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misfit-fics · 3 years

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Demon Rehab For Dummies

Summary: (Y/N) started seeing seven demons when she was 10. Through the years they all disappeared, all but one. Namjoon. A demon who has not so creepily, creepily, very creepily been in love with her for years.

Genre: fluff, crack, extremely minimal angst, idiots to lovers, romantic-comedy

Word count: 7384

Rating: Teen

Warnings: mentions of suggestive & kinky themes, a handful of cursing, a story with a plot but not doesn’t exactly have a plot, a stubborn (Y/N) who dismisses love confessions & genuine flirting, an unspoken confession

A/N: Hey! we're back, it's been a while. We're starting school in a while but it will be gamble if we'll be more active or not. Well... we ARE active but just not posting? Yeah, you know what I mean. This has been sitting in our drafts for a while now and we're posting it now... although it's pretty unedited, feel free to address any oopsies. Hope who ever finds this enjoys reading!

At the ripe young age of ten (Y/N) began seeing seven men. Which- would’ve (should’ve) freaked any kid out but you know (Y/N) is just kinda quirky like that so she didn't really mind much. The men were nice and played with her anyway, and the only weird thing was that sometimes they would bring her dead birds.

At age eleven (Y/N) noticed that one of the men was missing.It didn’t affect her much except for the fact that this particular one would help her find things and she’d lost almost all of her socks since he disappeared. Not to mention the increase of bug bites after he left. The darn things seemed like they multiplied exponentially after a month.

By twelve only two of the men had disappeared, at this point (Y/N) not only lived in sandals (she still couldn’t find her socks) but she also couldn’t explain why her hair was burning off every time she tried to straighten it (her lil demon friends didn’t want her to, you’d think after almost 3 years of having men following her around and telling her what to do she’d get with the program already.) Her dog her parents had given her when she was 9 started disappearing quite often after he left. He always came back with a single sock that would disappear the next morning.

By thirteen (Y/N) had developed a crush (more like unhealthy obsession) on one of the men, Namjoon. The third year was also the year when Jimin disappeared, taking all of her favorite shoes with him. That year she had prayed to whoever was listening because her parents really couldn’t afford to keep buying her socks and shoes, and because she definitely couldn’t afford to shave her head.

By fourteen, Hoseok, the man who had cheered her up whenever she needed it, had gone, leaving a tidal wave of bad luck in his wake. He had a great deal in keeping (Y/N) happy, although some of his antics made her want to punch him, it never turned out that way.

When she was fifteen no one left… except for the dog. Aside from that, the only thing that left was her social life (It wasn’t like she had one before but you know it was still a little rough). (Y/N) began to depend more and more on her demons. She had become great friends with the oldest, Seokjin, who cooked for her when her parents went on trips.

At sixteen Yoongi left and the nightmares began. And with the nightmares came the growth of (Y/N)’s relationship with Namjoon. Namjoon became her protector, along with sometimes Seokjin, who still cooked for her and cared for her altogether when she couldn’t.

At seventeen, (Y/N) was informed that when she turned eighteen Seokjin would be leaving, on account that they didn’t need each other anymore. (Y/N) had been torn up when he told her and even more when he left. He didn’t take anything when he left other than a piece of (Y/N)’s heart.

At eighteen, (Y/N) moved away from her parents house with Namjoon trailing behind her (He even had lil demon suitcases and everything,) following her every move.

“I really don’t understand why you had to follow me out of my parents house. I thought spirits are supposed to be attached to a general area…” (Y/N) took to unpacking a box in the small apartment she now lived in.

“(Y/N) how many times do we have to go over this, I'm a demon, DE-MON.” Namjoon clapped his hands with each syllable. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and flicked her wrist at the self-proclaimed demon.

“Demon, ghost, same thing.” She shrugged her shoulders, “same thing as to-may-to, to-mah-to.”

“It is not the same thing!” Namjoon looked at (Y/N) like it was obvious.

(Y/N) snorted, “Okay Casper.” She continued pulling out the items in the box.

Namjoon looked flabbergasted, “CASPER!?” Namjoon put a hand over his chest and widened his eyes. (Y/N) looked up at the demon with a raised brow,

“Geez Casper, why are you so offended? I’ve called you Casper before, Casper.” (Y/N) struggled to keep in her laughter, trying to keep a straight face as she looked at Namjoon.

Namjoon looked at (Y/N), “I think I shall simply cease to exist in your realm.”

(Y/N) looked back down at the almost empty box, “You wouldn’t do that, you love me too much, my dearest Casper.” She said in a singsong voice, “Oh hey I found a sock.” She pulled out said sock from the box, it had yellow stripes. :]

“I think Jungkook took the mate to that when he left.” (Y/N) threw the sock at Namjoon with a loud ‘FUCK!’

“I mean we could try and summon him to see if he’ll return your socks.” Namjoon shrugged.

“I wouldn’t even try.” She started putting the random items in their new places.

“You should put Juno on the window sill rather than the coffee table, I mean cacti do need sun.” Namjoon looked at the little green prickle plant.

“I’m sure if i didn’t tell you how to parent your child, it would’ve been confiscated by child protective services.” Namjoon crossed his arms and looked at Juno who had been (rightfully so) moved to the window sill.

“Casper- Juno is a cactus. There is no CPS (Cactus Protective Services).” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon with her own arms crossed over her chest and an eyebrow raised, “Now if you could- Can you please go unpack a few boxes?” (Y/N) shooed Namjoon away before her eyes widened and she added in, “NOTHING LABELED FRAGILE!”

“You know if we painted a wall or two in here, it would liven up the place so much…” Namjoon looked around the bland apartment, “Maybe an accent wall over here. A floor lamp over there. A new plant in the kitchen. It wouldn’t hurt you to give Juno some siblings.”

(Y/N) looked flabbergasted, “You want me to pop out another child?!”

“No I mean-” Namjoon’s eyes widened.

“-OUT OF MY WALLET?!? MY BARELY 21 DOLLARS!?” (Y/N) got her wallet out and zipped it open. She shook it in the demon’s face, about 26 pennies, 2 nickels, 1 dime, and a quarter fell out. It was followed by a single, folded, 5 dollar bill.

“I don’t think that’s 21 dollars, (Y/N)” Namjoon looked down at the floor, where one or more of the coins had caught onto his feet.

“I have a gift card.” She pulled out the cheap plastic, silver, $25 visa gift card (that didn’t have 25 dollars) with a bit of a struggle.

“How much exactly is on that gift card (Y/N)?” Namjoon eyed the flimsy silver object.

“You expect me to know- I mean probably more than 10 dollars!” Namjoon raised a brow at the statement. “Okay, maybe about 3.69.” Namjoon sighed, massaging his temples. (Y/N) bent down to put the money back into her wallet like a pigeon eating bread crumbs the old lady on the bench threw onto the floor.

Namjoon walked away from the pigeon-girl and grabbed a notepad and pen that was left on the kitchen counter. “We’re making you a to-do list.” He stated, clicking the pen.

“WE haven’t even unpacked all the boxes yet.” (Y/N) whined, pointing at the last large box in the middle of the hallway. Namjoon looked to where she pointed and shrugged.

“It says Christmas decorations.”

“EXACTLY! VERY. IMPORTANT.” she clapped her hands in between each word.

“It’s February.” He said.

“It’s still winter.” (Y/N) reasoned, finally done picking up the money. She plopped herself down onto the small brown couch.

“Okay so first off you need a job.” He wrote it down onto the notepad, the pen scratching being overlapped by a loud gasp from the human in the room.

“You dare ignore me?!” She yelled offendedly at the demon who glanced at her before looking back down at what he was writing.

“You also need to go to the supermarket.”

“I told you I barely have any money.”

“Your parents gave you some money.”

“Oh, you’re right.”

“And also, you should walk to the school and find a short route to get there.” Namjoon pulled out a literal map.

(Y/N) pouted, “I thought you were gonna walk me to all my classes to deter all the frat boys from coming my way…”

“I did say that,” he confirmed before continuing. “But I mean to get to the actual school grounds.”

“But we have a car.” She had drawnout the ‘but,’ trying to make her point that she didn’t need to walk.

“But you need exercise.” He reasoned, mimicking the way she had said her words.

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No.”

“Yes you are.”

“(Y/N) i’m not.”

“Yeah you ARE, Casper.”

“Would you PLEASE call me by my actual name for once?”

“Sure thing. Rap Monster.” She teased, the ground started shaking. (Y/N) let out a loud screech looking up at the demon who’s eyes were rolled back. “OH FUCK YOU!”

The shaking died down, Namjoon staring down at the girl who was now underneath the coffee table. “This is why you’re still here!” she cried.

“You want me gone?” Namjoon questioned, offendedly. (Y/N) army crawled her way from her ‘safe spot.’

“I DIDN’T SAY THAT!” She yelled, returning the offended tone.

“I’m out,” Namjoon pivoted on his heel, walking to the front door robotically.

“Noooo!”

“Will I ever see my socks again?” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon with hope, “I mean having shoes would be great too though.”

“What’s wrong with living in sandals? Birkenstocks are very comfortable.” Namjoon pivoted around with a candle in his hand.

“It’s winter.” (Y/N) frowned.

“You could always use mine?” He gestured to the shoes at the shoe rack at the front door. The ones that were closed toed…

“Your feet are too big.” (Y/N) looked over at the shoes, then looked down at her own feet, then at the demon.

“Size didn’t matter Last night with your sweaters?”

“That’s different, Namjoon.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“Size.” Namjoon smirked.

“Different.” (Y/N) stood confidently.

“You know, you could always just go buy new socks?” Namjoon looked at her oddly.

“I usually wait to get them for Christmas, you should know this by now.”

“Independence.” He stated.

“You’re a hypocrite.” Namjoon let out a ‘huh?’ and (Y/N) continued, “You said independence when you’re dependent on me.”

“That isn’t my fault.” Namjoon raised his hands in defense.

“It kind of is though…” (Y/N) shrugged, Namjoon opened his mouth to retort but was quickly cut off, “I’m literally a rehab center for you.”

“Apparently you’re not a nicely rated one.” Namjoon shook his head.

“I’ve helped 6 other demons, Namjoon. You’re just being difficult.” (Y/N) poked his chest really hard before retracting her hand.

“Ouch,” he put his hand over his heart where she had poked him, “You shouldn’t be saying these things to your client.”

“I didn’t ask to get a client or even BE a rehab center.”

“The reason why you became a rehab center was because you decided that humans were ugly and disgusting.”

“The reason why you ended up with me was because you did something bad and you just now decided to be a good person and it’s not turning out well for you.”

“For your information, I could have left a long time ago.” Namjoon crossed his arms, with an audible exhale from his nose. He stared down at the rehab center.

“And why didn’t you, hm?” (Y/N) crossed her arms also with a raised brow. Namjoon kept quiet, debating how to answer, keeping eye contact as if it was an olympic staring contest.

“You.” He said. (Y/N) snorted, ready to insult the patient. “-would’ve starved to death by now if I hadn’t stayed with you until now.” He finished, (Y/N) gasped, reaching up and hitting Namjoon on the shoulder.

“You. Jerk. Get. Away. From. Me.” She hit him harder every word before waddling away into the hallway from the chuckling demon.

“No problem,” Namjoon disappeared with a veil of sparkles out of view.

(Y/N) thrusted open the door to her new bedroom. Continuing her waddle to the end of the full size bed. Facing the head board, she plopped the top half of her body onto the bed front first. Namjoon reappeared about 6 feet away from her with a loud poof and a burst of sparkles scattering around the room.

“Go away.” (Y/N)’s face was still shoved into the mattress, “Seriously shoo.” (Y/N) lifted her arm off the bed to wave him off.

“I won’t go. You can’t make me.” Namjoon walked towards the bed hesitantly, scared to get fucking murdered by his prison warden, “Move over. Give me some room.”

“Go sleep in my closet.” (Y/N) flipped the demon off.

“You’d prefer nightmares over your dearest Casper?”

“Yes.” Namjoon sat down on the bed, his knee almost hitting the girl’s head. “I thought I said in the closet.”

“And I prefer the bed.” Namjoon leaned forward and took (Y/N) by her hands and pulled her closer to himself with an annoyed groan from her. She was pulled until her head was laid on his chest, wrapping his arms around her.

“I hate you.” (Y/N) grumbled into her demon-pillow.

“I know.”

“You live because I allow it, and that is it to be my flesh pillow.”

“Okay, now sleep.”

“But why do you have to leave?” (Y/N) looked up at her bunk buddy, her chin was impaling the person’s chest.

“I have to. I'm ready to go.” Yoongi looked crestfallen, “They said I could have one more night. But then, when I leave, I can pass on my role.”

“Could you maybe not steal my socks?” (Y/N) pouted at Yoongi who chuckled in response. “This is a genuine request.” She said with slight seriousness in her tone.

“You don’t have any to steal anyways,” he rolled his eyes with an endearing smirk that replaced his dispirited look just seconds before.

“Ok just- don’t go stealing any of my clothing, I need it.” (Y/N) clicked her tongue, not denying the fact that she was sockless.

“I won’t. I don’t need your clothing.” Yoongi shrugged, “I might take your guinea pig though. Meatloaf is cute.”

“YOU wouldn’t DARE take Meatloaf from me.” She glared

“I can and I will.” Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest and looked towards the cage that housed Meatloaf. (Y/N) groaned, unlatching an arm that was sandwiched between the bed and Yoongi’s back. She planted her palm smack in the middle of the demon’s face, covering his view of the poor guinea pig.

“No.” She patted his face, Yoongi’s eyes now squeezed shut.

“I can lick your hand.” he threatened, his voice muffled and jumpy from the wacky hand.

“You’re gross,” she moved her hand up, now only covering his eyes and revealing a gummy smile from Yoongi.

“It’s sleep time,” he declared. (Y/N) whined in response, “I’ll be here in the morning to say goodbye one more time okay?”

“Promise?”

“Never said that,” he hummed.

“You jerk,” she groaned, laying her head sideways. Her ear over his heart, engraving the sound into her mind.

Like a cliche love story, (Y/N) woke up to no one but herself on the bed. Through groggy eyes, she could see that poor Meatloaf was gone too.

“I tried to stop him from taking Meatloaf I swear.” Namjoon uncrossed his arms from over his chest when he noticed that (Y/N) was awake.

“Did you really?” (Y/N) sat up in bed.

“I did, I swear,” he said immediately, “I have proof.”

“By proof, do you mean you broke something?” Namjoon took a deep breath figuring out whether or not to say yes or no.

“I… never said that.” He decided on dying, his words drifting off in nervousness.

“So… you did?” She concluded, Namjoon nodded slowly, his eyes down on the floor.

“Yea…” (Y/N) sighed, trying to find anger to cover up a tsunami of sadness that was approaching.

“It’ll be okay. We can summon him every once in a while. Maybe while we’re at it we can try to get your socks back.” Namjoon smiled and hoped it would make her feel better while the reality of things had begun to set in for him. All of the boys loved (Y/N) with all of their hearts but he was the only one willing to stay for the long run.

“I don’t think people want to go back to a rehab center, Namjoon.” (Y/N) let the tears begin to pour.

“(Y/N) it’ll be okay…” Namjoon went over to sit on the bed next to (Y/N), “Seriously we’ll get through this.” Namjoon put a hesitant hand onto (Y/N)’s shoulder and began trying to comfort her.

“I know- I know but-” (Y/N) sniffled, “Hold on, my mascara will run.”

“You’re not wearing any?-” Namjoon raised a brow and looked at (Y/N) like ‘bih-’

“Shush.” (Y/N) shushed Namjoon before shaking off his hand and placing her head on his shoulder.

“You know you can’t prevent me from getting a boyfriend forever.” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon before continuing to pack her bag for school.

“I can and I will.” Namjoon slung his own bag over his shoulder. He was definitely a professor.

“You can’t make me be single forever.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and slung her backpack onto her shoulders.

“Your preferences in men are horrible (Y/N), I'm not trying to prevent you from getting a man.” Namjoon said in a matter of fact voice, moving and opening the front door, letting (Y/N) pass through before he walked out behind her.

She scoffed, “maybe you should hook me up with someone, maybe then you can leave rehab.”

“I miss Meatloaf,” Namjoon said solemnly, changing the subject.

“Why do you always change the subject when I bring up my love life?” (Y/N) complained, stomping her foot as they walked down the hallway of the apartment building toward the elevator.

“Do you think Yoongi will respond if we try to summon him?” He ignored the question.

“Hey Joon? Is your dick ribbed? I heard all the demon dicks were ribbed.”

Namjoon stopped in his tracks, putting his feet together and staring down at the human with a face screaming ‘what-the-fuck?’ (Y/N) had a boxy smile on her face, waiting for a response. “Who the fuck did you hear that from?”

“A fanfic I read, it was a group called DTS,” she shrugged. “Is it right though?” she leaned forward slightly in high expectations.

“Well-” Namjoon paused, “uhhh…” his eyes darted around. “Mine… isn’t.”

“Damn- that’s really disappointing,” (Y/N) frowned, throwing down an imaginary hat onto the ground and continuing walking with Namjoon following behind her.

“Why is it disappointing? You’re a virgin.” Namjoon raised an eyebrow.

“Why would you think I’m a virgin?” (Y/N) looked offended. They stopped in front of the closed silver elevator doors, Namjoon hit the down button before responding.

“You literally had no social life in middle and high school and depended on demons who were attached to you by force in order to not lose your ability to speak in English.” Namjoon raised a finger, “Plus I’ve known you since you were ten and unless it was before that… I would know.” He slipped into the elevator, turning around and walking backwards. A know-it-all smirk plastered on his face while (Y/N) had an annoyed look on her own.

“Can we just- stop before we start arguing about my sex life?” She marched forward into the elevator like a preteen going into their room after an argument with their parents.

“How did you even become a professor?” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon confused. “Couldn’t you have just you know… poofed yourself from people’s view when I go to school?”

“I need something to do while you’re in class. I might as well teach asshole frat boys how to do business math amiright.” Namjoon chuckled.

“I mean… you can just be the ghost you are and haunt me n’ stuff?” (Y/N) suggested, “I mean you already do that, Casper.”

“That’s Professor Casper to you.” Namjoon laughed too hard at his own joke.

“Ew,” (Y/N) cringed. “I’d rather call you Daddy Casper.”

“Only in the bedroom.” Namjoon looked at the human.

“Sex doesn’t always have to be private.” (Y/N) stared back at the demon, flipping her hair back. “Wait- are YOU a virgin then?” She asked, bringing back the topic from earlier, but this time about Namjoon.

“Classified.” Namjoon glared.

“So you ARE a virgin?” (Y/N) snorted a laugh, “And you call yourself a demon.”

“Not all demons are incubi or succubi, your demon-racist.” Namjoon accused.

“I am not demon-racist.” (Y/N) looked up at the tall demon, “I’m human.”

“You’re not a human, you’re the personification of the word ‘dumbass.’” He said, poking the proclaimed dumbass on the forehead.

“Rude of you to assume what I am, Casper.” (Y/N) smacked away his hand and pushed Namjoon not so gently on the shoulder.

“Now you’re the hypocrite,” Namjoon glared, “Professor Casper.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, “Daddy Casper.”

Namjoon frowned, “If you’re so persistent on not calling me Professor, then just Daddy works fine.”

The girl shrugged, “I’d prefer to just call you Daddy Casper, but without the Daddy part.”

“But what if I want to be called Daddy Casper.” Namjoon wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as they walked through the gates of the school, the walk soon enough would be coming to an end.

“Woahhhh down bessie.” (Y/N) lifted her hands and moved them in a downward motion, “Save it for the student who’s gonna try to fuck you for their grade.”

Namjoon laughed again, “You say it as if it won’t be you trying to fuck for an A.”

“I don’t get how an idiot like you got a job as a professor.” (Y/N) punched Professor Namjoon on the shoulder who was still laughing at the insult he pulled out his ass against the girl.

“I don’t know how an idiot like you got into college.” Namjoon rubbed his shoulder and then pushed (Y/N) back with a grin on his face. The bell conveniently rang, ending the conversation and forcing the pair to speed their way over to the classrooms.

“You know I saw one of the sorority girls eyeing you, I think we’ve found our fuck-for-a-grade person.” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon, “You wouldn’t fuck her right?”

“I would never fuck one of my students.” Namjoon looked at (Y/N), “Plus I don’t like cheerleaders, I like depressed freshmen who can see demons and that double time as rehab facilities.”

“I am not a rehab facility. I am a struggling freshman.” (Y/N) clapped at Namjoon.

“No you’re not a rehab facility, you’re my rehab facility.” Namjoon smiled cheekily, “And the way I see it you are not a struggling freshman, you live with a professor that helps you with most of your homework.”

“Eh- The one thing you don’t help with is stress relief.” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon, “The least you could do is let me go out and find a boyfriend.”

“You HAVE a boyfriend.” Namjoon looked at (Y/N) seriously.

“WHERE? WHO?” (Y/N)’s eyes frantically searched the room.

“HERE! ME!” Namjoon pointed at himself and then widened his eyes.(Y/N) looked at Namjoon with a raised brow, her frantic eyes stopping and looking the demon up and down.

“I didn’t know you had a rental-boyfriend service?” (Y/N) said in genuine shock, “I don’t have any money though so-“

“You don’t have to rent me.” Namjoon scoffed, “I’m right here and I cost no money.”

“I don’t take charity work, sorry.” Namjoon groaned and covered his face with a hand.

“You’re literally the most stubborn person I know.”

“I’m trying to keep my single streak here, thank you very much.”

“Wait so we aren’t dating?”

“You thought we were dating?”

“You didn’t think that?”

“You like me?”

“You didn’t know?”

“I mean- you never said it-”

“I literally said it seconds ago, (Y/N).”

“Well yeah, seconds ago I guess but I mean before?”

“I literally confessed to you when we were looking for apartments to move out of your parents house.”

“When?-”

“What about this place then?”

“I like it.”

“More than you like me?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Are you questioning my love for you?”

“Bitch, maybe I am.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Why shouldn’t I be questioning it then, hmm?”

“I’m literally helping you look for a home that we both will move into.”

“That proves nothing.”

“Bitch- If that doesn’t say ‘I LOVE YOU’ I don’t know what does.”

“Oh, I don't know. Maybe saying ‘I love you’ straight up?”

“Fine.”

“I love you.”

“Nice.”

“Ohhhhhh.” (Y/N) smiled, “You meant that?”

Namjoon looked at her with a blank face. She stared back waiting for an answer that didn’t come.

“So… you do mean it?” She confirmed it herself. The demon nodded slowly, waiting for her to process it.

“(Y/N)? You good?” Namjoon waved a hand in front of her face.

“You know,” she started, finally having rebooted her system. “There’s a lot of things wrong with this relationship. First of all, you’re a demon and I'm a human.”

“Not the first time I've heard of that type of relationship.”

“Secondly, you’re supposed to leave soon considering you’ve delayed it enough. Even using my personified dreamcatcher as compensation to stay longer.”

“I’m pretty sure at this point, they’ve given up on trying to get me back.”

“Third of all, it’s weird that you’ve literally known me since I was ten.” She held up ten fingers, “How old are you again?”

“Not that old for a demon,” he shrugged.

“Exactly. For a demon, thank you for proving my point.” Namjoon went to retort but (Y/N) continued. “Fourth, teacher and student relationships are weird.”

“People roleplay it in the bedroom?” Namjoon shrugged once again.

“Exactly,” she said again.

“It’s technically not weird since you’re not my student though. You’re definitely not a business major so…” Namjoon weighed the pros and cons of being caught with a student even if said student isn’t even one of his.

“I’m an English Major- BUT that’s besides the point. You’ve still known me since I was ten.” (Y/N) poked Namjoon’s chest.

“Hey it’s not like I was creeping on you when you were a kid…” Namjoon raised his hands in defense.

“No you just started creeping on me when I was around sixteen.”

“It’s more acceptable than pedophiles!”

“You’re like three hundred!” She exclaimed, she threw her hands above her head to

“Add about seven-hundred years to that.” Namjoon added with slight hesitation.

(Y/N) stood there, mouth agape, trying to do the mental math.

“You’re one-thousand?!”

“Give or take some.”

“I- I’m going to remove myself from this situation.” (Y/N) walked away.

[:] I ran out of image things, so we get text from now on. [:]

“Maybe I should start sleeping in the closet.” Namjoon voiced his thoughts as he was grading papers one night.

“You don’t have to sleep in the closet.” (Y/N) looked at the demon from across the kitchen table.

“The closet is comfortable.” Namjoon shrugged before voicing his concerns about the student’s work, “I’m pretty sure this student is gonna try to suck my dick for an A. This work sucks ass. How did she even get x=34? The answer is x=0!”

“I’m bad at math, don't look at me.” (Y/N) jotted a note down on her work before closing her notebook.

“But anyway- Back on track. Why do you want to start sleeping in the closet?” (Y/N) raised a questioning brow.

“Because the bed is awkward now.” Namjoon sighed before writing a bold ‘10/35’ down on the paper and circling it. (Y/N) glanced over at the paper that was marked red at every inch of it.

“You should put ‘see me after class’ on it. Maybe she’ll suck your non-ribbed demon dick.” (Y/N) suggests as she puts away her notebook. Namjoon’s fist hit the table in annoyance with a loud sigh that definitely said ‘i’m not getting some dumb bitch to suck my dick.’ The girl snorted, “Geez, no need to be so rough on the table.”

“Stop bringing up my non-ribbed demon dick.” Namjoon glared across the table.

“You admit that it’s not ribbed? That’s rough, man.” (Y/N) sighed sympathetically. “Some people are into that, you know.” Namjoon facepalmed, a bit too harshly, a loud smack echoing in the cramped apartment. “No need to be so rough, Casper.”

“You’d probably like it rough, and why the hell are you so bent on the fact that my dick isn’t ribbed?” Namjoon glared, moving onto the next student’s paper.

“We’ve taken the god damn BDSM test together, Casper. You KNOW I'd like it rough.” (Y/N) said in a smart-ass tone, knowing for a fact that they’ve done the test before.

“That shit lies,” Namjoon declared, “I’m not a bottom.”

“We know sweetie, we know. The test did you dirty.” (Y/N) weighed her options before ultimately deciding not to cross the room to comfort her demon. “But you know, the test DID have some direct questions-”

“You mean like the golden showers?”

“Ew, why would you even bring that up.”

“You said ‘direct questions.'” Namjoon shrugged.

“That question was traumatic.” (Y/N) shuddered, “But anyway, You can keep sleeping in the bed. It’s only awkward for you. Plus you can’t even be a demon dreamcatcher from a closet.”

“I can and I will. Now go get ready for bed. I'll join you in a bit. I have to email the kids' advisor.”

[:] Oh wow, another spliter [:]

“What’s awkward about this?” (Y/N) asked, ignorant to the fact that it was very awkward. Her legs were wrapped around the demon’s waist, who was laying down as straight as a log uncomfortably.

“Everything is uncomfortable.” Namjoon tried to push (Y/N) off of him.

“This is where you’re wrong,” (Y/N) states. “Your chesticles are very comfortable.” She furthered her point, by moving her head and weirdly nuzzling her cheek into his chest.

“(Y/N) get off of me.” Namjoon was now really uncomfortable.

“No.” (Y/N) pulled Namjoon’s log-body closer.

“Please?” Namjoon wiggled some more, “Seriously (Y/N) get off.”

“No…” (Y/N) held Namjoon tighter, “Imma go sleep now.”

“Ok (Y/N).” With that Namjoon pushed (Y/N) up and off of him and climbed out of bed and into the closet.

(Y/N) whined, “Nooooooo!” She looked at the closet through her eyebrows. “Are you hiding something from me?” She accused the demon.

“Excuse me?” Namjoon opened the closet door a bit.

“Oh my god- are you a closet gay?” She gasped loudly.

“WHAT?” Namjoon looked at (Y/N) from the crack in the doorway.

“It’s okay! You don’t need to use a fake confession to hide it from me.” She comforted the demon, “I will support you 1000 percent.”

“I’M NOT GAY!” Namjoon wiggled around in the closet before emerging from the space.

“Okay okay- but just so you know, there’s nothing wrong with being gay, Casper. Closeted or not.” She hummed, her words being muffled as she slowly put her face into the mattress.

“It’s been awkward since you basically called me a cradle robber, you stubborn piece of shit.” Namjoon blushed at his confession.

“I thought you didn’t care about that earlier.” (Y/N) looked back up, taking a deep breath of air after almost suffocating herself.

“Well I did.” Namjoon huffed out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Well that sucks,” (Y/N) said blandly, “I was thinking of saying I love you.”

“The fuck- wait,” Namjoon’s eyes widened.

“Night night.”

[:] Cockadoodle-Doo it's morning [:]

The next morning came around quickly for (Y/N), though I wouldn’t say the same for Namjoon. Having him overthinking the “postponed” love confession from (Y/N). Meanwhile, though the night was quick, the morning dragged the girl by the toilet paper stuck at the bottom of her shoe.

Frown plastered on her face, seemingly deep in thought. She was unmoving in her seat aside from her wrist moving to stir the half eaten cereal in front of her. Namjoon sat across from her, “You can stop thinking, you’re going to hurt your head.”

The insult snapped the girl out of her concentration, she looked up and clicked her tongue. “I was just thinking about you. You want me to stop doing that?”

Namjoon raised a brow, “Depends on what you were thinking about.”

“I was wondering if we could summon the boys,” (Y/N) smiled before continuing, “Maybe get my socks back…”

“Are you saying you’d enjoy the company of your socks more than you with me?” Namjoon asked rhetorically with a shocked expression. (Y/N) gagged and rolled her eyes.

“Namjoon…” she said with a honey coated tone. “Are you saying you don’t know that I know you’ve used MY socks before?” The accused had a shocked look on his face that looked like he was on the verge of throwing up.

(Y/N) started snickering, amused by the demon’s expression. “As if I'd use your cheap ass yellow striped socks,” Namjoon aimed his nose at the ceiling. The girl laughed harder, finding the insult to her socks a bit too amusing.

“Okay, back on topic,” she said in between giggles, “We’ll get back to this later.” Namjoon shook his head, unamused unlike the person across from him.

The offended sock insulter cleared his throat, “We should have enough time before we need to go to the school to summon one of them.” He said in a factual voice, (Y/N) nodded as she took a glance at the time that read 7:23 am.

“What did we need again?” She got up from the stool she sat on, abandoning the poor soggy cereal. Namjoon got up also with a hum of thought.

“Candles and a lighter are the main things, obviously,” He says. (Y/N) nodded going into one of the kitchen cabinets for the items. “And if we’re summoning all of them, we’d need offerings…” Namjoon drifted off.

(Y/N) put down the candles onto the marble counter and looked at Namjoon questionably, “So… we need another hamster and dog?” This made the demon pause before nodding slowly, the situation becoming a bit more difficult than it needed to be now.

“And then what about Hobi? What he took wasn’t exactly… a physical object?” She also put it into consideration and clicked her tongue. “I’m still mad at you for sacrificing my literal source of happiness and good luck for yourself.” Namjoon’s jaw dropped.

“I thought we were past this!” He threw his hands up in the air, (Y/N) flipping him off simultaneously.

“Maybe you were,” she sassed, pointing fingers with a half assed glare.

“Technically, it wasn’t a sacrifice, (Y/N).” He said, crossing his arms.

“Well-” She was cut off by the demon.

“Nuh uh, It was just him choosing to leave and wanting to stay,” he snapped, not in a harsh way though.

“But-”

“You know what, let’s just try and summon them another day. I don’t think it’d work anyways.” Namjoon said, dismissing the topic by waving his hand, taking a glance at the tree outside.

[:] Wooshy flash back time I guess [:]

“Why are you still here?” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon, “I mean weren’t you supposed to leave this year?”

“I was supposed to leave instead of Hobi last year. I asked to stay.” Namjoon was sitting nonchalantly in one of the lounge chairs in her parents' living room reading the book she was supposed to be reading for school.

“Why didn’t you leave when you were supposed to?” (Y/N) looked at the demon, a look of confusion evident on her features.

“Who else is supposed to write your book reports for school?” Namjoon smirked while holding up the book before going back to reading said book.

“Then why did Hobi leave? Did he not want to be attached anymore?” (Y/N) began to tear up.

“It’s not that. I asked to stay because I felt I wasn’t ready to leave yet and Hoseok felt he was ready to leave. Most of the time, we leave when our time comes (Y/N). Hobi and mine were at the same time and I wanted to stay so I stayed.” Namjoon smiled at (Y/N).

“But why didn’t Hobi want to stay?” (Y/N)’s tears were flowing freely at this point.

“(Y/N)! Are you crying?” (Y/N)’s mom came rushing downstairs to investigate why her only child was crying.

“I’m fine.” Even (Y/N) wasn’t convincing herself, “Really Mom, I’m just over exhausted. I’m gonna go up to my room.”

[:] And back to the present :) [:]

“Are you almost ready to go?” Namjoon popped his head into the bedroom, “We have to leave soon if you want to be on time for school.”

“I’m almost ready, relax. And don’t you have a class to teach and a non-ribbed dick to get sucked by that one bitch for an A?” (Y/N) scoffed from where she was printing an essay that Namjoon had written the night before.

Namjoon started counting down from five, “Five- You better fucking get your ass in gear or you’re gonna be late. Four- Seriously (Y/N). Three- Professor Howard can’t give you another pass just because he likes you. Two-” Namjoon got cut off by (Y/N).

“I’m ready, asshole.” (Y/N) looked at him, “You better not let that bitch Brianna suck your dick.”

“I won’t let her suck my dick!” Namjoon raised his hands in defense, “What about my toes though?” (Y/N) looked at the demon with a face of disgust and looked at him from head to toe.

“Are you Namjoon or Taehyung?” She squinted, looking at his face.

“It was a joke!” Namjoon smirked, “But I'm sure she’ll do it for an A anyway.”

“I’m done with this conversation Casper.” With that (Y/N) slung her bag over her shoulder and left.

“Hey wait!” Namjoon grabbed his own bag before speed walking after (Y/N).

[:] Professor Casper or Daddy Casper? [:]

“SO.” (Y/N) sat down across from Namjoon in his office, “Rumour has it that you’re dating a cute english-lit major and are up for evaluation. What say you in your defense?”

“I mean I am dating a cute english-lit major. But I’m not up for evaluation, I used my demon charms to get out the punishment.”

Namjoon looked at (Y/N) seriously.

“Did you actually?” (Y/N) gaped at Namjoon.

“No. I explained that dating you is punishment enough.” Namjoon smiled, his dimples popping.

“Bastard.” (Y/N)looked at Namjoon.

“Bitch.” Namjoon smirked at (Y/N) before leaning over the desk and kissing her on the forehead, “I love you.”

“Good.” (Y/N) blushed.

There, through the window of the office, there were 6 peeping toms watching the couple.

“Adadada-uda,” Taehyung stuttered, “THEY’RE SO CUTE!”

“This looks like it’d turn out like a straight porn video on the hub,” Yoongi says bluntly.

Jungkook looked at Yoongi, “Ew straight.”

“Moving on,” Seokjin cleared his throat, “Does anyone remember when (Y/N) said I love you back?”

A series of “No’s” could be heard.

“Maybe we weren’t watching!” Jimin raised his hands, “But when were we not watching?”

“Oh I know!” Hoseok interrupted, “When they split up because of classes earlier. We left Yoongi hyung in charge just in case something happened.”

“I took a nap and must've missed it.” The guilty demon shrugged.

“No, (Y/N) definitely isn’t someone who confesses straight up.” Seokjin said, stroking his chin. The rest nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, that's why she didn’t have a man when we were still there.” Jungkook snorted.

“No JK, we all know the reason why (Y/N) was always single. Was because she was pining after Namjoon.” Jimin stated the obvious.

[:] Damn. Imagine having someone to kiss in public. Or at all. [:]

“So how do you reckon the staff caught onto us… I mean PDA really isn’t our thing.” Namjoon looked at (Y/N), “Who have you told?”

“I haven’t told anyone!” (Y/N) frowned, “Maybe someone saw us go home together? I bet it was that bitch Brianna. She gives off the stalker vibes.”

“I’m not gonna let her suck my dick.” Namjoon looked at (Y/N), “And she’s already failing my class so even if I did let her suck my non-ribbed punisher, she still would probably only have a D-.”

“Hey- I thought we stopped referring to your dick as non-ribbed.” Namjoon raised a brow, making a face that said ‘you’re-the-one-who-started-it.’

Reading his expression (Y/N) glared at the demon, “Technically you’re the one who started it because you freely admitted it freely.”

“What makes you find out the hard way that my dick isn’t ribbed?” Namjoon looked at (Y/N) suggestively before flopping namtiddie first into the couch.

“I think I would've preferred finding out the hard way.” (Y/N) flopping onto Namjoon’s hard back.

“So I can’t even have the couch to myself?” Namjoon groaned before realizing what (Y/N) meant by ‘finding out the hard way,’ “Are you saying you rather had found out in the heat of the moment after having prepared yourself for a ribbed demon dick?” Namjoon leaned his head up to bump (Y/N) who still had her fat ass on his back, “I can’t breathe, get off.”

(Y/N) rolled off of Namjoon before plopping herself down in front of Namjoon, “That’s exactly what I am saying.”

[:] Smh stalkers at every moment [:]

“And I got a big fat ass!” (Y/N) shook her ass while singing off-key.

“Your ass is everything but big, baby.” Namjoon passed (Y/N) to reach for the garlic from the spice cabinet.

The girl turned and looked at Namjoon with an offended look, “You know. As my rental boyfriend, you’re supposed to be nice.”

Garlic forgot, Namjoon turned to (Y/n) and grabbed her waist, “I’m not your rental boyfriend and you know that.”

(Y/N) laughed, “Okay go off I guess, not my rental boyfriend.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes before pushing Namjoon away.

“Woman,” Namjoon placed a hand over his heart, “You wound me.”

(Y/N) turned around and smiled at her demon, “I could argue that you’re the one that wounds me.”

“I do not wound you.” Namjoon scoffs, “But I could very well wound you if you keep saying i’m a rental boyfriend, love.”

“Well we wouldn’t want you to wound me now would we,” (Y/N) smiled up at Namjoon before leaning in and placing a quick peck to his lips, “I love you.”

Namjoon smiled before returning (Y/N)’s peck with a chaste kiss, “I love you too, baby.”

*Meanwhile from the dining room 6 men were watching from not so afar*

“Hyung! Hyung! Did you see that!” Jungkook excitedly pointed towards the couple in the kitchen.

Yoongi groaned, “See what?”

“Le gasp! How could you have missed that!” Taehyung held a hand over his heart, “(Y/N) initiated affection for once!”

Jin smiled, “It really was adorable.”

[:] Oh look, you're at the end. [:]

“Every kiss begins with consent.” Namjoon wiggled his shoulders while grading papers at the table.

(Y/N) smirked before leaning over the table and planting a large whet kiss on Namjoon’s cheek.

“Rude.” Namjoon scoffed before pulling (Y/N) in for a proper kiss.

“You know that kiss didn’t have much of my consent in it.” (Y/N) smiled before leaning in for another kiss.

“I don’t think I consented to that either though.” Namjoon smiled.

“Get back to work baby.” (Y/N) nudged Namjoon towards his pile of papers.

“Yeah yeah.” Namjoon smiled before looking down and putting a big red ‘F’ on a paper clearly marked Brianna Simms.

“When will she just drop the class?” (Y/N) chuckled, “Dumbass.”

do not repost, translate, or claim as your own. :]

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Intro to Criminal Minds: Why They Did It

Criminal Minds x Mindhunter AU

Spencer Reid x Peggy Carr (OC) Part 2: The Case

Summary: Spencer is teaching a 7-week seminar on the most interesting criminal cases, explaining their actions to understand why they took place. Only, not everyone in the audience is a student.

warnings: strangers to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn! flirting, fluff, eventual smut, idiots in love, OC is Wendy Carr and Jason Gideon's biological daughter. mentions of rape and murder (typical canon violence)

word count: 2.2K

ao3

He’s not expecting her to roll out a full map after the waitress clears the food from their table. They’ve been in the booth for barely 20 minutes. Having mindless conversations about their day and small get to know each other questions while they ate.

“So, I brought all this to my dad,” she explained, dropping 33 files on the table as well as 2 spiral notebooks and a handful of pens. “He thinks I have a case, but he’s refusing to look at the evidence because he’s still triggered by it, which I get, but he said you’d be the best at helping me because I really just need a geo-profile consult.”

“How is he doing?”

She’s been waiting for him to ask but she still didn’t know how to answer, no matter how much time she had to prep, “uh, he’s good. He talks about you every time I see him, how often do you talk?”

“We haven’t talked since he almost died, 6 years ago now… yes, it was in 2015,” Spencer says it like it’s nothing serious.

“Oh,” she’s confused about it all. Her father talks about him more than anyone else, always remembering a case or a conversation that he just had to tell her about.

Spencer was his buddy in her eyes. “Here I was thinking he liked you more than me like you’re his favourite kid.”

“I’m not his kid,” his eyes widen at the insinuation that they’re somehow siblings in any sense.

It makes her laugh, she knows he’s interested in her a small amount. She was hoping he would, she’s heard so many wonderful things about him and she remembers just how cute he was back in 2005. Now he’s a man and a mighty fine one at that…

“I take it you’re an only child?” He changes the subject, “you can’t handle the idea of your father having relationships with people your age when you hardly know him?”

“How about you tell me who you think I am and I’ll tell you where you went wrong?” She challenges him rather than answering, she knows he’s good but she wants to see it in action.

Spencer raised his brow, “if I get it right, you’re paying for lunch.”

“Deal.”

He opens her notebook and takes a look at her notes, flipping through the pages reading the words just as fast as her father said he could. It was incomprehensible, but he didn’t read far… he keeps going back to her drawings, studying the pressure and how her mind worked.

“Your mom travelled a lot when you were a kid, and you always went with her. I’m thinking you have a few degrees, at least 3…” he pauses to watch her microexpressions, trailing her skin with his eyes as he looks for anything out of the ordinary. “There’s a doctorate in there but you hate being called Dr. Carr because that’s your mother’s name and it reminds you too much of people asking about her instead of how you’re doing.”

It cuts deep, but he hits the nail on the head and she just blinks. The simplest microexpression that shows him he got it right, his smile is awkward and he’s sorry for it.

“You were homeschooled so you don’t trust people very easily. You have issues with your father that you can’t place because you still don’t think you know him well enough to really have an opinion, and you’re jealous of me because you wish you knew how he brags about you when you’re not around, but he doesn’t talk about you because you told him not to.”

“I specifically told him I wanted to be left out of his life to stay safe, so it’s really my fault that he can’t brag about me. But I still wish someone would,” she admits with a soft smile. “And I think it’s not really jealousy. I’m not jealous of how he brags about his time with you. If anything, I really admire you now.”

He blushes a little, “alright, your turn.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend before have you?” She calls him out right away. “You can’t take a compliment seriously because no one has loved you deep enough yet for you to believe them. I already know about your parents, I know that you’re scared of forgetting and that’s why you won't stop learning. I think you probably have a bucket list, you’re desperate for something exciting to happen and that’s why you like me already.”

He blinks right back, “touché.”

“I’ll still buy your lunch,” she smiled, and he smiled right back. “And I do have 3 degrees.”

“I do too.”

“I know,” she reminded him. “You’ve been working on that 4th one for the last 16 years.”

“I haven’t had the time.”

She shakes her head as she laughs, teasing him as if she’s better than him because she knows he finds her interesting already, “I had my Ph.D. by 17, as well 2 masters by the time I was 21.”

“3 Ph.D.’s by 22,” he bragged right back.

It had suddenly become a staring contest, “when exactly did your dad walk out on you?”

“I was 10.” Spencer answers. “When was the last time your mom said she was proud of you?”

“Oh, we're going that far, I see,” she laughed, hurt just a little that he dug that deep, “what happened to yours recently?”

“Alzheimer’s.”

“I’m really sorry, I knew about the schizophrenia already because of the fisher king case, that one is the one that still has my dad all fucked up,” she can’t help but rant as she apologizes, placing her hands on his in the centre of the table and he interlocks their fingers like they’ve known each other for years.

“Boston?” He asks her, changing the topic back to getting to know each other without letting go of her hands.

She nods, “Vegas?”

“You knew that already,” he catches her.

“Maybe so,” she blushes at the embarrassment of him picking up on her crush.

“How’d he describe me at chess?” There’s a cockiness behind it that she admires, smiling in response she just shakes her head.

“I don’t play chess, but he says that other than Agent Prentiss, you’re the only person who has come close to beating him.”

“Prentiss?” He looks almost offended at the fact he didn’t know that story.

“You were asleep on the jet, it was right after the trip to Azkaban,” she reminds him.

“Azkaban?” He repeats. “You mean Guantanamo?”

She’s only slightly embarrassed by the slip-up, blushing a deep red as she presses her lips together and squeezes his hand. “My mom calls it Azkaban, she hates it. If it wasn’t for the BAU, she would have never joined the bureau or the government in any way, she’s against the criminal justice system too, so…”

“She’s a woman of science and empathy, I’ve never met her, but I’ve read all her work.”

“So have I,” she’s full of butterflies for some reason as she thinks about him knowing everything that she does, she’s suddenly excited at the prospect of future conversations with him like this isn’t a one-time thing.

He’s still holding her hands over the map, both of them leaning in slightly as they kept talking, it felt overly intimate for a discussion of a case— and they haven’t even started yet.

She takes her hands out of his grip and flattens them over the map, “so I found a pattern, I was asked to look into the rape and murder of a friends sister, and now I’ve found 32 matching cases all over America going in alphabetical order by state, 2 a year since 2005.”

“Are you serious?”

She nods softly, “I’m a private investigator. I hated the academy and simply being in the BAU almost killed both of my parents so I’m not really fond of it, but I need help.”

“How did VICAP not pick this up?” Spencer’s still caught up on the fact this has been happening during his entire career and he had no way of helping. It was very clear by the look on his face.

“Because they’re college-age women getting raped in their dorms, 1 in each state, and men don’t care enough to dig a little deeper when it’s just a little girl who was probably asking for it anyway, right?”

He looks furious, but with her… not at her.

Not like most men, that’s actually exactly what any other guy would have said to her. ‘Not most men,’ they only said that if they were offended; when they knew that they were the exact type of man she was referring to.

He started opening case files then, flipping through everything as she watched carefully, “he always does it the exact same way. It’s every March and November between the 6th and 12th, he’s gotten to the O’s, which means the next hit should be in Oklahoma in exactly 2 months' time.”

“Has there been evidence?” Spencer asks, avoiding eye contact as he both listens and absorbs.

“1 footprint and some random fingerprints at the first few, other than that it’s like he was never there,” she sighs. “This is where I need your help; I’m unsure if he’s attacking randomly or if it’s planned ahead of time, so I brought the map to see if you can make any connection.”

“Alright,” he closes the folder and hands them to her so he can get a better look at everything. “I’m going to need the exact address of each one.”

“I have 32 mini maps,” she says, opening her book bag and handing him yet another folder.

“I’ve noticed they’re in every capital, and it’s always on the east side of the city,” she adds as he spreads them out on the table.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and turns on the flash, turning it face down and holding the sheets of paper over it, “If you look at them over each other, there might be a pattern. We should call my friend Penelope, she’ll be able to digitally do this and find something.”

“Okay,” Peggy nods along, “I really need to know within the week because I’m moving to Oklahoma.”

“What?” He looks overly worried.

“He’s interested in college-age brunettes,” she points at herself. “I’m going to rent an apartment with a sliding door in the kill zone, and I’m going to wait it out. I’ll make sure everyone knows I live alone, I won't make friends, I’ll keep the windows open when I go to the store, I’ll make myself a victim.”

“No, we can get the bureau to send in a team, you don’t need to be in harm's way,” he protests, “I won’t help if I know you’re throwing yourself in the middle of all this. I refuse.”

There’s an underlying panic that she doesn’t quite understand. He’s almost shaking as he thinks about her playing the victim, they stare back and forth at each other softly, eyes flickering over the other’s expression as he also reads her.

“Fine,” she agrees, finally. “But if you’re getting the team involved, I want to be able to have some say in the investigation. I don’t want to be kicked out for just being a PI.”

“On one condition,” Spencer smirks. “You have to teach the BTK seminar with me.”

“Deal,” she smiled. “But I have some conditions too.”

“Anything?”

He was going to regret that.

“We can’t sleep together until we catch the guy— don’t look at me like that!” she catches the way his jaw drops and his eyes glisten.

He’s in complete shock, trying to say words and failing miserably as she stares at him knowingly. “I only said that because I need rules for myself too. We can’t care more about each other than the victims. Solve the case with me and then I’ll have a crush on you, okay?”

“Okay,” he finally finds the words to agree. “Was it that obvious?”

“We held hands for 5 minutes, I’ve thought you were cute since you were 23 and that seminar was a; 'my horse is bigger than your horse' flirting match,” she calls it all out, “I’m just as into you as you are into me already, if not more so because I know way too much about you thanks to my dad and uncle Rossi.”

“Dave knew about you too?” He’s more upset than she expected.

She nods, “yeah, so that I’d be taken care of if anything happened to my dad.”

He is a little upset and she can’t figure out why from what she knows already, “why?”

“You’re so interesting, you and I could have been friends for the last 15 years and things could have been so interesting but you were a secret,” he whispers.

“I was right wasn’t I?”

He nods again, “Gideon doesn’t know about Maeve, but I had a girlfriend who died in front of me before I could tell her I loved her and it broke me.”

Everything makes sense now. The stares, the stuttering, the defensiveness at the idea of her being in harm's way after only knowing her for a few hours. He was desperately looking for someone like himself to prove that he wasn’t going to be alone forever, and he wanted that to be found in her.

“Solve the case with me, then you can learn what it’s like to love someone who loves you back.”

taglist:

@g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #intro to cm #mindhunter #wendy carr #peggy carr

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anythingbutmar · 4 years

Text

Lonely

Diego Hargreeves x reader

Summary: You love Diego, but you get tired as he keeps ditching you to save the world. Fortunately, he knows how to make it up to you.

Prompts: 21.“Shut up.” “Well why don't you come over here and make me?" 23."For the love of fuck.” “Yeah that's me, I love to fuck."

A/N: THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING ACTUAL SMUT AND I’M SCARED, also, this is the longest thing I’ve ever written and I’m so proud! I love getting more and more Diego requests.❤

Warnings: unprotected sex, drinking, angst.

You know how you're still quite sensitive a few days after your period is gone? You told yourself that was the reason why you were sitting on your livingroom floor, drinking a wine bottle by yourself and crying your eyes out. But you knew the real reason had nothing to do with your cycle.

Diego had failed you, again. Maybe failed was too strong of a word, but he was late to your dinner for the third time in a week, and you truly wanted to understand him, but it was so damn hard.

It had been exactly a month and nine days since the day that he had stormed in your apartment rambling about JFK, 1963, the apocalypse and a commission. It took you a week to process the whole thing not only because it was incredibly hard to believe it, but because he kept adding details here and there like an excited little boy, except he wasn't excited at all, he was just mad at himself for not being able to save a president that had been dead for almost eighty years.

And so, he freed himself of his anger the only way that he knew: on the streets, which usually took him away from you for a few hours, but it was already one in the morning and he wasn't answering any of your texts and phone calls, so you drank and you weeped while listening to Toni Braxton.

You could say that Diego had changed for the better. He was no longer blaming his disgraces on his siblings, he told you he wanted things to get serious because of how much he missed you and you could see even more kindness in his eyes, but it still wasn't what you wished. You had always wanted him in every possible way, but this time you were asking for more, because even though he was your entire world it seemed as if you were never enough for him, given how he preferred to fight criminals over sharing one meal with you.

If you wanted to, you could have kept replaying depressing thoughts in your head, but you were tired already, so you laid your head on the couch and drifted away, holding onto an empty bottle.

And that is exactly how Diego found you half an hour later. He truly felt sorry, but he didn't want to wake you up, and he didn't want to fight, and in general he just didn't want to face you knowing he had disappointed you and a complete country, so he grabbed you in his arms, wanting to carry you to your bed, but even as you slept rage kept burning in the pit of your stomach, and it was that rage that woke you up, right as he was lifting you off the floor, so of course, your natural response was aggressively wiggling your way out of his arms until he accidentally dropped you. You could notice that he was about to laugh until he saw the terrifying look in your eyes and stopped himself.

Diego was no mirror, but you could almost see yourself through his expression. Messy hair, ruined makeup and wine stained lips. He might as well have called you Madremonte already, because you knew you must have looked just like her, same anger in your gaze.

"Where were you?" The alcohol could have blurred your vision but you could see him quite clearly, and it made you wanna cry because you loved him so damn much and you just wanted him to love you back.

"You know it's not a specific place, I just go around town."

"I'm not a jealous person Diego, but I'm not stupid either, and you can't expect me to be waiting for you as you're out there every night saving god knows who. It sounds ridiculous, but I envy an entire city because everyone in it gets to spend more time with you than I do."

Tears poured out again as you remembered the night you met him. You had just quitted your job and were too distracted with your worries to notice the robber creeping up behind you. Thankfully, Diego was there on his silly latex suit, and unlike you he had seen the guy, and he scared him before he could even touch you, freaking you out in the process, but he made it up by inviting you for a drink, and so, your "relationship" started, but it wasn't until that day when he showed up in your doorstep with longer hair and bigger problems that he'd actually adressed it as such. He had asked you to be his girlfriend, and you couldn't be happier to accept, you just didn't know it was going to be this hard, and thinking back to the days where he was saving you hurted like hell, because even though you didn't want to say it out loud, you knew you were alone now while he was saving everyone else.

Diego remained silent, he looked regretful, but that wasn't going to ease your pain.

"You don't have to say anything, I already know what you think. You regret this, you regret us." He frowned deeply, as if he expected anything but what you'd just said.

"What? Of course not!"

"You do! No matter how much you try to hide it it's the truth, you can't even stand to look at me anymore and I don't even know what I did!" Your breath escalated as you let out everything that you couldn't say before.

"Shut up Y/N, you don't even know what you're saying."

"It's not even what you try to tell me everytime! You don't think you've failed me, you just don't want me, so you go out to seek comfort on your fucking hero complex! You'll never learn that you can't save everyone and I don't understand why but somehow you resent me for it!" You screamed and it felt good even though he was right, you were just making up reasons for something that you couldn't understand, but he needed to know how much his absence harmed you.

"Listen to yourself! You're literally not making any sense! I've told you nothing but the truth since I got here because I want things to work between us, and when I say that I come late at night because I know I could have done more to protect you I really mean it. I can't face you when I fail at making you safe." He didn't even seem mad, he just looked frustrated, which actually made you sadder because you didn't want that to be the truth, you didn't want him to feel bad for something that he couldn't control.

"I should just leave, there's no point in arguing."

"No Y/N, you don't have to go, just shut up." He grabbed your wrist softly, letting you choose, and a devilish smirk appeared on your face as you got an idea.

"Well why don't you come over here and make me?" He looked surprised for a few seconds, but when the anger in your eyes turned into lust he mimicked your expression, more than eager to finish the discussion the right way.

He strengthened his grip on your wrist and he pulled you towards him so that there wouldn't be any space between you two, he looked down at you and kissed you passionately, playing with the hem of your skirt and gesturing for you to jump, and so you did, your legs hugged his waist and your hands tangled in his hair just the way he liked it as he walked to your bedroom, carrying you in a different way than he had planned earlier.

He sat you down on the bed and started undressing himself with quick clumsy movements that scattered his clothes all around the room, which might have not looked quite sexy to a normal person passing by, but to you, watching his back tense as he took his shirt of and threw it towards your nightstand was incredibly hot.

So you tried to do the same, to see if he would look at you the same way, but of course, you were still tipsy, and you almost fell to the ground for the second time while stumbling on your own skirt, but Diego’s arms were there to hold you once again, and much to your surprise, there was love and passion in his eyes, which only made you desire him more, but just when you were about to kiss him again, he stopped.

“You’re not sober baby, are you sure you want to do this?” He looked concerned and it made you soft because he was just such a good man.

“Diego Hargreeves, I’m not entirely drunk and I’m giving you my explicit consent.” You mocked him a little but you regreted it instantly, because as soon as you said the words he pushed you on the bed and removed your underwear, the last piece of clothing between you.

You reached out to kiss him and this time he kissed you back with the hunger of an animal. His hand went to your throat and pressed lightly, which gained a moan from you and allowed his tongue to finally meet yours, but it was too slow for you, you wanted more and more and more than you could take, so you turned the game and got on top of him, which he didn’t seem to enjoy as much.

Diego loved being in control, and by taking it away from him you were showing him what would happen if he ever made you feel lonely again.

You put your hands on his shoulders and eagerly lowered yourself on his dick, slowly taking it all in and getting used to his size before you started bouncing. It felt incredibly empowering to be in control and it made you drip with arousal.

He tried to help you by thrusting his hips but you pushed him down. You knew all about his games, he would start regaining his dominance bit by bit and before you knew you would be beneath him, begging for his mercy. But you weren't about to let that happen, not today.

“Damn.” He cursed both in pleasure and surprise.

You wouldn't even let him grab your hips, you fastened your pace by yourself and he was completely helpless, and the thought of him not being able to do anything he wanted made it harder for you to last. You had just started and you were about to cum already, all because it had been days since the last time he made you feel like this.

Apparently, your orgasm closing in was noticed by both of you, because the minute you got distracted in your pleasure he lifted you and helped you place yourself on his face, and when he was finally allowed to move he took advantage of it.

He ran his tongue across your folds in a painfully slow matter a few times before concentrating on your clit, licking and sucking fast and hard, the way he knew would make your knees shake in a matter of seconds.

“Oh for the love of- fuck!” He twirled his tongue around that extremely sensitive spot one last time before you came in his mouth.

You laid beside him, legs pressed together in adrenaline and a smile on your face, you had missed him in every possible way.

“Yeah that’s me, I love to fuck.” He laughed stroking your hair and pushing a few loose strands away in a loving matter. Diego was the absolute king of aftercare, he always seemed to know exactly what you needed, and he made sure you felt safe and loved before you both drifted off. “You do know that’s never going to happen again, right?”

“Oh it will happen over and over if you keep pissing me off, and I kinda liked being on charge for once.” You turned to face him but he wasn’t laughing with you. He wasn’t serious either, he was just staring at you as if you were an ethereal being, as if he couldn’t believe you were laying next to him, afraid that if he blinked or looked away you might slip from his arms.

“I love you baby, and I promise you will never ever feel alone again, and I’ll only leave when you want me to.”

You kissed him, a tiny peck on the lips to ensure him that you believed his words before you fell asleep, finally feeling how his warmth made your pillows softer, your bed more comfortable and your dreams more beautiful.

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves imagines #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves imagine #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy imagines #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy fanfic #umbrella academy #diego hargreeves fanfic #diego hargreeves umbrella academy #diego hargreeves angst #diego hargreeves smut #umbrella academy angst #umbrella academy smut

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slipping-through-my-fingertips · 3 years

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Klaine it up! 2, 7, 12, 21, 50

Okay...I got this. PROMPTS FOUND HERE

2 - you accidentally sprayed them with yogurt when you open the lid the wrong way.

This was not Kurt Hummel’s first time opening yogurt but it might’ve well have been. He was sitting at a picnic table in Central Park on his lunch break from Vogue.com having just picked up a BLT, sweeten iced tea, and strawberry yogurt from his newfound favorite sandwich shop. It just happened to be two blocks down from the Vogue offices too.

After eating half a sandwich, he found himself watching three young girls practicing their hula-hooping skills. Of course, while entranced by the colorful swirls of plastic, Kurt grabbed his low-fat yogurt and pulled at the lid, and the minute he did another man was being dragged by his golden retriever over to Kurt’s table.

Before he could stop it, a splash of light pink yogurt was splattered across the front of a bright blue polo.

“Shit, I am so sorry,” they both said.

Kurt had a lap full of puppy and the man covered in yogurt.

“She’s really friendly and has a fondness for bacon,” the man said, gesturing to the sandwich. “And who can blame her.”

With that comment, Kurt pushed his meal away slightly. Out of reach of the dog’s mouth.

“I usually am way more careful with my food,” Kurt said.

The handsome man only laughed, “it’s no big deal, do you happen to have a napkin?”

“Oh yes!” Kurt reached into his bag to grab one.

“Thanks,” he said, “come here, Lacey.”

The puppy sat right at his side and waited. Kurt stood up to wipe the yogurt away while the man kept Lacey still.

“I can...” he started to say but Kurt was already pulling away having cleaned it up the best he could.

“Lacey and I also share a fondness for cute boys but I don’t suppose...” he trailed off, blushing.

Kurt still wasn’t used to being flirted with but this wasn’t small town, Ohio.

“And who can blame you,” Kurt replied, already grabbing a pen and paper from his bag to write on.

THE REST OF THE PROMPTS CAN BE FOUND BELOW THE CUT

7 - you both do the side-to-side dance when you try to pass them in the grocery store aisle

Kurt told his dad to pick up an extra heavy whipping cream three days ago when Burt asked if Kurt needed any other ingredients for Thanksgiving dessert. He told him.

“I only need 3 things: dark chocolate, heavy whipping cream, and almond extract.”

Burt had gotten everything but Kurt needed whipping cream for both the chocolate mousse itself and the whipped topping he planned to make. Now he was at the crowded grocery store one day prior to Thanksgiving. Exactly where he didn’t want to be.

Of course, every grocery store made you walk all the way to the back of the store for dairy products. I’ll just grab milk and eggs real quick, you think, then suddenly you have a cart full of snacks you didn’t need.

Kurt found the red and white carton fairly quick. He backed up and started to make his way to the self-checkout. Before he could think about the temptation of potato chips, he was stopped by another body.

They both stopped and shifted their feet to make way for the other. From right to left and back again for several seconds before both falling into pits of laughter. Kurt looked into deep hazel eyes that twinkled at him. He wondered how long he could do this dance just to stare at them some more.

“That’s my fault, I came around the corner too quick,” he said.

Not quick enough, Kurt thought, we could’ve fallen to the floor. You on top of me would be quite nice.

“No, it’s all me,” Kurt replied, “I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

He fumbles into his pocket for a business card. Isabel’s one-month anniversary gift.

“If you’re in town longer than tomorrow, I’d love to buy you some coffee as an apology,” Kurt said, handing the card over.

“Oh.” Kurt watched him scan the card, flipping it over in his hands. “I’d love to, Kurt.”

A shiver ran down his spine. Maybe he should thank his dad for forgetting the cream.

12 - you kick a ball and your shoe flies off, hitting them in the back of your head

Blaine used to hate having an older brother. Growing up, he felt constantly in competition with Cooper’s larger-than-life personality. Now that Cooper had settled down in LA with Lisa, his wife, and had two wonderful kids, having an older sibling didn’t seem too bad.

It was summer break, Blaine was free to leave the confines of his NYU dorm room. He was trying to get lost in the sunshine of California to forget he was about to start his final year of college. Time with his niece and nephew was sure to put any nervousness out of his head.

They were playing soccer in the park when it happened. It was bound to. Everyone in LA was hot. It was like the law.

Cute boys and Blaine’s non-existence coordination weren’t a good mix.

Blaine went to kick the ball and caught sight of a bicep. An unusually pale bicep. A rare sight in sunny Los Angles. Arms, Blaine fantasized, he’d love to see wrapped around him or possibly pushing his legs apart.

He was sure he tighten his laces. This is why Blaine Anderson didn’t wear sneakers. Missed the ball by an inch but the force of his kick sent something flying through the air directly towards the cute guy: a sneaker.

It happened so fast, Blaine heard the yell of surprise before realizing his sock was exposed. Once he realized what happened, he rushed over to the man.

“Fuck, I am so sorry,” Blaine said. “Can I do anything?”

“Well, an aspirin would be great,” the man teased.

Blaine sat in the grass and chuckled. Still extremely embarrassed.

“Not exactly the fairytale I always dreamed of.”

“Fairytale?” Blaine asked, scrunching up his nose in confusion.

“Cinderella,” he said, like it was obvious, “a lost shoe as it were.”

“I’m not Cinderella,” Blaine told him, “sorry to say. I’m more of a Blaine.”

“Kurt.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“I do believe this is yours,” Kurt said, handing over the shoe.

21 - Almost spilling a drink because you met their eyes and got distracted thinking how cute they are.

His dad always said pour your drinks yourself. Blaine became that friend who grabbed drinks for everyone for this reason exactly. He wasn’t sure what the occasion was exactly but his study buddy from his songwriting workshop invited him. It was at some loft in Bushwick but Blaine didn’t mind the adventure.

Until tonight he had no reason to venture to this part of the city.

“Blaine!” Elliott exclaimed, pushing a solo cup into his hand, “Drink up, karaoke at eleven!”

Then he disappeared into the crowd. Blaine headed straight for the kitchen and poured the toxic mixture down the sink. He found a new cup and started reading the labels of the bottles spread out across the counter. Mixers and any alcohol of your choice seemed to be available.

Rum and coke sounded good. He went into the fridge for a cold soda first. Blaine was happy the kitchen was empty he wasn’t quite ready to start making friends. As far as he knew, Elliott was the only friendly face here tonight.

He poured the rum in for some semblance of tracking his alcohol intake. The last time he got drunk, he dialed the professor he TA-ed for, who thankfully overlooked that incident. Blaine cracked open the coke and while he poured surveying the living room.

People were dancing to an upbeat pop song that Blaine strangely didn’t recognize and others were mingling in doorways or sat on scattered sofas and chairs chatting. He caught a pair of blue eyes in the crowd.

The man they were attached to was stunning. If he hadn’t blinked, Blaine could’ve mistaken him for a marble statue carved by the gods. They didn’t lose eye contact as he walked towards the kitchen. It wasn’t until the man stood on the other side of the counter that Blaine noticed his hand was covered in soda.

“Papers towels are behind you,” the man offers.

Blaine set the now empty can down and spun around for paper towels to clean up his mess.

Just great, he thought, make a fool out of yourself. That’ll score you some points.

He cleans up his hand before wiping down the puddle of bubbling coke on the counter.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he continues, “and this is my party so I like to know all my guests.”

“Your party?” Blaine stutters.

“It’s my birthday.”

“I’m Blaine,” he introduces. “Elliott invited me. We have a class together.”

“Oh, you’re Blaine. From songwriting workshop.”

“That’s me.”

Elliott’s obviously talked about him before to this man. This gorgeous, completely out of Blaine’s league man.

“God, he’s relentless,” he says. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Um, might I ask why? I can leave if there’s an issue.” Blaine knows when he isn’t welcome.

“No, no,” he replies, “don’t go. It’s just he’s been trying to set us up for months now.”

It all clicks.

“Oh god, you’re Kurt.”

“That’s me, the birthday boy. and you are Elliott’s idea of the best gift ever.”

Blaine blushes. “I don’t know if I can I've up to that but if I can have the next dance I can try.”

Kurt nods. “I’d like that, Blaine. A lot.”

50 - getting paired up on an amusement park ride that requires even-numbered riders

All of Kurt’s friends hated rollercoasters. Rachel didn’t like heights, Elliott refused to do anything with loops, and Santana, well, she was too caught up in her new girlfriend to be bothered.

“I only wanna hear screaming tonight,” she told him.

So, Kurt waited in line himself. Some fun day at Coney Island this was turning out to be. He was so glad he was spending the day with friends. Kurt rolled his eyes.

The woman directing the ride gave Kurt his row number and moved down the line. Behind him someone tapped on his shoulder, Kurt turned around and found himself looking at a curly-haired man around his age.

“Guess we’re both odd men out then, I’m the single rider in my group today.”

“Oh, um, no, my friends were too chicken to even ride,” Kurt said.

“I’m really surprised Wes and David are good to go. They both hate being upside-down.”

Kurt smiled.

“I'm Blaine, by the way.”

“Kurt.”

The ride emptied out and Kurt crawled over to the far seat. They buckled themselves in and listened to the instructions to keep all body parts inside at all times. Then, the bar came down and the ride launched.

After the ride ended, Blaine and Kurt were chatting all the way down. Wes and David trailing behind them.

“That second loop really threw me,” Blaine was saying.

“I saw,” Kurt exclaimed, “I thought you were going to fall out of your seat.”

“Downfalls of being short and compact.”

When three more people joined their day at the park, no one questioned it.

#this was a lot at once but SO FUN #monica's inbox #my fics #klaine drabbles #meet cutes

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runawayfairie · 3 years

Text

━♡ guess the 21 YEAR OLD NOVEMBER baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because AHN SEOJIN is just as RAW as the month of NOVEMBER. wait, why do they remind me of LEE GAHYEON? beyond that, they seemed OUTGOING & RESOURCEFUL upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of REBELLIOUS & SELF-SERVING though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX # 4 / APARTMENT # 6 / FLOOR # 3 ; they seem to have a lot going on with HER job as BUSKER (unemployed).( Bee, 24, she/her, cst. )

Hello everyone!!! My name is Bee ( the 2nd lol. She/her, 24, cst! ) and I’m so happy to be in this group with my sad girl Seojin! Please add me on discord too, its so much easier to message there! bee121#9991 I will be posting links to her navigation but I’ll also put in a little bio under the cut with some plot ideas and connections I need filled out! Feel free to message me or like this post and I’ll come message you lovely people!! ━♡

Profile || Wanted Connections || Plots || Full Nav Pin Board & Playlist for Muse!

━♡ STATS & BASIC INFO

☾ Ahn Seojin is 21 years old, born November 5th, 1999 and the moment she was born her life was nothing but struggle.

☾ Backstory!! Seojin never knew her dad because she was actually the result of a scandal between a man who was married with a family of his own and her mother. The two had a secret relationship for years before she came along, naively her mother thought he would do something for them but instead of physically being there for them he simply paid her off and forced her to never speak of the affair or the accidental kid. He gave them enough to get by on, or what he deemed was enough, and sent them away. Her mother had to work multiple jobs to keep them afloat and they were happy for a while with just the two of them. Her mother died her junior year of high school and she ended up dropping out to work because she wouldn’t of survived if she’d continued school. With no other family to lean on, any relatives on her maternal side disowned them the second they found out about her and she didn’t even know her father, not that she would want his help anyway, she was on her own and did her best to get by. This resulted in her having to work any job that would give her a chance but it wouldn’t be long until she was fired for stealing food or supplies she wasn’t able to pay for, since most of her paycheck went towards trying to keep the apartment her mother and her had. It also wasn’t long before she eventually lost that too and she was on the streets for a while, finding people to stay with or spending most nights in internet cafes or norebong bars. She finally realized that she could make more money singing in busy shopping districts, especially when its known for attracting tourists, and with this new “job” she was able to barely afford a new apartment! Now she’s living in Dallyeog and life is looking up!

━♡ PERSONALITY

x Just like the changing and chilling weather of November, Seojin is quick to adapt to whatever life throws at her, no matter how dark or difficult it may be. She is very extroverted and comes off as extremely sweet and friendly, but she is quick to get defensive and although she is always dealing with something she rarely ever shares her personal issues with others. She likes to live in the moment and not worry about the past or the future, even if she does dwell and overanalyze everything in her life when she lays down to try and sleep.

x She likes fun above all else, any excuse to have a good time is something she is totally down for, anything that keeps things light and impersonal. When people try to get to know her personally she tends to take a step back, putting up a bit of a wall around herself for protection.

x She likes to be the center of attention, the life of the party, and she tends to surround herself with a lot of people and from an outsider’s perspective you could assume that she was very popular and had many friends, but she never really let anyone get close enough to truly start to know who she really is. She is worried that people will think she’s no good, broken, a waste of space- all that stuff, and she tries to make herself as likable as possible so that people will want to keep her around.

━♡ WANTED CONNECTIONS / PLOTS

★ Family Connection wanted!! Seojin never knew her dad because she was basically a “mistake” from the beginning, no one could know about her lest her father’s “perfect reputation” be soiled by HIS mistake. He couldn’t let his own family find out either so she wasn’t even told his name, she took her mother’s surname which is exactly how she wanted it. She does eventually find out who he was and learns that she had a half sibling (or siblings) that were living in Seoul and she wants to learn more about them. Do they know about her?? Would they be mortified? Embarrassed? Angry? Would they be able to get along maybe..? After all, they are the only family she has now, so she feels like she has to try. || OPEN ||

★ Much like a stray cat, Seojin is always over at other people’s apartments begging for food, she seems to always know when someone is cooking, and she tends to spend a lot of time on couches receiving love and affection while she talks about where she went out the night before. Her heat and electricity is often shut off at some point towards the end of each month because she is late on payments, which is also why she’s always seeking out meals. (Rip her empty fridge lol) I am needed many muses who either don’t mind her coming over for food or people who seem to have to just deal with her because she’s cute and they pity her or just enjoy her company. || OPEN for many muses ||

★ As a way to deal with what she’s been through, Seojin has been known to party and go out, sometimes more than she really should, and you can be sure that she’d never turn down an invitation to have a night out on the town! She goes out often and makes it almost a game to find new places that are tucked away and usually have secret menus. If your muse ever wants a drinking partner, she’s your girl!! || OPEN for many muses ||

★ Wanna go on a picnic? Food and drinks on me! Or well.. The convenient store down the street! She may be a little bit of a clepto.. but it’s not because it’s an addiction, it’s because she needed to do this to get by, and it’s so much easier than paying for things! She’s gotten quite good at it too, she rarely ever gets caught anymore. Does your muse approve? Will they join in? Turn her in? || OPEN ||

★ “Would you light my candle~?” -Rent Seojin comes to your muse’s apartment complaining that her electricity and heat is off and she needs a candle lit and maybe some time to warm herself up. She is looking for company and maybe a place to sleep, and she isn’t too shy about how grateful she would be to them and how she would definitely repay them, make it “worth their while”. ( I get big Mimi vibes from Seojin in most ways but the junky part, she is more into alcohol than drugs. I just love this song so much and think a plot like this scene would be fun! ) || OPEN ||

★ (more to come soon, if you have any ideas feel free to message me!)

#━♡ ahn seojin #━♡ runawayfairie #━♡ krp #━♡ apartment krp #━♡ intro post #━♡ more to come soon!!#━♡ i will be editing this a lot lol

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katierosefun · 3 years

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Go Back Couple made me cry it was so sweet and wholesome ;-;;; and it was really clever too! And I thought it said a lot about people it really made me think about how we really see only one or two sides of someone else in a relationship. I saw Hospital Playlist at the start of quarantine and I spent the whole time just being “I miss my friends!!” bc it has such beautiful friendships and platonic relationships (and cute romances too)

Also if you have more recs please share bc once this quarter finishes I really want to watch more dramas I’m collecting recs ^^

ooooh, i just read the plot of go back couple and i’m so curious, and i’ve added it to my to watch lost! and yessss, i’ve been meaning to watch hospital playlist! i think i watched the first 10 minutes of the first episode, but i never got around to continuing, but i most certainly will resume my watch once finals finish for me too :’))

oh yes, but as for more recs...well, there’s this list that i compiled a few months back, but since then, i’ve been thinking of other kdramas i’ve watched and liked, so...below the cut!

1. penthouse (1 & 2, renewed for a season 3, which will be coming in june!)

where to watch: viki (although with some kind of plus plan, but if you don’t have plus,,,here’s a place where you could theoretically watch)

favorite track on the ost: idk, i haven’t really been paying attention to the ost because like...this kdrama is also so incredibly focused on opera / classical music, and it’s actually introduced me to a lot of wonderful pieces, one of my faves being mozart’s die zauberflote.

listen: it usually takes me a hysterically long time to get through a new kdrama, but i was so invested that i got through the first season (complete with 21 episodes!)n within like,,,two or three weeks, and i have about 3 episodes left of the second season (which has 13 episodes!). this kdrama is just that good. it’s basically about these families living at this super fancy apartment complex called hera palace (which is fitting...hera, the queen of the gods, also the goddess of maternity...). honestly, there’s so much going on in this kdrama that it’s kind of hard to explain everything that happens, but essentially, the show opens up with the murder of a young orphan girl and works backwards from there. we learn about each of the families’ secrets, ambitions, and some really shocking twists and turns along the way.

honestly, i’m surprised by how much i love this kdrama. there aren’t a whole ton of likable characters--literally almost every character is deeply flawed and obvious about it, but honestly, the complexity and layers built into each character is worth it. we really see how environments shape people, especially with each of the family’s children. we see all these moralities clash with each other, and we see how greed and ambition can muddy those waters, even amongst the children. i’ve been super enjoying season 2 especially, because we’re learning even more, not to mention that i’ve been so surprised by the level of character development going on here. i won’t spoil anything, but like...it’s wonderful and impressive, and i cannot believe this kdrama has me actually rooting for certain characters. also, on another note: this kdrama does a lot with addressing exactly how far a parent would go for their kid--and it’s bonkers and wonderful. honestly...an addictive kdrama, full of suspense and drama and with deeply complex characters.

a fair warning: this kdrama is rated r, although i’m learning that rated r in south korea would probably pass off as pg-13 in the us--there’s more explicit scenes of violence, really harsh bullying, murder (of course), and implied sex scenes (nothing ever shown, very much a “camera pulls away” situation).

2. pinocchio

where to watch: viki

favorite track to the ost: pinocchio by roy kim

okay, this kdrama is...just really sweet, and again: i liked it a lot more than i thought i would? it’s a little older, like it started airing in 2014--but i just...really liked it. it’s about these two people from separate families (but they grow up together under the same roof, it’s a whole complicated thing), and both of them become reporters. the only issue is that one of the characters has pinocchio syndrome, which is basically that she can’t tell a lie without hiccupping. you’d think this makes for a goofy drama because of that, but this kdrama def. has a lot of heavyhanded/serious moments. it’s so weird to think this kdrama aired in 2014, just because i think a lot of the themes--all of them about truth and what counts as the truth especially in journalism--feel still so relevant today.

this kdrama also has a lot to say about generational trauma/the burdens we inherit from our parents and our older siblings, and it also has a lot of stuff about taking responsibility for the sins of our parents, etc. it’s so wonderfully and beautifully done, and i’m honestly...again, surprised by just how deeply they ran with this concept. the romance is also cute, although i’ll def. admit there’s some stuff that still makes me “???” but overall, i really enjoyed the actors’ chemistry with each other, and i was still satisfied with the ending!

3. fight for my way

where to watch: viki

favorite track on the ost: i don’t think this kdrama has too much of an ost? and i don’t think i was paying attention to the ost in this kdrama either, oops

i’m still watching this kdrama / have i think 5 episodes left of this kdrama, but i’ve been really enjoying it so far! it’s following the story of these four twentysomethings, and they all have these big dreams for themselves. unfortunately, they’re also twentysomethings, and achieving their dreams is...kind of hard. honestly, this kdrama is just so wholesome, and it has its serious moments, but i really love it. the friendships in this kdrama are solid, and the romance is super sweet, and it’s very much so the classic childhood friends to lovers that just makes me :’))

also, just like...it’s hopeful. and empowering. and just like, seeing characters go “i know this is hard for me to achieve and i know it would make so much more sense for me to just sit down with my head low and quietly accept where i am, but i’m going to pursue my dream anyways” just...idk, i feel like it’s a kdrama that a lot of young dreamers can relate to, and i really need to finish this kdrama, but it’s...really sweet and relatable.

4. space sweepers

where to watch: netflix

okay, so this isn’t a kdrama, but i need to rec this movie because it’s...so good. this is a science fiction film following this crew of...space sweepers. basically, earth is now uninhabitable/unsafe to live in, and the wealthy are all living on a repurposed mars. (bro doesn’t that sound familiar?)

in order to get money, a lot of people risk their lives by cleaning up debris still floating around orbit. these people are known as space sweepers, and they’re basically space janitors, only with a lot more flying and swearing. this crew winds up accidentally getting ahold of this mysterious child, who may or may not have a huge bounty on her head. i won’t go any deeper than that, but...this movie is so wonderful for its found family elements, and each character has such an interesting background, and i’m honestly surprised by how this movie went so deep into each character in such a short amount of time? (although honestly i would 1000/10 want a netflix series following each character’s lives just because)

admittedly, there’s some issues i have with this movie--like, idk, one character wears dreadlocks, and i’m just :/// about that, because :///// it really shows that south korea isn’t exempt from cultural appropriation. i still like the character, and i still like the movie overall, but that’s just a heads-up.

but besides that, this movie is really good at showing how sometimes the villain is just a wealthy old white dude, and sometimes family can really just be a ragtag team of outcasts, and sometimes it is really the younger generation that can literally bring hope and etc. it’s very much :’))

and that’s all i’ve got! thank u for asking me about kdramas, because...as you can tell: many thoughts.

#answered #i have....so many kdramas to watch too #like hospital playlist and king eternal monarch are def. kdramas i need to resume watching #and i've also....steadily been making my way through romance is a bonus book although i still don't really know how to feel about it #it's cute but i don't have too many thoughts/enough thoughts on it #i've just been watching a lot of lee jong suk's kdramas let's be real #i've also been meaning to watch what's wrong with secretary kim? because i remember liking it but i've only watched the first 3 eps #so i wasn't sure whether to rec it #tbh check back on me in a few months and i'll def. have more kdramas to rec asdfsfasdf #i now have the yearly viki plus plan and as you can tell: i am using it

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bashlandrya · 3 years

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sebastian ‘bash’ landry: an updated intro !

since it has been literally like 9 months since i posted his most recent intro, here is a new updated one for anyone who has not kept up with bash’s crazy dumb life. yeet

tw drugs, alcoholism, death, violence, jail, dumbassery

let me say first he’s honestly the worst, he's nice and friendly almost to an annoying extent and it will absolutely be genuine most of the time but at times he only is because he will gain something from it. he lies a shitload but can also be extremely blunt. he’s arrogant and has way too much confidence but deep down probably hates himself. he’s selfish, he’s impulsive and he might punch you if you step on his toes at a bad time. he will make elaborate excuses instead of admitting he did something wrong but has still been in jail a few times because he said ‘yeah i did it lol’ (usually when caught red handed). he also drinks way too much but denies alcoholism and he’s barely changed mentally in over a decade. it is honestly a miracle he’s not dead. ok thanks for coming to my ted trash bash talk. i love this man.

basics

name: sebastian damien landry

nicknames: bash (almost always), seb (but rarely), idiot (regularly)

birthday/age: march 22d, 1991 / thirty

gender/pronouns: cis-male / he, him

sexuality: sadly still a heterosexual

zodiacs: aries ☉ ; gemini ☽ ; sagittarius 🡕

occupation: drug dealer (mostly weed, some cocaine and psychadelics).

hobbies: all types of adventures, his motorcycle, drinking, video games, music (he plays drums and does back up vocals in a not very serious local punk/rock/metal mostly cover band - more info here).

neighbourhood: downtown (apartment tour here)

length of time in crescent harbour: since summer 2009 (12 years)

place of birth: new orleans, louisiana (yes boi has a bit of an accent)

height: 6′5″ (195cm)

moral alignment: chaotic neutral.

positive traits: adventurous, kind-hearted, fun-loving, witty, spontaneous, humorous, clever, generous, protective, sweet and caring.

negative traits: troublesome, sarcastic, deceitful, somewhat arrogant, temperamental, impulsive, rebellious, loud, blunt, dishonest, sometimes aggressive and a bit selfish

tattoos: a seven of spades on his left pec (x). an arrow on his left outer forearm (x). the moon cycle on the right side of his torso (x). geometric tattoo on his right outer forearm (x). a wolf on his left shin (x). aries-inspired ram skull on his upper back (x). a fleur de lis on his left upper arm (x). a sloppy drunk tattoo his friend gave him a year after his mother’s death, on his right knee that just says ‘mom’.

scent: cigarette smoke, liquor, citrus, cologne.

background

Grew up just outside of New Orleans with his parents and six siblings, he’s the third (black sheep but they all love him anyway<3). His mother died suddenly when he was 18 years old and the family moved to Crescent Harbor where he repeated his Senior year in High School.

He started getting into more trouble, arrested several times and graduated High School behind bars and then..... Continued reckless, bad behavior for the next 12 years anyway.

To some peoples’ surprise he went to College and actually has a Bachelors in Humanities. He’s dumb but not dumb.

Slept around a lot in his teens up until his first year of College when he got chlamydia and got more careful.

Started dating the Blackwood cousin Jamie when he was 21 and they were on and off for four years, Bash going in and out of jail, until she finally left him in 2016 and moved to New York.

Bash set out to change but didn’t succeed and kept living like he always had; going to jail a couple of times, sleeping around somewhat but with protection and disappearing out of town for weeks at a time. He once ended up staying on an island for two weeks because he got super drunk and hopped on the ferry and had no money to get back — and of course he left his phone on the mainland.

In July 2020 he reconnected with LiIy Whittaker, an old High School friend-ish. They ended up hooking up on a boat (that Bash, unknown to Lily, had stolen borrowed from her dad).

They kept hooking up throughout the fall and in October Bash realized he had caught feelings for her and decided to tell her, only he was arrested moments after for 2d degree theft (class c felony) for stealing jewelry from the Whittaker household. He spent two weeks in jail, and found out Ian Whittaker had likely framed him, before Lily helped his sisters bail him out.

He was proven innocent and not guilty in November and the same day Lily admitted she had feelings for him too and they started dating.

Has worked several jobs that he’s lost either because he didn’t show or because he was arrested. Between 2018 and 2020 he worked as a bouncer in a town over but was fired in November 2020 after not showing up when he was out on bail for the Whittaker case.

After being fired he went back to dealing like he'd also done between 2015 and 2018 (that time he got out of it because his sister got him a job at the drive-in that he lost after a few months). Lily, his family, and honestly anyone who would like him not to, are not aware he deals drugs.

His mother died in the spring so during the season he drinks more and gets extra reckless and aggressive so he recently wasn’t very nice to some people........ and him and Lily are fighting a bunch at the moment.

more random shit for no reason so u can skip if u wanna lmao

Suffers with insomnia, probably because of his high alcohol consumption but also anxiety that he won’t really admit to. Went to therapy once after his mother’s death but never continued with it.

The absolute worst at keeping track of his phone and it’s always on silent and either on low battery or just dead. It usually takes him a few days to get back to you if you text or even call. The easiest way to get a hold of him is to visit his apartment and kick on the door or wait for him to get home if he’s not there (u might have to wait a while sometimes tho....).

Has played drums since he was ten years old, starting when he found a drum set in the music room at his Elementary School. At this point he can pretty much play some songs blindfolded. He also started playing guitar at 15.

Has slightly bad eyesight but you will rarely see him in glasses, he wears contacts and usually has an extra pair with him in case he’d lose one. Which he did once when he was drunk and far away from his apartment and had to nagivate home half-blind and tipsy.

Used to skateboard a bunch but hasn’t done it much since some time in College.

Has broken a bunch of bones but most notably his nose 3 times, it’s not as straight as Casey’s.

Likes cooking and is pretty good at it. Pasta is the shit.

His motorcycle is an Indian Scout he bought in 2015 and it’s his baby. Before that he had a Suzuki VS 1400 GL Intruder from 2003 that he got in 2010 and sold to get money for the new one. He’s never owned a car butyes, he knows how to drive one.

He doesn’t dance and if he does, it’s not exactly serious.

Smokes Winston Red 100’s.

Criminal record at the bottom of this page.

Rocks a beard like seen above even though I sometimes use stubble-only gifs.

Despite his unhealthy lifestyle he manages to work out a couple of times a week and he eats.... A lot, because he knows that if he doesn’t he’ll turn into a noodle boy like he was in his teens due to his height.

#i triedmy best to keep this short but oh boy #crescent:intro #intro #this man gives me a such a headache i CANNOT UGH #and i did need to get the trash bash talk off my chest pls get him out of my head lmfaoooo

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 5 years

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Time After Time (The Eighties Blasts Collection, Part 1.)

Description: Jim Hopper died as a hero. But with that, one certain problem rises up - who will now lead the cops of Hawkins? Hopper thought of that - he decided to write a letter, naming his niece, nineteen-year-old student of Indianapolis police academy, Y/N Hopper as a sheriff deputy in a letter. But anybody in the town doesn't have a clue that being a cop in Hawkins is way more dangerous than it might seem.

NOTICE: This is an AU where Hopper had a brother which he doesn’t talk to, but still has a great relationship with his niece (more like father-daughter relationship). Nothing else would be changed.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader (eventually) - the story is more driven by the relationships in the gang.

A/N: Every chapter will probably be named after one ICONIC 80s song because I am trash for them. Also, I will call Johnathan John bcs I am sick of writing such a long name over and over again.

Warnings: Grief, losing a loved one, bad family background for the reader, Will, Johnathan and Joyce leaving Hawkins.

Word count: 3.7 K (Sorry guys, I had fun)

Tagging: x

Master list: The Eighties Blast Collection

Try to ask your parents about living in the '80s. Or no, you don't have to ask them at all - they would definitely tell you that it was way easier, better and safer back then. Maybe they would be right if you don't remind them about Doug Clark and Carol Bundy for example. Serial killers aren't such things in our age.

But there was one particular town in Indiana where it wasn't exactly a pleasure to live during the '80s. There was like... Everything from novels and movies had happened there - strange disappearances of children, mutates crawling from another dimension, possessed shirtless white boy with a mullet running around, kidnapping people and basically killing the; even murders bated by U.S. government and experiments on people.

It was a true science-fiction to say at least.

What was the town’s name? Hawkins. Hawkins, Indiana with a population of thirty thousand people - may be more or less, nobody exactly knew since such a crazy shit was happening out there.

Your beloved uncle Jim, to which you went every holiday for the whole two months, has lived there since forever, except for his rather short time in New York - and you found your way to love the city as well. The people there were always the same - same shopkeepers, same employees in the restaurants, same stores and groceries. You dreamt about working alongside Jim since you were just a little kid. While other girls wanted to be princesses and astronauts, you just wanted to be a cop.

So it hit you when you were in your room at the police academy, listening to George Michael and read a magazine, laying down on the bed. At your nineteen, you were one of the best cadets that ever got into the police academy before reaching the age of 21. Jim was so proud that he cried when you called him.

But when the sergeant who led your training called your name through the silent halls, you knew that something had to happen. And when you sat down behind the desk, looking her in the face, you knew it isn't anything nice.

And when she told you, oh boy, you couldn't but chuckle unbelievably. No, you weren't happy or amused with what sergeant Brown told you - but you couldn't believe it.

“Jim Hopper is dead? Is it... For sure? That must be a mistake. You're shitting me right now.” - You told her, not even caring about the rule not to curse around your authorities. And Mrs. Brown fully understood what you're going through at the moment, so she didn't say a word about that. Your breath stuck in your throat as you got up to walk around the room.

“Miss Hopper, I can tell you for certain that I am not joking.” - The woman on the opposite side of the table looked you in the eyes. - “I am sorry for your loss, yet Mrs. Byers sent us an official document where Jim Hopper named you his deputy sheriff, signed and stamped two weeks ago.” - She took the document out of the envelope and looked you in the eyes, putting it in front of himself so she could read from it.

“But I’m too young to be a deputy.” - You mumbled and took the document seriously naming you to the function into your fingers, reading it word after word. Jim was looking forward to having you by his side as a cop - so when he learned about the Russians in a facility below Star Court, he wrote two letters and one document - one for Eleven, a girl who he adopted and you liked, one letter addressed to you and a document naming you the deputy, so he was sure that the Hawkins city is in good hands when he's gone. You never saw the letter though.

Only the official document made it.

“And we do acknowledge that. You're too young, you haven't even finished your studies, Miss Hopper, this is a rather unpleasant and special situation. And for that, we will transfer you to an academy nearby Hawkins, so you can finish your training there while you will be helping at the police department.” - Mrs. Brown smiled at you a bit. - “We also acknowledge that you loved your uncle and to continue with his legacy means everything to you. Hawkins department is out of policemen anyway.”

---

So it was done. Your grief over Jim was deep and it took too long for you to acknowledge that he won’t come to his cabin hidden in the woods a small while from the big oak next to the road to Denfield, just fifteen minutes away from Hawkins.

When you told the locals about the cabin, it was in a horrendous state - the windows were missing, there were holes in the ceiling, the door were broken apart and... It was a hellhole. It needed a lot of repairing and almost everything was broken inside, including almost all of the furniture, but you managed somehow.

Especially the broken windows and broken ceiling would cost a fortune if there wasn't for the good people of Hawkins who collected money and old, non-used things from their homes. They started one month before you came so it was almost done when you were about to roll into the town - but you could do the rest by yourself.

You let Hopper's old armchair just in the place where it always was, in his trail, and you left El’s room untouched as well, you only cleaned it up. People from the town were helping you with the renovations by all kinds of small gifts, ranging from canned and normal food to shampoo, helping you paint and paper it from the inside, giving you their old equipment like the TV or a refrigerator, even a VHS player.

On the day when you came back to Hawkins in an old Chevy from the 70s’, with all your things packed in boxes stored in your car’s trunk, you immediately went to Joyce’s house. Joyce was something like your auntie - you, Nancy Wheeler, her son Jonathan and Steve Herrington always played by the woods she had behind their house. She always made you the best cupcakes, played with you, talked to you and when you were too caught up in playing, she called you to have lemonade or some snacks - but that was too long ago for you to even properly remember.

You remembered only small bits from your evenings at the Byers' house, but the feeling of Joyce is a nice, calm and sweet person always remained inside your head.

Once, all of you were only kids and you were in Hawkins only for two to three weeks every summer - so, naturally, your friendships with the old party didn't exactly last in the form it was ten years ago. All of you got into puberty and since you were studying the police academy, getting there after the senior year of your high school, you didn't really hear much about any of them.

Plus, after you left Hawkins, you found yourself new friends in New York, so... It was no wonder, really. Everyone was just living their life the best way they could.

Although, when you heard that Joyce and her boys are you about to leave Hawkins for Maine, you tried to speed everything up only to tell her your goodbye before she actually goes away. When you got out of the car, 99 Luftballons by Nena practically screaming from Chevy's radio, you could only see a half-full moving truck and a load of kids out there.

At least, you weren't that late, were you?

You could recall some of them - like Eleven, a girl living with Jim who you got to know the spring of 84’ when you got released for a weekend lasting holiday to celebrate Jim’s birthday. She was cool as fuck, having some kind of psionic abilities. Jim almost killed both of you when he found out that she had shown you some tricks, but you found that extremely cool. You two had built a pretty good and strong connection over the course of your visits at Hopper's.

You were able to recall Mike Wheeler and Will Byers as well since you knew their siblings - and these boys just couldn't be more similar to Jon and Nance. But there were a few kids you didn't have a single idea who they might be.

“I’m here to help. But I’m late, I guess.” - You leaned into the doorframe and smiled a bit at Joyce’s back. She was running around the whole house cluelessly and tried to pack while the others were doing the actual job. She looked at you standing there in an old flannel shirt and cool jeans which can be bought only in cities or big malls. You looked... Certainly not happy, tired, your eyes red from crying, but good and fine as hell. - “Guess you can say that I am a Hopper, right?” - You smiled as she walked to you to give you a tight, motherly hug, humming into your ear.

“You are so big now. I remember you barely reaching my waist, darling.” - She cracked up a bit and you were almost sure that she is about to cry - and if she would, you would be a crying mess as well. You cried almost the whole way to Indiana. You just stopped yourself to cry again? Oh, boy.

“That happens over time. Guess Jonathan isn't the smallest nor youngest now as well, huh?” - You joked, walking to one of the boxed in the hallway. Just with that, Jon accompanied by Nancy walked into the doorframe, holding another two boxes.

“Someone left a started truck outside and is playing pop blasts... Y/N?” - Jonathan asked unbelievably when you turned around to face him. He looked tired as hell just by the looks, but he still sorta got his rebellious expression, just as you were used to. And Nancy? She was breathtaking now. You almost jumped at both of them to hug them firmly with a giggle.

The old party was getting back together.

“I can't believe you're here!” - Nancy laughed to your ear. Both of them had the best childhood memories from the times you were there - like jamming to literally every ABBA or the Rolling Stones song, riding bikes through the neighborhood and just the best fourth of July festivals. - “Also, I'm so sorry about...”

“I know, I know. It would be nice if you stop reminding me.” - You answered a bit louder than you plan to, so Nancy just shuts up. You were immediately apologizing, but she shook her head with her typical Wheeler smile. She totally got what you’re feeling at the moment, it wasn't even your fault really.

“Wow. I haven’t seen you since... Forever.” - Jonathan took your shoulder to his palm and smiled at you. - “I wish we could just sit down, have a cup of tea and talk about what is going on now.” - Nance agreed with him, leaving you in the hall with panicking Joyce; until another person came by.

“Is that... Is that you?” - A fourteen-year-old girl came there in an old shirt which you knew that belonged to Jim. You immediately softened when you saw the teenager, kneeling down and opening your arms for her. You closed your eyes as El leaned to you and hugged you tightly.

“Yeah. I know.” - You mumbled into the crook of her neck quietly, letting her put her head on your shoulder as both your palms smoothed her back and her ponytail. She was such a baby girl since the day uncle Jim introduced the two of you. - “Listen up, baby. Let's get moving with the packing. You can introduce me to your friends and your boyfriend, sounds good?” - You got up, drying off her tears as you tried not to cry as well. You needed to make you both occupied.

“I would appreciate if you'd help the boys with Will’s room.” - Joyce looked at the both of you with her hands on her hips. - “Not that I don’t believe them, but I am afraid that Will’s and the other children’s packaging skills aren't exactly on point, if you know what I mean.”

99 Luftballons subtly changed to Take On Me by A-Ha as it continued to blast through the quiet neighborhood. You and Eleven walked to Will’s room just as Joyce asked you to, leaving Nancy and Jonathan as they were.

And oh boy, there was a kind of war between four boys and a redhead girl going on, tees of every color were flying everywhere as they laughed and ran throughout the back of that house. It made you smile, wishing you could just join along. They were so young and careless and you loved it.

But as soon as they noticed you, an adult standing in the doorframe alongside El, they hid the tees and pants behind their backs and only whispers and giggling could be heard.

“Joyce was right.” - You stepped in, picking up the clothes from the ground while looking at Will. His haircut wasn't the best and he looking alike Jon when he was a small boy. - “You guys can't pack clothes for shit.” - You mumbled as you watched every one of them.

The redhead watched you without a clue who you could be, but the others knew your face. Not too well, but they had definitely seen you around a few times before.

“This is Y/N, Hop’s niece.” - El pointed at you and the redhead nodded. Any of the teenagers couldn't understand how could you be related to Hopper in any way - he was the old douche, probably ugly, fat and a really unpleasant person most of the time. But you were young, pretty and seemed to be a really chill person.

“These are my friends.” - She pointed at the redhead and a boy alongside her. - ”Max and Lucas.” - She pointed at Will and Mike who you knew. - “Mike and Will.” - And then she pointed at a boy with curly hair who was smiling at you and to be honest, scaring you like shit. - “And this is Dustin.”

“So, who’s the lucky one?” - You smirked at El and the way Mike’s cheeks reddened, you knew that he’s the one. She smiled at you without giving you a proper answer.

You somehow managed to make the kids pack the things before dismantling the furniture in Will’s room with Jonathan’s help. You two were left alone as the others started to move all the boxes into the truck, having quite the space to talk.

“So you and Nancy, eh?” - You smiled at him wickedly when you started to dismantle the bed. - “Or was I dreaming?”

“Yeah. You haven't been in the town for a while. A lot of things have changed.” - Johnathan chuckled in response and handled you the wrench you needed. You rose your eyebrows.

“You could at least call me. Would that be such a problem, mister Byers?” - You teased back and finally took the head of the bed out.

“We thought you’re too busy living your best city life and forgot about the villagers. Hopper was updating us about your wellbeing pretty well. Heard you got to ILEA? He was proud as hell.” - Jonathan smiled.

Yeah. Uncle Jim was the most supportive person on the whole planet when it came to you or El. You were both his little baby girls - and if someone tried to fuck your dreams up, he would be a literal pain in their ass. So, naturally, he spread the news about you studying on ILEA to everyone he actually listened to him. Joyce and Karen Wheeler were throwing with pride, lemme tell you.

“Yeah. I got to Indianapolis, but they transferred me to the midwest since I have my new job here.” - You sighed and helped him with the wood from the side of the bed. - “Gonna study in a program of correspondence course while having my practicum here. Hawkins is apparently in need of fresh cops.”

“No way you're going to be the sheriff. That would make Hop so proud.” - Jonathan smiled at you softly and you smiled back at him.

“He actually planned on me being the deputy. You really don't have many cops here, eh? Taking in a person who had barely finished their studies? Joke's on you.” - You started to dismantle the wooden legs off the sides. You and Jonathan were actually a good team when it came to manual work.

“We do have cops. But Hopper was the only one who wasn't bribed and actually done his damn job.” - Jon looked at you for a small while. You will be a good cop. He could feel it.

“It will be quite a change from Indianapolis.” - You sighed with a shy smile.

“I was wondering what you’re doing in the evening?” - Jonathan asked all of a sudden, his question followed by your furrowed face. - “We’ll be gone, but I don't want Nancy to be alone. If you want to... Accompany her, I will be glad.”

“Oh, sure. If she would like to, no problem. We can borrow some VHS tapes to watch movies in the evening or whatever. Mrs. Wheeler gave me their old player.” - You nodded. There was one question which was making you furrow, so you leaned over to Jonathan, making him stop the work, quietly touching his shoulder.

“I need to ask you something. It’s pretty... Personal to me.” - You exhaled loudly and your body shook completely on its own.

You were all emotional about Jim passing away and even if it was more than a month since you got the news, you still fought the urge to cry. You tried to shake it off as Jonathan caught your palm in his as well. - “How did uncle Jim die? Nobody wants to tell me, they only told me that he had passed away. Was he shot? Or...” - You curled into a ball and closed your eyes. Jonathan looked around the room and gulped.

You didn't have to know this. You didn't need to know any of this. He wasn't feeling good at that moment and you could feel it. He didn't want to give you an answer, because he somehow felt that it would only hurt you even more.

“All I will tell you is that Hopper died like a real hero. That man might be a pain in everyone's ass, but he sacrificed everything to save the others. He saved all of us and I think that he saved everyone in this town. But if I would tell you, you would think that I’m crazy.” - Jon said quietly, interrupted by Joyce standing in the door. She clearly didn't hear much, since she didn't have any idea you even asked about Hopper. She was smiling, as usual, and she was really glad that the bed was dismantled.

“Oh, honey.” - She kneeled down to you and Jonathan, nuzzling you to her side, ruffling your hair, kissing the temple of your head gently. She was a true mom to everyone - even for a girl that spent only two months in Hawkins during the summer holiday. Even to a girl she hadn't seen in years.

She was something you never had, so you leaned into the touch of her small, warm palms, calming words and slow, caressing movements. Then you sat back up, smiling at her, drying your tears off.

“Can you get it to the truck?” - Joyce looked at Jonathan as he stood up. He nodded without any further thinking.

“I need to give Y/N something. I talked to El and we agreed on it.” - She smoothed your cheek and kissed the other one tenderly. So, you followed her thought the empty house, thinking about your memories.

You could name the exact spot where Steve almost killed himself when he jumped off Jonathan’s bed onto the heating, hitting his forehead into the heater. You could exactly see their old sofa where you braided Nancy’s hair and you could say where the dinner table always stood. Hopper always sat there while he drank coffee with Joyce and her man. Lonnie was really fine... At times, before he left. He was a douchebag overall, though.

The sweet memories made you smile again until you approached the gang consisting of children only standing there in a circle with Eleven in the middle, holding a box named ’HOPPER’ in big, dark green letters. It was almost like a cult initiation. You were sure it was one.

“I want you to have it.” - El said quietly and put the box on the ground, opening it. It was an old police uniform; the one which belonged to Hopper. It was dirty and smelled pretty bad, still having his sheriff’s badge on it. You took the shirt into your palms, caressing it between your fingers as other tears rolled down your cheeks. Then you looked at El.

“Are you sure, baby girl?” - You asked and tried to contain your emotions as everyone was watching you with a sad face. El slowly gulped, getting on her knees as well, but then she nodded. She looked happy at that moment, contained with happy memories at Hopper.

“She wanted to keep it, but wouldn’t be for too much on use since it would only lay in the cabinet. You can wear it for work. Maybe it is too big for you and you will definitely need to wash it, but it has your name on it already, see?” - Joyce pointed at the small golden badge with Hopper on it in black letters. You leaned your head into her shoulder. A true legacy. - “I know he would want you to keep it. It will look good on you after you wash it.”

“If you say so, Joyce.” - You smiled a bit, taking the box from El’s hands, fetching it into the trunk of your car. You stayed there until the very end, looking at the kids saying their last goodbyes. It made you cry as well, it was so sweet.

Even Joyce hide behind the truck to have a little moment to herself. She hated when she saw her boys or their friends sad and crying. Joyce Byers was just the most amazing woman and mom you had ever met.

Even if you didn't expect it at all, you got hugs as well. The one from Will was a shy, quick one with that shy boy’s smile painted on his lips. Jonathan couldn't be as much different from his brother as he was - this boy held you firmly for a few seconds, he actually hugged you so tight you couldn't breathe for a second and screamed loudly with laughter.

“Better watch it here or I will come back and kick your ass.” - He said jokingly, patting your shoulder. You opened your mouth and laughed too, hitting him gently as well. - “Sure. Keep on dreaming, Byers, because that's not going to happen.” - You patted his shoulder as well, bringing him in for one last quick hug - then you left him, so he could say goodbye to Nancy.

Eleven came to you after she kissed the soul out of Mike’s tall and slim body - she hugged you tightly. You maybe weren't exactly the closest, but you were something like sisters from one point of view.

That was the magic Jim Hopper could do when he wanted to. He was bringing people together. He brought El and Mike so close he couldn't stand him anymore. But your bond would make him happy.

“If something, you can always call me.” - You looked her in the eyes as she continued crying. She was such a lovely girl. - “I know you would rather talk to Max, but I’m here too. I’ll be waiting for a call at Hop’s old number, okay?” - You asked and she nodded, unable to speak in words. But her tears were giving you an idea of what the was feeling.

“And we repaired your old room. You will be always welcomed in that house.” - You kissed her forehead, snuggling her closer again.

When they were leaving, you stood there with Nancy and the remaining kids, watching the cars leave, not even waving. Most of you were still crying your eyes out, so you were too dazzled to actually say goodbye. Just minutes after the cars disappeared, you looked at Nancy.

“Need a ride home? The kids are taking the bikes apparently.” - You asked and took the keys to your car out of your pocket. Nancy nodded, smiling at you with the typical Wheeler smile. - “Also, if you want to, you can stay the night at my place. You would feel less alone and the cabin would feel less scary.” - You smiled at her when you both were sitting in the car.

“I guess so. It would be fine to talk to you after such a long time. I miss our summer adventures.” - Nancy said shyly and you stopped yourself from starting the car, looking her in the eyes, holding the steering wheel in your palms.

“I do too. So, off to the supermarket and VHS store it is, I guess.” - You looked into the mirror showing you the space behind the car and started the old Chevy’s motor.

#stranger things #joyce byers #jim hopper #eleven #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #max mayfield #dustin henderson #will byers #jonathan byers #lucas sinclair #stranger things netflix #after series 3 #time after time #cyndi lauper #inspired by

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lumilasi · 5 years

Photo

EDIT: I had to add the feather on his hair now that I’ve written the actual scene this relates to.

Here’s the scene this is from:

Violinist, ch 21

Tomura sighs, using his free hand to rub his eyes for a bit. Toga says nothing for a long moment, just examines his freshly painted nails in her thoughts. He did not blame her for the worry he could sense oozing off her. She knew firsthand how difficult it was to…go through all that.

“What triggered them?”

She asks quietly after a moment, lifting her gaze to look up at him cautiously, squeezing his hand lightly.

The pale figure bites his lip, squeezing the hand back, but doesn’t look back at her, unable to bring himself to do it.

“The anxiety…I…dropped my violin accidentally. It was fine, the damage was minimal, but…”

Toga just nods, understanding. Tomura had talked to them about the violin, it’s significance and effect on him. Keeping it…both her and Hawks felt probably hadn’t been the best idea, but it was too late to take it back.

“And the other one?”

Tomura huffs out a sigh, then turns, offering his other hand to her. Wordlessly, she picks another bottle, this time a vivid crimson red, and starts painting the nails on his other hand. It probably wasn’t very practical doing both before either was dry, but Toga could tell he needed an excuse for her to not be looking at him as he spoke.

“I had an argument with Dabi. Now I doubt it’s just him, I’d…there was a lot of accumulated stress.”

Tomura begins, keeping his gaze fixated on the vivid color she was applying to his fingernails. Part of him kind of wished she hadn’t picked such a blood-like color, but he didn’t want to tell her to change it.

“He…he said some things that made me…think of…dad.”

Toga pauses, her grip on his hand tightening for a bit, and Tomura could feel the angry, protective little-sister urges raising up from her.

He stops Toga before she could get truly mad however.

“He didn’t mean any of it, and honestly, he had every right to be mad at me. I….let’s just say I’ve not been the most pleasant host or a “job” to follow around.”

Himiko’s grip loosens for a bit, but the way she was chewing on her lip indicated the girl was still not happy with what he’d told her.

“Either way I…well I sneaked out at night, because I was…he happened to notice and came after me.”

“Why did he follow you? Sounds like he’s the one being stalky.”

“Himiko, he was hired as my bodyguard, it’s his job.”

Tomura reminds her with a slight amused smile, though it fades quickly, his expression turning more contemplative. Sun shone through between the cracks on her curtains, giving everything in her room a slight golden hue. He rarely felt at ease anywhere, but right now it did feel like it was a bit easier to breathe.

“He managed to stop me from actually hurting anyone, or anything. I think he was genuinely worried, seeing me act like that.”

Toga hums, putting away the red nail polish too, and Tomura brings the hand closer, examining the nails calmly. As he thought about it, the pale figure began to understand why she’d chosen this color, remembering the decoration still stuck in his hair, tucked behind his ear.

“They match the feather.”

He comments, and she nods a bit, flashing him a smirk.

“I noticed Hawkie hunted you down before I could!”

"What does he do here exactly? How long have you both been living in Kamino?"

"Oh, I moved in two months ago, but got kicked out from my apartment. Magne was nice to take me in. I think Hawkie works as some sort of youth counselor around here."

She pauses, holding her chin thoughtfully.

"I think...he was here already when I moved in. I dunno how long though, I haven't talked to him that often as we're both so busy."

Tomura hums with a nod, then a slight, amusing memory pops into his head.

“It was kind of amusing; I half-expected him and Dabi duke it out right there and then when they met.”

“The toasty was trying to make a chicken nugget? Are you sure you don’t want me to stab him?”

Tomura chuckles at that, looking up at her with an equally playful smirk, though the expression softens again after a moment, and Toga shifts to sit right beside him, resting her head on his shoulder while he tugged his knees up, allowing his hands to rest on them, waiting for the nails to dry.

“No need, it's just Hawks being protective as usual, and with the kind of face Dabi has, it was kinda given he'd get a little...how did he put it again?"

Tomura pretends to think for a moment, then flashes her an amused smirk.

"It ruffled his feathers."

Toga let's out a giggle, laughing so hard she almost falls off the bed, though manages to catch herself before she could do it.

"Oh my god, he still does those puns?"

"Apparently. I'm kind of dismayed to see he hasn't really grown up one bit."

"Aww c'mon! It's not that terrible!"

Tomura just pretends to grimace, making her snicker some more. Eventually though, the laughter dies down, as Toga spots the exhausted, soft look on his face.

I feel like I can no longer draw girls. meh

Anyway, this is a scene that will pop up in Violinist, probably either in the next chapter or the chapter after that. These two just catching up and spending sibling/childhood friend bonding time together.

I decided to put a random pattern on the wall as just leaving it the blank color it was felt a little boring.

#Lumi's art scribbles #Musician Tomura #violinist fic #violinist!Tomura #violinist!au #shigaraki tomura #shiragaki tomura #bnha tomura #mha tomura #toga himiko #mha himiko #himiko toga #bnha himiko #bnha toga #my fic au

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sarakuper · 4 years

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San Rafael; Work Away

Stop #3, December 21-January 7

Our time in San Rafael was very relaxing, thrilling, and interesting. Some days we spent doing little to nothing, which was nice for a few days but too boring for me at some points. Other days Sean and I did some awesome activities pushing us both way out of our comfort zones. Lastly, we experienced authentic Colombian culture first hand. Being there for holidays and festivals meant we were there for some of the most quiet and exciting days of the year.

When we arrived on Saturday we had no idea what to expect. This stop being our first WorkAway, we wondered…what work would we be doing? How many hours were expected of us? Are any meals included? For that first day we hung out and enjoyed the beautiful location at the hostel, which is located on a steep hill, completely open and overlooking the city. It’s totally lush and absolutely beautiful. The view alone is a reason to spend all day in the hostel relaxing.

There are 3 people who own the hostel, all Colombian, and all in their 20’s. Lili was there when we arrived, Manuel arrived the next day (Sunday), and Laura arrived after spending Christmas with her family in Medellin. Immediately after arriving Sean and I fell in love with their cat Canela, which is “cinnamon” in Spanish. We thought she was a kitten because she isn’t full sized, but it turns out she is an old lady! She lived on the property with the previous owner, who was thought to be not very kind to her. When Lili, Laura, and Manuel bought the place about a year ago, Canela was pregnant with a dead litter. They paid to have them surgically removed, and since then Canela has been their beloved pet. She is so cuddly and sweet. She jumps on your lap for pets or a nap, and she answer to your calls. She’s the kind of cat that acts like a dog. We immediately fell in love with her. It’s not like we are trying to fill a void or anything... :)

When Manuel arrived on Sunday we discussed the work we would be doing; we would redo the kitchen (and it really needed it) and lunch would be provided. We started making plans for this work Monday morning. I was going to repaint the kitchen and organize it differently while Sean would build some cabinet doors and shelves. Our work load was different each day. Sometimes we felt good with the work we were doing that we spent hours doing it. Other days we did little to nothing. Either way, Leidy and Karen came every morning to clean the hostel, and during our first week Leidy cooked us lunch too. And wow did she cook us the most delicious healthy food!!!

Leidy and Karen live in the same building as the hostel/language school in a separate apartment. Leidy is probably in her late 30’s or early 40’s, and Karen is her 10 year old daughter. Neither of them spoke a word of english, but they quickly became a big part of our trip in San Rafael. Since Karen was off from school she came to help her mom cook and clean every morning. One morning I was doing some henna on hands and legs when Karen told me “linda!” which means “cute” or “pretty” in Spanish. I asked her if she wanted one, and when she said yes I told her to ask her mom first. Next thing you know, I was giving henna tattoos to both Karen and Leidy; mandala type flowers on their legs and their names written on their wrists. I wish I took a photo of this, but I didn’t :(. I did however take a picture of my henna, and finally took a picture with Leidy and Karen on our last day.

From then on, Karen and I would hang out together almost every morning. She would help me study Spanish while also helping her mom work. I would pull up a new vocabulary word I wanted to learn from an app on my phone, and she and I would practice using that word in a sentence. She would then correct my awful grammar before moving on to the next new word. Some evenings after that I saw Karen and Leidy hanging out outside or walking into town. We always talked and all made efforts to communicate as much as possible. My broken Spanish was enough to connect with both of them, but what it really highlighted was that you don’t need to speak the same language to express love and kindness.

Over Christmas Eve we joined Lili’s boyfriend, Brandon, at his house where he was hosting a BBQ. And that’s exactly how Colombians celebrate Christmas; they BBQ on the street with beers and loud music. And they were kind enough to grill lots of veggies for me :)

During our time in San Rafael we experienced some epic thunder storms. It rained almost every night, and being in a hostel where the common area is wide open made the storms so fun. Normally when we went into town we did so in the evening and nights, only because the days were so hot, and so walking up and down the hills to the city center was a bit warm… but, every time we went out at night it was like a guessing game if we would get poured on. Every night was cloudy, so there was really no telling. It made it a little more fun :) I love rain in warm weather!

Another day, after working and panting in the morning, we went to the nearest watering hole for a quick swim. Lili’s mom was in town, so we went together plus Bendzhi, a Chinese girl staying at our hostel long term. The watering hole was amazing for people watching. So many locals go there to cool off and swim. Kids ands dogs run around everywhere while vendors sell snacks from fresh fruit to churros. I wish I had photos, but it was better to bring little to nothing since we were ditching our stuff to go swimming.

Steve was another guy at our hostel, probably in his mid 40’s, and from Canada. We spent a good amount of time with him, especially after hiking to a waterfall with him, and Manuel. The hike was pretty short but beautiful. We walked right by horses and cows/bulls before approaching the waterfall.

Just before NYE Lili left to spend time in San Carlos, another town about an hour west, for the next month or so. Laura and Manuel both went to meet Manuel’s family, and so Sean and I had the hostel to ourselves. We went out in town and hung out at a bar until midnight, when everyone got up to hug and kiss each other. Soon after Sean and I went home to hit the hay. Neither of us were feeling great (my throat was sore and he had an allergy attack), plus we don’t particularly care much for this holiday.

Something I loved about staying at this hostel was that on most days a group of small monkeys would come looking for food. Of course we bought bananas in preparation of this, and fed them quite often. They are so small and so cute!!! They would call at us until we fed them their beloved bananas.

The most exciting thing we did during our time in San Rafael was a canyoneering trip with Manuel, his sister Julianna, and her husband Freddy. We hiked to a spot along a river, got into wet suits and harnesses, and began our decent in the river. We slid down the rocks, jumped off cliffs, and repelled our way through the river. Sean’s fear of heights kicked in during the last part of the activity. But, there we were.. and there was no turning back! This trip was short, but seriously one of the coolest things we’ve done. We were so high on life from the awesome adventure it was!

Another day Manuel and Laura invited us on a fishing trip again with his sister and brother in law. We fished along a river, and although Sean and I both didn’t catch anything we still enjoyed the experience very much. Colorful birds where flying all around us, calling out to each other, and it was really beautiful to watch. Eventually we made our way to a waterfall where we “parked” our boats to go explore. We climbed to the top of the waterfall where we found a beautiful swimming hole to enjoy all to ourselves. We explored deeper, climbing up the next small waterfall. It was absolutely stunning, and easily the highlight of the fishing trip. We swam and jumped off the rocks (don’t worry- Manuel, a certified guide, checked to see that they were safe first) while enjoying all the beauty around us.

The next day we had the opportunity to visit a Panela farm, watching its production from start to finish. Panela is the natural sweetener widely used here in Colombia, and I think a lot of Latin America. It comes in thick blocks that are chipped at and use as sweeter for many of their drinks, specifically chocolate (the drink) and natural juice. We started by crushing the sugarcane using a machine, followed by a long cleaning process to purify the juice before it crystalizes into a sugar. The colombian family that owns the farm has been making Panela all their lives. The whole operation is run between 4 siblings; 3 brothers and 1 sister, all in their 70’s. The abuela welcomed us into her beautiful home and made us breakfast, and then lunch once it got late enough in the afternoon. I am so grateful to have been welcomed to this family’s farm and home with arms open wide. The love they put into this work, and the history behind it all makes it so special. For so many reasons this day was one I will never forget.

One of the last events that went on while we were gone (and yes, wow, a lot has really happened) was Festivo del Rio, festival of the river. We are not sure how the name is related to the celebrations, but what we do know is that this small town fills up with tons of Colombians from all over the country to come celebrate this festival at San Rafael. Restaurants were packed, the hostel we stayed at was fully booked, and the streets were crowded with happy people. On Friday night we watched part of the parade, where structures of mythical creatures ran the streets breathing fire and pure fun.

At the beginning of this post I wrote that times during this leg of the trip I was bored, yet I didn’t get to writing any of this post until the bus ride out of town. I didn’t realize how many special experiences we had until it was time to write about it. But thats exactly why I do this :)

And now that I am writing this while on the bus leaving San Rafael, it feels bitter sweet to leave. This town is so authentically Colombian. The only other English speakers we met were 3 others from our hostel, one Canadian, one American, and one Chinese who spoke English fluently. Saying goodbye was so sweet, as Laura told me that seeing my face is like getting a dose a diabetes. There’s a bit of a language barrier there.. but what she was saying is that I’m so sweet and she feels that every time she sees my face 😂. As for Leidy and Karen... well Leidy starting to cry. I told her “I miss you” in Spanish because I have no idea how to speak in future tense to say “I will miss you”. Karen, her 10 year old daughter who was my best friend on this leg of the trip, gave me hugs goodbye. I will miss practicing Spanish with her very much. She actually knows how to explain things to me better than the adults!

Anyway, I am so looking forward to Josh’s arrival! This is just the start of what I think will be a very fun month with friends (Sam and Victoria next week) and then my mom and cousin Maria in Cartagena!

Thanks for reading fam, love you all.

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shipmistress9 · 5 years

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FTLOAP - 39: Once Upon A Time We Had A Lot To Fight For. We Had A Dream, We Had A Plan

Fandom: HTTYD

Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.

Rating: Explicit

FF-net - AO3 -

Discord-server for discussions and questions

Part 1: Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11;

Part 2: Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23; Chapter 24; Chapter 25; Chapter 26; Interlude 2; Chapter 27: Chapter 28 ; Chapter 29 ; Chapter 30; Chapter 31; Chapter 32; Interlude 3; Bonus 1; Chapter 33

Part 3: Chapter 34; Chapter 35; Chapter 36; Interlude 4; Chapter 37; Chapter 38

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

AN: Okay, this was a tough chapter to write, though for once not because of the content. Let me tell you about the fourteen days since I last updated. The first nine I had writer's block and couldn't get even one word down for this story. Then followed two days where I was on quite a high and got down 7k words, which is a lot for me. And after that, there were two and a half days through which I struggled again to get anything done, which left me and my alpha-reader with less than half a day for edits. I still can't believe it's actually done by now, and if it sucks... well, then I'm sorry!

In addition, I'm not quite sure of this chapter. It got awfully long, but somehow I feel like nothing happens. I mean, I know that's not true. But still, it feels off. Well, it's something of a bridge chapter, I guess.*sigh*

This week's chapter owes its title to a friend who made me listen to The Rasmus again after many years of not thinking much about this band. And when I listened to 'Sail Away'... well, the very first lines of lyrics of that song just really hit me. They fit so well to how Hiccup and Astrid feel right now.

Also, a special shoutout to @lauracalabresi Thank you for your comments over the last few days, they were a great encouragement! ^^

. o O o .

Hiccup couldn’t remember how he’d made it back to the stables, nor how the night had passed in any specific detail. It was all just a blur of pain and sorrow, of desperation and hopelessness. It was over. Everything was over. It was true what he’d told Cami once, after all, that his entire life only revolved around her. But now, she was gone, and he didn't even understand why. He’d been so sure...

But now, it seemed as if the Gods had abandoned them, if not for that guttering spark in his chest that kept reminding him of her, cruel and unrelenting.

When Eret arrived at the stables, hours after the sun had risen, Hiccup was still sitting in his stall, unmoving, staring blankly out the small window, and registered nothing until his cousin’s broad hand touched his shoulder.

“Hey, Hiccup. You okay?”

Slowly, Hiccup turned to look at Eret, and forced a wry grin to his face.

“Hey. Yeah, I’m just… just tired, I guess. I’m sorry, I didn’t finish polishing all of your kit, but I’ll get back to that today.”

Eret gave him a scrutinising look, but nodded, accepting this explanation. “That’s fine, I won’t need it right away. But–” He paused, his eyes on Hiccup’s injured and bandaged hand. “What’s this?”

Quickly, Hiccup covered the hand with the other one. “Nothing. I cut myself, but it… it’s nothing.” At some point last night, the pain of the cut had eventually registered in his mind, but it was still too dull and unimportant to matter. All it did was remind him of her hands on his as she’d attended to the cut. Probably the last time he’d ever felt her touch… He swallowed, then made an effort to appear normal. “Anyway, what brings you here today? Don’t you need to do some training, or so?”

Eret still looked at him funny, but then shook his head. “Maybe later. But I came here for another reason. The thing is… I’m going to need my squire from now on. The hunts start tomorrow and then there’s the first small tournament in a few days, and… I already talked to father and we agreed that it will be safe enough now to keep these hotheads–” he nodded at the stallions, “– in a separate part of the main stables, now that the herd isn’t there anymore and there’s enough free space. They need to get used to that anyway. So... for the rest of our stay, you’re going to be my squire full time, which also means you’ll have to move; I can’t afford the time for you to hike back and forth to these stables. We could move to our townhouse, where there’s enough space for you to have your own room… but Grandfather’s staying there and...” he shrugged helplessly.

Hiccup needed a moment to wrap his head around what Eret had said. He seemed to be sorry for some reason, but Hiccup actually couldn’t see why. As much as he’d enjoyed the solitude of these outer stables during the past months, a change like this seemed like the best thing that could happen to him right now. It would keep him busy, would keep him from mentally tearing himself apart. It would keep him from remembering all the nights they’d spent here...

And then the rest of it registered. Oh. Right. His grandfather, who thought of him as a failure. Well, he was right, after all, but that didn’t mean Hiccup needed to hear it from the old prune.

“So what else is there?”

“Sharing a room in the squire barracks or the couch in my rooms,” Eret said apologetically, and then hastened to add, “It’s clean! I promise!”

Hiccup almost laughed – out of humour or despair, he had no idea. But he managed to keep the smile up. “The couch will do,” he murmured.

Something like a relieved smile played around Eret’s lips. “I’d hoped you’d say that. Dag and I already organised a trunk for your things and while it’s not an enclosed room, you’ll at least have a separate corner for yourself there. A little bit of privacy. Come, I’ll help you pack your things, then we can get the horses ready to be moved.”

Not having any reason to hold back, Hiccup got to work. His few possessions were quickly tossed in a rucksack – with Hiccup carefully avoiding a certain object hidden between the straw bales least Eret would ask unnecessary questions – before they turned their attention to the horses. All the while, Hiccup felt as if Eret was throwing him weird looks every now and then, but it never became so obvious that he felt like asking about it. To him, it wasn't important, and if Eret wanted to talk about something… well, then he could bring it up. Which he eventually did.

They had just started their way to the main stables – with Hiccup riding Chomp and leading Hunter at his side while Eret rode Squish and led Crusher – when Eret eventually broke the silence. "So… what do you think of these… new plans?"

Hiccup snorted. "What's there to think about?" he asked and tried not to sound as bitter as he felt. "I’m your squire and I would have needed to fully act like it by now anyway. So this is good, a change for the better.” Wrong! “And in case you meant the… the festivities... It's the King's right to entertain his people with hunts and tournaments and whatever else he's planned. It might even get interesting for us.” He forced himself to shrug nonchalantly in case Eret was still watching him.

“Yeah, interesting might be the right word.” Eret let out a deep sigh. “But that’s not what I meant. I mean this whole wedding scheme. I don’t get why Uncle Osmond thought that was a good idea. Or Daniel or my father, for that matter.”

Hiccup’s hands around Chomp’s reins tightened; it made him wince when the cut stung and the stallion snort in annoyance. Was Eret honestly asking him what he thought about her impending wedding? If he hadn’t been in danger to spill out exactly what he was thinking, he might have laughed. Instead, he just said, “Same answer. I don’t think it is my place to question the King’s decision. She’s going to marry one of these noblemen for the sake of the Kingdom. That isn’t really different from what was planned before, right?”

“True,” Eret admitted reluctantly. “But it still doesn’t feel right. And it’s certainly not right for Swanja! From what Snot said last night, she isn’t herself anymore. She lost her spark, her wit. He said she’d tried to appear unperturbed, as usual, but he saw right through her. All this must have hit her pretty hard; she was devastated at her birthday dinner. She wouldn’t even let us help or comfort her, for Odin’s sake!”

He sounded tense, worried, and Hiccup was incredibly glad that they’d reached a narrow path by now that wouldn’t allow them to ride side by side. It meant Eret couldn’t see his expression of soul-deep pain and self-loathing. Devastated… That seemed like an apt description of her the last few times he’d seen her. And it had been his fault.

Everything was his fault! And always had been… If he’d spoken his mind more firmly all those years ago, about not losing their connection to the Kingdom, his father might have stood up against their fellow tribesmen. If he’d acted more like the tribesman their people had expected him to be, they wouldn’t have been so openly against him being the heir to the High Chief’s title. If they hadn’t lost their standing within the tribes, his parents and siblings might still be alive and he would be a knight by now too. He could even participate in this competition for her hand as a ducal heir himself.

The thought was too good to be true, literally, and, unable to bear it, Hiccup pushed it aside. They all had thought they’d been doing the right thing back then, and reprimanding himself for it now, when he knew better, wouldn’t do him any good. Besides, he didn’t even need to go that far back into the past to pin down his mistakes.

He should have stayed away from her in the first place. The idea that, after all the things he’d messed up, his life could change for the better… this too had been too good to be true. Again, he’d made the wrong decision by becoming Eret’s squire just to be able to see her again, and now, she was paying the painful price for his impudence. Oh, he’d thought he’d been right back then, too. But the pain in her eyes last night was wholly and entirely his own fault, and any attempt of his to comfort her was bound to only hurt her more.

There was nothing he could do to help her.

Except…

“Don’t worry,” he heard himself say, oddly calm and composed. As if it wasn’t really him who was speaking. “What was is you said once? The Princess is a fighter. She’s tough. This whole wedding thing took her by surprise, but I’m sure she’ll accept it, eventually. She’ll come around and then you all can be there to support her when she’s ready for that.”

Eret grunted, but didn’t say any more until they’d reached the end of the narrow pass where he waited for Hiccup to take his place next to him. “You’re right,” he admitted, face turning to Hiccup, who was now focused entirely on keeping his feelings locked away as deep inside himself as possible. “But this is still different. Our fathers want her to marry one of us. How can we support her as her brothers when everyone is looking for signs as to who she’ll choose as her betrothed?”

“But maybe that’s the point,” Hiccup replied with a light shrug. “She was to marry one of you anyway, wasn’t she? Maybe it’s time to get over how you grew up like siblings and start seeing each other as what you are. An option. I… I think I know her well enough by now to say that she won’t spontaneously fall in love with one of those strangers her father presented to her. But a love match was never a likely possibility – for neither of you. And I remember what Daniel said on that first night we spent here, your accolade. He said that you would be good for each other, and… and I agree.”

Saying those words felt like a hungry beast tearing at the dead remains of his heart and soul. It hurt! But it was better this way. His own pain he could deal with, but hers? Not so much. And if it wasn’t within his power to help her directly, then the least he could do was send comfort in another form.

As they rode on, Hiccup was aware of Eret’s scrutinising gaze on him, and all he could hope for was that he wouldn’t see how Hiccup felt inside. But he didn’t say anything else until they reached the stables where a group of grooms quickly took over the horses to lead them to their new stalls.

“Hey, Hic,” he eventually spoke again once they were alone. “I know I offered to help, but… Would it be all right for you to get Markor and Cassie on your own? They shouldn’t give you any problems, after all. And I’ll take your bag up to my rooms, and…” he paused, grimacing, then shook his head. “There’s a message I have to send and I need to see whether I can find Dagur. Gotta talk to him…” He ran a hand through his hair, and if Hiccup wouldn’t be feeling so dead inside anyway, he’d be sorry for his cousin. It wasn’t only she who’d gotten thrown into this mess, after all…

But still, it was better this way.

“Sure,” he agreed with a sympathetic smile and a clap to Eret’s shoulder. “See you tonight then.”

On his way back to the outer stables, he wasn’t able to control his thoughts and emotions any longer though. He didn’t cry; after last night he didn’t think he had any tears left, but the pain still returned in full force.

It’s better this way, he kept chanting to himself. No matter how much the thought of her marrying Eret or one of her other brothers hurt, it was still the best option there was. She would have a good life with a husband who respected her as a person and not just saw her as an object, who cared for her. It might not be the right kind of love that connected them, but at least there was some form of affection, enough for her to eventually find comfort in her fate. It was all that was left for him to hope for.

And if she chose Eret… Well, Hiccup did feel sorry for him and Dagur. Even with knowing that their relationship couldn’t last, having it end this abruptly couldn’t be easy either. No wonder Eret had wanted to talk to his lover.

Once back at the outer stables, he concentrated on getting Cassie and Markor ready. It was a welcome distraction, and the familiar motions and the simple affection the horses offered gave him comfort, Cassie especially. She’d been with him for so many years now, had been his only support during trying times, and now easily adapted to his pain again. He took several minutes just scratching her and accepting her rubbing her nose to his chest, until something like a smile was back on his face. Not a happy but at least a content one.

The smile didn’t last long though, only until he entered Markor’s stall. The gelding directly looked up at his visitor, clearly hoping and then being disappointed as it wasn’t who he’d hoped it would be. The sight gave Hiccup a new sting, and he did his best to cheer the horse up by rubbing and cuddling his neck.

“I know, I know. I miss her too,” he whispered, hiding his face against the gelding’s warm fur. It was three days now since she’d last been here – a long time considering how often she’d been here during the past three months. No wonder Markor missed her, especially since he couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t come. “But don’t worry, boy. She’ll get back to you. You’ll see.”

Hiccup let himself feel comfort from the horses’ presence for a few minutes longer, before he got them both ready. He struggled a bit with which saddle to put on Markor, but then decided on the ridiculously decorated side saddle. It was the official saddle, after all, and he would need to ask Eret where to store the unofficial but more practical one.

When he was done, he let his gaze wander through the stables that had been his home during these past wonderful months, and gulped. Leaving this place for good felt like a sign. It was truly over, and their time really had only been borrowed, had never been intended to last.

He was about to leave when he remembered the one thing he’d left here before and hurried back to his former sleeping stall to retrieve it. If anyone was to find it by chance, it would only raise unnecessary questions. Hesitantly, he picked up the small swan-shaped oil pot. His chest was tightening – at the sight, at the memories, and at what it stood for. He’d been so grateful to Cami for this gift, not just because of why she’d given it to him but also because of what else it represented. He’d meant to keep it during the weeks and months of their separation, as a reminder and a promise for better times. The scent of the oil alone would have served to comfort him over missing her. But now? Now, it only hurt to look at it, the cool ceramic feeling as if it was burning his skin. All it did now was remind him of what could never be.

With a low suppressed sob, he stowed it away into a pocket, then left the stables without looking back. He tried to leave it all behind him as he once more rode down the path to the main stables on Cassie’s back, but his thoughts kept whirling around the pot and what it stood for. Why had the Gods abandoned them? He’d told her that maybe they’d been wrong, that they weren’t soulmates meant for each other after all. But he didn’t believe that, not really. She’d been right, he’d felt it too, the connection, their bond – and still felt it! All that had been real! And yet… And yet, the Gods had turned away from them, had separated them without leaving them any hope. Why? What had happened, what had changed?

A whirlwind of thoughts blew through Hiccup’s mind, thoughts that, in a way, added another layer of pain to his battered soul, but that, at the same time, made perfect sense.

It was all his fault.

With shaking hands, he pulled the pot back out of his pocket – leaving Cassie to find the way on her own – and stared at it. They’d gone too far... It made sense, now that he thought about it. This had to be what had angered the Gods. Them ignoring the rules, getting intimate before it was allowed. A part of him wanted to blame Cami for her support, for her assurance that it would be all right as long as they kept to certain rules. But Hiccup knew that wouldn’t be fair. It had been his decision to go further than he’d felt comfortable, than he’d been taught was allowed. He had ignored the rules he’d learned, had given in to his desire. He should have known better!

His breath became ragged as he kept staring at the oil pot and everything clicked into place. Them getting intimate must have angered the Gods. The timing was a clear indication. They’d gone too far, and before they’d been able to break another rule with their forbidden plan to have anal sex, the Gods had put an end to it. The timing was unmistakable.

It was all his fault!

A pained sob tore itself from Hiccup’s throat. Having lost her… that was bad enough. But now, he knew that it had been his own doing, that he should have known better. If he hadn’t been so foolish and selfish… their future would still be in reach.

Hiccup’s hand tightened around the pot – until it cracked. Without a warning, he was emerged in a cloud of intense mayweed scent, and it momentarily rendered him blind and deaf to everything around him. His mind got flooded with the memories he’d tried to hold back – of her smile, of her being in his arms, of burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply. Of the flush on her face and her little gasps, of the taste of her skin, of holding her through the night. Of all the things that could never be.

With a pained and desperate outcry, he hurled the pot away. He wasn’t looking, didn’t care where it might land. He only wanted to get rid of it, to never relive those memories again. It was too painful.

But when he heard the splash of water, he looked up after all, puzzled. Without him noticing, Cassie and Markor had paused near the little lake that used to house her swans, and the pot must have landed in there.

How fitting, Hiccup thought bitterly as he watched the waves on the surface getting smaller and fading away. Eret had told him about the swans’ fate, how that, too, had hit her. It felt oddly right that this place now was also where all their hopes, dreams, and plans for the future were buried. Forever.

He stayed for a little while longer, gazing at the now-calm lake, and let the pain wash through and out of him. It was over, and there was nothing he could do but accept it.

He let himself wallow for a little bit longer, then forced every remaining trace of pain into a distant corner of his heart to keep it locked there forever. From now on, he had to function. Be it the upcoming tournaments and other occasions or the possibility of still seeing her regularly in case she chose Eret – he couldn’t let her or anyone else see his pain.

From now on, he wouldn’t let his emotions slip ever again.

. o O o .

A part of Astrid still clung to the hope that she would eventually wake up. Nothing seemed real; not the days she’d spent getting introduced to all her suitors, not the evening meals she was to take in the usual company of her father, the Grand Dukes, and their sons, and not the nights when she lay awake crying or too agitated to fall asleep until exhaustion took over. And now, she sat beneath a neat little pavilion, overlooking the fighting grounds that were decorated for the first of many upcoming tournaments, and still didn’t feel as if she was fully awake.

The whole setting was just… surreal. The sudden snow from the previous week had all melted by now, but it was still rather cool, and the practical part of her mind was grateful for her gloves and the warm cloak she was wrapped in – even as her heart kept recalling the warmer days from not so long ago. Around her, everything seemed dull and bland, colourless beneath the grey sky, except the brightly painted flags and banners everywhere which seemed completely out of place. It all just felt wrong to her. And the fact that the men in the arena beneath somehow believed that fighting each other would gain them her favour was just absurd.

Not for the first time, a pained outcry sounded over the crowd followed by a wave of whispers as one of the fighters fell to one knee and clutched at his thigh. Blood quickly stained his blue-and-green-coloured clothes in shades of red, and Astrid hoped that the blow from his opponent's sword hadn’t severed his main artery. It was quite possible that he’d not survive if it had.

The thought upset her even though she didn’t feel as if there was much left of her to be upset. She’d probably talked to this man during the past days, and now, he might very well be dying a pointless death. And the worst was that, if he died, he wouldn’t be the first and certainly not the last one either.

The first had been an accident during a short hunting trip two days prior. The man’s horse had been wounded by a misguided arrow from one of his companions, and the fall off his horse’s back onto the uneven ground of the forest had caused severe injuries – or something like that. Astrid only dimly remembered how the King and the other men had talked about it during dinner. It had been one of three deaths on that day, and since then, the body count had only climbed higher.

And as much as the small sane part of her mind despised these unnecessary deaths, she still had to admit that they weren’t unusual. Accidents during hunts happened. Likewise, injuries during tournaments weren’t uncommon. Many of the young men who participated considered the event incomplete if they hadn’t gotten a scar out of it. Once she had agreed with that bit of joking humour, but now? Now, she just felt numb.

So it was with a heart of stone that she watched the loser be carried off to the healer’s tent, festooned with Freya’s symbol. He wouldn’t be the last victim of these festivities, that was for sure. But as much as she loathed that thought… it wasn’t what really bothered her.

As selfish and as vile as the thought made her feel, she couldn’t bring herself to care too much for these strangers who had all come to haggle over her future as if she was nothing but a pretty adornment for their household. They had known what they were in for.

Although… with a strong sense of unease, she remembered the half hour she’d had to spend with Thuggory the other day. And even though she tried to forget his words, they still lingered.

“So here we are, Milady Astrid, in a close and intimate conversation, just like it should be. I hope you’re enjoying my company, because you’d better get used to it.”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I will never become your wife. There’s nothing you can do to make me choose you!” It had been nearly the only words she’d said for days she actually remembered.

But Thuggory had only laughed. “Oh, you naive and stupid girl. You think I can’t force you to choose me? What if there’s nobody else left? What if I remove every other candidate until you see reason? You will become my wife, whether you want it or not.”

A shudder ran through her at that memory, and she quickly buried it in the depth of her mind. Thuggory could talk all he wanted, and chances were that he’d get himself killed. She didn’t even really feel bad for hoping for that outcome. But even that wasn’t what really concerned her.

No, what truly occupied her mind was the same topic that was ruling her every thought since the moment the King had made his announcement on her birthday.

She could see him standing at the side of the battleground, holding Eret’s substitute shield and sword ready in case his master might need them. It was the first time she’d seen him since he’d fled from her in the armoury that night, and even though she’d known he would be here, the sight of him had floored her completely.

During the last few days, her heart had… No, it hadn’t started to heal, but it had become numb. She’d refused to think about him, hadn’t let her consciousness dwell on what couldn’t possibly be true. He couldn’t have been right! This wasn’t the first time they’d encountered difficulties or misunderstandings, like when they’d first started to get intimate and he’d more or less avoided her for days. Back then, they had only needed some good advice and the chance to talk openly until everything was clear again. This was no different… wasn’t it?

Her eyes were burning, her lower lip starting to quiver, and she turned her attention back to the fighting men before she would burst out into tears in public. It will all be solved, she repeatedly thought to herself. We just need time to work it out.

But deep inside, she knew that this was very different from the little problems they’d encountered before. Because they already had talked. And it hadn’t solved anything. On the contrary, as much as she hated to admit it, the words he’d said to her at the armoury were not ones she could easily dismiss.

‘We’ve already lost.’

Yes, she’d refused to believe those words, but she also couldn’t simply dismiss them as wrong. No matter how much she wanted to ignore them or how much she tried to come up with a solution… she couldn’t find one. Maybe he’d been right after all...

This was another thought she’d vehemently ignored during the past days, but now… Seeing him standing there tore all wounds open anew. No, she didn’t want to believe that their shared future had been nothing but a pipe dream. But arguing against it became harder and harder, especially with seeing the utter hopelessness in his posture. Oh, he might be trying to hide it, to appear unperturbed and focused on his work – but she easily saw through him just like he’d always been able to see through her mask. She could see how much he was suffering, saw the pain in his hollow eyes. He’d said that he still loved her, that their feelings hadn’t been just their imagination. And yet, he’d clearly given up. There was no fight in him anymore, no strength to even consider fighting. He was broken, and seeing him like that broke her, too.

Biting down on her lip, hard, she gazed down at her hands, clenched into tight fists to keep them from trembling. So, what if he had been right? She’d tried her best to find a solution, but everything she’d brought up he’d warded off as impossible, and rightly so. And he who was so much smarter than her, who was able to think so quickly and come up with solutions for every problem… had given up. Slowly and against her will, the realisation seeped into her heart.

They’d already lost…

Once more, she glanced at where he stood and it felt as if her heart was breaking all over again. It was over, really and truly over. Her hand wandered to her chest as if to catch the shards and keep them together, but it was no use. A fresh wave of pain tore through her and it only got worse when she saw him grimace and mimic her gesture, his hand pressing to his chest as if he could feel it too. For a short heartbeat, he glanced up at where she sat and their eyes met. It was like a last goodbye, a last shared moment, the acknowledgement that he felt the same but that that didn’t change anything.

There was no hope left for them, nothing they could do.

. o O o .

The realisation left her feeling hollow, even more so than the pain of the announcement and his words had before. There was nothing left for her. Nothing to look forward to, nothing to hope or to fight for. All that was left to her was a dull and empty future with a man she didn’t care for while always remembering what she’d lost, what could have been. It was a frightening thought, and for two days, it was all she could think about, making her tumble deeper and deeper into her misery, until Ruff put an end to it.

“This can’t go on,” she exclaimed when she spotted the plate of once more untouched tea and biscuits. “I get that you feel horrible and I’m sorry, I really am. But you’ve got to eat! You can’t let yourself waste away just because that boy turned your head and broke your heart. No matter how much you might despise this and how little I like to remind you about it, you’ve got responsibilities.”

Astrid snorted, the only reaction that gave away she’d listened at all with her standing by the window and looking out over Lake Vola’s calm surface. Responsibilities… Yes, that was all that was left to her. Fulfilling the expectations placed on her, marrying to keep the Kingdom stable and popping out children for her future husband until her body gave up. It wasn’t any different from what she’d been prepared for all her life, but where before she’d accepted the thought with a certain composure and even a hint of pride to fulfil this duty, it now only made her feel dreadful. But who knew… maybe she would be lucky; maybe she would end like so many other women and not survive such a life for long…

She flinched when, without a warning, a hand touched her shoulder. “Milady, you’ve got to move on,” Ruff said urgently. It could have come across as cruel and cold-hearted, but Astrid knew her maidservant well enough. Most of all, she was practical. “I know it’s not easy, but you have to. You have a few hours left before today’s hunting party returns and you’ll have to welcome them back; how about you try and get on other thoughts until then, take a break? You could visit your horse; Tuff can escort you there. Or the herb garden? Maybe there are a few plants that already grow, or you could clean it up for the warmer days?”

Swallowing, Astrid closed her eyes. Ruff was right, and she knew that. She couldn’t continue like this forever, like nothing but an empty shell. Eventually, she would have to go on, to get over him. A tiny voice in the back of her mind was screaming at her that this was wrong, that she shouldn’t have to get over him, that they were meant to be… But she ignored it and hoped that, one day, the voice would disappear. So far though, it only threatened to tear her apart – the logical knowledge that they had no chance against the denial still simmering beneath – and she wrapped her arms around herself in a fruitless attempt to keep herself together. Suddenly, seeking distraction sounded like an excellent idea.

“Okay,” she whispered weakly. A slight frown crossed her face as she thought about Ruff’s suggestions though. The idea of visiting Markor was alluring, but even with him now housed at the main stables, he was too tightly linked to all those wonderful memories she tried to forget, and she wasn’t sure whether she could stand being near him yet. No, that wasn’t an option, and visiting the herb garden wasn’t an appealing idea either; it would only remind her of these last few days at the dead royal gardens where she’d been offered like meat to a pack of wolves. But what else could she do?

Something like a small smile tugged at her lips as she remembered another option, another place she could go and hide from reality, from who she was, and where she got treated like a normal person.

“Is Tuff ready?” she asked in a quiet but somehow steadier voice. “I’d like to go visit Fishlegs.”

Ruff reacted with an approving grin. She even went so far as to pack the biscuits and other pastries to take with her, even though Astrid felt odd bringing food Heather might very well have prepared herself as a gift. However, she understood that Ruff’s main motivation was her hope that Astrid might still eat something, so she didn’t say anything, and not even half an hour later she knocked on the door to her friends’ house.

There were grunts and the shuffling of cloth audible, even through the door, but it still took over a minute before a tired looking Fishlegs opened her. When he recognised her though, his face brightened. “Astrid! Now, that’s a surprise. Uh, come in, come in.”

He stepped aside and waved her in, threw a wondering look at Tuff but shrugged and closed the door again when her warder made no attempts to come in as well and instead stayed with the chickens outside. He hurried around on his short legs to which he owed his nickname, and picked up boxes and other stuff to make room for her.

Astrid hesitantly took the seat he eventually offered to her and watched him with a worried expression. “Is everything all right? Is this a bad time for me to visit?” she asked, a little self-consciously. She’d looked forward to coming here once the plan was made, but hadn’t spared even a second to think about whether her friends even had time for her. But Fishlegs directly warded her concerns off with a smile and a shake of his head.

“No, no, don’t worry. We were just taking a nap, but it’s time to get up anyway.” As if to contradict himself, he yawned. “Uh, sorry. ‘s been a tough few days, but who am I telling this… Still, it’s good to see you. How are you doing?”

Warding his question off with a grimace and a shrug, she began to unpack the parcel of treats Ruff had given her. She hadn’t come here to dwell even more on her situation though, so she directly changed the subject. “And you?”

Fishlegs gave a little shrug, then longingly eyed the biscuits. “May I?” He reached for one when Astrid nudged the parcel toward him without a word, and ate it with obvious delight. “Mmh, that’s good. Not sure when I last ate anything.” He took another one, and only continued speaking once it was gone, too. “I’m okay. Tired. Overworked. Usually, I wouldn’t take a nap at this time of day, but Master Mulch insisted on it. He claimed that I’ve been on my feet for over thirty hours – and the fact that I don’t know whether that’s true is probably proof enough. But there’s just so much to do! It’s like these men are actually out on getting severely injured. More than one even asked whether he’d keep a ‘cool scar’ out of it.” He shook his head and helped himself to another pastry.

Or others are out to get them injured, she thought, grimacing as she again remembered Thuggory’s sneer. She shuddered, but ignored Fishlegs’ inquisitive look. “So, what kind of injuries do you have to treat? Mostly cuts, I assume?”

“Aye. Or that’s my job, at least, while Master Mulch treats the more urgent injuries,” he nodded, then intently looked at her. “Do you remember how to treat such a cut?”

Astrid chuckled, surprising herself with the sound. It felt odd, as if her being happy was some form of betrayal. But that was a stupid thought; Ruff had been right in insisting for her to get distracted would do her good. And she also was incredibly grateful for Fishlegs to catch up on her mood so quickly.

“I think so?” she replied to his question, focussing on what he’d taught her. “First, you have to clean the wound, with clear water or maybe strong alcohol. Then you put willow bark tincture on it, for disinfection and against the pain. Depending on how deep the cut is, you might need to sew it shut with a good needle. At last, you cover the wound with moss to soak up blood, put a tight-enough cast around it, and threaten the patient with your eternal wrath in case they don’t give the wound enough rest to heal properly,” she recited Fishlegs’ former lesson – even though the last bit was her own addition. It had the desired effect as it made him laugh and congratulate her on still remembering.

They chatted for a while longer, with Astrid feeling lighter by the minute, until Heather joined them. She looked even more tired than her husband had, and gracelessly slumped onto the bench next to him. At first, she eyed the pastries Astrid had brought with a slightly wrinkled nose, but then shrugged and picked one to nibble on.

“Hey, love. Had a good rest?” Fishlegs asked, then jumped up, startling Astrid. “Wait, I’ll make you a mug of that herbal tea. Astrid, what about you?”

“Sure, why not,” she replied with an amused smile, then turned her attention back to Heather. “Lots of work for you too, I guess?”

Again, Heather shrugged. “Yes, but it’s manageable, all in all. Mostly providing refreshments for those watching the tournament and preparing and preserving whatever them men bring from those hunts. It’s not like the crazy increase of work Justin has.”

Astrid raised an eyebrow at her, which made the other woman chuckle.

“Yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking. I say that, but still, here I am, looking as if I’d been up for over three days straight.” She shook her head, a soft smile spreading over her face. “But I still say it’s not the work. I’m just kinda always tired lately. Maybe I’ve caught some bug, or so. It’ll pass.”

Before Astrid could reply anything, Fishlegs returned and placed a steaming mug in front of each. “So, here you go. But I’ve gotta leave you now. I’m sure we’ll get new patients once the hunting party returns, and I need to help Master Mulch prepare for that. Bye, Astrid. Was great to see you again.” He waved at her, bent to kiss Heather goodbye, and left.

Astrid reached for her mug, and hummed. She knew that the brew was too hot to drink it yet, but she could still enjoy the heat as part of the comfort around her, and she basked in it all, in this small sanctuary.

Until Heather brutally tore her back into reality.

“So, you’re getting married,” she stated.

It wasn’t a question, and when Astrid threw her a short baffled look before quickly averting her gaze she thought she detected a strange expression in Heather’s eyes. Pity, determination, and… satisfaction? But no, she certainly had imagined that last one, she thought and shook her head, chiding herself. She, too, was overly tired and exhausted, that was all. “Yes,” she breathed, the only answer she could think of. What else was she supposed to reply anyway? It wasn’t a secret, after all. Not anymore.

Heather watched her for a minute, quietly, and then sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said, sounding weirdly formal. “I remember what we talked about some while ago, and… Well, judging by how you haven’t openly proclaimed your love yet and your gloomy mood… I guess the one you had feelings for isn’t someone your father would approve of?”

Astrid pressed her lips shut, her hands around the mug tightening. This was not why she’d come here. She didn’t want to talk about this, about him, didn’t want to think. She wasn’t strong enough for that, not yet. “No, he’s not,” she mumbled weakly. “And-and it’s over anyway.” Saying it out loud, now that she knew it was true, hurt even more, and she hoped that Heather would drop the topic now. But apparently, she wasn’t that lucky.

“I see,” Heather sighed. “Well, again, I’m sorry for you. But this is part of what I meant, you know? When you asked me about how it feels to be in love and I told you to be careful? And it’s probably better this way anyway, that it’s over I mean.” She sighed again. “Gods, I sound heartless. I’d apologise, but what I wan– what I need to tell you won’t sound any better to you.”

Astrid wanted to make her stop talking, to order her if necessary, but she couldn’t find her voice. Unbiddenly, just thinking about him made images and memories flash through her mind, of his shining eyes when he smiled, of his touch when he cradled her cheek, of his warmth when he held her in his embrace. They flooded through her, leaving her powerless to rein them back in, and only Heather’s voice – even as it had caused this in the first place – was able to tear her out of it again.

“The thing is… I know that a marriage out of love is one of the best things that can happen to a person. But you are more than just an ordinary person! You aren’t just responsible for your own happiness, but also for that of your people. And even though I wouldn’t want to begrudge you a love match… I want to ask you to make a prudent choice. Please, think of your people.”

Astrid was trembling, but with the painful memories had also come the numbness of the last few days. As if her body and mind reacted on reflex, shutting down to ward off any harm. “What exactly are you asking of me?” she heard herself ask, her eyes on the little waves on the tea’s surface.

Heather gave a deep sigh. “I… I want to ask you to marry Dagur – or his horse-crazy boyfriend, if necessary. These two… with their impossible relationship and their refusal to marry and take responsibility, they’re a bigger threat to the Kingdom’s stability that those pathetic Malarians who can’t do anything but be an annoying pain at the border. Please, I-I’m begging you. It is within your power to separate them and end this selfish infatuation of theirs that so easily can turn half the Kingdom into chaos. Marry Dagur and give him an heir. It’s w-what the people need!”

There was a heavy silence once Heather stopped talking. To Astrid, it felt oppressive, like a thick blanket smothering everything; every sound, her thoughts, her movements, even the air to breathe. Only slowly, she managed to raise her head and to look at the other woman.

Heather was clearly afraid of having spoken her mind so openly. She was watching her with wide eyes, one hand over her mouth to cover it, the other wrapped around herself in something like a protective gesture. It was a funny sight, in a way. This woman, who had adamantly fought expectations and the people who had wanted to keep her in the place she’d been born into, was afraid of her, a powerless puppet who wasn’t even allowed to choose what she was wearing? It was ridiculous.

But Astrid felt too numb to laugh. Instead, she silently gazed at the woman who she’d thought of as a friend until now. “Thanks for the tea,” she eventually whispered, let go of the untouched mug, and rose to her feet to leave.

In passing, she heard Heather mumble another “I’m sorry!” but she wasn’t in a condition to accept the words.

Tuff looked up in surprise when she appeared next to him, but quickly caught on to her mood after he caught her expression. “Guess that didn’t go as Ruff hoped, eh? What a surprise… You wanna go back?”

Astrid nodded and mutely followed Tuff back to her chambers. And all the while, her head was spinning around what Heather had said.

How dare she? How dare she ask something like this of her? Essentially, it was the same thing the King had asked of her, the same he had suggested. But marrying Dagur – or Eret or Snotlout for that matter – that was insane! How could people even think of this option? It was ridiculous, and wrong, and simply impossible.

. o O o .

No matter how much Astrid tried to dismiss Heather’s suggestion as pure idiocy, the thought kept popping up in her mind at the weirdest of moments. Over and over, she mulled it over in her head, all the reasons why it was a stupid idea and could never work out. It was annoying – but she was still grateful for it. Thinking about this kept her mind occupied and prevented her from drowning in pain. At night, she was still helpless to the onslaught of memories, crying until she had no tears left, but at least during the day she was managing better now. And during dinner two days later, she was even able to pay attention to what happened around her again.

“Hey, Dag. Could you hand me the cheese plate?”

The question came from Snot next to her, and Astrid reacted without thinking as she reached for the plate that stood right in front of her and pushed it over to him.

“Uh… thanks, Astrid,” Snot grunted, clearly perplexed.

She gave him a nod and something like a small smile, then looked around into the astonished but smiling faces of her brothers. “What?” she asked, a little defensively. It wasn’t as if she usually was too proud to help either.

Eret’s smile softened a little. “Nothing. It’s just good to have you back.” She frowned, but he didn’t elaborate and she was grateful for that. She really hadn’t been here lately, had she?

With a low sigh, she reached for a bread roll and the cheese as well. She did it out of reflex, to not get scolded again for eating too little, and only after taking a first bite did she realise how hungry she actually was. Maybe Ruff had been right after all. Maybe it was time for her to accept the lot fate had dealt her and roll with it. As always, the thought came with a hidden, painful sting, but she refused to let it hit her, to even let the tiniest of thoughts about… about this topic reach her consciousness. She might be more composed now, but she certainly wasn’t strong enough for that. So when Eret addressed the older men at the other end of the table a minute later, she happily focused all her attention on their conversation.

“Uncle Spitelout? I know I’m asking this every night, but have you received any news from Daniel today?”

At that, Astrid looked up with real interest now. Whenever Spitelout was at the castle, he happily took over overseeing the royal pigeonry for the time being. She’d never understood his fascination with the birds, but then, everybody needed a hobby, she assumed. It made him happy and also meant that he was always informed about what kind of messages had left or reached the castle through the homing pigeons. And even with how twisted her thoughts about Daniel were these days, she was still eager to hear from him.

However, Spitelout, who’d just pushed his plate away with a clearly satisfied sigh, just gave a little grunt and shook his head. “Sorry, boy, but there still was no answer. The last time we heard from him was a week ago when he informed us that everything goes as planned.” He shrugged. “Beyond that, ‘No news are good news’. Besides, who knows whether your message has even reached him yet? My birds only fly to their nests in Westhill, after all, and from there a courier would have to be sent out to find him and deliver your message – and while we know where the Prince is supposed to be, itineraries in that region can be seen as little more than polite suggestions.”

“Looks like you’ll have to wait until he’s back, son,” Eret II added with an amused smile. “Just be a little patient, he’ll be back in two weeks anyway.”

Eret grunted, but didn’t ask anything else, and instead focused on his overly full plate.

Astrid had watched the short exchange with a bit of apparently obvious bewilderment, so Dagur, who seemed to have caught her puzzled look, now leaned over to explain in a low voice. “Eret sent a pigeon with a message to Westhill, a day or two after… well, after this whole mess started. I read a part of it and it was hilarious; a collection of not-very-nice insults and the repeated demand for what in the name of Hel’s pale tit Daniel had been thinking.” He shrugged, grinning. “To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if Daniel chose not to answer. I certainly wouldn’t. Either way, their next meeting is going to be fun. Chippy was fuming in the beginning, and I bet he’s still not entirely calmed down, though don’t ask me what exactly it was that had set him off like that. He didn’t even tell me.”

She threw a glance at Eret, and the tight grip with which he held his cutlery and the slightly troubled grimace on his face seemed to prove Dagur’s words true. It made her wonder. Sure, she didn’t have the most sisterly feelings for Daniel these days either; his knowing about this plan and not telling her felt like too much of a betrayal. But it made little sense for Eret to have the same reasons for his anger. She didn’t get the chance to further wonder about his behaviour though.

“I’ve got to agree, it’s good to have you back among the living,” came suddenly Snot’s voice from beside her, and when she turned to look at him, he had a wide grin on his face. “And since the kitchen provided us with this dish tonight... May I suggest you try this cold venison? It’s deer prepared after a recipe our chef in Westhill developed, and it is delicious.”

Perplexed, she watched as Snot placed a piece of the rosy meat onto her plate before she could even react. Then she grimaced, and shook her head. “No, thanks. No venison for me,” she mumbled. Snot couldn’t know her feelings there, of course. But she simply wasn’t able to eat any form of venison – or meat in general – lately. Not since her birthday.

“Snot, you really are an idiot, do you know that?” Dagur commented dryly as he reached over to pick the venison off her plate and devoured it whole. The sight made a small amused smile tug at her lips. Good manners weren’t exactly one of Dagur’s strong assets – and probably never would be.

Snot huffed, but didn’t further react to Dagur. Instead, he turned his attention back to Astrid and the cheese plate between them. “I’m sorry, how thoughtless of me. But… well, then how about this?” He cut off a piece of soft cheese with a greyish-yellow rind and held it out for her with a broad smile. “Father and I brought this on your father’s request; he liked it a lot the last time he visited Westhill. It has a rich and piney flavour that only develops when the cheese gets extra time to age.”

Hesitantly and with a slight frown, Astrid accepted the offered cheese, more out of reflex than of real interest. What was up with Snot? It wasn’t as if she didn’t know this behaviour from him; focussing all his attention on one person, being friendly and observant while more or less subtly advertising himself, his family, or his home. But so far, he’d never directed it at her! Was he actually flirting with her? He couldn’t be serious, could he? Surely, he had to be joking, overacting to throw it back into their fathers’ faces… right?

She looked at him, trying to detect something in his expression, a twitch of his lips maybe or an amused spark in his eyes. But there was nothing. Still trying to make sense of Snot’s behaviour, she took a bite of the cheese, but couldn’t help but grimace at the weirdly unctuous taste. “Urgh, sorry, but I think I’ll pass this one,” she said in as polite a tone as she could muster. She kind of appreciated Snot’s attention as it served as a good distraction, but it still left a strange aftertaste.

Hoping he would leave her be now, she wanted to reach for her glass of wine, but sighed when she found it empty.

“Here, let me get you a refill,” Snot directly prompted. He reached for one of the wine carafes at the end of the table, and before she could even blink her glass was filled again. “This one is another speciality we brought from Westhill, and if I remember correctly, you quite liked this one. ‘Rich-yet-not-overpowering berry fruit flavour surrounded with hints of cassis and cherry’ was your description, I think.”

Despite her annoyance at his renewed attention, Astrid couldn’t help but feel grateful, both for the wine and that he’d remembered. She tried a sip, and couldn’t help but hmm. The rich liquid tasted wonderful and made her relax almost instantly. Before she knew how, the glass was empty, and with a low, regretful sigh, she placed it back onto the table. She didn’t want to get drunk, couldn’t afford it, but the idea of getting rid of all her problems, if only for a few hours, was alluring. And the wine really did taste good.

So she didn’t object when Snot got her another refill, and didn’t even mind him directly diving into his next story about all the formidable vineyards they had in Westhill and how much more they could have.

With a resigned sigh, she settled on sipping her wine and tried to drone out his monologue. A part of her tried to reason that he certainly didn’t mean to annoy her into anger with his apparent flirting. Maybe she was just too over-sensitive and strained right now to detect the signs of joking.

Because he couldn’t be serious, right? He couldn’t be actually flirting with her. No matter what their fathers wanted, he was still her brother! But the longer the dinner lasted, the more plain his advances became and the more she wished to get away from him. Snot, like all of her brothers, had always been a source of comfort to her, but tonight she felt the opposite.

His behaviour reminded her of the impossible implication of her marrying one of them. Although, at least Snot didn’t seem to think it impossible, even though the thought made her shudder. Marrying one of her brothers… that was completely insane!

Wasn’t it?

. o O o .

Right...Yeah, it still feels like not much has happened in this chapter, but it's actually been a lot, I think. Many little things, development, preparation...Sorry if it sucks...

And I promise this is still very much a Hiccstrid story!

*jumps back into hiding*

Next chapter

#For The Love Of A Princess #FTLOAP #hiccstrid #hiccstrid fanfiction #hiccstrid angst #romance #Royalty AU #hiccstrid royal au #medieval au #Hiccstrid Medieval AU #httyd #Hiccup and Astrid

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igotmyrohatzenl · 5 years

Text

Heaven's Gift

pt. 1

Previous | Next

Jungwoo × Female Reader

Genre: Guardian Angel!au,Fluff, Future Angst

Summary: On every human’s 18th birthday, they are blessed by the heavens above. Their guardian angel will descend to be the type of person they need the most in their lives, what ever that may be; a sibling, parent, child, lover, best friend, etc. Well, it’s now Y/N’s turn, and she gets a young and inexperienced angel that will forever change her life.

A/N: Okay, so I felt very creative w/ this idea lmao. Don’t judge me okay. I just had to write it. Plus, who would play a better angel than this LITERAL angel?! Anyways, hope you like it!!

• • •

"Happy 18th birthday my angel," your mother calls out. She shakes you as you slowly gain your consciousness. The bright sunlight blinds you as you finally open your eyes. "It's finally the special day," she boasts.

Of course you know what she means by special day. By the end of today, one of the most important people who will ever enter your life, will arrive. "Okay," she goes on, "I'll give you the same speech my mother gave me on my 18th birthday." Clearing her throat, she straightens her back in a formal manner, "In the heavens, they see everything, our past, present and future. They see what will become of us and what will greatly impact us. As you know, your angel will descend and will truly bless you. They have been assigned to you since you were first conceived. They will come and you can only love and trust them. How did I do? I think I nailed it."

You nod and giggle quietly, slightly overwhelmed by everything. The thought that an angel is going to stay by your side for the rest of your life is kind of intimidating. Your father opens the door and strolls in. He walks over, placing a kiss on the crown of your head, "Happy birthday honey."

"Thanks dad. Hey, I have a question for you." He nods, edging you forward. "You were moms angel, right? Do you remember anything from being in the heavens and how the angels are chosen?"

He thinks carefully. "As I stay here longer, the memory gets more and more vague. I remember how beautiful it all was. Oh, and I remember when I got chosen." He smiles fondly. "I remember seeing your mother. I saw her future and the beautiful woman she was. I also saw us, all three of us." He kisses you again, then leans over and kiss your mother. "She needed me as a husband and father to her child in life, and that's what I became. Now because of her, I got to become human and have true emotions and a family."

"That's so cute," you gush. "I wonder if you ever met my angel."

"Hmm, I don't know. I could have. But, don't be worried, they'll be exactly what you need in life." He checks his watch, "Oh, but you better get up, it's Saturday, we have a whole day planned."

• • •

After a day of visiting family, eating, shopping, and packing, you are beat. Tomorrow, you'll move into your new apartment with your angel. It's 11:34 p.m., the day is almost over, but they still haven't came. You step outside of your warm house into the cold winter night. The cool breeze reddens your cheeks. Your eyes watch the stars intently, looking for any change. "Are you coming," you call out to no one in particular.

"Who me?" A tall, slender man walks towards you from the distance. His warm smile and graceful steps lead you to believe one thing. "It's wonderful to finally meet you. I've been waiting for this for 18 years 8 months and 28 days." You crack a smile at his calculations.

His face is truly an angelic one. Every distinct feature is sculpted to perfection. The moonlight shines on him, revealing his porcelain skin. "Hello, I'm Y/N, er, you know that already."

He giggles, "Of course I know, but it's nice to finally be able to formally meet you." His beautiful smile shines brightly, "I'm Jungwoo."

"So," you lead on, "if you don't mind me asking, what is your purpose in my life?"

He opens his mouth, but hesitates to speak. He finally says, "I have specific orders not to tell you. They say that's for you to find out." He sees your smile somewhat falter. "But," he calls out, grinning profusely, "I can help you figure it out."

"Okay," his contagious smile now infecting you, "Can I ask you a couple questions, you know, to get to know you?"

"Of course," he replies enthusiastically.

"Okay, how old are you?"

He hums in thought, "Approximately 1021 years old, but as I'm now human, I was told I am 21."

"Wow," your jaw drops. "Wait, I have another question. Do you know my father?"

"Yes," he smiles, "he was one of the best angels in all of the heavens. I met him when I was about 502 years old."

"So he wasn't much older than you in heaven?"

"Oh no he was quite a bit older. He got assigned to your mom when he was over 2000 years old, as most angels do."

"Then why did you get assigned so early?"

"I was told there was no angel more perfect for you than me." Your cheeks begin to burn as the blood rushes to them. Jungwoo leans forward, peering closer to your face. "Oh, are you cold? Here let's go in. You need some sleep anyways. Believe me, I've watched over you enough to notice you don't get enough sleep." He drags you through the door of the house, that tomorrow, you will no longer live in.

"Mom, dad, come down." They run down the stairs that lead up to the bedrooms, eager to see what is happening. They stop as they notice Jungwoo standing beside you.

"Oh hello," your mother calls out.

"Hello," he smiles.

"Wait, you look quite familiar." Your father's face distorts in contemplation.

"Yes, sir, I'm Jungwoo, you met me shortly before you descended."

Your father looks to you, smiling, then looks back to Jungwoo. "It's nice to meet you again son." Your smile widens, feeling the approval of him already.

You part ways with your parents, leading Jungwoo upstairs. You walk him to the guest room, opening the door in a welcoming manner. "You can sleep in here tonight."

"Oh," he replies, smile dropping in a disappointed manner.

"What's wrong?"

"I just thought we would sleep in the same room."

His words take you aback, blood immediately rushing to your cheeks. "W-Why would we do that?"

"I mean, we have to ‘get to know each other’, right? Humans tend to be more honest about themselves when they are drowsy or comfortable."

Unable to argue, you simply nod. You lead him back down the hall to your bedroom, opening the door shyly. "Sorry for all the boxes, I mean we are moving into our new apartment tomorrow, so I had to pack." He nods his head and jumps onto your bed.

He pats the spot next to him, "Hurry up and come to sleep, we have a whole day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Y-You wanna sleep together in the same bed?"

He calmly smiles and pats the bed once more, unbothered by your anxious stature. "Yup, and I'm a cuddler so come on!"

After a shower and putting on your biggest hoodie and some sweatpants, you walk back into your room. Jungwoo sits there in the same jeans and plain white t-shirt he appeared to you in. "Do you need some clothes to change into?"

"It would seem that way," he giggles. You hand him another hoodie and pair of sweatpants, concluding you'll have to bring him shopping to buy a wardrobe. As you are both comfortable now, you both retreat to the blankets.

"So, hows it like being human now?"

He hums in contemplation. "Pretty good. Kinda cold. But it is extremely interesting."

You turn to face him, laying on your side. "What do you mean by that?"

"Just that I now have feelings." He smiles sweetly, not breaking your stare. "I've always wanted feelings. I mean, I've always felt love for everyone, but it's different now."

You nod slowly. "Just be prepared,” you say solemnly. “There will be both good and bad feelings.” And with that, you softly close your eyes, allowing the sleep you now feel to wash over your body.

#heavens gift #nct #nct 2019 #nct 127 #nct fluff #nct angst #nct au #nct u #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 au #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct jungwoo #nct kim jungwoo #kim jungwoo

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ofnicole · 5 years

Text

( VIRGINIA GARDNER. 24. CIS FEMALE. SHE / HER. ) ❛ nicole potter, a gemini from vancouver, bc, canada, moved into holloway five years ago. they are an information technology intern that lives in apartment 4d and their neighbors don’t particularly mind them. some say they can be uninhibited and inquisitive but others say they’re versatile and epigrammatic. anyways, one thing is for sure: you hear september rose by cailin russo, it’s nic blasting it. ( penned by CAJE , 21+ , AST. )

good evening hunnies !! my name’s caje, thank u for coming to my Caje Chat asdfdg listen i don’t have discord bc i’m a literal grandma when it comes to keeping up with all the new means of messaging oops so if u would like to chat and/or plot?? just shoot me an im on here — i’m always mobile & i obviously love to talk a lot ! and i’m a heaux for dramatic / angst-fuelled plots .. just a lil fyi … i’m excited !! so anyway !!! onto the wench you’re actually here to read about; my darling nicole.

( &&. GENERAL INFORMATION )

full name: nicole theresa potter

preferred name: nic

current age: twenty four

preferred pronouns: she/her

gender identity: cis female

romantic & sexual orientation: demiromantic & homoflexible

marital status: single

zodiac sign: gemini

moral alignment: chaotic neutral

language(s) spoken: english, broken french

occupation: scammer; acting as a cam girl, & it intern

current residence: room 4d in the holloway apartment complex

( &&. PHYSICAL APPEARANCE )

looks like: virginia gardner

height: 5′8″

weight: 120 lbs

hair color: blonde

eye color: blue

tattoo(s): small black rose behind right ear

scar(s): n/a

dominant hand: right handed

distinguishing features: catlike eyes, bright smile

( &&. PERSONALITY )

positive traits: versatile, epigrammatic, intuitive

negative traits: uninhibited, inquisitive, headstrong

are they generally dominant or submissive?: both, depending

emotional, logical or both: emotional

book smart or street smart: both

are they more introvert or extrovert: in between, a little more extrovert

optimist or pessimist: both

spontaneous or structured: spontaneous

instinctual or logical: instinctual

expensive or inexpensive: inexpensive

generous or stingy: generous

polite or rude: polite … but initially comes off rude bc she’s blunt

are they a day or a night person: night

( &&. MISCELLANEOUS )

do they have a fake id?: no, but she used to

are they a lightweight?: no

are they a virgin?: no

are they squeamish?: no

what can you always find in their pockets/wallet/purse/bag: her phone, loose change, raspberry chapstick, lighter or matches, and her keys

place(s) your character can almost always be found: her shared apartment, the company office she works at in the city, any of the various clubs around nyc, all the 24hr breakfast diners.

( &&. BACKGROUND )

a vancouver native, her mother died giving birth to nicole, so the only family she’s known her whole life are her siblings, who she’s fiercely protective of, and the father she refuses to have any sort of authentic relationship with due to his sporadic absences. just a few months after her thirteenth birthday, papa potter up and moved their small family across the continent to a trailer park in california, where he left them at unannounced times to fend for themselves. while it wasn’t an ideal situation by any means, in a way it gave nicole purpose; taking care of herself and helping take care of her siblings as she matured. not to mention the added responsibility they all shared in paying rent and surviving in general.

while she picked up the odd job at a convenience store or gas station as a teenager, the eldest potter girl had a fascination with the dark web. at a young age, she was incredibly adept with programming and knowing the innards of computers in general, and the internet was like her playground. it started off very innocent, scamming people across the globe to deposit money into her account ( whether it be out of pity, infatuation, or sheer stupidity ). but after toying with malware and developing her own cryptic coding techniques over the years, nicole became something of a little hacker, which is now her main source of income for the family. posing as a cam girl, she coaxes the information needed out of her ‘ clientele ’ before springing an unforeseen attack on them. she doesn’t completely drain their accounts ( unless they’re disgusting pigs and she’s feeling spiteful ), but she certainly walks away with a large chunk from their savings.

in school, she did absolutely stellar with her grades but “didn’t fully apply herself” according to the majority of her teachers, who frankly weren’t incorrect. nicole didn’t give a shit about her education, deeming high school as a ploy to train young minds to live by the same routine, day in and day out, once they graduated and moved onto the real world. however, despite her practiced skill in technological stealth, she couldn’t exactly bring in all this money without everyone in her small neighbourhood growing suspicious of the formerly poor potter’s newly formed middle class wealth.

sO homegirl ended up applying to university anyway, getting accepted into nyu with a computer science major. she packed up her shit at the age of nineteen and moved across the country into the apartment complex she’s now been residing in for a little over five years. of course, nicole still pulls some trickery online with her faux cam girl stunt, but she’s genuinely enjoying school and the internship awarded through her program’s work placement.

SHE LOVES TO GO CLUBBING PLS. like yes she’s nerdy as all hell but she isn’t ur classic tech-savvy introvert ok. she’s a smart cookie who loves to get her party on aka the best of both worlds woo

that’s all i have so onto:

( &&. WANTED CONNECTIONS )

platonic ; childhood pals, best friends, ride or die gal who’s also in on her scamming cam girl shit, fellow scammer(s), clubbing pals, enemies turned pals, drinking pals, bad influences, good influences, pals turned enemies, petty rivals, toxic pals, etc.

romantic ; high school girlfriend / first love, a boy she dated in middle school and/or freshman year of high school before coming to terms with her sexuality, ex girlfriend(s), one night stand(s), friends/enemies with benefits ( former or current ), flirty pals, cruses ( unrequited or mutual ), anything toxic / angsty pls

#hollowayintro.#this is .... Absolute shit but uh #hi <3 love her <33

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iwontdancenetwork · 6 years

Photo

Stretching Beauty: Misty Copeland

By Erin Bried

It was about an hour after my last pirouette of the evening onstage with the American Ballet Theatre, and I was already in my pajamas. With a glass of wine in one hand and the phone in the other, I ordered my usual: a dozen glazed doughnuts from my local Krispy Kreme. Once they arrived, I sat on my couch, turned on Sex and the City and ate them all straight from the box. They tasted so good, and while I was eating them, the sugary richness made me feel comforted and cared for. The next morning, I woke up guilty and ashamed, but a few nights later I felt so miserable that I did it all over again.

I was 21 years old, thrilled to be dancing with the most famous ballet company in the country, and I was bingeing regularly. I could pinpoint exactly when and why it started. One day after rehearsal, I saw my name posted alongside the words “See the artistic staff.” They made all the company’s big decisions, including casting, and for me this summons from them was nerve-racking. I remember sitting down in their office, so anxious that I was sweating.

They told me: “Your body has changed. The lines you’re creating don’t look the way they used to. We’d like to see you lengthen.”

That, of course, was just a polite, safe way of saying, “You need to lose weight.” I was so embarrassed that all I could answer was “I understand. I’d like to change this.” And then I got out of there as fast as I could. When I reached my apartment, I started crying uncontrollably. I knew that since I was 5’2’ and 108 pounds, most people would consider me super thin. But in my own little world, I was devastated to learn I was “fat.” I had always been proud of my body—its strength and grace enabled me to pursue my passions. But now it had become the enemy.

Ever since I discovered ballet at the relatively late age of 13, it had been the one part of my life where I was the ideal. I grew up poor in San Pedro, California, sleeping on the floor of shady motels with my five siblings and not always sure when or where I’d get my next meal. I never thought of myself as special or particularly good at anything. But once I started ballet, suddenly I had a new identity: prodigy. I remember my first instructor telling me that George Balanchine, the revered founder of the New York City Ballet, thought that a ballerina should have a long neck, sloped shoulders, a small rib cage, a narrow waist and long legs and feet.

“You’re everything he wanted,” she said. “You’re perfect.”

But from a health perspective, when I moved to New York City to dance with ABT, I wasn’t perfect at all. I was 19 and tiny—I’d never even menstruated. I know people see dancers as thin as I was and assume we must be anorexic. Actually, I just burned a lot of calories from the demanding routine of dancing up to nine hours a day. I didn’t have an eating disorder—then. But about eight months after I started with the company, I fractured a bone in my back during a rehearsal. My doctor told me I needed to start menstruating because the hormones would help strengthen my bones, and he put me on the Pill. Almost overnight, my body was transformed. In one month, I gained 10 pounds, mostly in my stomach, and my 30B breasts swelled to double D.

It took me a year to recover from the injury and return to dancing, but I still wasn’t used to having breasts and a belly. And when I finally came back to ABT and put on my leotard again, it was an even bigger shock: I didn’t look or feel like the dancer I remembered being. Usually, ballerinas share costumes since we have similar builds. But now the leotards had to be altered for me—with a sheer material added to cover my cleavage, for instance. I hated this sign that I was different from the others, and I felt singled out for all the wrong reasons. I became so self-conscious that, for the first time in my life, I couldn’t dance strong. I was too busy trying to hide my breasts. After a few months, I was called in for The Talk, and the bingeing began.

After that meeting, I became so ashamed of my body that I started wearing T-shirts and shorts over my leotard and tights during practice. For the first time, I made myself exercise at the gym just to burn calories, which was awful and didn’t help. And I’d duck down hallways to avoid the artistic staff, afraid they’d tell me to “lengthen” again. I didn’t even want to be seen in ballet class, which I’d always loved. I realized that bingeing wasn’t a logical reaction, but at night, when I was alone, I got so angry: Who do they think they’re talking to? I have so much talent. I’ll eat what I want. But I knew ABT saw my once “perfect” body as a problem, so I resented them. And I hated myself for not being able to fix it. My perverse form of rebellion (and comfort) was doughnuts.

But as I grew more introverted at ABT, always nervous that I’d be criticized, I started to venture outside that tightly knit world to make friends. That’s when everything began to shift. I noticed that most people didn’t have the same rigid expectations I had about how their bodies should look. Gradually, I started to feel more relaxed and comfortable in my frame—and even happy with it. Then I met my boyfriend, Olu, who was studying law at Emory University. Since our relationship was long-distance for the first year, we spent every night talking on the phone. He’d tell me over and over that I was talented and beautiful. I’d never experienced that kind of affirmation before, even when I was being praised for having a traditional dancer’s physique. As a ballerina, you always stand in front of the mirror searching for flaws. You’re so used to criticism—from yourself and others—that it’s hard to remember that your body is something to enjoy, not just a never-ending fix-it project.

Around the time I met Olu, I also found a mentor in Victoria Rowell, a former ABT dancer turned actress. After she saw me perform in Hollywood, she left me a note asking me to call her. I did, and when we met, we talked nearly all night long. I told her I thought I’d become “the fat dancer” and that I felt awful about it. Over the course of many conversations, she made me see that what I ate should be about making myself feel good, healthy and strong, not about attempting to please (or defy) anyone else.

“Your body is fine,” she said. “But you’ll feel better if you take care of it.”

I’d always believed that what mattered was how I looked, how well I embodied certain standards of perfection. But now I started to understand that my body’s natural evolution into womanhood had validity, too. Dancing had always made me happy, and I wanted that back. So my priority became simply accepting my new self. I focused on what I wanted: to feel good, to be confident in my skin again, to dance.

I really didn’t try to stop bingeing. Instead, I started thinking about food not as solace but as the fuel that gave me the energy and strength I needed to dance—and to live. I paid attention to how my meals made me feel physically, started eating more vegetables and fish and gave up red meat and poultry. I still ate sweets occasionally because I love them—especially cupcakes and banana pudding—but now just one serving was plenty. Within a few months, I’d forgotten Krispy Kreme’s number.

Over the course of the next year, I ended up losing a few pounds (finding a better birth control regimen helped, too), but I kept my full breasts and hips. My body was still different than it had been; I couldn’t go back to being a little girl. But now I owned it. My curves became an integral part of who I am as a dancer, not something I needed to lose to become one. I started dancing with confidence and joy, and soon the staff at ABT began giving me positive feedback again. And I think I changed everyone’s mind about what a perfect dancer is supposed to look like.

Over the next few years, things at ABT just got better. I became a soloist with the company—the first black dancer to do so in more than two decades. And in 2012 I landed my biggest role yet, headlining in Firebird. I remember walking out of rehearsal in jeans and sandals to get my hair done for the premiere. When I turned onto the sidewalk, I saw it: a huge billboard on the front of the Metropolitan Opera House with my picture on it. I was in profile, wearing a red leotard, with my chest and back arched so you could see my full, feminine breasts and my round butt. It was everything that people don’t expect in a ballerina. I stood completely still for five minutes, just crying. It was beauty. It was power. It was a woman. It was me.

www.iwontdance.com

#misty copeland #ballet #ballerina #body image #love yourself

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notmaybeyou · 5 years

Text

My long lost family.

I was born on April 28, 1977 in Muskogee, Oklahoma. My mother was very young, 16, and chose to raise me with the help of my grandmother, rather than going back with my biological father. She felt it wouldn't work out with him as he young as well, and they had grown apart. She later moved with my grandmother and I to Tulsa Oklahoma, and raised me there while she worked various jobs mostly in fast food. During that time she had lost touch of my father. It was in 1981, when I was 4 that my grandmother succumbed to a battle with breast cancer. My mother, 21 at the time, at a crossroads chose to try a new path in life.

Her father, my grandfather had a new family in California. She took the opportunity to make the trek across country and packed me up with everything she could fit in just a few bags and a box, jumped on a greyhound and we relocated to Merced, California. Over about a month while we resided briefly at my gradfather's, she searched for jobs. She found one where she would be a live in caretaker helping a man named Steve who was a quadriplegic. He allowed her and I to live there with him in Atwater, California while she worked for him. Eventually Steve became family to us, as he took the role as a father figure, and his very large family took me and my mother in as theirs. We lived with him mostly, until he passed away in 1989 when I was 12 years old. His family has kept my mother and I in their hearts, and I consider them all family to this day, and Steve, although only a part of my life for around 8 years, from 4 until 12, were very impactful and up to that point in my perspective, was forever.

Through those years in the 1980's, my mom and I spoke about my biological father on many occasions. She had always been open about him and often told me everything she remembered about him. We even at one point ordered phone books from Pacific Bell for the local areas around Muskogee so that we could attempt to reach him. Obviously this was our only option at the time because the internet did not exist. For whatever reason or another we always came to a dead end when it came to finding my father. At times I even became dismissive and weary. I didn't want to find him. Through my teens and even into my 20's the idea of knowing my father was at times scary. I often felt no need to find him and shut down the idea completely.

Two weeks before my 27th birthday, in April, 2004, my daughter Elise was born. It was after she was born, that newly inspired my want and will of finding my biological father. Although it took a few years of me being a father myself, just the sheer fact that I was a father coupled with the fact the I not only wanted, but needed to know for Elise's sake whether there were family illnesses to be concerned with in my genetic line.

In March 2013, as my mother became less and less healthy, I decided to have her write down anything and everything she remembered about him, from siblings, family members, everything. I looked around and did some of my own research online and found a Melton tire shop in Muskogee, where my father (Johnny Melton) was from, and where I was born. I ended up calling and talking to an older man that said he was cousins with Johnny, but that he had passed "some time a while ago" it was then that I found out I would never get to meet my father. He also told me that he knew that Johnny, my father had some other kids. I had siblings. I knew I couldn't stop my search. He couldn't offer much more information.

It was then in early April of 2013 that I opened an account with ancestry. com. I put in the information I knew about Johnny and the very first thing to come up was his obituary. It listed all his children that he was survived by, including me. There was also a picture. It was the first picture I have ever seen of my biological father. I was stunned. Can't describe the feeling. One I have never felt in my life.

Of the names of my siblings, I quickly took to facebook and typed in my sisters name, Aimy, because it is not a common spelling. I found her immediately. Luckily her profile was not private at the time and also listed all my other siblings matching almost exactly as the obituary did. I had found them. I had 5 brothers and sisters, no father, but 5 siblings. April, Aimy, John, Brandon and Dustin.

I spent most of the day composing myself, studying their pictures and thinking of how I would approach them. How do you tell 5 people that you are their older, long lost brother? Did they even know I existed? I was scared that they would resist the idea of knowing me, or push away. It was really quite terrifying. I couldn't sleep at all that night and finally came up with a message to send them through facebook. I tried to send it, but facebook had criteria in place that would not allow me to send messages to people I had no other connection with. The way around this was to pay a dollar per message. Best 5 dollars I have ever spent.

The first to reply was April. We immediately exchanged numbers and we talked for a couple hours. I learned hundreds of times more about my father's side of the family than I had ever known up to that point within that time. It was one of the best moments of my life at around 4 am on April 5th 2013. I finally went to sleep for about an hour before I went to work. Throughout that day I talked to most of the rest of my siblings, and added them on Facebook.

Since then, I have been back to Oklahoma to see them a couple of times. John, my brother has been to California to see me. Elise and I have been welcomed into their family, not only by them but by their amazing mother Cecilia, as well. I am so thankful for them, for finding them and knowing them. They are now my family, and I love them all.

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nicolewrites · 6 years

Text

dearly beloved

hi, i’m alive

Rating: G/G+ Genre: Romance and Friendship Characters: [Ash K. and Misty] Words: 5,473

in which Ash and Misty decide to get married and the world collectively loses its mind / poke, ikari, contest, wishful, leafgreen / ua

AO3 | FFN

Paul hardly looked up from his book as he slid aside the latch on the mailbox and reached in to retrieve their mail. As usual, there was the letter from Reggie and Maylene with a hastily added signature from little Preston, a couple of magazines relating to Dawn’s work, some bills, a postcard from Zoey and Candice’s world tour, and a high-quality formal envelope. His brow creased as he pulled out the last item. It reminded him of letters he got for official League events, but there were none of those coming up, so he was left perplexed. The printing that their address was written in was in handwriting that Paul also usually associated with the League, but this time, it was clearly of a personal level.

He slid it back in between a magazine and Zoey’s postcard and tucked all the mail under his arm. He closed the mailbox and headed back towards the house. He shut the door behind him and followed the noise in the house to the kitchen.

Dawn stood in the doorway of the kitchen with her back to him, but she heard him coming and turned to face him. She stepped towards him as he neared, leaning up to peck him on the lips. He returned the simple gesture and passed her the mail. She beamed and spun, her hair flying back and nearly striking him in the face, before walking into the kitchen.

Paul followed her in and placed his book on the counter before moving towards the kitchen table. Dawn was hovering between the fridge and the table, skimming through the mail while also glancing at the third person in the room every so often. Little Noah, the product of a happy accident when Paul was 21 and Dawn just 20, was happily eating the porridge that his mother had prepared. Noah paused to grin widely as Paul sat down at the table. Paul’s lip twitched up as he admired his son for a moment. Noah looked strikingly like Dawn besides the flint grey eyes that were definitely his.

Dawn had apparently found the letter as she placed the rest of the mail down on the counter next to Paul’s book. She held it up and looked at him in confusion. “Do you know what this is for?” “No,” he replied.

Dawn walked towards his chair and Paul leaned forwards slightly. She perched herself sideways across his lap, leaning into him slightly as she tore along the top of the envelope. “It’s addressed to both of us,” she mused.

Paul’s hand rested on the outside of her hip to hold her in place as he watched over her shoulder as she pulled out an invitation of a sort that was thankfully not adorned with the terrible handwriting of the Indigo Champion. Dawn let out an excited gasp as she realized what the card was. Paul raised an eyebrow.

“Were they even dating?” he asked.

Dawn laughed. “Not exactly no, but I mean, it is Ash. I imagine Misty could only put up with him for so long.”

Paul gave Dawn a weird look. “She’s signing herself up for dealing with Ash for life this way,” he reminded.

“Yes, but he’ll have to deal with her too, and I think commitment is something in itself.”

Dawn placed the invite on the table and glanced at Noah. The toddler was contently eating his breakfast. He seemed quite happy to ignore both of his parents despite his mother’s curious stare.

“Besides,” she teased coyly, brushing her fingertips along the hand he’d placed on her, “I don’t think we’re allowed to judge how other people get married.” Paul glanced at Noah before pressing a soft kiss to Dawn’s hair in a rare display of affection. “At least we were together before he came along,” he pointed out.

Dawn hummed her agreement. She picked up the card again and flipped to the inside where the date was written. “September 7? That’s so soon!”

“They both have League obligations the further into the season it gets,” Paul reminded and Dawn made a small sound of acknowledgement.

“Still,” she argued, “even we were engaged for more than a month and we deal with the same kind of issues as Ash does with you and arguably more so with Noah.”

Paul shrugged. He definitely didn’t have an answer for Ash and Misty’s decision. Ash was already hard enough to manage when they were dealing with Interregional politics that required communication between the two champions, Paul didn’t have time to analyze Ash’s personal life too.

Dawn perked up suddenly. “Oh! I guess we’ll have to get Noah a little suit then!”

Paul tensed. “Why does our two-year-old need a suit?”

“Because it’s a wedding! Everyone has to dress up!”

Paul sighed. Even though she worked as a Poké Stylist, he wondered sometimes why Dawn didn’t just switch into a career in fashion. She’d made her own wedding dress when they were married and had been the designer for May’s. He supposed it was because PokéStyling was more similar to coordinating.

“Just don’t wear yourself out,” he said. “I know you’re going to insist on making Noah’s outfit and you’ve probably already started mentally designing your own, but don’t burn out.” Dawn twisted to look at him and she beamed. “I love you too,” she teased and leaned in so she could kiss him again.

Noah whined across the table and the two adults pulled apart and turned to face the child who had upset his bowl and was hovering on the verge of tears. Dawn shook her head and stood from Paul’s lap, heading to give their son the comfort he wanted.

Iris was tired. She was dead tired and she just wanted to go back to sleep. Cilan kept shooting her concerned looks, but Iris ignored him. They had been planning for this lunch for a while–they couldn’t just cancel. Besides, across from her, Trip looked nearly as exhausted. “How was your trip to Hoenn?” Cilan asked politely as he brought over the last dish he had prepared. Though it was a little past lunchtime, Iris and Cilan had agreed to host Trip for lunch while he was in Opelucid after arriving back in Unova from a vacation.

“It was good,” Trip replied almost noncommittally. He yawned and Cilan let out a sympathetic chuckle.

“You’ve not yet adjusted back from the time change, have you?”

Trip laughed shortly. “No, I haven’t, but that’s my excuse, what’s yours?” He directed the last bit of the question towards Iris who just shook her head.

“I’ve been up late these last few nights,” Iris defended. Trip raised an eyebrow and she knew he needed more justification. “The Unova League is apparently seeing a competitor who gave Paul trouble last year. I want to be ready.” “Mm,” Trip consented finally, “the guy that got the Sinnoh Champ down to just his starter right?”

“Yes,” Cilan said as he finally took his seat at the table. He brushed his hand over Iris’s comfortingly. “The way you’ve been training lately, he will be very hard pressed to beat you.”

Iris smiled into her drink as she took a sip from her glass of water. “That’s the plan.”

There was silence that fell over the three of them for several minutes as they all ate: enjoying Cilan’s excellent cooking. Even though it was just for lunch, Cilan had prepared two vegetable dishes, an egg dish that remained one of Iris’s favourites, and had baked a loaf of bread fresh. She smiled at Cilan and thanked Arceus for giving her husband the gift of good cooking.

While she herself was normally content with some fresh fruit and the traditional foods from her village, Iris could not deny that Cilan’s cooking was delicious. He had lived in a restaurant his whole life as the Striaton City Gym Leader and it had clearly turned him, and all of his siblings, into wonderful cooks. By the way Trip was digging into the meal as well, Iris knew he had no complaints.

“How was the event?” she finally asked, curiosity winning out.

Trip glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “About what was expected. Wallace is a brilliant orator and Max certainly appeared to be a strong pick for the Elite Four.”

Trip had been in Hoenn covering the ascension of Max Maple, a close friend of Ash’s, to a member of Hoenn Elite Four. Iris had been hesitant to send Trip, a League photographer for the Unova region to cover the event, but Wallace had requested the best in all of Napaj so that he might give Max the best publicity possible. Still, it was almost a vacation for Trip, something she wished he would take more often, so she had conceded and sent him over.

Their conversation was interrupted as the trio heard the front door bang open. Cilan and Trip both rose from the table and Iris gripped a Pokéball out of reflex. It wasn’t an unwelcome intruder after all, as Georgia strode into the kitchen, looking relaxed and bored. She took in the scene and rolled her eyes.

“If you don’t want me to walk in, don’t schedule a meeting with me and leave the front door unlocked,” she drawled sarcastically.

Cilan sank back into his seat and Iris slid Haxorus’s Pokéball away. Trip remained slightly more on edge, and Iris recalled the last time Trip and Georgia had interacted and had to force herself not to laugh at the memory.

“Anyways,” Georgia said, striding across the kitchen and sitting in the fourth chair at the table. “This was on your doorstep.” She handed the offending item to Iris and Iris’s eyebrows rose.

It was an envelope that resembled the official Pokémon League ones used to send out notifications of official business. Iris blinked in surprise and turned it over so that she could see the address. It was clearly for her and Cilan and by the handwriting alone, Iris knew it was from Ash. Indigo Champion he may have been, good handwriting he did not have.

“It’s from Ash,” she elaborated for Cilan and Trip who could not see the envelope.

She broke the seal and slid the letter out. The front of the card had curving, elegant handwriting that was clearly not Ash’s, and Iris stared at it. Cilan, who had leaned over to watch her open it, recoiled similarly. She opened it and saw more writing and information inside the card which was thankfully printed by who Iris assumed to be Misty, not Ash.

Trip coughed politely and the Unovan couple exchanged a look and Iris folded the card again. “It’s from Ash and Misty,” she amended.

“That’s one of his Elite Four members right?” Trip asked, confirming.

“Yes,” Georgia filled in. As a member of the Unova Elite Four, she was familiar with the elites across the other regions of Napaj.

“They’re getting married,” Cilan said finally. Trip and Georgia both appear stunned. Cilan laughed, brushing his hand against Iris’s. “Honestly I don’t even know if they were really dating. They were together in a lot of ways I suppose, and now I guess they’re just solidifying that fact.”

Iris touched the envelope, frowning slightly. “I know Misty, and I know Ash. They’re both spontaneous people, but it is Ash, and I would think he would want a bigger wedding with all the connections that he has.” Trip leaned back in his chair. “Well, if he’s the Indigo Champion marrying a member of the Indigo Elite Four. He’s invited the Unova Champion and her husband,” he looked at them both pointedly before continuing, “and I imagine he’s invited the Sinnoh Champion and his wife as well. Plus, we all know Ash has tons of other famous friends. Just because it’s sudden, doesn’t mean it will be low profile.” Georgia gave a low whistle. “Something this big, a Champion getting engaged, should have already burst into the media. I wonder why it hasn’t.” Cilan took Iris’s hand and squeezed it. “I imagine they’ve already informed the major news sources and are putting a hold on the information until they’ve received personal congratulations from their friends. That’s what Iris and I did.”

“And you think Ash is smart enough to think of that?” Trip asked, sounding amused.

“No,” Iris agreed. “Ash isn’t, but Misty is. And she hates the paparazzi, so I would expect something exactly like this from her.”

May’s phone rang suddenly, rattling the table and drawing the gaze of her, Drew, and Solidad. Drew raised an eyebrow at May.

“Are you going to answer it?”

His words seemed to restart her system and he watched, amused, as she jolted and scooped up her phone, answering the call. He made eye contact with Solidad who took a sip of her coffee to hide her amusement.

“Hello?” May greeted into the phone. “Max?” she said after a brief second.

Drew was surprised. Max was currently drowning in paperwork and the press after being officially elevated to the Hoenn Elite Four. May and her brother had been in brief contact lately, but not much since he was so busy. The last time they’d seen Max in person, he had been hiding out in their house after his own apartment in Ever Grande had been mobbed with the press following his announcement as the new Elite Four member.

Drew studied May’s face. Her brows knit together as she listened to her brother talk, but she suddenly burst into a wide happy grin that lit up her whole face. “That’s fantastic news!” she cheered happily.

Drew exchanged another look at Solidad, but the older coordinator was just as clueless as he was. He resolved to simply wait for May to finish the phone call. Thankfully, it appeared that whatever news Max had to share was limited to whatever made May so excited because she ended her call shortly after, still grinning.

“So?” Drew prompted as May slipped her phone back into her purse.

“Apparently Max received a very interesting piece of mail from a good friend of ours today. I’m sure we’ll have a similar card waiting for us at home,” May explained.

Drew pondered her words. “May, literally all of our friends are already married. Who else is getting married?” He had automatically assumed marriage because the last time she had been this excited was when Leaf and Gary, friends through Ash, had finally gotten married almost two months ago.

May’s smile widened. “Not all of our friends,” she teased.

Drew raised an eyebrow. “There’s no way that Ash actually figured out his life enough to propose. He might be the Indigo Champion, but there is no way that he has got his head screwed on straight enough for this to be happening.”

“Maybe she proposed to him,” Solidad joked, but she appeared just as interested as Drew was.

May shrugged. “All Max said was that they sent out the invites and that the date is set for September 7.” She took a sip of the hot chocolate on the table in front of her, still smiling.

“And you’ll still be okay to travel then?” Solidad asked, raising an eyebrow briefly at May.

May waved off her concern. “I’m not due until November, so it’s fine. I can’t miss Ash’s wedding. This has been a long time coming.” Solidad shrugged. “If you’re sure.”

Drew gave May a careful glance. “This might even work in our favour. The Indigo Champion getting engaged to his own Elite Four member might steal the media attention away from us for a while.” May perked up at the mention. “Arceus, that would be amazing!” Solidad laughed at the couple. “You hid it for four months, so as far as they’re concerned, they have four months of Hoenn Coordinating Royalty content to make up.” Drew sighed. The media had hounded him and May relentlessly since they were teenagers. At first, it was all speculation and it had been really quite annoying. After they started dating for real, it had become intrusive and irritating on a larger scale. That only multiplied once they were engaged and had climaxed at their wedding when a photographer for Coordinator’s Weekly was discovered lurking around by security and removed from the premises.

When he and May had announced that they were expecting, four months into the pregnancy, the media had gone insane and even two months after that fact still did not leave them alone wherever they went. In fact, there was a woman a couple tables away that kept trying to be discrete in her photographing of the trio of coordinators. She was not subtle, but neither Solidad or Drew could be bothered to tell her off and May simply hadn’t noticed.

“I’m just happy for them,” May reiterated.

Solidad smiled. “How long have they been together?” May laughed. “Honestly none of us can say if they were ever really dating. They’ve always cared for each other, and that turned to love at some point, but Ash was always Ash. He was completely oblivious to her feelings for quite some time. It’s a wonder he ever figured it out.”

“Hey, May,” Drew called, teasing his wife. “You haven’t got much room to laugh at Ash there considering I gave you roses for almost 4 years before you finally figured it out.” May pouted. “You said they were for Beautifly.”

Solidad burst out laughing and Drew smirked. He leaned over and kissed May on the cheek which lessened her pout, but she still clung to it stubbornly.

“I love you,” he reminded her. His admission cracked her and she smiled again. “I love you too,” she relented.

Solidad shook her head. “And you two wonder why the press doesn’t leave you alone anymore.”

May shrugged. “We’re kind of used to it at this point. As long as it never hits the point it did at our wedding again I think we’ll be okay.” “Besides,” Drew said, “with Max as an Elite Four member now, there’s no telling if May will still be the most popular member of the Maple Family anymore.” May looked mildly offended and Drew chuckled. “He’s single, May,” he reminded. “And a trainer of elevated status. He’ll have a fanbase soon enough.” May’s smile turned a little mischevious. “You would know about fanbases wouldn’t you, Mr. Fangirl.” Drew groaned. “Please, let’s not go there.” “Oh how they used to follow you everywhere! So condescending to competition when you won, and depressed and mopey when you lost,” Solidad teased.

Drew glared at her. “You are both the worst.” This time May leaned over and pecked him on the lips. “You married me and we like Solidad.”

Delia Ketchum was humming to herself as she spun the sponge against the dishes before handing them off to Mr. Mime so that he could rinse them and place them in the drying rack. With just the two of them, there weren’t many dishes, but they still tackled them together like they always had. Whenever she had guests over, they always tried to help clean up since Delia insisted on cooking, but she let Mr. Mime deal out the rejections in that field. The cooking and the cleaning was always done by the two of them and no matter how many pleading looks Leaf or Misty gave, no one else was taking over.

Just as she was handing off the last of the plates, the doorbell rang. Mr. Mime glanced at Delia and visibly shrugged. Delia just smiled and shook her head. It was probably just one of the neighbourhood kids again, but she ought to check. She removed her yellow gloves and placed them next to the sink. She crossed the kitchen and living room and headed to the main entrance of her house.

A series of knocks sounded from the door and Delia was surprised: maybe it was something urgent. She opened the door and was mildly surprised to see a very concerned looking Leaf Oak on her doorstep with her husband hovering just behind her. Thankfully, Gary looked more amused than concerned and Delia knew it was not super serious.

“Delia,” Leaf began suddenly, raising a very familiar envelope up to eye level, “what is this?”

Everything clicked in her mind and Delia laughed. “I believe it is exactly what it says it is.”

Leaf glanced at the envelope, observing the thick, high-quality paper and the less than neat writing that topped it. “But, how?” Gary laughed, stepping forwards and tucking an arm around Leaf’s waist. “I believe, darling wife, that it happened the very same way that it happened with us: me, on one knee, and you, wearing the ring.”

Leaf smacked Gary with the envelope. “Not what I meant, stupid.”

Delia smiled at the couple. “Would you like some tea? I’ll have Mimey put on the kettle and perhaps I can answer a few more of your questions.” Leaf sighed and removed Gary’s arm from her waist. “I would love to sit down, and I have so many questions.”

Delia opened the door wider and led the young couple into her home. Neither Leaf nor Gary was biologically related to her, but she felt as if they were part of her family. When Gary’s parents and Leaf’s mother had passed in a tragic accident when they were young, Professor Oak, Leaf’s father, and Delia had tag-teamed in raising Leaf, Gary, and Ash. Subsequently, Leaf and Gary had spent a lot of their childhoods eating at Delia’s kitchen table or playing in her backyard.

Like a proud mother, she had cried when Leaf and Gary had announced their engagement and again at their wedding. They’d only been married close to a month and a half, but they had been engaged for two years before that, having started dating at 17. Due to work restraints for both of them, they’d only recently gone on and arrived back from their honeymoon and Delia hadn’t seen them since they got home. The remnants of a healthy tan clung to Gary while Leaf had an extra spattering of freckles across her nose.

The pair followed her into the kitchen and sat down as Delia politely asked Mr. Mime to turn on the kettle. Leaf was still turning over the envelope in her hands, staring at it in confusion. Delia sat next to her and placed a hand over the young woman’s.

“You have read it, haven’t you?” “Of course,” Leaf replied. “They were clear enough about the date and the location and I’ve been in contact with Misty about bridesmaids already, but I’m still so confused.”

Delia laughed. “Well, let me help with that. What about it is confusing?” Gary stretched in the chair and asked a question before Leaf could: “Were they dating at all or did Misty just snap and tell him they were going to get married?” Delia, recalling Ash’s embarrassed story, pressed a knuckle to her lip to halt a short laugh. “Well, they were kind of dating in their own way, as much as Ash could manage anyways, but I’m not sure it was ever established in the way most relationships are, because, well,” she paused, not quite sure how to put her son’s eccentricity into words.

“Because he’s Ash,” Gary suggested, filling in the blanks.

Delia shrugged. While a basic definition, it certainly wasn't wrong. There just wasn’t anyone quite like Ash.

“Can they do this? I mean, Misty’s in the Elite Four and Ash is the Champion. Are they allowed to do this?” Leaf asked.

Delia shrugged. “I’m not concerned about it because I know they’ve been through enough together that they wouldn’t be concerned about League rules. Besides, everyone knew they were best friends when Ash was attempting his League challenge three years ago and they knew that it wasn’t a conflict of interest then, so I don’t suppose it should be now.”

“But why just decide to get married like that?” Leaf pressed, obviously still confused.

“I suppose for them it was a combination of seeing all their other friends married and engaged and realizing they loved each other enough that they didn’t need four years of dating and two years of engagement first when they had thirteen years of friendship,” Delia explained.

Leaf blinked as Delia addressed her and Gary’s long engagement. It had been the result of both of them pursuing PhDs during that period, but they had been together for a long time. “I guess that makes sense,” she murmured. Leaf slid the card out of the envelope and looked at the date. “Why September?”

Delia smiled. “The date Misty fished him out of the river when they met.” Gary and Leaf both laughed.

“Well,” Gary drawled, “maybe he’s not completely hopeless after all. She did say yes.”

“I win!” Misty cheered as she slapped down her last card victoriously. She smirked at Ash.

Ash groaned and placed his last three cards on the table so that they could count up his penalties. Misty’s smirk widened as she tallied the points and Pikachu let out a tittering laugh from his perch atop one of the counters where he was enjoying a treat. Ash stared at his partner, feeling betrayed.

“Don’t you side with her too,” he complained. Pikachu just rolled over, content to ignore his trainer.

Misty leaned over the table and pinched Ash’s cheek. “I won, Mr. Pokémon Master. Pikachu’s just agreeing that I’m the better one of the two of us.” Ash gently swatted Misty’s hand away. She leaned back, still smirking. Ash leaned forwards instead and just straight up kissed her. Misty stiffened in surprise briefly before she let her hand cup his jaw and she reciprocated the action. Ash drew back after a moment, slightly breathless, but smiling.

“Right, but who’s the Champion again?” he asked teasingly.

Misty rolled her eyes and scoffed. “You beat me once. It won’t happen again, I promise. Still,” she mused, “I think I can find enough sympathy in myself to play another round if you’re desperate for pity points.”

Warmth curled in Ash’s stomach. He loved moments like these when no one was watching and they were able to let loose. It was rare for them since Misty was a member of the Indigo Elite Four and Ash was the Champion. There were hardly ever moments of peace for them like this and they deserved to be treasured when they could.

Misty’s palm cupped her chin as she leaned her elbow on the table and smirked at Ash again. The ring on her finger, the one Delia had painstakingly picked out after hours of searching, glinted on her finger and Ash was happy to see it. It looked like it belonged and it certainly felt like it did.

Ash’s decision, a stupidly impulsive one, had been, in retrospect, completely out of the blue for most people. Ash and Misty had never officially labelled their relationship before that moment, but it wasn’t like there was nothing there. When he turned 19, Ash had finally started reading into Misty’s actions a little differently. They had basically dated without the labels for years, but Ash had been unable to recognize it until other people, like May and Dawn and Misty’s sisters, spelt it out for him.

Ash himself was 23 and Misty was almost 24. He had figured he didn’t have much to lose, so he had gone to his mother for advice. Delia had been overjoyed and amused and a bunch of other emotions, but she had promised her few tears were happy ones. Ash knew he loved Misty and he loved her differently from the way he loved May and Dawn and Brock. Delia had been the one to pick out the ring in the end, and Ash had done the rest by proposing over a casual dinner at Misty’s apartment.

He had stumbled over the words and made a complete fool out of himself. Misty was always better with her emotions, however, and she bailed him out by kissing him to get him to shut up and answering the question he had been unable to articulate with a resounding ‘yes’.

“Hello? Earth to Ash?” She waved a hand in front of his face. “Still with me?”

Ash grinned. “Always.”

Following their very sudden engagement, they had had a very candid discussion about a wedding and had decided together that they wanted it to be as small as possible. It wasn’t super realistic considering both of their positions, but it was a hope. They also wanted as little media there as possible. The nightmarish results of the photographer that had snuck into May and Drew’s wedding reminded them that no press was indeed good press.

Following an example set by Iris and Cilan when they were engaged, Misty had written a short statement to the Pokémon News Network and asked them to hold it until they were ready. Ash and Misty had written the invitations by hand quickly and Misty didn’t wear her ring in public until they were sent out. She actually even held off wearing it until they had received most of the personal congratulatory messages and RSVPs for the wedding. At that point, they had allowed PNN to release the statement and Misty had worn the ring out in public.

Neither Misty nor Ash wanted a big wedding anyway. It was more for their friends and family.

Still, nights like these, where they’d put away all the wedding stuff so they didn’t stress, were nice.

Ash reached across the table and flicked Misty’s hair. He also snagged the deck of cards and retreated back to his seat. He shuffled it as she’d taught him. Misty laughed and tried to grab the cards back, but Ash grabbed her outstretched hand instead and pressed a kiss to the top of it.

She smiled softly at him and then Ash got a wicked idea. He held her hand loosely and turned it over so he was looking at her palm. He lifted it up again, but instead of kissing it, he dragged his tongue across it, licking it childishly.

“Ew!” Misty squealed. She recoiled, snatching her hand away and rubbing her palm against her jeans. “That was so immature, Ash Ketchum!”

Ash grinned. “What are you going to do about it?”

Misty pushed her chair back and stood up. “You’re going to eat those words,” she promised.

Ash laughed and sprung up from the table. He took off running for the living room and made it almost across the room before Misty’s arms wrapped around his waist and they tumbled to the couch together. Misty landed on top of him and Ash squirmed so that he was holding her in his arms.

They were both laughing and Ash felt happy. This was how he wanted to spend the rest of his life and he suddenly just wanted it to be official.

“Let’s get married!” he blurted. His outburst clearly surprised Misty because she stiffened. She blinked at him. “You already asked me to marry you once. We still have three weeks, Ash.”

“No, like, right now!” he insisted. “I know it’s a thing that people do when they just go to a courthouse and get married. I don’t need some fancy ceremony or expensive cake. I just want to be with you.”

Misty looked slightly taken aback, but she smiled at him broadly after a moment. “Ash not needing a cake? That’s a first.” They both laughed, but Misty leaned forwards and pecked him on the lips. “Honestly, I’ve never wanted a big wedding and if you wanted, I’d marry you in a PokéCentre.”

“So,” Ash said, “screw the wedding?”

Misty laughed and rested her head against his chest. “Only we would get engaged without technically dating and then plan a wedding only to give up and get married three weeks earlier in a courthouse, but you know what? I’d love to marry you, Ash Ketchum, so let’s get married!”

Ash grinned. “I love you.”

Misty kissed him again and it was a little deeper and for a little longer. “I love you too,” she confessed when she pulled back. “But, unfortunately, we are probably going to have to wait until tomorrow since it’s kind of late tonight.” Ash shrugged. “Fine by me. I can beat you in Kart Racers in the meantime!”

Misty raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you are so on!” She rolled off of him so they were lying next to each other before they both lunged for the gaming controllers to turn the console on.

The press–and all of their friends–were going to have a field day, but honestly? Ash and Misty couldn’t have cared less.

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