achieve before becoming a father, but it was something that as days went by, he’d see clearer and clearer in his future. He’d always get nervous talking about it around you, but you could tell exactly how he felt.
L ⇴ LAUGHTER
At times he was quite serious, and laughter was difficult to draw out of him, but that made the moments that he did laugh a lot more precious. He was much happier whenever he was able to make you laugh, he’d surprise you in the day with photos and filters that he knew would have you in stitches at work. He was a hard nut to crack, but when you eventually found the way to make him laugh, you’d never stop. Every day you’d work hard to make him laugh until he couldn’t laugh anymore, and make sure that he relaxed after the end of his day.
M ⇴ MISSING
He never imagined himself missing you as much as he did when he went on tour for the first time since you started dating. He’d gotten used to missing you as a friend, he had plenty of friends that he missed, but when he had the emotional connection with you, it introduced a whole new feeling to him. He’d try and be strong for the sake of the rest of the members if they were with him, but as soon as he closed the hotel door for the night, he’d be straight on the phone with you, often forgetting that it wasn’t the same time for you as it was for him. Regardless, you’d pick up, just so that you could check on him too.
N ⇴ NICKNAMES
You tended to just call him, ‘jae,’ it was what you called him before dating, and a habit you couldn’t break. It was the same for him too, he’d often call you ‘buddy,’ or something, which became a recurring joke for you both.
O ⇴ OBSESSION
He was obsessed with your hair, as much as he hated that you had better hair then him, he loved to play with it whenever he was focussing or trying to fall asleep.
P ⇴ PDA
Jaebum wasn’t huge on PDA, again, his PDA came from a protective place, he’d like to keep you close to him, and if he felt like he needed to keep you closer, he’d keep you in front of him with both of his arms wrapped around your waist. He’d judge a situation closely before deciding how affectionate he needed to be with you.
Q ⇴ QUESTIONS
Whenever he was working on a piece of music, he would often ask for your opinion it. Your studio dates were great for him to be able to show you what he was working on and get your opinion on all of it.
R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS
In his studio, he had several photos that he kept hold of that he’d piece together to try and come up with as a storyboard for song writing. All of his photos were of scenery or nature, except for two that were of you. Whenever he felt that love was appropriate in a song, he’d place the picture of you in his timeline. No one else ever saw them photos when they visited the studio, they were hidden away for only him to see.
S ⇴ SEX
Intimate moments were definitely when Jaebum would be at his softest. He was always an absolute gentleman and took priority of your needs over his own. He would love to play with your hair, whilst you often would play with his too, making sure the two of you were very close to each other. He was very loving and affectionate towards you, it was a bit of a stress relief for him too, he’d always feel a lot happier at the end.
T ⇴ TEXTS
He forgot sometimes that he wasn’t a leader of you too, he’d often text you when he knew you had appointments or something to make sure you showed up. You’d often remind him you didn’t need him to remind you, but it was a habit of his.
U ⇴ UNIVERSE
In a world where he often felt misunderstood or pushed aside, around you, he really felt like he could be himself. There was nowhere that made him as comfortable as being by your side, wherever the two of you were.
V ⇴ VACATION
He loved to adventure with you whenever the two of you got the time to go away. He’d use the time as inspiration, sourcing plenty of things that he could use in the studio when he got back. He’d also take plenty of photos too, so when the two of you got back home you could spend a few nights scrapbooking all the photos and memories that you’d made to be able to look back over fondly one day.
W ⇴ WHINING
If something didn’t feel right, he’d definitely sigh and whine, he’d be desperate for you to go over and help him try and put things right.
X ⇴ XXXXX
Jaebum was much more of a cuddler than a kisser, he’d save his kisses for when he felt they were needed. Most of that was spent when you were falling asleep or if you’d had a bad day, he’d kiss against your cheeks to make sure that all of your tears disappeared. Being less frequent, you made sure to savour each one, and repay the gesture whenever he needed a bit of affection from you too.
Y ⇴ YOU
You were the one who he saw forever with, he didn’t need anyone else but you.
Z ⇴ ZZZ
He always made sure to keep the cats off the bed at night so that he could dedicate his time to you, his arms would always be around you or tangled in your hair, he made sure to know exactly what you wanted from him to help you fall asleep.
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Masterlist
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huebris808 · 3 years
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Dr. Hofnarr’s Horrible, No-Good, Very Weird 15 Years Of Being Dead.
a tribute to fanon interpretations/character study(?) that was going to be a bonus chapter in a post-canon/au comedy fic im working on! might come back to expand on this when i do start posting it (or if mpn gives him more background story lore that i’ll have to work with aoAHGHOAUGH)
happy madness day! :o)
“Where should I begin… Perhaps at the very beginning? OH! Christoff and I first met years before our Nexus days! Back in our freshman years of college, to be precise! You know, I was actually a theater major before switching to- ... A-Aah, too far back. Much too far... Let’s start from the point where the notes I supplied to you ended then, shall we? After our dissension...”
.. “Good luck, old friend...” ..
The first years on the run from Nexus was stressful to say the least. Hofnarr and Christoff had split up to better their chances of survival. He knew the process would be grueling, having talked to Christoff almost every night about it to calm his nerves. While he played calm for the cameras, Hofnarr truly wished he could have held him close one last time. No communications. No physical contact. Day after day, month after month, nothing. He would be separated from his husband for a very long time…
It wasn’t all bad after a while. He had a comfortable new apartment, went under a new alias, and his questionable new job paid him enough to buy food. His apartment even had cable! He could watch marathons of Slaughter Time whenever he got home! In hindsight, he wondered if that had an effect on his mental state at the time...
Hofnarr had taken the last of his S3LF regulator with him, having shipped them out to an undisclosed location prior to dissension. Dissonance exposure did a number on him and his research team, leaving them to track their “normality” through daily blood tests and injections. While they met their fates early on, Hofnarr had gotten lucky. That is, until the doses began to run out.
Stressful as it was, he knew what he had to do. Hofnarr rushed back to what remained of the labs, knowing it had been abandoned by now. It was ironic, he and Christoff’s work, the work that was turned against them, was the one thing keeping him alive. For days, he worked to make more doses from the materials he brought with him. But there was only so much he could do with limited supplies… Hofnarr made many attempts to prolong the inevitable, lowering his dosage amount, injecting it weekly rather than daily, but he eventually ran dry. 
Refusing to turn to darker alternatives, he felt the only thing he could do at this point is record his final findings through video logs.
“It was… interesting revisiting the footage, to put it nicely. Christoff had actually kept the video files on a drive after he originally found all my things in the lab! I barely remembered what happened back then, so I rewatched them out of curiosity.”
On the first night, Hofnarr recorded a message for Christoff. One filled with sorrow, but also with gratitude. For the time that they spent together. How special he made him feel. All the memories they made together...
On the next, he recorded a log detailing his findings during Project Nexus. The effects of dissonance, the Other Place, what it did to him and his colleagues, everything and anything he could.
The next, he reported on the progression of his symptoms. Fever, brain fog, insomnia, joint pain. He felt like his organs were melting, his skin bursting at the seams.
The next night he saw something and remembered. Scars. The scars on his head. That week he was in the staff hospital. He thought it was a dream but the scars were there. Phobos. Director Phobos brought him somewhere that week. He knew he felt off when he woke up in the office that night. He knew something was off when Christoff asked him where he was. He thought he passed out from over-working. That bastard Phobos. Nausea was replaced with rage as he began to scream, his throat becoming raw. What did he put in him? What the hell did he put inside him!?
On the last recorded log, he was face-down on the ground. Groaning as his body occasionally convulsed. Until the video feed eventually cut off.
His body would lay there dormant, dead, for fifteen years. 
But to Hofnarr, he felt like he was dreaming.
.. “LET’S GIVE IT UP FOR OUR NEXT CONTESTANT!” ..
“Huh?” The doctor sat up and looked around, the area around him pitch black. Wasn’t he sleeping just a moment ago? He got up and took a step forward in the seemingly endless void. “H-Hello? Who’s out there?”
“AWW, DON’T BE SHY NOW! ESTEEMED AUDIENCE, A BIG ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR OUR GUEST; THE UNFORTUNATE DOCTOR HOFNARR!”
A light shined down on him from above. A crowd seemingly began to cheer all around him. He was in the center of what looked like a talk show set. Hofnarr awkwardly scratched the corner of his face. “‘Unfortunate’? W-What do you mean? W-Who are you?”
“FIGHT FIRST, ASK QUESTIONS LATER!” The voice above him called out again. “AFTER ALL, IT’S…!” Hofnarr drowned out the noise while trying to think. It sounded familiar. Like it came from…
Hofnarr’s thoughts were cut short. He looked down at his torso. Terror set in as he recognized an entire stop sign had been lodged through his chest.
“DON’T GET COLD FEET NOW! THE SHOW’S ONLY JUST BEGUN!” 
The words echoed in Hofnarr’s mind as he frantically tried to pull it out, his vision growing muddled, his hands slipping with blood until…
He blinked.
No stage. No sound. No pain.
Nothing around except for a single white door in front of him.
He stood up again, cautiously reaching for the doorknob.
When he entered he seemed to be in a vintage styled home. It was a kitchen with checkerboard flooring, a table with two chairs, and cheerful music playing through a small radio. It smelled of pastry and medical equipment. Suddenly, there was a knock coming from the door. A familiar voice called from behind it.
“I’m home, dear.” “J-Jeb?!”
Hofnarr rushed towards the front door. Christoff wasn’t trapped here too, was he? “Jeb! W-where are we!? What is this place? What happened to-”
As he opened the door, the clapping returned.
His husband was there, briefcase in hand, his face replaced with a black hole dripping with an unknown inky substance.
He slowly began to back away as “Jeb” moved closer.
The applause, the laughter, was deafening.
Before he could question or run away, Hofnarr was hit by something. His vision blurred, but refocused to be face-to-face with something. It seemed to be a shadow of himself. He tried to run again, but was pinned down by his doppelganger. The clone raised a clawed hand above him and then...
Like waking from a nightmare, Hofnarr quickly sat up once again. He gasped for air, dripping with cold sweat.
Was this really happening? Was it finally over? Was he free?
And then the spotlight focused on him again.
“It… got very surreal. Despite fight after fight, death after painful death... I would suddenly be somewhere else! There was a gameshow, our old apartment, a cat cafe, a... strip club of sorts, a tea room filled with these small armless doodles I used to draw on my research notes trying to offer me snacks… One time there was a sort of singing contest, but I won’t bore you with the details of that one. But when I wasn’t in those places, I felt like I was fighting for my life. It felt like an eternity! And the strangest part of it all? It… it became addicting.”
At first, he felt as if Hofnarr used all of his energy, physical and emotional, to fight back. It reminded him too much of his escape from Nexus. But as time went on, he focused less on escaping and more on surviving. The more he fought, the more he began to lose himself. He was anticipating what sudden whiplash of combat would be thrown at him next. He chuckled at the thought of what excitement would be heading his way. He wanted more. The fights became too slow. Too predictable. Too boring. He began toying with whatever was thrown at him. Turning his shadowy hunters into the hunted. Why let his audience watch the same old fights all the time?
Suddenly, the fighting stopped.
Why? 
He was having fun, wasn’t he? He grew impatient.
“WHAT’S THE HOLD UP!” He yelled into the void, seething with anger. “AREN’T WE SUPPOSED TO BE FIGHTING? ISN’T THAT WHAT I’M HERE FOR?!”
He stomped his foot down, lodging something out of the ground.
The stop sign.
He looked over it curiously. How familiar…
Grabbing hold of it, quick flashes of memories appeared to him.
Nexus, the Science Tower, Phobos, the Other Place… 
A man with long hair standing next to...
Hofnarr… 
Who was that? Was that him?
No…
Only Tricky remained.
Footsteps echoed throughout the halls of the abandoned lab. Heels quickly clicking, cautiously stopping every so often. A lone Nexus Core agent entered through one of the doors.
Perfect timing.
“HAY! YOU THERE!!” A voice stuttered and glitched out, reverberating through the emptiness of the lab. The quickly soldier whipped their head around. “YEAH! YOU, STUPID. PLAY WITH ME!!”
“Who’s there?” The agent pointed their magnum towards the noise. “Show yourself!”
Gladly. The cackling figure emerged from the shadows, posing with a peace-sign, causing the agent to recoil. He grinned, slowly moving towards the cowering goon on the ground. They wouldn’t stand a chance.
“Who are you!?”
They couldn’t kill him.
“FIGHT FIRST. ASK QUESTIONS LATER! AFTER ALL…” 
CAN’T KILL CLOWN.
“IT’S MURDER TIME!”
..
“My body had been there, regenerating and repeating the enmeshment process for years. And by the time I woke up, I was a completely different person. I became a creature of unfiltered impulse… A personification of chaos itself.”
The room grew silent before Hofnarr spoke up again.
“I-Is it horrible to say it was… kind of cool?” He said with a nervous chuckle, twiddling his fingers.
2BDamned was quiet for a moment. They recalled the many times they had to stitch their comrades back together due to Clown Moments. They placed their head in their palms and let out a sigh.
“... You have the right to your own opinion.”
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BONUS: songs i was listening to on loop while working on this instead of doing my damned writing assignment. Enjoy
lady gaga ft. dorian electra - replay
vestik - tricky's vengeance ft. monocronic
34 notes · View notes
carewyncromwell · 3 years
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[HPHM] Carewyn Cromwell and Orion Amari Cinderella AU Moodboard
x~x~x~x
Once upon a time, there were two kingdoms at war -- the land of Royaume with rolling valleys and mountain ranges, and the land of Florence by the southeastern sea. Their conflict had started fifty years ago, rooted in a territory dispute that blew up in an assassination and full-scale war. Since then, the royal family of Royaume, including the young Prince Henri, was kept under very tight house-arrest. It also resulted in many families gaining status and power in the two nation’s governments through investing in war.
One of those such families in the nation of Royaume were the Cromwells, led by the cold and ruthless Lord Charles Cromwell. The Cromwells put in a lot of their own money investing in the War, and those investments only came back to them tenfold, making them incredibly wealthy and very well-regarded among Royaume’s royal court. The King of Royaume needed all of the financial assistance he could get -- especially since he’d spent a lot of money to hire a mercenary from an outside country to assassinate the Crown Prince of Florence in an attempt to end the War, only for the War to go on unabated when the King of Florence coughed up a replacement heir. And as luxurious as the Royaumanian palace and many of its country estates looked, a lot of the lower classes weren’t getting their fair share, around paying for the soldiers at war. There were rumors that Florence was better-off, since they simply used black magic to make money and food appear out of fat air, but that was widely considered to be unfounded rumors. Royaumanians were very distrustful of magic and those who practiced it, and Florence’s harboring of witches and wizards didn’t do much to endear the common man to their enemy country.
This was why, one day at the local market in Royaume’s capital, there was a lot of fuss made when one of the street vendors -- an old miser named Argus Filch --  suspected a strange man of buying ingredients for a potion.
“I’m not stupid, boy,” said Mr. Filch, looking over the stranger with suspicion. “You think those things you’ve been picking up like a crow look like anything other than some kind of black magic recipe?”
The stranger in question -- a young, tanned, black-eyed man with a beard and slightly-too-long dark hair -- responded with remarkable calm.
“I assure you, sir, black magic is certainly not my intention,” he said quietly.
“Oh yeah?” challenged Mr. Filch. “What’s all this for, then?”
“A friend,” the young man answered.
“A friend, eh? Some nasty old witch in the forest, I’m sure -- thinking of mixing up some poison potion -- ”
“Is there a problem here?”
Both men looked up, very startled.
A young lady astride a white horse had just come to a stop beside them. She was dressed in a light yellow gown with green sleeves and her ginger hair was done up in netting decked with pearls. It was a peculiar sight, to see so well-dressed a woman riding her own horse through the market rather than riding in a carriage, even if she did ride side-saddle.
The ginger-haired lady glanced at the dark-haired stranger out the side of her almond-shaped blue eye. Although her face was as stoic as a marble statue’s, there was something about her gaze that caught his attention. It was discerning, and yet...not cold. Not condescending.
The lady then turned to Mr. Filch.
“Good sir,” she said, “why do you harangue my escort?”
The dark-haired stranger blinked, but otherwise kept the surprise from his face. Mr. Filch himself blinked several times in rapid succession.
“Y-your escort?” he sputtered. “Then...you’re who he was shopping for?”
“That I am,” said the lady very coolly. “Is there a problem with my purchases?”
“W-well, yes, in fact!” Mr. Filch stammered, his suspicion returning even though he was clearly intimidated. “What could a fine lady such as yourself want with this sort of...pagan nonsense?”
The lady raised her eyebrows dryly. “‘Pagan nonsense?’”
“Yes!” said Mr. Filch, his voice becoming a bit louder in his defensiveness. “Rosemary, henbane -- ”
“I require rosemary for the kitchen staff, to season our meals,” said the lady at once. “And henbane makes for pleasant incense -- we use it to stifle the smell of cigar smoke, after large parties.”
Filch looked a bit abashed.
“...And what about the absinthe? That stuff’s pretty strong...and the catswort...”
“My uncle brews drinks with absinthe, as a palette cleanser after large meals....and surely you yourself know of how much house cats enjoy catswort? I believe I see cat fur on your coat.”
“Well, yes, but...but what about the Mandrakes?” challenged Filch. “That is pretty occult, if I’ve ever -- ”
“The Mandragora plant has some of the prettiest flowers I’ve ever seen,” the lady said, and her blue eyes grew a little narrower. “Now have I satisfactorily nullified your concerns? I’m afraid I have an urgent appointment at the palace, and I know my grandfather Lord Cromwell would be very displeased if I was late for it because someone suspected his family of aligning themselves with witchcraft.”
Mr. Filch suddenly went very, very white. “L-Lord Cromwell!? Y-you’re related to -- ?!”
He abruptly prostrated himself before her. “My lady!”
The display actually seemed to make the young Lady Cromwell look incredibly uncomfortable -- as if she hadn’t intended for the threat to make the vendor react with quite so much anxiety.
“Rise, please,” she said, and her voice seemed oddly remorseful. “That’s not necessary. Just be on your way and leave this man be, please.”
“Yes, my lady!” said Mr. Filch very quickly, looking no less anxious. “O-of course, my lady...”
With that, he slunk away, back down the street toward his stall.
Lady Cromwell looked down at the dark-haired stranger again. His sparkling black eyes had not left her face for almost the entire exchange and were very difficult to read.
“Have you bought everything you need?” she asked under her breath.
The stranger inclined his head in a single nod. “Yes.”
Lady Cromwell nodded in return, a very small smile touching the corners of her red lips. “Good. Walk beside my horse for a block or so. I’ll escort you out of the market, so you can head home.”
She flicked the reins and started her horse off at a leisurely trot. The dark-haired man hesitated briefly, before adjusting the basket under his arm so that the handle hung on his shoulder and following her.
“That was some very clever thinking on your part,” he said quietly.
Lady Cromwell raised her eyebrows.
“You seem surprised,” she said dryly. “Have you never encountered a clever woman before?”
“On the contrary,” the man replied, “I’m fortunate to count several as my friends. But I must confess, I did not expect such kindness from someone in your position.”
“And pray, what ‘position’ is that?”
The man inclined his head respectfully. “A lady of the Cromwell estate, of course. After all, as you yourself said...your grandfather most assuredly would be offended if someone associated him and his family with witchcraft.”
Lady Cromwell shot a quick glance at him out the side of her eye. Then she faced forward again.
“...I suppose I...have never been that much like the rest of my family,” she said softly. “Excluding my brother.”
“The young Lord Tristan Cromwell?” asked the man.
“No -- Jacob Cromwell,” she replied. “He’s at the war front.”
The man’s dark eyes flickered with a strange, sad glint.
“I see...”
The lady brought her horse to a stop and faced the man more fully.
“Well then, this is where I leave you. I’m sorry if it requires more of a walk for you to return home, but I must be off to the castle -- I’m already running behind.”
“It’s no problem at all,” said the dark-haired stranger. “It truly is not so far of a walk for me.”
Lady Cromwell nodded politely. “Very well. Farewell, then, Mr...?”
“With respect, my lady,” said the man with a slight wry smile, “perhaps it’s best that we not share our identities.”
The red-haired lady cocked her eyebrows sardonically. “Seems rather rude of you, considering you already know mine.”
“Ah, but I don’t, truly,” said the stranger, and his black eyes sparked with something almost mischievous. “I know your family name, yes, but that’s not who you are, is it? And truthfully even who you are now isn’t really that important. I’d say who you wish to be is far more telling than who you are at the present moment.”
Lady Cromwell raised an eyebrow, intrigued a bit despite herself. “Really? And who do you wish to be, sir?”
His black eyes twinkled a bit more, making them resemble two miniature night skies with hundreds of tiny pinprick stars.
“...A free man.”
Lady Cromwell’s eyes actually softened a bit, almost sympathetically.
“...Well, I hope you achieve that dream, Mr. Freeman,” she said in an unusually kind voice.
She flicked the reins of her horse.
“Farewell!” she called behind her.
Despite himself, the dark-haired stranger felt his face breaking into a broad smile as he watched her gallop away.
“Farewell,” he murmured, “Lady Cromwell.”
Not long after she was out of sight, a familiar black carriage appeared around a corner, and the door cracked open so that one could enter it. With an airy sigh, the dark-haired man climbed into the carriage and shut the door behind him, before the carriage rode off.
Not long after, the woman who’d been called “Lady Cromwell” arrived at the Royaumanian palace. She received a lot of attention from the castle staff for her mother’s old dress and formal hair and make-up -- and when she approached the thrones of the King and Queen, she startled everyone with her greeting.
“Your Majesties,” she said lowly, her blue eyes downcast to the floor to obscure the faint nerves she felt, “my name is Carewyn. Lord Cromwell sent me, so that I may serve his Highness, the Prince.”
The King looked very startled. “Lord Cromwell? Then...”
His face suddenly burst into an incredulous smile.
“...Why then, you’re the new maidservant! Lord Cromwell’s serving girl! My, but you have cleaned up -- I never would have guessed!”
“Clearly Lord Cromwell treats his servants well, if even they look the part of a courtier,” said the Queen, and she couldn’t help but giggle behind her hand.
Carewyn successfully resisted the urge to scoff. Charles most certainly had not told her to come dressed in her mother’s old dress or doll herself up quite this much -- he wanted Carewyn to be eyes and ears for their family, not to draw attention away from her cousins vying for the Prince’s hand. But Carewyn had her own reasons for wanting to make a good first impression.
“Come nearer to me, child,” said the Queen.
Carewyn obeyed politely. She still had some trouble meeting the King and Queen’s eyes, but she kept her composure as best she could.
“Turn for me.”
Faintly confused, Carewyn nonetheless did so. The Queen looked very pleased.
“Oh, she’s just like a little china doll!” she said through a simpering smile. “Prince Henri is going to have such fun with her, wouldn’t you say, dear?”
“Yes, yes, indeed,” said the King with a chortle. “I don’t know if you’re aware, Carewyn, but my son has quite a knack for -- ”
“Father!”
Carewyn couldn’t stop herself from turning around in surprise as the man who had to be Prince Henri strode up the hall.
He certainly was dressed the part, that was for certain. He wore a doublet made of gold-trimmed purple velvet complete with a brocaded cape and a matching hat and breeches with white stockings and gold-buckled black shoes.
“Henri, how good of you to join us,” said the Queen brightly. “Carewyn -- this is Henri Lancelot-Yves Andre -- Crown Prince of Royaume.”
Carewyn curtsied politely. “It’s an honor, your Highness.”
The dark-skinned prince Henri gave a bright white grin. “Ah, then you’re the new maidservant! I think I can see why you were sent over -- your fashion is on point, despite your dress being of an older style...”
He offered a hand politely to her.
“Come -- we must get you fitted appropriately!”
With faint hesitance, Carewyn rested her hand on top of the prince’s and followed him out.
“Fitted, Your Highness?” she asked. “I thought I merely would receive a uniform, once I arrived.”
“Oh, you will,” said the Prince brightly, “but no member of the castle staff is going to wear a uniform that doesn’t fit her properly -- I’ll need to tailor it. And please...call me Andre.”
Meanwhile, the dark-haired stranger called “Freeman” was getting an earful from the man in the carriage.
“Orion, you can’t keep running off every time you’re able to sidestep your attendants,” said the blond-haired man in the carriage. His arms were crossed, and although his expression was grave, it wasn’t particularly strict or reproachful. “There’s a lot of military strategy to discuss.”
“I learn a lot more about our enemy here on the streets than I ever could in a tower, McNully,” said Orion serenely. Once he’d finished organizing his basket of herbs, he lay it down on the seat across from him. “Don’t let me forget to deliver that to Miss Haywood, for the wounded.”
“You could stand to learn about your enemy in both places,” said McNully, “and you could also stand to think a bit more critically before disguising yourself and wandering across the border. Do you know what the Royaumanians would do, if they caught you?”
Orion considered this. “Hmm...perhaps that would make a good strategy. Cleopatra herself apparently smuggled herself inside a rug, so as to parley with Julius Caesar -- ”
“Yes, but Cleopatra’s older half-brother hadn’t been killed on Caesar’s orders beforehand,” McNully cut him off a bit more forcefully.
He sighed heavily.
“Orion...I understand you never asked for any of this. I mean, of all the people I could’ve seen becoming heir to the throne of Florence, I’d have said you only had a 3% chance of being picked.”
“Much obliged,” said Orion with a rather placid smile.
His face then grew a bit more serious.
“Even so,” he said quietly, “it’s my responsibility. And so is ending this war, preferably in such a way that balance is restored.”
“Kind of hard to do, when Royaume seem more interested in killing off royal family members than negotiating,” said McNully. “At this rate, I’d say the odds are slim they’ll accept peace over all-out surrender -- 10%, tops.
Orion shook his head. “Its leaders, maybe, but not its people. There is goodness among them. Patience, tenacity, loyalty, and fire. A desire for peace and stability, in place of war and loss.”
“And an irrational hatred of us, bred out of a fear of everyone and anyone even slightly associated with magic,” McNully pointed out.
“Not all of them feel that way.”
“A good 98% do.”
Orion glanced out the window at the large wall that marked the border of Royaume and Florence. Positioned in the distance were a battalion of Royaumanian soldiers shooting their guns and yelling -- no doubt they were being distracted just long enough for their carriage to slip through unnoticed.
“However slim the number,” said Orion quietly, “there are those here who don’t fear the unknown and mysterious -- whose kindness gives them courage...”
The face of the ginger-haired lady he’d met in the market rippled over the Florentine Prince’s mind again, and his lips curled up in a small smile.
“That’s something we can count as a blessing and use to our advantage.” 
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peaches-writes · 4 years
Text
according to flora
description: growing up with jeongin according to the different shrubs and flowers around you member: jeongin / i.n. genre: fluff, childhood best friends to lovers au, neighbor au, slice of life, cottagecore elements (this is debatable) word count: 5.7k warning: mention of animal death (im so sorry) notes: some of these plants probably don’t grow in korea but whatever i need them for the plot + ending happens a year before ‘before one a.m.’ + i’m not confident w this pls go easy on me
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makahiya ~ shy plant
When Yang Jeongin first moved into the neighbourhood when you were five, he and his brother let out a surprised gasp after stepping on their lawn. You were making flower crowns and trying to do ‘magic’ next door with your cat, immediately looking up at them from their loud reactions to the grass, the gears in your head concluding that they must have stepped on the shy plants that grew everywhere. 
“Do you think it’ll open again?” You overheard Jeongin’s brother ask curiously that day, squatting down on the grass.
Jeongin naturally followed, poking on the folded and now red leaves of the unusual plant. “It doesn’t seem to want to.” He muses sadly.
You took that as your cue to approach them, walking the small distance around the fence and poking Jeongin’s shoulder. He looks up at you with a small jump and wide eyes, almost falling on his butt and toppling over his brother next to him.
“Hello! You must be our neighbor!” His younger brother greeted instead for the two of them, waving politely at you with a small tree branch he found nearby. You waved back politely before extending the same hand to introduce yourself properly.
“The shy plant won’t open if you keep touching it.” You pointed out after the younger brother’s introduction, answering their query. “Just wait a little bit.”
“Shy plant?” Jeongin repeated, looking back down on the plant. At that, the leaves slowly began opening up again, returning to its vibrant green color as it stretches. “Wow!” He exclaims, touching it again and causing it to wrinkle back into a shy close but this time much clearer in front of him and his brother. “Cool!”
You smile in equal amazement, taking a step back and motioning over to your dividing fence and the tree across the Yang house’s lawn. “There’s more of them around your lawn, just look for the sharp leaves and maybe the pink flower that goes along with some of them since a lot of weeds and grass growing around here look like them too.”
His younger brother only nodded, muttering a quick thank you for tipping them off before running across the lawn, while Jeongin awkwardly stood up and extended his hand out for you to shake after realizing that he hasn’t introduced himself, “I’m Jeongin, by the way—we’re moving in today.”
“Y/N,” You shook his hand shyly, the unfamiliar feeling of holding someone else’s hand sending tingles down your spine. “I live next door.”
“Will you...” He trailed off, awkwardly placing his hand back to his side and darting his eyes everywhere but you. “Will you help us look for them?”
You nodded after a beat or silence, shrugging as nonchalantly as possible. “Sure.”
When Mr. Yang expressed interest to maintain the grass on their lawn and backyard some time later, Jeongin made sure that his father didn’t cut any of the shy plants.
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dwarf santan ~ jungle geranium
Since that day, Jeongin has naturally stuck by your side, helping you 'make potions’ on your front porch by picking out the flowers for you when unfamiliar bugs and pests guard them and climbing up the trees in your lawns and backyards for when you need leaves. No one from the nearest four blocks are around your age and Jeongin never really thought of himself as the type of kid to walk all the way to the other side of the neighbourhood just to maintain a friendship with a friend. 
Besides, he’s always thought that your company was enjoyable and enough. 
“What are you doing?” He asked you one morning as he approached you, seated in the middle of your backyard garden. It’s the day before his seventh birthday and he’s spent the entire week pretending to not notice how you’ve been crushing and mixing flower petals less in favor of studying the stems of your garden flowers. “What flower’s that?” 
You quickly hid the pink jungle geraniums in your back, scrambling to stand up when Jeongin stops right in front of you. “N-Nothing!” You stammered out a reply as you tried to stop yourself from gripping the small flowers too tightly and accidentally crushing them in nervousness. “It’s just...”
When you trailed off, trying to come up with another excuse for the 7th day in the row, Jeongin only sighed, scratching the nape of his neck. “You’ve been acting weird this whole week.” He pointed out to you bluntly, a small pout on his lips. “I don’t want to assume that it’s for my birthday but if it is, you can just show it to me now—it’s tomorrow anyway.” 
A beat of silence passes. When you didn’t speak, he quietly added, “I don’t like it when you act weird...”
And with that, you slowly took out the crown of jungle geraniums from behind your back, “I’ve been trying to make you this but I’m really bad at connecting the flowers.” You then held it in front of him, delicately placing them in his hands when he reached out for them. 
He held it up to his eye-level, as if inspecting it, before looking back at you, “Can you put it on for me?” He then took a tentative step towards you, placing the crown back in your hands with a slight shake in his hand. 
And equally as shaky with your hands, you tiptoed and placed it on top of his head, catching his smile when your heels reach the grass beneath your feet once again. “How do I look?” He asks, tilting his head from side to side that almost caused the crown to fall of his head. 
“Pretty.” You answered matter-of-factly, turning his close-lipped smile into a full grin when you fixed the crown again with more confidence and a chuckle. “Happy birthday.”
“T-thank you!” He blushes, his cheeks matching the pink of the flowers. “Can you...can you teach me how to make this?” 
He especially left out the part that he wants to make one for you, too shy at the time to say it out loud.  
“Yeah—yeah, just help me pick out the ones you like.” You replied before leading him by the hand to the very back of your garden where the shrubs are. 
You then spent the rest of the afternoon teaching him how to make crowns and bracelets as well as convincing him that drinking the sap on the geraniums is okay. 
“It’s very sweet,” You told him as you suck on one while you work. “Some are bitter but it’s almost always sweet.” 
Jeongin went home with a whole stem of geraniums after, showing it and his flower crown proudly to his brothers. 
On your birthday that followed after this, you found a bracelet of jungle geraniums conveniently left on the pillar of your front porch. You still have this bracelet, pressed between the pages of your favorite book in a circle. 
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rose
You and Mrs. Yang encouraged Jeongin to join his first school singing competition in the 3rd grade because if there’s something you and your best friend’s mom have in common, it’s your endless admiration for his singing skills. Mrs. Yang always encouraged her son to sing and perform during parties while you grew up to your best friend singing to you and the plants that you grew. 
So, for an entire month leading up to the talent show, you spent all your weekends in Jeongin’s room, clumsily playing the piano with him as he practiced trot songs. 
And, on the day before the competition, Jeongin’s mom sneaked you out of your practice sessions so you can help her buy his son a congratulatory bouquet at the supermarket. 
“So, Y/N, roses or tulips?” Mrs. Yang asked you as you stood in front of the shelves of plastic bouquet wrappings and vibrant flower arrangements. 
“Oh, um...” You examined the flowers closely, tiptoeing around the sides. You’ve always known that tulips and roses are traditionally given to say congratulations after competitions but something about the baby’s breath caught your eye. In a way, it seemed more fitting for your best friend. “Mrs. Yang, can we get the bouquet full of baby’s breaths?” 
But Mrs. Yang chuckled in response, albeit without any malice, “Sweetheart, we need to get our Jeongin a big bouquet, especially if he wins.” She then took a big bouquet of roses and another of tulips in the same size, both decorated with baby’s breaths, and held them in front of you. “but, we can buy a bouquet with baby’s breath on it, just not as the main flower in the arrangement.” 
You ended up nodding along, picking the bouquet of roses. 
Jeongin later won the singing competition. Mrs. Yang allowed you to hold the bouquet through the entire program and eventually give it to him when the awards have been given and the pictures have been taken. 
“Congratulations!” You practically ran halfway across the auditorium to him on the side of the stage, almost shaking the petals off the flowers.
“Thank you!” Jeongin grinned shyly at you, holding the big bouquet in one of his small hands as he pulled you into a hug with the other. “These are so pretty!”
“Your mom and and I picked them out at the supermarket.” You recalled as you slowly pulled away from his hug after a moment, hands unconsciously coming up once again to fix the baby’s breath and roses that have wrinkled slightly from all the running and hugging. 
Jeongin mimicked your actions almost instantly, his free hand going to the baby’s breath instead of the roses to admire them. “I like the baby’s breath the best, they’re so cute,” He commented nonchalantly. “but the roses are beautiful, too.” 
You hum through your heart doing a small unfamiliar flip in your chest. “I like them the best too.”
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kalachuchi ~ plumeria
Hana, your family’s Persian cat of thirteen years, died some time in the summer before your 7th grade from old age. You don’t remember much from that period of time in your life but endless crying in your bedroom and a small funeral you held in your backyard with Jeongin, his two brothers, and a few friends from school. 
“We’re sorry about Hana again.” One of your friends, Chaeryeong, hugged you before leaving. Since the weather seemed appropriately gloomy on that Sunday morning, everyone had to leave right after before it rained harshly as predicted on the weather forecast. 
“Thank you.” Hugging her back tightly, you then bid her a second goodbye as her parents’ car arrived.
With that, only you and Jeongin were left standing in your front lawn, waiting for the rain to come. With a sigh, you quietly turned around with the intention of trudging back inside your house, only to be stopped by Jeongin wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a hug. 
The gesture immediately encouraged the reemergence of tears on your face. 
“I’m so sorry about Hana,” He mumbled against the nook of your neck, hugging you tighter when he heard you choke back sobs. He pats your back comfortingly, swaying you from side to side and humming gently to ease you. 
You stood there for what seemed to be a long time, until it started drizzling in light rain and your mom appeared on your front porch and gestured for Jeongin to bring you inside the house. Hesitantly, you let your best friend take you inside, his arm never leaving your shoulder until the two of you sat down on the sofa in your living room.
“Can I hug you again, please?” You asked next to him when he brought his arm back to his side, the absence of his arms feeling uncomfortable in the moment somehow. 
Hearing your small voice broke his heart instantly. He nodded with a small hum, letting you snake your arms around his waist this time as he brings his arm back on your shoulder. The downpour outside became harsh almost instantly, the different flowers and shrubs growing right below your windows crashing against the glass panes that suddenly gave him an idea. 
Over a month later towards the end of that summer, when you and Jeongin came home from the animal shelter and adopted an orange tabby named Mimi, the two of you ended up chasing the energetic kitten to Hana’s grave in the hidden corner of your backyard—only to find a plumeria tree growing on top of its small mound. 
“Oh? What’s that, Mimi?” You crouched down in front of the tree as Mimi sniffed the small white flowers, your eyes beginning to sting. Jeongin, a few steps behind you, immediately slowed down running at seeing where you ended up. “That’s a plumeria.” 
You turned to Jeongin after, mustering up a small smile for him. “Did you do this?” 
He nods as if unsure, crossing the remaining distance to you and sitting down crisscross on the grass. “When the rain stopped, I found grown cuttings in our backyard and,” He shrugged, momentarily being distracted by your new kitten as she finished sniffing the flowers and proceeded to climb up his lap. “you did tell me one time that plumerias mean new beginnings.” 
Overwhelmed with the gesture, you let yourself fall back on the grass, leaning over to Jeongin to press your forehead to his shoulder blade gratefully. “You remember these kinds of things I tell you?” 
You hear him hum next to you, his shoulders moving slightly as he plays with your new cat. “I remember everything you tell me.” He clarified as nonchalantly as he could muster. “...and I know flowers make you the happiest.” 
“You make me the happiest.” You muttered under your breath in response, not knowing that he heard it clearly. “Thank you so much...this—this means a lot to me.”    
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bougainvillea 
You went on your first overnight field trip three years later in your 12th grade, right after your college entrance exams. The destination wasn’t far from school but the retreat house’s ambiance was somehow entirely different from the city outside its gate because of the area’s unusual amount of pine trees encircling it. Compared to the towering skyscrapers and bland-colored suburban neighbourhoods you’ve gotten used to, the retreat house felt like an entirely different world and the entire trip felt like a healing from school stress. 
“Look at all these pine trees, Innie!” You exclaimed on the second morning, when you woke up an hour early and found Jeongin wandering around the retreat house’s extensive mini forest. Looking up as you walked alongside him on the trail heading to the mess hall, you couldn’t help but marvel at the trees and their calming presence. “They look like they could reach the sky!”
Next to you, you missed the way Jeongin briefly casted his eyes away from the pine trees to have a good look at you, grinning at your familiar bright eyes and agape lips that only comes out whenever you looked at plants. 
He considers himself lucky you never seemed to notice the way he always looks for this particular expression of yours. You didn’t know it at the time but he‘s always thought you’re the prettiest admiring the flora around you. 
“They are,” He verbally agreed after a while once he’s successfully made himself look away from you to watch the morning sunlight filter in through the trees. Looking around, an archway of unfamiliar vibrant pink and greenish white immediately caught his eyes, pointing it to you. “Hey, look at that.”
You followed his gaze, seeing bougainvilleas for the first time. “Bougainvilleas!“ You smartly named the plant, remembering it from one of the books you used to read to Jeongin. “We should check it out.”
Hurriedly, the two of you then approached the archway leading to a hidden garden. The ground dipped a little to form a slope underneath your slippers as you entered, catching Jeongin off-guard until you expertly steadied him by his arms.
“Careful!” You hissed playfully, gently pushing a stray branch of the pink bougainvilleas above his head when he’s regained composure and stood up straighter.
“Right, sorry!” He laughed before walking a little slower behind you to admire the flowers.
You then busied yourself after by whipping out your phone and taking photos of the flowers, snapping a couple of candid shots for Jeongin as well. You wandered around the archway in relative silence, noticing a couple more different flowers as you walk closer to the other side.
“Ow,” You suddenly heard Jeongin wince behind you after a while, immediately making you turn to him in worry. Catching your gaze, he shows you the hand he pricked on one of the thorns, luckily intact. “Thorns.”
You sighed at his clumsiness, taking a step toward him and taking his hand in yours to inspect it further. “I told you to be more careful,” You scolded him under your breath, heaving another sigh afterwards but this time in relief while massaging the pad of his index finger. “Their thorns might give you rashes.”
“Sorry...” He sheepishly apologizes, curling up his fingers above your hand as if to retract them back to his side.
But you keep his hand in place, bringing your linked hands down between the two of you. “We should get ointment for this, though,” You conclude, walking him now back to the trail. “Just to be sure.”
“O...kay...” He trails off in a daze, clumsily keeping up with your brisk walking to the mess hall.
Your Homeroom adviser would check up on Jeongin after, almost mistaking his blushing cheeks for signs of illness. 
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baby’s breath 
In the summer that followed, when you’ve received your acceptance letters and graduated high school, you scheduled a packing day for university three days before you went to Seoul with Jeongin and his older brother. Video calling on your laptops and occasionally waving at each other through your nearly adjacent bedroom windows, you spent the entire day going through your things and arranging them in bags and boxes.
This is when you stumbled upon your books of pressed flowers.
Jeongin didn’t notice it at first, how your screen suddenly became silent, too engrossed for a while with running his hands through his keyboard which he hasn’t touched in a year to focus on studying. He played familiar melodies, mostly trot songs, for a while—looking up to you on the screen only after the fifth song and realizing that you’ve been standing in one distant spot the entire time, going through one of your hardbound books.
He walked over to his laptop perched amidst the mess on his bed at this, sitting down in front of it before calling your attention, “What’s that?”
The sudden voice made you close your book with a loud thud and you turned to Jeongin in surprise, “You startled me!”
He laughed through a quick apology before repeating his question, “What were you reading?”
“Oh,” Your hands unconsciously ran through the hardbound covers, opening it again to the page you were on previously. Walking to your laptop screen as well, you carefully tilted your book in front of the screen and showed him the the dried baby’s breath tucked in between the pages. “Remember when someone gave me a branch of baby’s breath on Valentine’s Day in the 10th grade? I forgot that I pressed it in a book and—I didn’t expect it to come out this pretty!”
Jeongin remembered. Of course he did, he almost died of anxiousness sneaking it around you at the time in an effort to be anonymous.
Braving through the butterflies that suddenly erupted in his chest, he coughed awkwardly once then replied, “Yeah, I remember. Didn’t it have a—a note?”
“Oh, right!” You exclaimed, retracting the book back to you and flipping through the pages until you found the card. “Here it is!” You then showed the perfectly preserved pink card he made, the words he printed on the paper barely visible on the screen but he knew each and every one in there until this point enough to get flustered. “This was really sweet, pity the sender never revealed themself.”
Though all the gears in Jeongin’s head urged him to reveal himself to you at that moment, he clumsily blurted out a small and almost dismissive ‘yeah,’ at your comment, letting the opportunity go as you then switched the topic to finding the jungle geranium bracelet he made for you, tucked in another book.
This would continue to bother Jeongin until the two of you were seated in the back of his older brother’s car, en route to Seoul, when he noticed the books in one of your bags, pointing to it and asking why you brought them.
“I collected all my pressed flowers into this one book—in case I miss home,” You answered after taking out the book from your bag. Flipping randomly, you ended up on the dried baby’s breath again—now reunited with its accompanying card. “Look, it’s the baby’s breath again.”
You then handed the card for him to read when he asked, noticing the way his hand slightly trembled in front of you.
“You complete all the empty spaces of my heart, like baby’s breath on sophisticated bouquets. Thank you for bringing more color and detail into my life. Without you, roses will only be intimidating and tulips insincere. Happy Valentine’s Day.” He read, nudging you on the shoulder after. “You like these kinds of things?”
“You don’t?” You shot back, taking the card from him once again and carefully placing it back on your book. “It’s a little cheesy but I think it’s nice.”
“Really?” He asked in disbelief, feeling light-heated all of a sudden.
“Yeah...” You shrugged back in response, fingers tapping on the book’s cover. “Like I said, it’s sweet.”
You especially left out the part that you’ve always hoped it was him who sent it.
Next to you, Jeongin felt like he could explode right there and then. He’s keep this in mind ever since. 
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cherry blossom
Your Freshman Orientation was everything but calm and laid back. From playing an intense game of modified musical chairs to dividing the entire auditorium in smaller groups to compete in a treasure hunt around the building; you, Jeongin, and your newfound friends, Seungmin, Felix, Hyunjin, and Jisung, were completely exhausted at the end of the day.
Luckily, your facilitator, a music major named Chan, prepared a relatively calmer final activity before parting ways with your group at the end of the day. The instruction was to write short messages to each other on origami cherry blossoms and exchange them with each other. Provided with endless bundles of pink and red colored papers, you spent the last twenty minutes of your school hours on that day coming up to people, making small talk, then writing compliments or Twitter handles on your cherry blossoms.
Naturally, since you knew each other very well already, you and Jeongin made it a point to exchange origamis last. You didn’t have to, Seungmin pointed out, but you and Jeongin mutually insisted.
“It’s like a fresh start,” You explained to Seungmin before the group dispersed.
Jeongin nodded along in agreement, “But with the same people.”
Hyunjin dramatically gushed how he thought that the gesture is so sweet. Felix and Jisung, meanwhile, simply nodded along and agreed that it is cute, while Seungmin was quick to catch onto Jeongin (as he had the entire day) that there might be something going on between the two of you.
So, you approached Jeongin after he’s met up with everyone in your group, handing him the prettiest origami cherry blossom you made.
“I wrote it inside the paper.” You told him shyly when his expression turned into that of confusion at seeing the petals empty. “Can you read it when you get back to the dorms?”
“Why?” He asks bluntly with a small frown, fingers hovering over the petals as if tempted to unfold them. “Did you write anything weird? Are you actually transferring schools?”
Your eyes widen and you wave your hand dismissively, “No, no! Just...read it later!”
"Okay.” And true to his word, Jeongin waited until he and Jisung returned to their shared dorm before opening your letter. 
“‘Did you know that cherry blossoms symbolize life changes? Like new beginnings.’” You wrote in your neatest handwriting despite the lack of tables and flat surfaces back at the auditorium. “‘But you’re still here and I’m glad. Thank you for growing up by my side. I hope we continue to until even after this point in our lives. Y/N.’”
Jisung, who was peering over Jeongin’s shoulders annoyingly the entire time, shook his shoulders violently until it was time to cook dinner time. “You two are so adorable! Are you dating? You better be dating!” He exclaimed, attacking the younger boy exaggeratedly.
The last question only made Jeongin frown, pushing his roommate away immediately. “We’re not dating or anything.” He sighed. “Y/N’s just—someone I’ve spent all my life with.”
“Didn’t you say you met when you were five? That’s not your entire life.” Jisung pointed out before a smirk overtook his features. “So if you’re not dating, you like them, then?”
Jeongin looked over silently at Jisung next to him after, catching the older boy’s anticipating expression as he himself contemplated on the question. Though his brothers caught on quickly early on, Jeongin himself as never verbally voiced out his feelings for you before.
But it’s Jisung and even when he’s caused so much trouble throughout orientation, Jeongin decided he could trust him. “Yeah...” He trails off, much to Jisung’s satisfaction. Saying it out loud felt weird but also familiar somehow that Jeongin can’t help but blush. “But don’t tell anyone!” 
Jisung surprisingly kept his mouth shut about it for a grand total of three months, when he ended up accidentally telling Seungmin in front of Jeongin during one break time they happened to share together. 
“So? What am I going to do with this information?” Seungmin asked unfazed during this particular lunch. 
Though he’s said this, however, he was already raking his brain for what he deemed as his most evil scheme yet. 
“Don’t tell Y/N, duh.” Jeongin answered with a pointed look at Jisung sitting next to Seungmin. Jisung only returns this look with a bashful grin and a peace sign help up in the air. “I swear, Jisung, if you’re not months older than me—”
“I pay half the dorm rent too.” Jisung adds unhelpfully, making Jeongin place his hand on his face and groan. 
Luckily, the two have only gossiped to Hyunjin and Felix, occasionally almost letting it slip right in front of you but holding back every time. 
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pink carnations
A week before Valentine’s Day, Jeongin found himself walking an entire two feet away from Seungmin along the empty crafts store aisles, begrudgingly dragging a small wheeled cart behind him. Seungmin has given up scolding him for trailing behind so slowly a long time ago and has decided on just carrying as many items as he can in his arms before walking back to the younger boy. Somewhere, you were also wandering around, albeit in a different aisle with Felix, as you try to find the other half of your buying list.
At this point, Jeongin really just wanted to strangle whoever came up with the idea of having a dorm party and a Secret Valentine exchange gift (Kim Seungmin).
“Stop frowning, you look ugly.” Seungmin suddenly snapped him out of his daydreams after a while, carefully dumping packs of colored paper and bottles of glitter on the cart.
Jeongin narrowed his eyes in response, crossing his arms, “You come up with an exchange gift for Hyunjin.”
At this response, Seungmin only scoffed, taking the cart on one hand and dragging Jeongin along with him with the other. “We both know that’s not why you’re frowning.” He stated matter-of-factly as the two transfered to another aisle. “If you’re thinking about buying Y/N something or, you know, confessing, I’m telling you, just do it. It’s Valentine’s, anyway.” 
Jeongin rolled his eyes. “It’s not that easy! And it’s really not the right time to confess.”
“When is the right time?” Seungmin prodded on, stopping right in front a display of party cups. This crafts store has everything for some reason. “You’re in your first year of uni, you just finished your second semester midterms, and your wingman friends have time until finals to help you out. When else is the right time?”
The younger boy rolled his eyes, helping Seungmin examine different party cup designs now. “That’s exactly why it’s the worst time ever: it’s Valentine’s, we’re still adjusting to university, and we have four mutual friends trying to wingman terribly.” 
“If you don’t plan on confessing then at least give Y/N something, they’re your best friend and they deserve it on a holiday like this.” Seungmin sighed exasperatedly, picking a design after a while. “Plus, it’s not like you haven’t given Y/N gifts in other holidays or anything of the sort before. Just think of it casually like you would do with Christmases or birthdays.”
As if on dramatic cue, the two boys see you and Felix pass by after, laughing at something on the latter’s phone while dragging along a cart of buntings and cartolinas. Seungmin had to physically snap his fingers in front of Jeongin again to get his attention.
“I...” Jeongin trailed off, sighing towards the end when you disappear. “I’ve only given them something on Valentine’s once and it was—well, it was anonymous.” 
"What?” Seungmin blinked twice in disbelief. “You have a best friend who’s into flowers, literally the most common Valentine’s Day gift, yet you’ve never officially given them anything on such day before?” 
“Valentine’s is just too obvious, even if they don’t know how I feel—” Jeongin sighed helplessly before frowning at his own words. “It sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”   
“Yeah,” Seungmin nodded fervently, lightly smacking Jeongin in the head with his party cups. “Took you long enough to realize. Like I said, you don’t have to have romantic intentions if you can’t confess right now.” 
“Ugh, what do I do?” Jeongin scratched his head in frustration, realizing at that moment that it does sound a bit stupid not giving you anything on Valentine’s before. 
The older boy sighed, though he seriously contemplated on it for a moment. “The market’s on the other entrance of the crafts store,” He finally said after a while, shaking Jeongin’s hand off his arm. “Pick out something simple, not too big and extravagant because it’d be a waste seeing them wilt after a while, as long as it can be meaningful for the two of you.”
Jeongin’s eyes widened at this. “Really?”
And Seungmin only nods, shooing him with his hands, “Yeah, yeah, go, but make it back here before we go to checkout.”
“I owe you one.” Jeongin grinned happily, sprinting out of the bookstore. 
Now left alone, Seungmin joined you and Felix on another aisle, showing you his and Jeongin’s cart.
“But where’s Jeongin?” You asked curiously, looking around for any sign of your best friend.
“Oh, he went to the bathroom.” Seungmin lied smoothly with a reassuring grin. “Now, what else do we need?”
-
Later on at the Valentine’s day dorm party, once the exchange gifts have been done, Jeongin approaches you at the end of the night as you prepare to head back up to your dorm with the last gift he’s been carefully carrying around with him. 
“Oh? Innie, hi.” You smile up at him when he jogs up to you by the staircase, immediately noticing the wrapped gift in his hands. “What’s that? Do you want me to give that to my roommate?” 
The boy only shakes his head in front of you before thrusting the gift in your hands. “No, no, it’s for you.” He clarifies, letting go of the wrapped package only when it’s safely in both of your hands as you adjust to its surprising weight. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” 
“But I didn’t make you anything.” You frown, one hand fiddling with the ribbon tying the newspaper packaging together. 
You and Jeongin have never exchanged gifts on Valentine’s Day or even White Day before (or at least from what you know). You once told him that you get enough flowers and other little gifts from him on other days and he’s always told you that he enjoys just spending time casually with you on this particular day. 
And you’ve always thought that, even with your crush on him, you don’t think he owes you something on these kinds of days. 
“It’s fine.” You hear Jeongin reassure you after a while. “Just open it when you get back to your room.” 
The familiar words make you giggle. “Why? Did you make something weird?” 
He catches on after a slight delay, laughing along with you. “No!” He waves his hand dismissively. “Just open it later.” 
“Okay.” You then transfer the gift to one hand in order to hug Jeongin properly. “I’m giving you a hug because I don’t have anything to exchange with you right now but expect something on White Day, okay?” 
“You don’t have to give me anything on White Day.” He pats your back with a laugh, his heartbeat ringing loudly in his ears now. 
“We’ll see.” You conclude before parting ways with him, bidding him a second goodnight and going up to your dorms first. 
When you arrive back in your dorm, the first thing you do is to take the gift back in your room and unwrap it, finding a small jar turned into a terrarium of dried pink carnations and baby’s breaths inside. 
The note attached to it reads, “’Y/N! I was surprised you kept the baby’s breath. I didn’t think of drying flowers until you showed them to me so here’s my own attempt, that maybe these flowers can last for as long as we’ve been together. Happy Valentine’s Day!” 
It didn’t take you long to connect the dots together, a sigh of relief passing your lips as your chest now feels lighter with your worries vanishing. 
You can finally and clearly tell that Jeongin likes you too. 
Picking up the terrarium from the newspaper wrappings before throwing the latter away, you examine the smaller details inside, your heart melting at the visible effort Jeongin spent making you such an intricate gift. 
Touched by this gesture, you then spend the rest of the night coming up with Jeongin’s White Day gift. 
178 notes · View notes
georgemackayhey · 4 years
Text
Like Real People Do
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“Hii can you do an imagine, "Your first time with George" maybe as an insecure/uneasy reader"
"Can you pleeaaassse write more nsfw stuff? More Than A Night Out gave me my rights"
Alright yall, heed the 18+ warning! 
Seriously, I really don't want to block anyone (I love yall!) On that note... I wouldn't say this theme is my strong suit, nor have I been in a good headspace, but boy did I try my best ♡ 
w/c: 3k
───※ ·❆· ※───
You didn't date.
You called off meeting up with strangers in bars and listening to them tell half-assed life stories, embellishing in hopes they'd get to have their way with you in the same evening.
You were happy to mingle among friends on weekends and at parties, but going home alone felt safe. Keeping to yourself was the best bet, having learned your lesson by now. You recalled more unpleasant domestic experiences than ones that left you daydreaming of more. So you simply stayed single.
Some of your friends didn't regard your limits, tricking you into double dates and the like. Other friends understood but still gushed over their brothers and cousins in hopes you'd be intrigued by their qualities and demand to be introduced with wedding rings on standby.
And then there were the friends who never asked or bothered you about it at all. George was one of those friends.
He was your ride to your friend groups monthly movie theater meet up's. And he always let you take home his leftovers after dinners he wasted chatting with your mutual friends about books and culture.
In turn, you let George borrow your favorite albums. And you'd always saved him a seat in the back of bars you had to show up to for friend's birthday parties, while they threw themselves between strangers on the dance floor. Times like then were when you got to know George best.
And during the last month of summer, George invited everyone to take over a beach house big enough for your ever-expanding group and more. Apparently some of his distant family owned the property but were hardly ever in the area to enjoy it. So they gave George a spare key, and insisted he treated the place like his own.
And thankfully, then, between your friends racing to the shore in the witching hour, and when everyone split up into pairs for the evening, George kept you company. You made a habit of joining each other on the rickety front porch, sharing a drink, and usually sitting in silence.
But there were nights you talked about the constellations you could see above the roaring ocean. And where you'd like to live if you had an unlimited budget. Where you'd come from and what you wanted, and didn't.
You went home to the most dreary September of all time. You used to adore the solitude of your dull apartment. But you missed waking up to your friend's laughter, having someone, if not many more, to enjoy market runs and mealtimes with. You had never felt more lonely. And you couldn't stop thinking of George.
When he came round to give you a lift to the movie theater, your usual ride together was quiet. The silence between you was heavy- you wondered if he noticed. You sat together in a boring film. Or maybe it was the best of all time. You could only focus on how close George was to you, how you'd recognized the feeling of his company. You wondered how to ask him to come around more often, without sounding pathetically desperate.
Luckily birthday parties and Halloween bashes kept coming. And you kept finding quiet places to listen to George tell his stories. And he would always share his drink, and ask about your family, and how you were doing.
One night when he invited everyone around to his flat and only a couple of your friends managed to show up, they headed out soon after dinner. You were left alone in George's kitchen to help clean up and wonder what to do with the rest of the early blue evening.
And even though your heart beat in your throat, and everything you thought to say sounded stupid in your head, you determined it was time.
During a much too easy card game at Georges table, when a conversation about some of the horrifically silly things George had witnessed you manage in the past; you decided to stop testing the waters, and address them.
"I can't believe you put up with me." You grinned, peering past your hand of playing cards to the guy sat beside you.
"I just like you," George answered simply, his ocean eye flickering up to meet yours for a beat.
"Really?" You asked, pushing for him to say more, hoping he got the hint.
"I really do." George grinned shyly, turning his attention back to his hand of playing cards he kept accidentally giving you glimpses of. You watched George bite his lip and fiddle with the cards as if he were arranging them just so.
"What if... I like you too?" It wasn't just his tousled yellow hair, or the way his smile was warmer than a ray of sun. It was his lame jokes. His soft answers. Him.
"You don't date." George rose a brow, keeping his eyes turned away. He wasn't bittered or mocking. He was accepting. George laid down his cards, to a game you weren't focused on at all anymore.
"I like you, George." You admit in a hush. His stunning eyes met yours. He seemed to consider your words, and much more. He started to speak a couple of times as he searched your features.
"So maybe... we can start slow..." You offered. You had never planned on opening up to anyone. But George had stuck around. He was always there when you needed him even when you hadn't known what you needed. He didn't make fun of your unreasonable anxieties and he always laughed at your jokes. Even the ones you knew weren't funny. You hadn't expected to ever let anyone close enough, you hadn't trusted anyone could feel like home. But before you could even decide, it was as if your heart grew a mind of its own and lept right out of your chest into George's orbit. So since he already seemed to have you, it seemed like common courtesy to at least let the guy know.
With a shy smile, George bore his brilliant blue eyes into yours, searching them for assurance. As you looked to each other you felt his knuckles brush yours, the back of his hand nervously creeping closer. George took one of his fingers and looped it around one of yours while he agreed that it would be silly for two people who felt the same way about each other to do nothing about it. So you did.
George started coming around when there wasn't any reason to, sometimes bringing take away, or asking you on walks around the park. Sometimes you'd sit in silence next to your favorite old tree and enjoy that last purple swirls in the dusk sky. And sometimes you'd watch films, one after another, pausing only to argue over the ending or make silly predictions.  And times like then, you curled into George's side like a sleepy cat. He'd carded his warm hand through your hair as you drifted off, content.
You got snowed into his flat when you showed up a few hours before the first-holiday party of the season; to help bake treats for everyone. As ice froze everyone's doors shut, the party was swiftly canceled but your plans for the evening weren't ruined at all.
George set up his den with extra blankets, finding the holiday channel on the telly, standing to refill your cup of tea during commercials so you didn't have to move. He kissed you that night, soft and kind, and slow. You both fell asleep on the floor among the mess of all the blankets he owned, while snow piled up and over the window sills.
You spent New Year's Eve much like the past couple before, watching your wild group of pals take shots and dance to bad music. George listened to you talk as you waited for the new year to set in, and he kept one of his fingers looped around yours almost all night long.
When the snow started to melt and your group of friends started squeezing into their cut off jeans from the year before, George invited everyone back to the beach house. He set a date and sent out invitations in the mail like it was the damn 1800's. Most every rsvp got sent back with the box labeled "going "grossly marked up.
George offered to give you a lift there, a day early so he could stock up on emergency snacks and soaps and even more DVDs in case the rains came and ruined your fun on the shore. You agreed happily and walked through the isles of a department store together, picking out essentials based on how well you knew your group of friends who might need them.
And while you laughed and helped and listened, you grew increasingly more fucking terrified. Because you'd never spent so long enjoying one person's company. You were enamored with George yes, but what's more, was- you trusted him. You never thought it was possible. But you really did. And the thing that you were most scared of, was having to accept the possibility that he didn't feel the same way.
Things like this had gone wrong before. Granted, things had never gone remotely close to this right before, either. But you still prepared yourself to hurt. It was always a possibility you were too afraid of risking. But George was different. You somehow knew even if he hurt you, it would be the loveliest heartbreak you'd ever feel.
You got to the beach house, completely abandoned since the last time you left it. You found your someone's favorite lost t-shirt in one of the bathrooms, and a lot of dust on the shelves. After clearing away some of the cobwebs and unloading all your groceries to their respective places, night began to fall.
The sky was still blue enough to admire the roaring ocean from the front porch. George brought out a couple of drinks, and you sat there together like you had the summer before. Only now, it was a little too chilly. So you said goodnight to the scenery, making a note of spending extra time to soak up its beauty the next morning.
And on your way inside you joked about how someone was bound to forget to pack something they needed, or bring one of the things George asked them to. You were wrapped up in laughter as you turned out the lights and drifted to settle in.
When you headed to the bedroom where all your bags had been discarded, you scurried off to the ensuite shower. This was the room George stayed in last year, a space you'd never stepped foot near until tonight.
And when you stepped back out into the bedroom, you realized you didn't want to leave.
George was busy turning down his bed covers to the dim night light in a far off corner. A dark shine beamed in from the moon in the window next to the quilted bed, and George never looked more beautiful- perfectly tousled hair. Kind, sleepy eyes. Yeah, you'd let him break your heart.
"What?" He laughed in a warm low rumble, catching you staring. You bit back a chuckle and crossed the room to meet him.
"I just love you. That's all." You informed, circling one of your fingers around his, gazing up to the guy.
You'd said so in passing, during game nights he helped you win and in the middle of lunches he'd managed to talk you into ordering. But nothing prompted you now, and the statement held an all-new kind of weight.
"I love you, too," George whispered in turn, raising his other hand to your cheek.
"Can I stay in here? With you?" You asked, keeping your gaze set and your voice low even though no one else was around to hear.
"I'd like that." George assured with a tiny grin.
You clamored into the big bed, pointing out the window to the moon over the ocean. George eased in behind you, gazing all the same. You tangled your hands together staring out the window for a while, giggling over nothing every now and again. He was so impossibly close, so warm next to you.
"George." You turned your head slowly, catching his attention. He looked at you, silently wondering what you wanted. But somehow you didn't need to say.
Somehow he knew to lean in for a kiss, soft and sweet. When he pulled away, you could tell he didn't want to. When George looked at you, you could tell he longed for more, but still kept his distance, kept your meek nature in mind. He was too kind, too considerate. There weren't words to convey how you felt. You knew what came next. You wanted George.
You reached for his hand, and brought it to rest in the dip of your waist. He kept his eyes steady on yours while his thumb brushed over the skin exposed where your shirt had ridden up.
"Kiss me again?" You asked, barely a whisper. George leaned in, almost before you could finish asking, to press his mouth against yours. You grabbed a fist full of his shirt to pull him closer while George let his hand travel to the small of your back, holding you perfectly against him. He kissed you slow and deep like he was trying to put you in a trance.
Whether he meant to or not, you wondered if it worked, as you melted into the mattress all while lazily pulling him almost all the way on top of you. This was as far as you'd ever taken things with George, yanking at each other's clothes while you kissed until you couldn't breathe.
So when you gently pushed George away, he started to retract back to his side of the bed without putting up a fight. But you sat up too. And George watched on in wonder when you sheepishly slid into his lap, your knees on either side of his hips.
Without a word you pulled George's shirt up, silently suggesting he take it all the way off.
When he did, you didn't relish the sight long before you dove in for another kiss. His skin was burning, and you could feel his heart hammer when your hand traveled across his chest. You moved your kisses to his neck, reveling in the feeling of being so close. George kept one arm gently wrapped around you as your teeth grazed a spot under his ear that made his breath catch in his throat.
"Y/n. Are you- Do you..." George began, keeping his hold around you all the same. You pulled away, gazing to George through your lashes while your heart teetered on the edge.
"Do you not want to?" You worried. You were so finally sure. But George might not have been. So you prepared to be let down gently, knowing George would at least be kind enough to break your fall.
"Yes." George let out a breathy laugh, reaching to hold your head in both of his hands. "Of course I want to do this. But I know how you feel and if you don't-"
"I trust you, George." You nodded, searching his eyes while a smile bloomed across your face. You'd been so nervous for a moment like this to come true. But everything was different with George. He made you laugh when you never expected to, he made you think about things in ways you'd never even considered. He was so the one for you.
You wrapped your fingers around George's wrist, bringing his plus to your lips. You watched George's eyes flutter as you planted a small kiss there, before moving his hand to your hip.
"Just go slow." You nodded, watching George's eyes open to meet yours. You leaned your forehead against his while he nodded, making you laugh.
He decorated your cheeks with gentle pecks and moved his hands under the hem of your shirt as you leaned in to capture his lips with yours again. And because you spent a while that way, you weren't nervous to act upon taking things even further.
Kisses turned seering as George wrangled your shirt off. His lips traveled down your throat as you settled deeper into his lap, shocked by how easy this was. Your kisses grew longer and sloppier while your layers started to collect on the floor.
You impressed yourself by how effortlessly you reach to pull away George's trousers. He managed to kick them aside while you kept your lips on his, laughing between breaks for air.
But when he pulled you back into his lap, when his fingers danced around your waistband, you were suddenly swept up in the realization that this was happening. Like, really happening.
"Uh, wait a second." You halted in a shaky breath. You didn't want to stop, not completely. You just needed to assess things for a moment, to catch up with this new reality in which this wasn't upsetting or dull or any of the things being with anyone else ever was.
George stalled in an instant, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. "Do you want to stop?" He asked gently, hands firmly pressed against your back, eyes glowing right into yours.
"No way." You breathed with a grin. You knew it would be better than before, with George. Probably the best. It already was, you realized with a smile, encouraging George one more time. Your hips rolled against his, causing his heavenly sigh in your ear.
He wriggled you out of the last of your clothes and made you feel like a wonder of the world, tracing the shapes you were made up of with his pretty fingers. By the time you were laid against the pillows admiring the halo of light ringing around George's waves of hair, he asked again if you were sure about this.
"So long as you are." You swallowed.
"Of course I'm sure. God, I'm so sure." George pressed a kiss to your face between sentences, making you giggle and swoon all at once. "I've never been so sure of anyone but you. I'd like to keep it that way." George rambled, peppering a few more loving, gentle kisses to your cheek. "But if you want to stop for any reason, we'll stop. Just say so."
"Thank you, George." You grinned after a beat, knowing he really meant it. Recognizing how deeply he really cared for you, watching him search your face for validation. Watching George watch you, contentedly, like he had dozens of times before now. He gave you a slowly sleepy blink, ocean blue eyes shining brighter when they opened again.
George leaned closer, hovering over you with his eyes locked on yours. He molded a kiss to your lips before anything. Then to your cheek. Then his eyes fluttered to meet yours once more.
"Slow." You rose a brow, whispering a reminder, but it was really more of a green light for him to finally take the next step.
George repeated you, in a barely audible hush, soaking up the look in your eye. A lithe grin painted his lips while you held your breath. You accounted for the feeling of his fingers loosely tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing across your temple every now and again. You'd nearly forgotten everything else while swimming in those warm icy eyes of his. He didn't break you from your reverie when he gave a small nod. The gesture only settled you further, as you responded by lacing your fingers around the back of his neck.
George kept his hand nearly cradling your head as he pushed closer. His thumb brushing across the pulse of your temple was keeping you grounded while your heart threatened to soar into the clouds. While your breathing grew deeper, while he moved as close as he could until he couldn't anymore.
"You okay?" George asked, his voice beautifully strained.
"Uh-huh." You gazed at him through hooded eyes as you adjusted everything, including the realization that this was happening. He wasn't even moving yet. And he waited until you had to ask him to, with his head buried in your neck. After a couple of breaths, you looked to George, giving him a nod. He pressed his forehead against yours and moved his hips.
A tame, steady pace set in as you stopped George from asking if you were alright, again, assuring him you were really, very good. Your raspy encouragement must have given George the sound authority to go about awing you further.
He kept one hand against your temple while his other trailed down your side, fingers deliberately pressed into your skin as he brought your leg around his hip. George's strong-arm hooked under your back to keep you secured against him. He picked up the pace as your hands tangled in his hair, around his shoulder, holding on to the moment. To George.
You wondered why you waited so long to feel this damned good, while George spoke low in your ear. He listed off all the things he liked best about you, and why. He planted clumsy kisses to your lips. He made you see stars brighter than all the far off constellations you were used to pointing out from the shoreline. You seemed to float among them, above everything. Time slowed down while your heart sped up, somehow, and while everything around you faded into an impossibly dull background, you still had George.
His weight was warm and secure. His breath was hot on your neck. His voice was saccharine in your ear.  When he eventually eased next to your side in a heap, the cool of the night was still shielded by him.
You snuggled to his chest, like an old sleepy cat while he kept repeating how he loved you. You said so too, as many times as you could manage before drifting to sleep all tangled together.
The next morning came slow. You made coffee and watched the sunrise above the waves from the porch. When your friends started showing up in pairs and trios and more, they all seemed sort of relieved to find you and George attached at the hip. They greeted you as if you'd always been a packaged deal, and they didn't bat an eye when you stuck together to roam the vast empty beach. There was no fighting over choosing partners when someone broke out a new board game that night. When your friends were all gathered around the dinner table, and all the extra snacks and gifts and surprises for the summer were stored away, you still had George.
Maybe things wouldn't always be so easy. There would likely be fights and upsets and questions that didn't always have answers. But George was worth it. You had him now, you loved him and he couldn't stop reminding how dearly he loved you. Nothing had ever hurt so good before. You decided to keep it that way.
───※ ·❆· ※───
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La Squadra Backstories!!!! Stream of consciousnesss style!
So literally I just sat down and wrote down exactly what I thought. I have not edited these at all lmaooo. But I made long drawn out backstories for our underrated assassins so enjoy!!
T/W + C/W - idk I talk about people dying in a lot of ways. Child abuse, drugs, severe illness, dead cats. This stuff is a mess I really didn’t censor it. But nothing is described in detail cuz I’m too lazy for that.
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Prosciutto cuz he’s at the top of my mind. Mmkay he and Pesci are brothers but not by blood. Pro was an orphan, I still wanna make him Russian, and pesci’s extremely kind and gentle family adopted him when he was like 7. They were like literally a garden catalogue family. Perfection. The parents died when pro was like 15, Pesci was 13?? Idk the age difference I’m just making shit up now. And Pesci had no fucking idea what to do, they didn’t have any other family, and pro was like “I’m still basically a hardened criminal from living on the streets of russia most of my childhood, so joining the local mafia should be a piece of cake”. It was.
Risotto..... fuck it. Polpo is risottos dad. I’ve seen that so much and fuck it I’m here for it now. Idk how I feel about the whole Mariah from part 3 being his mom that seems too coincidental. But either way, he is half Spanish. I don’t think he’s ever been in touch with his Spanish roots at all, but that’s what he is. Polpo had too much fun on vacay in Spain. But it was a once night stand and polpo, a skinny king back in the mid 70s, fucked off to do mafia stuff and didn’t know about this kid. Risotto never knew his father. Time goes by, about the time he’s 10, rizzo’s mom moves to Italy to find the man she once loved. Since the 70s, she has been married and divorced 4 times, disowned by her entire family, and she speaks only of Polpo, the man who swept her off her feet and then disappeared into the night. Leaving only this child with his matching eyes. So they live in Italy, risotto is about 13 now and his mom has been searching seriously for polpo for about 3 years. One day, she gets too close, mafia takes her out. Risotto is all alone in a country he has lived in for less than 3 years. So he decides to take revenge against the mafia. He goes to hunt them down. (I’m too lazy to write out how. Gets a gun. Basically the scene in part 5 where the kid is like “you killed my father and now I’m gonna kill you!!” But he chickens out???) yeah except rizzo didn’t chicken out, he stood firm and killed 2 of them. The other 2 surrendered, and immediately asked rizzo to take polpos test. He did. And he unknowingly met his father, the man his mother had died looking for. He stared into his fathers eyes, black sclera reflecting each other, and passed his test with ease.
Wowwwwwwwww alrighty then that was something. Let’s shake out those jitters because fuck that was intense and let’s move onto some happy shit.
Melone!! Always a bottle of joy. He was a phenomenal student, a perfect child. Perfect grades, perfect attitude, perfect looks. Onlyyyy tiny thing is he murdered cats and buried their heads in the back yard. But that was his only flaw. Aaaaaaaand mayyybe trying to use his extensive knowledge of molecular biology and genetics (even at as young as 11) to asexually breed said cats.
But, apart from that, absolutely perfect specimen of a young boy. And he kept that up until college. Until the rape accusation. Melone had no interest in having sex with her, he swore under oath in open court, he only wanted to “extract her essence” in the hopes of making her amazing genetics stay pure for centuries.
Due to his previously amazing school record, he was allowed to plead not guilty by reason of insanity (because the justice system is bullshit) and was released to his parents. During this whole process, Melone’s mother had begun to grow suspicious of her son, wondering if there was something wrong with him. This led her to explore the crawl space under the garage, more commonly known as “Melone’s childhood laboratory”. The cat skulls alone were enough to set her off. They allowed him into their home long enough to fool the court, but parole officers don’t pay attention, and they kicked him to the curb a month later. Broke, alone, and with no real skills other than his genius mind and gorgeous body, he became a prostitute. It was only a few months before he wandered up to a gigantic white haired man with angry eyes and asked if he wanted a date. Instead of declining, our good ol rizzo just knocked him out cold and brought him home. The rest is history. Literally because I can’t think of what would happen between that and Melone joining the mafia. I assume he was just their house pet for a little while before he decided he wanted a stand too.
Oh good lord these are getting insane. Better keep going. Okay I have no idea what’s about to come out of my head for ghia but oh Lordy. Might as well start. Ghiaccio wasn’t always quite as angry, but it’s actually gonna be a sweet story. Kinda. He used to act perfect, even tho he always felt the anger inside. He was forced to bottle it up and put on a happy exterior always. His mother was Belgian. (From experience, Belgian mothers (Flemish in particular) will beat you until your ass is raw if you talk back). Italian father, they lived in italy. He had 4 sisters, he was the middle child of 5. Around high school, he started acting out. Of course this was due to all of his bottled up anger from the past 15 years. 4 shattered sinks, 16 holes in the drywall, and one classroom fire later, Ghiaccio was expelled from school. His parents were too busy brimming with joy about the success of all his sisters that they didn’t take much notice to him. “If you’re going to behave in such a manner you might as well leave” his mother said. She was past the point of caring enough to beat him. So he left. 16 and with no where to go, he wandered the streets. After a year or so, Ghia had gotten used to that life, and was angry at everyone, sometimes when he wasn’t even angry. Anger had become his coping mechanism. Screaming was easier than talking. Until one day, he screamed at a blonde man in an intersection. Prosciutto was driving back to the squads hang out, boxes of takeout in the back seat of the car. He had chosen to not stop at the red light, just for fun, and nearly ran into our blue haired teenager. Ghia proceeded to cuss him out for a good 4 minutes in the middle of this intersection before pro cut him off. “Get in the back. “ he said, with his own special brand of brotherly love. “I know how you can put that anger to good use”. Ghiaccio, having no real reason to object, got in the back seat. Prosciutto was silent the rest of the drive and Ghiaccio yelled about all the take out food, now splattered on the backs of the seats due to the sudden slam on the brakes.
Y’all I don’t even remember the other la squadra members. Let’s do sorbet/gelato because they have zero backstory or personality so I can just ramble. *Clears throat* let’s begin. These fuckers. Friends since birth. Grew up together, always really close. They were both dirt poor, but because the only school nearby was a decent public school, when were able to slightly experience middle class living. They liked it. They wanted to see upper class, and once they did, they wanted to be there. These two were money grubbing bffs, I’m talking josuke and okuyasu, but like waaaaay more intense and also violent. They both left home around 14, together of course. Gelatos father had left them a few years prior, and his family were on the brink of starvation. Figuring they didn’t need another mouth to feed (and completely abandoning his post as family patriarch lol) he left with sorbet, who’s family had all died in various ways over the years. Most recently, his older sister being taken by some illness that was probably easily treatable, but with no means for a doctor, she died in days. The boys left home and school, and made a living by pickpocketing tourists and occasionally launching into larger heists. They made a decent living for themselves, but eventually started spending their money on drugs. It’s was sorbet first, heroin was really good to him for awhile. Gelato was against it, knowing it was the reason sorbets family had been so poor to begin with. His father was an addict, and despite holding down a job fairly well, spent all his earnings on drugs. Eventually he became too dependent, lost his job, and OD’d. But around this same time, when the boys were 16/17, they were starting to realize their feelings for each other. Confused teenaged minds full of budding love led to Gelato giving in, and soon their days were filled with heroin fueled ecstatic sex. They lived like this for awhile, existing in half reality, until one day they chose to set their pickpocketing targets on a short man with close cropped gray hair. The plan was perfect, sorbet bumped into the man and gelato passed by to grab his wallet, and suddenly they were the size of mere ants. In an instant, they were returned to size, left to wonder if it was real or just a hallucination from long term drug use. But they didn’t run. Formaggio introduced himself, with a loose handshake and a pause to spit out some tobacco, and promptly invited them to a “party”. Although, Formaggio was honest in his promise, this party did have drugs.
Cheese boys turn!! Seriously who am I forgetting??? Illuso my mirror man! Am I forgetting someone else too?? Idk. But shut up Kel it’s cheese boys turn.
So. Formaggio. Probably the most chill childhood. Lower middle class, pretty average, but he was quite gifted with sports. Soccer was his main, and also a fantastic competitive swimmer. (Okay I have a separate hc that Bruno is really good at soccer so hol horse up a moment so I can imagine those 2 playing soccer together in friendly competition. In my lil au where Bruno is in la squadra because I say BruPro exes rights please and thanks.) but anyway, he got really good at soccer and was offered a scholarship to play at a fancy pants private high school when he was 14. Of course his parents made him go, this has been the family’s dream for years, and formaggio’s as well. So high school is amazing, he’s starting to attract attention from universities even tho he’s barely in grade 11 by this point. And it’s all really amazing until he realizes. This isn’t what he wants. And it’s just that. He doesn’t want to play soccer anymore, he doesn’t want to potentially be famous. He just wants to be a kid. So he leaves school, he leaves home, he wants to start over. And he wanders into a diner and sees this small group of weirdly dressed men. At this point, it’s rizzo, pro, Pesci, and ghia. And he’s staring at them because they’re dressed like circus clowns but their aura is so murderous. And then the one who looks like a giant pineapple starts staring back. Pesci gets up and walks over to Formaggio. “I know you! You’re that amazing kid soccer player!!” And he just goes on and on about shit he read in the news (70% of it was false) until pro comes over and yanks his idiot brother away. Pro starts asking Formaggio questions, thinking he could be a good target. Stupid little rich kid. But to prosciuttos surpise, Formaggio is just a down to earth kid with no more money to his name than he needs to pay for this meal. Prosciutto takes him home after that. He doesn’t really offer any explanation.
(The rambling at the beginning of this paragraph actually happened lol so I paused for like 4 hrs oops)
Alright we are back. Had to leave to go to therapy and then scream at my mother and cry to my boyfriend but we are ready to go! Illuso and I really hope he’s the last one and I’m not forgetting one. Illuso was raised in an orphanage from infancy. No idea who his parents could even be. Fun fact: one of the nuns at the orphanage (cuz it’s an orphanage in Italy in 1980, they’re catholic.) nicknamed him Illuso because he was always pointing at things that weren’t there. As a tiny baby and a child, he would always be looking at things no one else can see (yes illuso is a natural stand user fight me). The nuns called him illuso as an insult, hoping to shame him into stopping. He never did. When he outgrew the orphanage, he decided to join the priesthood. He was 19, a priest in training, when the mafia came to the orphanage. They were collecting, and illuso knew they didn’t have the money this month. He tried to talk the mobsters down, but that went about as well as planned. 4 bullets to the chest, 3 open heart surgeries, and half a dozen resuscitations later, Illuso was released from the hospital. The orphanage had been shut down, and no one knew what had happened to the children or the nuns. With no where to go, illuso knew of one place that could use talents like his. The talents of steadily stealing money from the starving children of the church for a decade. It was during polpos test that illuso’s stand manifested. Not due to the arrow, but to protect its user from the other stand. Illuso was able to avoid Black Sabbath by hiding in his newfound mirror world until it was time to return the lighter to polpo (kinda cowardly but whatever.) he was assigned to risottos group by chance and was the last to join excluding Melone. But they loved him as if they had found him themselves.
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Survey #467
“oh, mary, mary, ain’t this fun?  /  mary, mary, i’ve got a gun”
If the last person you kissed asked you to marry them, what would you do? Pray to god it wasn't in public and tell him it's waaaay too soon for that one. Does your favorite uncle have any children? Yeah, a son and daughter. Name all the members (first, middle and last names) from your favorite band. Ha, it's funny how once upon a time, I could do this. All I've got now is John Michael Osbourne. Have you ever heard a young child swear? Maybe? Have you ever seen someone get a piercing/tattoo?: Yes to both. Has a taste of something ever made you smile? Boy meet me at The Cheesecake Factory and see what my face does lmaooo As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? I wanted to be a paleontologist sooo badly. I wanted to discover new dinosaurs, put a shitload of work into unearthing fossils and being so proud to see the final results... Even now as an adult, if I could handle the heat, traveling, and hardcore school, I'd still love to do that. Would you cuss the person you hate the most out to their face? No. My hatred for her is unjustified and I'd rather just not say anything to her. Have you ever spent more than two weeks in a wheelchair? No. Where do you see your closest friend in ten years? As one of the strongest people around. I imagine her with a job in medical coding, while also pursuing the hobbies of ball python breeding and writing. I'm sure she'll have loads of pets to love, too! Do you like Florence + The Machine? I've never listened to them. Did you watch the presidential debates? No. Do you ever watch Dr. Phil? No. Are you typically unattracted to people outside of your race? No; I can be attracted to any race. Have you ever ridden any animal other than a horse? No. Do you brush your hair when it’s wet? Yes. Do you eat the crusts of your bread? Yeah, I always have. Have you ever flown a kite? Yeah! At my childhood home, there was a tobacco field directly across the street, and when they weren't in season so the field was flat, Dad would help us with getting kites set up and in the air. Those are good memories. How are you for money? I don't make any money. Mom is struggling. Do you think you are more intelligent than the average person? Ha, no. Do you ever think about why we are here? Does it matter? We're here, so make the most of it. Do you like cherries? I fucking hate cherries. Name a celebrity that you admire that nobody would expect you to: Jeffree Star, probs. Can you use a yoyo? Not well, but yeah. Do you think Jenna Marbles’ videos are funny? I've actually never watched her. Do you like folk music? NOOOOOOOOO Ever had a crush on somebody of the same sex? Yes. Do you know any lesbians? Yep. Favourite member of your favourite band: I'm unfamiliar with all but Ozzy himself. And Ozzy is rad. Who’s your favourite female rapper? I don't have one. When you were younger, were you ever in a relationship with someone you now realize was way too old for you? No. Have you ever had a seizure? No. I sometimes have very, very quick spasms when I'm falling asleep that feel like what I assume a seizure would, but they barely last a second. They seriously jerk me awake, though, and are very startling. What’s the oldest man-made object you own? I dunno. Is there anything you feel like you need a break from? Not really, no. What do you hate to hear people joke about? I will actually and remorselessly deck you in the jaw if you make a joke about rape. There are other things that are absolutely forbidden joking matters for me, too. What’s the largest animal you’ve seen in the wild? Hmmm... Nothing that big, really. Maybe a whitetail deer buck? Do any of your friends or family members have strange occupations? Not to my knowledge. Have you ever been in weather so severe that you feared for your safety? Oh yeah. We've had some savage thunderstorms. What political issues are the most important to you personally? LGBTQ+ rights and just equality in general, the pro-choice movement, environmental conservation, gun control, the abolishment of poverty and homelessness... There is honestly a lot. I could keep going. Do you know anyone who doesn’t know how to cook even just simple recipes? ... Me. :x Especially now that I'm in a relationship, I really want to make a greater effort to learn. I want to prove to him I give a damn about the success of our relationship and that I'm capable of being an adult that can take part in general adult responsibilities. ^What’s stopping them from learning this basic life skill? Laziness. Forgetfulness. The fear of getting burned. What small thing makes you automatically distrust someone? I can pick up on sketchy body language from a mile away. I'm too paranoid not to. Of all the states/provinces in your country, which one is your favorite? At least from photographs I've seen, Utah appears BEAUTIFUL. That whole region of the U.S. in general. Are there any obscure foods you’ve eaten that most people have never tried? That's very unlikely. I'm far from explorative with food. When you travel to other countries, do you always try the local cuisine? I've never been outside the U.S. I would probably do that, though. I'd really want to experience the culture as thoroughly as I could. What did you do for your 19th birthday? Hell if I remember. What’s the kindest thing a total stranger has done for you? I remember as a young kid, my parents, two sisters, and I were getting food at McDonald's, and whoever was in front of us paid for our meals. Such a sweet gesture for a larger family. Have you ever used a meal kit delivery service? No, but there actually is one that I can't recall the name of that I'd like to try when I cook myself, especially getting started learning, but yeah, subscription fees. You see a lot of YouTubers get sponsored by them, if that rings a bell. Do you have any psychological issues rooted in events from your childhood? Possibly my fear of men, with my dad having been an alcoholic that had a 50/50 chance of being very angry when drunk. How organized are the files on your computer? Pretty organized, I'd say. I put stuff into folders. Would you date someone with braces? Yes? Do you ever rehearse conversations before you have them? Only always. Do you get angry at yourself or at others more often? Myself, for sure. When taking a cab, do you talk to the driver? I've never even taken a cab. Who or what greets you at the door every time you come home? Nobody, really. My cat is occasionally in the living room to see who's home, but not always because he's a lazy cat, ha ha. Do you ever chat about your favourite video games with your friends? Not really, no. I wish. Have you ever supported anyone’s Kickstarter? If so, what was it? No, bc I'm poor. Are you currently studying a language? If so, which one? No. Ever had a friend online for a long time without seeing a photo of them? Yeah. Do you carry pepper spray? No, but I want some 'cuz I'm paranoid as hell. Are you waiting on anything right now? No. Have you ever been described as shy? Is it true? Oh, always. It's absolutely true. Name something you’re a complete sucker for? Baby animals, to name one thing. Do you remember when you first went on the internet? Nope. What is one way someone could completely put you off on a first date? Arrogance/over-confidence. What about a way someone could make you like them more on a first date? Make me genuinely laugh a lot, to name one way. Are you in love right now? Not yet. I love him with our decade of history, but I need more experience as a couple before I've got the confidence to say that. Do you wanna get married anytime soon? It wouldn't be smart to. I want to be in a strong relationship for quite a few years before I want that. Have you ever kissed someone in a band? No. Has someone ever made you a Build-A-Bear? No but oh my fucking god I wish!!!!!! Did your mom or dad ever put soap in your mouth? No, but Mom would threaten to. What was the last fruit you ate? Well, I had strawberry yogurt earlier today. Who was the last person to make you laugh? Girt. He is very, very good at that. Have you ever dated someone with more piercings than you? No. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Hell yeah man. Is there one night of your life you wish had never happened? I wish it hadn't happened the way it did. Do you have a close relationship with your sibling(s)? No. What was the last thing that you shared? Some watermelon Sour Patch Kids with my mom. Do you think people talk behind your back? You couldn't get me to believe my mom doesn't at least sometimes to my sisters even if you tried your absolute damnedest. In real life do you laugh like ‘haha,’ 'hehe’ or something else? It depends on what I'm laughing at/at what intensity. Do you have any unusual skills? Nah. Who’s your favourite person? I don't have a sole favorite person. I love many people in different ways for varying reasons. Are there any chores you actually enjoy doing? No. When did you last have an "Oh, I get it now!" moment? Watching Attack on Titan yesterday w/ Girt. Have your parents ever suspected something untrue about you? My mom HAD to have suspected I was doing something FAR worse than innocent meerkat RP to have borderline fucking traumatized me invading my privacy and forcing shit out of me regarding what I was always doing on the computer so secretively. Like I get it, she was a concerned mother, but I was a fucking WRECK because I found it so embarrassing. It was insulting that she didn't trust her well-behaved daughter. What do you think about video games? They're great for both the creators and consumers. They're wonderful expressions of creativity, and so much fun to experience as a player, delving into a new world and getting engrossed in the story. I could go onnnn and onnnnn about what video games mean to me. I've gone my whole life as a loyal gamer. Are there any forms of Art you personally find pointless? I really, really don't get a lot of abstract art that's worth fucking thousands, BUT, I absolutely disagree that they are without purpose. The artist created what they did for SOME reason. As a distraction, a method of expressing emotion, to convey an idea... Are you tired right now? I have been SO ridiculously tired today. Like it's unreal. I've taken I wanna say three naps and I'm still sleepy. What’s something you do a lot? Drink something. I'm not talking about alcohol; just in general, I ALWAYS need some kind of drink by me, and I go through drinks pretty quickly. Are you currently on any other websites? Yeah, I'm watching YouTube. Are you good at using Photoshop? I'm decent, I guess. Have you ever been told you naturally tilt your head a certain way? Yes, actually, at least by my mom, and she's right. My head tends to tilt VERY slightly to the right, and I can tell by how easy it is to bend my head that way as opposed to left. I'll feel a biiiit more strain.
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ajokeformur-ray · 4 years
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Never, never change // Joker x Reader // anniversary fluff.
Summary: You’ve been married to Joker for four months and it only makes you want to appreciate him in the corresponding moment of realisation. Luckily for you is Joker a sponge to all the things you freely give to him, and he’s left breathless by you and all the ways in which you make it known how deeply and reverently you love him.
A/N: Self-indulgent self-insert because why not? asdfghjkl; 😭🥺🥰💖🌷 we got married 26.3.2020 and the fourth month slipped past almost unnoticed. So, fully embracing being That Person, I wrote a small something to celebrate! 🥰 I love him so much it hurts.
Word count: 1, 744.
He’s so cute I cryyy ;w; 😭😭😭😭
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You gasped loudly and almost dropped your large mug of coffee. “Holy shit!” You put your coffee down on the small table in front of you, your grip now shaky, excited and nervous. Would Joker care about what you had just realised? It was something so simple yet so weighted in new chances, newfound hope and in love, and you briefly wondered if Joker would laugh at you for having such a big reaction over something as silly as the day’s date.
At the sound of your dramatic gasp, a drama queen were you even when you weren’t trying to be, Joker jumped and his eyes darted wildly around the room, his face illuminated in the harsh blue glow of the television screen. Coupled with his painted visage did he look almost ghostly. “What? What is it?” He looked about ready to jump up from his seat beside you on the sofa, and you smiled at his vigilant reaction. Joker caught the smile on your face and he sunk back into his previous position, his green eyes fixed upon your face and a smirk playing on his lips as he realised that nothing was wrong.
No... no, something was right and he wanted to know. 
Joker wanted to know it now and he turned in his seat so that he could fully face you. You copied his movements and moved so that you were sitting cross legged on the sofa. Your fingers played with the gap between the two seats and you were so completely surrounded by Joker’s scent in this moment, saturated was the sofa in his scent from all the months he had spent sleeping on it, unable to move one way or the other because he would just fall off otherwise, so narrow was the sofa. Joker’s impatience was made known to you when he leaned forward a bit more so that he could rest his sticky, painted forehead against your own. “What is it, Y/N? Come on, tell me.” 
His soft rasp almost broke your already trashed and scattered heart and you cooed softly as you reached up to cup his face. You held him gently, not wanted to smudge his paint, but Joker, knowing you as well as he knew himself, pressed into your touch and you understood that he wanted to feel you against him. So you held him tighter and Joker leaned into you, nuzzling into you like a cat. His eyes never left yours and it was with the almost embarrassing and very familiar stinging of tears in your eyes that you said, “We’ve been married for four months today.” When Joker didn’t immediately respond, your grip on his face slackened and you began to pull away from him, worried were you that you were the only one who cared, that you were the only one who celebrated such tiny milestones. Four months wasn’t that long of a time to be with someone, not really, and your lives together had barely started, but to you... to you, every second that you got to spend basking in Joker’s love for you was worth all of those lonely years, all of those tear filled nights when you could only sit in a soul deep yearning for something you couldn’t name. Indeed, some nights did you still experience this feeling, but with Joker was everything just a little easier to bear. Your soul hadn’t breathed a single breath until the day you had first seen Carnival twirling his sign on that crowded, busy street in Gotham. Joker was your soul’s oxygen, your heart’s reason, and your mind’s medicine.
Catching quickly onto your insecurities, well known and familiar to Joker were they, Joker refused to let you let go of him and he grabbed your hands and pressed them back onto his face, his fingers linking with yours so that, while you could still pull away from his grasp, you would have to really try to do so. Both of you knew that you never wanted to let go of him, for even a moment. You were a very affectionate and clingy couple; you were always touching in one way or another. Not only did it ground Joker in the moment in reality as well as reaffirm your continued existence to him, but it also kept you calm. Your world crumbled when your Joker wasn’t with you. “No, don’t let go, Y/N,” Joker’s green oceans calmed your own stormy waters and you felt your heart rate begin to slow as you realised that he did care; you had just startled him, was all. “Are you - is this real, Y/N? Have we - have we really been ma-” A broken laugh climbed out of his throat and Joker clamped his lips shut and turned his face away. You allowed Joker that space to gather himself, your hands still joined upon his face, and when he turned back to you were there tears in his eyes. 
Easy was it and natural was it for you to wipe his tears away and your grip slid off his face. You held both of Joker’s hands with one of your own as the other dashed his tears away. “I’m as real as you are, angel.” In the face of his overwhelming disbelief did your own tears slip down your cheeks and Joker giggled; you cried so easily and for every laugh that Joker had did you have a type of crying to match, and Joker knew all of your cries as well as you knew all of his laughs. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to be wiping each other’s tears away, and this was how the next few moments were spent, your hearts so full of love and your eyes so full of tears which expressed that love, for it was overwhelming, completely bigger and better than your own selves and no literary great could ever adequately put it into words, even with the use of celestial terms and with time on their side. “I can’t believe it’s been four months already...”
Joker made a contemplative humming noise as he smoothed your hair back from your face, his thumbs deftly wiping away tears which continued to fall. “I know.” His voice was thick with emotion and he leaned forward to kiss your forehead. His lips remained against your skin as he said, “How did I ever get so lucky?”
You smiled unhappily and Joker, attentive was he, caught the movement. He rubbed his forehead against yours, smearing white and blue across your clear skin as he sought to wordlessly comfort you. “I ask myself the same question every day, darling. How did I get so lucky? I look at you sometimes and... then I look at me and I just don’t...” Joker’s high pitched giggle cut you off and he tipped his head so that he could kiss you. His lips trembled against your own, so emotional was he in this moment, and tensions quickly mounted and grew as the kiss became more passionate, fiery in its intensity. You were pushed back so that your head rested on the arm of the sofa and Joker took up his familiar and comforting position atop you as your clown blanket. His scent completely surrounded you, as did the colour red, which had come to symbolise safety, love, passion and home for you. You could never sleep without the weight of your clown blanket on you and the red which surrounded you as a result, and you definitely couldn’t sleep without telling your husband that you loved him. It was okay if he didn’t say it back (he always did, even in the middle of a tense moment between the two of you), but it was an almost primal need for you to say it to him and to know that Joker heard you.
“Don’t you dare say that stuff about yourself. That’s my wife you’re talking about.” Joker’s tone was firm and it very clearly left no room for debate, so you only kissed him by way of dropping the subject; it was much better for you to do that, anyway. Joker could get very frustrated when you spoke down about yourself or didn’t treat yourself properly, and today was a celebration and not a need to gain or receive reassurance. “I love you, Y/N. So much.”
“I love you too, darling.” Your smile was such that you felt the need to cry and Joker only cooed as you did your best to not cry; sometimes the way you expressed yourself irritated you, though Joker continued to find it adorable. Joker leaned down and rested his face in the warm crook of your neck, and you allowed a few tears to fall down your face as you wrapped your arms around him and pressed yourself into your clown blanket, wanting him around all of you. “You’re my whole heart and my reason to wake up every day and try. You are... everything to me, Joker. I’d be so lost without you.” You almost said, please don’t get tired of me, but you stamped it down. This wasn’t the right moment to get into your insecurities.
So well did Joker know you, though, that he heard what you said but he listened to what you didn’t and that was why he said, “I’ll never get tired of my one and only, Y/N. I married you for a reason and I can’t - won’t imagine my life without you.” Joker pressed a kiss to your pulse point and then he settled in, making a show of getting comfortable atop you. Joker was there to stay with you in every way and you both knew it. “Happy four months, my angel.”
You smiled and Joker’s head shot up from your neck, so well did he know you, and his own resounding smile made your heart skip a beat and squeeze in your chest, your stomach swoop, and your mind go blank. You were still so in love with him and you knew that you always would be. “Happy four months, Joker.” A sleepy noise, a clumsy kiss, and Joker slept, so comfortable around you was he. And, well... your coffee was half finished but your eyelids were growing heavy and a nap never hurt anyone, right? Coffee could be reheated or remade but moments like this were priceless and irreplaceable, just like the two of you.
AF/J @impulsiveclown @astheworlddturns @fluffedstar @jokersqueenofchaos @germansarechill @tsukiakarinobara  @lynnesm @sagyunaro  @docsportello  @flowerglitterwoman @ben-solos-writing-avenger @jokers-doll @jokershyena @arthurjokersgirl @antonija89 @lilliryth @hotpacino @obsessedandthirsty  @call-me-harley-quinn
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barrysjumpsuit · 4 years
Text
the dark side - jj maybank x shoupe’s daughter, ch. 1
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w/c: 1.9k
summary:  catherine shoupe has the perfect life. when she gets hired by heyward to run groceries, she has a new coworker - jj maybank. as the deputy’s daughter, she can’t help but hate him. but when jj decides to bring her to the dark side and woo her over, cat not only has to hide her activities from her father, but also hide who she really is.
warnings: none for this chapter
a/n: i’m super excited for this! making it up as i go.... posting may be slightly delayed/irregular since i’m busy with working and moving but who knows i’ll probably waste my time and work on this more than i should
---
Cat’s feet and back ached, and the sun felt good on her cool skin as she stepped out of the overly air-conditioned grocery store she had been in since they opened that morning. She sat down on a bench in a shaded area between the store and a coffee shop, resting and enjoying her fifteen minute break.
The same thing. Every day, five days a week. Cat would be the opener for the grocery store, getting there at four in the morning and working until ten. It was smaller, a hippie fresh market type of place with fresh produce and organic products. Very Kook-y. It drew tourists and locals alike, as well as a bunch of people her age, working for grocery delivery services.
Morning shifts in the summer were nice because they drew more of the local crowd. The working class, like her, though still kooks. Moms grabbing their groceries after dropping their kids off at school, working professionals stopping by for premade sandwiches or donuts for their coworkers. That particular morning, her dad had stopped by for his own lunch and spent entirely too long chatting with her.
Cat enjoyed seeing people, asking them about plans for their days. She often suggested the best surfing spots and restaurants to the non-locals, while striking up easy conversations with the regulars that frequented the market in the mornings. After work she often took her brother out to the beach. It was her mission this summer to teach him how to surf. In the evenings, if her dad wasn’t working, she would help her mom cook dinner and they would have a big family meal. It was repetitive, but perfect and full of things and people she loved.
After her fifteen minute break was up, she went back inside, but her manager pulled her aside before she returned to her checking lane.
“Hey, Catherine, come see me in my office?” Mrs. Lee’s voice rang out. 
There was a brief nervousness that made Cat’s stomach roll over, but it quickly vanished once she saw the smile on the store owner’s face. “So you know Heyward, right?”
“Of course,” she answered, smiling at the thought. She knew the man and his son well - they were always in and out, buying groceries for their customers. “He’s awesome. What about him?”
“He and I are partners now,” she continued, obviously excited about the development. “He’s looking to hire some new people to deliver groceries. I know you love being out on the water and talking to people, so I figured I’d ask to see if you were interested. It’ll come with a bump in your pay, too.”
“Yes!” she said, perhaps a little too eagerly. “I’m definitely interested. Does he want an interview?”
Mrs. Lee laughed. “He said if you were interested, you’re on board automatically. He knows you’re a good worker. I’ll call him and let him know and get back at you, okay?”
“Sounds good! Thanks, Mrs. Lee,” Cat said, smiling back at her before leaving her office.
Going back to her checking lane was almost bittersweet, knowing that lane three had been hers for almost two years. As soon as she flipped her light back on, a local came through, eagerly starting up a conversation and letting Cat know how his son was doing in the summer little league baseball series.
After she got off, she cranked the AC on in her car and began the drive home. The place was flooded with tourists, the summer season officially in full swing. She lived right off the main strip, which was fun and convenient, but could get annoying when anyone and everyone was there. 
“Hey Cat!” her brother greeted her as she got home. He was sitting on the couch, watching TV.
“Hey Tyler! Want to go out for ice cream later?” she asked, and he nodded excitedly. “I’ll make us some lunch then we can go after that.”
“Okay!” she heard him respond as she jogged up the carpeted steps. She walked past her parent’s bedroom and then into hers, kicking off her shoes and changing into flowy shorts and a basic tee before going back downstairs to make lunch.
The rest of the day was pleasant and uneventful. After they ate lunch, she took Tyler to the ice cream place two blocks away. He got birthday cake while she got peppermint, enjoying the cool sensation on the hot day. They walked on the beach, her brother talking nonstop about the video game he was playing, while Cat smiled and faked listening.
She was really listening to the sound of the waves lapping at the store, and the voices of those who lounged on the beach. Some were playing in the ocean, some were playing games in the soft sand. 
Her father was off work at six, so once they returned home, it wasn’t long until her mother got off work and they started prepping dinner. Cat’s mom was laid back, always smiling, which she loved. She left her work at the office, unlike her father.
Being the daughter of a sheriff’s deputy was odd. Cat didn’t mind it. There were rules in place, of course, but she hadn’t any urge to break them. There were people from her school out doing drugs and drinking most nights of the week, but Cat had never touched any of that. She had a curfew, but she didn’t really mind it.
Her dad got home right before dinner was ready. He pulled Cat towards him, kissing the top of her head before kissing her mom on the lips. “How are my ladies this evening?” he asked, grinning. A patch on his uniform read Shoupe in bold letters, and he was still fully clad in his uniform.
“Pretty good,” Cat answered, stirring the sauce that was simmering on the stove. 
They made light conversation until her dad went to change out of his work clothes while Cat and her mom set the table and plated up dinner.
“How was work, Cat?” her dad asked when they were sat down and eating.
“It was good. The usual. But, I got a new job!”
“Oh?” her mom asked, taking a sip of wine and raising her eyebrows. 
“Heyward and Mrs. Lee are working together now, and Heyward needs runners. So he wants me. I get a pay bump too.”
Cat was smiling, but it dropped when she saw her dad’s face. Her mom noticed too, casting him a glare, and he spoke. “That’s great, honey. But be careful, okay?”
She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Her father hated her going near the Cut. Not that she had much reason or urge to, but she knew it could be rough down there. He often worked down there, on the south side of the island, and constantly told stories about shoplifting Pogues and underage drinking. “Dad, it’s Heyward’s. It’s basically Figure Eight.”
“I know, I’m just saying,” he said, raising his hands in surrender.
“Can you take me on the delivery boat sometime?” Tyler asked, luckily rerouting the conversation.
The issue was luckily dropped, but Cat still felt bad. She didn’t know why - she was seizing the opportunity, something her parents had always encouraged. Cat had been working ever since she was old enough. Her father always told her, a good work ethic is the most important thing you can have. They were urging her to save up for college, and now she was essentially being promoted.
Mrs. Lee had texted her during dinner. Heyward wants you to start tomorrow! Meet him at 9, wear whatever you want.
She responded to the text before settling down in bed with a book. At ten, before she went to bed, her father stepped into her room after knocking softly on her door.
“Hey, dad,” she said, and he walked over to sit on her bed. Cat pulled her feet up to give him some room and put her book down on her nightstand.
“I’m happy for you, Cat,” he said, smiling at her. “Just be careful, okay? With all the boat traffic now and going everywhere… Heyward’s a good guy. I trust him.”
“I will, dad. You know me. I grew up on the water.”
He smiled again. “Yeah, you did. Have fun tomorrow, okay? Good night.”
“G’night, dad,” she said as her father stood and left the room.
---
Cat woke up early, not used to getting to sleep in since she usually was at the grocery store before dawn. Her parents had already left for work, leaving Tyler in front of the TV as normal. She made a smoothie before changing into shorts and a t-shirt. 
“Bye, Ty!” she called as she left the house at 8:30, closing the back door behind her before heading to her car.
It was about a 20 minute drive to Heyward’s from her house. When she got there, she quickly located him on the dock, filling a gas can. As she stepped onto the dock, he gave her a wave, and quickly hurried over.
Heyward gave her an impromptu ‘training’. How to read the orders, how to use the boat’s navigation. It was simple, and she knew most of the people who had put in orders for that day. “Right now I have two people who shop and two of you who run and deliver together, each day,” he was explaining. “Here’s your work shirt, I don’t give a damn what pants you wear as long as your ass isn’t hangin’ out.”
He thrust three t-shirts of different colors towards her, each with the Heyward’s logo printed on it before taking her into the office to discuss her pay and scheduling. Since she was already in the system, it went by quickly, and she ran her printed schedule to her car and slipped into her new work shirt before returning to the dock. 
“There’s those sons of bitches getting back now,” he said, waving at two people who stood on a white boat pulling up to dock. “Catherine, go ahead and start carrying over the groceries in the cooler over there, time for your first run.”
She went inside the small building and started pulling bags out of the ice, full of produce and goods from her store. She noticed Heyward’s son, Pope, standing on the boat, and he held out his hands to take the bags from her to load.
“You working here now?” he asked, and she nodded. Cat had always liked Pope; they went to the same school until high school. He was quiet and witty, which she appreciated, and they had even sat together at lunch one year.
As soon as she finished handing Pope the groceries, she took his outstretched hand and climbed onto the boat.
“Hey Catherine!” she heard Heyward call. She turned to see him, grinning at her. “These are your new coworkers. Have fun.”
Pope grinned at her, but Heyward said coworkers. Plural.
A blond boy came into her line of sight, smirking. Cat’s heart sank as she recognized who it was, and she considered getting off the boat, but couldn’t bring herself to move or speak. It was someone she hadn’t seen in quite a while, and she was okay with that.
JJ was the first to speak up, his voice smooth and cocky. “Hey, kitty Cat, long time, no see.”
---
taglist:  @letsgofullkook @stargazingstarkey @sortagaysortahigh @jjsmentalpolaroids @ims0golden @jjmaybcnks​ @shawnssongs​ @queenk00k @broken-jj​
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hollyhomburg · 5 years
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You make me Happy
(Hybrid! Jungkook x Reader)(Drabble) 
Summary: When Puppy Jungkook finds out you’re depressed, he makes it his mission to make you happy! ...with a little help from the others.  Tags: Depression, references to not eating due to depression, night terrors, allusions to polyamory- specifically Hoseok x Reader x Puppy! Jungkook x Cat! Jimin x Cat! Yoongi W/c: 1.9k A/n: well- I sent this over text to @peeachypop last night at like midnight and then woke up and made it a full little Au! hope you guys enjoy it! happy birthday, Jungkook!
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Like okay, imagine puppy! hybrid jungkook who is a little nieve, and Doesn’t exactly understand how the world works cuz he grew up on a farm and never lived in a city until he was adopted by the reader. 
The city is so nice!!! With so many interesting smells and foods that make his mouth water and things that he hasn’t experienced like VR clubs and coffee shops and bars- not that he really ever gets the chance too because his new owner is a little bit of a recluse.
And you don’t really keep a lot of yummy things in their fridge but you let him order anything he wants! “Oh my god, this is the best you mean I can call talk to someone on the phone and then food shows up! That’s magic!” And maybe you don’t really eat a lot of it but like! Jungkooks never spent a lot of time around humans so he doesn’t immediately register it as an issue. 
And on the days that Jungkook manages to convince you to go out of your apartment it never lasts for long because the sick sticky smell of anxiety clings to you, and Jungkook can only tolerate so much distress from his owner before his protective instincts kick in and he takes you home. 
There are other things too, nights when you hold your head in your hands or he hears you crying in your bedroom. or how listless and sad you seem, how you seem to pull away some days and go silent or answer Jungkook’s many questions with one-word answers. 
there are better days too- when you take Jungkook to the hybrid park and seem genuinely okay for a little before you get bad again
he finds a few old photographs pushed in the back of a drawer- you smiling with a man who seems a little reserved. and when he asks you you snatch the photo from him and push it back away where you don’t have to think about him. “my ex” 
Jungkook is confused, “you mean your mate?” Jungkook doesn’t understand because aren’t mates supposed to be forever? he relays as much and you shake your head a small smile playing on your lips. “not usually, though if you’re lucky they are,”  
“Why did he leave? did he-” Jungkook tucks his chin in, suddenly embarrassed because you don’t talk about this- about why you don’t get out of bed some days and why you always look exhausted and worn out and shakey. “Did he leave because you’re sick?” 
and maybe it would have offended you before, but Jungkook is looking up at you with such worried eyes, so Ernest and careful. You hesitantly reach a hand up and rub over his ears scratching around the base of him, and his tail starts wagging up a rhythm against your couch. 
“I’m not sick Kookie I just have depression” and he tilts his head to one side because he Doesn’t know what depression is and you explain it like “it’s just when someone gets really sad sometimes or all the times okay?” he nods quick, because that he can work with, that he understands. 
Jungkook makes it his mission to make you happy. He’s just trying to be a good hybrid and he loves you so much, you deserve to be happy!
So he does everything to try to keep you smiling, doing more house chores and making up elaborate games to play with you. The day he takes a bath and starts blowing bubbles in the water (i mean have you seen those videos of german shepherds blowing bubbles and getting so happy and like yipping at it? that’s Jungkook) and you giggle so loudly that now every time you give him a bath he does it. 
he even starts to sleep in your bedroom too! because one night he hears you crying and can’t leave you alone. He whines and nuzzles into your cheeks, licking away your tears a little and running a hand through your hair, because humans need pets too, and you actually let him comfort you, bury your head in his chest and sob. 
He knows enough that sometimes you just wake up in the middle of the night sometimes, has woken up to the sound of you crying and come to scratch at your door before you started to let him in. 
He starts sleeping in your bed and sometimes you grumble a little and hover, a few inches away not sure if he wants to cuddle, and he always snuggles up to you and grins, kissing your cheek and making you blush and smile shyly before you shut off the light. And on those nights when he can hold you close- safe from sadness in his arms- he feels accomplished, feels like he’s making you better. 
Sometimes he knows he fails. sometimes you wake with shadowed eyes and immediately go back to sleep no matter how Jungkook tries to pull you out of bed. on those days he feels powerless and like he’s not making a difference at all. 
One day you take an afternoon nap because for some reason you’re just too tired today, and Jungkook decides that oh! He can go get you some snacks at the conscience store across the street! He’ll be back before you wake up and then you can wake up to something sweet. And maybe you’ll give him one of those small sleepy smiles and you’ll eat it in his lap while he plays video games in your living room. 
And he doesn’t really understand that hybrids aren’t supposed to be let outside in their own. It’s not exactly against the rules but like, if he was causing trouble he knows that he would be picked up by hybrid control. And though the shop keeper gives him a weird look, he lets Jungkook peruse the small isles of snacks for a few minutes before he comes over- it’s pretty quiet after all. 
Eventually, he asks him if he needs help and Jungkook is like all pouty because as much as he’s wracking his brain there are just so many choices and Jungkook doesn’t want to choose wrong. Jungkook explains to the shopkeeper, he looks like he would know. he’s got a kind smile and auburn hair that curls against his temples and a little enamel pin of snoopy and a little purple horse pinned to his work shirt.
“I don’t really know what my owner likes and I’m just trying to make her happy” and the attendant nods along like it’s the most pressing issue of the day, “I see, well you could always go for something sweet?” he smiles, and it’s so charming, so bright too, it makes Jungkook blush, and suddenly a lightbulb goes off in Jungkooks head. 
“I know what would make her happier!!! You definitely would!!!” Queue Jungkook dragging a confused Hoseok over to your apartment and you being shocked and concerned when you open the door (Jungkook forgot the code again) because you never thought Jungkook would like- bring in an actual stranger to your apartment to make you happy.
But Hoseok is so chill about it and just laughs it off “it’s okay really! I was gonna take my break anyway- and he seemed like really concerned about you too. And I have a hybrid of my own so I know how protective they can be/”
And he lingers in the doorway, before you offer him a cup of coffee- better than the stuff they make in the convenience store, and he accepts (luckily you favor the to-go cups when you have to go to work) and you sit and talk about his hybrid for a moment (a cute kitten hybrid named jimin who according to Hoseok used to pout for hours whenever Hoseok had to leave for work.) before he has to get back to work. 
 but before he leaves he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cookie package or something and he’s like, “oh yeah he said you like things that were sweet and I don’t have time to eat anyway! by the way, if you ever want to stop by and talk about hybrids my schedule is-” And maybe Jungkook sees the way you smile at Hobi and thinks “mission accomplished!” 
And takes you by the store whenever Hoseok works sometimes for ramen 4 times in the same shift. And of course, you meet his hybrid who ends up becoming Jungkook’s best friend! even though you remind him that like- best friends don’t help each other through heats and ruts, or kiss on the couch, to which Jungkook replies, “Then why did you and hobi sleep together after you went out drinking to celebrate his new job? and you help me with my ruts all the time and how are we not friends?” which makes you change the subject verry verry abruptly 
And then a few months into your sort of friendship Hoseok finds injured hybrid Yoongi in the alleyway behind the store and brings him to your place because its closest.
and then maybe months later when Yoongi has moved into your apartment and Hoseok has gotten a better job and actually moved into the apartment across the hall from yours (all so he can coe-own hybrid Yoongi with you- and not because like- he wants to be closer to his friend who he like might have a crush on). 
Maybe you’re just washing dishes or something with Jungkook drying them and putting them away, and both kind of lamenting because its almost been a year since you adopted Jungkook. 
And Jungkook says something about the time you used to be sad because like- thankfully you’ve gotten a lot better, and he’s a little wistful and a little insecure because he feels like it was all of them who made you happy and not Jungkook. 
And he says something like “well the others are what makes you happy so I don’t know why you’d want to go on a date just us too on the night that Yoongi and jimin are going out to a movie with hobi,” 
and you’re like stunned, because you thought Jungkook knew how much he meant, you’re instantaneously like “Jungkook, you make me happy all the time, without even meaning too, everything you do makes me happy, even when you just like, sit next to me on the couch or hold my hand I’m happy” 
and Jungkook just legit bursts into tears and pulls you close, because really- he had absolutely no idea that he did and it makes him so over the moon. And he just like, happy cries into her shoulder and they sit for a while and end up going and getting chicken by the river or something for their date and to celebrate and Jungkook’s a little sniffly all night and holds you close because like yeah- you make him super happy too. 
and you know, no matter what happens with the others, as long as you have Jungkook you’ll be happy too. 
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five: I wanna be sedated
word count: 2751
warnings: contains swearing, mentions of guns, and extreme violence 
“Roz,” he murmured, stepping up to the side of her bed. “Fuck,” he whispered. “Look at ya. Ya look terrible.” 
Rosalind let out a breath, fighting her laugh off. “Thanks.” 
“I can’t believe this happened,” he mumbled, pulling a chair up beside the bed. “Who did it?” 
“I don’t know,” Rosalind shook her head. “Lots of people want me dead.” 
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Rosalind spent the week, wracking her brain over ways to escape the situation with Mario. She couldn’t find a single way and it drove her insane, clenched fists and swear word insane. 
She felt that way toward everything and everyone. When Luca came over to her apartment, Rosalind felt the urge to hit him, so she did, punching him in the nose. Luca stumbled back against her bedroom door, holding his nose. Rosalind swung again, this time for his stomach but Luca grabbed her fist, pushing her backwards. 
“Fuck you!” Rosalind yelled, stumbling on her feet. 
“Fuck you!” Luca yelled, wiping his bloody nose on the back of his hand. “What’s your problem? I come in to get you out of bed and clock me?”
“I didn’t ask you to come here,” Rosalind seethed, feeling the anger bubble up inside of her again. “And I’m sure as fuck not going out tonight to sit around with you pathetic fuckers.”
“You listen to me,” Luca snapped, stepping towards her, hand wrapping around her throat. “I don’t care if you’re my boss or not. You put your fucking hands on me again and you’ll be wearing cement fucking shoes.” 
Luca let her go. Rosalind fell back on the floor, clutching her throat. She coughed, eyes squeezed shut. Luca shook his head, disappearing into the bathroom to grab a wash rag. 
“Get dressed. We’re going to Al’s,” Luca told her, heading for the door. “I’ll be in the car.” 
Rosalind picked herself up off the floor, wiping the tears from her eyes. It wasn’t that she respected Luca. They were blood, grew up together. She knew Luca would kill her, he meant his words, always. 
Rosalind didn’t own her words. Hardly ever. Most times her words were just words, no actions behind them. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. 
It didn’t take Rosalind long to get ready. She pulled on clean clothes and brushed her teeth, deciding it was good enough. She adjusted her jeans, slipping her gun in the waistband. She put clutched her phone with her cigarettes and her lighter, stepping out of her apartment. 
Luca was waiting for her, as he’d said. He was halfway through a cigarette, Ramones on the radio. Rosalind slid into the car wordlessly, shifting in her seat. “Ready?” Luca asked, looking over at her. 
“Considering that I don’t want to fucking go,” Rosalind snapped.  “No, I’m not ready.”
Luca let out a sigh, putting the car in reverse. “Rosalind, I’m only telling you this because it’s been brought to me by... others.” 
“What?” She asked, eyes narrowing at him. 
“It might be a good idea to talk to someone,” Luca suggested, choosing his words carefully. “Your anger seems to have gotten bad again and-“
“I don’t need to talk to anyone,” Rosalind cut him off, shaking her head. “And the fact that you would even suggest that is-“ she cut off with a shaky laugh. 
“You’re acting out of anger always,” Luca shook his head. “I mean, you punched me in the face, for what?”
“You pissed me off,” Rosalind mumbled, sitting back in her seat, turning her head to look out the window. 
“Well even so, it’s the actions that follow the anger,” Luca explained. “A hot head isn’t a bad thing but when you get too hot you can say or do things you regret.”
“I’ll think about it,” Rosalind told him, though she knew she wouldn’t. “I haven’t had time to get to the gym. That’s where I work through it all.”
“I know,” Luca agreed. 
Rosalind lit her own cigarette, taking a slow drag. She relaxed against the seat, feeling grateful Luca dragged her out of the apartment. She’d go and have a few drinks, let her hair down. Maybe she’d find someone new to take home. 
As soon as they pulled into Al’s, though, Rosalind felt a surge of anxiety bubbling in her belly. The kind of existential dread she hadn’t felt in years. Rosalind shifted in her seat, looking out the window. “I don’t think I should go in there.” 
“Don’t fuck around,” Luca muttered, turning the car off. “Get out of the car.” 
Rosalind did, stepping out of the car. The gravel crunched under her boots. She felt another surge of the dread, as they walked toward the door of the bar. 
Luca pulled the door open for her and Rosalind stepped in, a breath escaping her lips at the atmosphere. The loud music made her heart race even harder. Luca nodded toward their table in the back and nudged her to walk. 
Rosalind pushed her way to their table, eyes darting around, unable to focus on a spot for too long. Finally, she slid into the booth, shoulders bumping into Maria’s. She exhaled, hands pushing through her hair. 
The Ramones began to play out of the speakers. Rosalind’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked around. Her mind began to race, the possibility that something bad was going to happen. 
“Everything alright?” Maria whispered into her ear, a warm hand on her thigh. 
“I gotta get out of here,” Rosalind shook her head, standing up. 
Rosalind pushed her way back through the crowd until she pushed the front doors open, stepping out into the fresh air. “Fuck,” she whispered, looking around. She was alone. 
Rosalind leaned against the building, pulling out a cigarette. She’d barely gotten her lighter out when the car pulled up, sleek and black with tinted windows. Instinctively, Rosalind reached behind, fingers wrapping around her gun but it wasn’t quick enough. Two shots, both in the stomach.
Rosalind fell forward, gasping at the blinding pain, her gun falling onto the concrete beside her. The club doors opened and there was Maria, by her side, hand on her back. 
“Roz,” she cried, pushing the hair from her eyes. “Fuck,” she mumbled, scrambling for her phone. “Fuck talk to me, Roz.” 
But Rosalind was losing it, vision going dark, the pain was too much. It was blinding, searing through her body in a way that made it so easy to closer her eyes. 
Just before Rosalind lost it, she could hear the voices of all her men. Luca, Jonny, Gio and Alonzo. In that moment, though, she pictured her alternate reality where Niall was pushing his fingers through her hair, lips on her neck, where she wasn’t bleeding out in front of a bar that Luca said was safe, where she wouldn’t be wondering if it was Niall who did this to her. 
In the time after Rosalind lost consciousness, the ambulance arrived. The paramedics pushed everyone away, giving Rosalind the air she’d been longing for. 
Rosalind was a fighter, unwilling to go out without a fight and just a little bit of drama. In the ambulance, her heart stopped twice, and her blood pressure dropped as the paramedics tried to stop her bleeding. 
//
Rosalind’s eyes fluttered open as she took a gasping breath. The tube down her throat sent her into shock, chocking. She had to close her stinging eyes. Just as fast as the feeling hit her, it went away. She opened her eyes to the nurse, her intubation tube in her hands and a bright smile on her face. 
“Ms. Civella, we are so glad to have you back,” the nurse murmured, adjusting her pillow. “Quite a scare you gave us.”
“Always the theatrics with this one,” Luca murmured from beside her. “You ever pull that heart stopping shit like that again, I’ll kill you myself.” 
Rosalind tried to smile but she felt so weak, eyes fluttering a bit. A hand slid into hers and she didn’t have to open her eyes to know it was maria’s ice cold fingers. 
“Rosalind don’t worry we’re gonna get the guys that fuckin did this. I’ll use my bare hands to kill those fuckers,” Alonzo said, a heat to his voice that Rosalind loved to hear. 
“Alright,” the nurse said, quieting the room. “Give her some quiet, would ya? She’s in lots of pain.” 
Rosalind found it in her to open her eyes again.  Her throat was too raw to talk. She wanted to scream though. She wanted to claw her way out of her body because it didn’t feel like hers anymore. It felt disgusting and gross with the stain of someone else’s sin. 
The days moved slow, a blur of blinding pain and a room full of people that were hellbent on talking up a storm. Rosalind listened to it, though, not quite ready to talk back to them. 
Only when the room emptied, did the nurse come in, her bright smile making Rosalind feel some type of way. She smoothed her blankets out and checked her vital signs. “Now it’s been nearly a week,” the nurse said. “Have you tried talking, yet? Are we sure the cat hasn’t got it?” 
“W-we’re sure,” Rosalind mumbled, voice scratchy. 
“Ah,” the nurse smiled, straightening up. “You’re secret’s safe for me just as long as I can share one with you.” 
“Okay,” Rosalind nodded, looking up at her. 
“There’s a man who’s been coming around,” She told Rosalind. “Dark hair, blue eyes and worry lines that look permanent.” 
Rosalind hummed, nodding, “we’re not supposed to see each other.” 
“Well I think you should see each other,” the nurse said. “Maybe tomorrow before your room fills up. It’ll be our secret.” 
Rosalind gave her a smile, eyes falling to her bedsheets. Visions of their last encounter replayed in her mind and it wasn’t good, they words they’d said. Rosalind didn’t mean it. 
She thinks if she really saw him, she’d tell him that. Rosalind would tell Niall that she’s sorry- really sorry this time and she’d give him anything he wanted. 
That felt like alternate realities, though. Rosalind turned the television up, shifting only slightly. She learned that movements too quick clenched her stomach in a way that made her feel like vomiting. 
The pain dulled with the drugs they’d given her. Just Tylenol, she said, adamant on not receiving anything that would fuck with her. It was painful and excruciating but Rosalind wanted it that way. 
“Every day the pain gets better little by little,” the nurse told her and Rosalind didn’t believe it. 
Mentally, Rosalind wasn’t okay. She replayed the events of that night over and over in her mind until tears pricked in her eyes. It didn’t make sense in her mind, the way she felt like something bad would happen. It shouldn’t have happened like that. 
The police came nearly everyday, asking Rosalind new questions, the same questions, and questions that didn’t make sense to her. They were saying it was just a drive by but drive by’s have a reason. Someone wanted her dead, and she’d find them and kill them herself. 
Nothing prepares Rosalind for what she felt laying eyes on Niall. It was early in the morning, Rosalind was barely awake when her door opened and shut quietly. Her eyelashes fluttered as she watched him. Her instinct was to cry but she didn’t.
“Roz,” he murmured, stepping up to the side of her bed. “Fuck,” he whispered. “Look at ya. Ya look terrible.” 
Rosalind let out a breath, fighting her laugh off. “Thanks.” 
“I can’t believe this happened,” he mumbled, pulling a chair up beside the bed. “Who did it?” 
“I don’t know,” Rosalind shook her head. “Lots of people want me dead.” 
Niall hummed, reaching out for her hand. “I wanted to come sooner. To see you. I just...” he trailed off. “Didn’t know if you wanted me to. If I should if we’d be caught if I did.” 
“So many ifs,” Rosalind commented, letting her eyes take in the sight of him, for real. His tired eyes and disheveled hair. 
In her alternate reality, it was Sunday morning. They were fighting over who would make breakfast this time. Niall thought it was her turn and Rosalind knew it was but she’d fight him on it until he offered to help her. And Rosalind knew they wouldn’t even make it out of bed before Niall peeled the layers from her skin to kiss her everywhere. 
“Did you hear me?” Niall asked, pulling her from her thoughts. 
“No,” Rosalind mumbled, rolling her head to look at him. 
“I said Sean has a letter for you. Should he bring it here or the shop?” 
“The shop,” Rosalind answered, not wanting to talk about business when her mind was full of things to say to him. “Luca’s acting right now. Till I’m better.” 
 “How long?” Niall asked.
“A month. Maybe more. Soon as the wounds heal I get to do PT,” she said, shrugging lamely. “Lots of waiting around.” 
 “When can you go home?” 
“Soon,” she murmured, looking up at him. “You gonna come see me at home?” 
Niall let out a hum, shrugging his shoulders. “Dunno if we’re like friends again.” 
“We’re always friends,” Rosalind told him, urgently. 
“I...” Niall trailed off, swallowing hard. “I don’t want to fight with you like we did before.” 
“I feel like you want more from me than I can give you,” Rosalind admitted, letting the words roll off her tongue despite how sour they were. 
“What just an ounce of kindness is out of your range?” Niall asked, eyebrows raising. There wasn’t heat in his voice but Rosalind wished there was. 
“If I’m nice to you, you’re going to fall in love with me,” Rosalind told him, voice quiet. “And I can’t have you falling in love with me. I’d have to kill you.” 
The irony almost swallowed Niall whole. He nodded his head slowly, not having it in him to argue with her words. Though, he was almost sure he was already in love with her, and he was one hundred percent sure he’d die of it anyways. 
Rosalind wasn’t in love with him, but she didn’t know what love was. She can’t recall a time in her life where she’s ever been in love but it always took her a while longer to catch on. 
“Well I’ll come visit you, then,” Niall finally decided. “As friends. No funny business, of course.” 
“Until I’m better,” Rosalind clarified, eyes shifting away from him. “If I’d known my last orgasm was my last orgasm I would’ve made it count for something.” 
“If only you’d know,” he agreed, shifting in his seat, checking his watch. “I should go.” 
Rosalind nodded, watching him stand up. Niall slid the chair back away from the bed, straightening up. “Call me when you come home. I’ll come over.” 
“Okay,” she murmured, the apology she wanted to give him on the tip of her tongue as she looked at him looking at her. “I’m sorry,” she told him. 
“It’s okay,” he shook his head. “I’m sorry too.” 
“I’m going to talk to someone,” Rosalind told him, fingers twisting into the sheets, eyes darting away from him. “About my anger.”
“Wow,” Niall murmured, almost astonished. “That’s good, Roz. Something to be proud of.”
But it felt like Rosalind’s weak spot. Saying she gets too angry, can’t even control herself let alone the people that work for her.  Rosalind nodded her head, though, looking up at him. 
Niall’s feet were glued to the floor, just staring at Rosalind. He couldn’t tear himself from her just yet. Rosalind’s tongue was heavy in her mouth with the weight of everything she wanted to say to him. 
Niall leaned toward her, brushing the hair from her eyes. Rosalind’s eyes fluttered at his touch, just the pads of his fingertips had her longing for more. “Hey Roz,” Niall said, voice crackling. He cleared his throat, not awaiting her response when he asked, “can I... can I kiss ya just-“ he sighed. “I missed you so much.” 
Rosalind nodded, looking up at him. Niall leaned down, tilting her chin up. He licked his lips, exhaling out of his nose before catching her lips in a gentle kiss. Rosalind whimpered against his lips, eyes slipping shut. 
The kiss was short lived, Niall pulling away to brush his thumb over her bottom lip. “Feel better, Roz, okay?” 
“Okay,” Roz mumbled, nodding. 
“If there’s anything you want me to.... take care of,” Niall told her, heading toward the door. “Let me know.” 
Rosalind nodded, watching him leave. The absence in the room beside her felt like it’d eat her alive. She closed her eyes, shifting in bed. She wished she told him everything when she and the chance. 
//
taglist: @swasanfrancisco​ @halluciniall​ @coconutdawn​ @exoticniall​ @missy14us​
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mollymirror · 3 years
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m o l l y   l e n o r a   p r e w e t t
basics:
name: molly lenora prewett. pronunciation: maa·lee lehn·aw·r·uh prewet·t. meaning: molly- sea of bitterness, star of the sea, rebellion. lenora- sun’s rays. birthday: october 30th. age: nineteen. pronouns: she & her. sexuality: heterosexual. siblings: fabian prewett, gideon prewett. parents: peter prewett & melody prewett nee macmillan. other family: . languages: english. irish. current residence: arthur weasley’s flat. hometown: galway.
wizard fun:
hogwarts house: gryffindor. year of graduation: 1979. occupation: part-time seamstress at twilfitt & tatting. pet: a cat named lavalump, but known as dubby. two pet chickens named cherry cola and nilla wafer. blood status: pureblood. species: witch. patronus: elephant. elephants are traditionally considered a symbol of good luck, wisdom, fertility, and protection. the elephant is also associated with offering energies of protection, love, loyalty, and quiet courage. people with elephant patronus are brilliant and often make excellent researchers or scientists. these people have deep emotions and will respond to those feelings from a place of inner knowing. the family is essential to them, especially the very young and the very old. folks with this spirit animal always have a soft spot for the weak and the helpless. loyalty is the elephant patronus’s strong suit, and they remain loyal despite challenging circumstances in all situations.  boggart: the idea of her family hurt and her unable to do anything to help. recently, the idea that something could hurt her children, too. amortentia:   butterscotch.  molly will happily add butterscotch to anything. she is certainly convinced there is nothing better tasting in this wide world.  fresh laundry.  chores were always something that molly was expected to do, but she was happy to help. laundry fast became her favorite thing to do. she finds folding it to be a good way to calm her nerves.  apple.  the smell of apples always bring her back to baking or to the orchards that grew not far from the house or eating on a hike or snacking away the afternoon. no matter what, they always bring her back to a happy memory. wand type: 11″ alder wood, unicorn hair, unrelenting.  alder is an unyielding wood, yet I have discovered that its ideal owner is not stubborn or obstinate, but often helpful, considerate and most likeable. whereas most wand woods seek similarity in the characters of those they will best serve, alder is unusual in that it seems to desire a nature that is, if not precisely opposite to its own, then certainly of a markedly different type. when an alder wand is happily placed, it becomes a magnificent, loyal helpmate. of all wand types, alder is best suited to non-verbal spell work, whence comes its reputation for being suitable only for the most advanced witches and wizards.  unicorn hair generally produces the most consistent magic, and is least subject to fluctuations and blockages. wands with unicorn cores are generally the most difficult to turn to the dark arts. they are the most faithful of all wands, and usually remain strongly attached to their first owner, irrespective of whether he or she was an accomplished witch or wizard.  affiliation: neutral.
appearance:
height: 5′3″. hair color: honey russet. eye color: hazel. typical hair style: a loosely curled bob is the most frequent hairstyle that molly sports. the next most frequent is two buns on top of her head. she loves pigtails and plaited pigtails too. she does like to experiment with different ways to wear her hair, though, and likes to use a lot of clips and ribbons.  fashion style: molly fashion a good bit of her own clothes. she wears a lot of knits and denim. she prefers things to be in warm colors and has a preference for stripes, overalls, and soft textures. she wears clogs or sneakers most often. molly tends to prefer shorts and skirts to pants. a lot of hand-me-downs have been incorporated and refashioned in her wardrobe, too. she loves to wear baseball caps. overall, she definitely has a bit of a tomboy look. [ fashion ] distinguishing features: molly is perhaps best known for her red hair and remarkably friendly face. her eyes are very kind and she smiles more often than not. she has freckles over her nose, cheeks, and shoulders. she has scars on her elbow from falling out of a tree, on her knee from jumping off a broom, and one on her hand from a baking incident. 
personality:
positive traits: genuine. maternal. nurturing. negative traits: anxious. busybody. temperamental. theme song: wildwood flower by the carter family.
headcanons:
when she was still living at home, molly’s room was littered with all sorts of stuffed animals. some hand made. she just loves them they’re so cute and fluffy and cozy. if anyone has ever gotten her one, she doesn’t have the heart to throw it out, and they sit in every available corner of her. they all have names, and the older ones have very defined personalities too. her favorite ones are on her bed. they’re the a-team. 
molly has the knowledge of incredible table manners. her mother spent a good deal of time teaching her how to be a polite member of society. however, molly doesn’t always put this knowledge into practice. it’s not that she’s purposefully rude. only that sometimes, her manners are forgotten in favor of elbows on the table. usually she isn’t bothered by anyone else’s manners unless they’re really, really bothersome.
on her own, molly can struggle to fall asleep. her anxiety often gets the better of her if she’s lying quietly in bed for too long. at home, it’s easily solved by putting on records (or if it was too bad the boys would sit with her). at school, she was more like to smoke so that she drifts off quietly.  now, she will wait for arthur to come and cuddle with her. once she is asleep, molly sleeps like a rock. there is almost nothing in the world that can disturb or wake her up.
biography:
the prewett family had never been the elite of pureblooded society. more often than not, they hovered somewhere near the middle. with enough influence that they could easily marry into the most ancient and noble house of black, but regarded by many to be less than due to their lax attitude about the strict purity of blood. the macmillan family had been treated little better. the distinction being that the macmillan’s wanted more. when a young melody macmillan expressed her desire to marry peter prewett, her father didn’t approve at first. the couple had to threaten to elope with one another before they finally relented and allowed them a proper ceremony.
they agreed that their family would not be focused on the power of a name, but the love they would share.
fabian came first. gideon wasn’t long after. hand in hand the prewett boys brought light into the world. the old country home was filled with laughter as they learned to talk and play and toddle about. their father often exclaiming that he didn’t know two things so little could cause so much of a ruckus with a hearty laugh. their bliss only grew more with the news that melody was pregnant once again.
molly lenora prewett was born the day before all hallow’s eve. the autumn leaves covered the ground in hues of scarlet and fiery orange. one twin says that it rained all morning the day that their little sister was born; the other twin says that he can remember the sun shining down on them as they waited for news on their mum. the only thing that they agreed on was that molly came in a little pink blanket, she was the loudest thing they’d ever heard, and they loved her entirely.
the young molly knew a life filled with blanket forts tied to every corner of the ceiling, baking pies on sunday evening with her mother, long walks out to the garden to help her father degnome the plots, a brother for each hand, mountains of stuffed animals, and so very many grass stains. it was a life filled with peace. it was a place where molly could be comfortably fearless. even as a little tot, molly recognized that her brothers would run into any fight without a second thought, but it would be a miracle if they remembered to tie their shoes first. it became second nature to care for the more obvious things they missed.
when the twins left for hogwarts, the house was noticeably quieter. molly got bored easily. without any traps to watch out for or presents to find, the suddenly singular girl had to find other avenues to focus her attention. she began to spend more and more time learning from their mother. molly learned to sew, to knit, to bake, and to brew what is universally regarded as a damn fine cup of tea. that time with their mother refined molly. it dulled the edges of her otherwise sharp temper and made her more receptive to where value can be found.
in the blink of an eye, it was her own turn to attend hogwarts. while she’d been nervous, molly wouldn’t let a soul see. fabian and gideon spent the entire night before ‘helping’ her pack her trunk with everything from the potted plant in the kitchen to lavalamp, her sweet kitten. it wasn’t until later that she realized they’d just been trying to distract her from her anxiety keeping her up all night. on the train ride to the castle, she wondered if she’d been in a house with one of them. it would feel weird not to be, but she suspected that she wasn’t quite clever enough to be in ravenclaw. the sorting hat seemed to agree. molly took her seat at the gryffindor table proudly.
molly was successful in school. she always managed to finish her homework and made good marks on her tests. there wasn’t any particular study that she outshined in than others with the sole exception of charms. there was no charm that little molly couldn’t figure out how to cast given enough time to practice. unlike her brothers, molly was perfectly content to stay out of trouble unless provoked. that being said, it was quite easy to provoke her. molly’s temper was legendary.
as the ominous clouds of war gather on the horizon, molly knows where her loyalties lie. her heart is with her family. however, she was never a warrior or soldier. molly held no interest in fighting or battles. she wanted to build a family and home like the one that she’d grown up in. she wanted to make sure that there was something worth fighting for in the end.
then she met arthur weasley. he was perfect. molly had never met a man in equal parts so brave, clever, and kind. she was always shocked to find that he wanted to spend time with her too. the two grew closer and closer. even when he left school, they continued to write. molly would look for simply any excuse to go see him during her breaks. it came as a shock to no one, but her, when he finally asked her to be his girlfriend. there was no other option, but yes, even though molly still wasn’t sure it was a title she deserved.
rather hastily into their relationship, molly realized that something had changed. several things actually. arthur seemed more distant. he disappeared for hours with little explanation. then came her morning sickness. then came a brand new panic. a child? arthur instantly asked her to come live with him, and molly agreed. it has been a few months, but she still has not told anyone else about the situation. not even her family. she barely has the nerve to mention her fears about the hours that arthur comes home. this is what molly had always dreamed about and yet, it felt out of sorts somehow. she isn’t sure what to make of it except to try and make the best of the situation. but how long can she be an island of hope in an unforgiving storm?
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flcwerborne-a · 3 years
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@ironlillies​​ asked:    [ confess ]  for your muse to confess their feelings to my muse.
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since their first meeting, melody has spent more and more time with the faerie queen, accompanying her to her realm and also inviting her to her house. sometimes they went on walks together and melody would point out some of her favorite things she always passes by on her way to work or on her walks alone. a pretty statue, a pottery store, some flowers growing in a planter in front of a store, all sorts of things! whenever edalina speaks, she always listens intently and whenever edalina points something out, melody always has a newfound love for that thing, even if it’s something she’s seen a hundred times before. everything feels so… fresh and new, like the beginning of spring. it’s all beautiful and lovely.
sometimes they talk for hours and hours about anything and everything in the world. she’s never… done this with anyone before. it feels good. edalina never seems to think of the little faerie as an annoyance, especially with her stutter, and seems as attentive of what she has to say as melody is of her. it feels so good. she feels somewhat less self conscious of her stutter when she talks to the queen and relaxes as a result of this. in fact, she’s often quite relaxed around her, like… like the walls she built around herself years ago have slowly come tumbling down, brick by brick. her guard is almost always down around edalina, and she feels…
melody searches for the proper word as she sits in her dining room. she feels lighter, but that doesn’t quite fit. not completely. she chews the inside of her cheek as she swirls the tea around in her mug, soon taking a sip of it as she still searches for that word, though she stops as she hears a knock on her door. it’s awfully late for anyone to be visiting her, isn’t it? melody checks her phone. 3:37 am. until now, she didn’t realize it was that late!
standing, she checks the peep hole and upon seeing that it’s edalina on her doorstep, she quickly unlocks the door and opens it, expression worried.    “ i-is— “    melody forces down the lump that formed in her throat. despite that sunshine-warm smile on edalina’s face, she fears the worst.    “ is e-everything o-okay? “    she manages to get the question out, heart fluttering in her chest. edalina’s smile just grows and she shakes her head.
“ yes, everything is just fine. good, in fact. “    she says softly and melody exhales a shaky sigh of relief before a small laugh leaves her.
“ o-of course, of course. sorry, i-i— i just—… i w-was w-w-worried. “    the little faerie admits quietly and bashfully, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.    “ well… d-do you want to come in? “    she steps away from the doorway and gestures inside her home. her cats don’t get up from the couch but daisy comes over to excitedly greet the queen. it makes melody smile. she doesn’t trust anyone that her pets don’t seem to trust or like. she’s glad that they do like her. melody likes her a lot, too. as edalina nods and comes inside, she closes the door behind her and melody returns to the kitchen.    “ do you w-want some t-t-tea? i-i’ve got peach, blackberry, b-blueberry, and s-some actual teas, like— l-like e-earl grey, green tea and chamomile. “
“ blackberry sounds nice. “
melody nods and refills the kettle with hot tap water before setting it down on the burner, turning the burner on and all the way up to high.    “ i, um, i h-hope that i don’t s-sound r-rude when i ask this, b-but what are you visiting me f-for? “    the little faerie gestures for edalina to sit at the table in the dining room. daisy gets comfortable on the floor beneath it, deciding to nap there. she always seems to like being where melody is.    “ i-it’s s-so— so late, after all. “
“ well, i could be asking what you’re doing awake. “
melody smiles bashfully again.    “ c-couldn’t sleep. “
“ nightmares? “
melody notices the concern in edalina’s voice and she shakes her head.    “ no. i-i just c-c-couldn’t s-seem to fall asleep. “    she hears one of the chairs creak as edalina sits and melody returns to the chair across from her, sipping at her tea again. truthfully, the queen had been on her mind. that’s why she couldn’t sleep, but for once, she doesn’t mind being awake because of her.    “ i-is th-there anything else i can g-get for you? something to e-eat? “
“ no, i snacked on my way here. “
edalina’s response earns a giggle from melody.    “ right, y-you always keep s-some f-f-fruit in the pocket of— o-of y-your dress. “    she thought it strange at first but grew to find it rather adorable. sometimes on their walks she would see edalina reach into her pocket to pull out a blueberry and pop it into her mouth, or a strawberry or a blackberry. it was so cute. it’s something she really loves about her. she... loves a lot about her, doesn’t she? melody glances up to see the queen watching her, a small smile on her face.
“ you’re really cute when you’re lost in thought, you know that? “
“ well, t-to— to b-be fair, you think that i’m a-always c-cute. “    melody’s gaze lowers and her hand rubs the side of her neck. she doesn’t know why edalina thinks that but she would prefer not to dwell on thoughts of self-loathing while the queen is here. there must be a reason as to why she’s here, right?    “ y-you d-didn’t answer my question, though. m-my first question. “
edalina remains silent for a moment longer. perhaps mulling over what she wants to say, taking a moment to get them right.    “ i like you, melody. a lot. as more than a friend. “
where melody had assumed the worst when she saw it was the faerie queen at her door, she certainly didn’t think she would confess to such a thing.    “ d-do you really? “    it’s all she can think to ask for a moment. the weight of the other’s words haven’t quite sunk in just yet, but it doesn’t take them long to, and her heart flutters and she feels rather giddy.    “ you… you r-really l-li-like m-me? “    melody had only begun to dream of this, of being with edalina. she had kept these dreams (and subsequent day to day thoughts) to herself, however, fearing if she mentioned them to her, she would only laugh. what a silly notion, right? a common little faerie falling for the queen of all fae. silly indeed. she felt it stupid to think that she would have a chance with the queen. maybe another faerie, but the queen? the queen? never, not a chance. and yet… here they are, here edalina is, confessing to her.
“ really, i do. “
melody’s heart flutters again with edalina’s words and a small, breathless laugh leaves her. she chews the inside of her cheek again and lowers her gaze. edalina speaks so softly and gently but so surely, too. sure. of course she would be sure. someone like a queen would have to be sure in her feelings, right? but it almost feels like melody is dreaming, like this isn’t real and something her mind would conjure because of the little faerie’s desire for something that is more than friendship. love. that’s what she wants. sweet, beautiful, pure, unadulterated love. a love that’s kind and good and soothing and comforting and patient and understanding… like edalina’s love.
“ i… i k-kind of realized something earlier b-b-be-before y-you knocked on my door. “    melody whispers, glancing up at edalina.    “ i’m s-sure the— the w-walls i built around my heart a-and— and a-around m-m-myself were always kind of obvious. but you s-s-slowly w-worked your way in. g-gently you plucked away e-each s-stone and brought down each w-wall and i… i d-didn’t even notice it until just r-recently. “    voice even softer, she says,    “ a-and i— i-i-i don’t even m-mind that it was you that b-brought all of them down. y-you make me feel so… “    again, she trails away to search for that word, glancing away as she does so.
her gaze lifts as she feels edalina’s hand resting on hers, giving it a gentle squeeze as though to tell her to take her time. with edalina’s touch, she finally finds it then. free. she finally finds the right word. like a bird that caged itself and was finally set free of its own confines.
“ ...free. “    she breathes that word out and she in turn gives the queen’s hand an acknowledging squeeze.    “ you make me feel f-free, edalina. “    and she feels a myriad of other things; loved, cared for, understood. most of all, like edalina really likes her and likes being around her, that she isn’t tiring to be around or an annoyance. her heart swells, full to the brim with emotion, and it soars. tears brim her eyes and she uses her free hand to quickly wipe them away. though more tears prick the corners of her eyes, melody smiles. it’s rare that she’s emotional in a good way.     “ sorry. i-i just n-nev-never i-imagined someone… someone m-m-making m-me feel this way. “    edalina would be her first, after all.
melody realizes then that she never returned the queen’s sentiments and a small but giddy laugh spills from her lips. she gives her hand another squeeze, smiling sweetly and genuinely.    “ i l-like you, too, edalina. i think i m-might even… no, i know it: i-i l-love you, edalina. m-more th-than anything in the world, i l-love you. “
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[ date? ]  for your muse to ask my muse to go on a date.
after their mutual confessions were made, the two sat in the little fae’s dining room for a little while longer, drinking tea and enjoying each other’s presence. her hand remained in edalina’s, thumb occasionally stroking her knuckles as they talked. every now and again, melody would get giddy again and her heart would swell with such wonderful emotions and she would smile.
edalina would ask about it and melody would only get bashful before, again, saying she’s just so incredibly happy — overjoyed — that the queen feels the way she does about her because melody felt the same way. she had just hesitated to tell her because she was afraid, but now she isn’t quite so afraid since edalina confessed first.
“ i-i’m g-getting pretty tired, but i— i’m n-not sure i can s-sleep! i-i’m j-just so excited. “    a soft giggle leaves melody and she finishes off her tea. it’s probably already at least five in the morning now! there’s no point in going to bed now, is there? she’ll have to be at work soon, though she’s tempted to call in sick, or maybe even tell mister hartley the truth. he would understand and no doubt be overjoyed for her. she could get a little sleep then…
“ you do look sleepy, but do you want to go on a date? not now, of course! but later, when you’ve had some sleep. “
melody smiles and nods.    “ i’d love to go on a— a-a d-date with you, edalina. “    she thought of asking her so many times if maybe, just maybe, she wanted to go on a date, but as always, felt afraid to. what if she didn’t share her desire for a date? what if she didn’t feel the same? but now melody doesn’t have to be so afraid of that possibility when now it isn’t one at all.
standing, she takes their mugs and drops the teabags into the trash before setting the mugs down in the sink.    “ i think i am g-going to try and— a-and g-get some sleep. “    she turns to face edalina, a gentle smile gracing her features.    “ d-do… do you w-w-want t-to sleep with me? i-i mean, n-nothing, well, m-more th-than that, of course! just… s-sleep. “    melody holds her hand out to the queen.
as edalina gently takes her hand, she says oh-so-softly,    “ i would love to sleep by your side, melody. “
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prospitdaydreamer · 3 years
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For u anon <3
HOOOOOOO ok i’m trying to gather all my thoughts
Ok so fair warning, a lot of these stories stem from like... 5th grade and some are revamped to not be as bad, but others I’m STILL working on so... it’s gonna be a littlw rough and they’re all rlly a little WIP (especially since I never finished Naruto.... so like a lot of the characters backstory might clash with the lore. But tbh these character’s entire existence clashes with the lore in the first place so rlly?? W/e i guess)
Ok ok here we go, i’m gonna put it under a readmore so I’m not assaulting everyone’s dash.
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Maku - (This is my most developed oc out of all, mostly because she’s my fave lmao) So, Maku is a runaway from her clan (I don’t have a clan name yet, but it’s gonna do smthn with cats lmao). Maku is the daughter of the head of the clan, so she was raised as a princess and the heir to the throne. However, her parents are not... great :/ They put a lot of responsibility and pressure on her, while her younger sister got to get off shinobi training early and hang with her friends. Despite this, she didn’t hold resentment for her sister and loved her very much, but she grew distant from her parents. Not long before her coronation, she actually ended up running away after having a breakdown from the pressure. She had no plan where to go or any money, but she felt finally free. Until she met Miyuka, who tried to sacrifice her to Jashin. She was able to make a deal that if she let her live, she’d help her find sacrifices. Somehow they became friends through that. They joined the Akatsuki together. I’ll definitely post more about her soon I’m sure!
Her Akatsuki partner is Miyuka, of course.
She got paired with Kakuzu. Their relationship is a very quiet one, but she doesn’t mind. She’s not like Miyuka, who is very touchy-feely. She just wants a relationship built on mutual respect. She treasures the nights where she’s curled up and warm next to him, while he reads whatever book he’s reading.
Special abilities and weapons: She inherited her clan’s kekkei Genkai. She’s able to transform into any species of feline, but the bigger the species, the more chakra it uses. As long as she’s able to maintain the form of the feline, she also gets it’s abilities ( e.g. if she’s a cheetah, she gets speed, lion gets far leaps, etc). Bonus fact: if she had stayed in her clan and became the leader, she would have been granted the ability to summon a catlike creature, much like the Sannin’s animals. However, since she dipped out, her sister got this connection instead. She doesn’t use weapons very often, her claws usually do the trick.
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Miyuka: I don’t have much down about Miyuka, but she was an orphan who was taken in by Jashinists, so of course she grew up to be one too. She met Maku while finding sacrifices and made a deal with her that if she’d help her get sacrifices, she’d be allowed to live. She actually grew fond of Maku because she was always respectful of her religion and practices. It was actually her idea to join the Akatsuki. Much like Hidan, she figured it’s a great opportunity to get sacrifices. She’s definitely hot, but don’t get too close unless you’re into knifeplay ;)
Her Akatsuki partner is Maku, of course.
She’s paired with Hidan, obv. They’re definitely under the impression that Jashin destined them together and they have NO problem showing that off to the world (Much to Kakuzu, Maku, and everyone’s disdain.)
Special abilities and weapons: Before meeting Hidan, she actually hadn’t unlocked her immortality. Hidan helped her unlock it and now they share that ability. Instead of a skeletal form, though, her form is more ghostly. She uses two sickles as her weapons.
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Gashiyo: Gashiyo actually wasn’t technically a shinobi, but her grandfather was and he taught her everything she knows about fighting. She lived on his farm her whole life, and she was very close with one of the cows, Yumi. She grew up with Yumi since she was a little calf. Because of her, Gashiyo grew fond of cows, and they’re her favorite animals. When she was 17, she met a boy who came to work on her grandpa’s farm, and they fell in love. They became attached at the hip, and spent a whole summer together. One fateful night, she awoke to ruckus. When she went outside she found her grandfather dead and Yumi too. Standing over Yumi’s body was the boy she had fallen in love with. Turns out he had been working for a local gang that her grandpa owed money to. She ended up killing him for what he’d done. Ever since, her heart grew cold and she became a very angry person. She joined the Akatsuki, since she had nowhere to go and she needed money. 
Her Akatsuki partner is Koki.
She got paired with Deidara. She found him extremely annoying at first, but he wormed his way into her heart. Because of her past experiences with love, it was very difficult for her to open up to him. She’s pretty waspy, but she’s grown softer since. He even made her a little clay cow (It was very difficult for him to resist the urge to blow it up, but he managed.)
Special abilities and weapons: Her stampede jutsu causes a stampede of bulls made of chakra to charge toward her opponents. She also has brass knuckles with bull horns on them.
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Koki: I honestly don’t have a backstory for her yet. I can tell you what she was like before I revamped her though. She literally just looked like Kisame, but a gorl lol. They were from the same village ig. Also she was a princess too excerpt it made no sense. I just wanted a princess (this was actually before i changed Maku’s story. She wasn’t originally a princess.) character i think. 
BUT i swear she’s waayyyy better now
Her Akatsuki partner is Gashiyo
She was paired with Kisame. If ever she had a weakness, it’s muscles. She saw him with his cloak off and it was OVER. Koki is anything but shy, and i think Kisame appreciated that. She doesn’t just like muscles on her men, she loves them on herself too! They often work out together.
Special abilities and weapons: She’s a puppet master, but her puppets are rather unusual. They’re more like little spider robots she’s infused with her chakra to do her bidding. She’s very fond of them, despite everyone finding them creepy. She usually uses small ones but she has them in all sorts of sizes.
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Shiitake: Shiitake used to be one of Orochimaru’s experiments. Because of this, she has amnesia and doesn;t remember much from before her time with him. She somehow got away and joined the Akatsuki to, hopefully, gain protection from him. In all honesty, she doesn’t really want to be there. Her heart was never one for murder or crime, but she doesn’t really have a choice. She’s very quiet and rarely speaks unless spoken to.
Her Akatsuki partner is Anara.
She’s paired with Itachi. When he found out she used to be one of Orochimaru’s experiments, they bonded over their experiences with him. He told her about how he was targeted to be one of Orochimaru’s bodies. Though they know they don’t have a lot of time together due to Itachi’s sickness, they still try to make the best of the time they have. ANd until then, he promised he wouldn’t let Orochimaru anywhere near her. He felt it’s the least good he could do for someone.
Special abilities and weapons: WIP, i literally have no idea yet. 
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Anara: I actually never came up with a backstory for her until like…. A year ago. Funny enough, her back story was inspired by Spinel’s from Steven Universe ( I kind of even want her to be voiced by Sarah Stiles too, but I suppose that’d be too on the nose! Still, that’s how I hear her voice). Anara never really knew what love was really like, considering her mother never cared for her much. Her mother never wanted to be a mom, but she met a man she really loved and he wanted a family. However, before Anara was born, her father died. Left as a husk from the depression of losing her lover and having a baby she never really wanted, her mom became very cold and distant. She kept her daughter alive, but that was about it. Anara tried very hard to make her mother happy, or really make her feel any emotion at all, but nothing worked. One day, her mother told Anara to stay home, and that she’d be back later. She left, and never came back, silently hoping maybe her daughter would just die. Well, she didn’t die. She eventually came to the realization her mother was never coming back for her, and she left that house and found her way to the nearest town where she was taken into the orphanage. She joined the academy to become a shinobi, but her heart was also in the arts. She performed plays for the other orphans, and loved the attention she received, the attention she craved. When she became older, she was both a shinobi and a theatre performer. Unfortunately, she still never really felt what it was like to be truly loved by someone. One day, she cracked from remembering the trauma of her mother and feeling like she may never receive the love she craved dearly, and ran away from the village, becoming a missing-nin. Tobi found her, and she became enamored with the mysterious masked man. She agreed to join the Akatsuki, hoping that he could fill the void in her heart. A chance to find a place where she belongs, whisked on an adventure by a mysterious masked man who promised to give her all she wanted? What else could a theatre girl want, lmao.
Her Akatsuki partner is Shiitake
She’s paired with Tobi, but it’s not clear if he feels the same or if he’s just using her. Doesn’t really seem to matter to her either way, she’s just happy to feel some sort of love.
Special abilities and weapons: WIP as well, lmao
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Kimako: Kimako isn’t a shinobi, but she is the daughter of one. She’s the only one who has a definite village right now, she’s from Sunagakure. Her story is the one that's probably the dumbest but I have a very strong attachment to it for some reason, so w/e. 
She has no partner.
She’s paired with Sasori. They’ve known eachother since they were little, as she lived close to him and their parents were friends. Her heart broke for him when he found out his parents weren’t coming home. She always had a crush on him, and he was ok with her, since she was always kind to him. When he became a shinobi, she stayed by his side to encourage him. She’d always been proud of him. Before he lost interest in emotions or w/e, he cared for her in his own little way. He even gave her a ring and promised to be hers. Her love for him was very strong, and when he ran away, she vowed to find him, no matter what it took. When she found out he had joined the Akatsuki, she did everything she could to find a way to join and get close to him again. She somehow succeeded, and she pleaded to join, despite having no fighting abilities. She said she’d do anything, and they took pity on her, and found SOME use for her (though i haven’t figured out what that is yet… wip). Once she was accepted and finally reunited with her love, she was devastated to find out he no longer had any feelings for her. All those years, wasted. Not only that, but she now was in debt to the Akatsuki and had to do work for them. Anara did her best to comfort her, so they kind of became friends, so that’s something. DOes Sasori ever regain his feelings? Maybe, maybe not. Guess we’ll have to see ;) Though I do think, for him, she’d agree to become a puppet too. If that was his price or smthn.
Special abilities and weapons: None, just one sad little broken heart.
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