#she does nag on him to spend more time with the kids particularly the girls

[getitinbusan]

10 years with Jungkook

California

You met Jeon Jeongguk in the summer of 2012. Two kids brought together by a calling to California and a chance at making it big. Best friends from the start, what happens when only one of you becomes successful? Do you ever forget your first love? 

Childhood friends to lovers, angst and smut.

Words:  4600

Warnings: 18 plus smut. Oral F, Sex MF, Swearing. Pretty Mild for me. This is a previously posted fic that has been updated and reworked.

It was a rare rainy August day in California. The heavy drops created a sad melody on the window as you put the dishes away. Tired and lonely, the feeling in your gut kept nagging at you, maybe it was time to give up. 

The savings account was drained, there were no jobs to be found and  this was the second month of falling short on rent. Surely it would only be a matter of time before your roommates would stop exchanging house cleaning for money. 

Hanging the threadbare towel over its hook you stood in the kitchen, your mood mirroring the dim light of the afternoon. Feeling frusterated and stupid, it had taken you way longer than it should have to realize that in LA, you were nothing. Not pretty enough, rich enough, skinny enough or talented enough to ever make it big. So this is how the great Califonia chapter of your life would end, not by choice but necessity. 

Gathering up the mail that was strewn across the countertop, you shuffled through it sorting its priority. Junk mail, bills, personal…one in particular standing out. Your heart began pounding as you took in the details.

The penmanship was nice, black ink on an unassuming envelope. But it was the stamp that caught your attention. It was sent from Korea.

Flipping it in your hand you examined the torn top. The letter, having been read, was cradled back safely inside. Addressed to your roommate a frown crept onto your face. Why wouldn’t he write to you?

It was a ridiculously hopeful notion but you widened the envelope and inhaled trying to find a trace of his fragrance, something, anything to trigger a happy memory. Cool California nights were the best excuse. How many times had you borrowed his sweaters just to have his smell on you?

You missed him. It had been a year and a half and you couldn't help but once again ponder the nagging question that always crept back. If you hadn't forced him to break the rules would he still be a part of your life? 

It was too tempting to resist, your fingers pinched the paper inside of the envelope and pulled it free. 

I’m feeling low, I don’t know who I am, only who I’m supposed to be.

What would life be like if I had stayed in California? We could all be roommates, hanging out and having fun, going to the beach on weekends.

Does she even think about me?

It sounds greedy that with how much I have right now, it’s not enough. I would give anything to wake up in bed beside her everyday. I want more than anything to be able to talk to her about these things but I can’t. I’ve made the mistake of trading her for fame and now I’m destined to keep her at an arm’s length so she’ll never know the price I paid.

How does she even see me? As an Idol? As the boy who abandoned her? Has she forgotten the good days we spent together?

I’ve been wrestling with myself, whoever that is. I wish I could be the teenage boy from that long ago summer again. I wrote this song thinking about it…

~When I see you smile in the screen

You’re good at everything

You’re just perfect

Feels like I've never been you

Do you even see me?

Do you know who I am?

Or how do I look now?

You don’t like me like that

I want to be your decalcomania~

I’m afraid I may not get back for a while, please write. Your friendship and thoughts of her are the only things that are keeping me tethered to some semblance of reality.

JK

Clutching the letter to your chest, your mind took you back to that day. 

"Decalcomania, the art or process of transferring pictures and designs. Making a copy of the original on a different medium"  

Reading the description on the wall you’d both stood laughing at the piece's strange name, Decalcomania. The gallery visit felt like lifetimes ago but you still remembered clearly. You remembered, not because the piece had struck you as particularly special but because that's where you had decided that Jeongguk's laugh was the best sound you'd ever heard.  

California had lured you into its promise when you turned 14. Having been accepted to an  intensive dance program at The Movement Lifestyle Studio you packed up and headed West for the summer. 

It was July and it was hot, the dancers stepping off the bus one at a time took their places in the studio.

Looking around there were so many older kids, you were probably one of the youngest. Calling out names they put you into groups, it appeared to be by age so you made your way across the unfamiliar wooden floor to the tiny gathering of teens in the darkened corner.

Shy introductions were made as one more member was ushered over to where you had congregated. “This is Jeongguk.” 

He had the cutest smile and barely spoke english but his eyes twinkled like the constellations. Immediately drawn to each other you became fast friends.

Absolutely exhausted by the end of the first few days he quietly knocked at your door.

He was homesick and lonely, used to being surrounded by his six members, he couldn’t sleep well without someone beside him. You let him crawl into bed with you, you were 14 and it was innocent. 

Inseparable, days and nights were spent side by side, the others began referring to you as the twins. It was the best summer of your life but like every boy meets girl summer story, it had to come to a close. Promising through tears to keep in touch and stay friends you went your separate ways. 

Jeongguk would send silly videos of his practice sessions, goofing around with the other members.  He’d facetime and text but he always loved to send handwritten letters.

They lived in a box under your bed and contained stories of how hard he was working to become an idol. He always signed off with, "I miss you,” and a few lines of lyrics he’d written.

You didn’t know then how important they would become, the only tangible piece of him you could still hold on to.  

Whenever he came back to America you did everything you could to see him. You always found a way to get to the small tour stops whenever they came through. 2015 was the first, then KCon in 2016, but 2017, it was different.

Facetiming you with the news that they were bringing the Wings tour to NY, Chicago and Anaheim, he asked if you’d be part of the dance crew. How could you turn down two weeks with Jungkook the hottest new K-pop Idol? They were getting bigger, more popular and their lives were changing rapidly.

He had strict rules, girls were completely off limits. No talking, no hugging, no smiling at one another, any little thing could be easily misconstrued by the fans. Everything had to be done in secret. Jungkook would sneak you into his hotel room where you would spend your nights together catching up. The boys would bring you in food and cover for him while you both stayed locked away out of sight.

While happy to be with him, you could tell there was an underlying sadness he was holding on to.

"I wish I could go and explore the city with you like we used to," his voice trailed off.

You were laying in each other’s arms cuddling on his bed.  Leaning over he kissed the top of your head.

"All I really want is to take you on a proper date."

You snuggled closer into his side as he exhaled deeply, releasing his secret. 

"I’ve been waiting so long to become someone, a man worthy of your affection. Now I’m stuck. I have everything I wanted and I’m not allowed to share it with you."

His arms gripped you tighter.

"I’m sorry, this is a terrible confession. I don’t expect you to love me back, not under these circumstances, I just need you to know, you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved and there won’t be anybody else, ever." 

Every bit of his confession, every moment of that last night in the hotel room had stuck with you to this day. The words of a 19 year old boy whose life had become bigger than the feelings of two people.

He'd left in the morning without knowing. You were a coward, too afraid to tell him you loved him too.  

LA became your home right after they left Anaheim. Focused on your dancing, if you became good enough, maybe you could join the tour with him. 

A letter with a big bouquet of flowers arrived a few weeks later. 

"Congratulations on your new house in LA!

I hope that all of you are getting along as roommates, it’s hard living with others sometimes.

Last night I dreamt that I was there with you and all of our friends. We were having a party on the beach and we sat together watching the sunset.

Do you remember after practice when we would skateboard as fast as we could to the ocean so we wouldn’t miss the colors?

Maybe one day my toes can feel the sand there again.

I miss you, I miss me… the me I am when I get to be with you.

We're coming back in October for a few days and I’m hoping I can see you, I’m lonely already.   

Jeongguk

~Won’t you please stay in dreams

I can hear the sea from far away

Across the dream, over the bush

Go there where it becomes clear

Take my hands now

You are the cause of my euphoria

When I’m with you, I’m in utopia~

By the time The AMAs came, the plan had been finalized. You would steal Jungkook away so that you could take him on your first real date.

Having enlisted Namjoon to help, he was your inside man. The boys, happy to help finally get you together, would cover for his whereabouts with management. The day before the awards they were only scheduled for styling, as long as he wasn’t late for the press rounds the next afternoon your plan could work.

It was Namjoon’s job to get him out of the building. Telling him to follow his lead, Joon convinced the managers that Jungkook must have eaten something bad for lunch. Claiming to not feel well, he was whisked away to meet you at the hotel’s back receiving door. 

Sitting in the shiny red rented convertible you tossed him a pair of sunglasses. What you wouldn’t give now to see that smile again.

Barely giving him time to get in you’d sped away heading straight for In And Out Burger.

"Kookie, I hope you’re ready for the best day of your life! We’re going to eat until we explode, drink and party at the beach and then, instead of returning you to your fancy 5 star hotel you’re staying the night in my crappy little house with a tiny uncomfortable bed!!"

He laughed, that perfect laugh. It was so pure and honest, thinking about it now made you sad. Was that the last moment he'd gotten to be his true self? Jeongguk the man not Jungkook the personna? 

Knowing you only had one day to give him everything, one day to show him you loved him, you tried to make the best of it.

Picking up the food Jungkook held onto the red and white bags in the passenger seat, sneaking his hand in to steal fries when he thought you weren’t looking. If you weren’t sure you were in love with him before you you certainly were now.

Pulling up beside the tree on the beach he was stunned, "Ahhh Jagi, I can’t believe you brought me here."

Happy that it meant as much to him as it did to you, you both sat on the branch and ate. Two blocks from the old studio this used to be your escape. Every break you’d make your way to the tree for some time alone, together. 

With the burgers done he turned to you and smiled. It felt like he wanted to say something, but stupidly, you'd cut him short leading him back towards the car.

Making your way through your checklist you brought him back to where you'd first met. The Movement studios students were starstruck when he walked in. After insisting that he teach some choreography, he reluctantly led the class.

Your eyes were glued to him as he moved in front of the mirrors, no longer that awkward teenager but a full grown man mesmerizing you with his every move.

Getting back to the car he stopped you before you reached for the handle. Putting his arms around you he pulled you in close. But again, you resisted him. 

"You stink Jungkook, our next stop is the ocean."

You remember pulling away. How stupid you were, you should have held on to him longer. Reaching into the back seat you revealed a pair of swim shorts and a towel. He looked disappointed that you kept interrupting his attempts at intimacy. It broke your heart but you had a plan and limited time to execute it. 

The Ocean was chilly but the wind was warm, he came out of the change room with the shorts on but still wearing his shirt.

"Kookie, this isn’t Korea, you don’t have to be so modest here. Plus, you should grab some sun, you may not believe it but when your skin is sunkissed," you grinned, "you look really sexy."

He raised his eyebrows and quickly removed the shirt at your request.

Running into the water you splashed and played and he took great pleasure in picking you up and throwing you as far as he could.

The sun was getting ready to set and you wanted to dry off before the cooler air set in.

Leading him back to the shore you both laid down on the towel. He put his arm around you and you cuddled into his side.

"My god Guk, look at your abs!"

He blushed like crazy as you traced the muscles on his stomach.

"Stop, it tickles," he giggled.

But you didn’t, you kept tickling him until he held you so tight you couldn’t move. He had you pinned, flipping you on your back he shook his wet hair flinging water droplets all over you. Pleased with himself he leaned in closer to you, his eyes asking for permission to kiss you. As the gap between you got narrower you could hear his name being shouted and footsteps running closer. He flopped onto his back and sighed as your roommates and friends piled on top of him.

Eating, drinking and catching up with everyone you watched each other from across the bonfire. Moving from person to person he slowly made his way back to your side.

"Welcome back." Running your hand through the back of his hair, it was now or never. 

Pulling him closer your lips finally met in the way they were destined, soft, slow and full of love. His hands instinctively moved to cup your face as the world stopped around you.

"I love you," you whispered.

Nose to nose he smiled at you and it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

It didn’t last long, his phone started going off incessantly. The managers knew, you’d been careless, photos and videos of him from the studio had been posted online.

"I’m so sorry Jungkook, I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble."

His eyes turned hungry as he grabbed your hand.

"You promised I wouldn’t be going back to my hotel tonight, let’s get out of here."

If he was going to get in trouble anyway, why stop now?  

The drive back to your place was quiet, adrenaline and hormones flowing like electricity through you both. The time for smiling was over as the seriousness of the situation lingered in the air between you.

It wasn’t just being in trouble or being caught, but the fact that you both knew what was going to happen when you stepped into your bedroom. One act that would change everything between you, it held the power to change the dynamic of your relationship forever.

Leading him to your room you closed the door and stood staring at him as he sat on your bed. He raked his fingers through his hair before he spoke.

"I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to be able to make love to you. BUT I also know that when I leave I’m not going to get to see you again for a very long time." His head hung low. "Management is going to do everything possible to keep us apart and that won’t be fair to you. I think that maybe we should just let our happy memories of today be enough, I don’t want you to regret anything. " 

Walking closer you stood between his legs and he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"The only thing I'll regret is never getting to experience all of you. I can’t live not knowing how it feels to be totally yours even if it's only for one night."

He rested his head against your chest, "You’ll always be mine."

His hands traveled to the hem of your shirt and his fingers ran over the soft skin of your stomach. Undoing the button of your jeans he slowly slid them down your legs and you stepped out of them. 

Standing up he lifted the thin fabric of your shirt over your head and you stood before him waiting as he took his off too. Unclasping your bra he sighed as he looked at you taking in your shape, his fingertips hovering over your hard nipples.

"I’ve never done this before," he confessed.

"Me either," you whispered. "I've only ever wanted it to be you."

More relaxed he let his mouth start exploring your body. You were goosebumps and shivers beneath him as his tongue found it’s home between your legs.

He was soft and careful, placing his lips over your clit sucking it in delicately until your moans couldn’t be contained any longer. You could feel his eyes burning into you as he watched in awe as his finger slid inside you.

"It feels good Kookie, please…"

You could feel his mouth stopping to smile before he picked up speed. Moving your hips to eagerly meet his mouth you were unravelling quickly.

"The way you taste is better than anything I had imagined."

Devouring you in sessions between his words of adoration you came hard on his tongue. 

"I'm really regretting running you all over town today when we could have just been here...doing that.. " You were out of breath. 

"I was worried that I wouldn't be any good." He grinned at you pleased with himself. 

Moving up to where your head lay on the pillow he pushed the dampened hair off your face, "Are you ok? Do you need anything?"

He placed his forehead against yours.

"I just want you. I need you to know I'm yours, forever. 

Rolling a condom on he moved slowly to line himself up with your entrance.

"Tell me if you need me to stop okay?"

He pushed carefully, slowly stretching you around him. Watching intently for discomfort he froze when he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

"Shit, I’m so sorry, let’s stop, I didn’t mean to hurt you." He was apologetic as he thumbed away the tears.

"No," you delicately kissed his lips. "I’m okay… I’m just so happy, so overwhelmed with how much I’m feeling right now."

He smiled down at you, pressing his body closer he gave another push until he was fully inside. Your bodies fell into a beautifully choreographed rhythm until Jungkook was so lost in pleasure he began to move at his own pace. Quicker and deeper he moved until he finally spilled into the condom. 

Laying together in euphoria you kissed, and kissed, and kissed until you finally found sleep while wrapped around one other.

Every few hours he’d wake you up. His hands running over your body checking to make sure you weren't just a dream. You’d made love each time, everytime better than the last.

It was 9 am when he caressed you awake once more.

"I have to leave soon. I don’t want to." He spoke in whispers nestled into your neck. "Please tell me to stay."

Your heart broke at his words. "If I ask you to stay, I’m selfish, you’ll always wonder if you made the right decision." The tears came, knowing you had to do what was right. "If I tell you to go, your dreams come true… ” your voice trailed off.

"And I’ll always wonder if I made the right decision,” he finished. 

Your phone started ringing and you knew time was up.

It was Joon, "I’m outside. Sorry, I held them off as long as I could. I told them that I’d come get him so you could at least have time to say goodbye."

Your tears fell out in heavy ugly sobs, "Okay, five minutes… and Joon… thanks, I know you’re probably in trouble too."

Hanging up you turned back, Jungkook was already out of bed with his clothes thrown on. He stood with open arms bravely waiting. 

"Thank you for yesterday I'll never forget it."

Laying your head against his chest you took a moment to listen to his heartbeat. You could hear him sniffle and knew he was crying too.

You flashed back remembering that night long ago when he came to you homesick, holding you so he could sleep while he tried to hide his tears. There was a knock at the door and Namjoon’s voice broke through the moment.

"We’ve got to go Jungkook."

Stepping away you’d left his shirt soaked in tears, handing him his sweater he pushed it back towards you. "You keep it."

He kissed you one last time before opening the door to reveal Namjoon's weary face. His Hyung put his arm around his shoulder and led him to the car.

Turning one last time he looked back, his eyes were filled with tears as he gave a small wave before getting in the back of the big black sedan. 

For months you pretended that management was the only thing keeping you apart.

You held on to that silly notion until May when they were coming for the Billboard awards. For weeks leading up you waited for a message, a secret meeting arrangement, but you got nothing. His image was all over the TV and his voice echoed through your empty heart. Then, just like that, it was over and he was gone again. 

Now, here you stood in your kitchen, his letter bringing him to the forefront of your mind and opening old wounds.

He was just as sad as you but what could you do? 

Picking up a pen you began writing… 

I shouldn’t have done it but I read it in your letter

You said to a friend that you wish you were doing better

I wanted to reach out but I never said a thing

You don’t ever have to be stronger than you really are

And honey, you don’t ever have to act cooler than you think you should

You’re brighter than the brightest stars

You’re scared to win, scared to lose

I’ve heard the war was over if you really choose

The one in and around you

You hate the heat, you got the blues

You’re changing like the weather, oh, that’s so like you

I’ll pick you up

I’ll catch you on the flipside

If you come back to California

We’ll do whatever you want, travel wherever, how far

We’ll hit up all the old places

We’ll have a party, we can dance till dawn… 

Y/N

October came again and a chill was in the air, the smell of the ocean hit your nose and you stopped to take it in.

Bundled in Jungkook’s hoodie you threw your bag over your shoulder and began your walk to work. You'd gotten lucky, Movement had hired you just as you were about to give up and leave California. Filled with hope and excitement a new intensive program was scheduled to start today and you were going to meet the future superstars of the dance world. 

Memories flooded your mind as you made your way through the familiar neighborhood. It still hurt, but things were beginning to feel happy again. Writing the letter had given you closure, he knew how you felt and beyond that there was nothing else you could do.

Opening the heavy door to the studio you caught a familiar reflection moving in the mirror.  Chalk marker in hand he was writing something, It couldn’t be?

Hearing the door click back into place he turned to face you.

"Hi."

He walked towards you slowly. Unsure of what your reaction would be, he approached with caution.

"Hi."

You were breathless, in the months of not seeing him he’d only grown more handsome.

"I can’t change what happened… and for the rest of my life I’ll be sorry for all of the time we missed."

He was getting closer.

"But I can’t take another day not knowing if I can fix this… somehow…"

He reached for your hand but you pulled it away. His head fell in disappointment.

"Jungkook, I can’t listen to this… look at me."

Reaching for his chin you pulled his head up until he was facing you again.

"I refuse to listen to you apologize for something that is out of your control. Your life was decided before you met me and I am nothing but grateful that I got to appear in some part of your story."

He tilted his head and pressed a small kiss into the hand that was still holding his chin.

"God I’ve missed you." He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

"How long are you here? I’ve got to teach class.. It’s the first day but I’d love it if we could catch up?"

He laughed at you and your knees buckled at the sound of his happiness.

Taking his chance he pressed his lips to yours and you could feel the smile forming on his face.

"I’m your private lesson Jagi, I’ve booked you for the next two weeks."

Taking a step back you had to ask, "How Jungkook? What will you be giving up?"

Pulling you back to his embrace he began to dance with you.

"There is no more giving up, on anything. Our contracts were over and I only had one thing I wouldn’t negotiate on, that’s you." 

He guided you to look at the mirror.

"I wrote you something."

~Please call my name one more time

I’m standing under the frozen light, 

but I’ll walk step by step towards you

Still with you ~

"I promise I’ll never let you go again."

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #Jeongguk #jungkook x reader #kookie #nochu #10 years with jungkook #california #lana del rey

[thebeautyoffandoms]

hello ! i was hoping to get a matchup for mystic messenger and (optional) haikyuu.

my pronouns are she/her but i am fine with whatever pronouns. i am a straight asexual. some good things about myself is that i’m usually quiet, i think i’m pretty open-minded, and i think i have a good sense of humor. often times i can be very mean and egotistical, i’m lazy and very unmotivated, and i dont think i care about important things as much as i should. i am an istp. i think i’d probably be a slytherin. i really like candy, and listening to music. on the contrary i dislike anything green apple flavored or grape flavored, and i rreally dislike kids. i dont really have any opinions on thinggs i do/dont look for in a partner, just as long as they give me some attention. i enjoy watching movies/animes/shows and playing video games. i dont have an exact genre, but i like listening to alt(?) and pop.

Hello!! Thank you so much for requesting, and I really hope you like it! (And i’m so sorry that it took so long!!!)

For Mystic Messenger, I feel like Jumin Han is a good match for you!!

(I’m sorry I really like that gif aornfonarf-)

First of all, Jumin appreciates your being more on the quiet side. The man’s not a loud person himself, and prefers to be around people similar to him, so that fact about you doesn’t take long to take a jab at his interest. While he’s stubborn, and takes a bit to warm up to others, he isn’t displeased when he finds himself growing fond of you. In fact, after having it pointed out by some of the RFA, Jumin realizes that it’s quite the opposite. He’s glad? The Jumin Han, glad to make a friend…? Despite the teasing from the others in the RFA, it’s true. It’s good that you’re open-minded, because Jumin can be rather unfaltering in what he believes. He wouldn’t pester you to think the same thing as him, but it’s entirely possible that he brings up his thoughts as if they’re fact more often than not. Now, Jumin never minded if you were mean. He himself can be blunt and rude at times, and his emotions aren’t sensitive. He’s coolheaded, and typically can shrug any mean comments or actions off. While he may not get along with many egotistical people (our fine example being Zen) he will find a way to get used to you. While he may not be the world’s greatest hypeman, he will try to boost your ego in, typically, subtle ways. He enjoys complimenting you, buying you things, and trying to make you feel like the loveliest girl in the world, and won’t mind if you don’t argue with it. He lucked out with someone who has a good sense of humor, because he makes jokes somewhat often, but they’re never, you know… funny-. Laugh at his jokes, or at least react positively, and he will feel a bit proud of himself. Well, he’d feel proud of his joke no matter what, but making you smile is one of the greatest achievements in his book. Jumin isn’t a lazy person, but I don’t think he’ll particularly care if you are. Want to stay home all day? Don’t want to work? Yeah, ok, you’re covered. Food will be prepared for you no matter what, Driver Kim can take you wherever, and he’s got people who can do all the shopping, cleaning, and such. Unless you feel motivated to do those things, he’s got you entirely covered. While Jumin will have things covered for you, he’s not going to let you get past with every little thing. Not to say he wouldn’t like to, he just wants to make sure you stay healthy and happy. He reminds you of the important things you may forget, and will make sure that you get them done, even if it means he should help you. In fact, he’s more than willing to help you. I’m pretty sure Jumin says that he works out as he should, and so he’ll convince you to tag along with him. Not only does it make him feel a bit more motivated, but it lets him have the reassurance that you’re being taken care of as well. I’m not sure if it’s ever said, but I personally headcanon Jumin as someone who doesn’t have an opinion on kids. He isn’t particularly fond of them, wouldn’t mind having one should his s/o want one, but is completely fine without them should his s/o not want one. Jumin is perfectly content having cats instead of kids, and can only hope you feel the same, because… I don’t think this man could survive without his Elizabeth the Third. Also, though he is busy, and works a lot, he still makes sure to spend time with you. He tries not to stay at work too late so that the two of you can eat dinner together, and, on the weekends, expect to be taken to fancy restaurants. He also really enjoys taking you shopping. This man just loves spoiling you <3

 For Haikyuu, I feel like Tsukishima Kei is a good match for you!

To be honest, after getting to know you, you can be like a breath of fresh air for Tsukki. He’s surrounded by loud, energetic people for a lot of the day, so he enjoys your company. The two of you probably ended up being friends, eventually more, because of a group project or something, and he just… never removed your number from his contacts list. If you like volleyball, he probably used seeing you at a game as an excuse to keep contacting you. As implied by Tsukki getting annoyed by the loud, energetic people, he really likes that you’re quieter. While he’s not too noisy himself, if the both of you are feeling quiet, he’ll turn on a playlist the two of you share and the both of you can do your own things. Times like those are more relaxing than Tsukki would ever admit, but he secretly hopes that you think the same. Should it be you, him, and Yamaguchi, it’s probably more likely that there’s conversation going on, but Tsukishima still enjoys having your playlist going in the background. Mean and egotistical are both words commonly used to describe Tsukishima himself. Though he’s arrogant on the outside, he’s still self-conscious. However, he doesn’t always mind your big ego. Sure, he’ll tease you for it, but you won’t catch him actually trying to lower your ego. Plus, he likes when you’re mean. I see Tsukishima as the type to enjoy playful banter, and he also enjoys being able to trash others with you. If you use an especially creative and/or pointed insult to someone who deserves it, his smirk will definitely grow and he’ll probably glance at you proudly. The biggest thing Tsukishima would have to get used to in the relationship is laziness. While I can see him getting used to it, as he isn’t as energetic or motivated as a lot of his teammates, it takes him a bit longer to. He also grows to learn to remind you of important things. Expect him to tease, and occasionally nag, about that. He won’t take it too far though, and finds himself setting reminders on both of your phones to ensure that you don’t forget things that are too important. Should you need his help with something like that, he’ll pretend to be annoyed, but will help you nonetheless. Tsukishima is kind of relieved when he finds out that you don’t like kids. While he doesn’t want to rush the relationship and would avoid talks of kids or marriage so that he didn’t make you feel uncomfortable, or make the two of you feel like you should rush things, he’s never been fond of children. He has to deal with the childishness of his teammates enough to know that he couldn’t handle an actual child. Also, while he tries to do so discreetly and without actually saying it’s a date, he really enjoys spending time with you. Even if it’s just listening to music and sitting around, or going to the theatres (or heck, even just the others’ house) to watch a movie, he’s pretty content having you in his life. Though, of course, it’ll take him forever to actually admit that <3

#matchup #matchups #anon #haikyuu matchup #mystic messenger matchup #jumin Han #tsukishima kei

[kkintle]

Looking for Alaska by John Green; Quotes

“Francois Rabelais. He was this poet. And his last words were 'I go to seek a Great Perhaps.' That's why I'm going. So I don't have to wait until I die to start seeking a Great Perhaps.”

Because you simply cannot draw these things out forever. At some point, you just pull off the Band-Aid and it hurts, but then it's over and you're relieved.

“'He'—that's Simon Bolivar—*was shaken by the overwhelming revelation that the headlong race between his misfortunes and his dreams was at that moment reaching the finish line. The rest was darkness. ”Damn it,“ he sighed. ”How will I ever get out of thislabyrinth!'“”

She had the kind of eyes that predisposed you to supporting her every endeavor.

Because you may be smart, but I've been smart longer.

(...) the most important pursuit in history: the search for meaning. What is the nature of being a person? What is the best way to go about being a person? How did we come to be, and what will become of us when we are no longer? In short: What are the rules of this game, and how might we best play it?"

I learned that myth doesn't mean a lie; it means a traditional story that tells you something about people and their worldview and what they hold sacred.

She smiled with all the delight of a kid on Christmas morning and said, “Y'all smoke to enjoy it. I smoke to die.”

(...) and I jogged after him, trailing in his wake. I wanted to be one of those people who have streaks to maintain, who scorch the ground with their intensity. But for now, at least I knew such people, and they needed me, just like comets need tails.

“You've got a lifetime to mull over the Buddhist understanding of interconnectedness.” He spoke every sentence as if he'd written it down, memorized it, and was now reciting it. “But while you were looking out the window, you missed the chance to explore the equally interesting Buddhist belief in being present for every facet of your daily life, of being truly present. Be present in this class. And then, when it's over, be present out there,” he said, nodding toward the lake and beyond.

“I may die young,” she said. “But at least I'll die smart. Now, back to tangents.”

“Getting out isn't that easy,” she said seriously, her eyes on mine like I knew the way out and wouldn't tell her.

“Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia.” “Huh?” I asked. “You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you'll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present.”

“Sometimes I don't get you,” I said. She didn't even glance at me. She just smiled toward the television and said, “You never get me. That's the whole point.”

“He loves me,” Alaska told me as we walked back to the dorm circle. “He loves all y'all, too. He just loves the school more. That's the thing. He thinks busting us is good for the school and good for us. It's the eternal struggle, Pudge. The Good versus the Naughty.”

“Sometimes you lose a battle. But mischief always wins the war.”

“So Friday? Do you have plans for Friday?” And then I laughed, because the Colonel and I didn't have plans for this Friday, or for any other Friday for the rest of our lives.

And I vaguely remember Lara smiling at me from the doorway, the glittering ambiguity of a girl's smile, which seems to promise an answer to the question but never gives it. The question, the one we've all been asking since girls stopped being gross, the question that is too simple to be uncomplicated: Does she like me or like me?

“It is sad,” I repeated. “I mean, it's stupid to miss someone you didn't even get along with. But, I don't know, it was nice, you know, having someone you could always fight with.”

“Sorry. Don't worry, dude,” he said. “God will punish the wicked. And before He does, we will.”

“Hold on.” He grabbed a pencil and scrawled excitedly at the paper as if he'd just made a mathematical breakthrough and then looked back up at me. “I just did some calculations, and I've been able to determine that you're full of shit.”

“It's not life or death, the labyrinth.” “Urn, okay. So what is it?” “Suffering,” she said. “Doing wrong and having wrong things happen to you. That's the problem. Bolivar was talking about the pain, not about the living or dying. How do you get out of the labyrinth of suffering?” “What's wrong?” I asked. And I felt the absence of her hand on me. “Nothing's wrong. But there's always suffering, Pudge. Homework or malaria or having a boyfriend who lives far away when there's a good-looking boy lying next to you. Suffering is universal. It's the one thing Buddhists, Christians, and Muslims are all worried about.”

“You shall love your crooked neighbour/ With your crooked heart,”

I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch, to wrap my arms around her and sleep. Not fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together, in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend and I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane.

“Night falls fast. Today is in the past,”

Alaska decided to go help Dolores with dinner. She said that it was sexist to leave the cooking to the women, but better to have good sexist food than crappy boy-prepared food.

“Don't you know who you love, Pudge? You love the girl who makes you laugh and shows you porn and drinks wine with you. You don't love the crazy, sullen bitch.” And there was something to that, truth be told.

People, I thought, wanted security. They couldn't bear the idea of death being a big black nothing, couldn't bear the thought of their loved ones not existing, and couldn't even imagine themselves not existing. I finally decided that people believed in an afterlife because they couldn't bear not to.

The Great Perhaps was upon us, and we were invincible. The plan may have had faults, but we did not.

“Prick us, we bleed. Prick him, he pops.”

I don't know. Like the way the sun is right now, with the long shadows and that kind of bright, soft light you get when the sun isn't quite setting? That's the light that makes everything better, everything prettier, and today, everything just seemed to be in that light.

I found myself thinking about President William McKinley, the third American president to be assassinated. He lived for several days after he was shot, and toward the end, his wife started crying and screaming, “I want to go, too! I want to go, too!” And with his last measure of strength, McKinley turned to her and spoke his last words: “We are all going.”

There comes a time when we realize that our parents cannot save themselves or save us, that everyone who wades through time eventually gets dragged out to sea by the undertow��that, in short, we are all going.

“Pudge, what you must understand about me is that I ama deeply unhappy person.”

“But a lot of times, people die how they live. And so last words tell me a lot about who people were, and why they became the sort of people biographies get written about. Does that make sense?”

And what is an “instant” death anyway? How long is an instant? Is it one second? Ten? The pain of those seconds must have been awful as her heart burst and her lungs collapsed and there was no air and no blood to her brain and only raw panic. What the hell is instant? Nothing is instant. Instant rice takes five minutes, instant pudding an hour. I doubt that an instant of blinding pain feels particularly instantaneous.

Straight & Fast.

How will we ever get out of this labyrinth of suffering?—A. Y.

“Because everybody who has ever lost their way in life has felt the nagging insistence of that question. At some point we all look up and realize we are lost in a maze, (...)

I wondered if there would ever be a day when I didn't think about Alaska, wondered whether I should hope for a time when she would be a distant memory—recalled only on the anniversary of her death, or maybe a couple of weeks after, remembering only after having forgotten. I knew that I would know more dead people. The bodies pile up. Could there be a space in my memory for each of them, or would I forget a little of Alaska every day for the rest of my life?

“You can't just make me different and then leave,” I said out loud to her. “Because I was fine before, Alaska. I was fine with just me and last words and school friends, and you can't just make me different and then die.” For she had embodied the Great Perhaps—she had proved to me that it was worth it to leave behind my minor life for grander maybes, and now she was gone and with her my faith in perhaps. I could call everything the Colonel said and did “fine.” I could try to pretend that I didn't care anymore, but it could never be true again. You can't just make yourself matter and then die, Alaska, because now I am irretrievably different, and I'm sorry I let you go, yes, but you made the choice. You left me Perhapsless, stuck in your goddamned labyrinth. And now I don't even know if you chose the straight and fast way out, if you left me like this on purpose. And so I never knew you, did I? I can't remember, because I never knew.

The times that were the most fun seemed always to be followed by sadness now, because it was when life started to feel like it did when she was with us that we realized how utterly, totally gone she was.

'Everything that comes together falls apart,'” the Old Man said. "Everything. The chair I'm sitting on. It was built, and so it will fall apart. I'm gonna fall apart, probably before this chair. And you're gonna fall apart. The cells and organs and systems that make you you—they came together, grew together, and so must fall apart. The Buddha knew one thing science didn't prove for millennia after his death: Entropy increases. Things fall apart."

We are all going, I thought, and it applies to turtles and turtlenecks, Alaska the girl and Alaska the place, because nothing can last, not even the earth itself. The Buddha said that suffering was caused by desire, we'd learned, and that the cessation of desire meant the cessation of suffering. When you stopped wishing things wouldn't fall apart, you'd stop suffering when they did.

The hardest part about pranking, Alaska told me once, is not being able to confess.

I'd finally had enough of chasing after a ghost who did not want to be discovered. We'd failed, maybe, but some mysteries aren't meant to be solved. I still did not know her as I wanted to, but I never could.

Did I help you toward a fate you didn't want, Alaska, or did I just assist in your willful self-destruction? Because they are different crimes, and I didn't know whether to feel angry at her for making me part of her suicide or just to feel angry at myself for letting her go.

“After all this time, it still seems to me like straight and fast is the only way out—but I choose the labyrinth. The labyrinth blows, but I choose it.”

(...) we had to forgive to survive in the labyrinth. There were so many of us who would have to live with things done and things left undone that day. Things that did not go right, things that seemed okay at the time because we could not see the future. If only we could see the endless string of consequences that result from our smallest actions. But we can't know better until knowing better is useless.

I still think that, sometimes, think that maybe “the afterlife” is just something we made up to ease the pain of loss, to make our time in the labyrinth bearable. Maybe she was just matter, and matter gets recycled.

But ultimately I do not believe that she was only matter. The rest of her must be recycled, too. I believe now that we are greater than the sum of our parts. If you take Alaska's genetic code and you add her life experiences and the relationships she had with people, and then you take the size and shape of her body, you do not get her. There is something else entirely. There is a part of her greater than the sum of her knowable parts. And that part has to go somewhere, because it cannot be destroyed.

Those awful things are survivable, because we are as indestructible as we believe ourselves to be. When adults say, “Teenagers think they are invincible” with that sly, stupid smile on their faces, they don't know how right they are. We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think that we are invincible because we are. We cannot be born, and we cannot die. Like all energy, we can only change shapes and sizes and manifestations. They forget that when they get old. They get scared of losing and failing. But that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so it cannot fail.

So I know she forgives me, just as I forgive her. Thomas Edison's last words were: “It's very beautiful over there.” I don't know where there is, but I believe it's somewhere, and I hope it's beautiful.

Most loves don't last. (Whitney sure didn't. I can't even remember her last name.) But some do.

Almost by definition, last words are difficult to verify. Witnesses are emotional, time gets conflated, and the speaker isn't around to clear up any controversy.

I was born into Bolivar's labyrinth, and so I must believe in the hope of Rabelais' Great Perhaps.

#looking for alaska #John green #quotes #fiction

[forestofschwarzwald]

More swallowed asks, I’m so glad I keep docs with the questions lol.

ANONYMOUS: Wow Victoria x Reiji sure have a lot of kids and they are all gorgeous! Any headcanons of their kids? What are their favorites and hobbies and how well do they get along with each other

And do they have a favorite uncle? I am really partial to Demetria I think.

I couldn’t help myself after I started figuring out how much Reiji wanted to top his father all ways possible. After the first 3, I ended up wanting more children… heh I guess he charmed me.

As for favorites... they are all special to me in some way, let’s say to each of my babies I have a special but different link that cannot be compared.

About their uncles, Reiji killed the triplets a long time ago, before Gin was born. So they never met them, in case that it seems strange that they’re not mentioned!

Here’s what they have to say about your question:

Hah I feel like you humans sometimes are interested in very trivial stuff… aren’t you?

Most of my free time is spent training and studying, even if it’s tough to keep up with a strict schedule, my parents don’t micromanage every minute of my day so… it feels nice. For a long time I was a prisoner, so most of my hobbies are simply habits of escapism where I put my mind away.

I like crafting bijouterie.My mother has been nurturing it for a while now, she goes out of her way to pick up the items I want.

The earring I wear is the first I made, I’ve always loved feathers.

As for my uncles… I… don’t know. Dmitri’s father, Shu, is a music teacher but I was never interested in learning, so we don’t talk.

Uncle Subaru is nice, he wasn’t too good at swordsmanship so Dmitri and I had to teach him. Despite being a weakling he has spirit, and he likes me to make bijouterie pieces for his little girl, so I’d say I get along with him the most.

When it comes to my siblings… Dianthe and Damien were always hard to get used to, up until they grew older I couldn’t really… “fit in”. When I returned to my parents I was an adult and there were two little kids I should call siblings? 

I preferred to keep my distance and rebuild the relationship with my parents. The older they became the better they understood my space but they still feel like “classmates” or “roommates” more than siblings. I don’t particularly dislike them, Dianthe used to set my cape on fire whenever I accidentally made Damien cry… but gladly she grew out of that habit. Sadly she still nags me about my language… It’s irritating… 

Dorian. Demetria and Dante always chased me around when they were young, and they still do when they need help… I guess they’re scared of Dianthe’s reaction so they use me as their shield. I think they’re nice, but Dorian and Demetria get in trouble on purpose often.

Dante and Damien are… a bit weird though, they’re so calm? I’m not saying I myself am annoying, but… it feels like they’re not even vampires. I think I prefer spending time with the rest of my siblings… those two make me feel like an oddball faster.

Hobbies… I believe this heavily depends on my mood.

When the weather and the atmosphere is peculiar, I enjoy writing poetry.

Our uncle, Shu, taught me how to play the violin and sometimes I play alongside Damien when our parents organize a ball at the mansion, I must say I find it pleasurable.

But… fufu ~ of course, there are things I learned to indulge in.

We were all home-schooled, however, we have a duty to attend high school as a way to keep a human cover. Humans are very interesting, what they call sins are things they are quick to indulge in with no hesitation… a little pull and I have a dog for weeks…

They quickly get greedy and want my attention for themselves… ~ And there is no better feeling than the tears of a heartbroken pet that couldn’t help but want more of me.

Ah… of course, this is a secret. My parents hold me in high regard when it comes to school behavior, trying to tell them that I’m bullying other students will get you killed ♥

About a favorite uncle, I certainly prefer uncle Shu. He is well cultured and knows quite a lot about music, he has never been mean to me or my siblings… despite clearly disliking my father. I am unaware of the tensions between them however I know it’s a centuries-old story. Because of this I never talk about it with my father, and to be sincere… I feel more comfortable talking to uncle Shu than I do with my own father…

No matter how much he says he loves his children, I can’t help but think he only sees us as… the product of him and my mother. It irritates me… even if perhaps that’s what parenthood is… I feel Shu-sama’s appreciation for us is far more sincere, and unconditional. Father also thinks he can control how we look and how we behave at all times… we are not his little toys for him to try and mold us to his taste! We are individuals.

Ah… I may have gotten carried away… I have a bad habit. I picked it up from both my parents… I just keep talking and talking about things that irritate me. Fufu… well it doesn't matter anymore.

For my siblings, I would appreciate it if they were all like Damien, well behaved, well mannered, able to follow the rules and quiet. However this is not the case.

Gin may have been excused by our parents, even spoiled in my honest opinion, but I believe he needs to be properly educated in how to address formal situations! Despite me heavily disliking the imposition of a mold to adapt to, I understand its importance. Gin could have some consideration and at least not make the whole family look weak! He rolls his eyes, does not stand straight and eats like a caveman!

I don’t care how much he says he was a soldier, a prisoner, and whatnot! He is not anymore, he’s a prince and he should behave as such!

Damien is the one I get along with the most. He’s adorable and always looked for me for help, he was always interested in learning etiquette, and everything my father and mother taught us. He was always a respectable part of our family and he is the cook at the mansion! Our father is still far more skilled, but Damien makes very nice… “homemade” looking food. It has a loving warmth to it… I love my little brother.

Dorian… he thinks he is so much better than everyone else… he keeps competing with me at everything and, of course… he fails miserably. He is a mediocre number 2 that does not realize that being royal is about meeting goals, not just being born it. I would burn his eyebrows off if our parents weren’t so keen on reminding us not to fight. Despite this fact, he is quite the skilled dancer and always stands at parties, I am below average at this, and that is the only thing he’s allowed to win at.

His vanity will catch up to him one day, however. My mother has always expressed her concern about Dorian’s extravagant behavior, she believes he will be one day shot down from the skies and he’ll fall deep, and if anyone is to be believed… that is my mother. She knows how vampires are… or perhaps, Dorian has a bit of my father in him.

Demetria is quite the impressive lady, she meets all expectations… but she doesn’t talk to me much. As her older sister I have always offered my help, but she is… cold. Most of the time I can’t tell what’s going through her mind.

And our baby boy Dante… he was always a sick child. He was so weak when he was born that our mother decided to curse herself to not bear any more children. I know the word “curse” sounds strong… but worry not, she merely magically sterilized herself, it is a “curse” because it is irreversible.

Anyhow, Dante is the weakest among us and we all feel generally protective of him. However, I suspect there may be more to him than just… weakness. You see, Dante is usually calm and… quite tolerant, but when enraged… even I have trembled at the sensation of his aura. I think Dante may have explosive powers that he is unaware of… so I keep a good eye on him, we do not want his overwhelming power to hurt his weaker body. Despite that… he really is a brat, he likes to mock my manners as if I was some grandma roaming the mansion, and that is quite irritating! I know he is having fun whilst teasing me, but can’t he shut up for one millisecond as I talk to my mother?! 

Hm… Ah… I have spoken for so long that my throat feels dry… You should be paying for this, you know? I have given you such a thorough explanation… blood is the least you should be offering right now.

Oh good evening, that is an interesting question. I always enjoyed gardening, the castle has many different types of flowers, even flowers you won’t believe existed are in underground hidden gardens, so I can confidently say that is my hobby.

I keep a diary where I draw each flower and study its properties. Being sincere, my father gives me the details since I personally am not fond of chemistry.

I also enjoy making bouquets for decor when there are parties at the mansion or as gifts, Aurora enjoys them a lot.

I don’t think I have a favorite uncle, both of them are nice to me.

As for my siblings, hm… —he sighs— I wish they weren’t so closed about their feelings. Dante and I agree that half of their problems are because they don’t admit how they feel.

Gin is very distant… We don't know what really happened to him before he attacked the castle years ago, and when I tried asking I got punched in the face haha… —he scratches the side of his face, smiling awkwardly — He apologized so many times afterwards, I’ve lost count of it. I learned not to ask about that. My older sister Dianthe is always treating me like I am her baby, and always pretends everything is okay, but I think something about Dorian and Demetria wanting to be the next head of the family is bothering her. She doesn’t talk about it and keeps acting like she is the eldest and in charge… but I think she’s having a hard time, she should realize how much of a perfect fit for a queen she is.

She’s a really gentle person… She may have some really weird hobbies… but I think deep down Dianthe is a kind soul, like our parents.

Dorian and Demetria both keep competing with Dianthe because they see her excel at so many things, that they feel like they’re less than her. They simply are insecure and they crave attention. I have to keep an eye on the kitchen or they’ll try to cook and blow it up… Our father is very sensible about the kitchen so I have to guard it.

I think Dorian and Demetria will have the hardest time coping with immortality… I sincerely worry but they don’t listen to me! They think that because I’m soft spoken I’m simply weak… —he sighs again.

Dante is usually quiet and I would say he is the most healthy mentally. However, he has some anger issues… whenever he is extremely angry his aura will rise… I never saw Gin and Dianthe scared before… so I’m aware they felt like not even them could handle Dante’s power. I worry about him since he is very frail, I’ve seen our father check on Dante’s physical condition regularly.

If he gets injured he takes longer to regenerate, he doesn’t drink live blood… he drinks donated blood from a plastic bag. I can understand how disturbing it is that we have to sink our fangs and hurt someone to feed… but… I worry he is deteriorating his state… He’s not interested in relationships so the chances of him having someone personally feed him are low as long as he does this.

He’s nice… he always keeps Dorian and Demetria in line by calling their attention or advising them. Despite being the youngest, he acts like he’s older than those two troublemakers.

We often find ourselves shaking our heads at the behavior of our siblings, I think he understands me the most, although I don’t think I understand him fully.

I hope to have answered all of your questions.

Usually I would request for you to be on all fours and kiss my boots before you try to get any personal detail from me… but out of whim, I will be lenient. Just know that the rest of my pets won’t like you and… if they bite you, I won’t take any responsibility —he fixes himself on the sofa, legs spread in a relaxed manner — Anyway… what were you asking me about? Ah yes yes… Well I enjoy creating poisons. My father expanded on this with other types of chemicals… but I just like the good old slow burn of death… of course, I was prohibited from killing animals and people on purpose… so I simply focused on antidotes as well.

I don’t use them often however, they’re harder to make than you’d think.

As for my siblings… they’re unavoidable and a nuisance. Dante is extremely creepy with his aura bursts and Dianthe keeps nagging, I could do without them, but if I had to choose the least of nuisances I would say Dante is good enough. The older three have a tendency to exert authority over the rest of us and I am frankly not a fan.

When it comes to a favorite uncle I of course have none, the only reason they are around in the first place is thanks to my mother’s incomprehensible kindness and my father’s loyalty to her will. Whenever they visit I rather spend my precious yet limited time somewhere else.

Well, what are you waiting for? Either bow down to me or leave, I have plenty of hungry pets to discipline already so don’t waste my time.

Your favorite, huh ~ I am not surprised. After all, who wouldn’t fall for my charms ;)

Anyway, let’s paint a clearer image of myself for you, shall we? In my free time I like to design BDSM instruments and sextoys… fufu~ Humans rarely ever openly embrace their sinful nature, but beasts like us shamelessly embrace our darkest thoughts in a “heartbeat”.

As for my siblings… I wish Dianthe didn’t exist. She thinks she’s special and every time I get to impress our parents she shows up, almost like she has a timer set for it.

Her facade sickens me… one small poke at her and she will blow up and drop her “perfect princess” mask. Yet our parents think she is deserving of the crown?! She does not have true manners if all of her manners are fake!

Anyway… Gin is quite the brute… and Dorian gets on everyone's nerves quite fast. He is the reason we are all afraid of our mother in the first place, he has managed to somehow make her furious once. That day we knew she could kill us if we defied the crown.

Dante is… —her lips curl into a soft smile— while he is a bit younger than me he has always behaved like my older brother. He helped me whenever I struggled, and he always tells me I’m good enough.

About my uncles, there is not much to say about them is it? I am not interested in the non-royal side of the family.

Hobbies...I love videogames, and I have a favorite character that I love and cherish. I also enjoy streaming and speedrunning some games, sometimes my mother joins in for some quality content.

With the exception of my mother, I think my entire family is crazy… I don’t hate them though, I think they’re cool. But… they’re weird.

Uncle Shu is always donating to my streams, he’s really supportive. Despite his and father’s terrible relationship, he seems to be willing to stay a family figure for all of us.

#AVictoria #AGin #ADianthe #ADamien #ADorian #ADemetria #ADante #Diabolik Lovers #OCs #Self shipping

[homogrimoire]

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

Fair Game Week 2020: Day 2 - Date / Domestic

Read it on AO3 here.

Against his better judgement, he told Ruby, who then got Yang, Weiss, and Blake involved, that he was going on a date with Clover. He ended up spending the latter half of a day with them at what seemed like a million different shops. It was torture, but had to admit it was nice to spend some time with them outside of a life or death situation. He could once again see that his nieces had more … unique tastes. Ruby kept recommending outfits that were pretty cool, but were also too much for a date. Yang had her father’s fashion sense, of course, but unlike her father, she could pull it off. This meant that her choices weren’t particularly good for a date either. Qrow considers it a miracle Tai ever got any dates. Weiss and Blake fared much better in helping Qrow. Blake recommended more sensible outfits that he found more agreeable. Weiss’ recommendations were a bit more eccentric than Blake’s, but were still appropriate for a date.  Sure, it was all a lot of fuss for what wasn’t even their first date, but Qrow did have fun, and the girls did get some new clothes too.

Qrow ended up getting a new pair of black slacks, a simple red and black leather vest, and a dark gray long sleeved shirt to wear under. While it wasn’t their first date, it was their first one to an actual restaurant and not the cafeteria or one of their rooms. Having the girls approve of the new outfit helped him feel more confident about what was probably their first real date. When Weiss asked what restaurant they were going to, he told her it was some place called “The City of Commerce”, which, according to Clover, was “nothing too fancy.” However, seeing her jaw drop when he told her made him concerned.

“Uhh, Weiss?” Ruby asked, trying to break her out of her stupor. She did shae herself out of it after a moment.

“Nothing fancy!? What does he do, eat with the gods everyday?! Forgive me,” she said, regaining her composure, “it’s just that it’s literally the most difficult restaurant to get into in Atlas. My father was on the waitlist for a year before he could make a reservation. My father. Head of the Schnee Dust Company. A year! We’ve only been here a few months!” Her expression shifted from crazed to that of someone who realized something. “Oh my gods were sending you dressed like that.”

“Come on Weiss, his outfit isn’t that bad.” said Yang. “Vests and slacks are fancy clothes, right?”

“No, Yang, you don’t get it. My coat was made from the fur of an extinct animal. My dress had cost more than what your dad will probably make in his lifetime, and that was just me. They almost didn’t let Winter in because they said her earrings didn’t match her outfit. They were purple diamonds from our mother that were cut to look like the Schnee logo and had a solid gold outline. They cost more than everything we have on us.” They all could only stare at Weiss in disbelief, and then at Qrow with concern. By that time, they were already back at the academy and all the shops were bound to be closed, and Qrow certainly didn’t have the time to get a fitted suit made. He considered asking James, but the man was built like a truck, so anything he had would be too big. He couldn’t call Clover because the man had a sleep schedule that he rigidly followed, and Qrow couldn’t bring himself to wake him up. Even worse, their reservation was in the morning, just as the place opened.

“I think it’ll be fine. If Clover had any concerns, he probably would have told you, right?” Blake said, breaking the dreadful silence, only to be met with more silence. “... Right?”

“I mean, she has a point. It’s Clover we’re talking about, the leader of the Ace Ops, General Ironwood’s right hand man, the man who will be hurt very badly if he breaks our uncle’s heart! He’s not gonna mess this up.” There were murmurs of agreement by the girls. Yang laid a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “You’ll be fine Uncle Qrow.”

“Yeah, I guess I will Firecracker.” He gave her a little smile, which she returned in full.

“That’s what I like to hear!”

“I’d like to hear the sound of my head hitting a pillow if you ask me.” They laughed at his little joke.

“Alright, alright, we’ll get going. Good night Uncle Qrow.” said Yang.

“Good night Uncle Qrow!” said the rest of them as they went their way. Hearing Weiss and Blake call him that still seemed so surreal. Even Nora, Ren, and Jaune had started calling him that a while back too. At first, he would tell them to knock it off, and that he could hardly qualify as their uncle. Despite this, they persisted and he eventually gave up on getting them to stop, even though he still felt that it made no sense for them to be calling him such. Only recently did he see why they did think of him as their Uncle Qrow, and that was thanks to Clover. Clover helped him see that he did do a lot of good for those kids, and that they cared for him. Not to mention that Ren and Nora were orphans most of their life, so Qrow was probably one of the few adults to really care for them. The only adult, as far as he knew, that really cared for Weiss was Winter, but she could only be with Weiss for so long because of her job. He had a good feeling that Blake was gonna be his future niece-in-law, so he would probably have to get used to it eventually. As for Jaune, he couldn’t really think of any reason he could call him Uncle Qrow, save for the fact that was common among all the kids: they all cared for Qrow, just as he cared for them. At least now, he could accept that he wasn’t so undeserving of such love.

As Qrow laid down in bed, hair still somewhat moist from a shower, he hoped that the morning would turn out alright. Despite his talk with the kids earlier, there was still a nagging feeling of dread. It was fortunate that he was slowly but surely learning to ignore that irrational voice. Qrow knew that he was loved, and was deserving of love. He knew that Clover wouldn’t get something like this wrong either. Soon, he fell asleep, hopeful that tomorrow would be alright.

-

Qrow awoke early in the morning to get ready. It had been some time since he had been on a real date, and even longer he had been on one sober. It was exciting, but still very terrifying to him. He just didn’t want to mess things up, which he had felt he was prone to do because of his semblance. While Qrow had been making progress in controlling his semblance, which he was training with Clover to do, his control was not yet where he would like it to be. But, any sort of control was better than none, so Qrow wasn’t going to complain. If anything, he felt a bit proud of that growth, and that was in part because Clover was genuinely proud of him too. Qrow remembers the first time he showed some control over his semblance, and Clover congratulated him with his bright smile and a pat on the back. It was at that moment that Qrow realized that he was in love with the man. Coincidentally, Clover confessed to him a few days after and they had been dating since.

Before leaving his room, Qrow looked at himself in the mirror. His clothes that needed to be ironed were freshly ironed, free of any wrinkles, and fit his body rather well. His hair was gelled and styled nicely. Ever since Clover expressed how much he liked his gray hairs, Qrow had felt more confident about it. He could understand where Clover was coming from, since he found Clover’s gray hairs to be pretty hot too. He had also applied some eyeliner that Blake recommended. He mentally noted that he should stock up on some of that brand. Over all, Qrow was very pleased with how he looked. If there was anything he was ever confident about, it was his looks and fashion sense, and felt that the outfit really made him look good, especially since it displayed all his best assets well. As a last minute addition, he tied a green handkerchief around his neck. He checked himself out in the mirror one last time and left his room feeling very good and satisfied, and made his way down to the front of the academy where Clover had texted him a taxi would be waiting.

Qrow was the first to arrive and waited just inside of the Academy for Clover. It was too cold to be waiting outside, especially in the morning. Qrow was too eager to be doing much else, so he stared at the elevator, waiting for his date to pop out, which happened soon after he sat down. With a ding, the elevator doors opened and revealed Clover. He was wearing light grey pants that were tucked into black boots, and a green sweater vest that was textured with an interweaving pattern. The sweater vest, which had his signature pin tacked on, was a surprise, but the real kicker was that Clover only wore a white collared tank top underneath, with the collar flipped up and open, rather than folded flat and closed. And of course, this left his arms showing, with his red handkerchief showing on one arm.

Qrow wasn’t sure what he expected Clover to wear, but it wasn’t an outfit like that. The pants and boots were normal enough, but the top was just questionable. Normally, he would have been heavily judging the outfit, but Clover somehow made it work. Qrow had almost felt ashamed for finding it hot. If Summer were here, she would have had to hold back a laugh because the outfit was ridiculous and Qrow was ridiculous for finding the simple outfit hot.

“Hey there hot stuff.” said Clover as he exited the elevator. All Qrow could do was stare at Clover, his mind dissonant because he couldn’t decide if he liked the outfit or not. But, the more he looked, the more he liked it, though that just could have been because Clover was wearing the outfit. Oh the things people do for love. “Based on your reaction, I guess I’m hot stuff too.” Clover gave Qrow a kiss on the cheek, which managed to bring Qrow back to reality.

“Sorry, I just realized that it's my first time seeing you in a normal outfit. It looks pretty good on you. Besides, its definitely a lot better than the outfit of some snobby Atlesian.”

“Ha! At least someone can appreciate my fashion sense.” Clover told him half jokingly, with his arm around Qrow’s as they walked to the taxi. “Seriously, you have no idea how often I get told I have a terrible sense of fashion.” As they got to the taxi, Clover opened the door for Qrow with an “After you.” and bow. Clover could see a light blush rising in his love’s face.

“You know just how to make a guy feel special, don't you?”

“Only for the best.” Of course, Clover winked. As he was getting in, he noticed that Qrow’s lap looked very enticing. He could see himself  sitting in Qrow’s lap, one leg over the other and his arms wrapped around Qrow who would be adorably flustered. But, decided that a car probably wasn’t the best place to do that.

“Clover? Can I talk to you, from one ten to another?” Qrow asked once they settled down.

“You’re an eleven, but yes, you can.” Qrow wondered how Clover could possibly be so smooth.

“Okay, we're both hot, and I’m at least conventionally fashionable, right?”

“Right.” Clover responded.

“So, I’m curious, why that outfit?”

“Hmm… If I’m being honest, its the most formal clothing I have, besides my uniform. A sweater vest is the most formal I can get while still not wearing sleeves. Ugh.”

“What do you have against sleeves, lucky charm?” Qrow made sure to put emphasis on his sleeves. Seeing Clover laugh at the display made him laugh as well.

“If you must know my dark history with sleeves, its that I find them too constricting.”

“Damn, I wonder why.” He noticed that Qrow was looking at his arms.

“Don't patronize them Qrow. They've got a sleeve count higher than your grimm count. Before the end of my first week in the academy, none of my shirts had sleeves.” Clover gave a jokingly wistful look, as if he mourned the sleeves. Qrow hates Atlas, and couldn’t have been paid to attend its academy, but if he were forced to, he imagines it would have at least been somewhat tolerable if he were with Clover.

“And here I thought my fashion mishap during my first week at Beacon was bad.” Qrow silently cursed the can of worms he had opened, and by the look on Clover’s face, his expression had shown his regret. For a moment, they were silent.

“... So, you gonna tell me what it was?” Clover asked. Qrow kept his head facing forward, cause he knew that if he turned to face Clover, he could not resist giving in. However, Clover was too strong, and Qrow gave in, looked at his cute face, and sighed.

“Alright, alright, you win. My sister tricked me into thinking that skirts were a part of the uniform for everyone, so I was stuck with only skirts to wear for my first week.” Qrow expects to hear a laugh, but doesn’t.

“That must have been quite the sight. Makes me wish I went to Beacon instead.” And of course, Qrow noticed Clover eyeing his legs, though Qrow certainly didn't mind. Before they could continue their conversation, the vehicle came to a stop and their driver alerted them that they reached their destination. Qrow quickly got out as Clover got out his wallet to give the driver a tip. He appeared on the other side of the car and opened the door for Clover.

“You know just how to make a guy feel special, don't you?”

“Only for the best.” said Qrow with a wink of his own. It warmed his heart to make Clover blush and laugh a little. Arm in arm, they walked towards the entrance of the restaurant. Once inside, Qrow remembered all the stuff Weiss had told him, and he was filled with dread. Clover immediately picked up on this and asked what was wrong.

“Weiss told me about this place, and it sounded harsh.” Qrow could feel himself beginning to sweat.

“Oh, about the dress code and wait list and all that? Yeah, I don't have to worry about that. I saved the owner’s children from a grimm some time ago. They let me make a reservation the day before and bypass the dress code. I also get fifty percent off the food. Lucky me huh? Oh, and don’t worry about being in all … that.” he said, motioning to all the snobbish Atlesians. “I got us a private booth.”

“Ooo, lucky us.” They both laughed.

“Reservation for Ebi, Clover.” he told the receptionist.

“Ah, yes. You again.” His words held the slightest bit of disgust. “Please take a seat, we will call you shortly.” Clover, ignoring the receptionist's distaste, noticed that there was only one seat available, and immediately hatched a clever play.

“You can take the chair Qrow.”

“What about you?” Qrow asked, unaware of the other man’s plan.

“I’ll be fine. If I’m lucky, a seat will open up soon for me.” Qrow only gave a chuckle as he took the seat. A moment after he sat, Clover said “Found one.” and proceeded to sit right in Qrow’s lap. Just as planned, Qrow short-circuited into a blushing mess. He was quick to recover his mind, but there was nothing he could do about the blush. “Oh! I’m sorry. Is this seat taken?” He asked as he patted one of Qrow’s thighs as if it were an empty seat.

“I was saving it for my boyfriend, but I guess you’ll do.” Qrow replied, trying to hide his embarrassment but unable to.

“You have a boyfriend? He must be a very lucky guy to have a man like you.”

“You could say that.”

“Your table is ready, sirs.” the receptionist made no effort to hide how done he was. They both got up.

“Looks like my date isn’t here yet. Wanna join me instead baby?” And in an act of revenge, he winked. Now it was Clover’s turn to try to hide a blush. Qrow was out for blood, and his weapon was pet names. Regardless, Clover tried to still act cool as they followed their waiter to their table.

“How could I say no no a face like that. I feel bad for the unlucky guy that didn’t show up.” He managed to get Qrow to laugh again. He wouldn’t trade the little moments like those for the world. As they walked and talked, they noticed people turning their heads to stare at the two men who stood out so much.  Soon, they were at the back of the dimly lit restaurant where there was a booth that had a thick purple silk curtain for privacy. Inside was a decently sized round table with a lit candle in the center that gave off an almost divine scent. The curved seating allowed them to sit next to each other. The waiter left them with their menus and gave them a device to notify the waiter when they were ready.

“So, Clover, you’ve been here before. What’s good?”

“Literally everything Qrow. This place is six out of five stars. They even serve just about anything, as long its classy or exotic. That’s why this place is called The City of Commerce. They have all kinds of foods from all over Remnant, though the embargo has made things a bit tougher to get, this place manages somehow. I think they stockpile stuff, or grow it all themselves somewhere around here.”

“Or maybe they smuggle it.”

“That’s a possibility.”

“What do you usually get?”

“Fish, though I try to try a different kind each time.”

“Hmm, I think I’ll try the … I can't even pronounce this, but It looks good.”

“Oh gods I’m not even going to try either. It does look good though.” They both continued to search and read through their menu, showing each other some mouth-watering food that looked like it was made by the gods. Eventually, Qrow reached the desserts, and was left in awe of a certain dish.

“By the brothers...”

“What is it?” Clover questioned, intrigued by what could prompt such a response.

“Is it bad if I have dessert for breakfast?” Qrow asked, still staring at the menu in awe.

“I’m not gonna judge you. I would come alone to the most expensive restaurant in the world just to have some fish. Besides, it’s our day off. We should have some fun.” Qrow still hadn’t looked up from the menu. “You know what?” Clover shut his menu. “I’ll have what you're having.” Clover activated the device and gave the waiter, who appeared almost instantly, their order “What is it anyways?” Qrow flipped his menu, which the waiter let them keep in case they wanted anything more, over to show him. It looked kind of like a fancy layered dark chocolate cake and nothing more.  

“It’s made from a rare plant that’s only in season for a few months every few years. It’s not like anything you’ve ever tasted before. I think you’ll like it.”

“Color me intrigued. It certainly looks good.” Cloer hoped that he would like it. It was rare to see Qrow so excited over something, so he didn’t want to disappoint him

“Oh, you're gonna love it. If there’s anything good that came out of that tribe, it’s that dessert.”

“And you.” Clover reminded him. If someone had told Clover that he was going to fall in love with the greatest huntsman alive and go on an actual date with him, he would tell that person that he wasn’t that lucky. Yet, here he was, and Clover couldn’t be more grateful to be loved by the great Qrow Branwen.

“Alright, and me.” Qrow had to admit that Clover’s constant insisting that he was a great man was working on him. He did feel really good. After chatting, laughing, sipping on their drinks, and eating the complementary biscuits, their order finally arrived.

“It looks even better in person.”

“It’ll taste even better than it looks. Take a bite! I wanna see your face when you try it!” Qrow was visibly excited to share one of the few good parts of his past with Clover.

“Don’t worry, I am.” Clover got his fork and took a piece of the moist slice. Immediately, his eyes widened. He swallowed the piece and told Qrow “Oh my gods this is so good.” He immediately took another bite, savoring the flavor and texture this time. He looked at Qrow as he took his first bite of the slice of cake. “Is it as good as you remember?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, definitely. Maybe even better.”

“Lucky you, huh?” Qrow replied with a small laugh. They continued to enjoy being in each other’s presence as they ate. However, Clover noticed a wistful look on Qrow’s face. “What’s wrong Qrow?”

“Hmm? Oh, nothing. This old bird is just being sentimental.” Qrow said as he looked down at the cake slice.

“Want to talk about it?” Clover asked as he took another bite.

“I was just thinking about when I was in the tribe. Looking back, it was pretty bad, but it wasn’t all bad, you know. I guess I just miss the small things like this, back when me and Raven were younger and close. But, that’s all in the past. I’ve got better things now, like the kids, you, … this cake.”

“Aww, Qrow.” Clover knew that he shouldn't be surprised that Qrow thought so well of him, all things considered, but he was still caught off guard. Sure, he had received tons of compliments before, but they were superficial more often than not. However, this complement was very genuine, and from the man he could say with confidence that he loved.

“Don’t be going soft on me now Lucky Charm.”

“I think I can afford to be a little soft when I’m on a date with my boyfriend.”

“Hmph, if you say so.” Qrow replied, his own expression also soft.

“But, speaking of cake, how about we see if we can get a full cake to take back with us. We can share it with the kids, and make some new memories.”

“That … sounds nice. I’d like that.” Qrow noticed that Clover was lovingly gazing at him, obviously enamored. Qrow knew that he wasn’t a lucky man, but if the universe had ever given him any compensation for his bad luck, he knew that it was Clover. “Hey, Clover?”

“Yes?” he responded. His head on one of his hands as he still stared lovingly at his boyfriend.

“I just want to say thanks. For all these past months. You’ve helped me out a lot, and stuff. So, uh, thanks. Again.” Before Clover could respond, Qrow moved in for a kiss on the lips. It was not a short kiss, nor a long one, but it was still intimate nonetheless. “Love you.” Qrow could see that Clover was somewhat surprised. “I’m not the best with words, so-” He was cut off by Clover gently pulling him in closer for a slower, longer, and passionate kiss.

“I love you too Qrow.”

#fairgameweek2020 #fair game #Qrow Branwen #Clover Ebi #RWBY

[kitsunebaba]

Just a Little Change

Rei stared down at the body at his feet, the butt end of his dagger still raised from the strike. Ryu stared at him in shock, gaze slowly drifting down to focus on Teepo's unconscious form. He wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed it but his brothers had been so focused on one another and Rei had seen the opening and before he could really think it through, he was moving.

 And now Teepo was out cold on the grass.

"Oh good thinking Rei!" Nina exclaimed, the first one to move. She went straight for the pack on Ryu's back muttering "rope, rope," to herself.

 Everyone else seemed to jump out of their stupors, with Nina breaking the silence: Momo riffling through Teepo's pockets, Garr interjecting the best way to restrain one of the brood. Rei couldn't quite follow the conversation, his ears still ringing from this whole mess of a situation. For years he'd been consumed by nothing but revenge and now to find that not just one, but both of his brothers were...

 Teepo was alive... Teepo was alive!

 A grin was slowly stretching its way across his face and when he looked down at where Ryu was fixing Nina's knots, he saw a smaller but just as bright smile on his face, too.

 Rei wasn't quite stupid enough to think this was going to be easy. Whoever this God was, they'd really done a number on Teepo's outlook. All that nonsense about the brood, his self righteous attitude. Teepo had never been particularly kind, but this just wasn't who he was meant to be.

 Well, whatever he'd thought of this pilgrimage before, it was personal now. No one did something like this to his family and got away with it. No one.

 With Teepo wrapped head to toe in rope, Rei hefted his little brother over his shoulder and on they went. On to meet God.

 ---

 Teepo didn't wake up until after God was dead and they'd escaped to the desert.

 Garr had finally found his peace and they'd lost track of Peco in all the chaos of their escape. Their victory was bittersweet at best but that was just how vengeance tasted, he'd learned. Rei wouldn't kid himself into thinking his own participation was anything but. Ryu was the selfless one in the family.

 There was a gasp to Rei's side, a groan and instantly he was kneeling to turn Teepo over. His brother squinted against the harsh desert sunlight and Rei shifted to shadow his face.

 "That was a dirty trick," Teepo murmured, voice deeper than before but cadence much closer to what Rei remembered. Then Teepo tried to move his arms and froze. Eyes narrowed and flicked intensely to his with so much venom it made Rei's heart jolt.

 "You dare-?" Teepo hissed and his teeth were already extending, his skin turning purple, scaly, face elongating.

 Before Rei could so much as move, Ryu was there, sitting down hard on Teepo's chest. It knocked the wind out of him, the shock enough to stop the transformation. They glared at one another, two obscenely powerful beings vying for dominance.

 Teepo looked away first.

 Huffing, Teepo glared at the sand instead. "So you bested me and removed me from my sanctuary. Does the safety of the world mean nothing to you? Our God Myria has-"

 "We chose freedom," Ryu murmured, interrupting.

 Those words confused Teepo more than anything and he cast his gaze around to the others, as if they had the answers, as if he'd forgotten how to read Ryu and everything he didn't say.

 "He's saying we killed your God," Rei couldn't help but clarify. It was petty and not worth the devastated way Teepo's face fell. His brother's breath caught and, alarmingly, his eyes began to well with tears.

 "Myria is...?" his words were barely sound.

 "Yes, I'm sorry," Nina replied when no one else did.

 Rei couldn't watch the clear grief on Teepo's face but nor could he hide from the sounds, all the more heartbreaking for their restraint. Small sniffles and whispered denial. Each one struck home in Rei's chest until he felt ill. He couldn't regret what he'd done but there was always a price and once again it was Teepo who had to pay it. Yet another way Rei had failed.

 There was no giving up this time, though. Rei had people to fight for again and he wasn't letting them go without one.

 ---

 They almost lost him on their way to the oasis.

 Teepo had refused to eat or drink. Occasionally they could get some water down his throat, with Ryu coaxing or Momo forcing but that hadn't stopped his lips from cracking or his cheeks hollowing out. They couldn't afford to untie him, either. When Teepo wasn't catatonic with grief, he ranted.

 Rei was ashamed to say he left Teepo to Ryu when he got like that. There was something stalwart to Ryu that Rei could never even hope to emulate, so he didn't even try. To Teepo's threats, his fanatical recitation of God's rhetoric, Ryu kept a straight face, silently stoic as he held his brother down and waited it out.

 By the time they reached the oasis, Teepo hadn't woken in at least a day and his breathing had begun to get laboured. They couldn't just leave him with the head man's wife like they had with Nina, either. That first night, they'd all been exhausted. Ryu had taken first watch regardless, making sure no one was hurt in Teepo's lucid moments as he was tended to.

 Eventually, though, even Ryu couldn't keep his eyes open.

 A shout woke them all, then a scream and they all clambered to their feet in alarm. Rei could feel his rabid side start to stir, eager for a fight, but pushed it down. The head woman had scrambled backwards, Ryu trying to hold back a struggling Teepo, free from his bonds.

 Unable to think of anything else, Rei punched Teepo in the face and his brother slumped in Ryu's arms, his form shrinking, changing until he was a tiny, purple dragon. The look of disappointment that Ryu gave him for that made him want to shrivel to the size of a mouse and hide for the rest of eternity.

 They got Teepo back into bed, tied to the posts, and Ryu went to sit back down at his side.

 Rei didn't let him. He finally had to admit to himself that he'd been avoiding this new, heartbreakingly unfamiliar Teepo. Rei had promised himself there was no giving up, yet he'd almost done so to spare himself more hurt. So Rei swept Ryu into his arms and lay him down gently along Teepo's winged side, then took up the chair himself.

 It was one of the longest nights of his life, watching his brothers sleep on that bed, one struggling, again, to hold onto life. When morning came, his eyes itched with tiredness and his muscles screamed from sitting for too long, but Teepo was once again in human form and Ryu smiled at him and that made it all worth it.

 ---

 Teepo started eating again, a few days later. It had taken many, many hours of nagging and begging and pleading (and a few guilt wrenching tears from Ryu) but they'd managed to convince him to continue to live, at the very least. While his brother's ranting had stopped, along with his attempts to escape, he hadn't started speaking normally again, either, or at all.

 Instead, Ryu talked. It was more than Rei thought he'd ever heard him say in his entire life, let alone at one time. He spoke of their journey, their lives, why he'd come to the decision he had. Ryu talked himself hoarse and then some until Rei took up the slack. There was only so much he knew, so much he'd been there for, but he could reminisce on their time together, at least.

 Rei spoke of their lives before Ryu, reminders of the people they'd been, the ways they'd changed after they'd adopted their third family member. That one, near perfect winter and early spring where they'd been accepted, well fed, happy. That one season of bliss before everything had fallen apart.

 And then Rei confessed how he'd gone off the rails in his quest for revenge. How devastated he'd been to lose his brothers to one mistake.

 Teepo listened, at least, even if he never said anything in reply. He listened and Rei hoped he was taking it all in, considering their perspectives instead of clinging to a dead god's dogma.

 ---

 Once they were all well enough to walk, about a week later, they resupplied and made their way north. They didn't need the ropes by this point. Teepo was silent and submissive, following along when asked.

 It was Momo who tried to strike up a conversation this time, as they made their way through the debris of old technology. She asked a stream of questions about Eden and the space station, though the whole thing went over Rei's head. Teepo watched her, wary, but he must have understood because once she was done with her rambling hypothesis he either nodded or shook his head. One time Rei swore he heard a response but it could have been his imagination.

 A few trips by Portal Drive later and they were emerging from the hut hear Mount Levett. Why they'd gone here, he wasn't sure. This whole place left a bad taste in his mouth, memories blurred from spending such long periods transformed but certain moments horrifically vivid.

 "I... um, don't want to go home yet," Nina offered when he asked.

 It was understandable. The prospect of possibly being confined to one place for your whole life... Rei wasn't sure he could do it. Certainly after the trick they'd played on the king and queen, she wouldn't be allowed to leave for a good long while, even if they didn't just lock her in her room.

 There were other reasons she didn't want to go home. Nina still had to work out what she would fight for now. At least Rei didn't have that problem anymore.

 Down the path towards the Yraall Region, they reached the road in good time. Across the bridge and they quickly came to the edge of the farmland that marked the area. A sense of unease passed over Rei the closer they got to the place they used to call home. The girls sensed it, too and the whole party remained subdued as they trekked. It was by far the easiest terrain they'd navigated in months but the tension in the air ruined any relief.

 It was at the junction where the Yraall Road split towards McNeil Village that it happened.

 Nina screamed as Teepo shoved her back and in an explosion of power he transformed. Momo was already aiming her weapon as he spread his wings, taking to the air. Rei jumped forwards to push the bazooka towards the ground and they were both flung backwards as it went off.

 Rei picked himself up with a groan, grumbling a few choice swear words. It took a few moments to get all his senses back in alignment and by the time he had, Ryu had transformed too, staring at him, waiting.

 The dragon tilted his head, indicating his back and Rei didn't have to be told twice. Scrambling to his feet, he didn't even consider what he was about to do until he felt muscles lurch below him and the ground began to lift away. Rei's eyes widened and he wrapped his arms in a vice lock around his brother's neck.

 They shuddered and shook as they climbed altitude and Rei had to wonder how they weren't just dropping out of the sky. At last, though, they evened out. The turbulence stopped. Wind still whipped about his ears, pulling at his clothes and tail, but slowly he pried one eye open to look down at the ground below.

 It was like a patchwork quilt he'd seen some of the women in town making; all greens and browns with the occasional patch of colour. He couldn't see any people, though with the roars he could hear in the distance, it wouldn't be a surprise if they'd all sought shelter.

 With a jolt of surprise Rei found himself able to pick out landmarks. There was the farm near town, the village itself not too far off, McNeil manner. Already they'd travelled what would have taken hours on foot. He watched as it all passed below them, turning into the forests he'd once known like the back of his hand. A glimpse of Bunyan's hut, the mountain close by, then they were descending and Rei had to bury his face in Ryu's neck again or risk being sick.

 When they landed, Ryu shrank back into his human form, collapsing to his knees, breathing rapid. Rei rested a comforting hand on his shoulder for a moment, long enough to know he was okay, then he was moving again.

 Teepo stood at the base of the burned shell of their hut. The smell of ash and smoke had long since been washed away but Rei could still remember them, phantom scents in his nose. He came to a stop three steps behind his brother, staring up at what remained of their home.

 "Sometimes I was half convinced this was just a dream... but then that would mean you had simply abandoned me."

 "What?! I would never-!" Rei cut himself off, nails cutting into his palms with the effort.

 Teepo shook his head, "no. You're petty and self severing like everyone else, but you wouldn't do something like that."

 They were quite for a while, lost in their own memories.

 "You know, Ryu said he looked for you after," Rei gestured vaguely at the burned building. "Me? I just assumed you were dead and went off to get revenge but... He went all the way to Wyndia. Would have gone further, I think, if he hadn't been caught up in all that Brood shyte."

 Teepo frowned. "Wyndia...?" The frown deepened and he crossed his arms. "I... perhaps I reached it? I remember being hungry and stone walls. It wasn't long before Myria saved me, gave me a home, clothes, food, love."

 "If you'll remember, so did I. And I didn't lock you in a damn cage and feed you self hate for ten years," Rei growled.

 "Myria has good reason to think the way she does... did..." Teepo turned his face away, swallowing thickly before he continued. "How many people died for Ryu's cause? Just defeating her you lost two of your number. Can that be justified?"

 Rei snorted, "oh, so when she kills thousands of people, it's for the good of everyone, but when a few people sacrifice their lives willingly, it's not justified? Well don't that just beat all. And here I thought we had numbers on our side."

 "We are dangerous!" Teepo spun, one fist raised threateningly but Ryu was already situating himself between them, a hand on each of their chests to keep them apart. He still looked worn out from carrying someone on his back, using muscles he wasn't used to for so long, but the colour had returned to his cheeks and he wasn't winded any longer.

 "So am I," Rei countered, sounding much calmer than he felt. "Sure I don't hold a candle to you guys but I slaughtered an entire crime syndicate in cold blood. It was easy. Should I be put under lock and key?"

 Teepo scowled, "yes."

 "Okay, so what of God's Guardians then? I know for a fact that Garr alone killed, what was it, Ryu?"

 "Two hundred and ninety nine," Ryu replied softly.

 "Two hundred and ninety nine Brood members during the war. That's way more than a measly crime syndicate, I'd say. And he only did it because he was told to, not because they killed his family or something."

 "That was God's power-"

 "So should God be locked up then? Why is her power okay but yours isn't? What gave her the right to dictate what we can and cannot do? Who lives and who dies? Since when is genocide something the good guys do?!" Rei snarled, breaking away from Ryu's restraining hand to pace, prowling the path.

 Teepo rose to his full height, clearly trying to look regal. "She saved the world."

 "Does it look destroyed to you? Has Ryu gone on some monstrous rampage and killed everyone? Blown up any mountains lately? Because let me tell you, he's had the motives. Half of this crap isn't even what he wanted, he was just dragged along because he was being hunted or someone else wanted to know the truth! He lost us, he lost friends, he lost years of his life and he's never destroyed anything that wasn't asking for it!"

 "And what if I do?!" Teepo screamed. "What if I... I hate everyone. I hate what the world did to us! I hate how petty people are, how self serving, how no one will ever share just because they... No one ever deserved what Myria did for us, not even me!"

 The silence in the clearing could have been cut with a knife.

 "What if I'm the one who destroys the world?"

 "You won't," Ryu said, clear and confident, "because we won't let you." Slowly, like he was touching a wild animal, Ryu lowered his hands to clasp one of Teepo's gently between them. "Just like you won't let me."

 For a long moment it seemed like Teepo would pull away, whole body tense. Then he slumped, head bowed. "Is it that easy? I don't want to be around people. I don't want to go back to a society that would let children, orphans just- just starve. I don't want to-"

 Rei let his hand fall heavily on Teepo's shoulder. "So we live in the woods, away from everyone else. Heck, that's pretty much what we did here before Ryu came along, just without all the stealing. Maybe we try grow our own food or something? We got friends and resources that we didn't have as kids, yeah?"

 Teepo's gaze was unreadable as he looked from Ryu to Rei.  

 "Not here," he said at last, raising his free hand to rest on top of Rei's. "Not here."

 ---

 They met Nina and Momo back in McNeil Village but didn't do more than pass through after joining back up. The frightened rumours of dragons in the sky effected both his brothers negatively and Rei had to suppress the urge to take his rage out on the villagers, too. They'd never wanted help, but they'd been children. Someone should have given it regardless.

 Nina didn't try to pry like Rei had expected. One look from Ryu and she looked more relieved than anything. It was odd, seeing someone else able to read his brother so well but slowly Rei was coming to see Nina as family, too, and well maybe they needed a little sister to balance them out.

 Reluctantly he had to admit that Momo felt like family, too, but that was dysfunctional at best. Not all family could be sunshine and roses, he'd learned. Well, one out of four wasn't so bad.

 Conversation picked up when Rei voiced their intentions some time later. Nina was eager to offer locations and Momo building advice. She'd had to fix her own equipment often enough that she was handy with a hammer or a welding torch. After all, if they built with metal and brick, they couldn't be as easily burned out of the home again.

 The process wasn't as difficult as he thought it might be. The forests surrounding Wyndia were vast, so before they parted ways with Nina and Momo they all ventured into them to find a good spot to build. Officially this would be Nina's vacation cottage, since the forests were technically royal hunting grounds. Hopefully they were deep enough that no one ever noticed they were there in the first place.

 Momo threw herself into the building with as much enthusiasm as she did new machines. Confusingly enough, after the initial distrust, Teepo and Momo ended up getting along well. She was oblivious enough she didn't notice the way he talked down to her and he was knowledgeable enough in machinery that she was endlessly pumping him for details that he was now willing to give.

 Nina, for her part, could only come by extremely occasionally. The king and queen hadn't locked her in her room but she was under strict guard whenever she argued an outing was legitimate. Slowly she was amassing a following of soldiers more loyal to her than her parents, however, and sometimes she could slip away.

 When they were finally done, Momo and Nina had tentative permission to visit on occasion, though Rei could see Teepo only agreed with Nina doing so because Ryu always looked so sad when she left. It probably helped that she was their main source of supplies and Teepo could easily use that as an excuse if anyone ever confronted him on it. He'd always been unwilling to admit how soft he was where his brothers were concerned.

 Rei mused on Nina's situation and how he'd thought he didn't ever want to be confined. Funny, how he didn't feel like he was locked away staying here, even though technically they were. Perhaps it was the self imposed nature of it... though Rei would put more zenny on his brothers having something to do with it.

 They had to be careful with hunting in the area but they had a neat little vegetable garden going by now and a book on pickling to get them through the winter. Nina had even visited bearing some fruit tree saplings yesterday. Rei had left his brothers to plant them while he'd gone to find them some meat to celebrate.

 Coming home, Rei heard them before he could see them.

 "Ryu that's not how you dig a hole. No you have to- No use your- Oh, just give it here!"

 Holding back his mirth, Rei rounded the corner of their house to see Teepo instructing Ryu on the proper technique for digging a hole, complete with demonstration and short, sharp directions.

 Rei caught Ryu's eyes and his youngest brother flushed. Then Rei noticed there were quite a few holes already done, perfectly created, and couldn't quite hide his amused smirk as Ryu once again failed to dig a hole in the most dramatic way possible. Teepo promptly snatched the shovel back again and dug two more holes. They'd have too many at this rate.

 Dropping the rabbits he'd caught by the house, he strode forwards to clap a hand down on top of each of their heads, grinning ear to ear. "I may not be very good at math but even I can see we have eight fruit trees and seven holes." Grabbing the spade himself, he dug the last one quickly, before anything could escalate. It was a little sloppy but deep enough that Teepo only scowled a little at it. He didn't even try to fix it when Rei handed the spade back.

 Ryu moved off to start putting the saplings in the ground and Teepo only looked alarmed for a moment before he realised Ryu was doing this part right, at least.

 Turning back to Rei, he said, "I see you're getting bolder with your kills."

 "Their Royal Pains In The Butts aren't going to notice a few less rabbits in spring, Teepo."

 "Early Spring."

 Rei waved off the concern. "Whatever. I think we got enough tomatoes for a stew, at least. Momo better bring us more spices when she comes next. I got used to fancier food on the road than we ever had as kids. Who knew salt could do so much to a hunk of meat."

 "You're getting careless. If we're-"

 "Relax, Teepo."

 Teepo scowled but they lapsed into silence, watching Ryu move from plant to plant, carefully placing them in the ground. For someone with the power to literally destroy the world if he wanted to, Ryu was the gentlest soul he'd ever met. Even plants were treated tenderly.

 "Do you still think he's dangerous?" Rei asked softly.

 Teepo watched Ryu as he answered with a shake of his head. "I don't think I ever did... not really. The kid that cries at the drop of a hat? With too much empathy for his own good. That's not someone who wants power."

 "But...?"

 Teepo sighed, "but I still don't trust myself. All I've had time to do is think and I know who I am. I don't want to leave, but I don't want to keep him here, either. If he wants to go..."

 "And what if he wants to stay?" Rei murmured.

 Ryu looked up from his work and waved, Rei waved back with Teepo reluctantly doing so too a few seconds later. The grin on their youngest brother's face was heartbreakingly bright.

 "All he ever wanted, was be with his family, and that's us, Teepo. Ain't no way you can change that." He swung an arm around Teepo's shoulder, drawing him in close. "Maybe one day we let him go, yeah? But he's gonna come back. No matter where he goes without us, he'll always wind up back here sooner or later with a new story and some new friends. Probably a few new scars the way trouble finds him."

 "Then maybe we need to go with him to protect him..."

 "If we ever do, I'm sure we can go wherever you want..." Rei replied, giving him a squeeze.

 "...Except Wyndia. We're wanted criminals there."

 "You're what?!" Teepo squawked.

 From where he was planting, Ryu looked up to watch Teepo chase Rei across the clearing and smiled.

#bof3 #breath of fire iii #fix it fic #I wrote this for you sama because you had to break my heart with that last bit of writing #just knock the boi out and take him with #problem part way solved

[danganronpa-21]

Meet the Fankids!

It’s about time that I made a blog like this. Seriously, I’ve had these fankids for so long and I’ve never introduced them as a full group before? Preposterous! That had to change, and so it has. Here’s a full list of all of the fankids present in Danganronpa 21 -- complete with appearances, personalities, likes and dislikes, hobbies, fatal flaws, dreams, and other random details like blood type.

Happy reading!

Hope Naegi-Kirigiri: 

The eldest daughter of Makoto and Kyoko Naegi-Kirigiri, standing at 16 years old (April 9th, 2020). She holds the talent of the Super High School Level Costume Designer, and holds positions both on Hope’s Peak Cheerleading Team and on their Student Council. She is 5′6 and boasts 118 lbs, and has AB blood. She is of Japanese descent. Her affiliations include Hope’s Peak Academy and the Kirigiri Detective Clan, though she is notably not the heir.

At sixteen years old, Hope is already widely believed to be living up to her namesake. Cheerful, bubbly, and caring; Hope is a girl who is greatly admired by many for her charm and grace. Those who admire her would say that she’s always ready for adventure and fears nothing, but she herself would tell you that that’s a stretching of the truth. And those who dislike her would tell you a completely different story. They would tell you that she is childish and overly fanatical, to the point of letting it consume her very being. Others might tell you that she’s stubborn and constantly refuses to see when bad things are happening right in front of her. The one you’d probably hear the most is that she’s headstrong, for someone who tattles on others when they break the rules. And in a way, all of them are true, although she would insist that those traits are probably not as bad as they seem.

Some of Hope’s favourite things in the world are mystery novels, animals (especially dogs), pop music, make-up, her family, and craft projects. Her hobbies include costume design, theatre, cosplay, photography, playing video games, reading novels, and helping her younger sister out with mystery solving. Otherwise, Hope tends to dislike foul language, being called ‘bossy’ by her peers and being underestimated overall, her mother’s cooking, her great-grandfather, and generally anyone who has the audacity to disrespect her baby siblings. 

Hope is someone with many goals in life. She hopes to have a successful career in the costume design industry. If she cannot do that, she would like to succeed her father as Headmistress of Hope’s Peak Academy. She is also incredibly passionate about nurturing the world around her, and ensuring that people blossom to their full potential. So much so that she is certain that she’d like to have children some day, too. Her one major shortcoming that will likely get in the way of her life goals is that of her pride. She is often too proud to admit when she’s made a mistake or had any sort of shortcoming, which will hinder her in her journey if she’s not careful. 

She will be the second protagonist in the Danganronpa 21 series.

Sakura Asahina: 

The adoptive daughter of Aoi Asahina, standing at 16 years old (November 17th, 2020). She holds the title of the Super High School Level White Water Rafter, and is the manager of the Hope’s Peak Academy Swim Team. She is 6′0 and 150 lbs, and has Type O blood. She is Japanese according to immigration, but her actual background is unknown. She is a student at Hope’s Peak Academy, as well as a waitress at the Sakuhina Cafe.

Sakura is the primary example of looks can be deceiving. Though she is a tall and buff-looking girl, she’s the walliest wallflower there ever was. She is highly shy when it comes to new people, and tends to stick to smaller social groups (which often leads her to spend time with Leon and Hope exclusively). Still, don’t let this gentle heart fool you. Apart from her reluctance to socialize, she also has a personality of her own. She is adventurous and compassionate, and has been described by others as dependable at any and all times. The kind of girl you go to when you have a problem and need help. She’s not a girl with a particular temper, and tends to be sort of dreamy-minded. The sort of person who believes wholeheartedly in the goodness of the people around her. If you manage to capture a spot in her heart, she will be as gentle and generous with you as possible -- granting you almost all of her attention. Still, Sakura is no manic pixie dream girl. Much like her mother, she is impatient and tends to jump to conclusions. These conclusions can often lead her to being oversensitive and emotional, and creating big, unnecessary reactions to small things. She is notably also socially awkward, and tends to worry about every detail of her social interactions... sometimes to the point of making herself ill. 

Among her list of favourite things is donuts, rabbits, physical activities, the sauna, fresh fruit, her mother’s cooking, and matchmaking TV shows. In terms of hobbies, she loves to bake, binge-watch TV shows with her mother, swim, babysit, quilt, jump rope, and white water raft. She also has a fondness for caring for plants. On the other side of things, what Sakura hates most in life is the fact that some people fear her. That, and a slew of other things. Yelling and loud noises, when others neglect their responsibilities, neglecting proper nutrition, dressing up formally, tofu, back aches, and shoulder tension. She also seems rather displeased at the amount of boys who don’t seem particularly interested in pursuing her romantically... not that she’d know what to say to them if they did choose to pursue her.

Sakura is unsure of what she wants to do with her future. She thinks she would like to continue with her talent; perhaps working with a team to lead them to victory. Unfortunately, her sport isn’t in the Olympics just yet. Otherwise, she thinks she might take over the Sakuhina Cafe if Aoi will allow her to do so. Or maybe be a social worker! She hasn’t decided yet, but likes having the options. She also dreams of getting married some day, but still struggles to talk to boys her age. Her biggest flaw in getting what she wants stems from the fact that she is emotionally vulnerable, and thus more prone to hurt and manipulation. 

She will be the sixth protagonist in the Danganronpa 21 series.

Leon Hagakure: 

The son and eldest child of Kanon and Yasuhiro Hagakure, standing at 17 years of age (January 8th, 2020). He holds no ultimate title nor any exciting extracurriculars, but he does have a great interest in music mixing and DJ work. He is 6′0 and 151 lbs, and has Type A blood. He is of Japanese nationality, but is a quarter Jamaican from his father’s side. His affiliations start and end with Hope’s Peak Academy. 

The number one thing Leon might tell you about his personality is that he tends to wear people out on occasion. Not because he’s an overbearing person or anything, but mostly because being Kanon and Yasuhiro’s son has made him into a very weird person. At his best, Leon can be described as a laid-back, yet energetic young man. He is overall good-humoured and generally idealistic in comparison to his peers, albeit a little more naive than them, too. He struggles with knowing when to take things personally. In spite of what people might believe about him, though, he actually inherited Kanon’s courage and cleverness. The boy is much brighter than most tend to give him credit for. Likely because it is overshadowed by his larger flaws, such as his laziness and disorganization. His idealism frequently leads him to have unrealistic expectations of people, and also produces a lot of ideas that just cannot work in the real world. Not to mention that he’s just flatout irresponsible when it comes to just about everything. The only point in which he shows some competency in being responsible is when it comes to his baby sister, Kameyo.

Leon’s favourite things include manga, dubstep music, electric guitar, wasabeef flavoured chips, the scent of vanilla, and aliens. In terms of hobbies, he likes to mix music, play soccer, go mountain biking or hiking, doodling, calligraphy, playing baseball, playing video games, and wood carving. Alternatively, he notoriously hates homework, nagging, classic novels, whale meat, haircuts, and when his mother uses him as a test subject for make-up.

Leon isn’t someone who has a lot of direction. He’s a pretty good-with-the-flow guy. If he had a main goal to describe at the moment, it would probably be to graduate from high school. Maybe see if he could get a career in mixing music. If it’s not possible, he thinks he might like to become a teacher or a tour guide. Still, his major flaw in achieving those goals manifests mostly in the fact that he is lazy and lacks motivation.

He will be the ninth and final protagonist in the Danganronpa 21 series.

Koichi Naegi-Kirigiri: 

Makoto and Kyoko Naegi-Kirigiri’s son, standing at 15 years of age (February 5th, 2022). He holds no ultimate title, and currently boasts no extracurriculars at school. As apart of his Reserve Class Talent Study, he is choosing to study martial arts. He is 5′1 and 100 lbs, and has Type B blood. He is of Japanese nationality and background. His affiliations include Hope’s Peak Academy and the Kirigiri Detective Clan, and is notably not the heir... he was actually never considered for the position of heir at all.

The self-proclaimed “most normal” member of his family, Koichi would consider himself a relatively uninteresting boy. His main traits include being sarcastic, somewhat serious, and leaderly. He has never been the kind of kid who has lots of confidence in himself, and as such tends to be modest and self-critical. He sports a sort of sophisticated understanding of the world in spite of his young age, and traditionally tends to view the world a bit differently than those around him. Much deeper into his soul, though, there is much more of a nervous boy trying to hide. When it comes down to it, Koichi is caring and reliable, often willing to give all of himself when shown that someone is deserving. Still, this also makes him much more sensitive. A lot of the time, people would categorize Koichi actually as a huge crybaby, and thus rather brittle. In truth he holds a certain degree of strength, but is often overcome by his own insecurity and worry of what others think of him. He is desperate to please those around him, and secretly dreams of living up to his father’s legacy. 

Things that Koichi really loves include novels, ramen, manga, tea, being challenged, video games, his family, and penguins. His hobbies include martial arts (with him being able to manage aikido, taekwondo, ju jitsu, judo, and hapkido), skateboarding, language study, playing the piano, playing basketball, playing video games, and volunteering to help others in need. What he dislikes, though, can be brought to a list of excessive attention, doing the laundry, not being allowed individuality from his parents, lecturing, coriander, and those weirdos who drink milk straight out of the carton. 

Koichi isn’t sure what his goals in life are yet. He’s only a kid, after all. All he knows is that he’d like to graduate high school at some point. He doesn’t really know where he would like to take this whole martial arts thing, but figures he will pass it onto his children. You know, to continue the Uzuchi family legacy somehow. Really, though, Koichi’s biggest life goal is just to have an adventure. The trait that will get in his way? His recklessness and insecurity over uncertainty.

He is the first protagonist of the Danganronpa 21 series. 

Natsumi Kuzuryuu: 

The daughter of Peko and Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, currently 14 years old (August 16th, 2022). She holds the title of Super High School Level Fire Dancer, but makes no attempt at adding any extracurriculars. She is 4′11 and a measly 90 pounds, with Type A blood. She is of Japanese descent and nationality. Her affiliations include Hope’s Peak Academy, the Jabberwock Islanders, and the Kuzuryuu Gumi. She is notably the heir to the Kuzuryuu Clan, but after the traumas of the Tragedy, she and her family have stepped away from Yakuza work. When attending school, she utilizes the name Natsumi Kitagawa to protect her identity. 

If one thing can be said about Natsumi, it’s that she is absolutely Fuyuhiko’s daughter. At first, Natsumi projects herself as a boisterous and loud girl. She is ruthless, rude, and has an uncontrollable vocabulary of curse words. She is short-tempered and hot-headed; going as far as loving to get into fights with people just to watch them back down. She is aggressive and disorganized most of the time, and in spite of her family’s lack of real connection to the Yakuza anymore, she is still highly arrogant about being a rich heiress. A little too proud to be a Kuzuryuu, it seems. Deep down, though, she really means well. She is surprisingly patient with those who have earned her respect, as well as loyal to them until the very end. She may be rough around the edges, but truthfully Natsumi’s core is very soft. She is soft-hearted and highly romantic, as well as daring and freethinking. Justice is always the first thing on her mind, and she’ll fight for it no matter what. She loves people very deeply, and is always a shoulder to cry on for a friend in need.

Natsumi loves swords, flowers, any sort of wit, sour candy, seashells, and the smell of the ocean. Alternatively, she is not particularly fond of know-it-alls, her father’s lectures, the Island’s loneliness, and being criticized for her family’s past. For fun, she likes to craft weapons, garden, draw, play volleyball, mix drinks (mostly non-alcoholic... cause, you know, Fuyuhiko’s kid), and surf.

In all truth, she’s not sure that she really intends to take her fire dancing dream to a larger career. She’s considering reserving it for the people she loves, and as a means of showing the culture that Jabberwock developed post-Tragedy. Instead of using it as a career, Natsumi is hoping to eventually get married and have a family. She’s already picked out names for the four children she wants to have, and hopes to spend her time with them as a housewife. If she has to have a career, she thinks she could maybe enjoy being some sort of protector of the people. Perhaps an advocate? She’s not entirely certain. She just likes to joke that her Yakuza background makes her “want to help in a way that surprises people”. The thing that stands in the way of her goals the most is honestly her own ego, and sense of self-importance.

She is the third protagonist of the Danganronpa 21 series.

Phoenix Bartholomew Nevermind: 

The only son of Sonia and Gundham Nevermind, aged 14 (September 18th, 2022). He holds the title of Super High School Level Parapsychologist, and currently boasts no extracurriculars. He is 5′9 and 145 lbs, with an AB blood type. He is half-Japanese, and half-European. His affiliations include the Jabberwock Islanders, Hope’s Peak Academy, and the Novoselican Royal Family. He notably has potential to be the next heir to the throne, should he challenge his mother’s second cousin, Amaris. For his protection, he utilizes the name Phoenix Tachibana while at school.

Phoenix is, admittedly, sort of a strange kid. On account of his sort of strange parents. He’s an eccentric boy with a joy for life, a taste for culture, and the absolute glee that comes from accepting who you are wholeheartedly. Most others use the words energetic, fun-loving, and friendly to describe him. His attitude is, for the most part, carefree. He refuses to let anyone tell him that he’s being too odd, and will try to treat them kindly even if they do so. Not to mention that he is imaginative and resourceful, able to handle himself better than most people might expect. However, the boy is still human. Unfortunately, he’s rather clumsy and extremely gullible. He is incredibly vulnerable to manipulation, and falls for it more often than he doesn’t. His perseverance skills could also use a bit of work, given that he is the type to give up easily when things don’t necessarily go his way. His father’s influence has also made him defensive of his views on the world, and he admittedly has some prejudice towards “non-demons” on account of his parentage.

Phoenix adores all things supernatural. Old movies and plush animals, too. Oh, and any food that’s sweet. Japanese dramas, fantasy novels, and fireflies are also pretty high on the list of favourite things. On the list of least favourites, there’s spiders, the smell of kusaya, seagulls, his contact lenses, and Natsumi’s insistence on fighting literally everyone that so much as looks at her funny. His hobbies include yoga, sand art, fishkeeping, sewing, reading, learning new languages, and making up mythical creatures for fun. 

Phoenix’s big dream in life is to someday return to Novoselic. He wishes to challenge Amaris, and take back his family’s position on the throne. Admittedly, part of the appeal does come from wanting to return his mother’s title to her, after it was stripped following the Tragedy. But a lot of it comes out of love for his country and his people, and wanting to connect with the part of him he has yet to meet. He does someday hope to get married, but he worries that Novoselic might object to his “less traditional” preferences in a partner. His biggest obstacle to his dreams (apart from Amaris) is his soft-heartedness and emotional vulnerability. 

He is the fourth protagonist of the Danganronpa 21 series.

Junichi “Jun” Togami: 

The only son of Byakuya Togami and Aceline Aleshire, currently age 9 (May 16th, 2027). He holds no ultimate talent. He is 4′3 and 66 lbs, with Type B blood. He is of Japanese-European descent (French & German mother). His affiliations include the Akamine Academy for Gifted Youngsters and the Togami Conglomerate. He is notably the heir of the Togami Conglomerate. Among friends, he tends to go by the name “Jun”, but when his father’s around... well, everyone’s told that they’re obliged to call him Junichi. 

Referred to lovingly as “The Mini Byakuya”, Junichi is a child of ego, bluntness, and an overstatement of the value of wealth. He has a tendency to be arrogant, as well, so much so that he developed a rivalry with Seiko over which of them is more intelligent. He willingly looks down on anyone who he perceives to be below him, unless actively given a reason to respect them. Fortunately, unlike his father, he does think a sort of kindness warrants respect. When he’s not perpetuating his father’s questionable life lessons, most would categorize the boy as efficient, sensible, and articulate. He is straightforward and well organized, keeping everything neat and working as hard as he can to get what he wants. Sometimes, he can even manage to be helpful, when he really wants to be. Most likely on account of the loneliness he feels deep down.

Some of Junichi’s favourite things include math games, lizards, the piano and the violin, foreign novels, the night sky, and Renaissance art. He secretly also likes playing in the mud, but he’d never let anyone but Kameyo and Seiko know that. Generally, he has a distaste for rodents, the sight of blood, chocolate, cluttered spaces, eggplant, manga, death metal music, and his own mother. He is all too grateful that she is no longer in the picture. His hobbies are limited due to his business training, but when he has time to engage in them, he reads, plays the violin, does calligraphy, paints, and does ballet. He’s also always been kind of curious about make-up, but neglects this for he fears his father wouldn’t approve of him. 

Junichi’s main goal in life is to succeed his father in the Togami Conglomerate and restore the family to what it used to be. He has no greater goal than making his father proud by being strong, successful, and intelligent. He has already planned out his life all the way past graduating university with a specialization in business, and birthing a proper heir to come after even himself. Deep down, though, another one of Junichi’s dreams is to learn to accept himself for who he is. He’s awfully proud of him family legacy; however, he feels he can’t embrace all of himself if he’s choosing to follow it. His biggest flaw/hinderance when it comes to his goals is his unstable behaviour born from insecurity, and his possessiveness over the people he has in his life. 

Junichi will be the fifth protagonist in the Danganronpa 21 series.

Kameyo Hagakure: 

The youngest child and only daughter of Kanon and Yasuhiro Hagakure, age 8 (March 17th, 2028). She currently holds no Ultimate talent, but as of her story debut, she is under consideration for the title of the L’il Ultimate Medium. She is 4′3 and 61 lbs, with Type B blood. She is of mostly Japanese descent, with a quarter of her background being Jamaican. Her affiliations include the Akamine Academy for Gifted Youngsters, although she someday hopes to go to Hope’s Peak Academy.

One of the biggest staples of Kameyo’s personality is her absolute cluelessness. She tends to have moments of absent-mindedness and is somewhat spacey, unable to always understand the things that are happening around her. She is not always the best listener, and tends to take action before she can even think about what needs to be done. This makes her forgetful and somewhat careless in activities that concern her everyday life. Most would not say that Kameyo is responsible. Still, the girl absolutely makes up for her flaws in heart. She is honest, humble, and passionate. She has high levels of empathy and can quite easily understand behaviours based on the energy they give off and what she knows about them already. She is warm and kind, which tends to help as she is extroverted and highly sociable. Overall, she is just a sincere young girl that others love to be around. She may not always seem like she’s paying attention or make the smart choice, but when she is, you can’t help but love her.

Kameyo is especially fond of fortune telling, dolls, make-up, sunflowers, scented candles, crystals, pop music, and of course, ghosts. She tends to dislike the dark, bitter foods (especially matcha), slurping sounds, being unable to identify where a sound is coming from, and when others compare her to Junichi and Seiko. In her free time, she loves playing baseball, doing ballet, doing crafts, playing pretend, doing make-up, and collecting dolls. 

Given that she’s so young, Kameyo wouldn’t say that she’s someone with a profound collection of goals. Really, she’d say that her big thing is wanting to prove to people that she’s not crazy. That she really can hear ghosts, and that most of the time, the ghosts don’t want to hurt you. She really struggles with the fact that most people tend to assume that she’s disturbed or just a child, and wishes she could do something more to show them. She thinks maybe getting into Hope’s Peak Academy as the Super High School Level Medium might change that for her. Otherwise, she’s just a kid who wants to have fun; she would love to make as many memories as possible with Junichi and Seiko at her side!

She is the eighth protagonist of the Danganronpa 21 series.

Seiko Naegi-Kirigiri: 

The youngest daughter of Makoto and Kyoko Naegi-Kirigiri, currently 8 years old (December 14th, 2028). She currently holds the title of L’il Ultimate Detective, but cannot claim it yet. She is 4′2 and 59 lbs, with Type B blood. She is of Japanese descent. Her affiliations include the Akamine Institute for Gifted Youngsters and the Kirigiri Detective Clan, to which she is the heir. 

Confusing is the way most people would describe Seiko Naegi-Kirigiri. Probably due to her tendency to flip back and forth between being weirdly mature and then insanely childish rapidly. Her childishness shows most when someone first meets her, and she resorts to stoicism and shyness until she can get to know them better. Time will begin to show Seiko as an impish and impatient young girl, determined to get what she wants from the world. She is highly brilliant and confident in herself and her capabilities, and takes great pride in being a detective. Courage and willingness to stand up for others seems to pump through her veins, sometimes something she interprets as her “Kirigiri Blood”. She is friendly, dedicated, and kind. However, this doesn’t always show, due to other traits she possesses. She is commonly described as opinionated, graceless, and tends to speak bluntly about others. Given that she is so young and also of Kirigiri blood, she is frequently disobedient and impatient. One of the harshest things about her, though, is that she holds grudges and refuses to let go. 

Still, Seiko isn’t as harsh as she might seem. She’s still a little girl, after all. She has a child-like love of many things, such as snacks, Japanese mythology, chocolate, pretty rocks, and playing dress-up with her big sister. On the other hand, she dislikes secrets, pickles, green peppers, creepy old men, and being told to be more “lady-like”. Her hobbies include collecting stuffed animals and dolls, ballet, reading, climbing trees, playing chess, keeping a journal, and baking. 

Seiko’s primary goal in life, above all else, is to become a great detective like her mother. She wants to be a honourable part of the Kirigiri family, and ignite pride in her parents and great-grandfather. She hopes to someday open her own detective agency. If she can’t do that, though, she thinks she might want to be a professional ballerina. The only thing that might get in the way of this might be her impatience and spiteful nature.

Seiko is the seventh protagonist of the Danganronpa 21 series.

#danganronpa #Dangan Ronpa #Danganronpa 21 #danganronpa 21 character index #hope naegi-kirigiri #koichi naegi-kirigiri #seiko naegi-kirigiri #sakura asahina #leon hagakure #natsumi kuzuryuu 2 #phoenix nevermind #junichi togami #kameyo hagakure #naegiri #naegiri fanchild #kuzupeko #kuzupeko fanchild #sondam #sondam fanchild #yasukanon #yasujima fanchild #Super Danganronpa 2 #hope's peak academy #post hope arc #fanchildren #makoto naegi #kyoko kirigiri #aoi asahina #byakuya togami #peko pekoyama

[goldinavonlea]

I wonder if Gilbert ever told Mary who the girl he was referring to was. If he did, did she mean for him to be careful and make sure he loves her and it’s not just a crush or just in general marry the person you love without thinking of anyone in particular. And once planting season starts, who is going to look after Delphine. I mean I’m assuming both Bash and Gil will be busy with farm work to be able to look after her while they work. Poor Delphine 😭😭😭

I mean I would assume he’d mentioned a little more about her and Mary is, knowing as she does that she’s not going to be around to be a fussy big sister and vet any women he brings home for him, giving him the guidance she considers most important, particularly off the back of the conversation they’ve just had about Bash: Mary married the love of her life, and she wants the same for Gilbert.

Also, having had a child so young and it clearly not having worked out with the father, Mary is well aware of the consequences of falling into a relationship with someone who isn’t your Life Mate out of loneliness or the desire to have Someone, even if they’re not The One. It’s obviously a very different dynamic in today’s world, but back then it just wasn’t The Done Thing to just... try it out with someone, see how it goes, and if it’s not what you’re looking for nbd: fun fact I’ve only learned since watching this show, but I was looking up some stuff about courting gifts (read: I was fantasising about The Ultimate Dream which is a pretty boy giving me a pretty ribbon god I love a ribbon) and discovered that a significant part of the significance of physical gifts in courtship was that they could be held as evidence in a court of law if you deemed someone to have broken a promise to you. I’m not exactly certain under what circumstances you could have taken someone to court, what exactly constituted a ‘promise’ that was considered legally binding, but you could get up on the docket with a ribbon and an engraving of your face and be like ‘See? Evidence of his intentions towards me’. That is the level to which courtships were Not Fucking Around in the byegones, so naturally Mary is going to be cautious when her 18 year old baby brother in law wanders home with a pretty flower humming to himself over a girl he’s only just met—especially after he’s evidently been pining over someone else the whole time she’s known him, there are no flies on Mary, she knows. You sort of only had one shot proper shot at the whole Romance Thing—if you jumped in too soon and then wanted to back out you’d have a hell of a time doing so, and probably completely screw the reputation of yourself and the other person involved in the process, which would make both of your lives very difficult indeed.

As for who’s going to look after Delie (it’s adorable that they call her that and also essential that, like Anne, it’s spelled with an E: girl’s a baby not a New York sandwitch) during busy times on the farm, I’m not especially concerned—Marilla would, Anne would, Mrs Lynde would if it was a truly desperate situation though I personally would not hand a child of mine over to Rachel unless it was life or death, I imagine Miss Stacy would if it were harvest and school was out, perhaps the Barrys might now.

What DOES worry me is what happens when Gilbert goes off to Queens, and Bash is now facing down the prospect of single parenting a child and running a farm on his own all year round. The question of who looks after Delie THEN as a more permanent issue, as well as who’ll help Bash out, nags at me continually.

I don’t think from the way they’re talking about it that Queens is quite the same as it was in the books (which is to say, a teaching academy), since it always seems phrased with Gilbert like he’ll be going straight from Avonlea to med school, Diana saying she’d have a degree if she were allowed to attend Queens etc. In the books as I understand it, you go to Queens to get your teaching cert, then go on to Redmond from there to do your actual degree (Med for Gilbert, English for Anne). It seems to me that they’re sort of shuffling the concept of Redmond into Queens, with Queens as Med School for Gilbert, and Anne studying her BA in English.

But if that were not the case, what might have been Quite The Thing To See would have been a reversal of roles between them regarding teaching positions: if Mary’s died but Matthew lives (which I’m big time hoping for I mean frankly I wouldn’t have asked for this as a trade because I was sort of prepared as much as I could be for losing Matthew, but since they’ve already taken Mary off us they Absofuckinglutely cannot have Matthew too I will bare knuckle fight Moira myself), we might have seen Gilbert spending the year at Queens getting his teaching cert worrying about Bash struggling with everything on his own, and then him getting a teaching position in White Sands (? I think?) and Anne getting the Avonlea school (opposite to how it goes in the books) with Anne rather than Gilbert approaching the board to request a swap, so that Gilbert could be at home with Bash to help out (rather than Anne getting to be in Avonlea to support Marilla after Matthew’s death).

I think I’d quite have liked that.

As it is (as I said, with Queens I am fairly sure not being a teaching academy in AWAE), I really am not sure how Bash is going to go about handling it all on his own. Maybe Matthew renewing his offer to help Gilbert with the land but to Bash, with Bash Jerry and Matthew working both farms together while Marilla minds Delie during the day? That might work really well actually—Bash could go back to Green Gables after the day of farming, have dinner with them (so he’s not having to juggle a full day of farm work then having to cook and mind Delie), then head home to spend the evening treasuring his daughter. Though I hate the idea of him living in the house without another adult for company, missing Mary. I’m still hoping that Elijah is going to turn it around and step up in the wake of Mary’s death, so maybe he and Bash will manage to form a ragtag unit to run it all together (though still with Marilla’s help I’d imagine: she’s so besotted with Delphine and I’m not sure Bash could be carting Delie around the farm with him all day.

Although that being said I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what women did for like... thousands of years, farming and agriculture were traditionally the realm of women as well as childcare while men hunted (I read somewhere once that they’d done studies on really old remains and found that due to the hard graft of agricultural labour the average woman from x time period (and quite probably x broad geographical area) would have been more jacked than the average olympian today which is So Very Cool anyway) so they must have just touted their kids about with them, although this was probably in a time of much greater communal living and the whole ‘it takes a village’ thing so they probably had some gals minding the tots whilst others farmed etc etc anyway ANYWAY

Anyway yes, the prospect of how Bash is going to manage as a single parent and sole individual working that farm worries at me too (although... honestly I’ve never seen all that much evidence of what they’re actually getting up to I mean they... fix border fences I guess but other than that... mainly seem to hang out in the barn whacking the shit out of waggon wheels? Aren’t they an orchard? Like surely there’s no way in HELL an orchard large enough to sustain a living could be harvested by one or even two people? You know what actually how DOES that work I have questions now what kind of opperation are these people running anyway ANYWAY I have Can’t Shut Up Disease and I apologise)

#anne with an e #awae s3 spoilers #awae spoilers #spoilers #asks

[jjkfire]

me: bro don’t do it. don’t start another fic that you won’t finish. ok but imagine e2l jungkook

(don’t click if u hate unfinished fics)

jungkook // enemies to lovers // 3k words

With the rain pouring down outside, you hum delightedly as you bite into your juicy chicken sandwich that you had lathered in honey mustard. Sure, it wasn’t particularly healthy, but you could care less about that, especially when it’s 9 pm and you had just gotten off work. Not to mention the fact that you’re completely drenched seeing as you had forgotten to look at the weather app, again. At this point, you could care less. To be quite honest, you’ve become numb to everything. You guess that’s just what being another cog in the capitalist machine does to you.

It’s been over a year since you moved to the big city for a job. At the start you were a bright-eyed college graduate, ready to take on the world. Now, you’re just a shell of a human being, and one of the only things that can bring you joy is the very chicken sandwich you’re feasting on.

You like this place at this time of the night. It’s not as busy, just the soft chatter of some of the customers or rather the collective munching of all the other people who just got off work, feeling and looking exactly like you. The standing bar by the window is where all the tired, beaten down employees find solace with earphones plugged in and glazed over eyes looking out into the streets ahead. That’s your routine and just like any other night, you’re doing the same. Slowly chewing, as your mind drifts off somewhere, the music playing in your ears barely registering.

Tap.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You see a semblance of a figure standing in front of you on the other side of the window pane, but you’ve encountered enough oddballs in all your trips to this store that you’ve learnt to ignore anyone that stands in front of the window. Most times, it’s some crazy guy, going on some rant, expecting you to care. Your eyes only refocus when the person next to you taps you on the shoulder and directs your attention to the man waving wildly in front of you. You squint, trying to make out the person’s face through the rain, but by then the person has moved on, disappeared. You only shrug at the person who tapped your shoulder, turning your attention back to your sandwich instead.

“Y/N?”

It’s soft, but you think you hear someone calling your name over the music.

“Y/N!”

You pull out your earphones, head whipping around just to make sure you weren’t going crazy and oh god, when your eyes meet his, you sure hope this is just a fever dream.

“Christ, it’s like you’re on a different planet. I’ve never had to work so hard to get someone’s attention before,” The boy in front of you says as he wipes his rain-soaked face with a paper napkin.

“Jungkook?” You mumble, confused, staring at him with your mouth hanging half opened. What was he doing here and more importantly what was he doing here talking to you?

“Yes, sweetheart,” He smiles. “Keep looking at me like that and I might get the wrong idea,” He smirks.

God, he hasn’t changed at all.

“How is it possible that every time I see you, your ego is just 5 times the size it was before?” You question. “How do you manage to find space to keep it in that tiny brain of yours?”

“Easy,” He grins. “I store it in a bigger organ,” He directs your attention simply with his eyes, looking down towards his nether region.

You swear you almost throw up in your mouth. You simply shake your head at him, placing your earphones back in your ears before you turn towards what mattered the most. Your chicken sandwich.

“Oh come on,” Jungkook chuckles, yanking your earphones out. You absolutely hated it when people do that. “That’s no way to treat an old friend. Why the cold shoulder?”

“In what universe were we ever friends?” You ask. “Acquaintances maybe, but never friends.”

“Ah, that hurt,” He groans, clutching his chest. “You mean you don’t consider all the times I chased you around school with worms in my hands, quality time with a friend?”

“No,” You answer, with a curt smile. “And just in case you’re wondering, activities such as yanking my hair, putting tadpoles in my water and double knotting my shoelaces together under the table are also other events I don’t consider quality time with a friend.”

“Shame,” The boy pouts. “I really thought we were the best of friends.”

You roll your eyes at him, though a hint of a smile shows.

Jungkook, truly and genuinely is nothing more than an acquaintance… even if, both your parents wish otherwise. See, the two of you attended the same primary school and that’s how your mother had met his. After yet another torturous day at school with Jungkook attempting to put a live frog in your bag, you had ran up to your mother in tears. She assured you that she was going to have a stern talk with this Jungkook boy. She stepped up, ready to give the boy a piece of her mind when Jungkook’s mother stormed right up, ready to fight. It was hostile at first but soon enough the mothers were laughing together. Wait. This wasn’t what you wanted. After a lengthy chat, one that basically had both you and Jungkook ready to take a nap right on the bench the two of you had been sitting on, you heard your mother making plans to have tea with his mother one day. Hold on. You definitely didn’t want that. Yet, it happened. Jungkook never got reprimanded for trying to put a live frog in your bag and as your mother became friends with his mother, and later, best friends, Jungkook would soon earn a pass to play whatever heinous prank he wanted on you. Oh, but that meant so did you and so began the war between you and Jungkook.

Though you’ll agree that you weren’t quite as creative as Jungkook when it came to coming up with disgusting pranks, you could hurt him in different ways. See, Jungkook wasn’t the most studious kid and he was abysmal at math. You’ve seen him try to hide his report card many times, yet somehow or the rather, courtesy of you, it would end up straight in his mother’s hands. Oh, you still remember the way he would look at you. If looks could kill, you would’ve been dead and buried 50 times over. In any case, whatever amount of nagging Jungkook got wasn’t your problem. If he wanted it to stop, he should spend less time collecting tadpoles and more time studying.

Your war with Jungkook continued on until you were 12. By then, you had many battle scars. You’ve had gum stuck in your hair, had your shoes dipped in sewage water, your textbook put up onto the ceiling fan, among many other seemingly ‘harmless’ pranks that your mother would shrug off. If you had to go on living like this, there’s no telling what you would do to the boy. Luckily, as the year came to a close, and all the students got their results from the national test, you receive the best news you’ve ever heard. You had almost leaped with joy when Jungkook’s mother told you which school was bound for, it was the one just a few streets away, while you, you had gotten into a private school in the neighbouring district considering that you had passed the test with flying colours.

So began the ceasefire between you and Jungkook, or so you thought.

Granted, life was better now that you didn’t see Jungkook every day but that didn’t mean he was out of your life forever. Perhaps, you thought now that you and Jungkook were at different schools, your mothers wouldn’t be close considering they didn’t get to catchup every time they picked the both of you up from school. Oh, how wrong you were. Not only did your mothers stay friends, but soon enough, your fathers became golfing buddies too. Great. Just wonderful.

The worst part about having your fathers become golfing buddies was the fact that they would have these huge get togethers with all the other golfers and their families. They were quarterly events and though the adults had great fun with their booze and chit-chat, it was almost always awkward for the kids. All the kids would be lumped together in multiple ‘kids tables’ and everyone would just sit and stare at each other, trying to make small talk. Though you hated it, the food was almost always amazing and even if you had to be seated next to Jungkook, you didn’t mind because that meant his brother was never too far away.

You’ve had a crush on his brother, Junghoon, for as long as you can remember. Sure, he was four years older but he was everything Jungkook wasn’t. He was nice, sweet and best of all, he never tried putting tadpoles into your drink, or sticking gum in your hair. In fact, you think he’s the only one that listens to you and tells Jungkook off for misbehaving. He was an angel, your saving grace, the boy you would forever be in love with. Jungkook tells you that you’re wasting your time, that his brother has been dating the same girl since he was 11 and he was 17 now. Just because there’s a goalkeeper in front of a goal, doesn’t mean you couldn’t score, you would remind him.

So, that’s how those quarterly dinners went. You dreamily conversing with his older brother while Jungkook made his moves on all the girls in the room. That is, until Junghoon started bringing his girlfriend to the events. Now, you had to sit there and watch them act all lovey-dovey while you were stuck next to Jungkook. Wonderful. Of course, it was of no help that puberty seemed to hit Jungkook like a train. He went from looking lanky and shabby to… hot. As much as you hated the boy, you couldn’t deny that he was plain attractive. If anything, the girls at the dinners, constantly trying to talk and flirt with him was a glaring reminder of how good looking he’d become. It wasn’t like you were staring but he had a well-built chest, solid thighs and of course his face that bordered between cute and straight up sultry depending on how he styled his hair. Towards the later years, he started leaning away from his favourite bowl cut, which meant it started getting harder to pretend that you most definitely thought he was handsome and if he wasn’t the Jungkook that you knew, you’d be like any one of the other girls trying to strike up a conversation with him.

Despite it all, you still looked forward to the dinners because of the delicious food, and perhaps also because you and Jungkook would sneak towards the table at the back where the bottles of wine and hard liquor were placed, often stealing a sip or two when no one was looking. As the years went by, the two of you got bolder, both pouring yourselves a generous serving of whiskey and of course pouring in some coke after that to make it seem like you were good little kids, sipping on soda. Though from afar, it may seem like you and Jungkook were friends, you were adamant that the two of you were nothing more than acquaintances. It wasn’t very easy to convince people because he often posted up pictures of the two of you. He usually looked great in them meanwhile he usually caught you while you’re placing your spoon into your mouth, or while you’re in the midst of sneezing. It was deliberate of course and you had expected nothing less from Jeon Jungkook.

Though Jungkook and you didn’t share the same circle of friends, most of your classmates knew him. With a face like that, of course they did. Of course, the fact that he was exceptional at sports didn’t help. He’d gotten close to some of your friends when he would meet them at sports meets. All the schools in the same district would often duke it out before moving on to the next level, and the next until they reached the state level and finally, nationals. Jungkook got as far as the state level when it came to swimming. Honestly, he had the talent to go all the way, but he was always too busy trying to chat up girls instead of trying to best his own record. In fact, you think he only decided to be a swimmer because he could post pictures of himself in that itty-bitty swimming costume and get all the girls to swoon. Also, yes, you’ve been forced to attend his swim meets, usually at the request of his mother and god, it was torture trying to pretend like you weren’t staring at the boy half the time. You just had to admit that you loved the fact that he had that V-line. God, what you’d give if you could just run your finger along— no, never mind, thoughts like that weren’t meant to be wasted on boys like him.

Many times, you’ve had girls in your school come up to ask you if you could perhaps introduce him to them. You would often say no, but that you could give them the next best thing and that is his number. Can’t you at least only give my number to the hot ones? Jungkook would ask you when he saw you at the quarterly dinners. You would tell him that each time you gave out his number was only revenge for each tadpole he had put into your water bottle back in primary school. God, you’re so petty, he would groan. He promised he’d get his revenge on you too.

As high school rolled on to college, Jungkook had learnt that mentioning your name to his mother gave him the all good sign to go hang out until whatever time he wanted. If my mum calls, just tell her I’m with you, he would say. Truth is, the two of you really would be together, except on the opposite end of the same club. So, you’d oblige when he would ask you to pose for a picture together. In fact, you needed to send one to your mother too because you had told her the same lie, that you’d be hanging out with Jungkook for the night. The two of you usually staged the photo, walking to a nearby restaurant, to sit down and snap a picture before heading to the club.

Back at the club, the two of you were truly acquaintances at best. A rare smile, an even rarer few shared sentences and that was it. Of course, barring the times Jungkook would send his friends your way for a neat little prank. You had caught on pretty quick though. Anytime, a boy would approach you, your go to sentence would be, if Jungkook sent you then sure, I’d give you my number but only if we split whatever it is he’s giving you. So that’s how you ended up with a few extra ten dollar bills by the end of the month. Even so, it started getting annoying, so of course, you had gone up to tell Jungkook that you’ve had enough. At that he only scoffed before telling you that each time he sent a boy your way was only revenge for all the times you had given out his number. He promised that unlike you he only sent the good-looking boys your way… because it looked like you could use a good lay. Oh, you wanted to strangle him right there and then.

After that, you got smart. You told any of the boys that came your way that you were willing to pay double of whatever Jungkook was paying if they would kick him in the balls for you. Turns out boys aren’t quite loyal and after being assaulted a few too many times, Jungkook learns to stop sending boys your way. You thought that would be the end of it, that you would be able to enjoy your nights in peace but You should’ve known better. Jungkook was hard to miss at the club. He was loud, obnoxious, and god, did he look good in a button down. If anyone looked closely, they would’ve mistaken you for any other girl, almost drooling as you watched him sip from his whiskey glass, seated on the couch with his legs spread out. He would wink in your direction, as if inviting you take a seat. Fuck, what you’d give to do just that. To grind down on him and put your hands on his broad chests that you— no, wait, thoughts like these really shouldn’t be wasted on boys like Jungkook. Of course, your mind would never really listen, so you would find one of his friends instead, giving Jungkook a full view of what could have been if he wasn’t such a dickhead.

Ignoring Jungkook was a tough task, really, and honestly if he tried anything more than harmless flirting with you, you think you would end up under him in less than a second. Which of course, is bad news. You truly had no self-control when it came to handsome men, but to be fair… look at him. Would any sane person say no? However, fortunately for you, you would get your one and only true, clean break from Jungkook. University. The two of you had gone to universities on opposite coasts and so, the two of you hadn’t seen each other in three good years. You had spent your breaks volunteering and travelling and it seemed so did Jungkook. Whenever the two of you went back home, one of you would have already left. Of course, you still knew what he was up to. It seemed like he was getting even more attention in university. It shouldn’t surprise you. Being on a university campus meant everyone was your age and equally as horny, so of course he was having fun. To be fair, so were you. In any case, you think whatever lingering attraction or rather lust you felt for the boy, had long died away. Yes, that is what you thought… until of course you find Jungkook standing in front of you after four long years of not seeing him and against all laws of nature, it seems like puberty had hit him a second time. That or your dry spell was just really starting to get to you. You reasoned that you would be okay, that this would be the one and only time you and him would run into each other in a city so big, but no, you would run into him time and time again. Then he would convince you to do something so stupid, that you believe the only explanation to you saying yes was that you were possessed. That’s the only way to think about it… because why else would one say yes to sharing a studio apartment with the devil incarnate, Jeon Jungkook himself?

click for some more secret sauce (aka my collection of unfinished fics bc i have no self control)

[irageneveart]

If everyone in Mystic Messenger played DBD, which character would they play? 👀👀👀

omg you hit the right button hahaha. thank you for this request anony!!! everything under the cut like always, I hope you enjoy 🧡

RFA + BONUS Playing Dead by Daylight

ZEN

games? why would he play games in his free time instead of running or going to gym or spending time with his babe

also please don’t forget he has a vintage PC from 20 years ago or older. that shit doesn’t run DBD. or anything

when Seven and Yoosung got the game and tried to make everyone to play, they gifted a laptop to Zen. that’s it Zen you have no excuse now

the only times he’s playing it it’s when they call him of a Survive with Friends

after a brief look through the free options he gets David, that’s a strong man that surely will survive

Zen is picking the game mechanics pretty well and there’s no panic when the heartbeat goes crazy, but he isn’t getting well with the technology behind it

“GODDAMMIT I WANTED TO GO LEFT, who puts the down button between left and right???” the down button jdksdjkfsbfksf

he has survivor rank 16, doesn’t play enough to get them up

he tried killer too, and somehow he did a perfect 4k with Anna, a strong and beautiful woman suited for himself no babe of course you’re more beautiful

he felt proud but trying a second time he got destroyed. never again

YOOSUNG

whenever he gets some money to spare he buys the next DLC in line

survivor main, all of them are lvl 50. but he jungles between rank 3 and 2, can’t go higher but doesn’t get lower either

he’s that Claudette that helps everyone. you’re hooked, you have Yoodette nearby. you’re in the basement, after the killer left a wild Yoodette gets out of a locker and unhooks you. for just how long have you been there???

his perks are team oriented, he’s pro at taking hits for his teammates and gets some nice last moment rescues

also if there’s a hex on the map Yoosung is your man, somehow he always finds them

doesn’t play killer very often, mostly for dailies. but his go to would be The Legion, Frank or Joey. there’s something about them bad boys that he’ll never be and he enjoys the chase and tracking downed survivors after failed mending

JAEHEE

she wouldn’t have time or energy to play

“MC…please, stop looking at me like that. Of, you really want me to play don’t you?”

alright she’s playing

she started as survivor at everyone’s suggestion, and after reading every survivor’s perks she’s ready to go in with Feng Min. great skill checks, good strategy, she did almost all the gens by herself and rescued almost all of them from the hook, while she only has been hooked once the entire game

one girl army

however she didn’t look like she was having fun

“I’m saving people and getting the job done daily at work, MC” wow ok someone save her

one day you tell her to take on your trial, you had to go *somewhere*

killer, The Pig. how hard can it be

when you come back to the screen all your points were maxed out, 2 pips and everybody was praising the killer in the end game chat

??? another reason not to mess with Jaehee

JUMIN

“What is the purpose of this game?”

it’s…just a game. you play it to have fun. what purpose you want

he starts out by playing SwF with MC, Seven, Yoosung and Zen. usually Seven is the killer, sometimes MC, but after Zen complained so many times why does he have to be in team with the trust-fund-kid, Jumin had a better idea

“Do you want me to chase you instead?” lhfjlfkhfllyf

he wanted to read the lore of every killer before choosing one. how can one choose his partner if he doesn’t know their background?

he ends up going with The Trapper. ex CEO in line, wanted to be like his father so much he mass killed a bunch of coworkers. he understands the story. juju what

after a brief explanation of the controls and everything, Jumin is destroying everyone in the first 10 min. perfectly placed traps, he always guesses where the survivors are hiding and on which gen they’re working

“Why I cannot pick this killer?” well,Ju, they’re DLCs, you have to buy–

all of them are bought. for MC too

He also plays Michael, his quiet self combined with The Shape make the perfect jump scares and mind game chases

SAEYOUNG

rank 1 on both survivors and killers, all of them are 50 and he also knows top secret details about the upcoming DLC that no one even knows it exists yet

damn you

as survivor he’s the joker of the team. you can’t catch him, he’s like vanishing mid chase. hatch escapes and flashlight saves are his speciality and somehow he always has brand new part on his toolboxes

also expect him to bring the killer on your head only because he’s a troll but he’ll make up for it later

as a killer he loves playing The Doctor, laughing together with Herman with every electrocuted target, but he also plays The Spirit or The Hag

he’s on the entire map, playing against him is literally nerve wracking

BONUS

VANDERWOOD

plays both survivor and killer

as a survivor even if you can’t hear him you know he’s nagging. you failed a skill check? you see Jake turning towards you

since Darkness Among Us went live expect to see a judgemental Jeff from behind a wall when you miss that killer stun too

he has great calls and if he points you to go somewhere you better do it

usually loses because he tries to get everyone to escape

his rank is higher as killer than survivor, and he likes to play killers like The Cannibal or The Wraith, efficient in downing down survivors but also that requires some strategy. he also likes playing The Hag for that wonderful Devour Hope

killing that t-bagging Meg by his own hand is his guilty pleasure

SAERAN

killer main, although every character is maxed out

if he plays survivor he’s the most lone wolf survivor you have ever seen.

and he plays Laurie or Nea

you toxic lil shit

as a killer he likes those like The Hag and The Clown, cause he likes imagining all of the survivors being grossed out and screaming in fear

he mains The Legion for a reason he won’t tell you, not even if you guess. “I just do.” it’s all you get

likes to play around the basement and watch the survivors die one after the other trying to rescue their friends

saeran are you ok lol

V

V is the perfect Dwight main. he’s nice to have around but he’s pretty bad on his own lmao

he’s more into altruistic and chases type of survivor than objective one, he rarely completes generators

he loves doing totems tho, there isn’t any HEX on the map but he needs to do that one last totem

the one that always writes “good game” at the end of the game, even if he died first and he had to wait the entire game to finish

while in SwF somehow he’s never on the same side of the map with the rest and when they question where he is he suddenly appears just to get hooked, tunneled and to die

i’m a bitch sorry

he likes the game tho and is happy RFA found something to do together aside work

RIKA

yes she plays it too, tho not with RFA. she heard about it from a letter from Yoosung so she tries it herself. maybe one day they’ll get in the same lobby

she read everyone’s story and she felt deeply sorry for The Nurse. needless to say she’s her main

sometimes if there are DCs or people die too fast, she’s letting the last survivor to escape

if she’s feeling particularly melancholic she’ll just let everyone farm and escape

she doesn’t write in the end game chat but secretly waits few seconds, waiting to see the survivors’ reactions. leave a “gg” in the chat and she’s beaming

she can’t play it daily, and wouldn’t tell her psychiatrist she has it on her laptop, but it’s a nice outlet to spend her free time

#ira geneve #rfa headcanons #zen hyun ryu #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #jumin han #saeyoung choi #mary vanderwood 3rd #saeran choi #jihyun kim #mysme rika #mystic messenger #dead by daylight #anon request #writing request #my writing

[lord-explosion-baku]

Reread Me (pt. 1)

Yandere!Aizawa x School Nurse!reader

Warnings: so far... obsessive thoughts? And uhhh the reader has a quirk that allows her to heal someone to a near complete recovery and she does that to a student so there’s that too. It’s not sexual tho.

A/n: no, I’m not starting a new series but I did want to make multiple parts to this bc I am a fool. I’m also posting this now because I’m impatient and wanted to throw content at y’all. You can also read it on AO3 HERE for better quality because I’m far too lazy to italicize this rn.

He hadn’t known if he had had these feelings before the kiss. He had seen you a couple times. Of course he took note of you. You came to the school the same time All Might had. You were Recovery Girl’s grand niece and you were training under her as the school’s second nurse and there had been mild talk about you and your power. Like your aunt, you had a healing quirk but there had always been talk of a second quirk you didn’t use. That made Shouta curious but after the USJ attack, after you had healed him to a near full recovery with your kiss- that wonderful kiss, it was safe to say that his curiosity was piqued.

He hid in the shadows as he watched All Might and Midoriya exit your office. He hadn’t known why he didn’t want anyone to know he was going to see you but hiding had just felt more careful. Everything he did regarding you, he wanted to be calculated. But this was just a visit. There was no reason to be sneaky about anything.

Shouta inhaled sharply, trying to silence the nagging voice in his head that spoke to him as soon as he saw you. The door was cracked opened and he saw you shuffling papers on the office counters. You wore your hero suit: a form fitting white doctor’s coat with that appealing white dress and exaggeratedly long thigh high white boots. It was so prim and proper but your hair was up and messy, some strangling hairs fell into your face which Shouta adored. He wanted to see how you’d look lazing around the house in comfortable clothes with your hair down… relaxed.

Shouta probably watched you longer than he should’ve before knocking on the door, pushing it farther open. Though he kept a calm demeanor, Shouta felt his heartbeat pick up when you looked up from your work and cast him that adorable grin, a particularly bouncy strand of hair fell in front of your eyes which you abruptly brushed back. He wanted to push it back down, unwind all of your hair, unwind all of you.

“Gosh, I was hoping you wouldn’t see me like this,” your face was flushed and you looked away. Shouta didn’t think you had anything to be bashful about.

“You look,” extraordinarily gorgeous, “fine.” Shouta had in fact taken you out a couple times. Once with a few other faculty members (he never thought it was weird that he didn’t enjoy socializing with them much until he met you. He wanted to go out with you while you were in a comfortable environment so he could study you make sure you could enjoy yourself and he didn’t want you to think that was the recluse that he was) and other times had been simple things like getting coffee. Neither of you had called them dates yet which is why Shouta has refrained from kissing you even though the first time the two of you had officially met was when those beautiful and soft lips of yours had healed him. It was also why Shouta tried his best not to shower you with the compliments he knew you deserved. It would be out of character of him and he didn’t want anyone, you most of all, to take notice of any particular change in him. He knew what he was and that was more than enough.

“Yeah, well I’m exhausted,” you let out a soft breathy laugh. Shouta felt the need to catch your breath with his lips. It was far too precious to let escape. “Healing that Midoriya kid takes a lot out of me. He was so… broken. You know, I had to call his mother to get her permission to kiss him. I think I made her cry! It made for a quicker recovery but I was so embarrassed!” You peered at him through your lashes. You were looking for a reaction.

Shouta tried hard not to grind his teeth together. He knew, he knew there was no malicious intent behind Midoriya’s recklessness. Though, as of yet, Midoriya had been the only other person that had been injured badly enough to need healing that way. But Shouta couldn’t be jealous of a child. Midoriya wasn’t a threat and you were only doing your job. Still, he made a mental note to make sure that Midoriya knew the repercussions of breaking his bones a little better.

“There isn’t a need to be embarrassed, Y/N. You did what you had to.”

“Yeah, you’re right… so is there a reason for your visit or do you just miss me?”

Of course he missed you. You were all he can think about. He came to find out if you had to kiss Midoriya but that was silly. He sat down on the exam bed. “Maybe I missed you… maybe I’m injured.”

“An injury? Where might you be injured Mr. Aizawa?” You crossed your arms and did a once over on his body. It was obvious that Shouta was not in any pain.

He grinned to himself. He’d love to have you play doctor with him but that was unprofessional. He wasn’t going to cross any lines. “My back is pretty sore.” He wasn’t going to cross any more lines!

“In that case, why don’t you lay stomach down for me?”

He did what he was told with jubilant anticipation. Your hands tugged up on his shirt and the lightness of your touch caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand. He prayed that you couldn’t tell how excited he was but even more so he wanted you to know how badly he craved your hands on his body. A finger traced his spine and warmth enveloped his body. You were using your quirk.

“Where does it feel the most sore?” Your fingers were tracing circles around his back, searching.

“Uh…” light fingers pushed farther up his back. There was no pressure at all but it felt like you had been kneading his muscles when in reality your fingers only dashed across his shoulders. Shouta resisted the urge to let out a groan.

“This is where you’re keeping most of your tension. There must be something stressing you out… and it probably doesn’t help that you spend many hours curled up in your sleeping bag!”

Shouta lightly chuckled. You spent a lot of time making fun of his sleeping habits.

To Shouta’s dismay, you withdrew your hands. It had seemed like all his worries, all his toxins have been wringed out of his body. He felt… great.

Shouta pulled his shirt down and twisted around to see you. You looked immensely ore tired. You had already drained yourself by healing Midoriya and now that you’ve helped Shouta…

“You didn’t have to do that…” Shouta couldn’t help but think that you looked adorable like that. So sleepy. He could imagine you wrapped up in his sleeping bag, snoozing lighty with no worries or obligations to dwell on. He thought about using that as a suggestion.

“It’s my pleasure to help out a… colleague.” Ouch. Shouta stood up off the bed. He bid you a farewell and marched towards the door.

“Shouta…?” You called before he closed the door behind him. He turned to you with a lazy disposition. He couldn’t let you see how badly he wanted to prove that the two of you were more than ‘colleagues.’

“In case you were here for any other reason than a sore back,” you continued with coy finesse, “I happen to be free Friday.”

Suddenly, any plans that Shouta may or may not have had for Friday had vanished. Whether you knew it or not, Shouta would be spending it with you, though, still acting under his cool facade, he only blinked at you.

“Noted.”

~

Tags for EVERYTHING (closed): @yandere-inamorata @miitaart @dessiedawnwritesfanfiction @wickedlewicked @chickennuggetsarequestionable @nevermorelanore @kpanime @ayeputita @captain-sin-allmight-queen @diisasterbii @iceformer @meganofmars @colagirl5 @colorbookshd @grimmjadeskye @sm0kingcrack @sarcastictextstuck @zellllyyyy @psionicsnow @mynahx3 @andie-in-tumblland @iamthe-leaf @midnightfeline666 @bungou-stray-alies-tales-of-aly -of-aly @rubyred-28 @kattariapenn @heypartypeps @quirktaker @thecryingsombra @smbody-stole-mycar-radio @ghost-of-todoroki @geektastic84 @personoffangirlingandtears @glixeo @rubycubix @mekakushi-dan-01-kido

#bnha x reader #bnha #bnha imagine #bnha reader insert #reader insert #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #yandere!aizawa #yandere!aizawa x reader #yandere male #tw yandere #shota aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x reader #yandere bnha

[toomanyfeelings5]

the definitive ranking of pulp! the classics covers and summaries, from worst to best

(Note: Pride and Prejudice was not included in this list, as there were only poster and greeting card options for the work, and not an actual book or summary. Had a book and summary been provided, it would have ranked lowest for unoriginality. It’s literally just 1995 Colin Firth staring moodily at you. The caption is “Lock Up Your Daughters...Darcy’s in Town!” which is just unfortunate, frankly, and honestly laughable.) 

16. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte 

You take a novel that’s positively overflowing with drama and give it THIS cover? THIS summary? Absolutely uninspired. 

Here’s looking at you Cathy...

Childhood sweethearts turned star-crossed lovers, fuelled by bitter jealousy and dark revenge. She’s pretty and posh, he’s a moody brooding bastard. Heartbreak, alcoholism and plenty of illegitimate kids – it’s a perfect Northern drama.

Where is the feeling? The screaming violins playing as we read? The moors? The time skips? A hint of the positively bonkers plot that only a Bronte could compose?

15. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde 

 Oh, the heterosexuality of it all. On an Oscar Wilde novel, no less. 

Hey girl...I’d sell my soul for you!” 

Dorian Gray might be as pretty as a picture, but he's paid a devilishly high price for it. He'll stay drop-dead gorgeous, but there's something nasty festering in the attic...

Pretty as a picture and still lusting after ladies? Please. Pulp! Classics, you can do better. 

14. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald 

Again, we must speak the ancient chant: Oh, the heterosexuality of it all. 

When it came to loving...He knew which Daisy to pick! 

Sorry old sport, but Gatsby has a bigger house than you, prettier friends than you and a Rolls Royce to cart them all round in. To a backdrop of popping champagne corks and orchestral jazz, our hero bids to buyout his old adversary, perennial jock, Tom Buchanan and reclaim Daisy, his favourite bit of High Society totty.

Nick Carraway gets not one mention, which is odd given that he’s the narrator, the protagonist, and Gatsby’s most ardent love interest. Also strange is the cover’s insistence that Jordan Baker, known lesbian, would swoon over Gatsby. Doubly strange is how tiny the women are in comparison to Gatsby’s massive frame. What is, again, bamboozling, is how the slogan on the cover seems to imply that Gatsby knows how to pick a woman. He doesn’t know how to choose anyone, let alone love them. All Gatsby truly knows is the desperate pursuit of a fruitless dream. 

13. Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare 

Romeo looks like he could be Juliet’s father. Juliet looks like an Upper East Side Widow, not at all like the tween girl she really is.

Too wild to live...too young to die!

Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou…. Oh wait, he’s hanging around in the garden again. Will young Romeo and his Juliet ever be able to express their raging hormones? Or will their feuding families make this romance blossom into a poisoned flower? Either way, both their houses are totally plagued!

“Wherefore” means “why,” not “where,” though I do have to award points to the summary for placing the blame squarely on the feud and not on these doomed young lovers. Though again, young isn’t the operative word I’d use to describe this version of Romeo and Juliet. 

12. Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe 

This is what one would expect upon seeing a pulp cover of a classic novel. Not much originality or flair is present, but at least some sense of the story is conveyed. 

Solitude was driving him nuts!

Cannibals! Captives! Coconuts!

One man’s love of the sea leaves him stranded on a desert island with nothing but a few goats, a bible and a parrot for company.

Will he ever escape? Will his new pal Friday learn to efficiently press a goatskin jerkin? Or will solitude send him totally barmy?

WILL Friday learn to efficiently press a goatskin jerkin? One must read to find out, I suppose...

11. Tess of the D'urbervilles 

Marilyn Monroe?????

She’s...no angel.

The original Wessex girl!

Tess is just a humble milkmaid when the local landowner has his wicked way. Her new beau, the smarmy Angel Clare, is none too pleased when he finds out she’s already been deflowered. What is a girl to do? Bloody revenge of course, and an ending to touch the hardest of hearts.

At least the summary blames the terrible men in Tess’s life rather than Tess herself, unlike the tagline on the cover. And while Marilyn Monroe seductively lounging about with a drink doesn’t recall the faintest essence of Hardy’s novel, one would like to imagine Tess relaxing in whatever clothes she pleased, a straw dangling out of her drink, a smile on her face as she answers to no one and spends her quiet evening in solitude. 

10. Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K. Jerome

An innocuous cover; the men’s faces hint at the comedic nature of this novel, and yet...something nags the brain upon looking at this.

To say nothing of the dog...

Incompetence, embarrassment and general disaster - no it’s not PMQs, it’s a trip down the Thames! Three hapless fellows and a world weary dog decide they need a holiday from their exhausting hypochondria. Hilarious mayhem ensues.

To say nothing of the dog indeed: Why does the dog on the cover have a human face?

9. The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka 

All one can say upon viewing this cover is: Jeff Goldblum, is that you?

Change really BUGGED him! 

Poor old Gregor. One day he's depressed about his dreary travelling salesman gig, the next, he's roaching around the apartment and disgusting his family. All that's left is creeping the walls and eating garbage. How's his sis ever going to find a sugar daddy with her grotty bro in tow?

Gregor isn’t grotty, he’s our six-legged hero in this tragic tale. 

And yet in the end, the question that haunts us all echoes in our minds in an unceasing echo: is that Jeff Goldblum? 

8.  Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland 

Alice as a hippie is eye-catching, but not particularly creative. 

This cupcake was off her head!

What HAS happened to little Alice? Taking 'shrooms, hanging out with hookah smoking ne'er-do-wells and being dragged to court. That's gonna be one hell of a hangover!

As much as I’m intrigued by Alice wearing heart-shaped sunglasses and a peace sign necklace, the summary and the cover consist of one joke and one joke only. 

7. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde 

I just like how Dr. Jekyll in this cover looks equally as fucked up as Mr. Hyde. 

No more Mr. Nice Guy... There’s a sinister man about London town with something of the night about him. Mr Hyde is mad, bad and has a penchant for bumping off MPs and other kindly innocents. Will his friend Dr Jekyll be able to stop him? Or is there something more to their relationship than meets the eye…? Only the intrepid Utterson can get to the bottom of this mystery, but what will he find in Dr Jekyll’s lab?

Points to this summary for including Mr. Utterson, and for insinuating that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde may be clandestine lovers. 

6. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens 

Ladies, gentlemen, and otherwise, don’t we love it when a greedy rich man gets bludgeoned by a mace into being more generous and kindly towards others?

This cat was a drag....’til a midnight wake-up call...

Christmas?! What a load of Humbug. Mistletoe and Wine just don't do it for Scrooge; he's a workaholic miser with an attitude problem. If he doesn't change his ways, he'll end up with no friends and Tiny Tim won't last the year. Let's hope some spooky night-time visitors can put the jingle back in his bells!

Ring-a-ling-a-ling, Mr. Scrooge. The mace is raised and the bells are ringing.

5.  Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad 

The tag-line made me, as the youths say, laugh out loud. 

Whoops! Apocalypse....

The horror! The horror!

Kurtz might be the apple of every brutish imperialist’s eye, but his God complex is getting wildly out of hand in the depths of the jungle. What on earth will Marlow find when he finally gets downriver? Devil worship? Savages? Heads on sticks? Or just another nutty white man with his knickers in a twist?

Surprisingly anti-racist summary made this jump to the higher echelons of this esteemed list, though of course that doesn’t excuse this novel’s abhorrent and embarrassing fake-deep racism. It also must be noted that the tag-line should have been “Whoops! White supremacy!” and the text of the novel should have entirely consisted of Chinua Achebe’s essay on the work. 

4. The Hounds of Baskerville by Arthur Conan Doyle

The cover alone is a winner. A rabid chihuahua out for blood? Inspired. 

Murder...Mystery...Walkies!

A desolate moor, a diabolical dog in need of a muzzle and some inbred locals; Sherlock Holmes is really up against it. With the help of his trusty sidekick Dr. Watson, Holmes pieces together a mystery that has captured the imagination of readers across the decades. All whilst practising a serious coffee and cocaine habit.

The tag-line is fun and catchy, but sadly this summary must be admonished for insisting that Dr. Watson is merely a “trusty sidekick” to Sherlock Holmes. Heterosexuality strikes again, reducing the impact of the striking cover design. 

3. Dubliners by James Joyce 

Finally! Some style, some panache, some flair to accompany these short stories about being sad and horny in Ireland. 

Stuck in the Liffey with you...

Booze, Sex and Hot Floury Potatoes… Those Dubliners are at it again!

Liars, thieves, whores and priests… James Joyce sure knew how to throw a party! This relentlessly downbeat collection explores the very worst aspects of human nature, and doesn’t leave out the juicy bits. It might not be in the best possible taste, but who doesn’t want to get down and dirty in Dublin?

The summary and cover work in tandem to wholeheartedly convince me that Dubliners is an action-packed, slick collection of stories detailing the wild escapades of a motley cast of ragamuffins, and I gotta hand it to the folks over at Pulp! Classics for injecting some bonafide vintage cool into Joyce’s work.

2. Othello by William Shakespeare 

I have so many thoughts on this. Mr. T. as Othello is fascinating, as is the tagline, “Some kind of Bard...aaaaasss.” Is this a commentary on blaxploitation media? One can’t help but recall Mr. T.’s reasoning behind his mohawk, his gold chains, to honor his ancestors and assert his living, unshakable humanity in a racist society. Is this is a genuine effort on the part of Pulp! Classics to imply that a blaxploitation-influenced adaptation of Othello could reveal deeper truths to the play that we have had yet to glimpse? 

Some kind of Bard... aaaasss

He’s a bardass brother with the love of a fine woman. That is until some cloven hoofed honky starts talking crazy about variously hued sheep tupping the hell outta each other! You gotta pity the fool who gets shafted by the green eyed monster. Let’s hope Othello can work out who to trust before it’s too late…

The fast-paced alliterative language of the summary harkens to Shakespeare’s own wit-fueled dialogue and penchant for creative language. The summary also calls Iago a devil, which is apt, and implicitly criticizes his racism, hinting at the play’s greater tragedies to come. The cover and summary also work in tandem to emphasize Othello’s jealousy and destruction: the “green-eyed monster” is mentioned, and the cover itself is a putrid green. An excellent example of what a vintage cover and summary can achieve. 

1. Frankenstein by Mary Shelly 

You all knew this was coming. 

This kid was born on the wrong side of the lab...

Frankenstein’s monster is on the rampage; terrorising the locals, unleashing murderous hell… and reading novels in his spare time. Can his petrified creator stop this reign of horror before his girlfriend gets the chop?

A James Dean-inspired creature, thereby making them a queer icon? Masterful. The creature being “born on the wrong side of the lab?” A stroke of genius; that they’re called a kid puts the poignancy of the monster’s plight into even greater relief, while simultaneously emphasizing their tragic charm. The clear distinction between Frankenstein and the creature? Reader, I exhaled in a cathartic release of tension. The loving detail that the creature reads novels in their spare time, like any other leather-jacket wearing, motorcycle-riding ruffian with a heart of gold? Beautiful. 

Truly, the obvious queer energy of this cover and summary highlights an overlooked dimension of Shelly’s great work while also paying homage to what draws us to this Modern Prometheus time after time. Do we care about the petrified creator in this summary? Not at all. He’s not on the cover, appearing both rebellious and gentle. We are here for the creature, in their leather jacket, on their motorcycle, novel sticking out of a back pocket on their jeans, ready to whisk us away to a place where even monsters like us can find solace, and be at peace, and commune with each other. We need only take their outstretched hand, and be willing to leave the mundane world for something better, for the chance to no longer be alone. 

#books #art #classic works #i'm going to purchase a copy of that frankenstein cover and no one will stop me

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

OUR FUTURE WILL BE A BRIGHT ONE: CHAPTER NINE                                                              (finale)

                       eremika soulmates through time modern au

                                     (previous chapters/ff.net/ao3)

IKIGAI

JAPANESE; "A REASON FOR BEING", ‘A THING THAT YOU LIVE FOR”  – THE THING THAT GETS YOU OUT OF BED EACH MORNING

 I think we deserve

 a soft epilogue, my love.

 We are good people

 and we’ve suffered enough.

 SEVENTY YEARS OF SLEEP # 4. NIKKA URSULA

 She’s a shy girl, but she’s also a  quick learner and it doesn’t take her very long to pick up the games that kids play on the narrow streets of Shinganshina. It’s a completely different world here,  such alien and strange for somebody who used to have daffodils and squirrels for friends before. The morning comes and all of the doors fly open as kids practically burst out of their homes to run around until their little legs get tired or the dinner is ready and their mothers usher them back to wash up dirt from their hands and faces.

Mikasa begins to participate in this ritual as well – Carla Jaeger never forgets to give her and Eren a piece of bread with honey and a kiss on the cheek before she waves to them as they disappear in the crowd. And while Eren and Armin usually prefer to do other things than play with neighbors’ kids, the three of them sometimes join one of the small bands scattered in the district and spend an afternoon with them - and that’s how Mikasa learns it all, this collection of games created when the lack of resources crashes with children’s boredom and creativity. There’s hide-and-seek and tag and  hoola hop that requires a narrow, wooden ring that girls spin around their hips. One child chases others and taps their shoulders to turn into the chased one. Kids sit in circle, clap hands in intricate patterns and recite dirty rhymes; they use chalk and sticks to draw on the stones and dig in the soil; they jump on one leg and pretend that the ground is lava.

Sometimes smaller girls gawk at her eyes and nag her about her hair long enough that she lets them sit behind her cross-leggedand braid her black strands into an elaborate construction that ends up un-tangling halfway home. She would never admit that to Eren, but she likes this – likes feeling little, quick fingers on her scalp and listening to their excited chatter. Those girls are sweet and innocent and just the way she used to be, while she was living with her parents. And their dreams and wishes reflect that; they want to grow their hair long and beautiful, to have handsome husbands in the Military Police and big houses behind Wall Rose or even Sina, with crimson flowers blooming on the balcony and chubby, pink-cheeked babies.

And Mikasa can understand that.

Those girls  (what are their names? Tina, Riza, Mirielle? Maritte? Marie? She can never remember) also teach her one more game, the one under “no boys allowed category” – the apple skin one.

Tina is sitting on an empty apple crate, a small knife looking wrong and weird in her plump hand. She keeps on cutting her fingers and cursing and when Mikasa asks her what she’s doing, the girl raises her round, brown eyes at her and blinks in surprise;

“You don’t know about the apple skin?”

She doesn’t and so they eagerly show her. They instruct her to peel the skin off an apple with a knife, but not to break the skin - as the peel has to be intact, long and spiral. Then they tell her to stand up and throw it behind her left shoulder, her left hand flat on her chest, above her heart.

“And why am I supposed to do that?” she asks them, skeptical about the whole thing. It really sounds silly and she doesn’t even wanna think about what Eren would say if he saw her standing on the street and throwing apple peels around.

And she does not want Eren to laugh at her. At all.

But the girls insist; they circle her like a swarm of little bees or chirping baby birds.

“You’ll see! The peel will make the shape of a letter-“ “And the letter that it shows is a name-“ “- It’s not a name stupid, it’s the first letter of a name-“

“- of your future husband!” they end in unison, the three of them looking up at her with such a brightness and honesty written on their round faces that she just can’t refuse them.

Not that it matters anyway – she doesn’t need to throw any peels to know what will be the first letter of her future husband’s name.

After all, she is also just a little  girl, who also dreams of a husband, of a house, of flowers and of a green-eyed baby of her own.

  “Yes.” Historia nods her head solemnly after Mikasa stops talking. “I remember that. We were there too. Paradise Island, before the Second Eldian Uprising. Around mid-800s, I think?” the blonde rests her chin on the hand and stares off the distance.

They are both sitting on the plastic chairs in Historia’s backyard, in the middle of the first “Summer Party” of the season, as Eren cryptically called those meetings when Mikasa asked him about them. The sprinklers have just turned on, making some guests shriek and scatter, trying to run away from the water – not an easy task, considering the place is packed with people. The smell of barbecue makes Mikasa salivate, Toto’s Africa is blasting through the portable speakers that somebody brought and some brave individuals decided to dip in the pool, even though it’s just May and not a particularly hot evening. She can hear Eren somewhere on her left side, playing a kind of rules-free version of soccer on the grass with his friends which seemingly involves a lot of screaming and, more often than not, multiple players ending up in a pile on the ground.

Historia sits on  folded legs, with daisy chain on her head and loose strands of hair dancing around her face on the breeze like spider webs. So lost in her thoughts, she seems as dainty and fragile as possible. Mikasa tries hard to put together the fawn-like line of her neck and delicate collarbone with the nightmarish visions that would make her wake up covered in cold sweat more often than not lately; winged crests, flakes of gore spiraling in the air like gruesome cherry petals, cobblestones streets stinking of too much people. The world bathed in blood. Cruel. Unforgiving. Devoid of any beauty. And yet familiar, as odd as it is to find familiarity in something straight out of their high school history books.

Mikasa wonders how Historia made it through there. Was she as graceful and full of sweetness as she is now?

“This is where we first met.” The girl adds quietly after a minute or two of silence,  her eyes locked on Ymir’s back as she is getting up from the grass. “ But I don’t like to think about it too much. To be honest, it was horrible. I never want to live so much longer than her again.”

That Mikasa understands. There is not a worse thing than existing when the other one is gone. It is a torment that she would not wish on anyone, ever, no matter the time or place.

“So weird, isn’t it? Us, talking about those times like it was last week. Feeling so ancient when we are so young.” The corners of Historia’s mouth go up slightly and she shakes her head. “Look at them, my god.”

Connie slipped on the wet grass and all the players lay toppled again, one big tangle of limbs and curses and laughter. Eren catches her eyes and sends her a blazing smile, trying fruitlessly to wiggle from underneath Berthold.

800s. So old. And yet Mikasa doesn’t think she has ever been younger than now, with her lips chapped and happiness bubbling inside her.

I’m hungry, I’m hungry for whatever comes next. – sings some guy through the speaker.

Historia giggles as Ymir keeps on tripping over Reiner’s legs.

Sprinklers spray Mikasa’s bare feet with cold water.

The sun colors the horizon pink and yellow and red and all of the brilliant shades in between.

Eren managed to stand up and lowers his hand down to help Sasha; there are sweat stains on his shirt and grass in his messy hair. If he was nearer, she could smell it all on him. The sweat and the grass and the happiness.

As far as she is, she doesn’t hear his exact thoughts -  just feels contentment, stretching between them like a golden cord or a silk ribbon.

“Yeah.” She answers softly. “ It is really strange.”

 ***

  What comes next? Mikasa remembers it used to plague her mind for some time, before she even met Eren. Supposed I have a soulmate, how life even looks like, with a bond like that?

She jumps higher, runs faster and spins tighter than ever, that’s what happens. Once she would curse her muscles and limbs for weighting her down and working against her will, but now she feels so light that she’s surprised she makes any sound walking at all. It suddenly feels so easy; the sequences of movements, soft and smooth, crisp with no hesitation in them. She diligently pins her now-short hair in place, chalks her hands and faces each obstacle with no fear whatsoever. The steady flow of medals that follow her improvement make it look like as if she turned into Midas, painting everything gold with her touch alone. And while it all brings her a lot of joy and while praises that she hears from her coach and teammates and fans are not unwelcomed either, she knows well what makes her soar so high.

She knows now how it feels to be up, so that the surface of the Earth looks like a glorious oriental rug painted with sunlight and spread down her feet.

It shows in her movements, this joy. Even when she’s walking, she goes through the motions as if she was dancing. She supposes that it’s even more evident, while she’s doing gymnastics. She used to think she was good, before, and there was a truth in that – she was born with a natural talent which was then honed with years and years of steel discipline and hard work. Before, she was flexible and strong and well-trained, but now, with her eyes wide opened and memories back, she is not just simply good – she is superb. She has this spark that shines so brightly in her, fueling each and every step. And the centuries past don’t lie, it’s evident now, clear as a day. She could never reach stars without Eren by her side. She was always at her best, when she was with him.

So she jumps higher, runs faster and spins tighter.

And it feels exactly like running on the roofs and jumping up and down, suspended in the air with steel lines of her 3DMG used to feel like.

 *

 “How many times did we lay just like that?” he asks her one night, his hot breath caressing the shell of her ear, his fingers idly tracing figures in between her shoulder blades, while she’s still shivering, oversensitive and satisfied.

Countless she thinks. Countless and more

But something painful blooms in her chest, like a thorny bush tearing her heart into shreds.

“ I don’t think we had many occasions to do that.”  She answers honestly and he hums in agreement.

Not in the softly-lit room, not in a  warm bed, not smelling like her peach-scented shower gel and each other. Not without scars spoiling their skins and with no mountains on their backs.

Never so calm. Never so sure, so careless.

 *

He supposes that the funniest part is that he doesn’t feel like anything changed at all, for the most part. Armin is still his best friend just as he used to be for as long as he can remember and his mother still smiles when his visits her every Saturday and brings her flowers. He still trains in his favorite gym, listens to his favorite bands and fails in saying “no” to his dog.

He’s still the same person, basically.

Only suddenly everything is different. Only suddenly everything is easier and simpler and more bearable; only suddenly he’s calmer and faster and more focused than ever before. This mess in his head quiet now. The twitching of his leg gone. It’s like somebody took a sheet of sandpaper and dulled the sharp edges of the world so that they don’t hurt him anymore.

Mikasa came into his life, fitting neatly in as if she has never been a stranger, as if there has always existed an empty place ready for her.  She brought a series of small changes with her, that’s true. But those changes feel more like a fresh, cool breeze from the fan during a humid afternoon than anything else. Like tiny snowflakes that just keep on falling until they cover everything in white and all he sees is her, her, her.

The Thursday game nights, Annie ruthless in Monopoly, Armin miles ahead all of them in Scrabble, Mikasa surprising everyone by her mad poker skills.

Sunday mornings, lazy and sweet; Mikasa in his arms from the dawn till dusk, making love until they both collapse curled around each other, sleepy and sated and so, so fucking happy.

Saturday afternoons, Mikasa and his mother working in the garden and laughing quietly, drinking lemonade and watching old movies with Audrey Hepburn on this ancient VHS player.

She came and reorganized pretty much everything and yet he cannot even imagine how his life looked like without her.

 *

 July comes strangely unexpected, like a cat creeping on soft, soundless paws.

He closes the doors of the apartment behind him, with a bag of groceries in his hands and a blissful perspective of three full days without work in his mind. Tomorrow they’re going to Levi and Petra’s daughter christening and then … well, he has keys to Mikasa’s parent’s summer house on the countryside in his pocket and a lot of great ideas how to spent all this time alone with her.

He doesn’t bother to say hello; Miki is not home, he knew it before he opened the door. She should be here, but she’s not – on the emotional level it feels like a very cold blow of AC right into his face and he tries to swallow this feeling before it overcomes him. She’s probably out jogging or something anyway.

Instead of dwelling on that, he focuses on the small things; packs fruits and vegetables into the fridge and hides Mikasa’s favorite, absolutely sinfully unhealthy chocolate cereal in the upper shelf, where she needs a stool to reach. She begged him to do that; she kept on insisting that sometimes, before she can climb on the chair she changes her mind about eating them.

He, personally, never witnessed it, but whatever makes her sleep better at night.

The flat is not as white as it used to be before he moved in; there are splashes of color here and there, scattered on the furniture in form of his flannel shirts and Bumblebee’s chewing toys. And the Bumblebee itself brings the element of destruction into this sea of serenity; right now, she may be snoring soundly on her pillow in the living room, but years and years of constant spoiling made Eren’s pug a very hard roommate indeed and he never realized it until moving to Mikasa. More often than not she would run around the flat with this stripped yellow-and-black bandana around her neck and wreak havoc in her wake… to the constant displeasure of Madeline.

“Well, these two are definitely not soulmates, that’s for sure” crosses Eren’s mind, as he flops down on the sofa. He decides to kill some time by watching this video from two weeks ago, of Bumblebee cashing Madeline around Mikasa’s ankles; his girl was holding a salad bowl in her hands and looked half-irritated and half-amused, as if she was torn between yelling and laughing.

He loves this video; everyone at work has already seen it at least three times and Petra even more. Besides Levi of course, who seemed hell-bent on pretending that Eren is not as prominent in his niece’s life as he is.

But as he is about to press play, the bell chimes loudly, waking Bee from her slumber. Narrowly avoiding stepping on his angry dog, Eren makes his way to the door, wondering silently who could be coming over at such weird hour without letting them know earlier. The only people he can think of are either his mom, which he highly doubts, or Armin and Annie, who are currently enjoying the cloudy English weather and the company of old books, and kindred nerdy, pale scholars during their trip to Oxford.

“Hello- Oh, hi Tori.” He can feel the frown on his face smooth out as he sees a familiar blond figure standing behind the door.

“Hi, Eren.” Chirps Historia Reiss, smiling like a little sunflower and raising up a foil clothing cover in her hands. “ Is Mikasa home? I finished her christening dress.”

“Nah. But come in, she should show up soon.” He takes the hanger from her hands and waves his hand in a welcoming manner.

Historia and Mikasa’s friendship is something nobody could predict or foresee, but when it clicked, it continued to work smoothly and without any glitches.

They found the connection in their respective relationships, Historia patiently guiding Mikasa by the hand through the uncharted territory, them sharing stories of their past lives and current connections, a tangle web of centuries of trauma that they had to work through and could never fully resolve with their respective partners.

Sometimes Eren wishes he remembered more – that he remembered as much as Miki at least, so that they could share this burden together. But for all her eagerness to give him all of her, this is the one part that Mikasa doesn’t let go of easily. Surely, she happily drags him along if she has something nice for him to see, but besides that, she keeps all that she sees and knows and suspects to herself. And he doesn’t want to pressure her to open up.

But sometimes Mikasa would go awfully quiet and so awfully sad. Tears pooling in her eyes she would bite on her lip hard enough to draw blood and shiver in his arms for hours, sweating with cold sweat and making him so, so scared.  And still, she refuses to talk about, clams up when she asks.

“What’s in the past, stays in the pasts.” She simply says, not looking at him and biting on her nails absent-mindedly.

It’s not if it still haunts you. – he wants to scream, but the words got stuck somewhere in his throat. Maybe it’s the same with her; or maybe she just wants to protect her, in the only way she can.

Either way, he us beyond glad she has but somebody that can help her somehow compartmentalize it all.

 Historia quietly pads into the apartment, bursting into laughter at the sight of agitated pug spinning nervous circles on the floor.

“Damn, your dog has some issues, Eren.”

“ You can only imagine.” He sighs heavily, picking Bee up to rub behind her ears. “ Hi girl, won’t you just-“

 Just like that, everything goes quiet.

There is no sound.

No light, no movement, nothing.

Just coldness spreading through his body, chilling each and every cell of his body.

Just pain, so strong that it doesn’t even seem like a pain at all; it is incomparable to anything he has ever felt. Broken leg? Nothing. A concussion? A walk in the park. That time when he fell down the stairs and injured his spine? A nap on the feathery bed.

Pain exploding within him, taking his breath away, making his heart stop.

Mikasa,

Mikasa,

Mikasa.

“Eren? Eren!” Historia on her knees next to him on the floor, Bee barking again, the coolness of the wood underneath his palms-

Red car speeding on red light, red pooling on the concrete, Mikasa’s red iPod Mini shattered into tiny, little pieces.

“Eren.” She whispers, eyes desperately opened, sun so bright above her. “Eren.”

  *

 He doesn’t believe in god. Never has, as far as he remembers.

“Take the sun away.” he whispers, lips brushing cool wood of his mother’s worn-out rosary. – “Take the sun and- and the moon and all of the stars, just- “

His voice breaks in half; ugly sob escaping from his mouth before he can stop it. It’s so, so cold.

“ Just bring her back to me.”

There is a lifeline that stretches between them, red and infinite and beyond a crowded waiting room on the Intensive Care; a lifeline that nobody else sitting on those ugly orange chairs can see. But he can. And he will hold onto it, as tightly as possible.

And pull her back.

 *

There is a memory that keeps on coming back to her over and over again. Eren ahead of her on the mountainside; his right hand holding onto a metal chain and left one outstretched towards her. He doesn’t even have to turn away to see her slipping on the ice-covered stones. He somehow knows, even though the wind is too loud for him to hear her quiet gasp or the sound that the soles of her boots make.

His hand shots and catches her wrist before she can even begin to fall, before the line that ties their waists together even begins to tighten; he pulls her upright strongly, steading her on a slippery slope.

Wordless support, wordless trust.

Thank you. She thinks. Thank you.

 The image of his hand outstretched. He has always looked ahead and trusted her to watch his back. But he has never abandoned her either, never forgot she was there behind him, even when she thought he did.

 She has a lot of time to think, is this sea of whiteness where she floats. Without any weight to carry, her thoughts flow lazily, one image after another. Some of them would normally make her heart ache, or even cry. But now she is glad they’re there; even the bad, the ugly. She doesn’t know that she would still be there if it wasn’t for the anchor they form. Maybe she would wander off to far to even make it back.

But with this goddamn, piercing I have always hated you, Mikasa echoing in her ears on repeat, it is impossible to let go.

It doesn’t matter that he didn’t mean it. It doesn’t matter that it was thousands of years away. Some wounds remain open for forever and that is one of them, still open and bleeding all over everything.  She would laugh if it could even when you’re hurting me, you’re saving me.

So, against all she latches onto all that pain and heartbreak and reaches out her hand; searches through the nothingness for hours and hours until her fingers find it – the string, taunt and so, so warm.

Mikasa grabs onto it and holds on for what simultaneously feels like a fragment of a second and forever. Blinded and deaf, she holds on until her senses come back, one by one; until she can feel warmth of the sun of her skin and biting stench of antiseptics. Until she opens her eyes and sees him again, silent and grief-stricken and sitting next to her hospital bed, holding her hand.

She blinks, once, twice; watches as big, fat tears fall down his cheeks as he presses his forehead to her hand, his whole body shaking with relief that washes over both of them. She is too weak to do anything else but look at him, to keep her eyes opened and blink. But maybe that’s enough.

  *

 “There you are, honey.” Coos Carla, leaning down and putting a cup of green tea in Mikasa’s shaky hands.

It might be hot outside, but surrounded by hospital walls Mikasa feels very cold and quite small, really, so she will take every comfort she can have. She wills the corners of her mouth to raise a little and takes a sip, hot liquid burning the roof of her mouth.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, darling.”

All those pet names, thrown on her like a blanket covering her useless legs. She wishes she could ask everyone to stop – Carla, her mom, her dad, her friends – to stop hovering over her, but it simply won’t do. They would listen and genuinely try to stop, but she still would see it in their eyes. All the worry.  

For now, her only solace is Annie with her own brand of harsh love that involved passive-aggressive remarks like “Will you stand up finally?” which makes other people present gasp. But Mikasa indeed, wants to stand up very much.

After Carla leaves, Eren appears; his steps echoing in her ears long before the doors open and he enters her room.

With a sight, he plops down on her bed, but she refuses to look at him. Still sitting on a wheelchair, she stares out of the window; what a beautiful day, sunny, not a cloud of the sky. Her whole body itches; in irritation, she forcefully sets down the teacup on the table and spills some tea in process.

“Miki.”

From her position, she can almost see green grass of the lawn next to the parking. She would jog there sometimes, passing the hospital, the parking and the lawn, not stopping to rest for she hardly ever needed to. How weird it is, to miss the stretch of her muscles and sweat dripping down her back.

Warm hand closes over hers.

“Miki.”

Eren’s kneeling on the floor next to her, his eyes big and pleading.

“Why are you so angry?”

We should be out there, she thinks, desperately and against herself, on Historia’s summer party, in my parents’ country house. Not here.

So much was stolen from  them already. All those times where they met only to be torn apart, all this tragedy following them wherever they went. She is just so done with it.

Damn, Mikasa. His voice in her head is so infinitely sweet, almost dripping in honey. He gently brushes hair away from her face and leans his forehead on hers. This? This is nothing compared to what we’ve been through. There will be other summers.

There will be other summers.

She closes her eyes, trying to forget about the sun spilling through the window and focus on his voice on the promise ringing in them.

Really?

He chuckles quietly.

Yeah, really.

Her memories are subjective, but they don’t lie. Presented with the choice wheatear or not to trust Eren, all the Mikasas would always choose the former, without fail.

***

 Their days become very long now, with the seasons passing behind the windows of their apartment like in kaleidoscope; summer in full bloom and then autumn, radiant in golds and scarlets. And winter again, the two of them cozy in their little microcosm lit with sweet-smelling candles.

Mikasa learns how to sit again and then how to walk again. It’s an excruciating process, more often than not involving a meeting with the plush carpets that now cover the entirety of the floors in the flat. And although Eren would keep her from falling if she let him, she prefers to do it a hard way. By that, she can at least feel like in those old good times, as if she was covered in sweat and exhausted after a hard training and not after taking a few shaky steps.

But it all passes like seasons; soon enough she walks again and then jogs, faster and faster, Eren always glued to her side, his silent prescience so comforting that it somehow makes it up for all the lost dreams that she had to abandon. She thinks a lot about it, how it felt to fly; but at least she can still curl up in his arms and he can kiss her neck and it’s different but it’s good. So good.

Snow falls and then melts; spring comes again, brilliant and fresh. By that time, she is already working out with a jumping rope again, drops by the neighboring dance studio whenever she can.  There is a white dress hidden somewhere at the back of her closet; one beautiful mess of silk and lace crafted with Historia’s meticulous hands. The dress is waiting for the right occasions, but Mikasa has stopped waiting a long time ago.

Life is good when doesn’t need crunches or Eren’s arms to stand up. Life is good when she can actually sneak up on him and put her cold hands underneath his shirt when he’s cooking, making him jump and scream jesus Mikasa, go wear a sweater or something. Life is good when he doesn’t have to pick her up from the wheelchair and carry her to bed. Life is good with her new job and old friends and Annie and Armin standing underneath flowery arch and smiling like dorks.

Even after she met Eren, she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. But know she knows for sure, that even when it drops – it is not gonna be the hardest thing she has ever been through, not even close. And that life will always be good, as long as he will hold onto her, as long as he will keep her centered.

 ***

 “Soulmates… why didn’t you like the idea?”

“I don’t really know. It always seemed so limited to me, like, why am I supposed to just be with this one person because we used to be together a couple of times before in a span of centuries? I didn’t enjoy somebody dictating me how to live my life, I guess.”

“You’re are such a rebel, Miki.”

“Oh, shut up. Tell me about you. What made you okay with that?”

“ Well. You know, when people find their partners, they tend to look at certain things. Like money and race, and gender, and interests and all of that. We don’t really tend to pair up with people who are very different from us. But the notion of soulmates… it just shows that it’s all bullshit. It doesn’t matter at all. When you really love somebody, all of those things are just so insignificant. That always sounded kinda beautiful for me, that it’s your heart that chooses this person time and time again, not your head. “

Maybe he is right. She doesn’t know; she doesn’t care. All she knows is that everything before him seems now like a soft, slow build-up and being with him is a beautiful crescendo; a moment when the music drags you under, overwhelms you.

Give me all your love now, cause for all we know, we might be dead by tomorrow.

One headphone in his ear, one in hers; hands linked and eyes closed, they sit in an empty train, talking without barely opening their mouths.

Even if we’re dead tomorrow, I’ll find you again, Miki.

I’ll find you again and I’ll love you again, Eren.

Ugly and beautiful, all together. She doesn’t think that this crescendo will ever really end.

  *

 As if the heavy slope of my shoulders

doesn’t write a hundred paragraphs.

As if the way I look at you

doesn’t write the singular ending.

 You are my epilogue,

my prologue,

and every chapter that exists in between.

 Everybody, sit down.

  I have a story to tell."

-          Stories. Seventy Years of Sleep, nikka ursula (n.t)

#eremika #eremika fanfiction #snk #eren x mikasa #snk fanfiction #our future will be a bright one #aot fic

[seriestrash]

Jackson Street Gym

Summary: AU where Cyrus doesn’t know where TJ works and stumbles across him there by chance. Requested by anon [x]

Time frame of this AU: Same as the actual scene, whilst Buffy is away.

Read on Ao3

Word Count: 1979

It’s Saturday morning and after staying up until the early AM working on a science project, Cyrus is not thrilled to be waking up only a few hours later. He’s even less enthused about his wakeup call being delivered by a five year old jumping on top of him. 

“Hi, Cy, Hi, Cy, Hi, Cy!” The young boy chants as he bounces on his knees on Cyrus’s bed. 

“Hi, Mason.” Cyrus sleepily greets his step brother. “When did you get here?” 

“Mommy just dropped me off.” Mason finally stops his jumping. 

Cyrus looks at the digital clock on his nightstand and groans at it only being a few minutes after six in the morning, meaning he barely got three hours sleep.  

“Dad and Leslie said we get to spend the day together and it’s going to be so much fun!” Mason excitedly hits Cyrus in the arm. 

“Yay.” Cyrus’s fake enthusiasm was not winning him any awards. 

Cyrus sleepily drags himself out of bed and into the kitchen where Leslie gives him a sympathetic smile as she pours him cereal. 

“I didn’t know Mase was coming over this weekend.” Cyrus was so tired that he missed his mouth after trying to take a mouthful of his breakfast. 

“Kelly’s sister went into labour early so she dropped him here.” Leslie explains why Mason is here on a weekend that he’d normally be with his mother.

“I’m getting a new baby cousin.” Mason is enthusiastic as he bounces around the kitchen. 

“Yeah you are, buddy,” Todd picks up Mason and spins him around, “Why don’t we put your bag in your room and let Cyrus have a chance to wake up properly?” 

“Okay.” Mason seems disappointed as Todd carries him out fo the room. 

“I know you were up late last night, Cookie but-” Leslie begins but Cyrus cuts in. 

“Nooo.” Cyrus groans. 

“Honey, I know but Todd and I both have patients all day.” Leslie looks apologetic. 

“I love Mason but he’s so exhausting,” Cyrus sighs, “And I’m already so exhausted.” 

“You could take him to the park or that kids gym on Jackson Street and he’ll tire himself out by lunch.” Leslie suggests. 

“That is some optimistic thinking.” Cyrus yawns knowing full well the chances of tiring out that pure energy ball were slim.

Cyrus gets dressed for the day as Mason was already eagerly nagging him about doing something fun. Cyrus had nothing against his energetic step brother it was just that they had very little in common - with him being five and all - and Mason was known to be spritely and considering Cyrus’s lack of sleep, the full on day did not sound ideal. 

Cyrus decides to take Mason to the Jackson Street Gym as it was a controlled environment and therefore easier to keep track of the bouncy kid. The two are walking down the street together when Mason spots the sign and runs ahead. 

“Be careful of the road!” Cyrus chases after him but is uncoordinated with his efforts and trips over, scraping both his palms up in his attempts to catch himself from falling.  

Cyrus picks himself up just as Mason barrels into the gym. Cyrus stops to assess his tender hands that were scraped pretty badly and beginning to bleed. Although his injuries stung, Cyrus has little time to stand around and think about them as he had to catch up with Mason. 

Once inside the gym, Cyrus freezes when he spots Mason bouncing up and down - nothing out of the ordinary there - what actually surprises Cyrus is the person bouncing along excitedly with him. It’s none other than TJ Kippen. Scary turned not-so-scary basketball guy. Or, super-kind-to-me-but-not-always-to-Buffy basketball guy. A concept which leaves Cyrus conflicted about their friendship now that Buffy has moved away. 

In a panic Cyrus takes a purposeful dive behind a stack of safety mats. Once crouched behind them, Cyrus begins to wonder just what his plan was, what was next? He’d hide there forever and abandon Mason? Hope TJ leaves before Mason questions where he is? Cyrus is dwelling over his lack of viable choices when two familiar faces peek around the mats to look at him. 

“Hey, Underdog.” TJ says with a crooked smirk. 

“Whatcha doing, Cy?” Mason questions. 

“Hi,” Cyrus says still in his crouched position with a little wave, “I was just playing hide and seek. Mase, you win..” He offers up unconvincingly. 

“Hey, did you hurt yourself?” TJ asks concerned after noticing Cyrus’s injury when he waved. 

Cyrus faces his palms towards himself, both of which were still bleeding. “Oh,” Cyrus says as he gets to his feet, “I just tripped over outside, it’s nothing.”

“Hey, Mason, why don’t you go play with some of the other kids and I’ll help your clumsy brother here clean up?” TJ says with a smirk meant for Cyrus although it was pointed at the younger boy. 

Mason happily joins in with the other younglings and TJ leads Cyrus to the back after telling one of the older workers he was helping a friend out. The two teens are inside the staff room where TJ wets some paper towel and helps Cyrus clean his palms gently. 

“So what’s the verdict, am I going to make it?” Cyrus asks. 

“I think you’ll survive.” TJ says with a chuckle as he throws away the damp paper towel. He then takes Cyrus’s hands and looks over his palms again. “We have some decorative band-aids if that will make you feel better?”

“I wouldn’t say no to something with dinosaurs on it...” Cyrus jokingly fakes being sheepish. 

TJ wears a knowing look as he reaches for the first aid kit. Then he rather excitedly reveals a box of band-aids. Cyrus’s mouth hangs agape and he takes the small box in his hands, “They’re shaped like little tyrannosaurus rexes.” 

“For your dino-sores.” TJ laughs softly as he takes the box and points to the pun on the label. 

“Well I’d hate to bleed out.” Cyrus says goofily and he holds out his palms. TJ obliges and places a green dinosaur band-aid on each of Cyrus’s scrapes. 

“There, all better.” TJ says with a grin. 

Cyrus is smiling at the decorative dino on each palm when TJ continues, “I didn’t know you had a little brother?” 

“Step brother technically,” Cyrus explains, “But yeah, we’ve been brothers since he was one.” 

“So you two must be pretty close then?” TJ asks.

“Not exactly.” Cyrus frowns. “We don’t have much in common.” 

TJ laughs at this, “Cyrus, he’s five, you’re not supposed to have stuff in common, you’re supposed to have fun.” 

“I suppose working at a kids gym makes you the expert?” Cyrus folds his arms. 

“It helps,” TJ laughs, “And so does having younger siblings myself.” 

“You do?” Cyrus asks. 

“Yep, twins, a boy and a girl, making for the most hyperactive duo. I also have an older sister so I have experience being the younger sibling too.” TJ explains. 

“I did not know you came from a big family.” Cyrus says, “I also didn’t know you worked here.” 

“And here I was thinking you were stalking me.” TJ jokes. 

“You’re full of surprises, TJ.” Cyrus says with a titled head and fixed gaze causing TJ to look away nervously. 

“Mason seemed pretty excited when he first got here.” TJ tries to shift focus off himself. 

“Mason is excited about everything.” Cyrus states with a laugh.

“Maybe so, but he was particularly excited about having- how did he put it?” TJ pauses for a second and smiles, “Super mega fun time with his big brother.”

“He said that?” Cyrus asks with a smile.

“In his eyes, you’re the coolest person he knows.” TJ pats Cyrus on the shoulder. 

“He clearly doesn’t know a lot of people.” Cyrus scoffs and TJ rolls his eyes at Cyrus’s negativity.  

“From one big brother to another, they all think we’re the coolest.” TJ leans in closer like he was letting Cyrus in on a secret. 

“You’re also a little brother too.” Cyrus highlights with a raised brow, “Is your sister the coolest person you know?”

“God no,” TJ scoffs, “I’m old enough to know better,” He laughs, “She takes way too long in the bathroom.”

Cyrus chuckles along at this.

“So.” TJ says nervously after the room falls silent, “I should get back to work.” 

“You probably should.” Cyrus laughs with a nod. 

“There’s a parents room out the back where the mom’s and dad’s all sit around and read magazines or talk about their kids,” TJ explains with a look of boredom, “But you’re welcome to hang out the front with me and Mason and about a dozen other kids.” 

“Is that allowed?” Cyrus questions. 

“Of course.” TJ nods. “You could maybe finish that game of hide and seek?” 

Cyrus’s cheek burn red under TJ’s knowing look. 

“If I was an insecure guy I might have thought you were avoiding me.” TJ adds more sheepishly. 

“What, why would I be avoiding you?” Cyrus scoffs dramatically although he intended for it to be casual.

TJ and Cyrus make their way back out into the gym where Mason pounces on Cyrus. With TJ’s comment about not having to have things in common rather just have fun in Cyrus’s mind, he lets himself enjoy the quality time with his brother. It also wasn’t terrible spending the day with TJ either, more so very enjoyable and any guilt Cyrus felt about Buffy was lost in the moment. 

After some fun and games - and a whole lot of chasing Mason around - Cyrus is beginning to feel his three hours of sleep catch up with him. 

“Does this place have a nap time?” Cyrus asks with a yawn. 

“It’s a gym, Underdog, not a daycare.” TJ laughs, “Why are you so tired?”

“I stayed up late working on my science project.” Cyrus explains. 

“But that’s due on Monday?” TJ wears a quizzical look. “You stayed up all night on a Friday to work on an assignment that isn’t due until Monday?” 

“Yes?” Cyrus is confused over what the big deal was. “I’ve been working on it all week, I just put the finishing touches on it last night.. Or this morning depending how you look at at...” 

“I haven't even started mine.” TJ shrugs nonchalantly with a laugh. 

Cyrus winces at this, it hurt his academic achieving ways. 

“Going by the look on your face I’d say I better start it tonight and not leave it until tomorrow like I had planned?” TJ chuckles. 

“I think that’s a good plan.” Cyrus nods with a smile. 

Mason joins the pair of teens and tugs on Cyrus’s arm. 

“Hey, Mason, are you getting tired yet, you maybe want to go home?” Cyrus looks at the boy hopefully. 

“No!” Mason runs a circle around TJ and Cyrus. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Cyrus frowns sleepily. “I think I might just sit down for a little bit and watch.” 

Cyrus walks over to one of the foam cubes in the room and sits down, tucking his head up on his arms on top of the cube, “You have fun, Mase.” 

“Ni, ni, Cy.” Mason gently pats Cyrus’s hair before returning to play. 

TJ watches and lets out a quiet laugh at the very tired Cyrus. “Dork.” He says to himself before addressing the children running around, “Who wants to play the sneaky, creepy, quiet game?” 

Various shouts of expressed interest to play come from all the children. TJ wears a wide smile as he places his index finger over his mouth. All the kids quiet down and TJ invents a new game for everyone to play, one that just so happens to allow Cyrus to comfortably snooze in the corner of the room. 

End Notes: Hope you liked it anon! I hope it was incredible enough for you ;) 

My new one shot tag list! 

|| @andi-shackk || @duderrific || @human-shitpost || @cyrushgoodman || @castle-byers-all-friends-welcome || @the-greatt-perhaps || @stupidlambforever || @dont-judge-me-im-a-fangirl || @gusandimack || @tjhasacrushgoodman || @1302dillywomps || @cheesystars || @i-am-beyoutiful || @koimy || @phinallyjackie || @angelstr343 || @you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus || @back-to-this || @spookytyrus || @smol28louis || @tyrusmagocious || @editscenes || @happy-pinkpanda || @tj-goodman-bittersweet-boy || @idk-i-stan-things || @lisastae || @wizard-dragontamer || @thinkingabouttyrus || @spacejellyyfish || @traderjoesmitten || @hopeandbelieve5 || @avatarrey42 || @shipperstories || @rbf-lesbian || @itsgalaxy29 || @cxrus-kippen || @janky-snorpion ||

If you would like to be tagged in future one shots let me know! Same foes for anyone wanting to be removed from the list :) 

#tyrus #tyrus au #tyrus fic #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #andi mack

[nevermindthewind]

the question queen

shoutout to @fourdrinkamy for helping me come up with this idea and for being my fave hype girl, @amyscascadingtabs for the constant support and encouragement, and to everyone else who’s let me yell about this fic for the past three weeks. I love y’all sm <3

Zoey Peralta loves to ask alllll the questions. When Amy gets pregnant again, the questions become even more frequent and even more hilarious.

read on ao3 or under the cut.

I.  “Mommy, why won’t you open the door?!”

This is the question Amy is bombarded with not even seconds after entering the bathroom. She had just left Zoey in front of the TV, seemingly entranced by the episode of Paw Patrol currently on the screen in hopes that she could use the bathroom in peace.  

Not entranced enough, apparently.

Dammit.

Really, Amy knows she shouldn’t be complaining. She’s gotten to spend her day off snuggled up with Zoey on the couch, alternating between reading and working on the puzzle sitting half-completed on the coffee table with Paw Patrol on in the background. It’s the type of day she often dreams about when she’s in the midst of a crazy, exhausting case. So, yes, Amy knows how lucky she is.

But she also knows if she hears “Chase is on the case!” one more time she will freaking lose it.

So as soon as Zoey is settled with a bowl of cheez-its Amy slides out of her daughter’s grip and scurries to the bathroom, snagging her purse off the kitchen table as she does so. For the first time in what felt like years she actually turns the lock after closing the bathroom door. Part of her is surprised they still work.

She had just opened her purse and pulled out a small CVS bag when she hears the banging on the door, followed by her daughter’s incessant yelling.

“MOMMY! I said, why won’t you open the door?”

Amy squeezes her eyes shut as her hand freezes inside the bag.

“Baby, Mommy needs a minute to go potty.”

“But why can’t I come in?”

“Because...because I’ve got a surprise for you!” Amy says wildly, internally cursing herself because now she has to figure out a surprise for Zoey on top of everything else.

“Oooh a surprise?! Is it candy? A new binder? GUMMY WORMS?!”

Amy can’t help but smile. Zoey really is such a combination of her parents.

“Go finish your snack and I’ll come show you when I’m done, okay?”

“Okay!”

As soon as she hears Zoey pitter patter back down the hall she turns her attention back to the bag in her hand. She slides the obnoxious pink package out before plopping herself on the toilet.

It’s a weird feeling, the combination of excitement and dread that courses through her veins as she takes out the pregnancy test. She’s taken what feels like a billion of these at this point and she’s felt pretty much every emotion in the book. This one, though, feels different.

Once Zoey had turned three they’d decided to try for another kid. However it turned out to be much, much easier said than done. After almost a year of trying, three close calls, and one particularly heartbreaking conversation where Amy had admitted to Jake she was convinced the universe didn’t find her worthy of another baby, they’d finally decided to leave it up to fate. It was just too damn hard. They weren’t going to stop trying, but they weren’t going to force it either. If they had another baby, amazing. If not, that’d be okay, too. They already had the most incredible, beautiful daughter. They didn’t need anything else.

That was four months ago.

Fast forward to today. Amy’s period is five days late (which never happens), her boobs hurt like hell, and she hasn’t been able to stop eating for the past 72 hours. All signs that point to her possibly being pregnant.

She wants to be excited, Christ does she want to, but she can’t help the nagging fear telling her it’s going to be negative. There’s no way she’s pregnant.

And yet…

There’s still the tiniest glimmer of hope as she awkwardly places the test between her legs (that part never got any easier either). Maybe this is it. Maybe there’s another Jake-and-Amy combo residing in her belly. Maybe.

Amy’s just placed the test on the counter and set her alarm when she hears Zoey once again trampling down the hall.

“Mommy, the show is done. Are you done with my surprise?” The question is followed by what sounds like Zoey attempting to break apart the door with her own two hands.

Amy winces, eyeing the timer still open on her phone. Two minutes, forty-six seconds.

“Not yet, Zo. I had to order it online.” Again with the lies. Get it together, Amy.

“Oh…” A pause, and then, “Can I come in now? I miss you!”

Amy can’t help but laugh as she stands up to unlock the door. The door swings open to reveal Zoey with her tiny fist up in the air as if ready to strike.  Zoey looks up, her eyes widening with excitement as she sees her mom.

“Finally!” she says dramatically, flinging herself into Amy’s legs. “You were in there forever.”

Amy rolls her eyes as a smile flickers across her face. Since the day she was born Zoey Peralta has always been one for dramatics. “It was only two minutes, Zo.”

Zoey lets go of Amy’s legs and crosses her arms, making her look fourteen instead of four. “Yeah, two whole minutes!”

Amy can tell her daughter is trying to look mad, but her eyes are sparkling and there’s a mischievous grin attempting to show itself beneath the angry facade. It’s a look that screams Jake Peralta and it’s enough to make Amy’s heart burst with (exasperated) affection.

“Well I am very, very sorry.” Amy reaches out and lifts her daughter into the air, rousing a giggle out of Zoey before resting her on her right hip. She kisses Zoey’s forehead, sweeping her brown curls out of her face. “I missed you too, Zo-bug.”

She carries Zoey over to the toilet and sits so she’s straddling her lap, pausing to check the timer. Thirty-three seconds. Oh shit.

“Mommy?”

“Hmm?” Amy snaps back to look at her daughter.

Zoey cocks her head. “Why’s your face all scrunchy? Is something wrong?”

Amy gives Zoey what she hopes is a convincing smile. “No, nothing’s wrong.”

“Then why are we still here?” Zoey asks, wiggling in an attempt to get out of Amy’s grasp. Amy steals another glance at the test. This look does not get past her daughter, who immediately reaches for the counter.  “Ooh what’s that, Mommy?”

It’s all Amy can do not to burst out laughing. Of course Zoey wants to get her hands on a used pregnancy test.

“Well, it’s a test that Mommy took,” she explains, grabbing the stick and shoving it into her pants pocket. She doesn’t look to see the results.

“I love tests!” exclaims Zoey. She turns back to Amy with an inquisitive look. “Can I take one, too?”

Amy snorts before shaking her head. “No, baby. This is a test for Mommies only.”

“Oh. Okay.” Zoey thankfully isn’t too upset she isn’t included in this particular activity. She does, apparently, have more questions. “But why did you take it on the potty?”

Just as Amy’s about to try and explain herself the timer goes off, causing Amy’s brain to officially go into panic mode. This is it, the moment of truth.

But wait -- Should she look with Zoey right there? Part of her wants to, wants her first baby to be there for the moment she becomes a big sister -- or for comfort if she doesn’t. But there’s another part of her that knows if Zoey finds out she will tell Jake, and their parents, and every stranger she meets on the street before Amy even has a chance to open her mouth.

Maybe she should just wait for Jake. He should be home any minute. She can make it til then, right? Right.

Amy lifts Zoey into the air as she rises off the toilet seat and sets her on the ground.

“Alright, Bug. Should we go see what Ryder and the rest of the gang are up to?”

“Yeah! No job is too big, no pup is too — ”

Down the hall they hear the front door click open, followed by a booming voice calling out, “Anybody home?”

“DADDY!” Zoey’s eyes light up before she sprints out of the bathroom and down the hall. “Daddy, you’re home!”

“Hey Zozo!”

Even from her spot in the bathroom Amy can hear Zoey collide with Jake. She giggles to herself as she follows her daughter’s path towards the entryway. Once in the hallway she can see them; Zoey wrapped around Jake’s leg while Jake places his keys on their designated hook.

“How was your day with Mommy?” Jake asks, lifting Zoey into the air. He blows a raspberry on her cheek, causing Zoey to burst into giggles. Amy’s pretty sure it’s scientific fact that Zoey giggles are the cutest sounds in the entire world.

See, they don’t need a second kid. Just look how amazing their first one is.

“Good. We watched Paw Patrol and started a puzzle,” says Zoey, now clinging to Jake’s neck.

Jake’s eyes light up in over-the-top excitement. “No way! You’ll have to show it to me.”

“Okay. Mommy helped but I did most of it,” Zoey adds proudly.

“Yeah she did,” Amy confirms, smiling as she reaches the two of them. “Hi there.”

Jake returns her exhausted smile with one of his own before kissing her gently on the lips. “Hi.”

“Guess what, Daddy?” Zoey pipes up, inserting herself right between her parents. Jake and Amy snicker at each other. God forbid there be a single moment where Zoey isn’t the center of their attention.

“What?”

“Mommy took a test today for Mommies in the bathroom. Isn’t that a funny place for a test?”

Jake’s eyebrows as shoot up while Amy closes her eyes. This was so not how she wanted him to find out.

If there even is anything to find out.

Amy opens her eyes to see Jake looking right at her. She can see the gears in his head turning, quickly putting two and two together. He tilts his head slightly, as if looking for a confirmation.

“Oh really?” His question is directed at Amy. She nods, feeling a blush spread down her neck and cheeks.

“Question Queen over here caught me just as I’d finished taking it.”

“Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool.” Jake lets out a nervous laugh. The corners of his mouth are attempting to smile, but it’s like he’s trying to keep it hidden. Like he’s just as scared as she is.

“And?” he asks in a terrible attempt at being casual. They both know this is anything but casual. “What’d it say?”

“Yeah, did you get all the questions right?” Zoey asks.

“I don’t know,” Amy answers honestly, not taking her eyes off Jake. “We got a little sidetracked.”

“Right.” Jake runs his free hand through his hair.

“I have it here. We should look, right?” Amy asks, slowly reaching her hand down to where the test was currently residing and burning a hole in her pocket. “Get it over with?”

“Sure, yeah, that sounds good,” says Jake, hoisting Zoey over to his other hip. “It’s your call, babe.”

There’s a shift in the air, as if they’ve been suspended in time. Amy grips the test, but freezes just before pulling it out. She doesn’t know if she can do this again, if she can handle another heartbreak.

“Ames?”

Amy looks up to see Jake giving her the sweetest smile with Zoey still tucked into his side.

“It’ll all be okay.”

“Yeah, Mommy!” Zoey adds with a toothy grin of her own. She doesn’t have the slightest idea what her parents are talking about, but both her and Jake’s encouragements are all Amy needs to take the test out of her pocket.

They will be okay. Baby or not, they will all be okay.

She gives them a nod and a tiny smile, takes a deep breath, and finally flips the test over.

“Oh my god.”

A gasp escapes from the back of her throat. She brings her hand to her mouth.

“Ames, what’s it say?”

“Did you get the questions right?”

Amy can’t speak, she can barely breathe as she holds up the test for Jake to see.

A dark pink plus sign.

Turns out Zoey’s getting a surprise after all.

—

II. “How’d the baby get in your tummy?”

In retrospect, Amy probably should have seen this coming.

As soon as they found out Amy was pregnant, both Jake and Amy had been researching ways to make the pregnancy less confusing for her and to prepare her for having a little brother or sister. They’d spent hours scouring the internet and talked to the Sarge and probably bought WAY too many books about the subject.

One thing Terry had suggested was using a doppler to hear the baby’s heartbeat. Apparently he and Sharon did that with the twins before Ava was born and they thought it was the coolest thing ever. They’d even let the girls take turns using the wand, following the baby around as she moved. So last night Jake had rummaged through their closet and dug out the doppler they’d bought when Amy was pregnant with Zoey.  Amy, on the other hand, read through the Zoey tab on the pregnancy binder for the thousandth time.

It’s a win-win really and honestly, she’s surprised she didn’t think of this sooner. They hadn’t heard the heartbeat in a few weeks, and Amy already misses hearing it. Even though she’s showing now, she still wants — no, needs that extra reminder that her baby is there, that this is really happening. Sometimes she still has trouble believing it.

So now here they are; Amy’s propped up on the bed with her (Jake’s) t-shirt pulled up and gel all over her belly while Jake sits with Zoey in his lap, the doppler ready to go in between them.

“Alright. You ready for this, Bug?” Jake asks.

“Uh-huh.” Zoey starts to nod then stops herself. “Ready for what?”

Jake and Amy lock eyes and smirk to themselves. Their daughter, they’ve realized, has inherited her father’s goldfish brain.

“To hear the baby’s heartbeat,” Amy reminds her gently. She places her hand on the machine. “Remember? We’re gonna use the doppler so you can hear its heartbeat from inside my tummy.”

“We did this all the time when you were in there,” adds Jake. Zoey looks up at him with raised eyebrows.

“You did?”

“Oh yeah,” says Amy with an exaggerated nod. “We listened to your heartbeat all the time. In fact, it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. Until I heard you cry.” She reaches over and pokes Zoey’s belly, causing her to break into giggles. “And heard you laugh.”

“Silly Mommy,” says Zoey, still giggling. “Heartbeats aren’t beautiful! And neither is crying. Crying is so annoying.”

Annoying is Zoey’s new favorite word. Everything is annoying these days.

“Maybe most crying is annoying,” says Amy. “But hearing you cry when you were born was the least annoying, most amazing thing in the entire world.”

“Okay…” Zoey says, clearly unconvinced. However she moves on rather quickly, now turning her attention back to the doppler. “How does it work?”

“How about we show you?” Jake asks in reply. “Give me your hand.”

Zoey obliges, extending her arm out towards Jake. Jake, in turn, places the doppler wand in her hand before wrapping his own hand around hers. He guides the wand towards Amy’s belly and helps Zoey place it just below her belly button.

“What is this, Daddy?” Zoey asks. Her eyes are still trained on the doppler wand in front of her.

“This,” Jake starts dramatically, “Is a magic wand.”

“For realz?” Zoey’s eyes are wide as saucers. Jake nods, his eyes matching his daughter’s intensity.

“For realz. It sends a special message into Mommy’s belly and then plays the baby’s heartbeat into this little speaker.”

Part of Amy wants to interrupt, to give Zoey a more accurate depiction of what’s happening -- that’s what all the books say to do and it’s in subsection five of the Zoey tab.  But as she listens to the two of them talk about magic and how the gel on her skin is actually a secret potion, she can’t bring herself to do it. Zoey’s completely enamoured. Her gaze keeps switching from Jake to the doppler to Amy’s belly with infectious excitement. It’s the most she’s really engaged with the baby since they first explained the pregnancy.  How could she interrupt?

“How are we gonna find the heartbeat?” Zoey asks after Jake’s done explaining.

“Well, first we need to turn on the machine,” says Jake. He looks up at Amy. “Mommy, will you do the honors?”

Amy grins. “Of course.”

She reaches over and flicks the switch, and instantly a static noise fills the air

“Is that it?!” Zoey asks, already excited. “Is that the heartbeat?”

Jake shakes his head.

“Not yet,” he says gently. Using his hand to guide Zoey’s, the two of them begin to move the doppler across her stomach. “Now we have to find it. It’s like a treasure hunt.”

“It’ll sound different, Zo. Kind of like a galloping horse,” Amy adds. “That’s how Abuela always described it to me.”

“Like this?” Zoey beings clicking her tongue, jumping up and down in Jake’s lap in what Amy assumes is a horse impression. She gets so into it she almost throws Jake off the bed.

“Easy, cowgirl!” Jake grabs the headboard and pulls himself back towards the middle of the bed so his knee is bumping against Amy’s side.

“Yep, kinda like that,” Amy says with a giggle.

It takes them another minute or so to find the baby, specifically the heartbeat.  She knows they found it a second before Jake does. It’s fast -- very similar to Zoey’s horse impression if she’s being honest -- and absolutely breathtaking. Amy’s never been as into music as Jake, but this? This is music to her ears.

“There you are,” she whispers. One corner of her mouth curls into a smile as she instinctively brings a hand to her belly and raps her fingers against the bump. She’s almost immediately rewarded with a nudge under her hand. It’s too early to feel it from the outside, making it all the more special. Right now the kicks are just for her, her own secret code with her littlest baby. “You’re excited too, aren’t you?” Another nudge. “That’s what I thought.”

Next to her she can hear Jake talking Zoey through the whole experience.

“You hear that, Zo? That’s the heartbeat. That’s your little sister,” he says. His voice is soft, almost reverent. His hand is still wrapped around Zoey’s as they continue to press the doppler onto Amy’s belly.

“Wow…” says Zoey, clearly in awe.

“I know, isn’t that awesome?”

“Yeah, so awes -- Hey! Where’d it go?”

Static replaces the heartbeat, causing both Amy and Zoey to look up at Jake with identical annoyed expressions.

“Hold on, ladies. Give me a second. She must be moving around in there,” Jake explains, bringing his attention back to the doppler. “We have to move the wand around a bit so we can find her again, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

It doesn’t take them long to find it again, the familiar whoosh once again filling up the room within a minute or so. Amy can hear Zoey firing off more questions, to which Jake gives a multitude of answers. She probably should be paying more attention, but it’s just so hard to focus on anything other than the heartbeat and the little kicks she’s getting to her side.

However there is one question that manages to bring her out of her trance real quick.

“How’d the baby get in your tummy?”

The room falls silent as Jake lets go of the doppler, letting it fall onto the bed with a soft thump.

Amy snaps her head up to see Zoey looking right at her, her eyes furrowed with curiosity. She’s seen that look hundreds of times; it’s the same look Jake gets when he’s thinking through all the possible outcomes of a case.

“Mommy?” Zoey asks again. Her eyes flicker between Amy’s eyes and her belly. “How’d the baby get in there?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…”

For all of the binders and all of the tabs she’s created for this pregnancy and how to explain it to Zoey, Amy never even thought about making one for this particular question.

Rookie mistake.

Amy looks up from her daughter to Jake, who’s just as shocked as she is. Amy raises her eyebrows, hoping he would have some brilliant idea for how to answer their daughter’s latest question.  He merely scrunches his face up with an alarmed shake of the head.

“Well,” Amy starts, “Mommies grow babies in their tummies.”

“I know that,” huffs Zoey. “But how did it get inside?”

“It’s -- uh, well it’s kinda like…”

“Like what?”

Amy shoots Jake another panicked look, trying to telepathically get him to step in. Thankfully he seems to get the message.

“It’s magic, Zo,” he explains, pulling something out of his ass based on his wild expression. “Yeah! When two people love each other a magic spell gets placed on them and it takes part of the mommy and part of the daddy and puts them together in the mommy’s tummy. Then it grows and grows until it’s a baby and it’s ready to come out. How cool is that?!”

“Yeah that is kinda cool,” Zoey says thoughtfully. She’s quiet for a second, then, “Will I have a baby in my tummy?”

“If you want to, baby,” Amy says, pursing her lips as she tries not to laugh at Jake’s terrified expression. “But not for a long, long time,” she adds.

Zoey furrows her eyebrows before nodding. “Okay. Can I hear the heartbeat again?”

“Yes!” Jake exclaims a little too quickly as he fumbles for the doppler. Amy covers her mouth to hide her giggles, which earns her a flick to the shoulder. “Rude,” he mouths.

“You love me,” she shoots back.

She expects some snappy comeback, but as always Jake continues to surprise her. He leans over, catching her lips in the softest kiss.

“Yes I do.”

—

Later on after Zoey’s had her fill of the baby she decides to go play in her room, leaving Jake and Amy alone.

“So magic, huh?” Amy asks at once, giving Jake an amused smirk. “Did our Hogwarts letters just get lost in the mail, or…?”

“Hey, I didn’t hear you coming up with better!” Jake says defensively. “Besides, at least she bought it. Now hopefully she won’t ask about it again for a while.”

“That’s true…” she trails off before letting out a groan. “God, our daughter is too curious for her own good.”

“And just think, soon there will be two of them,” says Jake, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Amy can’t help but melt as he lowers himself down so he’s laying on his side, propping his head on his hand. “I love you, baby girl.”

Amy feels the slightest nudge right as Jake places his other hand on the swell of her stomach. Based on Jake’s non-existent reaction, the kick isn’t strong enough to be felt on the outside. Usually she tells Jake when the baby moves, but this one she decides to keep to herself. It won’t be long until the kicks aren’t just for her. For now she’d rather keep it that way. Instead she runs her hand through the curls at the nape of Jake’s neck, relishing the rare moment of tranquility as Jake continues to trace patterns all across her stomach.

It’s Jake who finally breaks the silence.

“Wanna listen to her heartbeat again without a four-year-old asking a billion questions?”

Amy grins. “Oh you know it.”

----

III. “Is this my baby?”

Amy is nervous.

Well, she’s a multitude of things. She’s tired and sore and excited and terrified and so, so, so deliriously happy. But right now, she’s mostly nervous.

It’s not that she thinks anything bad will happen. They’ve been preparing for this. Not to mention Zoey’s been asking everyday for the past month when the baby will get here. She’s constantly been telling both her parents -- and everyone else she knows for that matter -- all the things she wants to do with her baby sister when she gets here. They’re gonna play Ninja Turtles, watch Moana, read all her favorite books, you name it. Amy and Jake have tried explaining that the baby won’t be able to play for a little bit, but Zoey doesn’t seem to care. She’s just too excited. She even made a little to-do list of all the activities. Granted, it’s a piece of paper with a bunch of colored squiggles, but still. The point is, the girl’s excited to have a little sister.

So really Amy shouldn’t be nervous at all. They’re ready for this.

But still, there’s a part of her that remembers the horror stories she’s read about where the older kid threw a tantrum when they realized they weren’t the only child getting mom and dad’s attention. It’s that very thought that’s been running through her head since Jake left to pick up Zoey from his mom’s. What if that’s Zoey’s reaction? What if she hates her sister?

The tiniest movement from the hours old bundle in her arms grabs Amy’s attention. Her gaze is brought back to her daughter, who’s face scrunches up before stretching into the most adorable yawn.

Amy can feel her heart exploding into a million little pieces. God, her daughter is breathtaking.

How could anyone hate her?!

Truth be told, there’d been a tiny part of her that was worried she wouldn’t love this baby as much as she loves Zoey. It was a fear she never voiced, not even to Jake. She didn’t want anyone thinking she was going to be a terrible mother, or that she’d already somehow picked a favorite child.  But sitting here in her hospital bed with their beautiful baby who has the darkest hair and tiniest nose she can feel all those fears disappear.

“Because I love you so much, yes I do,” Amy whispers, bringing the baby up to eye level. She closes her eyes and plants the softest kiss on her daughter’s forehead. “You beautiful, beautiful girl.”

The baby blinks before looking right back at Amy and she thinks there’s no question who’s eyes she inherited.

Jake had put it best before he left to pick up Zoey.  

“She’s like an opposite Harry Potter, babe! Looks just like her mom except her eyes. Pretty sure those are mine.”

“He’s right, you know,” Amy says, kissing the baby’s cheek this time before tucking her back into her arms. She runs a finger over her cheek. “Your dad is actually right a lot of the time, but we don’t tell him that. Can’t have him getting cocky.”

Her phone buzzes on her bedside table.

“I bet I know who that is,” Amy sings as she picks up the phone to check her texts. Sure enough, she’s right. She types up a quick response before turning her attention back to her daughter. “Your daddy and sister are on their way up. Zoey’s so excited to meet you. Although, you might want to clear your schedule. It sounds like she’s going to be keeping you pretty busy,” she jokes.

The baby lets out a tiny squeal.

“I know!” Amy exclaims softly. “You two are gonna have so much fun.”

With her free hand she grabs the plastic bassinet over to her side before gently lowering the baby onto the bedding. She doesn’t want Zoey to feel threatened, so she’s decided open arms would be her best option. Besides, she needs her hands to be free so she properly hug her firstborn; it’s only been 24 hours but she misses her question queen so much it hurts.

While she waits for the other half of her family to arrive, Amy takes the opportunity to study her daughter‘s features. Looks wise the girls are pretty similar, but there are a few differences she’s picked up on; they share the same chin and eyes and they both have the Santiago nose, but while Zoey has her dad’s mouth and hair color, their newest addition definitely favored Amy. And while she’s only been in the world for eight hours, this little girl is proving to be much more, well, chill than their eldest.

Although that could be because of the fact that she was born right on schedule on a sunny morning in July rather than almost three weeks early in the middle of a Halloween Heist.

“But who’s to say. Right, cutie?” Amy coos, running a finger over the baby’s fine, dark hair.

A quiet knock on the door echoes through the quiet hospital room, causing Amy’s grip on the bassinet to tighten. She doesn’t have time to even invite them in before the door bursts open.

“MOMMY!!!”

Zoey races into the room wearing the “World’s Best Big Sister” shirt they’d bought for her a couple months ago followed by a slightly frazzled Jake. His hair is still stuck up in a million directions and Amy’s pretty sure his shirt’s on backwards, making him look just as exhausted as she feels.

“Zoey, remember what we talked about?” Jake asks softly, causing Zoey to stop in her tracks in the middle of the room. “We need to be gentle, okay?”

“Oh yeah. Sorry.” Zoey drops her voice to a whisper before continuing to inch towards the bed. She gives Amy a toothy grin. “Hi Mommy.”

“Hey, Zo-bug,” says Amy, returning her daughter’s smile. She pats the spot to her left and Zoey immediately climbs up and curls into Amy’s side. “How was your night at Nana’s?”

“Good,” Zoey replies, her voice muffled by the hospital gown and her mom’s side. “We had ice cream with oreos in it.”

“Ooh that sounds so yummy. Maybe we should get some of that for our apartment,” Amy says, brushing a hand through one of Zoey’s curly pigtails. “Did Daddy do your hair?”

But Amy’s question goes unanswered, as Zoey is now looking curiously at the bassinet, or rather the tiny bundle inside the bassinet. Amy smiles up at Jake, who returns it with an excited grin of his own.  He’s got his phone out, already taking copious amounts of photos.

“What do you see?” Amy murmurs into her daughter’s ear.

In true Zoey fashion, she answers with a question. It is officially the cutest, best question she’s ever asked.

“Is that my baby?”

Amy lets out a soft laugh. “Yeah, Zo, that’s your baby sister. That’s Sarah. Sarah Grace Peralta.”

“Oh.” Zoey’s still mesmerized. She sits up so she’s no longer in Amy’s arms and reaches out, pressing a finger against the plastic. “Hi, Sarah.”

Sarah flails her arm free from her swaddler.

“Look, Bug! She’s waving at you,” says Jake. Out of the corner of her eye Amy can see him moving closer, taking a spot on the couch to get a better view.

“Yeah…” Zoey trails off before looking up at Amy. “Can I hold her?”

“Of course,” says Amy. She sits up and carefully lifts Sarah into her arms before looking up at Jake. “You wanna grab the hand sanitizer from my bag?”

“Oh yeah.” Jake jumps from his spot and sifts through Amy’s overnight bag before pulling out the giant bottle of Purell she’d bought a few weeks ago. He sits down on the bed and pours a dollop into his hand. “Come here, Zo. Let’s get your hands squeaky clean.”

“Why?”

“Because Sarah hasn’t had time to get used to germs like we have. So we want to make sure she doesn’t get sick,” he explains.

“Oh okay,” says Zoey, holding her hands out for Jake. “Kinda like when we go to your work? There are germs there too, right Mommy?”

“Exactly,” says Amy with a nod. “Now, how about you go sit in Daddy’s lap and he’ll help you hold the baby?”

Zoey nods fervently, scrambling across the bed and plopping herself onto Jake’s legs. “I’m ready!” she announces.

Amy bites her lip as she smiles back at her daughter. She can already feel the tears forming and Zoey hasn’t even held her yet. But seeing Zoey so excited and watching Jake help her hold her arms the right way is just too much for her hormonal brain to handle.

“Okay, baby. Here you go. Be gentle, okay?” Amy carefully places Sarah in Jake and Zoey’s arms, making sure her head was supported by Jake.

Zoey is silent, her eyes growing wide as she felt the baby’s weight in her arms. She’s more still than she’s been in months, which honestly is freaking Amy out. Zoey is never this quiet. Is something wrong? Does she already hate her? What could possibly be going through her daughter’s brain right now?!

Jake, on the other hand, is completely calm.

“She’s cute, isn’t she?” he asks, his voice low, steady.

“Mmhm,” Zoey says. She doesn’t take her eyes off the baby. “She’s so cute.”

Jake smiles, leaning down to nuzzle the top of Zoey’s head with his cheek. “You’re doing so well, Zo. You wanna give your baby a kiss?”

Zoey nods, slowly leaning down and planting the softest kiss on Sarah’s cheek.

Oh god, if Amy wasn’t crying before she definitely is now. This is better than anything she could’ve imagined. Her three favorite people are loving on each other and being so sweet it actually hurts her heart. It’s so pure, so warm. It’s better than anything she could have possibly imagined. She’s honestly surprised she hasn’t completely melted into a puddle in the middle of her bed.

While Jake and Zoey keep fawning over Sarah, Amy reaches over and grabs both her phone and a box of tissues off the table. She hastily wipes at her eyes before snapping picture after picture, hoping at least one of them turns out. Jake’s going to want to remember this. Hell, she’s gonna wanna remember this.

At one point Jake looks up and makes eye contact with Amy, and that’s when she sees he’s been crying too. Amy cocks her head, wanting to make sure he’s okay. Jake nods back, his eyes shining.

“Just happy,” he mouths.

She juts her lip out. “Love you,” she whispers. Because she does. She loves Jake Peralta with all her heart.

He grins, biting his lower lip. “Love you too.”

Not to be outdone, Zoey looks up to see where her dad’s attention has gone.

“Mommy, why you crying?” she asks, looking alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

Amy laughs, wiping at her eyes again. “Oh nothing, baby. These are happy tears.” She reaches out and runs a hand down Zoey’s arm and squeezing her hand. “I just love you and your baby sister so much.”

“I love you too, Mommy,” says Zoey. She gives Sarah another kiss. “And I love my baby.”

And that’s how Amy Santiago-Peralta died.

Just kidding. She doesn’t die.

She does, however, go through a whole box of tissues as Sarah gets passed from Zoey to Jake and back to her. Zoey’s never far from her sister, always wanting to hold her hand or give her a kiss.

Between Amy and Jake they take almost a hundred photos, and Amy already has one of them picked out as her new desk photo (Holt says to not keep photos on your desk but she can’t help it, she likes to see her daughter -- no, daughters -- faces while she works). It’s a selfie Jake took. He’s smiling his softest, close-lipped smile with Zoey in his lap, not looking at the camera but at Sarah. The baby is fast asleep in Amy’s arms, and Amy herself is smiling so wide you can see her molars if you look hard enough. It’s not a perfect photo -- Zoey’s a little blurry and the bags under Amy’s eyes wouldn’t fit in the overhead compartment of an airplane -- but it’s perfect to her.

It’s her family.

#ITS DONE #G'BLESS #peraltiago #peraltiago fic #jake x amy #jake peralta #amy santiago

[spencer-quinn]

Why can't I be you? | Self para

Enjoy Spencer going from sad boy to ‘manic-depressive-master-manipulator’ in the space of 8 years. Couldn’t date this but it starts in 2000 and ends in 2008. Thought it was time I retold this fucked up story 🙃

He remembers finding out that Daniel had a brother.

It’s a few days after Spencer’s seventh birthday and Dan’s being particularly cold. He knows that teenagers get this way sometimes, but today they’re all walking on eggshells and Spencer doesn’t know why.

He says, “maybe this will help,” as he hands over a napkin containing one of the left over slices of his birthday cake, and Dan snatches it without a word.

Their mother stands in the doorway in her dressing gown, arms crossed as she observes. “Say thank you, Daniel,” she says. It’s not a command really, just a gentle reminder.

Dan just grunts and drops onto a dining chair before he takes a bite. Spencer is looking between Dan and his mom cautiously, not quite sure if he should say ‘it doesn’t matter’ or let his mom teach Dan his manners. Spencer’s noticed that he struggles with those some of the time.

“Dan. Say thank you to your brother.” Still no response. “Daniel.”

“He’s not my brother!”

Spencer jumps in his spot. Suddenly he feels embarrassed as he looks towards his mother again for help. He’s not sure exactly what he wants help with, but he doesn’t know how to respond either. Or if he’s allowed to.

He’s taken aback by the remark - even though, in all the years he’s known Dan, he’s always had little patience towards Spencer anyway. Spencer’s not even sure they’ve had more than a handful of pleasant conversations.

Dan gets mad when Spencer nags their mom too much and he’ll will never forget that one time his dad asked if he wanted to tag along for their weekly fishing trip and Dan went berserk. He says that Spencer is “a needy, spoilt brat that gets all of the attention.” Well, he only said it once, but that’s the only time he actually explained why he was mad at him other than “you’re annoying,” so it’s sort of all he’s working with. Spencer always tries to bare it in mind, but he’s not sure Dan would like him much anyway.

Now though, in the kitchen, Daniel’s outburst still has him shaken. It feels sort of like rejection.

Spencer is sent into the other room which he thinks is unfair at first because he didn’t do anything wrong. But a short while later he hears the muffled sobs of his brother (not-brother) coming from the kitchen and he’s glad to have left.

Later on, his mother sits on the edge of his bed and says, “Dan just misses his brother. I know it’s hard to understand, but it’s even harder for him. Okay?”

Spencer nods but he thinks ‘no, not okay’ because he’s not sure he even knew that Dan had a brother. “He won’t see him for a while now, so we’ll all need to be extra kind to him. I know you can do that.”

Spencer knows he can too, but the next few weeks are rough. He tries extra hard to be kind to his brother. He even leaves a note under his pillow one night, all about how great of a brother he is; you’re a good brother because you always finish my dinner and you make funny jokes. I like all of your shoes even though they’re too big for me. You are very tanned and also you have a nice bedroom even if it’s messy. - Or something to the same effect.

Dan says “stay out of my room and away from me.”

Spencer decides it’s best to just give him what he wants after that.

He’s still not sure why Jacob moved away when Dan was thirteen. They used to see each other all the time until then, apparently, but Spencer didn’t learn any of this until much later on. His younger self had no idea that Jacob was any more than a friend. He supposes that explains why Dan never let Spencer meet him. Dan doesn’t like to talk to him about Jacob because he likes to keep him just for himself, but sometimes lets things slip. 

He remembers one night that same year, listening into Dan’s room at 3am as he mutters into his phone, drunk after sneaking in through the back door to dodge the burglar alarm.

He hears “Jake it’s me,” in a hushed breath and something along the lines of “I just was telling a girl about you and — woops. At a party and we— She thinks you sound so cool. She… And I was telling her about you and the time we buried all of that booze in the back yard.” He laughs into the phone, and Spencer hears it fade into a sigh. “I’ve been missing you so you should call me back in the morning. Maybe you can meet my friends. They think you sound cool too. D’you remember that time we…”

Spencer goes back to his own room. His chest aches.

Spencer thinks he understands how Dan feels, about wanting to keep his old family separate from his new one, because Spencer wishes he could keep Dan all to himself. Maybe it’s because they’ve never been close, or maybe it’s because he’s never had a brother, but knowing that Dan has a separate life with Jacob makes his skin burn.

Spencer just wants to be Dan’s favourite person, he thinks. He told Dan that he was his once, but Dan just said, “that’s like me saying my favourite person is Marcia from The Brady Bunch.”

“You love the Brady bunch.”

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean I know anything about them and it certainly doesn’t mean they give a damn about me.”

He wonders if Jacob tries as hard as he does.

The morning after Dan’s drunken phone call, Spencer asks, “can I hang out with your friends some time?”

His brother says no. “They’d think you were lame,” he adds as he rubs his temples.

Spencer recovered quickly. “They don’t even know me.”

“Trust me, they’ve heard enough.”

Now it’s the summer of the same year and they’re sat in the garden on deckchairs. Spencer’s eyes itch but he wants to stay outside because… Well he’s not really sure why.

Dan’s been on the phone for almost an hour. He acts as if Spencer isn’t there, just like usual, as he grumbles “yeah, I was hoping for some peace and quiet but the saint followed me out,” and then laughs at whatever Jacob says in reply.

Spencer just stays quiet, scrapes the last of the ice cream from his bowl.

Spencer’s learnt now that Dan’s angle on him won’t change. The realisation happened so fast that he’s not even sure when it did, but somewhere along the line, Spencer stopped caring. Just woke up one morning and thought enough is enough.

Somewhere in the pit of his stomach there’s a dark space, made empty just for any speck of hope -a just in case space- but he barely even feels it anymore. He’s had his fair share of outbursts now, towards Dan particularly, and he understands what it’s like to want to be alone while feeling scolded by absence.

When Dan does finally hang up, his ice cream is more like a milkshake. He complains about this and when Spencer grumbles that it’s his own fault, Dan says, “can’t you just go sit inside? I came out here to be alone.”

“Why don’t you like me?” It leaves his mouth before it even enters his brain, it seems, because he’s positive he wasn’t thinking it. Positive he doesn’t actually care.

Dan shrugs at first, poking at his melted ice cream. “Why do you need me to?”

“You’re my brother.”

“Is that what you think?” Spencer shrugs in response. Is that what he thinks? He’s not sure just lately. “You’re so clueless.”

“Dan.”

He’s not sure he hears him at first, too scared to raise his voice in fear of waking their parents or--... It’s a few nights before New Year’s eve and they’re all staying at their dad’s best friend’s house. Mr Shaw has been lonely since his divorce -that’s what Spencer’s dad had said- so it’s nice to be with him as they enter 2008.

Mr Shaw is fine. Spencer’s not quite as comfortable around him as he used to be, but he doesn’t see him as often these days, so it can’t be helped. Mr Shaw talks to Spencer like they’re school buddies; he likes to ask about relationships and how Spencer dresses and if it gets him much luck with the girls at school. He thinks Spencer looks and acts mature for his age, and he asks to be called Oliver because they’re pals. It feels forced for Spencer to call him by his first name, though. A little unnatural.

He kissed him.

In his room, with everybody else sleeping at the other end of the hall. Oliver slipped into his room and they laughed about something that Spencer can’t remember now and then Oliver kissed him. Or someone kissed someone. Did Spencer kiss him?

He doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

He nudges his brother were he sleeps, next door to their parents’ room, on the other side of the house.

“What?” Dan’s all groggy as he rubs his head. “Get outa here.”

He did this last night too. Last night he was scared of the sounds in the corridor.

“I heard a noise again. You must be right; this place is haunted,” Spencer half-lies as he fidgets on his feet beside the bed.

Tonight every creak and groan in the house sounds suspiciously like footsteps crossing the space between Mr Shaw’s room and his own. An hour of waiting for the man to open his bedroom door was enough for Spencer to wanna leave the room.

“Are you sure you’re not just hearing things?” Dan asks as he pulls his sheets back and lets Spencer crawl into bed beside him. “Y’know I was only kidding, right?”

“I don’t like it,” he mutters and reaches behind himself to grab for Dan’s arm, to pull it around himself.

“Your room?” Dan huffs. “Fine. You can sleep here until we leave, but–”

“The house. I want to go home.”

His brother breaths out a laugh against the back of his neck before he pulls his arm away, turning over like he had the night before. “He’s a good guy, Spencer.”

That’s about as far as Dan’s comforting goes. Spencer continues to sleep in his bed but few words are exchanged within the room after that night. In the day time, Dan hates him just as much as always. Especially when he loses signal and is forced to acknowledge his company.

Spence tries not to cling to the time they spend together at night, when Dan falls deep enough into his sleep that Spencer pressing his forehead to his back doesn’t stir him.

When they get home, Spencer tries to crawl into his bed there too. Maybe that’s something that Dan’s not reserved for Jacob.

Dan tells him to grow up and sleep in his own room. That’s the end of that.

“What do you mean he was older? Do I know him? Is it—“

“Stop asking questions.” Spencer’s eyes are glued to the blanket in his lap, legs crossed on his bed as he leans against the wall that it stretches along. “Why do you even care, Dan? You never cared before.”

“You were having a panic attack.”

Spencer doubles over to drop his face into his hands. “I was not.” Was he? “I was just freaking out,” he mumbles into his palms as he feels Dan lean back beside him.

“So why did you do it?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to. He wanted to. Get out of my-”

“Spencer, you’re fourteen.” Dan nudges him, unconvinced that he has his attention. “What does older mean?”

He drags his hands over his face, rubs his eyes. He feels claustrophobic. Overwhelmed. “Late twenties,” he admits, and Dan’s face softens in some kind of relief, but then shifts back into a frown as it processes. “But he’s— He’s alright. Nice. He likes me, says we should hang out more. He isn’t some kind of—“

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Dan cuts him off, and Spencer stays silent after that, not really sure what he expected. He doesn’t want to say anything else anyway and is prepared to ask Dan to leave again when his brother wraps an arm over his shoulders and pulls him to his side. “Next time, you come to me. We’ll talk about it. You’re more transparent than you think, Spencer.”

Dan smacks the back of his head just in case Spencer forgot they hated each other.

“Sometimes he tells me I worry him, but he looks at me like I make him sick.”

Spencer’s therapist has a new chair and it’s real nice. When he leans back the chair moves with him. He’s been bouncing back and forth for twenty minutes now, watching the ceiling throughout their conversation because the eye-contact makes him embarrassed, they’ve learned.

“I’m sure you’re misreading him,” she says. “It seems like you’ve reached a real turning point with your brother.”

A small laugh escapes him. He’s not quite sure they’re brothers just yet. He used to use that word so easily. Now it sticks out of every sentence it finds itself in, like it doesn’t quite fit. He tells people about his brother sometimes and it feels like he’s telling a white lie.

In church, back when Spencer was younger -too young to sit in the canteen with the adults but too young to play with the other kids- he’d get stuck with a hand full of boys and girls his own age. They’d all mingle and ask questions and feel too care-free to wrap their heads around boundaries and personal space, leaving Spencer feeling awkward in their company - even as he felt desperate to fit in with them. That’s how it feels with Dan these days, and he really fucking hates himself for it. 

He hates that Dan’s affection has come too quickly for him to appreciate it the way he’d always expected himself to.

Sometimes Spencer pushes himself just like he does in most other situations. He sits closer than necessary to his maybe-brother when they’re alone and tells him things he doesn’t feel comfortable sharing with him, because he thinks they might be things normal brothers do.

Sometimes Dan goes as far as to say “I’m glad we had this conversation,” or, “I’m glad we did this,” and it makes Spencer want to cry and he doesn’t know why.

“I wish I knew what changed.”

“Have you had the conversation with Dan?” Sometimes she looks genuinely interested - not the kind of hyper-intrigue that gives away the falseness of it all.

“No. I’m scared of what he’ll say.”

He feels her do that thing she does, where she nods, pretending to take it in when she’s actually trying to figure out what to say next. She settles for, “what is it that you’re worried he’ll say?”

“That he feels sorry for me.”

After that night in his room, Daniel really does feel like a new addition to his life. Like he’d grown up alone, or with a ghost in the room next door to his. He feels like after that night, Dan just… showed up like he’s returned from a war, paranoid and clingy and overprotective.  

Dan doesn’t live at home anymore, but when he visits, Spencer hears him asking his parents if he’s been doing okay. If they’re sure. If he seems happy and if he’s been bringing friends home. He still doesn’t feel like a brother but he doesn’t feel like a friend either. He’s certainly not his enemy anymore.

It feels like his purpose is to be Spencer’s guardian or nothing at all. Like he owes something to him. Spencer wonders what it is that made his ‘not-quite-brother’ feel such guilt.

It’s uncomfortable for a while, after years of the opposite, but Spencer learns to let him be.

There was an incident at school. It was stupid. He hooked up with somebody in the bathroom; a lousy hand-job followed by a threat to keep him quiet. He’s used to it, but today he skipped mass and he feels dirty all over. He’s stood over a sink in the bathroom and he can’t breathe. He’s on the phone to Dan but he can’t even remember calling him. He says, “please, come pick me up,” and Dan tells him he’ll finish work early.

Dan apologises to the woman at the front desk for the short notice, but Spencer “really does need to see a doctor today.” In the car, he hands Spencer the rosary that he never uses, left to gather dust around his rearview mirror. Spencer feels embarrassed but he takes it and Dan says says, “stop doing this to yourself.”

“I’m not doing anything.” He’s long since caught his breath but, as he watches himself in the sun visor mirror, his eyes are bloodshot and the skin around his nose is blotchy and red too. He chews on his nail, flips the visor back up and watches out of the window as Dan pulls out of the parking lot.

“You told me about him. Last week, you said there was a kid at school that’s been messing with you. You said that you know he’d be ‘up for it’ if you-“

“Stop,” Spencer groans and Dan drops his single-handed quotations. “You don’t get it. Nobody speaks to me at this fucking school. Nobody even looks at me unless-”

“Six months ago you’d have killed for that,” and yeah, Spencer can’t argue with that. “Listen. Next time, you come to me, okay?” Spencer’s heard it all before. “This shit gets… destructive. You know that.”

Even now that he cares, Daniel sometimes speaks to Spencer like he can’t stand him.

They fall into a tense silence. Spencer’s holding his breath, because it’s better than breathing loud and fast and pathetic like he was before. It’s also better than saying what’s on his mind; that Dan’s hardly a reliable option when Jacob’s in town, which he has been for two weeks now. He’s moved back, but Spencer only knows because he overheard his mother speaking to Dan over the phone last week.

Dan’s tapping the steering wheel like he has something he wants to say, but he doesn’t until they reach his apartment complex.

The younger of the two is reaching for the door when Day says, “Spencer,” in a tight voice. “Jake’s coming over later.”

Spencer’s stomach turns. Really, he thinks, today of all days? He’d spent the best part of his adolescence desperate to meet the mystery brother, to weigh himself up with the man, see who comes out on top. Now he can’t think of anything worse.

“… So I’ll take you home before he gets here.”

Except that.

“I- I can’t stay?” Dan’s getting rid of him to spend the evening with Jacob. Dan doesn’t want to share whatever he has with his brother with Spencer. Dan doesn’t want Spencer around to ruin the time he gets to spend with him.

“… No, I mean.” He stutters, mouth opening and closing as he swallows each instinct. “Forget it.” He shakes his head. “Sure. Sure you can.”

Two hours later and Spencer’s wearing sweats and t-shirt that are just a little too big and is sat tense on the couch as Dan lets his brother in. He hears a hushed conversation in the hallway. He hears Dan say sorry and a voice he doesn’t recognise reply, “no, man. No, it’s cool.”

He hears rustling -an embrace, maybe- before the two of them enter the room.

Jacob doesn’t look much like the photographs Spencer’s seen. His face isn’t as slim as he’d thought and his hair is shorter. He’s more tanned that Dan, but he isn’t as handsome. He smiles and Spencer’s brain screams bad.

“Spence, this is uh. This is my brother, Jacob,” Dan introduces the man formally. “Jake, this is Spencer...”

Spencer holds his breath. He almost says the words for him; my brother. This is Spencer, my brother. He doesn’t. None of them do.

“Spencer, I’ve heard a lot,” Jake says in a deep voice, still smiling and it all feels so genuine and Spencer hates him.

“You too.” He feels sick. He knows nothing about him, except that he’s just as tall as Dan, has muscles and the same smile. He looks like he could take care of his brother. Dan looks at him like he has.

Spence doesn’t want to think of all the dreadful things Dan’s had to say about him over the years.

“Sorry I’m not very… Put together,” he laughs nervously and is sure to add, “Dan had to lend me some clothes.”

He so badly wants Jake to falter at the fact that Spencer is wearing Dan’s clothes, because that means they’re close and comfortable and Dan takes care of him. That means that they don’t worry about keeping up appearances for each other, because they grew up together so why would they? Dan and Jacob share the same genes but Dan and Spencer share the same clothes and childhood home and love for milkshakes with Funfetti sprinkled in them.

He just says, “don’t worry about it,” and by the time he’s taken a seat in the armchair, Spencer’s considering hitting his head against the bathroom sink or causing a casualty with a kitchen knife or finding the nearest plastic bag to suffocate himself with.

Dan would surely have to ask Jacob to leave.

He’s heard a lot? What has he heard?

He shakes the thought. All of them. Instead, he sits in silence until Dan comes back with a beer for himself and his brother, and a glass of water for Spencer. He and Jake fall into a conversation almost immediately, and Spencer continues to feel as if he’s ready to crawl out of his skin.

He fakes his exhaustion and shuffles up to rest his head on Dan’s shoulder as he mentally estimates the difference in distance between himself and Dan in comparison to Dan and Jake. He wins by at least three feet. Two when Dan pushes him away from his shoulder.

“I think about him in that way sometimes. It’s different, though.”

“Different how?”

Spencer has a new therapist now. He usually has a hard time finding comfort within the pale beige walls, but today he has a lot to say. He’s been looking forward to this session since he failed to say all of the things he wanted to say last time.

“With other people it’s about... Feeling powerful. Brave and exciting. I like feeling like I’m doing something I shouldn’t do or want to do.” Spencer knows she’s heard this before in different words - she’s the one that brought it to his attention in the first place. “With Dan it’s... I want him to want me the most.”

She nods. “Could this be in relation to his brother coming back?”

“Definitely. I know it is. When I think about them together it makes me wanna... Do stupid things to keep his attention.”

“Could you expand on these things?” She’s frowning now. They’ve not touched on this before.

“Sometimes I wonder, ‘if we just did it, would it make me feel the way I’ve wanted to feel with him since… Forever?’ Like if Jake’s gonna be his brother, then I’ll have to be something else, or like, something even more. You know?

“I don’t know. Like… Like just a few weeks ago we were all at Dan’s apartment. They were talking about things I didn’t understand and it was like I wanted to slit my own throat just to get his attention.”

She never takes notes, but she glances at her voice recorder as if making a mental note of it. “And now?”

“And now I just want to be everything to him that Jake isn’t, so there’s no room for anybody else.”

“Would you say that it’s possessive?”

“Yeah. But I think sometimes he feels it too.”

“Come on Spencer. I came here to see you. You don’t have to-“

“As if.” Dan tries to jump in again, but Spencer’s not finished. “I spent over a decade trying to be a brother to you and you gave me nothing. And it finally worked, I thought— I thought we were actually there, but then it only took a year for you to get over it.”

Because he’s moving away. Well, thinking about it, at least. Jacob is bored of Brockton already and Dan says that he is too.

His vision is blurred. Fuck, why is he crying? He doesn’t have time for this, he has places to be. Places being with Oliver in East Bridgewater in less than an hour. He’d told Dan he was spending the night with a friend. Turns out Dan’s not stupid. He is, however, reluctant to allow it.

Perhaps Spencer was being cruel when he let the man’s age slip, not-so-unintentionally.

Spencer’s not entirely sure how the argument came to this, though. He’d made a hasty remark about going somewhere where he doesn’t have to compete for attention. It was petty and Dan was insulted initially. Now though, he’s trying to defend himself. Spencer has a way of making things work like that.

“You know it was hard for me to… To wrap my head around. You don’t know what it’s like to remember a family that you can’t have anymore. You don’t even remember your last name. It was confusing for me. I didn’t think I needed this family, because I already had one. I have one. And I mean, Rosa isn’t... She isn’t what I remembered, but Jake-”

“So it’s just me that’s not enough for you.”

He wonders what the transition was like, going from ‘mom’ to ‘Rosa’ and from ‘Anne’ to ‘mom’.

“No. Spence, no, it’s not like that. You’d do the same.” Even as he defends himself, Dan looks guilty. He shifts on his feet, still stood between Spencer and the door - a rock and a hard place.

“No, I wouldn’t. I don’t need any more than what I have. I’ve been alone all summer. All I needed was my older brother to talk to-”

“So did I!” The man throws his arms in the air in frustration. “Except I didn’t see him for years, Spencer. You have no fucking idea. Where is this coming from?”

He can already feel it happening, though. Dan drifting away as he begins to spend more time with his brother again - his real brother - while they discuss their plans to move away together. And then maybe in a decade or two, he’ll come back and meet with Spencer for coffee, just like he did with Jacob, and they’ll either talk like he never left, or like they’re strangers.

The inside of his cheek stings from biting it to keep his face blank. He releases the flesh in favour of grinding his teeth, shaking his head as he shrugs. “Then go and see him.” Spencer wipes furiously at his eyes as he squares back up to Dan, attempting again to pass him but is stopped by a vice grip on each arm.

“I called Jake. I cancelled. I’m here now.”

“Tell him you changed your mind. Tell him how much you miss him.” Spencer scoffs, but his cheeks are already wet again.

“Stop. Don’t cry.”

His breath is falling in shudders, hands shaking as he pries himself from Dan’s grip. “I feel like I have nobody. Like I’m on my own.” Dan pulls him to his chest as Spencer sputters out, “why do I feel like you’re breaking my heart?”

“I’d do anything for you. What we have, it’s unconditional. I’m not replacing you, just like you didn’t replace him.”

Spencer’s pushes himself away, wiping his eyes again. 

“Why are you being like this?”

“Because you’re all I have,” he sulks, finally slipping past Dan as the man recovers from their embrace. “I don’t have a back-up like you do.”

“Please don’t go with him, Spencer.”

“We’ll I’m not needed here.” Dan tried to find his comeback, but Spencer continues before he does. “I wish you stayed cold.” He’s not sure whether or not he means it.

Even when they finally clicked, their relationship was never a brotherhood. He’d been lying to himself; Spencer knows that. But he always liked to tell himself it was more, that years of distance somehow becoming what they have now is proof of that.

“You said you needed your brother and that’s not me. What am I then? Do I even compare?” He already knows all of the right answers to his questions. Spencer has him in a corner and they both know it. He simply chooses not to respond.

Spencer reaches for the door handle and Dan’s not trying to stop him anymore. It’s full of intention when he says, “he’ll be mad if I’m late,” and Dan tugs him back and presses his lips to Spencer’s. He has a palm against the back of his head as he presses him into the door, and the other hand tangled in Spencer’s collar.

He tugs his hair just enough to keep his attention as he says, “I swear I’ll kill every motherfucker that lays a hand on you,” and the door clicks shut again.

#This para contains so many of my own personal thoughts/feelings/experiences and it's just !!! So important to me #Except those feelings weren't towards my kind-of-brother lmao #para:why cant I be you #para #self para #para:dan #para:past #past #selfpara