#Shin-ah is checking if he's made of cake

[fuyu-mayoi]

Suwon hanging from a dragon's mouth like a salami is the #1 funniest panel in history, nothing can top this sausage. "King" rhymes with "swing".

#Shin-ah is checking if he's made of cake #No dearest He's not he's made of daddy issues #Anyway sw is hot even as a sausage. Like a hot dog #akatsuki no yona #Akayona spoilers #yona of the dawn #suwon #Shin-ah

[wille-zarr]

Auriga Hills: Part One (Javier Peña x f!Reader)  (1930′s AU) (ON HIATUS)

Auriga Hills ~ Part One

masterlist / next part

pairing: javier peña (narcos) x f!reader

warnings: rated M for adult language; violence; smoking; allusions to sex

word count: 3.9k

story summary: 

Javier Peña- brash, arrogant, a real jerk.

And now he’s your damn husband.

Allured by the prospect of mischief and money, you consent to marry Javier Peña to assist him in his undercover mission for justice. You’re only in it for the fun, nothing more, nothing less. But traveling together in close quarters on a train bound for the West Coast comes with some unexpected ramifications- you’re actually beginning to like the damn idiot.

A 1930’s Enemies to Lovers AU

a/n: Train setting? Check. Enemies to lovers? Check. One bed trope? Check. Fake marriage? Hecc yea! Enjoy!

also found on: Ao3

Auriga Hills

Part One:

You’ve had your fair share of near-death experiences, but this one certainly takes the cake-

-Because you’re actually about to die.

Urg!

You wanted a heroic death, a front-page-newspaper-worthy death! Something along the lines of: “Woman Dies Saving Drowning Child!” or “Woman Throws Self in Front of Gun, Saving Pregnant Mother!”

Damn it, “Woman Strangled in Dark Alley!” doesn’t have nearly the same ring.

You continue whispering curses under your breath, leaping over a crate blocking the entrance to a darkness-draped alleyway. Your feet slip as you bolt forward, fighting for just an ounce of traction against the wet, gravel-coated ground. Eyelashes fluttering against the night air hanging thick with the fog rolling in off of the sea, you squint, spying the eerie, deserted docks in the distance.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

You can already see it- your corpse floating face-down in the water.

Oh, there’s no way in hell you’re running down there! You’re not about to hide somewhere so convenient for your killer.

No, if he’s gunna kill you, he’ll have to work to dispose of your body, thank you very much.

Growling through clenched teeth, you spin on the ball of your foot, cutting around the corner of a brick wall as tightly as you can without stumbling. You groan with relief when your feet finally trade the gravel for solid ground, easily doubling your speed with the added traction.

You strain your ears as you bound in between two buildings, listening for that tell-tell crunch of pursuing footfall.

…

Nothing.

You grin.

Tightening your cap against your head, you do not slow down- not even for one instant. You dare not- not until you get to a- ah! There!

You snicker as you bolt towards the abandoned warehouse towering before you, energy returning to you in droves. The building’s nothing but an empty shell now, long since abandoned by the drifters, such as yourself, who once haunted its interior, so it should be safe enough to settle down and hide within.

Home sweet home, baby.

Grinning, you blast the door wide open, storming inside as the noise reverberates throughout the barren building.

“Geez Louise!” You slide to a stop, panting heavily for air. Slapping both hands down against your knees, you whine at the stab, the sting in your side from the exertion of running.

Hell.

You deserved this.

You deserved to have a close call- to have the pants scared off you. Hell, what a sloppy job! You should be ashamed of yourself- you’re more talented than this!

With a heavy, forlorn sigh, you sink down to the ground, pressing your back up against the metal wall of the warehouse, shivering against the chill.

“Damn,” you groan, reaching into your coat to pull out the object responsible for all this bloody trouble.

Your wallet.

Okay, so maybe it’s not exactly your wallet…

It’s a…. borrowed wallet…

Borrowed from someone else’s pocket, that is.

You stare at the worn leather, letting your thumb trace the maker’s mark.

Well, what can you say?

You need the cash more than the man you pickpocketed this from, that’s for certain. He’ll get over it… eventually… If he ever stops searching for you, that is.

Your grin only widens.

With a snort, you paw it open and begin fumbling through the wads of….

…Hundred-dollar bills?

Your eyes blast open.

“Jumpin’ Jahosafat!” you hiss through your teeth, fingers tightening around the wallet. You-you can’t believe your luck!

“Bloody hell!” you gasp, shuffling through the bills, holding them up in the air to get a better look. This-this can’t be real! How many grand is this?

You throw your head back, your sharp bark of laughter bouncing off the thin, metal walls. “Ooooh-boy! Oh, that man wants to murder me right about now, absolutely murder me.” Oh, you wish you could see his face right about now!

Fighting against a fit of giggles bubbling up your throat, you pull out an identification card from the wallet, eager to discover the name and face of the man who’s, no doubt, off somewhere spitting every curse word under the sun at you.

You squint your eyes, attempting to read the card in the dark.

“Javier… Peña…” You pull the identification card further away from your face, trying to angle it just right in the moonlight so you could make out his image.

Two dark, soulful eyes and a moustache glare back at you.

“He looks like a damn grump.” Your grin falls into a frown at the judgement in his frozen stare. You toss the card off to the side. “Glad I stole from him.”

You reach back into the wallet, pulling out-

“Oh!”

Oh….?

Another card? And another… Another… Hell! How many….? All with different names, and-

Your eyes stretch, your stomach squeezes…

An… an ordinary citizen would never have this many… If- if he’s part of the mafia, or a copper, or…or…

Oh shit.

No, no, you’re washing your hands of this- immediately.

You cram the cards back into the wallet, removing the cash and stuffing it in your coat pocket.

“Nope, nope!” you grumble, leaping up to your feet. You spin around, not exactly sure what it is you’re looking for, but- ah, there! An open window, right above your head! And that side of the warehouse boarders the water- perfect!

You hurl your arm back, eager to rid yourself of-

“Throw that and see what happens.”

…oh shit.

You’re dead.

“Turn around.” The voice lowers. “Slowly.”  

…

Rage.

Rage edged in his tone.

Oh, hell.

Oh hell!

Your blood pulses, throbs in your ear. How- how do you get out of this?

You’re going to die you’re going to die you’re going to die.

Shit, shit, shit!

You raise both trembling hands. “Sir- I… There’s been a- a, uh, misunderstanding-” You slowly twist, meeting the two dark orbs of-

Javier Peña.

Or John Buckley.

Or Fred Matthews.

Or- or whatever his real name is.

You blink, refusing to drop his gaze, swallowing back the fear gurgling in the pit of your stomach.

Both of his hands rest calmly on his waist, but there’s nothing calm in his expression. His eyes flash at you, furor radiating off of him in waves.

“Five words.”

His voice is deep, raspy- made all the more terrifying when paired with the searing I’m-going-to-kill-you glare. He rolls his shoulders forward, taking on the presence of an even larger man.

“Give me-” he takes a step forward, his shadow crawling across your face- “my damn wallet.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You lower your brows. “And get the hell out of my house!”

He quirks his brow, watching you with a deepening expression.

Damn it, what are you doing?

“Stop playing games with me, mujer.” Something… dark edges in his tone. He raises a finger, pointing at your hand. “It’s in your fist.”

Your eyes lower.

“Ah, oh my! Thought this was mine!” You toss him a cheeky grin. “No harm done?”

You don’t wait for an answer.

You spin around.

The window.

Arm back- aim-

“Ack!” you squeal, throwing all of your weight at the ground. “Let go of me, you creep!”  You thrust out your feet, aiming over and over and over for his shins, but missing each time.

His grip on your wrist is painful, unforgiving, holding you partially up off the floor.

“You little shit,” he growls, plucking the wallet from your grasp. He frees your wrist, letting you flop back against the floor with a hard oof.

Groaning, you scramble away from him, stumbling up to your feet. “Fuck you!” you shout, launching towards the door.

So close-

A hand slaps on your shoulder- heaves you backwards. “Yipes!” you yelp, stumbling to the ground at the sudden reversal of momentum.

You throw out an elbow, but it lands nowhere.

You squirm- kick-

But then-

Two large hands press your shoulders against the ground-

-you’re pinned.

“Stop fighting,” he hisses in your ear, breath hot against your skin- a faint hint of cigarettes. “And stop yelling.” He reaches down, digging through your coat pockets.

“Why?” you growl, wriggling beneath his weight. “S-so you can kill me without any w-witnesses?”

He doesn’t answer.

You blink.

Oh… not… good.

“W-wait- sir!”

He pulls back, flashing you the wad of cash. “A misunderstanding?”

“Give me that!” you hiss, raising up off the floor. “I need it more than you!” You throw out a hand, but he swiftly pulls it away, tucking the cash within his coat.

He’s up on his feet and stalking away before you can barely think.

“I saw all those cards, Mr. Peña!”

He freezes.

"Give me a hundred, and I’ll… uh, forget what I saw.”

He turns, faces you- but it’s not anger that’s etched on his face.

Amusement.

At you.

He grunts, reaches into his coat-

Your eyes blast open. “Don’t shoot!” You throw your hands in front of you, stumbling back a few steps.

“Relax.” His voice is buttery smooth- almost mocking. He sticks a cigarette in his mouth, lighting it as he watches you, the layer of sweat on his face reflecting against the moonlight.

He puffs on the cigarette, silent.

Staring at you.

Wet curls plastered against his brow.

You raise your chin defiantly. “Don’t think I won’t-”

“As if anyone would listen to a thief.”

You blink.

A small smirk quirks up in the corner of his mouth. He takes another puff of his cigarette, dabbing the ashes off to the side.

“Go home-” he takes a puff of his cigarette- “kid.”

“I told you-” you take a step forward, red flashing in the corner of your vision- “you’re in my home.”

“Here?” His voice deepens, and he throws a glance up, eyeing the hole in the roof of the warehouse.

“Yeah,” you growl through gritted teeth. You cross your arms tightly across your chest. “Don’t pretend you care. You don’t care- care if I’m hungry or cold tonight!” You throw your hand out towards the door. “Just take your money and get the hell away from me.”

The amusement slips from his face, the irritable expression from his identification card swiftly replacing it.

“Goodnight then-” he tosses his cigarette to the ground, putting it out with his heel- “And careful-” his voice lowers, deep, raspy- “who you steal from next.”

 You watch as he slips out the door, stalking beneath the shadows of the buildings lining the docks.

And then-

He’s gone.

Along with the cash-

-Your chance at a new start in life.

Rage explodes behind your eyes.

“ARG!”

You kick at the side of the building, cringing against the jolt of pain that shoots up your leg.

“Damn you, Javier Peña!” you scream into the dark. “And damn your stupid mustache!”

You really hope he heard you.

-------

It was a bad idea to stay in the warehouse for the night. Damn, you forgot how cold it could get by the sea. You can’t stop shivering.

With a pathetic groan, you sit up, eyeing the moon through the window, trying your best to assess what time it could be.

You raise a brow. Maybe… Four o’clock? Five o’clock?

You sigh.

Fine. Whatever.

Guess you’re up for the day.

Leaning down, you dust off your baggy pants, lamenting your current status. Maybe it’s time to jump another train… try a new location.

Tucking your hands in your pockets, you sneer over at the cigarette on the ground, trying to avoid thinking about…. him.

Hell! If it wasn’t for… him, you- you could have used that cash to have a bed tonight- warm food! A… a hot bath!

You groan pathetically, inching the door open. “Oh, curse my bad luck,” you grumble, flopping your head back as you stumble out into the chilly sea breeze. You wish you never held that cash at all if you couldn’t keep it for yourself.

It was all just a cruel joke.

But then again… it was kind of your fault for stealing it to begin with…

Oh, no matter.

Soon, you’ll find a way to get back on your feet. This is all just temp-

“Good morning, Mujer.”

“Yipes!” You all but jump off the dock and into the water. “Wha- oh, you!” Gritting your teeth, you all but growl at him like a feral dog. “What the hell do you want?” Tapping your foot rapidly against the dock, you throw both hands on your hips.

He leans up against the wall of the warehouse, taking another puff of his cigarette. He glances up at the setting moon, utterly unbothered by your anger.

“I have a… proposition for you.” His voice is low, still and calm.

“…What’s this proposition, Mustache?”

“Call me that again-” his voice drops- “and you’re taking a swim.”

You’re almost tempted to test him… almost.

Rolling your eyes, you saunter a few feet closer to him. “What. Do. You. Want?”

His eyes darken- piercing into your own. His raspy voice is all but a hoarse whisper-

“I want you to marry me.”

Silence.

…

You burst into laughter. “Oh- hell! G-good one!” Reaching out, you give him a slap on the arm. “Damn, I’m-”

“One grand, for your trouble.” He takes a puff of his cigarette, his dark gaze holding your own. “And a quick annulment when we get to the West Coast.”

You blink.

“Wait… you’re serious? Actually… serious?”

“I don’t joke, hermosa.” He shifts forward, passing you by as he steps to the edge of the dock. “I’ve… run into a complication.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh, wait a minute, are you a cop?” You run forward to stand beside him, staring up at his face. “A mobster? What exactly am I getting into here?”

He tilts his head, glancing down at your gaping mouth.

“You don’t need to know.”

“Like hell I don’t! I’m getting the hell out of here!”

“Hold on-”

You stare down at his hand clutching your wrist. “Fifteen hundred.” His eyes shift away from your face, his voice… tightening. “I… work for the government, hermosa. That’s all you need to know. My partner… she fell through.”

“You better not tell me she got bumped off, I swear I will-”

"The California Express train leaves today, and I must be on it, with a wife. I’m… out of options.”

Ripping your arm back, you furrow your brows at him. “Then, be on it? I don’t want the money- you’re insane. You don’t need a wife; you need a doctor.”

Spinning around, you begin to rush down the dock.

No amount of money is worth-

“Two grand.”

Freeze.

Slowly, carefully, you turn back around, watching with wide eyes as he saunters towards you.

“Two grand.” He tilts his head. “Two grand. This is…. important, Hermosa.”

“Two… grand?” you whisper, eyes widening. “Jumping Jahosafat, it must be important…”

Tossing the cigarette into the water, he steps right up beside you, hovering over your face.

"Very.”

A small smile tickles the corner of your mouth.

“Three grand.”

“No.”

“Then bye.”

“Wait-”

He growls, rubbing his eyes. “Fine, three grand.”

“And an annulment? Once the train arrives in California?”

He releases a heavy sigh. “Yes.”

Slowly, a grin inches its way across your face.

“Well, Javi-” you slap him against his shoulder- “you just bought yourself a wife.”

His frown only deepens.

“Let’s get one thing clear-” his fingers dig into your upper arm, pulling you into him. “If you break my cover or once- even once- ignore my any of my orders, I will not hesitate to throw you off a moving train.” His voice is cold, hard. You believe his every word. “Are we clear?”

You only sweeten your smile.

“Javi, dear-”

“Don’t call me Javi.”

“Let me make one thing clear-” you stand up on your tiptoes, resting your arm atop his shoulder- “If you touch me- even once- I’ll lob your head off.” You wink. “Are we clear?”

He has the audacity to return your smile.

“Indeed.”

It hits you at once- three grand.

Three grand! You- you can’t believe it! Three grand! And a free trip to California? You- you can maybe open that bakery! Just like Mother’s!

You clasp your hands together, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Damn, three grand!”

"Calm down,” he grumbles, lowering his brow. “We don’t have much time. You’ll need some clothes, I imagine, before we go to the courthouse.”

“Clothes?”

“You can’t wear that-” he motions at your baggy pants and much-too-large coat- “on the California Express.”

“Fine, guess we’re going shopping?”

“You need a bath before I’m taking you in anywhere,” he grumbles under his breath, spinning around on his heel as he stalks away.

“Hey!” you yelp, jogging up behind him. “Excuse me, sir. What exactly are you trying to insinuate?”

“You stink.”

“Of all the nerve!” You stumble over your feet trying to keep pace with his strides. “I’m- I’m not bathing in your hotel room, you peeping tom!”

He stops- you run straight into his back.

“Oof, Javi!”

“We’re going to be married, sharing a train compartment-” he angles his head to the side- “and you’re worried about this?”

Silence.

He has a point.

…Not that you’re going to admit that.

“Javi, I will not, you mustached bastard- what- wait! What are you doing? JAVI!”

He swings you forward- and you flail- off the dock-

-straight into the water below.

“J-Javi!” you shriek, splashing the water around you as you fight to stay afloat.

“You can bathe down there,” he grumbles, amusement lacing his tone, “or you can bathe in my hotel room. Your choice.”

“I- I hate you!”

He has the nerve to grin at you.

-------

You stare at yourself in the mirror.

Hell, you make a real lady. A grin stretches across your face, and you adjust the hat on your head until it’s angled just right.

Yup. A real lady.

Heh.

No one would know the truth.

You gasp at loud rapping on the bathroom door.

“Out. Now,” Javier barks.

“Fine! Fine!” you grumble, gathering up the last of your newly purchased items into your bag.

“Now, Hermosa.”

Flinging the door wide open, you come nose-to-nose with one angry, glaring Javier.

“Javi,” you bark, “Is this any way to treat your soon-to-be wife?” You smirk, spinning around to show off the dress you chose to wear to the courthouse. “How do I look?”

He just… stares at you, eyes darkening as they sweep down your figure. Taking a languid puff of his cigarette, he angles his head to the side.

“Not my type.”

You huff, sneering up at him. “Well, good! You’re ugly too!” You cross your arms tightly across your chest, scowl deepening. “Let’s get our marriage the hell over with.”

A smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s go, Hermosa.”

-------

“What a handsome couple!”

“Who? Us?” You raise an eyebrow at the old woman, a court-assigned witness to your vows. “I mean, I think I’m handsome, but Javi?” You sneak a glance over at him, his back facing you, still engrossed in a conversation with the Judge.

You raise an eyebrow. “I mean, he has a nice ass, I guess.”

“W-what?”

“Nothing!”

“Let’s begin, shall we!”

You turn to find the Judge and Javier both watching you- the Judge beaming ear-to-ear.

With a visible exhale of air, Javier lumbers forward, a neutral- almost bored- expression etched on his face. Reaching out, he takes your hand in his.

“Remember my rule,” you hiss under your breath, “when we’re on that train, keep your paws off of me.”

He tilts his head to the side, lowering his brows at you.

“Do not worry yourself.” He pulls you in closer to whisper in your ear, “I only go for handsome women.”

“Fuck you!” you shriek.

…

The Judge and old woman gape at you.

“Uh, um…”

“That’s how she says, ‘I love you,’” Javier mumbles. “Precious, isn’t it?”

The Judge blinks.

…

“…Dearly beloved, we have gathered here-”

“Just the vows.” Javier tightens his grip on your hand. “We’re in a hurry.”

The Judge’s eyes widen further, and he sneaks a glance over at the old lady-

-She has a hand pressed against her mouth.

“….Right. That’s fine. Uh… read the vows aloud then, and we’ll… finish this up.”

The Judge motions at Javier to begin.

"I, Javier Peña,” he rasps, his voice tightening with each word spoken, “take thee to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish-” his hand tightens around your own- “till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge myself to you."

He drops his eyes to the ground- almost… shamefully.

The Judge, still very much perplexed by you both, turns his attention now to you.

Oh.

Damn.

This… is really happening.

…What on Earth are you doing?

"I,” you squeak, barely audible even to your own self, “take thee to be my wedded… husband, to have and to h-hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for… richer, for poorer, in- in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish-” you pause, swallowing back your anxiety. You sneak a glance up into Javier’s eyes- immediately regretting it.

He’s… staring at you.

Just remember- this is for three grand- a new beginning.

This isn’t real-

It… will be annulled.

“Till… death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge myself to… you."

You drop both Javi’s burning gaze and hand as soon as the last word drops from your lips.

“I pronounce you husband and wife!” the Judge chirps. “You may kiss the bride.”

You blink-

Kiss?

You forgot about-

Javier’s lips press gently against your own- he pulls away before you even have a chance to react.

He… kissed you.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Peña!” the old woman smiles, clapping her hands.

Mrs. Peña…

Mr. and Mrs. Peña.

Married…

You’re married.

To Mr. Peña.

…To an idiot.

You- you refuse to look at him.

You… think you’re gunna be sick.

What have you gotten yourself into?

"Enjoy your honeymoon!” the old woman whispers, giving you a quick kiss on your cheek. “Have fun, Mrs. Peña.” She winks.

You crinkle your nose, deciding to have a bit of fun with her- distract yourself from your current mental crisis.

“Oh, no. You think I’d want him touching me?”

…

You grin at the perplexed old woman.

“Thanks for everything, lady!” you giggle.

A large, warm hand encircles your own.

“Come, Hermosa.” Javier’s voice is low, tense. “We cannot miss our train.”

You glance up, meeting the eyes of your husband.

Dark.

Hard.

Unreadable.

He brushes a quick finger along your jawline.

You can only nod.

“Let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

masterlist / next part

taglist: (in the reblog)

a/n: Ahhhh!!! I’ve been working on this one since early December! I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it! It was a nice change of pace from In Fields of White (of which chapter 9 is coming late this week!) PLEASE comment/reblog letting me know what you think! I spent a really long time on this, lol! (Shameless begging, I know.) Thank you so much for reading! Be sure to check it out on Ao3 as well!

#willezarr #wille writes #auriga hills

[onthesandsofdreams]

The Florist & The Baker

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn Rating: T Summary: She laughed and made her way to the back, her flower shop was next to a bakery. And she had met Cassian Andor soon after her store opened, he had given her a coffee and a slice of the best strawberry cake she’d tasted. It had been his way to welcome her to the neighborhood. And if she was going to be completely honest, she had loved the way his smile came so easily and how warm his deep chocolate eyes sparkled. She returned the favor by giving him a flowering cactus, one that now had a place of honor at Cassian’s cash register. And much like the flowers she sold, their friendship bloomed. But she would be lying if she didn’t admit – if only to herself – that she liked Cassian in a way that it wasn’t entirely friendly.  Words: 1733 Notes: Because why not combine florist and bakery au?

Read @ AO3

Jyn walked to her shop with a purpose, the day was bright and there was a slight breeze, she had woken in a good mood and she knew, that today would be a good day. The day was too perfect for it not to be.

Once at her store, she pushed the door and the bell above it rang. Bodhi was already in, sipping something (she never knew what he drank, some days were coffee, some hot chocolate, others tea) and eating a muffin. “Morning Bodhi,” she greeted him.

Bodhi gave her a grin, “Morning, boss. Jyn, Cass came over and brought you cake and coffee, you just missed him.”

She grinned at Bodhi and raised a brow, ��And since when is Cassian, Cass?”

“Since he got me the best hot chocolate I’ve ever tasted and this muffin for free.”

She laughed and made her way to the back, her flower shop was next to a bakery. And she had met Cassian Andor soon after her store opened, he had given her a coffee and a slice of the best strawberry cake she’d tasted. It had been his way to welcome her to the neighborhood. And if she was going to be completely honest, she had loved the way his smile came so easily and how warm his deep chocolate eyes sparkled. She returned the favor by giving him a flowering cactus, one that now had a place of honor at Cassian’s cash register. And much like the flowers she sold, their friendship bloomed. But she would be lying if she didn’t admit – if only to herself – that she liked Cassian in a way that it wasn’t entirely friendly.

She sat at her desk, where the still steaming coffee called to her and besides it, a plate that held some white cake. She sat and grabbed the fork, watched as it went through the cream and the fluffy cake. Took a bite and resisted the urge to moan, almond cake, blueberry cream filling and buttercream. It was perfect, much like all of Cassian’s confections (and a traitorous part of her brain whispered ‘like Cassian.’). She shook her head smiling, grabbed the coffee and took a sip, she allowed those moments to simply enjoy the cake and coffee before she began work in earnest. She didn’t want her mind to wonder to that handsome store neighbor of hers.

Jyn spend the rest of her day making orders, her bouquets had earned a reputation and she always took every single order that she received seriously, treated it with respect, love and dedication. She had placed high standards for herself and thus, earned accolades from the city she lived in. Now that she had Bodhi, she would spend more time dedicating herself to the bouquets, Bodhi had a good eye for flowers and read people quite well enough to recommend which to buy on a hurry, which is why he took care of half of the walk-in and she took care of the special bouquets; those that needed to be special.

It was almost the end of the day, when Jyn herself had to attend a walk-in. Nothing Bodhi did met his impossible standards.

“It’s for a special someone,” the teen had said.

Jyn had simply nodded, “How special?” She didn’t ask this question lightly, but she wanted to know where to start.

The boy flushed pink, much to her amusement. “It – it’s for a friend. But, it needs to be something masculine.” He managed to say.

Jyn thought for a moment, then nodded again. “Callas, blue iris and ferns, I think. It will be masculine, I promise you that.” No sooner than she spoke, she set to work. The boy didn’t interrupt her, and she let herself imagine making it for Cassian. But Cassian was easier to gift flowers, by his own admission, he liked them and in fact, he’d buy a bouquet from her store once a week. All sorts of flowers, he’d never seemed to be bothered if they looked ‘feminine’, he simply liked them, so he got them.

Perhaps she could make him something small, before she returned his plate. As thank you for the slice of cake and coffee. Just a friendly gesture.

Once she finished the bouquet, Jyn showed it to the teen. By the way his eyes sparkled, it seemed that she’d met his approval, she smiled. “Do you like it?” She asked, no harm in asking.

“Yeah. It’s perfect miss.”

The boy payed and left, and she looked around her store while Bodhi did a small bouquet for the following day. Jyn picked a calla, lilly-of-the-valley, ferns and tiny blue flowers and set herself to make a small bouquet. She wanted to pretend that it was just a simple thanks, but even she couldn’t live in denial for so long. She wanted to ask Cassian on a date, what better way to do so with flowers in hand? It’s not like Cassian would be offended by the flowers.

Cassian Jeron Andor didn’t subscribe to any toxic masculine ideas. If anyone would appreciate being asked out on a date with flowers, it’d be him.

Once it was done, Jyn set the bouquet on her desk, and spent some time driven to distraction by gazing at it and at the empty plate. “Hey boss,” Bodhi’s voice startled her. “I’m leaving, need something else?”

Jyn shook her head, “No thank you, goodnight Bodhi.”

“Not leaving yet?”

“In a minute.”

The look that Bodhi gave her said that he wanted to ask, but didn’t out of respect. “Alright, goodnight, see you tomorrow.”

Jyn didn’t leave until ten minutes after Bodhi did, carrying a plate and a small bouquet. Then, as she stood in front of Cassian’s bakery, staring at the ‘Closed’ sign, she wondered, should she knock? After a moment’s hesitation, she did and waited. It was only then that doubts assailed her, what if he was already gone? What if he didn’t like her bouquet?

So lost in her mind she was, that Jyn didn’t even notice the door opening, until Cassian’s voice brought her back to reality. “Jyn?”

Jyn blinked quickly, trying to regain her wits. “Ah, you’re still here, good!”

Cassian looked at her and smiled when he noticed the empty plate. “Liked the cake?”

“Yes, it was delicious, I – well, just came to bring the plate back. Oh! And I brought you a thank you!” She lifted the bouquet.

Cassian’s smile grew, and took both the plate and bouquet from her. “C’mon on in, that is, if you want, I’m still making some stuff, I’d welcome the company.”

Jyn followed him inside, all the way to the back, where all his famous confections were made. The room held a strong aroma of cinnamon. “Baking so late?”

Cassian placed the plate on the sink, the flowers he set on the side and nodded, “New recipe that goes up tomorrow, cinnamon cake with white chocolate frosting, and I like baking new ones the day before, that way, I can work with them better than freshly baked.”

“Ah.” She didn’t know a thing about baking, but she trusted Cassian. “Why cakes?” She blurted. “I mean, your creations are delicious and you’re a wizard with a whisk, so I’m sure that you could do more things than what you do. Also, why the Irish wolfhound for the signature?”

Cassian laughed and Jyn liked how his eyes sparkled with mirth. “I hate cupcake shops,” he said, but there wasn’t any true heat to his words. “They make amazing flavors and then six months later, they’re gone and they refuse to make it again.” Then he laughed again. “And as the wolfhound, well, that’s in honor of my dog, Kaytoo. He’s a grouch, but he’s a great dog.”

Jyn arched an eyebrow, “Is that why your menu is always growing? I mean, you never take anything off the list of cakes you make, even if they’re not on the display. Huh, didn’t know you had a dog, much less an Irish wolfhound.”

“Yesss.” Cassian said as he checked the oven. “Even if the seasons change, I like having options. Obviously, the request needs to be made ahead of time, but I like the challenge. And what can I say, I found him on the road, poor thing had been left behind by his owners, checked for chips and all that, so I took him home with me. He’s a great dog.”

The thought of Cassian rescuing a dog was absolutely adorable. “What a hero, I’m glad that dog found you. On cakes, what’s your favorite?”

“Thanks, I’m really happy with him.” Then, Cassian thought for a moment. “Our signature chocolate cake, that’s the one for me.”

Jyn nodded, she’d tried the cake and nearly cried in bliss. It was decadent, luxurious and all around perfect. She’d sworn to herself to only eat it on special occasions, else she’d be in trouble. It was that good. “I love it too,” she admitted.

Cassian smiled at her and pulled the cake out of the oven. The smell of cinnamon intensified. “How was work?”

“All in all, a calm day.”

“That’s good.”

“Cassian?”

“Yes, Jyn?”

She hesitated for a moment, she looked at the bouquet, then at Cassian’s face and sighed, so much for a simple friendly gesture. “Want to have dinner with me sometime?” There. She’d said it.

Cassian looked at her face, as if trying to find anything at odd with what she’d said. Jyn met his eyes, a soft smile to her face. Cassian slowly matched it. “When?”

“I’m free on Saturday, does that work for you?”

“Yeah, it does.”

“Great. It’s a date then,” she said, her smile had grown. All doubts gone. “I have to go, but I’ll see on Saturday.”

Cassian nodded and walked her to the door, opened the door and held it open for her. “I’ll see you on Saturday,” his voice was lower, with a huskier quality that she quite liked. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Jyn answered and walked out, the moon was shinning and the scent of cinnamon still reached her. She began to walk away, only to turn around and see Cassian still leaning against his door watching as she walked away. She smiled, maybe she should buy cinnamon candles, just to remember this moment every time she lit them. “Night, darling Cass,” she whispered one last time.

#dailyrebelcaptain #therebelcaptainnetwork #RebelCaptain #cassian x jyn #cassian andor #jyn erso #bodhi rook #rogue one fic #rogue one #au: flower shop #au: bakery

[chac-ozai]

WYD 2nite (Dadsona/Robert Small) drawn and written for @maxamillionbillion who liked the idea of Robert showing up to your house in his pajamas looking to chill.

Fic below cut>>>

He always does like to show up unannounced. Who the hell am I to turn him away? Man, it's late though, I check the clock and it's past midnight, and for someone who's getting as much grays as I am, that's just as good as being morning already...and that's juuuust when Robert gets going.

The house is empty, ever since Amanda left. When I get to the door, shuffling like the old man I'm becoming, it's already open. Robert's standing there in his pajamas, perched against the doorframe holding what I hope is my last copy Fortean Times he “borrowed” last week.

“Did you just pick my lock?” I ask- I wouldn't hold it over Robert honestly if he knew how. “-Or am I just being an idiot and leaving it unlocked again?”

“What, I never told you about the time I broke myself out of the pen in Gibraltar? 1978? Eh? Doesn't ring a bell?” Rob invites himself in, my eyes trail his pajama-clad legs and notice that the bottoms of his bare feet are green from a freshly mowed lawn.

“If you did, you're gonna have to tell me again.”

“Psh, It's old news. I'm lying by the way, you left your door open.” Robert had a package of lite-sodium popcorn in his tattooed hand, he stretches and rubs his graying hair vigorously as he throws the package onto my kitchen table as if he owned the place. “-And I thought I was the one losing my memory.”

“...Would you have broken the lock if I didn't answer the door?” I throw myself on the couch with plenty of room on the other side where Robert had recently been making “his spot”, it was right where Amanda used to sit when we would marathon Baked, Naked, and Caked on Netflix.

“Nah, wouldn't need to. Your windows are unlocked, too.” Robert presented this fact by easily swinging open my kitchen window, a smarmy little grin on his face.

“Well then, I guess the place is yours.” I have to admit it, “Where's Betsy?”

“Taking a dump on your lawn.” Robert reaches into my fridge and invites himself to my precious seltzer, I peek behind me out the still-open door and lo and behold there she was, beady little terrier eyes catching the light from my perfect, perfect lawn.

“Ah shit. I ain't going out there for that. Come on Bobby, if you're going to raid my fridge at least close the front door.”

“Ooooh~” Robert flailed his hands beside his head, mimicking a fussy Brooklyn mother “Yer gunna let the spiduhs in, Bobby.” After Betsy comes scrambling in, he kicks the door closed and leaves a tiny green smudge on the wood. Whatever, he's cute and he gets away with more shit than I should let him get away with.

“You'se the one who doesn't like spiduhs.” I mimic him, man that accent cracks me up. “So what's the occasion tonight? Anything worth keeping me up until 5 am this time?”

“Come on, every occasion is worth that amount of your time. Look,” He procured a USB stick from his pajama pocket- “I pirated the latest season of Forensic Files.”

“Oh great, this will definitely get me locking my doors and windows.” I stretch and watch as Robert squats in front of my TV, fiddling with the system he'd rigged up for us, cracking open his drink the meantime. My dad instincts tell him to keep the soda away from the electronics, but by the time I muster up anything to say he's already raising the volume on my TV, snapping his fingers in accomplishment.

“Aight. Aight, I think this is good. Sit tight, I'm gonna microwave this popcorn.”

“Aight.” I mimic him again, helplessly grinning as my best friend made full use of my kitchen. Betsy made herself welcome right on my lap for the two minutes that transpired of gradual pops turning into a cacophony of corn bursting from their husks. Robert was seemingly just staring at it spin in the machine, watching the bag bloat out, his mind somewhere else.

“Soo....how was therapy today?” I feel obligated to ask, I was the one who talked him into it.

“You know what? Not bad.” Robert cracks his neck, and after a brief incident of him futzing with the hot bag and almost dropping it all, he brings it over. “I think I've worked my way up to not talking about movies with her.”

“Well, it's a start.” I laugh, “At least you aren't inserting yourself into the Home Alone storyline anymore.” I practically bounce as Robert throws himself ass-first onto his side of my couch, tucking his feet under the blanket.

“Well it wasn't too far off, there where wet bandits.”

“As you've said.” He and I clink our seltzer's together, my best buddy and I wriggling into our seats and getting comfy.

“Alexa, turn off the lights.” I demand, and Rob's eyes bug out of his head-

“That thing again? Man, you need to shut that thing off, it's harvesting information out of you!” Robert lunges up out of the chair he'd just gotten comfy in and goes to unplug my Alexa, the lights having already gone out.

“What information could it possibly get out of me? How many times a day I take a dump?”

“You fool,you rube.” Robert takes my gadget and throws it under a pillow, effectively suffocating it. “That information is precious and belongs to you and you alone!” Bobby looks a little insane at that moment, something I never get tired of.

“Alright, calm down. Don't get a big dick over it.” Robert makes his way back to the couch and grunts as he throws himself back on it, a testy glance in my direction before pressing play.

“You'll see. One day you will.”

“Uh huh.” I humor him, reaching over and patting his blanket-covered knee. “That'll do, Bobby.”

An air of silence comes over us both as the TV comes to life, we've grown so accustomed to the companionable quiet since we've become best friends. Soon we're engrossed in a gruesome tale, and at times I sneak peeks over at Robert's face, his baby brown eyes reflecting gruesome images from the screen. He may be utterly entranced but I can never reach that level, not when he's across from me like this. He was talking at the screen, gesturing angrily-

“Fuckin moron, should have locked his doors. Anybody could just walk in and- ugh!” He rolls his eyes, I would be lying if I said I didn't love how intense he gets about these true crime shows. Every time he throws his arms out I catch a whiff of his cologne, that subtle freshness and sandalwood.

By the time the first episode was done and the second, and then third came and went, Robert leaps off the couch and makes his way to what I imagine is the bathroom. The light down the hall illuminated some creepy shadows down towards my bedroom, and my hair stands on end- I get up and start locking all the windows in my house.

“Eeeurgh.” I could hear Robert groaning from the bathroom with the door wide open, followed by an anticlimactic fart.

“That was a good one.” I could only laugh, man I hope by the time Amanda comes home for Thanksgiving I won't be regressed to a caveman, the way we two just let everything hang out.

“Don't say that, it sucked. What are you doing?” He reenters the room to see me testing the resilience of my kitchen window lock, I shoot him a guilty look and return to my post on the couch, Betsy having already made her bed for the night on my recliner.

“Oh you know, worrying.”

“Yeah, I see that.” Robert smiles and I kind of melt, kind of. “Alright, back to the show.” Without warning Robert yanks the blanket off of me and throws himself against me, wriggling his bare back against my chest, offering to be my little spoon. He pulls the blanket over us both and remains there without a word-

Man, this is the part of the night I love the most. Robert never admits it, never asks for it, but I know he's learned to appreciate the art of a good cuddle. I'd like to call myself a master, as I wrap my arm loosely around his, feeling the welcoming warmth of his bare skin. He squirms briefly and finds a comfortable place for his head, I don't mind his flyaway hairs blocking half the screen. I ain't worried about the show anymore.

I behave myself. It's hard to sometimes, Robert's cologne smells so good and he's so firm yet soft-skinned; it could bring a man to act on his impulses. I allow myself chaste touches, small comforting circles over his bicep, his hip. The hitching of his breath when I accidentally tickle him distracts me so much I am soon lost to the TV, it's just annoying noise muffling what I really want to hear.

Damn. Thoughts where wandering again. By the time Robert spoke up, his voice was croaky with sleep, he hooked his leg around mine and leans into me hard. “Think you got one more in you?”

“I think there's only so much double homicide I can get into before I start phasing out.”

Robert cranes his neck and turns to look up at me, his eyes bloodshot and exhausted. “Quitter.” He grins, “This'll wake you up.” The bastard suddenly presses the soles of his cold feet against my shins, I stifle a yelp-

“Herrrk- God damn, Fine, one more. One more.”

“Good.”

I don't think I even made it past the opening sequence. By the time I open my eyes again sun is filtering in through the locked windows, Robert was drooling freely onto the hand I had placed under his cheek. Man do I gotta leak, and I'm pretty sure I hear Betsy drinking out of the toilet; but I can't bring myself to budge and wake Bobby. I never could. Huh, wish I could reach my word jumbles from here.

I look at the clock, 5 am. I still have a few hours before work, I'm going to hold onto every second I have of Robert asleep against me as I can.

#Robert Small #Dream Daddy #dadsona #fanfiction #dream daddy fanfic #my gay art #dream daddy fanart

[eddiesasspbrak]

Forever and Always Ch. 8

Eddie is the only one of his friends to stay behind in Derry after high school, causing him to lose touch with some of them. Now 24, Eddie has heard rumors that his now famous, former best friend (aka love of his life) may be coming back to town. That won’t be too awkward, right?

NSFW content to follow. minors don’t interact

Ch. 1

Read on AO3

3k+ words

Eddie had to work most of the day on Thursday though he was granted the ability to sleep in a bit. He’d stayed out later with Richie than he’d intended, not wanting to leave his side. They went to a nicer restaurant where Eddie felt underdressed, but Richie wasn’t dressed very differently. He had on a leather jacket that put ideas into Eddie’s head that sent color to his cheeks and made him squirm in his seat. He always knew that Richie could send him spiraling until he was practically drooling, but he forgot just how easily it came. Especially now that he was his and he knew how he tasted, how he felt beneath his fingertips.

They were flirty over dinner, fed each other bites of food over the table and didn’t care who saw them. It was refreshing not having to be careful. Not worrying about who saw them doing what. They could hold hands and kiss without even thinking twice. It still made Eddie nervous, but he couldn’t help that. A lifetime of small-town hicks telling him that men who like other men are disgusting and shameful. Fearing his true self being discovered and being punished for it. If things were different, maybe he would have told Richie sooner and they wouldn’t have wasted all this time.

“This is what it could be like in New York.” Richie said, after feeding Eddie’s bite of his chocolate cake. “Not to pressure you, just want to give you an idea of what to expect.”

“You’re not pressuring me. Like I said, I’ve already made my decision...I just need to figure out how to set it in motion.”

“I know you’re scared, Eds, but I’m here for you this time.”

“I know.” They reached across the table and held tight onto each other’s hands. “Before I do anything, I’ll talk to you about it. Part of really does want to just disappear into the night and never look back.”

After dinner, Richie parked the car in a clearing off the side of the road and they made out like teenagers, Eddie in Richie’s lap in the backseat. Eddie had been too scared of getting caught to do much, but Richie’s hands had found their way under his shirt, hot against this skin touching everywhere they could reach. The memory sent a shiver down Eddie’s spine as he tried to focus on ringing up a block of cheese. Thinking of spices didn’t work as well as it had before, and he hadn’t yet come up with a new strategy.

Gerard wondered in for his shift looking exhausted and not wanting to be there and made his way back to the break room to drop off his stuff and retrieve his apron. Throughout his shift, Eddie found himself checking the clock. He wanted the day to be over. His mom had been waiting up for him when he returned the night before and demanded that he explain himself. Not wanting to tell her just yet, he lied again, saying that Gerard’s grandmother had insisted he eat before he leave.

Eddie had to promise to be home all night in order for her to leave him alone. He’d already told Richie, who was bummed but understood. He said he might swing by the store if he could get away. Richie needed to spend some time with his dad as well since he’d been in the hospital for most of his visit. He had pressure on him to hurry back to New York, but he wanted to be sure that his dad was ok, and his mom could handle everything. Eddie knew that he would be going with him soon, but not being able to see him was painful. They’d spent so much time apart, so much time not knowing how the other felt, that he wanted to be with Richie as often as he could.

Gerard came out to rejoin Eddie, who was close to the end of his shift. He was less than thrilled as he took his place behind the counter, opening the other register to help dwindle the line faster. He didn’t speak aside from giving them their totals and answering questions, and when he did speak his voice was listless. There was obviously something wrong and Eddie worked just a bit faster so he could find out what it was. When all the customers were taken care of, Eddie turned to him in time to see him lay his head down on the counter.

“You ok?” Eddie asked, moving to stand beside him.

“Define ok.” Gerard sighed, turning his head to look at Eddie. “It’s been a long day. There’s this guy at school who I’m into and I’ve been talking to him online. He knew I was a guy, knew who I was, and he flirted with me anyway and we’ve hooked up a few times now, so I thought things were cool. Today I said hi to him in the hallway and he called me a fag and punched me in the gut.”

“Shit. What an asshole.” Eddie wrapped an arm around him, rubbing his arm. “Screw that guy. If that’s how he treats you then he’s not worth your time.”

“But he’s so sweet to me when we’re in private.” Gerard whined, putting his head down on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Derry is a terrible place where people like us can’t be honest about who we are. I’m sure he’s scared of being found out but that doesn’t make it ok. He could have handled it differently. You deserve better.”

“I know but he’s so hooooooot. And he’s so ripped and god his cock is-.”

“Gerard, please, we’re at work.”

“Fine, fine. Let’s just say…” Gerard held up his arm and ran his other hand from his wrist to his elbow.

“Jesus.” Eddie laughed, dragging a hand down his face.

“Now you know why I’m so distraught.”

“Yes, what a loss.”

Eddie wrapped his other arm around Gerard, as his arms encircled Eddie’s middle, hiding his face against his shoulder. It was while they were hugging this way that Richie made his appearance, entering the store with a big smile on his face. Eddie looked at him and smiled, his heart skipping a beat. No matter how many times he saw his face, he’d forever fall for him all over again. He wondered if everyone felt this way when they were in love.

“What do we have here? Making a move on my man?” Richie asked, approaching the counter.

“He’s having a bad day.” Eddie explained. “Boy troubles.”

“Ah, anyone I can beat up?”

“Flattering, but no.” Gerard sighed. “I love him.”

“You don’t love him; you love his body.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Is there a difference?”

“Yes!”

Richie laughed. “Are you saying you don’t just want me for body, Eds?”

“Well it sure isn’t your sense of humor that keeps me around.”

“You wound me.”

Gerard pulled out of Eddie’s arms. “You guys are not helping my wallowing.”

“Sorry.” Eddie winced. “Anything we can do for you?”

“No, I’m ok. I just need to find a new hot jock with a huge dick.” He sighed, leaving the counter and grabbing the broom.

Richie looked to Eddie and raised his eyebrows. “Can see why he’s upset.”

“Yea well, I think it’s more the betrayal than anything else. The guy called him a name and hit him. He’ll probably come crawling back begging for forgiveness. I just hope Gerard has the strength to tell him no.”

“He’s young so he’s bound to make mistakes.”

“Maybe, but he’s become like a little brother to me. I don’t want to see him hurt.” Eddie looked up at the clock on the wall again. “My shift is ending. Want to walk me most of the way home?”

“Of course.”

Eddie removed his apron and headed back to the break room where he put it on its hook and grabbed his bag. He and Richie used to walk home from school together every day. Sometimes a few of the other Losers were with them, but on occasion it was just them. Eddie laughing at some story Richie would make up just to bring a smile to his face. Those memories had gotten him through the last six years, but they always hurt. Now he could move past that, revel in the way they made him feel. The memories now brought a smile to his face. When he came back out from the breakroom, he found his mother standing there with Richie and his smile fell away.

“Mom...what are you…?”

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to abandon me again today, so I came to pick you up.”

“I’m not going to...I would have…” Eddie sighed, feeling like he’d been kicked in the shin. “You don’t need to pick me up. I’m an adult.”

“Well then you better start acting like one.” She turned her sneer to Richie, looking him up and down. “I thought you weren’t in contact with the Tozier boy.”

“He’s not.” Richie spoke up. “I just came by to do some shopping.”

She looked away from him with a “hmmph” and turned back to Eddie. “Come on, Eddiebear, let’s go.”

Eddie shot Richie apologetic eyes as he walked by, following his mom out the front door. He’d text him later and apologize properly. He was so embarrassed by it. Sure, it wasn’t anything new for Richie to witness but he was grown now. He shouldn’t let his mother push him around like that anymore without standing up for himself. He felt like a child again as he buckled his seat belt, being dragged away from his friends by his mom. He hated it. He hated her.

*

Later that evening, Eddie was in bed staring at the ceiling and trying to calm himself. He’d argued with his mom. They argued often and usually Eddie could just walk away but he felt trapped by a promise to stay in. So instead, he stayed, and he yelled, and she yelled right back until they were both exhausted. It was all so stupid anyway, the way she still clung to him with any bit of control she could grasp. Lying to her just made him feel like she was winning in some way. The argument started over their meal because she’d been mad that Richie was at the store and accused him of trying to get out of dinner with her again.

“He was a customer! I have to serve any customer who comes into the store!” He shouted over the dinner table.

“Then why was he just standing there?” She asked.

“Because I was getting ready to leave and he was waiting for Gerard!”

“Don’t lie to me Edward.”

“I’m not!” He was.

“When you were young you always lied to me about spending time with that boy! I know you were with him all those times you said you were at the library!”

“He was my friend!”

“And then he left with all those other hoodlums! Left you behind! It’s high time you realize that all you have in this world is me.”

Eddie balled his hands into fists and pressed them against his eyes, fuming at her words still bouncing around his head. She wasn’t all he had. He had Gerard. He had Bev, Bill, Mike, Ben, and Stan. He had Richie. They didn’t leave him; he made the choice to stay. Because of her. He dropped his hands to his side, wondering if she’d wake up if he tried to leave the house. He needed to be far away from her. Needed to see Richie.

As if hearing his silent calls into the night, a tap sounded at his window across the room. Startled, he sat up and looked. There were no trees outside his window. His room faced the back of the house where the back-porch roof sat below his window. It was dark in his room, dark outside, and he could barely see but there was definitely someone there. Knowing instantly who it was, he rushed to the window and unlocked it, sliding it open.

Richie’s smiling face greeted him as he stumbled over the ledge and into his room like a clumsy Romeo with long limbs.

“That was way easier when we were younger.” He whispered, righting himself and dusting off his shirt.

When they were kids, Richie had discovered that he could easily climb up the side of the porch and use the roof to get into Eddie’s window. Since he wasn’t allowed over past sundown, he used to sneak in through his window and they’d whisper and laugh in the dark. Those long nights breaking the rules were part of the reason Eddie fell in love with him. They’d sit behind his bed, a sheet over their heads and a flashlight between them reading the comics Eddie’s mom didn’t allow him to have. Every time the house would creak, they’d shut off the light and fall silent, erupting into giggles when they realized it wasn’t his mother.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asked, shutting the window to keep the cold air out.

“I wanted to make sure you were ok. You didn’t look very happy when you left with your mom earlier.”

“Yea well...it only got worse when we got home.”

Eddie took a step forward, wrapping his arms around Richie’s middle and pressing his cheek to his chest. Richie’s arm came down around him, holding him close and rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. This was what he needed, that instant comfort that came from being with Richie. All of his anger melted away and instead he focused on the feel of his arms around his back, his fingertips massaging over tense muscles.

“Come on.” Richie kissed the top of his head. “Let’s go lie down.”

Eddie nodded against his chest before allowing himself to be pulled toward the bed. Richie threw back the covers and crawled in, pulling Eddie down against his chest. He smelled like cinnamon, spicy and sweet. It filled Eddie with the same sense of security that Richie always brought as a kid. That feeling that nothing bad could happen to him. It was something he truly believed but had forgotten that day Richie left. Now he was certain, as long as he was with Richie everything would always be ok.

Looking up, he stared into Richie’s eyes, feeling a wave of warmth overtake him. “I love you, Rich. I’m going with you, you know? To New York.”

“I know. I love you too.”

Richie bent down and pressed a kiss to his lips, sweet and slow, slotting together like they were made for one another. A thrill went through Eddie at having Richie in his bed, kissing him without his mother knowing. Just being with Richie filled him with want but he was aching for contact. Now he felt like he was breaking the rules and that excited him more than he was willing to admit. Wrapping his arms around Richie’s neck, he tangled his fingers in his curls and licked his way into Richie’s mouth. Richie reciprocated with a low moan, tasting the sweetness of Eddie’s mouth.

Pushing back on Richie’s shoulder, Eddie climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. Wanting to feel Richie’s hand on him already, he lifted his shirt over his head and deposited it on the floor. Richie’s hands held his hips, pressing into them as the sight of Eddie’s bare skin. He licked his lips as if he was a hungry wolf, ready to devour the meal before him.

“You know I didn’t come here for this, right?” Richie asked, trailing his fingers up Eddie’s side, making him shiver.

“I know. I don’t care. I want to touch you.” Eddie’s voice was breathy and as he pulled at the hem of Richie’s shirt, urging him to take it off. He sat up, allowing Eddie to pull it up over his head, throwing it aside with his own.

Eddie bent down again, capturing Richie’s mouth in a kiss lustful enough to make his toes curl against the mattress. Richie didn’t know this Eddie who took charge and sucked his tongue into his mouth like it was candy, but he liked it. The way he ground his hips down against Richie’s had him seeing stars across his vision. Richie pressed into his hips hard enough to bruise, dragging him down against him with each swirl of his hips. Eddie moaned into the kiss, his hands on Richie’s chest.

Richie pulled away from his lips, trailing kisses down his jawline and licking over the marks he left there that were already fading and sucking new ones across his chest where they wouldn’t be seen by anyone but him. Eddie gasped when Richie’s tongue licked over his nipple, his hips bucking forward against his lap. With the way he was moving, the bed was beginning to creak and their efforts to stay quiet would be for nothing. Knowing this, Richie wrapped his big hand around Eddie’s small thigh, his other hand on his back, and flipped him over until his back hit the soft mattress.

Using this new position to his advantage, Richie made quick work of Eddie’s pajama pants and boxers, sliding them down past his ankles and dropping them on the floor. Eddie had never been completely naked in front of Richie before. Sure, as kids they had gone swimming in the quarry in nothing but underwear but that wasn’t the same. For one, the other Losers were always with them. Now they were alone, just the two of them. Richie took a minute to drink him in, his eyes traveling from his face to his knees and back up again. Eddie’s entire body was flushed pink and he fought the urge to cover himself from Richie’s hungry eyes.

He didn’t stop to take in Eddie’s embarrassment, he just dipped his head low, pressing a kiss to his hip bone. Eddie shivered as he kissed a trail down from his hip until he was hovering just above his dick. Richie licked a strip from his base to his head with the flat of his tongue, dragging a shocked whine from Eddie’s throat. He’d done this before, had his dick in another man’s mouth, but it being Richie hit him with new waves of pleasure he wasn’t familiar with.

Eddie’s hand clamped down over his mouth as Richie took him in one hand and hungrily took as much as he could into his mouth. His attempt to stay quiet were failing with Richie sucking hard, hollowing his cheeks and battering his head with his tongue whenever he pulled up.

A knock at the door startled both, causing them to flinch. Eddie had installed a lock on his door so there was no way for her to enter, but she wouldn’t go away easily. He thought maybe if he ignored her, pretended to be asleep, she would leave. He didn’t want to talk to her while he was laying there naked with his cock in his boyfriend’s mouth.

“Eddiebear!” She called through the door. “We need to talk.”

Eddie tried to stay quiet, but Richie was refusing to stop his movements and a grunt made its way out of his throat. She took this as a response and kept talking.

“I know you’re upset, but you need to understand that I just want what is best for you. No one else will have your wellbeing as their top priority as I do. You understand that, don’t you?”

Eddie gently tapped the side of Richie’s head to silently ask him to stop but all Richie did was look up at him from over the top of his glasses, showing no signs of slowing. Gripping the sheet beside him with one hand and Richie’s hair with the other, he tried to steady his breathing.

“Eddie? Answer me!” She shouted.

“Yea, ok. I understand. I’m trying to sleep.” He said quickly before another sound escaped him.

“I can tell that you’re still angry.”

“I’m not angry! Just tired.” Leave, leave, leave he chanted in his head as Richie dragged him closer to the edge.

“Fine, we‘ll talk in the morning.”

He could hear her retreating footsteps followed by her door slamming shut. Finally able to lose himself again, he whispered a raspy warning. Throwing his head back, a strangled whine passed through his lips as he spilled onto Richie’s tongue. Richie swallowed it down, licking up what he could over Eddie’s oversensitive dick. Blinking tears from his eyes, Eddie panted heavily while reaching for Richie.

Wiping his mouth, Richie rose up until he was face to face with Eddie again, gathering him up in his arms and kissing his neck.

“That was cruel.” Eddie said, turning his head to look at him.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. It was kind of thrilling, don’t you think?”

“Not at all.” Eddie smiled.

“Yet you came so fast anyway.”

“Shut up.” Eddie giggled, kissing his lips. “What do you want me to do?” He asked as he pressed his knee up between Richie’s legs, pressing up on his painfully hard length.

“Whatever you’re willing to do is fine by me, baby.” Richie said through a grunt.

Eddie wasn’t quite ready to tell Richie everything he’d done with strangers from the bar, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use it now to please him. His fingers were still trembling as he undid the button and zipper of his jeans. Richie helped to push them down and get them out of the way as quickly as possible. Eddie was salivating at the thought of finally getting to taste Richie. It was something he’d dreamt about since he was horny teenager, lying in bed at night with his hand down his pants and Richie in his thoughts.

Taking just the head of his cock in his mouth, he looked up at Richie through his eyelashes, watching him chew his bottom lip. Richie gently pet the side of his face as he took as much as he could then drawing back up his length. Drool dripped from his mouth, sliding down Richie’s dick as he chased in with his lips.

“Fuuuuck.” Richie drawled out in a low voice. “You’re so fucking hot, Spaghetti. Can’t tell you how much I’ve thought about my cock in your pretty little mouth.”

A shivered went down Eddie’s spine at Richie’s words. He never knew that being wanted by someone else could be such a turn on for him. He bobbed his head faster, using one hand to stroke what his mouth couldn’t take, his other hand going lower to massage his balls. Richie bucked up into his mouth, tangling his fingers in Eddie’s hair on the back of his head, holding him down and he chanted, “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie” and painted his mouth in his cum.

Eddie swallowed what he could, but some spilled from his lips. Richie caught it with his thumb, holding it up to Eddie’s lips for him to lick clean. Eddie crawled back up, collapsing beside Richie, curled up at his side.

“Was that ok?” He asked, licking his lips.

“It was perfect.” Richie said, kissing him hard. “You’re perfect.”

Richie licked his way back into Eddie’s mouth, kissing him long and slow, holding his chin with one hand. Satisfied and exhausted, they curled into one another, arms and legs tangled as they pulled the blanket over top of them and fell asleep.

#Reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #It (2017) #it (2019) #Ro writes

[drummergirl231-2]

"It's good to have you home" with Donald, Della and Scrooge, please?

[link to AO3]“Maybe we’ll discoverwhat we shoulda known all along! Yeah,One way or another,together’s where we both belong!”

 Della started up the dishwasher while singingalong to Powerline. What a great day to be alive! They’d returned frominvestigating the ghost lights of the everglades the night before, she’d justhad the best omelet she’d ever made and only briefly set the kitchen on fire atiny bit, she had her old favorite songs playing on a new phone that she wasfinally getting used to, and best of all, she and her whole family were homeand accounted for.

She turned to go look for her boys,ready to jam out to the chorus of “Eye to Eye,” but she stopped in hertracks. Louie was peering into the kitchen with one hand on the door frame. Hejumped the moment they locked eyes.

Della pulled the earbuds from her ears. “Happy Sunday, my littlepunkin’-noodle-apple-face!”

“Uh… yeah… Happy Sunday.”

Oh, she knew he was up to something…hiding something, looking for something, spying on her for whatever reason, butshe didn’t mind. She loved everything about her boys, even their mischief.

“Whatcha up to, leaning all sneakilylike that?”

“I’m not leaning sneakily…” he lied. Hestraightened up but positioned himself so only the right half of his body wasvisible in the doorway.

“Uh-huh. Sure,” she grinned. “Well, d’youwant any breakfast? I’m getting way better at not setting the kitchen ablaze!”

Louie cocked his brow and looked over tothe stove covered in fire extinguisher foam. Della followed his eyes.

“No really, it’s an improvement!” shesaid. Aw, who am I kidding? “…or I could… get you some fruit orsomething…”

“I’ll, uh… eat later. I was looking forUncle Donald. He wasn’t on the houseboat.”

“Oh, he’s helping Uncle Scrooge in theattic!”

“Which attic?”

“The one with no kids living in it and lotsa boxes. We’re gonna see what stuffof mine is up there! I guess Uncle Scrooge kept my room the way it was for awhile, but after Mrs. B. became the housekeeper, he had her pack everything up.I was just gonna go find you and your brothers to see if you wanna help!”

“Yeah… coooool… Good idea, Mom! You findHuey and Dewey, and I’ll go straight up to the attic…” He inched his way to theleft as he spoke, and she knew he was going to turn and run for it – as much ashe hated running – as soon as he was done speaking. It was like he was tryingto hide his left side from her… and wasn’t his mosquito bite from the nightbefore on his left shin? The bite that got so puffy so quickly?

“How’s your mosquito bite, by the way?”she asked just as he turned.

Louie stopped. “Uh… fine! Totally fine.”

“Lemme see.”

Louie’s brow furrowed and he darted hiseyes to his left and right and around the kitchen, looking for an excuse to notshow her.

“If you try to run, I will chase you,and I will catch you. Don’t underestimate the speed of a cyborg mama.”

Louie sighed in defeat and stepped intothe kitchen, and Della gasped at the angry, swollen red bite an inch indiameter surrounded by pink-tinted skin wrapping nearly all the way around his skinnylittle leg.

“Oh, Honey!” she knelt before him to geta closer look. Before he’d gone to bed, Donald had drawn a line with a blue penaround the entire bite – the red and the pink - and now the red center alonewas creeping past the line. “Does it hurt?”

“Only a little bit.”

“Does it itch?”

“Yeah, pretty bad.”

“Have you been scratching it?”

“No. Then I wouldn’t be able to tell howmuch of the redness was from the bite and how much was from me scratching it.”

Della smiled at her clever boy, but onlyfor a moment. That meant none of the redness had to do with him messing withit. The bite was that bad all on its own.

“Can I touch it? I won’t press downhard.”

“I… guess…”

Della pressed her fingertips to thebite, avoiding the exact spot the mosquito must have bitten him. His leg feltwarm to the touch. Just to double check, she pressed her left fingers to hisother leg in the same spot. Cool as a cucumber by comparison.

“Right. Okay. We’re gonna go get yourUncle Donald.”

A few minutes later, Della poked herhead into the attic and looked around. She could hear Scrooge and Donald, butshe couldn’t see them.

“Donald?” she called. “Come look at yournephew’s bug bite!” Did that sound toopanicky? she asked herself. Gotta notpanic. Can’t scare Louie. Keep it light.

“Coming!” Donald called back.

Della climbed back down the ladder towait with Louie. She was about to ask him how he was feeling other than thebite on his leg when a loud crash and a “WAAAAK!” rang out above them.

“Ugh, tatter me tartan! Watch yerself,Lad!”

“Oh, boy… that’s all we need, to takethe both of you to Urgent Caretoday…”

“Wait wait wait, ‘Urgent Care?!’” Louie asked. “I gotta go to Urgent Care?!”

Goodgoin’, Del. So much for keeping him calm. “Well… all the normal doctors’ offices are closed today, Sweetie. It’sSunday.”

“But I gotta go today? I can’t go tomorrow? Why’s it urgent? Is it that bad?!”

“Don’t you want something for theitching?” she reasoned.

“We… have the pink stuff…”

“Oh, doctors have way better stuff thanthe pink stuff. That garbage is about as useful for itching as rubbing Pepto onyour skin.”

She seemed to have struck a chord. Louiestopped debating and leaned against the wall with a half-shrug as Donald andScrooge finally made it down the ladder.

“Louie? How’s your bug… awww, phooey…”Donald said when he caught sight of it.

“Great Scott! Is that only fromyesterday?” Scrooge asked.

“Yeah, and it’s warm to the touch. I’mthinking it might be cellulitis.”

“‘Cellulitis?’” Louie asked. “I thoughtthat was those dimples people get on the backs of their legs.”

Della chuckled. “That’s cellulite.”

“Then what’s cellulitis?” Louie asked asDonald knelt in front of him to examine the bite.

“An infection under the skin,” Scroogeanswered. “Nothing te panic about, as long as ye get it seen to quickly.”

Donald put the back of his hand againstLouie’s forehead and Della mentally kicked herself. Checking for a fever! I shoulda thought of that! Then Donald puthis finger tips under Louie’s chin and felt his neck. Ugh and checking his lymph nodes! I never would’ve thought of that!Dangit!

Louie made a little gagging noise toprotest Donald checking his neck and Donald stopped.

“The good news is, it looks like wecaught it early,” Donald said. “But we’ve gotta get you in to a doctor.”

“But what’s the doctor gonna do?!”

Maybesome lighthearted joking will calm him down? Della thought. “Well, he’ll probably have to chop it…but hey! Then we’ll match!”

Louie let out a slow whine like a sirenand wrapped his arms around Donald, sobbing into his shirt.

“Oh geez… oh, Honey I’m sorry; I wasjust teasing. Mommy has a dark sense of humor. Oh gosh you’re not used to thatyet… I’m so sorry. No baby, he’s not gonna chop it.”

When she glanced up at Donald, sheexpected him to be glaring at her disapprovingly, but instead she saw the faceof empathy… which, because she was feeling so awkward, was sort of anuncomfortable cringe. Scrooge on the other hand was doing his best to keep fromlaughing at her failed attempt to comfort her son. It must be nice to have thegrandparent role. All Scrooge had to do was sit back and watch her mess up herkids, then tell her stories of the way he messed up when they were little toteach her lessons she really could have used earlier.

“It’s okay,” Donald told Louie, strokingthe feathers on the back of his head. “The doctor will probably just give yousome antibiotics. Piece of cake.”

It hit Della why Louie wanted to showDonald his bug bite but not her… Louie was such a perceptive kid. He probablyknew Donald would be able to comfort him much better than she could. He didn’ttrust her. And seeing him cry into Donald’s shirt made her feel he was rightnot to trust her. She’d been home all this time, and as far as she could tell,she was still doing a terrible job.

“The nearest Urgent Care opens at nine,”Donald said. “If we leave now we can get there when they open, before it’sbusy. Have you had breakfast?”

“Uh-uh,” Louie shook his head and wipedhis face on his sleeve.

“Let’s grab something quick you can eaton the way.”

Donald ushered Louie back down the hallto head for the kitchen and Della stared after them a moment. Donald knewexactly what to do to take care of the kids when they were sick or scared. And I only make things worse...

“Good catch, Lass,” Scrooge interruptedher thoughts.

“Huh?”

“You spotted that infection before itmade him terribly sick. You’re getting him help.”

“And stressing him out instead ofcomforting him.”

“Well, that’s the tricky thing aboutkids… the same things can comfort some, but scare others. Joke about amputationif Dewey ever gets cellulitis. I’m sure he’d love te match his mum,” hechuckled. “But Louie… he’s a bit more… well, like Donald was.”

“Ah… yeah, that clears a few things up.”

Scrooge patted Della on the shoulder.

“Well, if you kids are going to thedoctor, I’m going te see if I can recruit the others to help in the attic. I’llsee ye when you get back.”

They were only behind one other personwhen they arrived at Urgent Care, so it wasn’t long before a nurse called Louieback and started taking his vitals and asking Donald and Della the reason forthe visit, whether he was allergic to any medications, whether he’d been tothis Urgent Care before, etc. Thank goodness for Donald… Della had no idea ifthe boys were allergic to any medications or if they’d been to this Urgent Careor not. There was so much she didn’t know about her boys’ childhoods andmedical histories.

The nurse left them alone, and a coupledull rounds of I-Spy later, the doctor came in. It didn’t take him long to cometo the same conclusion as Della.

“Yup, that’s cellulitis, alright… but hedoesn’t have a fever, so that’s good… no red line going up the leg… but I amconcerned with how fast it’s spreading, so in addition to oral and topicalantibiotics, I’m also going to give him a ceftriaxone injection.”

“‘Injection?!’”Louie’s eyes widened with terror and he scooted back on the exam table, thepaper beneath him crinkling in protest.

At the same time, Donald had leapt outof the chair beside Della’s and rushed to Louie’s side, holding his arms openfor Louie.

“It’s okay…” he tried to console him.

But this time, Louie didn’t seek comfortin his Uncle’s arms. “It’s not okay! He said ‘injection!’ That means needle!”He looked around Donald at the door and Donald shifted a few inches to blockhis view. He tried to look over Donald’s other shoulder, but Donald shiftedback. As Della watched them, she realized Donald didn’t rush to Louie’s sidewith arms outstretched to offer him a hug… Louie was a bolter.

When the doctor left to get theantibiotic, Louie slipped off the other side of the exam table.

“Louie…” Donald started.

“No! You can’t make me!”

Della stared at the base of the examtable where she knew Louie was curled up in fear just on the other side.Everything in her urged her to try and help, but how? What could she do? Shedidn’t want to make things worse all over again… maybe the best thing to do wasto watch Donald and learn.

Donald didn’t think so. He pointed ather and nodded toward the door. Maintaining eye contact with her, he took astep like he was going to try going around the table to the other side. He wasgonna try to grab Louie but knew Louie would try to make a break for it.

Della exhaled silently and nodded, thentook her place by the door. Louiewould’ve heard that, she thought. Can’texactly be silent as a cat with a metal leg on a linoleum floor…

She hardly had time to wonder what Louiemight do instead of bolting out the door, but neither did Louie. Donald dashedto the other side of the table and reached for him. Louie screamed and ranstraight at Della in sheer panic, hands outstretched to grab the door handle.She bent down and wrapped her arms around him, but he squirmed wildly to getfree. Next thing Della knew, Donald was pulling Louie out of her arms.

“Thanks, I got ‘im,” he breathed.

But then Louie stepped hard on his foot.

“OW!”

Louie managed to grab the door handle,but Donald grabbed him. As he pulled Louie back, the door opened and Louiescreamed.

“HELP! HELP! THEY’RE GONNA STAB ME! IDON’T WANT A NEEDLE! I AM NOT CONSENTING TO THIS FORM OF TREATMENT!”

“Let go of the door!” Donald orderedwith his arms wrapped around Louie’s torso and legs, but as he pulled back, Louieonly opened the door wider, so he called for backup. “Della!”

“Baby, let go of the door…” she tried tosay in a tone as soothing as she could manage as she began to try pryingLouie’s fingers off the door handle. Dang,this kid is determined…

She managed to get one hand pried off,but as soon as she grabbed the second, he grabbed the door handle again withhis recently pried-off hand.

If only she could convince him the doorhandle was disgustingly germy, or… wait,that’s it!

She leaned over and licked the back ofhis hands.

“EW, GROSS! MOM GERMS!” he pulled hishands back. The door slammed shut and Donald swung him up on to the exam tableand held him down. Della ran around to the other side.

“Licking your kid’s hands in a doctor’soffice?” Donald asked her incredulously. She could tell he was impressed,though. “Isn’t that a health hazard?”

“How? What has he touched with the backs of his hands since we got here?”

Louie still fought against his uncle’shold on him. “I don’t want a needle! I don’t want it! Get me outta here!”

The door opened behind Donald and Louiecried and twisted to get free as the doctor stepped back in with a small traycontaining a syringe.

“LEMME GO LEMME GO LEMME GO!”

“Help me hold him!” Donald said.

Della’s chest ached seeing Louie in somuch distress. As tears dripped over the sides of his bill, her eyes began tosting, too.

“Della!”

She shook her head and tried to pushpast the pain of seeing her child like this. “Louie, baby, it’s okay…” shecooed as she reached for his arms. The plan was to hold his wrists and use herforearm to help hold down his torso, but the minute she gripped his arms, hescreamed.

“OW! YOU’RE HURTING ME!”

Della recoiled, but barely had enoughtime to wonder how that amount of pressure could have hurt him before Donaldsaid, “He’s lying! Don’t listen to him!”

Ofcourse he was… how could I have fallen for that? But as she looked back at his tear-dampened face, itdidn’t matter if he was lying about her hurting him. It wasn’t a lie that hewas scared out of his mind. Her insides twisted with every motion he made toget free.

“Okay, can you turn him over?” thedoctor asked.

“Wait, WHAT?!” Louie stopped jerking fora split second and Donald used that time to flip him onto his stomach. “ITHOUGHT IT’D BE A LEG SHOT OR AN ARM SHOT! YOU DIDN’T TELL ME IT WAS A BUTTSHOT!”

Della leaned over to hug Louie, but alsoto keep his upper body still while Donald held down his legs.

“It’s only a couple seconds, and thenyour bug bite’s gonna start getting better, okay?”

The smell of rubbing alcohol met hernose as the doctor cleaned the area around the intended injection site. As soonas he was done, Louie stopped fighting but continued to cry. She knew he wasn’tany calmer; he’d only switched from fight to freeze, possibly because he wasafraid of moving right as the doctor gave him the injection. Nevertheless,Della wanted to praise him for holding still.

“There you go, you’re doing great…”

“I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!”

Della gasped as though an ice colddagger pierced her heart, and then Louie screamed bloody murder as the doctoradministered the injection.

“All done!” the doctor said.

Louie continued to cry on the table. “Ithurts!”

“You’re all done, though,” Donald said,straightening up. “No more needles.”

Louie turned his head toward him. “Promise?”

“Promise.” Donald leaned over to kisshis forehead.

Della wanted to join in, but what couldshe say? Her son didn’t even think she loved him. Would he listen to anythingshe said? Or… maybe it had been just another trick of Louie’s? …but what if it hadn’t been?

The doctor told them what antibiotics hewas prescribing and when to give them to him, and Della tried to listen… butshe wasn’t catching any of what he said. Atleast the instructions will be on the tubes or bottles, she told herself.How Louie was feeling was far more important to her now.

She put her hand on his arm and heturned his head toward her, then rolled onto his side.

“It hurts,” he said again.

“I know it does.” She used her sleeve towipe away a tear on his cheek. “We’re gonna go home soon. We’ll get you somefood, a little ibuprofen, and Uncle Donald will pick up your medicine and youcan be lazy all day. How does that sound?”

He took a shuddering breath. “I don’twanna move…”

“Been there… when I was nine I had anallergic reaction to I-don’t-even-know, and I had to have a hydrocortisone shotin my butt, and Uncle Scrooge had to carry me afterwards.” She held her armsout to see if he wanted her to carry him.

Louie looked down at her arms, then backup at her. She was just starting to feel foolish and wondering if she shouldhave told him Donald could carry him instead when he reached out his armstoward her.

Back at home, Donald and Della got Louiesettled in his room with some lunch and gave him children’s ibuprofen. ThenDella put a folded bath towel under his leg and got a bowl of warm water, awash cloth, and a bit of soap to wash the infected area while Donald went topick up his medicine from the pharmacy. She drew two new lines – one around thered area and another around the pink, and she sat with him until Donald gotback. Donald gave Louie his first dose of the oral antibiotic as Della applieda liberal amount of prescription ointment to the bite. All the while, Louiecomplained about the injection site being sore. Donald checked the site, justto the left of Louie’s tail feathers, and he didn’t see any discoloration orcause for concern. Just to be safe though, he looked up this particularantibiotic injection online and found that aching and burning at the site andsurrounding area was a common side-effect.

“Yeah, and I already looked it up on myphone, too!” Louie said. “And apparently you don’t even need it if you treatcellulitis early! So thanks for putting me through all that for nothing!”

That evening, Donald found Dellawatching TV.

“Whatcha watchin’?” he asked. It hadbeen a commercial break, but it switched back immediately following hisquestion. “Oh… Ottoman Empire, huh?”

“Yeah. I’m trying to get into it sincethe boys like it so much, but… ottomans?”

Donald chuckled and sat on her right. “Aaaaandyou’re eating ice cream out of a tiny carton because…?”

“There were only like two scoops worthof ice cream left in the container.” She could feel Donald’s eyes on herthough, and when she looked up at him he had his brow raised. “Okay, fine! I’meating my feelings!” she shoveled the last couple spoonfuls into her mouth andthen grabbed her head. “GAHHH!” She spit the ice cream back into the container.

“Blech!” Donald recoiled. “Take it easy,you can’t eat that many feelings at once!”

Della groaned with her tongue pressed tothe roof of her mouth to fix her brain freeze.

“What feelings are you eating, anyway?”

“Mint chocolate chip.”

“Della…”

Della sighed. There wasn’t much usehiding stuff from Donald… not when it had to do with the boys. “I just… I hatenot having all this mom stuff figured out.” She set her ice cream on the coffeetable and brought her knees up. Donald brought his knees up, too until they wereboth nearly curled into the fetal position side-by-side, and she leaned againsthim. “It’s good to have you home.”

“Me?” Donald laughed.

“Yes you! Donald, it was awful… thefizzy rocks, and the gilded man, and then one time Huey lent me his JWG tocheck out all the cool things he added but then I lost it for a little bit andhis brain broke, and… how ‘bout neither of us ever go to the Moon again?”

“Deal,” he said, wrapping an arm aroundher. “It’s good to have you home, too… for a million reasons… but for today? I don’t think I could’ve managedLouie on my own. He’s getting bigger, and stronger, and I was really glad to haveyour help at the doctor’s office.”

“Aw, look at you two,” Scrooge said bythe armchair. Della turned her head. “Curled up together like ye were beforeyou hatched…”

Della hadn’t even realized she’d curledup against Donald. It was such a natural and instinctual thing for them to dowhile stressed. But gosh, did she miss it. She thought of the bench in front ofthe blackboard on the Spear of Seleneand how she used to sit on it sideways, curled up with her right side againstthe back as she held her family photo, and it just wasn’t the same.

“Louie seems te be improving,” Scroogelet them know as he took his seat in the armchair. “He’s up and getting readyfor bed, and he says it doesnae hurt that much to walk anymore. You both did agood job today.”

“So he’s not mad at me anymore?” Dellaasked.

“Well, of course he’s still mad! That’show ye know you’re doing something right!”

Della groaned and sat up to grab her icecream carton. “I am soooo gonna get fat during their teenage years,” she saidbefore eating a half-melted spoonful, nestled against Donald’s side.

“Not the way you burn calories, you spaz,” Donald said.

“Listen, Lass,” Scrooge said. “Ye cannaeaim to keep your kids happy with ye all the time. Sometimes when you do what’sbest for them, it makes them unhappy. Do what’s best anyway. Bottom line is,you two working together saved Louie’s life today, an’ I’m proud of ye.”

Della had finished her last bit of icecream, but held the spoon in her mouth for a few seconds as her eyes welled up.She couldn’t hold her tears back for long, however, and she dropped her spoonin the empty carton and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

“Aww… come now, Della,” Scrooge said asDonald wrapped both his arms around her and rested his head on hers. She andDonald both curled up tighter. “What are ye crying for?”

“You gave me more feelings and I ran outof the edible kind!” she held the empty carton aloft.

But she wasn’t complaining. The truthwas, in that moment, she felt she belonged… and that all was right in theworld. And she wanted to cherish that moment as long as she could.

Author’s Notes:lol You and @alliterative-albatross sent the same prompt. XD That made things easier.This wound up being a much longer fic than I thought, but I had the idea for this in my head a while so I figured, why not?

#writing prompt #ducktales 2017 #ducktales fanfic #ducktales fanfiction #ducktales della #ducktales donald #ducktales scrooge #ducktales louie

[lucifer-kane]

14 Luca and Sammy

14. our friends set us up on a blind date as a prank because we don’t like each other but neither of us wants to let them win so

OH PERFECT. BASTARD HUSBANDS TIME

Luca hated blind dates, he had never had a good one, ever. They always were terrible and the people were either awkward or just not his type, and he never went home happy. He was waiting at a little restaurant in town, waiting for the other half of this date, and he still had no god damn idea who Troy and Ben set him up with. Like they were good at picking out dates for him, well. They never had before. But still. 

A familiar shock of orange hair makes his head shoot up and as soon as he sees Sammy, Sammy sees him. Sammy goes through a face journey, just as Luca probably does as well. It’s not that the two hate each other, they get along fine, but bickering was just so damn easy for the two of them somehow. 

“Did they really do this?” Sammy says, sitting down across from him. 

“Would you be shocked at all?” Luca shoots back, slumping in his chair a bit. 

“…..No. Not really.” Sammy grumbles. The waitress comes over, and the two order, something simple for them both that will get them both out of the place as soon as possible. 

Now, the conversation is okay. Sammy asks about Luca’s new clinic that he just opened up, and Luca asks about how the radio show is doing. But other than that, the conversation is kind of dry. Then, the conversation goes towards their other respective partners. Sammy asks about Ron, and then talks about how they get along and how Jack likes Ron, so on and so forth. Luca talks about Jack with a smile on his face, that seems to show up on Sammy’s face as well, both of them equally not able to talk about Jack without smiling wide. 

Luca talks about Jack, how they met and got to know one another, how Luca’s time as his doctor while he was in a coma and then recovering, made them pretty close. Luca felt his face flush at the end of it, but still gave Sammy a nervous smile. 

“Well at least we have something in common.” Sammy jokes as the waitress drops off the shareable dessert. 

“I think just everyone loves Jack.” Luca points out, but is smirking as he does.

“That’s true.” Sammy hits Luca’s fork out of the way from the cake with his own, and Luca does it back. Then after a moment, Luca hooks his ankle around one of Sammy’s and Sammy knocks it away, making a face. They both laugh a bit, footsie turning to Sammy accidentally kicking Luca in the shin, making him hiss with pain. 

“Shit! My bad.” Sammy says, eyes wide. 

“Ah fuck.” Luca mumbles under his breath. “It’s fine, damn how heavy are your shoes?” 

“They’re just normal shoes!” 

“Uh-huh, tell that to my bruise in the morning.” Luca grumbles and snags the last bite of cake from the small platter in front of them both. Sammy looks at him, mouth agape. 

“Bastard.” 

“Yeah, and?” Luca grins. 

They two split the check and walk out together, rounding the corner of the restaurant to head back to their cars. Sammy’s comes up first and Luca presses the taller man against it and kisses him hard, grabbing the labels of his jacket in his hands and presses himself close against the taller man. Sammy grunts against Luca’s mouth and grabs Luca by the back of his head and kisses him back, tangling his fingers through the doctor’s hair. Luca pulls back for a moment to press his mouth against Sammy’s neck, biting down and sucking hard enough for a moment to leave a very prominent hickey. Yes he’s 40 years old, no he doesn’t care. Sammy hauls him up by his hair to kiss him once again.  They split apart after a moment, breathing hard. 

“Jerk.” 

“Asshole.” They both grin at each other and meet in the middle for a kiss again, stopping this one after only a moment. 

“Wanna head back to Ron’s? I’m sure Jack is there waiting for us to see if this went to shit.” Luca asks, trailing his hands up Sammy’s chest. 

“Probably for the best.” 

They get into seperate cars and pull up at Ron’s little place, the lights on inside. The two can hear Ron and Jack talking as they walk up the little walkway and onto the porch. Luca lets himself in, and the two men inside look up at the two of them. 

“Enjoy yourselves?” Ron asks with a grin. 

“You all are assholes.” Both of them say at the same time, then glare at each other when they finish. 

“I think it went great.” Jack says, laughing and pointing at the large hickey on Sammy’s neck. Ron laughs when he sees it as well and Sammy slaps a hand over the spot. Luca can’t help the grin on his face. 

“Oh don’t grin like that!” Sammy pushes him a bit as Luca starts to laugh harder. Sammy tackles the man into the floor in front of the fireplace, Ron and Jack looking on and shaking their heads at the two men. 

“You two are terrible.” Jack says, chuckling at them both. 

Luca was pressed under Sammy’s bulk and was just slamming his fist onto the other man’s shoulder. 

“Get! The! Hell! Off!” He punctuated each word with a smack to Sammy’s shoulder. 

“Not until I get paypack.” 

“Oh what the hell are you gonna do?” Luca asks, relaxing, an eyebrow raised. 

“This.” Sammy leans down and bites Luca on the neck, in the same place Luca bit him, and sucks a hickey into his neck. 

“Fuck off!” Luca grabs Sammy by the hair and pulls him up and kisses him again, fast but hard. 

Jack shakes his head and gets up, pulling Sammy easily off of Luca. 

“I think you two like each other.” Ron says. 

“We don’t.” Sammy grumbles. 

“Yeaaaaaaah we do.” Luca mumbles, making a face. Sammy looks at him and his shoulders fall a bit and he gives a half hearted smile. 

“I guess just a bit.” 

“Fucking finally, you two admit it!” Jack yells, throwing up his hands. 

“We would have eventually! You didn’t have to set us up on a weird, terrible, date!” Luca says, going over to Jack and wrapping his arms around the man’s shoulders, pressing a wet kiss against his cheek. 

“Everyone thought it was a good idea, it was funny!” Jack says, turning his head to give Luca a big ol smooch. 

Sammy sits down on the couch with Ron, who presses his hand against the back of Sammy’s neck, pressing his thumb against the mark Luca made. 

“It could have been better, we spent most of it talking about you two.” Sammy says from the couch, relaxing into Ron’s touch. 

“Of course you did.” Ron and Jack say, both smiling though. Then Jack and Luca move to the couch, and Luca sits next to Sammy and rests up against him, giving him a small smile. Sammy simply gives him a kiss on the forehead, and turns his head back to whatever the hell is playing on the tv. 

#kfam sona #kfam #this turned out weird but eh idk i like it #katie-lynch-official

[rkyuna]

⁺   𝗠𝗡𝗘𝗧𝗚𝗟𝗢𝗕𝗔𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗗𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦❺ EPISODE TWO   ━━   𝖳𝖧𝖤𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘

     ●  ●  ●     ━━━━━━━   신유나  ⟨  𝙋𝙍𝙊𝘽𝙇𝙀𝙈  ×  ARIANA GRANDE  ⟩  ₊

two truths and a lie: yuna isn’t nearly as confident in her singing as she is with her dancing. yuna is thoroughly prepared to be eliminated if she fucks up this performance. yuna is ready to break under the pressure of teenage adolescence and sensitive emotions. 

even yuna doesn’t know which is the lie but she pretends it isn’t option number two.

she doesn’t really remember what possessed her to put ‘singing’ as her main skill when for the last two stages she’s passed on the expectation that her dancing could lead the way. yet, here she was; scavenging through the interweb for a song that could fit her voice in a way that would let her stand above the rest rather than saturated with the wannabes. 

it’s aggravating.

maybe she should switch to dancing?

                                         ━━━━━━━━━━    ●  ●  ●

she asks her dad for once, somehow his opinion becoming extremely valid these days with his excessive support when it came to her and her cousin. it was like he actually clocked out of work just to be around to check on her. as if that was the case but these days, it sure did seem like it.

glancing away from her laptop, cheek smushed into her fist, she stares at her father until he asks -- his own glance her way a bit more haphazard and cautious than usual. english first, because as always, even if they were in korea -- she and her father would never really get used to the change in language. at home, casual was best. 

( this meant no need for formal korean, something yuna absolutely seemed to forget a good 75% of the time she was around anyone other than her dad or hyunggu )

“yes, yuna?”

she sighs, “do you think i should change my skill to dancing?”

he looks at her for a moment, as if weighing his options; yuna wasn’t a temperamental child nor did she really take to his opinions or helpful criticisms, but he also didn’t want to seem overly biased -- that was what his instagram account was for. “why do you want to change it?”

“i don’t know, it seems harder.” yuna shrugs, pulling her hand away from her face to lean into her chair more; slumping in it. while she wasn’t one to take the easy out, she already knows this, but what were the chances of her passing on if she did something she wasn’t 100% confident in. 

sure, she was far more confident in her dancing -- a reason why she had initially thought she passed the last two -- it wasn’t the same with her dancing. 

“i feel like i won’t pass if i just sing -- i’m not good at high notes or anything like that. and all kpop idols do high notes even if they strain the fuck out of their voice.”

his gaze steels on her before she raises her eyes and offers a sheepish grin. 

“oops -- sorry, dad.” 

he grunts before shaking his head, finally dropping his phone from his hand, having idly been scanning the comment sections of any and all articles he saw yuna or hyunggu’s name pop up in; even yoona’s despite her elimination, he still was happy that he could see his step-daughter get some positive limelight.

“i’ll let that slip but yuna, it’s not like you to doubt yourself like this.”

he stares at her, a solemn expression passing his features for a moment; “your mom was so much better at this,” he sighs, “-- i know you can do it, you know you can do it. you shouldn’t run from a challenge. your mom wouldn’t have let you and i’m not going to either. it’s your decision but, i know you: you have more guts than any of the other kids, you’ll be alright. stop worrying about useless things, honey.”

she stares at him, perplexed before shaking her head; a mumble of the sorts on her lips as she lays her head on crossed arms. “thanks, dad.” 

                                        ━━━━━━━━━━    ●  ●  ●

maybe he was right. 

it was useless to worry about things that couldn’t be changed -- if she had written it on her application, she should see it through the end. if this would be her downfall, so be it. at least she put her 100% into it and saw it through to the bottom of the rocks. it wasn’t like her to take the easy way out and yuna wouldn’t do that. no, her dad was right -- it wasn’t like her at all.

worrying about this wouldn’t do her any good.

so she stopped, ( easier said than done ) running her mind on three cups of caffeine each night -- far more than a girl her age should be drinking -- to find the perfect song that would fit her voice.

and while there weren’t many, she had found a mix online -- ah, those trusty mixes -- that she thought would be fine. as long as she didn’t have to belt out any mariah carey whistles, yuna had nothing to worry about. this is what she told herself.

                                       ━━━━━━━━━━    ●  ●  ●

they’re divided and conquered, each of them falling into line among the masses ; a mixture of three skills that each of them were to partake in and yuna finds herself aligned at the beginning. while in alphabetical order, it keeps her closer to the end of the list, she feels the anticipation build up uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach.

she’s practiced, she has. but yuna feels the doubt come at the worst time. 

it’s ambitious, doing these two songs -- when she had first heard the song, she didn’t think she could do it. she could have easily been like everyone else: chose a song, practiced it and practiced it until it became as close as a copy to the original and performed. but yuna didn’t want to be a copycat of the original -- she, herself, wanted to be the original.

if she wasn’t what was the use of showing herself off so explicitly like this?

with everything already done for her, yuna couldn’t composed or rearrange to save her life: all yuna had to do was sing ( ‘with feeling,’ she could hear her old show choir director say )

this was it, wasn’t it? the moment of truth.

when her name’s called, she climbs to her feet; hair flip and all as she marches down to the stage. her smile as present as ever as she waves to the camera, a bit too excited -- she’s sure she’ll receive the screenshot from her dad if it airs -- before she makes it to center stage.

she’s bowing, this time a little more exaggerated than the first. hair all but falling in waves after her as she moves; pushing them aside when she takes the microphone and introduces herself. a wave to the camera, once more then back to the CEOs. “hello, again. i’m shin yuna, the dazzling girl from irvine. guess you can call me a diamond of some kind because i’m here to dazzle you all over again.” she winks, playing up the aegyo factor; a plus with her cute, baby-ish face. “i’m going to be singing problem by ariana grande.” 

she bows once more, “please take care of me!” please, please -- please.

                                                                         𝙄 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏 𝘠𝘖𝘜  ━━━  𝙃𝙊𝙊 .

she stands center-stage all over again, arms crossing once the cymbals lead to the bass, body swaying each time the beat dropped before her lips mount the microphone, a smile on her face as the english words escape her lips effortlessly.

if she needed an advantage, yuna had thought -- why not do so in her mother tongue, when she needed the confidence, she was sure to tack on as many advantages as she could. her comfort in the song was more important than showing off at this point, while it was something she wanted to also show in her performance, if she couldn’t do the first well, nothing else would have mattered. 

                                                                        “LISTEN TO ME, HEY.”

the song, itself, while dramatically changed to properly accommodate her vocal range; yuna knew it was a challenge. it was ariana grande’s song, and while she was a vocal powerhouse, yuna was nowhere near that prowess. but what she couldn’t do with range, she wanted to show off with technique. her vocal coach back in show choir would have been proud, very much so, if she saw her now. 2 years of hard work equipped her with the strength to properly carry her voice while dancing, even though it was minimal in comparison to her past performance, yuna couldn’t help but add a little bit here and there.

especially with a track as infectious as problem, it would have been a waste to pass up. 

for now, she’d have her cake and eat it too. ( ideally, the best of both worlds )

saving most of her strength for singing when she wasn’t dancing and dancing when she wasn’t singing. if she didn’t want to grow haggard while singing, she made sure to keep all the minimal and least tiresome moves to when the microphone wasn’t on her lips.

what she would never do is sing and stand there -- how could she when she had all this space?

yuna didn’t want a boring performance nor did she want any of the judges to think that that was all she had to her. no, she was going to use the space to her advantage. shin yuna was not boring.

                      𝗜 𝗚𝗢𝗧 𝘖𝘕𝘌 𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦  ━━━  𝘖𝘕𝘌 𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗕𝗟𝗘𝗠 .

when she moves into the dance part she had prepared within her two minute performance; she moves in a way that caters to the song. not too forceful, not too outright, it was a quick five second move right before the biggest note of the performance. the only one she couldn’t compromise out of the performance. while yuna was no high note junkie, she knew where her strengths lay and a high note was not one of them.

so she opts for the softer approach, and with the five seconds, and a hair flip to end it -- she takes a breath:

                “I SHOULD BE WISER AND REALIZE THAT I’VE GOT --”

                                                                          𝗢𝗡𝗘,  𝗧𝗪𝗢, 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘, 𝘍𝘖𝘜𝘙.

it’s right before the end, instead of finishing it with words, a continuation of the high note she had prepared -- she’s moving to the drop in the beat. microphone held to her lips whenever the words “ONE LESS” fall between her smiles. it’s the last stretch. the last twenty seconds to show herself and the judges that the doubt that had clouded her the past week is nothing compared to the confidence she feels in herself. 

that same confidence that had allowed her to stand before them with that hell come all smirk that she ends her performance with. there was no way she was slacking off, not when the end was so close. 

                     𝗜 𝗚𝗢𝗧 𝘖𝘕𝘌 𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦  ━━━  𝘖𝘕𝘌 𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗕𝗟𝗘𝗠 .

no, yuna was here to show that she would overcome it all, without a problem in sight. 

#rkmga5 #rkmga5skill #it has somehow become canon that her dad is a Netizen #mentioned ・ #rkkhg #rkyoona #model of ref is both of them so when one sings those are the gestures yuna is referring to #but her vocal tone is more like minju's #( 0 - 1:21 ; 2:21 - 2:53 ) #at the last part she's doing kriesha's dance tho #also i hate yuna bc she ltierally made me change her song last minute and im ANNOYED #we cut out the rap bc lMFAO yuna CAN NOT rap

[tobimikesan]

The Cats' and The Owls' Day Before the Tournament - Haikyuu!! Light Novel Vol. 9: Spring High Inside Story

So I’ve wanted to try doing a proper translation as a practice for quite some time, and I finally made myself work on another chapter. Man, what an experience.

The title is self-explanatory. The story is about the cats’ and the owls’ antics. Translation under the cut.

Toothbrush, towel, I guess I should bring one more T shirt... As Yamamoto Taketora confirms his packed items, the door to his room bursts open. "Not fair, not fair, not fair! I want to stay in a hotel too!" He turns around and his sister Akane is at the corridor with her hands on her hips. "Hey, don't open the door without knocking!" "It's a hotel at the city center, right? It's unfair that only onii-chan will stay there. Unfair onii! Aahhh, I want to stay there too... Luxurious 5 star hotel! Suite room! Bar with a night view!" "Y, you sure barge in with a lot of questions... I'm not staying at such a place, though!" It's true that he won't spend the night at home for the next few nights, but he'll only be staying at a lodging near the venue for Spring High in order to prepare for it. That's it. There's no such thing as a bar with a night view. But his sister doesn't listen and keeps on grumbling, earning a shout from their mom, "Hey, so noisy!", and his sister gets all gloomy. Your brother has a national tournament tomorrow, don't you care about that at all... Taketora is slightly upset and scowls at his sister. "Anyway, what bar are you talking about, you middle schooler. You'll be kicked out straight away." "Hmph, I will be with Alisa-chan, so there shouldn't be a problem." She answers without missing a beat as she enters his room. "Wh, what..." He would love it if she doesn't look around his room as she pleases, but if he words it poorly she'll just say things like, "Is there something that you don't want me to find?” and look around even more, so he doesn't say anything. Lately it seems like his words and his sister doesn't get along well. "Well, if it's Lev's sister I think she'll blend in just fine..." If he scolds her directly, he'll just end up being disliked, so he just halfheartedly replies and shows her the website of a high class hotel. "Alright, but here, look at the reality. This is the cost for a suite room." "Eh, where, where?" ".... 131,652 yen, tax included? What's this, the cost for 1 month?" "Get real! Listen, this is the cost for one night." "Eh!? For one night it's 131,652 yen with tax!? 130,000 yen... How many megaphones can I buy with that..." She makes a girly gesture of covering her mouth with her tiny hand, but the things she wants is weird. Why does she want megaphones? And anyway isn't one megaphone already enough? Well, but Taketora also thinks that in all of Japan his sister would be the middle school girl that suits a megaphone the most. Akane continues stroking her chin. "I could buy a camera too to analyze the opponents’ play... The one with image stabilization..." "Wish for something more middle school girl-like. Why are you like a middle-aged man. See, put your hand away from your chin, put it away!" Akane gasps and her expression changes. "Girl..." she murmurs. Her eyes that looked like those of an old man's just a moment ago glisten, and her hands, one of which was stroking her chin, clasp in front of her as if doing a prayer. "I want to have girls hangout with Alisa-chan in a high class hotel! I want to eat lots of cute, little cakes! It's so unfair that only onii-chan gets to stay there!" "Sh, she suddenly acts like a girl again.... Like I said, the place where we'll be staying is Matatabi Manor! We'll sleep in a large room together like canned sardines, where it'll only cost each of us less than 4,000 yen per night!" "Sardines...? " At Akane's doubtful expression, Yamamoto shows her the website to the hotel Matatabi. "Here" "..... Eh" The aura of Showa era can be felt from the dimly lit picture of the entrance of Matatabi Manor. As she sees that, Akane falls silent and stands up. Without a word, she briskly exits her brother's room. As he faces the door that closes quietly, Taketora murmurs, "At least say something. Your brother feels lonely, you know...”

"Lyovochka ❤️" Haiba Lev who's just about to leave his home stops when someone calls him.

"Hm?" When he turns around, his sister Alisa stands at the entryway while hugging a pillow for God knows what reason. There's no way she only woke up just now, so why, what on earth is she doing, and so he asks. "What's that?" "You won't be staying home tonight, right? Isn't it better if you bring a pillow? People say that you won't be able to sleep if your pillow changes. Right?" His sister pushes the pillow towards him, but he thinks, I don’t need it. There's no way I need it. Why is there a need for me to bring my own pillow!? In the midst of his confusion, he is forced to hold the pillow. "Eh? Wait... Why? Eh!?" "Of course you need our family photo and mug cup as well, right? Hm, what else... Ah, that's right... " She puts the photo down and skillfully places the mug cup on top of the pillow, then she turns and heads into the living room to get some other stuffs. What, what on earth. On top of all these, she plans to bring more. "Wa, wait, nee-chan! I'm not bringing any of these!" "Eh?" Her long hair swings when Alisa stands up and stops. She looks in wonder as she tilts her head and asks, "Why? When you're on a trip, you will feel more at ease if you have stuffs from home with you, right?" "It's not a trip, and I don't need those." "Then at least bring this. Think of it as me... ", as she says that, she holds out a teddy bear. Lev gets crestfallen and his shoulder slumps. "There's no way I could bring such thing. If the senpais found out what will they say... " "Wh, what!" Alisa staggers and powerlessly tumbles down while holding the teddy bear. "To call it 'such thing'... No way... How cruel... To call my dear Misha 'such thing'.... " Looking down at his sister with her trembling shoulders, Lev can't help but thinks, How troublesome. But even if he thinks of that, if he says unnecessary stuffs it will be even more troublesome. If I’m held to stay back any longer than this, I will be late to practice. And if I’m late, I'll get scolded by Yaku-san... "Ah, my bad, my bad! But I really couldn't bring it. Anyway you'll come and see the match tomorrow, right? See you tomorrow, then!" He puts down the things given to him and rushes out. From behind, he heard his sister wails as if it's their last goodbye, "Lyovochkaaaaa!" How troublesome. Lev lets out a deep sigh and heads to school.

Kozume Kenma glances up from his game and asks, "Why are these two already looking so tired..."

Lev and Taketora who barely make it in time for the practice already look as if they have just finished a match. "Shut up, you won't get it, Kenma! Damn you only child" "That’s right! Kenma-san who's an only child won't get it!" Kenma quickly puts some distance from those two who are upset for some reason and turns his head back to his game. "... Not like I want to know," he murmurs as he thinks How troublesome. Just then shouts can be heard from Taketora and Lev, and he knits his brows.  "From tonight onward we'll be living the ryokan life. Isn't it great, Lev?" "Yes, Taketora-san. Sleeping out is the best!"

For those two, who competes for the ace title and rivals based on Lev’s one-sided claim, to get along like this is unusual. Could life with sisters be really that tough...

From behind the excited Lev, Yaku Morisuke peeks out.

“You! Are you still complaining even though you have such a beautiful sister? How conceited!” Yaku’s low kick lands squarely in Lev’s shin.

“Ouch!”

“I’m so jealous about Lev’s sister!”

“Wai... It hurts! Yaku-san, you’re not making sense!”

Towards Lev who’s running around the small room, Kai Nobuyuki calmly says, “Lev, unexpectedly you bring a lot of stuffs, huh.”

“Eh, is that so? But it’s only this...”, as he checks his bag while avoiding Yaku, his face pales.

“.... There’s a pillow! Since when!?”

Looking at that, Kuroo Tetsurou bursts out laughing, “Bahahahaha! Lace! It has lace pillowcase!”

“That’s not it! My sister just... Ah, it’s not her! This is my mom’s doing. There’s also a letter from her....” With the laced pillow and letter from his mom in his hands, Lev freezes.

“A laced pillow at the national tournament! Bahahahaha!”

“Wait! Please listen to what I say!”

“Oi, Lev! Your mom is a beauty as well, huh!”

“Ah, that’s right! Once we arrive at the ryokan, let’s have a pillow fight!”

“You guys are so loud...”

Nekoma High School who features flexible and tenacious play style with its setter who acts as the brain at its center. In Interhigh, they managed to last until the Top 8. With the arrival of a 194.5 cm large rookie, could they go further in Spring High? The expectation rises.

Around the same time in Fukuroudani High School gym...

“The first match... It will be in court E, huh? E? .... Court E means... sub-arena?” Bokuto Koutarou flumps cross-legged on the floor as he looks at tomorrow’s schedule. At the same time, he grasps some vague feeling.

“......?”

There’s no way he can actually grasps it with his hand. It’s something that he feels, after all.

When he sees the schedule, some vague feeling starts to loom in his chest, that’s what it feels like. His metaphorical hand quickly grasps it to find out what it is, but he still doesn’t know what it is.

Is it excitement from Spring High which begins tomorrow? Or is it because his physique is off somewhere? Or is it just hunger? ...

Before he could put a name to this slight vague feeling, Konoha Akinori and Sarukui Yamato pop up and take a look at the schedule.

“Sub-arena means it won’t be so noisy, isn’t that great!”

“Eh?” eased by Konoha’s word, his grip is starting to loosen up on the thing he’s been holding.

“Look, there are a lot of people in the main arena, right? Especially on the first day!”

“Eh? Yeah, that’s right!” As Bokuto absentmindedly replies, the metaphorical hand opens completely. Just like a balloon which string has been released from his grip, slowly floating up then disappears, the thing that he tried so hard to grasp is now gone.

If he were to let go of a balloon inside the gymnasium it would surely be stuck on the ceiling, but if it’s a feeling that he lets go then it would just completely disappear.

It was an unease that comes from within Bokuto himself. "Main arena is better...", a childish thing like that. Once he’s caught by such childish thoughts, he even forgets himself.

Somehow, Bokuto himself is not aware of the complexity of how his feeling works, but his teammates are.

Konoha and the others quickly change the conversation topic.

“Anyway, what do you think we’ll have for dinner?”

“Ah, that’s right. Starting tonight we’ll eat at the inn...”

Refreshed that the thing that’s been bothering him is now gone, Bokuto is back to his usual excited self and says, “I wanna eat yakiniku!”

But his teammates are cold.

“If such thing exists I’d want it too.”

“There’s no way we’ll get yakiniku at the inn.”

“We don’t know yet, right?”

“No, it’s obvious!”

“Common sense is important, you know.”

Looking at the senpais who starts bickering while still sitting on the floor, Akaashi Keiji raises his voice, “Practice is starting.”

But his voice goes ignored and Bokuto and the others continue their chat on yakiniku.

“Then let’s just go eat yakiniku first before going to the inn! Problem solved!”

“You sure do things as you please. What are you, a selfish king?”

“When making the inn reservation the dinner would have been included, so you can’t just make changes like that.”

As Akaashi looks at the 3rd years that continue their bickering, he thinks, For Konoha-san and Sarukui-san to ignore it too....

But he doesn’t let it show on his face.

To honestly display one’s displeasure when things do not work out is the trademark of the great ace Bokuto, so he won’t just give up here. This is all still within the range of his expectation.

“.........” Akaashi quietly observes his senpais.

It seems like this yakiniku talk will continue for a while.

The potential held by yakiniku is huge. Yakiniku is like a bundle of possibility. That’s right, this is not a topic that can be ended easily. “Eh, yakiniku? Yakiniku?” the other 3rd years join the conversation. Of course, this is also within his expectation.

As more people gets in the conversation, Bokuto continues to ramble about his theory. “You might say that, but listen! If we eat at the yakiniku place, then eat the meal at the inn, there would be no problem, right?”

“Can you really eat that much?”

“Is your stomach stupid too?”

“That’s why, listen to me!”

Akaashi has already takes into consideration that Bokuto will get heated up, but what he says next is out of his expectation.

“Listen, okay? ‘Meat, meat, rice, meat, meat, rice’, that’s the order when you eat, right? So if you eat the ‘meat, meat’ part at the yakiniku place, then eat the ‘rice’ at the inn, you’ll be able to eat them all, right?”

“..... Wait, I don’t even get what you’re talking about.”

“What kind of mysterious reasoning is that!”

Out of nowhere a figure smoothly approaches the excited 3rd years who are now surrounding Bokuto. It’s their manager, Shirofuku Yukie.

She calmly smiles and says, “I guess I somewhat understand what Bokuto said...”

“.... Seriously?!”

Except for Bokuto, all the guys are taken aback.

Akaashi’s eyes glint, This is it!

Shirofuku-san’s word must have made Bokuto-san feels content. Conversely, the other senpais who are taken aback by her words must now want to end the topic. I have to make use of this distortion.

If I miss this timing, the topic of yakiniku will continue until who knows when. I must end it here...

This thought process takes 0.2 second.

Immediately Akaashi raises his voice to the senpais facing away from him, “Shall we begin practice soon?”

How is it? Is it heard this time?

Behind his poker face, Akaashi explores the possibilities for his next moves and  the following ones. He waits for his senpais reaction.

Will they get up....

“Yeaah!” Bokuto slaps his knees. “Let’s eat yakiniku once we’re hungry!”

He got up!

Following Bokuto, the other senpais get up as well.

“Not going.”

“Go eat on your own.”

Following the cold treatment from his teammates, Bokuto shouts, “What! Once we get our energy back, let’s have a pillow fight tonight! Pillow fight!”

“Not doing it.”

“Do it on your own.”

The quarrel about pillow fight is starting to heat up, but this time all the 3rd years have stood up and is entering the court.

I won!

Without anyone noticing, Akaashi’s chest swells with a little sense of achievement as he quickly runs into the court.

Fukuroudani Academy High School with their national top 5 ace who is supported by the regular members who each has his own strength. How far can they go this year in their battle for the championship? One of the factors that affect their fate is the unpredictable mental condition of their ace.

The fated rival Nekoma High School. And the powerhouse Fukuroudani Academy High School. 

They have both battled with Karasuno and are affected by them. Once again, they stand in the Spring High stage.

In their rivalry, their opponents are likely better than them. But Karasuno keep on fighting with all their might, and now here they are.

They both know each other’s strength and weaknesses in detail. Would the chance for this two school to battle it out in an official match, separated only by the net, come?

In the first round 40 schools in total will be sent home from the mens and womens side, and almost another 30 on the second round. How far will these 3 teams go? No one knows yet.

*Alisa’s bear is probably a reference to the 1980 Moscow Olympic mascot. Apparently there was an anime about the mascot.

PS. As always, thanks for reading! I’m still quite new to translating, so let me know if you notice any errors.

PPS. Support the official release! Here’s an Amazon link if you’re interested. I know it’s not translated yet, but the best way to get it licensed is to keep requesting it to the publisher (Viz). I’m so happy when I heard Heroaca light novels are getting licensed. We can get Haikyuu to be licensed too!

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu light novel #hq light novel #translation

[uruhabuns]

it’s all about the foundation (fem!makeup artist!reader x ruki) (part 1)

A/N: so i’ve been toying with this idea for a while, and after reading true beauty i finally had the guts to write it out LMAO also this is my first dot-point scenario, so I tried to keep it as to-the-point as possible. I hope you guys enjoy!!

_________

(Part 2) / (Part 3)

You were an assistant makeup artist at DeepEnd, and you usually work with KPOP idols when they have promotions in Japan

You were an expert at everything to do with idol makeup (especially glitter, gradients, and dewy looks)

Since you were younger than the senior makeup artists and stylists, you had to stick with being an assistant and helping them

If you were to do makeup, you were never allowed do a full face; either base or eyes or lips

One day kaolu frantically called into management saying that his assistant was deathly sick and needed someone QUICK.

Because guess what

That day was GazettE’s tour final

And coincidentally it was your day off

So your phone went berserk at 6am while you were sleeping

WHAT THE HELL DO THESE GUYS WANT

“H--”

“Sorry to wake you up so early, ______-san, but Kaolu urgently needs an assistant today. Can you help out?”

You wanted to throw your phone away and say no, but that extra cash sounded v tempting, so you accepted.

You knew of Kaolu and that he works with bands and some idols, but you never talked to him because he was always busy, and the assistants don’t usually talk to other makeup artists and stylists who weren’t on their team

So when you got to the company building at 8am with all your gear, you waited nervously for Kaolu, and not knowing who you were going to work on that day

When he arrived, the two of you greeted each other formally before getting into the car to take you to the venue

Which ended up being Shin Kiba Studio Coast

During the car ride, the two of you got to know each other more, and talked about each other’s makeup styles

When you told him you usually work with kpop idols and that you usually use korean makeup brands, he literally made the 😬 face

Welp guess i brought all my stuff for nothing

So then Kaolu showed you his portfolio, so you knew what you were up for

You saw ruki and uruha’s makeup, which looked slightly intimidating because it was so smokey and heavy, and you’ve never worked with this kind of style before

Since korean makeup probably doesn’t have as much impact on the face as western brands, you probably had to use twice as much product as you usually would use

Seeing your reaction, Kaolu told you not to worry bc he would be doing most of the work, and that Ruki and Uruha’s features make it easier to do this type of makeup

When you guys arrived at the venue, he lead you to the makeup room where all the GazettE members and the other makeup artists were waiting

“Sorry we’re late, my assistant called in sick last minute so we had to get another one”

They understood and began to work

You tagged along behind Kaolu to wait for his instructions

“______-san, this is Ruki and Uruha,” he introduced, “Don’t be shy~”

As soon as Ruki saw someone unfamiliar who wasn’t their usual assistant, he immediately noticed how cute and pretty you were

Judging from your makeup and style, he guessed that you probably never worked with visual kei before

You saw the two males, who were already in costume, and bowed, greeting them shyly, to which they returned the greeting.

Kaolu then instructed you to start with Ruki’s base makeup, and to use his makeup products rather than yours, because he felt that yours wouldn’t last as long as his

You had to comply, so you nodded, and took a bottle of hand sanitiser and some hair clips from your duffle bag to start

You sat down in front of Ruki, taking a small breath to calm yourself down

Ruki only smirked softly when he saw how shy you were

He observed the slight blush on your cheeks, the soft brown that coloured your eyebrows, and the glitter on your aegyosal and eyelids that complimented your pinkish coral gradient lips; your makeup style was exactly how he preferred on girls -- fresh and pretty, rather than dramatic and heavy.

You applied the sanitiser onto your hands, rubbing it dry

You brushed his bangs to each side of his face, and clipped them back with the hair clips

When you did so, Ruki couldn’t help but notice the subtle sweet scent of your perfume, and feel how soft the back of your fingers were when they brushed against his forehead

That’s when he decided to start talking. “So...are you new here?”

You nodded. “To visual kei, I am. But I usually work with kpop idols when they come to Japan.”

“Sorry, I meant to DeepEnd.”

“Oh! No, I’ve been here for a year.”

“A young one, then, huh?”

You smiled shyly, and tucked your hair behind your ear, something you usually do when you get shy. “I graduated beauty school last year, but I like to do my own styles too.”

As you reached for the primer that was next to Kaolu as he was working on Uruha, Ruki smirked at how cute you were.

You then asked him if he applied anything before coming to the venue

He said only moisturiser

You then told him you had to refresh his skin because it might have accumulated dust and dirt while he travelled to the venue, so you took out a cotton pad and a bottle of Etude House skin freshener, and sprayed it onto the pad.

Just as you were about to put it on Ruki’s face, Kaolu immediately fREAKED as he was working on Uruha’s base makeup

“______! I said to just do the base!”

His reaction caught the attention of the other members too

You froze in your seat. “W-we usually do this with idols before doing their make-”

“He already applied skincare, don’t try to wipe anything off.”

You chewed on your lower lip and nodded. “I understand. I’m sorry.”

You put the bottle back into your bag and threw the cotton pad into the bin.

“Yo, it’s her first time doing makeup for us. You don’t have to be so hard on her.” Ruki defended you.

He couldn’t help but feel bad for you for being scolded during your first time doing visual kei makeup

You grabbed the MAC makeup base, and pumped it a few times onto the back of your hand.

“Thank you...” you said quietly, careful to avoid eye contact with Ruki.

“It’s nothing. I know it’s hard, but for now just do what your senpais tell you, even if you have better ways to do things. I’ve been there before.”

You nodded and dabbed some primer onto your ring finger, applying it by delicately tapping it evenly across Ruki’s face -- a new technique that he hadn’t come across with Kaolu before that didn’t make his skin feel like it was pulled on

Ruki felt the awkwardness in the air, so he decided to make a conversation with you to make you more comfortable working.

“I guess idol makeup technique is different to visual kei technique, huh?”

You nodded softly. “Y-yes...”

“How so?”

“Everything has to look fresh and clean and flawless. That’s why I needed to clean your face first. After that I would apply essence and moisturiser anyway...”

“Ah...”

You took out your trusty beauty blender and freshening mist from your gear bag, and sprayed the mist onto the sponge.

You squeezed the sponge a few times to let it absorb the mist before spraying again. You repeated this until the sponge was damp enough to be able to blend without absorbing product.

Ruki watched you as you did so, observing your delicate hands, before you began to blend out the primer on his face

After that, you applied Kaolu’s concealer and matte foundation in the same way; spread by tapping with the ring finger, then gently blending out with the beauty blender

Ruki couldn’t help but feel his heart race a bit more every time you came close to him

The smell of your perfume, the feel of your gentle touch, and the sight of your flushed cheeks kicked his senses up several notches

NO THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING!!!

Before he knew it, you were already done with Ruki’s foundation makeup

His skin looked flawless and perfectly matte, and felt fresher with less layers of foundation and powder than how Kaolu would usually do it.

Huh...must be idol technique...Ruki thought, She is really good.

“Kaolu-san, I’m done.”

He went over to Ruki to check your work

“Perfect, _______-san. You did well.”

“She did a great job,” Ruki added, “My face doesn’t feel like a cake, either.”

You couldn’t help but blush slightly at the compliments, feeling accomplished since you’ve never worked with these guys before.

“Great. _______, you can take a break, just come back in half an hour.”

“Thank you. I will.” you said, beginning to make your way out of the room with your handbag.

“Also, I’d hate to ask, but is it okay if you could grab a coffee for me on your way back? There’s a Starbucks nearby the venue. I’ll pay you back.”

You nodded, half-reluctantly. “Of course.”

Once you left the room, Uruha began to tease Ruki.

“I see you.”

“What?”

“Are you really trying to play dumb?”

“Says the actual dumb one. What are you even talking about?”

“You like her, don’t you?”

Ruki flinched at the assumption. “What? Are you out of your mind? You out of all people should know I don’t do love at first sight.”

“RUKI LIKES SOMEONE?!” Reita yelled from the other side of the room, causing his makeup artist to scold him to sit down and stay still.

“Wait, since when did Ruki have crushes on people?” Aoi added.

“I never said I liked anyone!! Geez!”

Uruha smirked in amusement. “It’s been a while since someone made you feel this way, huh? I saw the way you looked at her. I didn’t know you were into the cute girls now.”

“Doesn’t his type always change?” Kai asked with amusement. “How old is she, anyway?”

“Too young for him, obviously.” Aoi replied with a laugh.

“WOAH, HE LIKES THE YOUNG ONES NOW?!” Reita exclaimed, “Why don’t you ever tell us these kinds of things?”

By then, Ruki had enough. “SHUT UP!! You guys are talking fucking nonsense. I have no time for girls or relationships.”

The other members only snorted to contain their laughter.

Uruha lightly poked Ruki’s arm. “Sure, keep telling that to yourself. But if you do end up dating her, or someone like her, don’t break her heart. She seems too innocent for someone like us.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Ruki felt something spark inside him - a feeling he had learnt to forget.

#the gazette #mine. #the gazette scenario #ruki #ruki scenario #i hope this was okay :')) #will write part two soon!! #i'm sleepy af adjskgfh

[lichtweh]

sunshine yoonkook / gen / 3.8k // for drea ♥

prompt: A. “Ow! What was that for?! 8. “Its not like you gave me a choice.”

(yoonkook, geckos and coincidences)

_______________________________________________

“oh, go back!”

“no, his eyes are—”

“no, the one before that—this one. this one’s cute.”

“ohh. that’s a trustworthy face.”

yoongi has to squint at the phone screen thrust dangerously close to his face, leaning back from the approximately 78th picture of some reptile he’s been made to look at only today. which should be annoying, because he never asked for even one of them, but he’s used to these happenings by now. this particular creature, like all the ones before it, is lanky with big round eyes and a wide mouth that sort of looks like a derpy smile from the front. he looks up at taehyung opposite him, a wide derpy smile on his face. yoongi shrugs.

“trustworthy. why not.”

the first hour, jimin was still trying to argue that pets aren’t allowed in the dorms and they know nothing of lizards or how to take care of any living organism for that matter. taehyung pointed out they were doing well enough in taking care of yoongi, and yoongi grumbled his disagreement into his americano, face behind a hand, but nobody listened. they’ve been immersed in browsing pictures of their soon-to-be new family member since.

yoongi doesn’t bother to ask why it can’t just be a hamster—the expected might just be too boring for them. it wouldn’t quite be them, either.

he lets his head rest on his palm again, the slightest quirk to his mouth, ready to drift off until the next time his valuable opinion is needed.

admittedly, he doesn’t mind it. he’s thankful, even, no matter how ridiculous their topics of conversation can get. it’s a welcome distraction and fun and although he rarely says it in words, the way they carry on despite his eye-rolls and sighs tells him they know as much.

he sent jimin a text at three a.m. the previous night, asking if he thought yoongi could make a career as a cashier in a convenience store when he can’t even say one sentence right, and he doesn’t know what grammar is, and he doesn’t even like people all that much but he needs some career perspective and money and he likes night shifts and maybe he’s really a gremlin deep inside and gremlins can’t produce music so it only makes sense that he’s failing everything and namjoon is disappointed in him.

it made sense at three a.m.

jimin almost broke down his door with taehyung in tow before noon, bodily dragging him out of his cave to save his life and sanity. yoongi barely complained.

now they’re sat in yoongi’s favorite café on campus, and he didn’t think himself one of these people to sit in a café or coffee shop for hours to relax or even work, but—it’s cozy here, light earthy colors, low mid-tempo beats, soft cushions. seokjin had told him about it more than a month ago, mindful of his taste. it became one of the few comfort zones he has outside of his dorm room and the one studio that isn’t his, necessarily, but it’s the same one he goes to every time.

they’re all the way in a corner without windows, yoongi guarded by a wall at his back and side, and jimin and taehyung’s lizard discourse in front of him. it’s pleasant.

then the boy walks in. the boy.

the most beautiful boy yoongi has ever seen.

the bell chimes with yet another customer coming in, yoongi only half paying attention, lazy eyes slow around the scenery. but then he sees who it is, straightening in his seat, because in through the door comes—an angel. the angel. a boy sculpted by god himself, perfect skin, sun-kissed honey-glow, terribly sweet. probably. it looks like it. shiny soft hair, hazelnut, yoongi wants to touch it. just to know what heaven feels like beneath his fingers, once. his eyes are so big, glancing around as he steps up to the line in front of the counter. he checks the menu above it, gaze drawn to the snacks in the glass display. his eyes seem to glitter somehow.

he’s a student, too—young, ripped jeans, earrings, a worn backpack slung over one shoulder. also, they’re on campus right now. in yoongi’s new favorite café. it’s the only place he ever sees the boy.

it’s not why it’s his favorite, but both facts happen to be true at the same time.

the pretty boy turns his head in their direction and yoongi stares down at his americano, his hand around the cup, the bracelet on his wrist. silver, big chain links, it’s his favorite one. hoseok gifted it to him last year. taehyung and jimin are still huddled together, whispering. yoongi glances back up.

the gorgeous boy advances towards the counter. unsurprisingly, his profile is as aesthetically pleasing to look at as ever. he has a pronounced nose, and yoongi is mostly ambivalent about noses, most of the time, but it’s a good nose. a pretty one. the curve of his lips is pretty, too, his jaw sharp. his neck—

“hyung.”

a foot digs into his ankle and yoongi kicks his own out on reflex, hitting a target. jimin groans, eyeing him sharply.

“so what do you think, hyung?”

“about what?”

the boy’s wearing a giant yellow sweater today; it engulfs his entire form, falling all the way down to mid-thigh, making him look small and cute. soft. yoongi’s never seen a boy this soft.

he inhales deeply, curling both hands around his knees to alleviate the urge to squeeze.

a fake cough distracts him.

jimin’s looking at taehyung. taehyung turns to look at yoongi.

“what?”

“nothing, hyung.”

jimin’s mouth and eyes start to curl in a way that sends shivers down yoongi’s spine, fox-like and nothing but trouble. yoongi shrugs a shoulder, deflecting with raised hands.

“i’m still not into reptile talks, you can handle your family issues yourselves. fight it out in the parking lot, i don’t care.”

with two judgemental gazes on him, yoongi keeps his own low. he snatches his phone up to scroll through his five notifications, all from namjoon, in varying degrees of panic over the right choice of backing track for their assignment due next week. yoongi should answer, but his brain still feels like shapeless goo wobbling around in his skull pointlessly. jello. his brain is jello. that’s why he’s here, with jimin and taehyung and their gecko dilemma, because he’s heard tiny cute animals have healing effects. he’s waiting for it to kick in.

in his peripheral, the sun-yellow sweater makes it to the counter. the boy’s mouth moves slowly, attention still drawn to the sweets. he caves more often than not, but his determination is worth pointing out regardless. he’s athletic enough that some snacks shouldn’t matter, skinny jeans having brought yoongi to the brink of death by choking on a coffee before, but he’s conflicted anyway. maybe it’s a sporty-person thing, like diets, or attempting to live healthily; yoongi wouldn’t know about that. the employee isn’t done typing in the order when the boy says something else, then bows a little and steps aside to wait.

he always waits by the register, and yoongi’s never been close enough to catch his name.

it’s not like yoongi’s here all the time—it is his favorite place to go to outside his own spaces, but he only comes here once a week week. maybe twice, he isn’t counting. he may drop by every other day for a coffee to go, which doesn’t count.

it’s the only place he ever spots the boy. it’s been a few weeks.

yoongi can’t hear his name when he hurries to take his order this time, either. a barista slides over a small plate with a slice of cake on it, and the boy grabs for it immediately, hands emerging from the depths of the sweater. he takes his drink a beat later, almost an afterthought. the corners of yoongi’s mouth twitch.

he straightens to full height to look around for a place to sit. it’s crowded at this time of day, people pouring in for lunch break before afternoon classes, almost all seats taken by students chatting or working or procrastinating on work by chatting with their friends instead. it’s what yoongi’s doing. yoongi tries to lower his gaze.

taehyung says, way too loud:

“over here!”

yoongi snaps his eyes up—taehyung is turned around in his seat, hand raised, motioning at the boy. the boy is now looking towards them. panic bursts in yoongi’s stomach, rushes up his throat and through his veins and he instinctively kicks taehyung in the shin.

“ow—what was that for?!” taehyung lowers his hand, damage already done.

“what are you doing,” yoongi hisses back, taking note of the splash of yellow moving towards their corner.

“it’s not like you gave me a choice.” taehyung shrugs, no remorse in his eyes.

jimin, on the other hand, glares at yoongi, gently rubbing at taehyung’s knee. “this is a chance. take it, old man.” that’s not even where yoongi hit him. maybe he should’ve aimed for jimin instead.

the boy comes up to their table, steps slow. he looks between them, question obvious, and jimin smiles at him, expression bright in a split-second. yoongi continues to glare at taehyung.

“it’s pretty full right now, so we thought you could sit with us if you wanted to.”

“oh,” the boy says.

oh.

what a pretty voice. airy, light, yoongi feels a breeze around his head. he stops glaring at taehyung.

taehyung, who is opposite him, jimin glued to his side. sitting with them means—

“yeah, i—that’d be great, thank you.”

the syllables come out flowing, gentle, like a cozy yellow sweater—followed by a bow of his head, soft strands bouncing along with it.

yoongi feels warm already.

he shifts to his left, further into the corner, to offer more space. when the boy catches his eyes, he adds an affirmative nod. it’s not that yoongi doesn’t want him here; it’s that yoongi would prefer not to spontaneously combust into flames of gay panic. not in public.

“i’m jimin.”

“i’m taehyung.”

jimin smiles readily, comfortable even with strangers. taehyung mirrors him, a hand raised in a tiny wave, as the unknown beautiful boy sits down.

his voice is honey-gold, clear, glittering right next to yoongi. “ah, hi. i’m jungkook.”

jungkook.

taehyung and jimin throw yoongi a look, and yoongi scratches at the back of his head, meeting the other’s eyes only briefly.

“yoongi,” he murmurs.

jungkook. he can feel jungkook’s body at his side, in the warmth and slight movement against their shared seat and it’s a bit distracting. he frowns down at his cup. there’s barely anything left, so he nibbles at the straw to not have to talk.

taehyung leans halfway across the table, back arched and arms flat on the surface, elbows to palms.

“do you like geckos?”

jungkook says he does—although even yoongi might say that out of politeness and obligation in return for a seat—and so he gets a quick rundown of their so far favorite candidates, pictures held to his face as he sips on his drink. it’s light brown, lots of milk, probably sugary. sweet. it’s fitting. he nods and hums at appropriate times, echoes in question at breaks in their storytelling. he sounds earnest.

jimin and taehyung strike up conversations easily—include jungkook easily, no hesitance, all open gestures and genuine smiles. they don’t need to ask questions: they offer up little bits of themselves and invite anyone willing to join. it’s how they got to yoongi, too—and he still sticks around.

there’s a wish to say something, to engage, too, pressing into his lungs. but he can’t bring order to the disarray in his head, what to say, how to start, would jungkook care? what relevant information could yoongi even contribute to their talk? he doesn’t know anything about geckos, he’s never had a pet.

yoongi listens to them, usually comfortable as an observer, eyes dropped to his phone. he drags his finger down the screen again, lets go, watches a tiny line go around in circles. nothing new since a minute ago.

jungkook only touches his cake after his coffee is empty, careful tiny bites he takes his time to savor.

“is cheesecake your favorite?”

jungkook hums in affirmation around a bite.

“i think the strawberry shortcake here is the best,” jimin muses.

“i still think you don’t know what a strawberry shortcake is supposed to taste like. the IT’s café has the better one.”

“how many times—”

then taehyung yelps, jimin’s body flung against his, squishing him against the wall. he tells jimin to stop, but he starts laughing, and jimin’s shape only melts into his further. yoongi doesn’t check how many heads are turned their way; he watches the loading circle go round and round.

“uhm, you—” jungkook angles his body towards yoongi, and he has to speak up a bit, laughter tinkling around them, “what course are you in?”

his voice comes out in careful tiny pieces, one after the other, sweet and lightweight. it’s nice.

yoongi lets his gaze drift over, but it gets stuck on jungkook’s cheek. there’s a small scar there.

“uh, music.” he clears his throat. “composition.”

“oh,” jungkook breathes. “me too.”

yoongi snaps his eyes up. jungkook’s are already on him, wide.

“i mean—” the boy tenses, leaning back a little. “not composition, i’m in the vocal department, but—i just, i love music,” he murmurs into his chest, “is what i mean.”

“oh.”

yoongi chews on his words, nothing valuable assembling right in his mind. oh, he’s so endearing in person. oh, he loves music, too. oh, he must sound breathtaking when he sings.

taehyung’s foot nudges his. yoongi blinks to attention.

“oh, huh. i’ve never seen you in the music halls before.”

“you speed-walk to class and back and never pay attention to other people, so i’m not sure that statement is worth anything, to be honest.”

yoongi kicks at jimin’s legs, but jimin dodges it. he’s half on top of taehyung, head on his shoulder. not to tickle him anymore, but now just because.

there’s a soft snort to yoongi’s right. something does a little jump in his chest.

yoongi looks over and jungkook turns his head the other way, subtle flush to his cheeks. pretty.

“ah, well. it’s true, i guess,” yoongi shifts in his seat, twirls his straw between his thumb and pointer.

jungkook shakes his head.

“ah, it’s okay, we probably don’t have the same classes, so.” he shrugs. “freshman, here.”

yoongi regards him closely, tension visible in the line of his back.

“senior,” he offers as response.

jungkook keeps averting his gaze, but his eyes are bright and attentive nonetheless; he’s probably a good observer. he listens well, too. yoongi feels comfortable with this, even though he’s a complete stranger. an unfairly attractive one at that.

“so you can make music? yourself?”

jungkook speaks with awe, eyes glinting. there’s a loud thud inside yoongi’s ribcage.

“uhm, yeah. i can. i compose and produce, mostly for classes right now and a lot is classical but—i also make stuff for myself, on the side, so…”

yoongi touches a hand to his ear, thumbing at the silver hoop in his lobe. talking about his music feels both necessary and embarrassing at the same time. he wants it to be out there, in the world, someday, in some form. but it’s also the most private part of him that exists, put into notes and beats and given a name and saved on a hard drive. someone can click on it, and there it will be: a part of yoongi, in melodies and lyrics, playing from a speaker. yoongi draws his arms closer.

“oh, that’s so cool.”

jungkook all but whispers, eyes so round. yoongi catches his gaze, and then doesn’t know what to do when he gets stuck there. his eyes are pretty. chestnut. he means it.

“ah, it—” yoongi shrugs, drawing a blank. jungkook hurries on.

“i mean, i have no idea how to do that, really, that’s so cool. i’ve tried, but it was so bad.”

now jungkook is running a hand through his hair, tugging the strands behind his ear.

“all i can do is sing, but lots of people can, and—” his shoulders are drawn up, tight, “ah, composing must be such hard work.”

“singing is hard work, too,” yoongi furrows his brows. “you have to practice it too, just like composition. like any other craft. not everyone can sing well or pursue it.”

jungkook has his bottom lip between his teeth, looking up from beneath his lashes. his mouth moves silently around thought after thought, until one makes it out.

“thank you,” he exhales. yoongi isn’t sure what for.

jungkook looks up at him earnestly, and yoongi averts his gaze. he swallows hard.

taehyung brings a hand down in front of them with a loud smack.

“so!”

jimin has his chin propped up on his palm, lips curved in a way that makes vague dread climb up yoongi’s spine. jungkook blinks at taehyung.

“we have to go now, but we were wondering—”

yoongi straightens at that, ignoring the pang of disappointment low in his gut. he looks at taehyung, but taehyung subtly gestures for him to stay put.

“if you’d maybe like to hang out sometime,” jimin finishes, smile genuine for jungkook.

“oh,” jungkook’s fingers curl in his sleeves. “oh, yeah, sure.”

“hey,” something doesn’t sit right with yoongi here. these two are straightforward and sociable, to a point where someone like himself has trouble to not be overwhelmed by it. if jungkook is anything close to the impression yoongi has of him, this is moving a little fast. a little too intentional. “he doesn’t even know you, can you come off any stronger?”

“so he can get to know us!”

“who ever said he wants to?”

“he wants to, doesn’t he?”

“how can you—”

“ah, it’s—it’s okay!” jungkook raises his hands. his gaze flicker between them, voice thin. “i still don’t have many friends here yet, so—yeah. yeah, why not?”

his smile is lopsided, a hand back in his hair.

“cool,” jimin beams, eyes crinkling. he looks childlike and innocent like this—a very misleading effect, yoongi learned.

“let’s exchange numbers.”

jungkook has a bit of a flush to his cheeks, but he nods. he pulls his phone from his pocket, and yoongi can only watch in both excitement and dread. he knows jimin and taehyung. there will be more to this at some point.

jimin adds, “ah but—”

or right now.

“we don’t have our phones with us, so could you just give your number to yoongi?”

yoongi blinks. 78 gecko pictures, within only two hours. he pointedly directs his gaze to where he assumes taehyung’s jeans pocket is.

“the batteries just died. both. a real shame,” jimin rushes.

they’re out of the seats in a second, removing their legs from kicking distance just in time. they dare to throw this at him so offhandedly, no hint of regret or shame. yoongi stares at them until his eyes sting. jimin flashes a brilliant smile.

“uh.” jungkook mumbles, and yoongi doesn’t want to look.

“ignore them,” he grimaces, “you don’t have to.”

“ah, uhm—” jungkook’s eyes dart between the three of them. “okay.”

because it isn’t bad enough yet, jimin and taehyung just stand there, waiting to see it unfold in all the ugly details. jungkook throws a few awkward glances yoongi’s way, and—yoongi actually has to take part in this now. he unlocks his phone with stiff fingers and opens a new contact form, then slides it over the table, careful and slow. there are two pairs of eyes on them. jungkook’s a bit pink around the nose.

he has pretty, slender fingers, silver rings on both hands. he holds yoongi’s phone with care, thumbing in his number before giving it back. yoongi stares at it. jungkook.

taehyung claps his hands.

“great! thank you so much.”

“we’ll be going now.”

“have fun you two.”

taehyung grins wide, and yoongi doesn’t care to find out what kind of expression jimin has on his traitor face. yoongi’s sort of curiously grateful, sort of about to excuse himself and run. jimin and taehyung are sort of dead to him right now.

for an hour or two, at least.

they wave enthusiastically and all but flee outside. taehyung pulls out his phone as they exit the door.

yoongi slumps in his seat with a groan.

“sorry about them,” he starts, pinching the bridge of his nose. “i can delete your number, don’t worry about it.”

“ah,” jungkook’s voice is soft, gentle. he’s a soft, gentle boy. he doesn’t deserve to be pushed into anything like this.

“no, i—” there’s shuffling, and yoongi cracks an eye open to jungkook fidgeting in his seat, hands hidden in his sleeves. he stares at the table. “it’s okay.”

truthfully, it’s hard to ignore: the chaos and pounding behind his ribs. yoongi swallows around the lump in his throat.

“yeah?”

his voice comes out raspy, strangely weak.

jungkook takes a careful look at him, from his eyes down his face, over his slumped shoulders and the leather jacket and black ripped jeans. then he stares at his plate as if it wasn’t empty, but there’s a slow quirk to his lips.

“yeah.”

warmth bursts in his middle, sudden but gentle, calms the nervous flutter down to a pleasant buzz. yoongi licks his lips and straightens up with a hum.

“so…”

he spent an embarrassing amount of time admiring this boy from afar, never taking a single step towards him. he didn’t intend to, not keen on leaving his comfort zone when he doesn’t have to, on putting himself out there for a stranger to say yes or no. maybe if it was coincidence—if coincidence put them together, he would say something.

jimin and taehyung are coincidence, in his life and in general, so it counts.

maybe seokjin, too.

yoongi gently nudges jungkook’s arm with his own to catch his gaze. it– he—is sort of breathtaking, up close. yoongi nods at the empty plate.

“another cheesecake?”

“oh, you don’t have to,” he starts, eyes going round, but yoongi raises a hand to stop him.

“as an apology… because that was mortifying. let me get you another.” yoongi rubs at his nose, face warm.

he tried not to sound too eager, but he clearly sounds too eager. jungkook bites down on a grin.

“and you can tell me more about that singing thing. if you want to.”

jungkook’s smile is a flower here: it grows from an unassuming curve, slowly, surely; stretches out bigger and fuller and blossoms so beautifully, he’s beautiful—cheeks bunched up, eyes in crescents, sparkling so bright.

“yeah, i’d like that a lot.”

#yoonkook #sugakookie #gakook #슙국 #*writing #/ hello n goodbye!!!! #prompts

[shikkearu]

Irreplaceable Part 20: It’s not a date!

wattpad AO3 Zoro was grabbing onto his mother's leg. She was making something on the counter, but he could not see and he really needed to know what was going on, but she refused to hold him so this was the second best option. He took a good hold and bounced up and down trying to get a better view. He stopped when Mommy looked down at him. He grinned, but it soon vanished when Mommy frowned at him. He opened his hands letting go of the fabric of her pants. He kept looking up and gently held her leg. She sighed, but smiled lightly before continuing what she was doing. Zoro accepted, that he could not see what she was doing, so he tried his best to listen instead. It was more boring, but could not be helped. His concentration broke when he heard the out door make a noise and he just had to go take a look. He peeked behind the corner and saw his grandfather taking off his jacket. He ran towards him joyfully calling his name:

- "Pappa! Pappa! Pappa!"

Before Mihawk could even react Zoro had grasped onto his leg and was bouncing up and down. He looked at the toddler and smiled surprised. He knelt down to inspect what he was wearing.

- "So you're a panda today?" He asked as he lifted up the hood of his jumpsuit. - "Panda." Zoro repeated and grabbed onto Pappas hand. "Up." Came a small demand. - "Sorry, not right now." He rose away from him.

Zoro pouted and looked at what Pappa was doing. He was taking something out of his bag and gave it to him.

- "Pappa bought you a new puzzle. This one has a tiger in it." He pointed at a picture of a tiger on the package. - "Tigel!" Zoro squealed happily. - "Go show Mommy what you got." Mihawk turned him to face the kitchen.

Zoro started to run excited holding onto the precious box. Midway he stumbled and fell on his face. He stayed down a bit and Mihawk looked at him worried. Finally he rose up. He sniveled a bit and looked at Pappa who was smiling encouragingly. Zoro grinned and a tear fell on his cheek. This time he walked carefully to his mother.

- "Mommy, look! Look! Tigel!" He waved the puzzle box in his hands. - "That's so great, Zoro." Perona smiled, but then looked a bit worried. "Did you fall on your way here?"

Zoro lowered the box and let his mother take a look. His nose was red and eyes too. Perona blew on his nose and kissed it.

- "There, all better." She smiled sweetly. "Let me open that for you."

Zoro was happy that Mommy had taken the hurt away, so of course she could take the treasure from him. Mommy removed a layer of shiny off of the box and then opened it. She took a puzzle out and removed a layer of shiny out of that too. She took hold of Zoros hand and moved him a bit further away so he wouldn't be on her way.

- "There you go."

She held out the new puzzle and Zoro was ecstatic. He dropped all the pieces on the floor and started to play with it. He solved the tiger one first, then a giraffe, an elephant, a zebra and a monkey. Once he was done he showed the puzzle to Mommy.

- "Well done, Zoro."

Getting praise from Mommy warmed Zoros heart so so much. He just had to redo the puzzle again.

Mihawk walked in the room and looked pleased as Zoro was busy with his puzzle. He turned to Perona and sniffed her cooking.

- "Smells good." - "It's going to be good." She huffed. - "Did you make Zoros onesie?" - "It's so cute on him, isn't it." Her eyes sparkled of excitement as she quickly looked at Zoro and then Mihawk. - "At first I thought it was store bought." - "Aww, you!" She was happy and kicked his shin softly.

Mihawk hummed amused and went to sit by the table. Perona was certain he quickly looked at her with such warmth, it should not be possible for him. She glanced at him quickly to see him looking at Zoro play. Maybe it had been a figment of her imagination. Her phone buzzed on the table and she dashed to look. It was from Chiffon, which slightly disappointed her. Law had not messaged her back and it was April already. She had tried to send him messages to explain herself, but he just did not answer. She sighed and checked what Chiffon had written.

- "Chiffon wants to go to an Easter event with me and Zoro." - "That sounds nice, you should go." - "Will you drive us there?"

Mihawk frowned a little. Perona was more than capable of driving herself, but she wasn't that keen on taking the initiative. She was still slightly scared of driving.

- "Maybe you should. I think it would be nice to get some alone time for myself." - "Gross pervert." - "Nothing like that." Mihawk grumbled. "I was thinking of updating the photo albums." - "And then be a gross pervert." Perona sneered.

Mihawk could only sigh.

----

The room was nearly dark only lit by the light from the TV. Perona and Mihawk were watching a movie together, as Zoro was already sleeping. She was craving to be touched, but it would not do to cuddle with Mihawk since she was already thinking of her husband. At these moments she would have cuddled with him. Not that Mihawk wasn't nice and all, just-

She stopped her thought. What the hell was she thinking? Of course she shouldn't be cuddling with her father-in-law. He was just warm and nice because they were family.

Perona huffed which caught Mihawks attention.

- "Is the movie bad?" - "No. I was just thinking on stuff." - "Hmm. Zoros birthday is near, isn't it?" - "May 11th." - "It's pretty close." He grinned. "I can't wait to make his cake." - "It's still a month away." She groaned. - "Aren't you a little bit excited?" He nudged her side with his knuckles.

Perona didn't answer. She really wasn't, but she shouldn't say that. She wasn't really that excited of anything. Not the summer, the potential schools or anything. Even thinking of Zoros coming milestones only made her feel sick. But saying so would only worry Mihawk.

- "Well a little." She sighed.

Mihawk chuckled and ruffled her hair. He rose from the sofa.

- "I can't watch trash like this sober." - "Well then don't. I'd rather have you not drink at all."

They stared at each other. Mihawk looked like he might consider sitting back down, but still went to get himself a glass of wine. Perona frowned disappointed and checked her phone. She was amazed to find a message from Law.

- "It's been awhile. I was angry at you, as I thought we had put that back into the past, but since then I've been thinking. I have no excuse for what I did back then and I wish that you can trust me like a friend in the future." - "It's alright. I think it would have kept nagging between us if I didn't say anything." - "Maybe. Have you heard anything from the schools." - "Two invitations." - "That's amazing! Does it mean we can't see each other? That you'll be busy studying?" - "There's no tests, just hearings."

- "And you're texting. See, I need this." Mihawk came in chuckling and Perona fumbled a bit with her cellphone nearly dropping it. She gave him an angry look.

- "You gave me a fright!"

Mihawk sat down and sneered:

- "I wonder what kind of naughty thing you were writing to have such bad conscience."

Perona snarled at him as he smugly took a sip of his wine. She then turned her attention back to her phone.

- "I guess we could meet up." - "That would be great." - "Some place like a cafe." - "Anything goes."

- "If you're just going to be texting, go somewhere else and let me have the sofa."

Mihawk poked her leg with his and lifted it on the sofa. She glared at him. It had been her idea to watch this movie. Defiantly he looked straight into her eyes and took a sip of his wine. This annoyed her a great deal. She grabbed onto his leg and pulled it on her lap.

- "Now you've got all the space and I won't need to leave. Happy?" She huffed angrily and set her phone aside.

Mihawk didn't reply, but placed his other foot on her lap too. He looked at her for a moment and then set his wineglass aside. Perona was getting pulled back into the movie and without thinking she started to gently pet Mihawks legs.

She felt a warm pair of eyes on her and she turned to look at Mihawk, but he was watching the movie.

It had been so weird lately.

Maybe it was a figment of her imagination, but she felt like he was looking at her differently. Maybe it was the way he looked at the people he loved, his family. She wasn't certain. But for some reason, those moments made her heart flutter. They made her happier.

----

Standing before the school, Perona looked at it nervous. She glanced behind her. Chiffon was there to give her strength since the hearing was in the middle of the day. Perona almost felt her knees buckle and she dashed to Chiffon. Chiffon let out a small squeak as Perona harshly glomped her.

- "It's scary I wanna go home." She whimpered. - "You've done this before remember. It's not so bad." Chiffon laughed.

Perona groaned and went to Zoro, who sat in his stroller.

- "Please give Mommy some strength."

She held her hands out and Zoro placed his hands on hers, without letting his eyes off of the stroller next to his, where sat baby Pez. They were having some weird silly face competition.

- "Uuh, I guess that's good enough." - "You can do it, Perona." Chiffon looked at her encouragingly. - "Dammit, you're right!" Perona straightened out. "I am the only one capable of making my dreams come true. Good things are just bound to happen. And even if I fail I still get to live with Zoro and Mihawk." - "That's the spirit!" Chiffon was getting fired up as well.

But in the interview, her resolution faltered.

- "Why should we take you in our school?" One of the interviewers, Bellemere, looked at her sternly. - "Ah umm." Perona felt panicky and sweated.

The early question of her background were easy to answer, but something like this... Dammit!

She had practiced this at home, but now her mind was blank. The second interviewer wrote something on their paper. Perona kept stuttering, trying to find the words.

- "Why are you passionate about sewing? Why it interests you? What makes you stand out?" Bellemere tried to help out. - "Just uh. I've always liked dressing up and I'm imaginative. I'm actually pretty head strong and won't get pushed aside. Just a bit nervous of this situation."

Perona could see Bellemere start to smile amused and realized, that she had messed up by admitting her nervousness.

- "Since you like dressing up, shouldn't you try a career that has more to do with that? Acting?"

- "No, because I also like to create. Can I show you something?"

- "Go ahead."

Perona dug her bag and lifted up her sketchbook. She also took some printed photos of the clothes she had sewn for Zoro. She also had his panda-jumpsuit with her. The interviewers looked at her assembly. They carefully looked over the jumpsuit, comparing it to the original sketch.

- "You did this?" - "Yes." - "It's actually quite good. We don't usually expect to see a portfolio, so this is a pleasant surprise." Bellemere said and wrote something on her papers. "Do you have something you might want to add?" - "No, nothing." - "Alright then I think were done here." She looked at the other interviewer who nodded. "You'll be getting notified about our decision. Thank you for coming here." - "Thank you. Good bye."

Perona stumbled outside where Chiffon was waiting with the toddlers at a nearby bench. Her hands shook as she sat down next to her.

- "How did it go?" - "Horrible." - "Well you don't know that yet." - "Uuh, I do." She covered her face with her hands.

Chiffon petted Peronas back.

- "At least it's over now." - "I still got another one to go." - "You can do it!" - "I guess. Wanna go shopping now?" - "Of course."

Perona liked going out with Chiffon. Chiffon didn't judge, was fun to be around and as a mother of a child nearly the same age as Zoro she was going through the same things. They had gotten something to eat and were sitting at a park bench. It was such a warm day. Pez started to whine and Chiffon took him up. Apparently it was feeding time. Perona always felt extremely envious of Chiffons ability to breast feed her child, something she herself had always struggled with. She had planned of doing it until Zoro was nearly three, but forcibly had to stop. It was something she would always regret. Somehow regardless of the stress or how her breasts seemingly stopped working, she should have forced herself to keep on trying. She gave Zoro his bottle, filled with the formula. He didn't really seem to dislike it anymore which was a little bit of a relief. Perona pulled her legs to her chest and side glanced at Chiffon and Pez. The two looked so perfect.

- "Does the interview still trouble you?" Chiffon asked slightly worried. - "No, no. I'm just a bit jealous that's all." - "Of what?" - "You being able to feed your child." Perona hugged her feet a bit tighter. - "Oh, I'm sorry." Chiffon knew of Peronas troubles and started to cover herself and Pez. - "Wait, no, no! Don't." Perona made her stop. "I appreciate what you're trying, but you're doing something so wonderful, I don't want to make you feel like an inconvenience."

Chiffon sighed a bit relieved and she petted Peronas back slightly.

- "I've read a study that the effect of breastfeeding isn't as big as thought. It's just that women who choose to do so tend to be more concerned of health issues." She moved down to gently look Perona in the eyes. "Just so you know, you're doing wonderful with Zoro."

Perona whimpered a silent thank you, bit her lip and started to cry. Chiffon kept on calmly petting her back.

----

Mihawk was sitting on his armchair reading a book when Perona returned with Zoro. She undressed his outdoor clothes before letting him go. Instantly he ran to Mihawk and grabbed onto his leg. Mihawk started to do the lifting they normally did, but Zoro was getting too big for it and Perona could see Mihawk straining a little bit. She sat and looked at them both. It was so bittersweet to see Zoro grow. Her eyes got wet.

- "Did it go badly?" Mihawk looked at her. He had noticed the redness of her eyes. - "No." - "Then what's the problem?" - "Zoro. You know you can't do that anymore soon." - "I might not be able to fully lift him, but I'll try as long as he wants it." - "Doesn't it make you sad, having to stop doing things because he gets too big?" - "A little, but all those nice things will get replaced by other things. I might not get to lift him like this, but I'll get to play football with him later."

Mihawk closed his eyes and smiled a little, while lifting Zoro. Finally he stopped and sighed.

- "Pappa is tired now."

This earned him a pout from Zoro, but the child did stop. He ran off to his toy box picking random assortment of colourful toys dropping them in the middle of the floor. He expectantly looked at Mihawk.

- "Play." He pointed at the toys. - "Alright." He went down on the floor with Zoro.

Perona looked on and sighed. She checked her phone.

- "I could do next Saturday at one." Read Laws message.

- "Hey Mihawk, do you have anything on Saturday?" - "No." - "Can you babysit Zoro while I'm gone?" - "Of course. What are you going to do?" - "Just a date." She quickly explained herself. "A meeting. Not a romantic date." - "Aha." Mihawk looked a bit skeptical, but kept his mouth shut. He had promised Perona not to meddle in her affairs. - "It's really not that sort of date." Perona mumbled embarrassed. - "Perona, you can do what ever you please as long as it's not damaging to anyone." - "Ah, yes, but-" - "I'm playing with Zoro right now." Mihawk cut her short. Talking about this wasn't what he wanted to do. It was stinging his heart unnecessarily.

Perona rose from the sofa to put away the rest of her things. Of course Mihawk was angry at her. She was angry at herself. This wasn't a date, she kept telling herself and Law. Not a date.

Then why did she feel so ashamed?

----

Perona was on her way to the "not-a-date". It was sunny and nice, though a bit chilly, but one didn't need to wear a jacket anymore. She stopped before her reflection on a window. A simple blouse and skinny jeans, hair on a loose bun on top of her head, with a bow and unicorn shaped cute pins. She had a small bag over her shoulder. She had put on simple make-up, so she wouldn't look like a slob. As she stared at her reflection only one thought crossed her mind:

- "I'm definitely over dressed, he'll think this is a date for sure."

She had tried her best to stay casual and she did look so to the passerby, but still she felt uncertain. But there was no turning back now, for Law would hate her if she did a last minute cancel, he was a very busy man after all. She walked slowly towards her destination and saw him wait by the door to a cafe casually looking at his cellphone listening to music. He was wearing a black long sleeved shirt, a fluffy black scarf and his typical hat. During the time they had not seen, he had grown a beard. It made her want to know what a beard would have looked like on her husband. A small sigh escaped her lips.

- "Hey." She came to him with a weak smile. "Have you waited for long?" - "No." Law tugged off his earphones and shoved them in his pocket along with his cell phone. "I didn't think you'd actually show up." He looked visibly surprised, but glad. - "Well I'm here now." - "Thank you."

Law smiled a little relieved. He was so different to the small interactions they've had in the past. Maybe he was just being shy right now or maybe that unpredictable violent side had dulled a bit with their messaging. She hoped it was the latter.

- "Uh, sorry, but you look sad." He looked a bit worried. "Is something wrong?" - "I just wondered what a beard would look like on him." - "Oh. I don't think he was the beard type of guy." - "You're probably right. Though his beard didn't grow so well yet so he preferred to shave it." - "Too young."

Perona nodded silently. He had passed on too young. There should have been more years left for them. Tears swelled in her eyes. Law lifted his hand to touch her back, but decided against it. Instead he gestured to the door.

- "Maybe we should go inside?" - "Yeah, you're right." She quickly rubbed her eyes, careful not to mess up her make-up.

After ordering their drinks they sat at a table in the corner. There was a small awkward silence between them.

- "So how have the interviews been?" - "Okay I guess. I'm probably not who they're looking for anyway." - "Probably."

Perona puffed her cheeks. He was not supposed to say something like that, but she let it pass.

- "How has your work been?" - "Busy."

Another awkward silence. This whole situation felt unbearable. Completely different from their messaging where he sounded positive and was quick to answer and keep the conversation going. Perona averted her eyes from him and took a sip of her drink. Law looked at his cup holding it with both of his hands.

- "Sorry. It's a bit easier to talk to others when not face-to-face." - "I- Yes, you're right."

Another silence. Perona looked at her bag and took her sketch book.

- "I showed them this in the interviews. They were pleasantly surprised."

Law eyed over some of her sketches and smiled a bit.

- "They're okay." - "Not just okay, but great, you ass!" - "What?"

Peronas hands flew over her mouth and Law looked at her shocked. To her shock he burst into laughter and she soon joined in.

- "Calling me an ass. What the hell?" He chuckled - "I'm sorry, you're supposed to be more supportive, stupid." - "I'm a bit of a pessimist to be honest. Don't want to get peoples hopes up so they wont be left down when they fail." - "You think I'm going to fail?" - "Definitely." - "Rude."

From there the conversation started to flow more naturally. It went into all directions and at times Law did bring up her husband and the memories he had with him. It felt so heart-warming that there were others who missed him as much as she did. Time passed rather quickly. Law persuaded Perona to let him walk her home and she finally did. They were in no rush and kept on talking. When they were at the start of her home road she stopped. Law studied her while she fidgeted slightly as she was thinking on how to express herself right to him.

- "I don't think it's a good idea to have you walk me all the way." - "Why?" - "Just- uh- I don't think my father-in-law would like it at all. He thinks this is a date." - "It's not?" - "It's not!" She cried out and blushed. "Well not in a romantic way or anything. Just two friends hanging out." - "Then there should be no problem." - "Well yeah, but still I'd rather have you not."

Perona looked down at her feet and spun her fingers. Law smirked and bend down to kiss her cheek. She squeaked surprised. Enraged she turned to chastise him, but Law was already walking off waving his hand.

- "Can't wait for the next not-a-date."

Perona blushed wildly and rubbed her cheek. The sensation that Laws kiss left her with was completely different from her husbands kisses. She felt guilty. Tears started to roll down her cheeks.

She missed her husband.

I totally know Zoro's birthday isn't in May, but on the other hand I didn't think the story would go this long. Thus the timeline is all fucked up. Sorry. ;A;

This is my first long story ever as I didn't even know I liked writing this much. I really thought I would get bored or something, as I didn't like my writing back then, but I was encouraged by people so I kept on going. I'm really grateful to them.

Now I like to re-read this and see myself getting better, when I compare the first chapters to the later ones. Also I like the story so... I've read this so many times. Most views are propably from myself. lol TwT

#MihawkxPerona #dracule mihawk #mihawk #perona #one piece #OP #onepiece #ミホペロ #Irreplaceable #fanfic

[miximax-hell]

There have been people, some truly wonderful souls, who have followed my blog during my long period of absence. For that, thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I don’t deserve that kindness. With that out of the way, hello! Once again, it’s been so long... And that’s exactly we won’t delve in the past now. Let’s get right to it!

Today’s miximax is one that can barely be recognised at all unless you’re specifically told who the vessel and aura are. So, just in case my handwriting is THAT awful, we’ll be talking about Sakuma’s miximax today! For him, I’ve chosen a wonderful character that is, quite literally, part of the history of videogames as a whole. After the news about a new Smash coming soon, the promise of Metroid Prime 4 for Switch, and the very successful (AND SPANISH) remake of Metroid II, it feels like a great time to bring Samus Aran into the battle! The coolest intergalactic bounty hunter there ever was makes for a very simple-looking miximax, but it was still quite tough to draw because of RUST. Ah well. No one to blame but myself.

Anyway, I think this deserves a proper explanation, so let’s see why these two make for a fantastic combo! For more on that, please check under the cut. As usual.

Well, you’ve made it this far, so let’s delve a little in the past now. ww Just yesterday, I finally finished writing my graduation thesis!! That means I’m finally free... for a little while. Just enough to enjoy half a month of debauchery AND SPEND TIME WITH MY GIRLFRIEND, WHOM I MISS VERY MUCH. Oh, and my internship ended about two and a half weeks ago, too. While I am free in that sense as well, I can’t say I’m a scriptwriter and game designer right now, which kinda sucks. But they might still hire me...! And I’m ruminating some exciting ideas of my own. I highly doubt the company I worked for will be interested in them, but, well, it’s worth a shot. And good practice, in any case. So, yeah! I hope you’ve all been well!

Anyway, let’s get right to it. A single paragraph of my life struggles was enough. ww

This is still a fairly small blog with less than 100 followers. And it will always be because of how niche it is. ww Not only that, but most of said (active) followers aren’t even friends of mine, but the aforementioned kind souls who, somehow, grace me with their presence here. That means that, for example, if I were to go on Twitter to talk about my projects for this blog (as I’ve done a couple of times in the past), only one or two of my friends would give a crap about it. And that’s assuming they see those specific tweets at all! Otherwise, the reactions I get are non-existent unless I’m specifically mentioning someone. And even that is far from being failproof. So, whenever I want to share my ideas with someone, develop them through conversation or brainstorm, there’s only one person I can rely on: my lovely girlfriend. She’s patient and super supportive of my work. Bless her soul. I’m so in love with her.

Anyway, thanks to how much I’ve ranted to her about SakuSamus, I’ve already typed down most of what needs to be said about why I think these two work so well together. I can also get away with mostly copying and pasting what I already told her over Skype and simply adjusting it a bit to make it more readable as a blog post and adding some extra details. ww So, let’s get to it!

Coming up with proper combinations for this blog can sometimes be a chore and require a lot of overthinking. However, as the wonderful @miyukiko​ would say, great ideas suddenly come to you sometimes. This had a bit of both. I'll try to skip the uninteresting bits of the creative process, but this is the important part.

Now that we've seen Sakuma in Ares and he's obviously won a lot of... prominence, if you may put it that way, it felt like a good time to take a closer look at him. Sakuma is a forward, and a pretty talented one, at that. When he becomes captain in the Ares timeline, though, his team comes to rely on him on a much deeper level too. Or so it seems, at least. To top it off, his descriptions in the original games say that he helps Kidou and acts as a strategist that coordinates the team. That’s pretty much the base we can build upon.

As a forward, he seems pretty thorough and tries to stay cool and calm, since that's the kind of soccer they play at Teikoku. And, from what we've seen in Ares, as a captain, he worries so much about his team's well-being and about being a good leader for them. You know, the usual "Am I fit to be captain?" thing that IE loves so much. ww

But there's a lot of bad stuff about Sakuma, too.

For one, despite his cool act, when he loses it, he loses it good. We all know how he reacted when he was part of Shin Teikoku and how extremely mad he would get with Kageyama, for example. Also, when he does lose it (and, arguably, even when he’s still somewhat sane), he's very self-destructive.

I think that's somehow linked to his fears: he simply doesn't want to be left alone. He panics when Kidou leaves Teikoku and, again, loses it completely. When his insanity reaches that kind of point, nothing else seems to matter, so he goes all out even if it can cost him his life. Or his legs, at least.

Related to that, and this is much more relevant in terms of sheer gameplay, he is extremely dependent of others.

He's supposed to be some super cool ace striker, but absolutely all of his shots are combo hissatsus no matter what timeline or age you’re looking at. Koutei Penguin 2gou and 3gou, Twin Boost, Death Zone, Deep Jungle... They all need 2-3 people, and, usually, Kidou's involved.

So, tough as it is to say, if Sakuma isn't by Kidou's side, he's subpar. And if he's all alone, he's basically worthless. And to add insult to injury:

He usually depends on people who aren't even forwards to score goals.

He is turned into a defender as an adult because, as I said, he's subpar as a forward if he's alone.

That makes Sakuma a very interesting case: in a universe that is all about the power you get from of your teammates, what he lacks is individuality. ...Especially when you consider that his only motivation to play soccer seems to be to play with Kidou. www

As he is, he's the absolute definition of support character. Pretty sad, if you ask me. (Oh. And many of his in-game hissatsus are very dirty and the referee complains more often than not about them. That counts too. ww)

So, here comes the difficult question: who can give Sakuma the strength, the individuality and, partially, the safety that he needs to be relevant without killing himself? After thinking about it for quite a long time, I felt like he could really use the power of Samus Aran.

(Not to go all BuzzFeed on you guys, but the answer would’ve surprised you if I hadn’t said it from the very beginning. ww)

On a technical level, Samus is strong af. Not only has she survived to and successfully finished every mission she's embarked on (as far as I’m aware), but she's pretty much exterminated full races, DESTROYED PLANETS and killed the same evil pterodactyl alien... thing that wants her dead like 11 times by now.

And what's more: she's done all of this completely alone. (Except maybe for Other M. I haven’t played that game yet, but it looked like there were more people, idk) All in all, she's a beast. But that's not all, of course. There are many heroes who go and do their thing alone. It could've easily been Lara Croft too, for example--at least in the original games.

Sakuma, as I said, seems to be driven by a will to be with Kidou and is very much dependent of other people. And when things go wrong and he loses it, he is... spiteful, to say the least. And I don’t know if you guys were aware of this, but Samus is 120% salt. I read a post about the hatred between Ridley and Samus that when Ridley was announced for Smash and all, but I sadly can’t find it right now. If any of you guys know that post, please let me know and I’ll add the link here because it was SO GOOD.

According to my limited knowledge on the Metroid Series, Samus fights three main things: metroids (you never saw that one coming, I'm sure), space pirates, and Ridley (who is the leader of the space pirates, but is not a space pirate because I, too, would listen to my Evil Pterodactyl Lord if he were to give me orders).

Long story short, the space pirates and Ridley killed Samus’s parents. She was adopted by people from a civilization called the Chozo, but the space pirates killed the Chozo too. And when Samus found a baby metroid that saw her as its mother, the space pirates and Ridley kidnapped the metroid and it eventually died because of them.

Samus doesn't fight for the greater good. Samus fights because she's fucking pissed.

But, unlike Sakuma, she uses that rage against the right people and in the right way: she is still salty as hell, but she stays cool, kicks ass, makes everyone go boom, and she's out. She does what Sakuma does, but better. Even when she's pissed. Oh, and she does things the way they should be done: with legal permission, without turning evil and stuff. And she's super respected and feared because of it, which is precisely what a captain and a forward should be like, respectively.

And the icing on the cake?

In IE3, when Sakuma has levelled up enough, he learns how to use Space Penguin. also, Samus has a visor thing that can replace Sakuma's patch and that sounded cool to me

Anyway, that would be the gist of it! As I said earlier, I’m not the biggest Metroid connoisseur in the world: I’ve only beaten Fusion and Zero Mission, and I’m currently playing Prime and Return of Samus. As such, excuse me if some other game I haven’t played debunks all I’ve said, but I haven’t found any traces of such a thing. ww

However, despite my few experiences with Metroid games, Samus is a character I love and have very fond memories of. This series represent what I love the most about the video game genre: that sense of continuous and hard-earned improvement that only comes from experiences that are constantly giving you new abilities (and even new looks) to reflect your progress. It’s similar to RPGs, a genre I love as well, but RPGs reward you more for personal progress and dedication, such as grinding for levels, and not (usually) so much for just pushing forward and defeating bosses.

Last (and least), for those who have made it this far, here’s a little something you might be interested in knowing: I’ve been inactive here, but I’m still constantly trying hard to come up with interesting ideas for miximaxes! And I think I have found some cool stuff for both Kidou and Shishido, so feel free to tell me on which of those you’d like me to work on next. They’re both very challenging to draw and fiddle with, but I’m always happy to shift my priorities in any way you guys want me to. ww

#Inazuma ELeven #Sakuma Jirou #Inazuma Japan #settei #info #miximax #mixi max #reasons behind the miximax #Inazuma Eleven Go #Inazuma Eleven Ares #Inazuma Eleven Ares no Tenbin

[boreothegoldfinch]

chapter 10 paragraph xxxiv

At last things began to clear out, but not much; people had started moving toward the coat check and the waiters were starting to remove the cake and the dessert dishes from the buffet when—trapped in conversation with a group of Kitsey’s cousins—I glanced across the room for Pippa (as I’d been doing, compulsively, all night long, trying to catch sight of her red head, the only interesting or important thing in the room)—and, much to my surprise, espied her with Boris. Conversing with animation. He was all over her, loosely draped arm, unlit cigarette dangling from his fingers. Whispering. Laughing. Was he biting her ear? “Excuse me,” I said, and made my way quickly across the room to them by the fireplace—where, in perfect unison, they turned and held their arms out to me. “Hello!” said Pippa. “We were just talking about you!” “Potter!” said Boris, throwing his arm around me. Though he was dressed for the occasion, in a blue chalk-stripe suit (it had often struck me, the hordes of rich Russians in the Ralph Lauren shop on Madison), there was somehow no cleaning him up: his smudged eyes made him look stormy and disreputable, and though his hair wasn’t technically dirty it gave the impression of dirtiness. “Am happy to see you!” “Same here.” I’d asked Boris never dreaming he would show—it not being in the nature of Boris to remember pesky things like dates, or addresses, or to turn up on time if he did. “You know who this is, don’t you?” I said, turning to Pippa. “Of course she knows me! Knows all about me! We are now dearest of friends! Now—” to me, with a mock show of officiousness—“small word in private. You’ll excuse us please?” he said to Pippa. “More private conversations?” Kicking my shoe playfully with her ballet slipper. “Don’t worry! I will bring him back! Goodbye to you!” Blowing a kiss. Then to me, in my ear, as we walked away: “She is lovely. God, but I love a redhead.” “So do I, but she’s not the one I’m marrying.” “No?” He looked surprised. “But she greeted me! By my name! Ah,” he said, looking at me more closely, “are you blushing! Yes you are, Potter!” he crowed. “Blushing! Like a little girl!” “Shut up,” I hissed, glancing back for fear she’d heard. “Not her then? Not Little Red? Too bad, huh.” He was looking round the room. “Which one, then?” I pointed her out. “There.” “Ah! In the sky-blue?” He pinched me affectionately on the arm. “My God, Potter! Her? Loveliest woman in the room! Divine! A goddess!” making as if to prostrate himself on the floor. “No, no—” grabbing him by the arm, hastily pulling him up. “An angel! Straight from paradise! Pure as a baby’s tear! Much too good for the likes of you—” “Yes, I think that’s the general opinion.” “—although—” he reached for my vodka glass and took a big slug before handing it back to me—“a bit icy to look at, no? I like the warmer ones myself. She—she is a lily, a snowflake! Less frosty in private, I hope?” “You’d be surprised.” His eyebrows went up. “Ah. And… she is the one.…” “Yes.” “She admitted it?” “Yes.” “And so you are not standing with her. You are annoyed.” “More or less.” “Well”—Boris ran his hand through his hair—“you must go and speak to her now.” “Why?” “Because we have to leave.” “Leave? Why?” “Because I need you to take a walk with me.” “Why?” I said, looking around the room, wishing he hadn’t dragged me away from Pippa, desperate to find her again. The candles, the orange gleam of firelight where she’d been standing made me think of the warmth of the wine bar, as if the light itself might be a passageway back to the night before and the little wooden table where we had sat knee to knee, her face washed with the same orange-tinged light. There had to be some way I could walk across the room and grab her hand and pull her back to that moment. Boris threw the hair out of his eyes. “Come on. You will feel fantastic when you hear what I have to say! But you will need to go home. Get your passport. And there is a question of cash, too.”

Over Boris’s shoulder: imperturbable faces of strange, cold women. Mrs. Barbour in profile, slightly turned to the wall, clutching the hand of the jolly cleric who didn’t look quite so jolly any more. “What? Are you listening to me?” Shaking my arm. The same voice that had pulled me back to earth many times, from fractal glue-sniffing skies where I laid open-eyed and insensate on the bed, gazing at the impressive blue-white explosions on the ceiling. “Come on! Talk in the car. Let’s go. I have a ticket for you—” Go? I looked at him. It was all I heard. “I will explain. Don’t look at me like that! Everything is good. No worries. But—first off—you must arrange to be gone for a couple of days. Three days. Tops. So”—flicking a hand—“go, go arrange with Snowflake and let’s get out of here. I can’t smoke in here, can I?” he said, looking around. “No one is smoking?” Get out of here. They were the only words anyone had said to me all night that made sense. “Because you must go home immediately.” He was endeavoring to catch my eye in a familiar way. “Get your passport. And—money. How much cash do you have on hand?” “Well, in the bank,” I said, pushing my glasses up on the bridge of my nose, oddly sobered by his tone. “I am not talking about the bank. Or tomorrow. I am talking about on hand. Now.” “But—” “I can get it back, I’m telling you. But we can’t stand around here any longer. We must go now. Right away. Off with you, go,” he said, with a friendly little kick in the shin.

#boreo #the goldfinch #the goldfinch donna tart #donna tart #boris pavlikovsky #theodore decker #theo decker #boris x theo #theo x boris #finn wolfhard #ansel elgort #oakes fegley #aneurin barnard #the goldfinch book #book #books #quote #quotes #lgbtq #lgbtqia #lgbtqia+ #lgbt #gay #gay ship #gay ships #otp #mlm #the goldfinch quotes #the goldfinch quote #boreo quotes

[btsinwonderland]

Love Me Better - Ch. 37

A Monsta X Story...

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Full Chapter List

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His voice reached out to her with a cold creep. She stared into his dark beady eyes looking for the mysterious undertone that came with everything he said but could only see static.

"We...something happened, Wonho is missing," she said as she looked away. "Where are the others?"

"Oh of course, let me take you to them. That's terrible news, he's missing?"

Vy heard his sincerity, there was something behind it but yet again all she could sense was static. He was a cunning man. Her and Lana were led to the warehouse. It looked a lot smaller from the outside but when the rusted doors opened she saw a very large area sectioned off into different spaces.

There were cubicles set up in one corner, a gym with large mats in the other. Big tables were setup around the perimeter. On the south end there were a few cars parked.

She walked over to a table and spotted Changkyun. He saw her and immediately got up with a smile. Before she could give him a hug, hands wrapped around her waist and a tall body squished hers.

"Jagiya! You're back I missed you!"

She smiled as she pried his hands off of her. "Hyungwon I missed you too."

When she turned around to see him she noticed bags under his eyes. Though he was happy to see her, there was something beyond his look she could not reach.

"How is everything here?" Vy said.

"Fine as it can be up in the middle of nowhere," Changkyun said.

She said "Where's Ki-"

"Ah you dragged bunny all the way here?" A tuft of pink hair came down the stairs along the wall beside them.

He wore all black and his hair was pushed back. Vy felt Lana shuffle closer to her. Kihyun came and gave Vy a hug. When he released her he just looked at Lana with a strange look and shook his head smiling.

"Where's Wonho?" Kihyun said.

Vy and Lana looked at each other. Vy took a seat and began to recant the events that led her to them. From when they left to when she saw Mr. Kim. She carefully left out the details of their ongoing investigation into the Park conspiracy since Mr. Kim was avidly listening. That would be the part of the story told in private. If they could even get some privacy.

"Eric? Are you fucking serious!" Hyungwon said.

Changkyun looked pale. "No! Our whole place is gone?"

"And we don't know where Wonho is or even if he made it out of the rubble?" Kihyun said. His voice was solemn and low. He lifted his head and said, "where is Shownu?"

Vy sighed and blocked out her emotions. She needed to be there for them now. It was not the time to lose her footing.

"Shownu said he had to leave to do something but we haven't really heard from him since he left other than him calling in to say he's been delayed," she said.

They all sat in silence for a while letting the absurdity sink in.

Mr. Kim then walked up to them all with a strange look on his face. As if he might unveil a large cake with Wonho and Shownu hiding inside of it. His face held a secret within a secret and his expression showed that he was about to reveal one.

"I have something to tell you all. Now that you're here," he said.

Vy felt her phone vibrate in her pocket quietly, someone was calling her. Mr. Kim was directly looking at her, however, and she did not want to show him any more than was necessary. She walked over to a table and sat down resting her head on her hand.

He watched her go and looked away to continue talking.

"I've gotten some disturbing news as of late," he paused and crossed his arms. "Wonho is a traitor."

The uproar was thunderous though no one said  a word. Kihyun clenched his fists but nothing more. Hyungwon was about to walk over to Mr. Kim aggressively but Changkyun stopped him.

Vy barely had time to think as her phone kept buzzing. She discreetly checked the screen and was shocked to see it was Shownu. She hit ignore and put the phone in her pocket.

She looked up to see Mr. Kim looking at her. Her expression was blank and she tried her best not to look guilty. She was not guilty of anything though her instincts violently shook her away from trusting Mr. Kim.

He continued, "I know this is hard to hear. It was hard for me. Especially after the news about Minhyuk-"

"Wonho would never betray us! Mr. Park is his father, he would never hurt him!" Hyungwon said.

"We also thought Minhyuk would never cross us either..." Changkyun said, barely a whisper.

Hyungwon silenced him with a strong glare.

Mr. Kim uncrossed his arms and clasped them in front of his body. "This is something we all must listen to with heavy hearts. Wonho was Mr. Park's treasured child, and for him to hear this news...Well it will bear an awful toll. Wonho was in fact working with the Hanamuri conspiring against the Park family."

"Where's the proof?" Vy said.

"We caught members of the Hanamuri during a run they were on, they were transporting bombs across the city. After...careful conversation, they gave up names. He must have used the Chain crew as a distraction to make his escape. He's now our number one suspect for this investigation."

The silence that followed was heavy. Hyungwon stormed off. Kihyun and Changkyun sat there with worried looks on their faces. Lana shifted uncomfortably in her seat beside Vy as she grabbed Vy's hand and squeezed it. Vy smiled at Lana and turned to look at Mr. Kim who started talking again.

"I know you all will need some time to take this in. I have another group searching for him as we speak. I'll let you know once we find him. Try to get some rest, we're heading out tomorrow morning."

He turned to Vy and nodded. She made a small effort to look more distressed than she felt. She felt distressed, however, they were not for the reasons Mr. Kim wanted. When he left with his team she looked over at Kihyun. There were few times she was good at wordless communication, but in that moment she was sure the same word passed between them. Bullshit.

Vy was about to say something when Kihyun put his finger to his lips. He gestured to his ear next and mouthed 'they are listening'. Vy was not surprised at this. No wonder the boys looked so off when she saw them.

Kihyun, Changkyun, Lana and Vy went outside to find Hyungwon. He stood several feet away from the warehouse on a thin beaten path. The pebbles crunched below their shoes as they approached. He was on his phone, repeatedly trying to call Wonho. He cursed aloud after there was no answer.

"Where the fuck is he!" Hyungwon said.

"I need to tell you guys the whole story," Vy said.

She then went through her story again but now with all the details of their investigation.

"So who made up the story blaming Wonho?" Changkyun said.

Vy was about to speak when her phone started buzzing again. She excused herself and walked off the path they stood on. The grass was tall where she stopped, it was up to her shins. The clearing ahead of her ended in a line of trees looking into a thin forest. Through the gaps in the trees she saw a dark void and eerie spots of moonlight.

She looked at her phone and hit the answer button. "Shownu? What's going-"

"Vy! You need to come here, now! There's no time to explain. Please, you cannot tell anybody about this, not the guys not anyone. I need you to go to the town of Veran." Shownu said. His voice was high pitched and panicked. She felt as though he was stifling a whimper.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t explain now, I-I need you please, come quick. I’ll text you the address. You have to come alone.”

“But-“

Then the phone call ended. Her statement was met with dead silence on the other end. She stood there looking at her phone, baffled. She looked up to see that the tree line got closer to her. Unconsciously she walked over to it. It looked more vast and frightening.

Her phone buzzed and just as was promised there was a text message with an address on it. She thought carefully about what Shownu said to her. He had been gone for weeks and now he expected her to drop everything? For all she knew he was setting up a trap. Then her heart sank thinking of him as guilty when she never second guessed Wonho. She sighed and closed her fist around the phone.

She walked to the group and stopped in front of Kihyun. He looked serious and tired.

“Kihyun, can you take care of Lana? I need to go somewhere, I can’t say where, you just need to trust me.”

Lana said, “Where are you going? Can’t I come with you?”

Kihyun grabbed her arm. “Come on bunny, I’ll take care of you.” He turned to Vy, “Kim’s not going to like this, you should leave now while he’s not watching.”

Vy nodded at Kihyun and smiled at him with thanks. She gave Lana a sympathetic look. Wide eyes looked back at her filled with concern. “Lana I’ll be fine, you stay with Kihyun and be careful. I’ll call you when I get back,” Vy said.

Hyungwon stepped in front of Vy as she turned to leave. “We just got reunited, you’re saying goodbye?”

Vy was about to brush off his humour when she saw the grave look in his face. She realized that he was still upset about everything. “Hyungwon, don’t worry. I’m going to believe that Wonho’s fine, he’s just being an inconsiderate ass as usual by not calling us.”

Hyungwon’s mouth twitched but he remained stoic as he moved aside. She gave him a reassuring pat on the arm and walked back to the car.

There were no other people around the area she parked. She climbed into the driver's seat and started the car. As she pulled away she noticed a couple of people walk over to the parking area but by the time they went back into the warehouse to notify Mr. Kim, she had sped off.

Now alone she looked ahead at the pitch black road in front of her. The headlights lit up a small amount of asphalt in front. Her body felt immensely tired as she had already driven for several hours on no sleep. Every fibre of her muscles yearned for rest but she pushed through it. The image of the address was seared into her mind and all she could do for the next six hours was wonder what Shownu had waiting for her.

Was it a trap?

Was he hurt?

Where was Wonho?

There were too many questions swirling in her mind. She decided to put the radio on. That was when she noticed the car following her a fair distance away. There was only one road from the warehouse and she knew Mr. Kim would not want her leaving without permission. She sighed and shifted gears, it was time to speed.

#monsta x #monsta x fan fiction #monsta x fanfic #monsta x hyungwon #monsta x shownu #monsta x wonho #monsta x minhyuk #monsta x jooheon #monsta x kihyun #monsta x changkyun #monsta x i.m. #shin hoseok #shin hoseok fan fiction #wonho fan fic #wonho fan fiction #gang au #mob au #love me better #writing #fan fiction #kpop #kpop fan fic #kpop fan fiction #monsta x trespass #monsta x beautiful #monsta x fighter #monsta x the clan #monsta x rush

[aleakimbtob-blog]

Twin Flames & True Love

Chapter 5: Coffee with me?

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Sungjae continuously  played with the retractable pen in his hand. He is reading the contract of transfer his father gave him. It states there that Yook Sungjae will temporarily be the CEO of 6JS Real Estate Co.  until his parents come back, all it needs is just his signature and that's it. The company name came from the combination of his parents names Yook Jae Rim and Shin Se Young. And the '6' indicates the 'Yook' family because 6 in Korean is Yook.

His mind is in a push and pull situation, still undecided. He leaned back to his swivel chair and looked up. He has so many things running through his mind and the thoughts ended with a picture of a girl with a reddish nose eating ice cream. He suddenly thought about her. Is Sooyoung okay now? Does she also think about him? When will he see her again?

He didn't realize he was smiling, staring at the ceiling "Wow. One second you look so problematic and then the next you're smiling like a fool."

Sungjae jolted and sat straight then looked at the door. There were his colleagues who are also his Changsub hyung's bestfriends from college.

"Ai- Minhyuk hyung! You scared me." Sungjae said with an annoyed look to the shorter handsome guy.

"What were you thinking about anyway? We thought you were going crazy when you suddenly smiled. The door was open and you didn't even see us here." The cute guy said laughing, his eyes are disappering into thin lines.

"Aniya, Hyunsik hyung, I just remembered something." He cleared his throat "what brings you here?"

"It's break time Sungjae-ah. Let's go grab something to eat." Minhyuk said folding his arms leaning at the door frame

Sungjae agreed, snatched his maroon coat on the chair and went out of the school with his two hyungs.

Lee Minhyuk is a P.E. teacher and also the school Sports Head Coordinator while Im Hyunsik is a music teacher and he owns a music shop right across the school.

They're both college friends of his Changsub hyung and he eventually became friends with them since they see each other everyday at school and eat together at breaks.

They crossed the street, now looking for a place to eat. "So, have you signed the papers yet?" Hyunsik asked

He shook his head "Not yet, hyung. I just can't leave SGHS you know, it's like half of my life is there. I love what I'm doing, it's what I've always wanted to do. It'll be different once I'll manage the company."

"Aigoo, just say you'll miss us!" Minhyuk bumped his shoulder to Sungjae's

"Aniya hyung!" He replied doing the same thing to Minhyuk

"Don't worry Sungjae-ah, we'll visit you there along with the guys. We'll cheer you up, SaJangnim. Right Minhyuk hyung?" He wrapped his right arm around Sungjae's shoulder and the other on Minhyuk's

"Right!" The three grown up men laughed and teased one another like kids.

"Where are we going anyway? 20 space?" Hyunsik asked them. It's the café they usually go to.

"Nah, we're always there. How about we find something new?" Minhyuk suggested and they walked a few more blocks when something catched Sungjae's attention

"Joy Café" he was thinking out loud. He thought of the name he called Sooyoung.

"That looks like a nice place." They stood in front of Joy Café

"Let’s go!" Minhyuk said leading the way

They entered the place and was struck with amazement. It was really nice and had happy vibes written all over it. They saw the mini playpen, some people are reading books while drinking coffee and others are playing board games.

"Welco-" someone said as he turned his head to see who greeted and was surprised. He smiled from ear to ear.

"Annyeong Sooyoung-ah. I didn't expect to see you so soon." He walked towards her. She was with two ladies. One blonde and had a wide smile, he assumes she is working behind the counter because of the uniform and apron. The other one has short hazelnut brown hair. They are all pretty, Sungjae thought. But she is the prettiest.

She was staring at him for a while until she came back to her senses "O-oh Sungjae-ssi! W-welcome! What will you three have?" She handed them the menu. She was palpitating and her voice made her nervousness show.

"Uhm, I'll have an espresso machiato single and blueberry cheesecake please" Sungjae said then looked at her

"Okay, how about you sir?" She asked Minhyuk and Hyunsik

"I'll have a caffé latté tall and uhm 1 slice of chocolate cake please" Minhyuk said

"For me a Cappucino grande, a banana muffin, 1 slice of red velvet cheesecake and a yogurt & granola parfait" Hyunsik giggled and all of them looked at him "What are you all looking at? I'm hungry."

They all laughed and Sooyoung motioned them to a near empty table "I'll be back with your orders in a while" she smiled and left.

As soon as she left, Minhyuk leaned closer to Sungjae "Woah there boy, where did you meet that fine lady? I thought you said you aren't going on meeting girls anymore?"

"Yeah and the last time I checked, you were still not over your childhood friend." Hyunsik teased

"We just met by accident hyung. I really stopped on meeting girls or going on dates or whatever you call them, a long time ago."

"Really? Well I can tell there is something by the way you looked at each other."

Sungjae shrugged "Aniya, I just saw her the third time today and all I know is her name and now I know that she works here"

"Well why don't you get to know her better? It wouldn't hurt to ask her out you know"

"That's right!" Hyunsik agreed to Minhyuk.

"Uh- what if she doesn't like me? What if she says 'no'? What if she already has a boyfriend? Or worse what if she's married!" Sungjae has a worried look on his face.

Minhyuk tapped his back "That's why you must get to know her better to know the answers to your questions pabo-ya. You're already 30 but you act like a high schooler about to ask a girl to be his prom date."

Sungjae suddenly felt nervous. It was a long time since he asked someone out, not to mention a girl he really likes. He just does flings to make him get over So Rim. But this time, its's different.

Wait, does he like her already? They barely had a conversation. All he knows is his warm feeling when he sees her and the feeling of longing when he doesn't.

Hyunsik rested his chin on his hand, he was thinking of something then his small eyes widened. "I've got an idea! You've got a pen with you?"

---

"Thank you and please come again!" Sooyoung bowed at the three when they left.

Sungjae was the last to exit when he looked at Sooyoung "Thank you too. We will definitely come back." He said and then closed the door.

Oh

my

goodness

Sooyoung thought, did he just winked at me?

She held her chest like something was about to jump out of it. What is wrong with her today? She stuttered and was palpitating the whole time they were here. She noticed Sungjae kept stealing glances at her. But it was really nice seeing him again.

"Sooyoung-ah! What was that? That handsome tall guy was obviously flirting with you!" Seungwan giddily said

"And I heard you said his name. Is he an old friend?" Yeri added

She looked at them both "eonnie, yeri-ah." She began "He was the guy I met at the park and at Han River. I saw him the third time today."

Seungwan and Yeri looked at each other then to Sooyoung and back to each other

"KYAAAAAH!" they both squealed causing some of the customers to look at their direction

Sooyoung bowed apologetically "I'm sorry." The she turned to the girls "Don't be too loud! You might drive the customers away." She shushed them

"But eonnie, isn't it like destiny? You saw him 3 times!" Yeri exclaimed "And you didn't have each other's contact number which makes it more amazing!"

"What are you talking about? It's just a coincidence, that's all." She shrugged

"You should've gotten his number, eonnie"

"Why would she? He is the guy he should make a move first!" The oldest opposed Yeri as she walked to the table, where Sungjae and his friends was, to clean it.

"Ah molla!" Sooyoung sighed and sat down "Maybe I'll just wait for the day we'll see each other again."

Seungwan walked back to them, holding a table napkin "Girls, the problem is solved!" She put the napkin down the counter table.

Yeri and Sooyoung looked at her, puzzled and they saw a cute handwriting on the tissue

To: Park Sooyoung Coffee? With me? Sometime? :) 010-222-8981 -6SJ

---

Sungjae can't sleep

He was pacing back and forth in his condo and kept checking his phone for calls or messages.

It's now 11:40 p.m. and she hasn't messaged him yet.

Hyunsik suggested that he write a message and his number on the table napkin. His reason is that it'll be less awkward if she rejects him through text than in personal. If she didn't text/call him, then the answer is a no.

Now he is anxious thinking about what if she doesn't text/call him. He looked at his handphone again "Aish- Molla!" He threw it on his bed, he was about to go out of his room when

~meokgo jago tto dwicheogidaga

ne saenggage nunmuri nayo

dapdaphae unjeoneul hadaga

heulleonaoneun eumage

He reached for his phone.

It was an unregistered number.

He swallowed hard

ttwittwippangppang

ttwittwippa-

"Yoboseyo?" His ringtone stopped as he answered the call. He was waiting for the other person on the line to speak

"Sungjae-ah. Naya, Donggeun. I lost my phone so I got a new one. This is my new number. Save it"

Sungjae's heart sank "Eoh, hyung."

"Hey, don't forget my photo exhibit on Christmas Day, arasseo?"

"Of course hyung! All of the guys will be there. You need to treat us after though" he jokingly said. He almost forgot his Donggeun hyung's first photo exhibit.

At least there is something he'll look forward too.

They said goodbye to each other then he ended the call. He sighed as he went to bed and decided to sleep with a sad feeling

He was getting drowsy when his phone vibrated

Buzz Buzz Buzz

He opened the message, again from an unregistered number.

He smiled as he read it. Maybe Donggeun's photo exhibit won't be the only thing he'll look forward to after all.

Not really a fan of coffee but anything would be fine, how about Friday? :) -Sooyoung