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sapphicstone · 2 months

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Soul's flower garden | broZone x Reader.

‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ꒰🌱꒱ ♡ ‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎ㅤ𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚣𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚡 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

summary: you're a gardener, so you have extensive knowledge of all the local flora.

pairings: John Dory x Reader, Spruce/Bruce x Reader, Clay x Reader, Floyd x Reader.

‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎ㅤ‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎ㅤ‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎ㅤhope you enjoy it!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ꒰🌱꒱ ♡

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ. . . . . john dory

JD drove frantically to Mount Rageous. The place where his younger brother Floyd was supposedly being held. You only knew him from the stories and photos John Dory had, you never saw him in person.

You saw when he read the letter that strangely reached Rhonda and you saw how worried he was.

Mount Rageous looked like an unhealthy place, although it seemed to be partly made of plastic or something similar.

"Wait here." John asked as he got up from the driver's seat.

"I'll go with you." You put down the book you were reading about the local flora and got up, intending to accompany him.

"No way."

And off he goes.

You've spent minutes waiting, after reading the whole book from start to finish, JD arrives with a slightly melancholy expression. He said nothing, just sat back down on the bench and turned around with Rhonda.

You didn't question him about anything in order to maintain respect. John would say an hour, in his own time.

The next day, Rhonda didn't want to walk. John Dory was explicitly worried when he turned the car around and realized that the armadillo simply refused to move. She didn't have the strength.

You both left. You were startled when you noticed the greenish tinge on the poor creature's face. As you approached her, you noticed the sickly look on her face.

"She looks terrible! She must have eaten something she shouldn't have on Mount Rageous."

"What are we going to do?" John looked even more worried.

You knew exactly what to do. Nearby there were some boldo leaves, you picked them and offered them to Rhonda, who frowned as soon as she smelled the plant.

"Come on, Rhonda! I know it looks bitter, but you have to chew it."

She obeyed. Rhonda got better a few hours later and John Dory showered you both with kisses and hugs.

You help John to stay away from plants that can cause allergies, since he loves walking through the woods and acts unconsciously most of the time.

Once he almost ate poisonous berries if you hadn't been around…

"Can I eat that?"

"If you want to swell up and explode into glitter, yes!'' One day, John was bitten by a carnivorous plant and didn't leave Rhonda for a few days. You laughed at him and he got upset.

A complete disaster when it comes to laughing plants, he hardly ever recognizes them. Lucky you know a cure for them.

He loves your knowledge of flora and constantly presents you with flowers he finds in his favorite book.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ. . . . . Spruce/Bruce

He seasons the food with plants that you take to Vacay Island.

Because it's an island, the plantation is somewhat limited, so you have to go out and explore a bit more.

Bruce goes along, he doesn't want you to get hurt while trying to pick plants to season the food sold in the restaurant.

"Do you think this would go well in soup?"

He thinks it's funny when you bring the plants close to your face and smell them to simulate a possible combination.

"No, dear. Try this one!"

"Incredibly delicious."

The best fruit salad on Vacay Island. The best drinks and juices too!

Bruce also gives you flowers and some special seedlings.

One day you told him about a flower that grows in all possible environments, even tropical ones.

Guess what? He found a way to get this flower and helped you plant it in a pot at the back of the restaurant.

Every day that flower grew more colorful and beautiful.

"My little flower" as he calls it.

"My little ones." As he calls his children if they have any.

Your house is all decorated. Flowers in pots, flowers on the ceiling, flower arrangements and the pantry is full of grains and vegetables that you grow yourself in pots for your own consumption.

He waters the plants every day when he remembers.

They all remind him of you, so Bruce doesn't feel lonely when he's away from you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ. . . . . Clay

Clay's office has never been as colorful as it used to be.

You work in a location a little further away from all the centralization of the putt-putt village.

Because she has a vast knowledge of plants, Viva has appointed her as a "healer". Always serving teas and medicines to trolls who end up injured or sick.

Clay admires you from afar. He gives you some books that he finds interesting, even though you have a collection of them and don't need new ones.

But you think it's cute and keep it anyway.

Afternoon tea almost every day! Clay gave up his coffee addiction for a while just to enjoy his delicious herbal tea.

Clay doesn't like sweets very much, he hardly eats milkshakes and French fries. So salads with fresh vegetables are always welcome!

You stock up on fruit and fresh salad for him in a little jar, always knocking on his office door to deliver it to him.

"Lovely pumpkin." That's what he usually calls you.

"Thanks for helping to look after us!" You say with a smile.

"You do it better than me."

One day you asked him to look at your farm. He liked it so much that, thanks to this tranquillity, he began to relax a little from his work as an accountant. Of course, he was still very professional, but with a little moderation.

You taught him how to pick moon fruit. They have the shape of the star and are naturally illuminated and he keeps one of them as a lamp in his office.

That way, he always remembers how special your relationship is.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ. . . . . Floyd

Skincare!

You definitely know the best plants that can take care of trolls' delicate skin. Almost every night before going to sleep, you rub some creamy plant on their faces and talk while you wait a few minutes for it to take effect.

Floyd has some trouble sleeping. Sometimes his body aches and his mind is agitated, so you prepare some herbal tea with calming properties so that he can relax and sleep.

Your cocoon is in the most flowery tree in the countryside.

Floyd would like to learn more about the flora. He wants to talk to you about his interests and loves it when you teach him something you've recently learned.

flower crown!

But Floyd ends up sneezing from the pollen.

Special fruit pies are always on the table. He loves his homemade sweets.

Floyd puts the flowers in a vase with water. There's always room for more vases inside the cocoon.

He has learned to eat some edible flowers and now always asks you to make some refreshing salad with them.

"Please?" He begs with piteous eyes.

"Okay, Daisy." You call him that and then give him an Eskimo kiss.

The shape of Floyd's hair resembles a tulip, however.

Floyd now smells of roses. And he loves it.

౨ৎ ˖⑅ ࣪⊹ ୨୧ ˖⑅ ࣪⊹ 𝜗𝜚˖⑅ ࣪⊹ ୭ৎ ˖⑅ ࣪⊹ ୨ৎ ˖⑅ ࣪⊹ ೀ౨ৎ ˖⑅ ࣪⊹ ୨୧ ˖⑅ ࣪⊹ 𝜗𝜚˖⑅ ࣪⊹ ୭ৎ

I hope you enjoyed it and sorry for any mistakes! :') masterlist

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sahbibabe · 4 years

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Hello! Hope you're having a wonderful day. I have a request, if that's okay with you. Can I have a soulmate AU 1#? The one about the craving? With Rufus? I was thinking, Rufus with a poor soulmate who craves the expensive foods he eats but doesn't have the money to buy them and sometimes doesn't even know what she's craving because it probably doesn't exist where she lives. I'm sorry if it's too detailed. It's okay if you don't want to do it. Thank you for taking the time to read this.

Here you go! I hope you enjoy! Tell me if you liked it and if not, what I can improve on! Thanks for requesting, hon! ♡

THE FIRST TIME IT HAPPENED, you were sitting in Seventh Heaven and trying to ignore the excited chatter and boisterous energy around you. You had just ordered what would be your meal for the night and the next morning─it was all you could afford, given your meager salary as a scrap collector. Tifa had given you a hefty discount, since you helped her out a lot by finding spare parts and fitting them to the building when she needed it, but you sometimes suspected it was out of pity.

Your dinner─a plate consisting of two pork chops, rice, and a small salad─had cost you twenty gil. In the eyes of some, that was cheap, practically a penny out of their pockets; but for you, that was half your salary gone, and you rationed out the rest through cheaply packaged ramen that ran for one gil at the market. You weren't very healthy as a result, but Tifa did her best to meet at least some of your body's nutritional requirements with what you could afford to buy. She had even slipped you a free slice of pie and a beer, said it was on her for helping out with watching Marlene, and disappeared before you could argue.

When you couldn't afford even ramen, you bought food replacement tablets. They were cheaper than even those packets of noodles, could be gotten anywhere, and worked well enough to keep your appetite low as long as you didn't burn off too many calories working. Compared to you, Tifa and her group were well off, and they bought more food than they could handle. They didn't even box the rest up; Tifa would, though, and stow it away for later for them. It made you angry, and a little jealous.

So when you had gotten the barest sip of your beer and tasted the most exquisite flavors you had ever been privy to in your entire life, you felt your mind go white trying to catch up with it. You had never tasted this before, whatever it was─it was strong, and tasted like pizza smelled, but it was… off, more potent.

Your sister, before she married and moved topside, had told you about this; that people, when they were a certain age, tasted what their soulmate was eating. She also had said sometimes people have threads, others have telepathic thoughts, and even names on their arms. There was no real rhyme or reason to it, she told you, but it helped narrow down the selection pool to general salaries. Whatever that meant.

The taste still lingering in your mouth, you looked down at your pork chops in disappointment, knowing you would not get the same satisfaction out of your food. You ate with a mechanical slowness, forcing yourself to appreciate what you got and to savor it. The beer and pie was only a little satisfying, mostly to your sweet tooth, but as you were walking to the bar to pay Tifa, the taste changed. Your soulmate was taking dessert, it seemed, because all you could taste was the cloying sweetness of strawberries and sugar, something tart or somewhat bitter.

Your stomach felt very, very empty.

You paid Tifa and she rung up your receipt.

"How was the pie?" She asked, her eyes bright. Keen on conversation. "Did you like it? You were pretty slow tonight."

"I'm sorry." You took the receipt from her and stuffed it down your bra with a sigh, too lazy to flip open the button lapel at your breast. "I just got my first… soulmate taste thing. Whatever you call it. I wish I could have enjoyed it more, to be honest."

"Really?" Tifa motioned for you to sit down. Clearly you weren't going anywhere until she got all of the details out of you, haven't experienced it herself yet. "Tell me all about it and I won't get offended."

"I'll take that," you laughed. Your stomach clenched uncomfortably, tasting the delicious dessert your soulmate was having but confused when nothing came down. "I don't know about the main course, but the dessert had fresh strawberries… I remember those from when my mom would steal them from up topside. Sugar. Something bitter, but with its own sweetness. I've only ever eaten ramen and your food my whole life so I can't say what it was."

You hadn't noticed that Cloud had taken a seat one over from you until he spoke.

"That sounds like the Soireé up top." When you blinked at the long absent merc with confusion, he elaborated grudgingly,"A lot of Shinra execs would eat it. It's a dessert. Strawberries and blueberries. I overheard a conversation about it. Sounds like what you were describing."

"Oh, so they must have money, then, to eat topside," Tifa gasped. "I wonder who it could be!"

"I don't know." You shrugged and rubbed your stomach, grimacing at the twang of pain. "Well, I'll head on home now. Thanks for the pie, Tifa. Just call if you need anything."

"Sure thing, [Name]! Get home safe."

For the next five years, you suffered with your soulmate's eating habits, and over time, you got good at determining when they ate. Their favorite food seemed to be some kind of soup that had very little flavor, but their palette was large and vast. They ate three times a day, ate a snack inbetween, or drank some gods awful concoction of chocolate and bitter powder that you couldn't stand and took days to get out of your mouth.

In those five years, you had gone from lowly scrap collector to the illustrious Madame M's secretary and student. She boarded you and fed you extremely better food than you had ever eaten before, supplied you with a far more generous salary because she liked you and treated you like a daughter, and even helped you get healthy and into physical shape.

You could massage someone's hand like nobody's business, or even do the poor man's massage, but what you really specialized in was a unique method of acupuncture that stimulated relaxation and blood flow. Madame M had deemed you successful enough to take your own clients, but refused to let you take hers; you had to gather your own.

So topside you went, clothed in traditional garb as she had told you, with your hair pinned up and decorated with jewels from Madame M's prized collection. She had given them to you with a proud smile, along with some rather serious looking adoption papers that would allow her to become your official mother. Even at twenty-nine years old you had cried like a baby and hugged her. She didn't even tut like she normally would and hug you back.

But as soon as you were topside, you couldn't resist it.

You tracked down the restaurant that sold the Soireé.

When Rufus woke up tasting strawberries and blueberries in his mouth, he sat ramrod straight in his chair. At his feet, Darkstar whined and nudged his knee, but he ignored it and focused more intently on the flavors playing on his tongue.

It was the unique taste of a Soireé.

Over the years, he had tasted many things, things that he had looked up and found belonged to the slummers, then the middle class elite, or the oriental flavors of Wall Market cuisines. None of it had ever come close to touching the foods that he ate or the indulgences he found himself to favor, but this was the first time he had ever tasted something so expensive from his soulmate.

A slummer no more, it seemed.

He raised an eyebrow and hit a number on a rotary phone his father insisted on keeping. "Tseng."

"Yes, Mister President?"

"Find out who's eating a Soireé at Vallei Astra."

Tseng was very, very quiet for a few moments. He wisely didn't question it. "Yes sir. I'll be back with you in a moment."

She sat on the back patio facing a genuine ray of sunshine. The manager had escorted him to her with a sickly smile, sweating bullets, and mumbled under his breath the entire time while he did. Rufus had quickly made him leave once he got sight of his target.

She wore the oriental styles of the Wall Market; a black kimono, a dark purple obi, and brilliant red and white cranes and dragonflies sewn into it with a careful hand. A very expensive piece of silk indeed. She wore true jewels in her hair, a far cry from a slummer's jewelry, and from behind, wore her hair in a high bun with some strands left to dangle around her shoulders.

He had seen Madame M once, when she answered a personal call for his father. She had left the building in a rage, but he had heard her yelling at him when the massage had been finished. Her obi har been untied when she left. Rufus could only assume his father had been attempting to make her his mistress.

This girl, her student, was bound to be a spitfire.

He straightened his tie and stepped outside. A pair of cool, calm [color] eyes turned and regarded him, a plucked eyebrow raised, as if asking who dared to interrupt her dessert. Even sitting, she looked down her nose at him.

Oh, yes, he would enjoy every part of this… Starting with those eyes.

#final fantasy #final fantasy 7 remake #soulmate au #soulmate #rufus shinra x reader #rufus shinra

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sserpente · 5 years

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It had been two months now since Loki had randomly crashed into your garden and into your life. The God of Mischief had landed right on top of your now destroyed salad plants. You would have been upset if, and now that was the odd part, you didn’t know that Loki wasn’t but most importantly one thing: namely fictional.

A/N: So many of you wanted Loki to end up with the Reader after he escapes with the Tesseract. Well, I decided to spice things up a bit. Besides, I got very inspired at the Prater in Vienna two weeks ago.

Words: 1946 Warnings: fluff, AVENGERS ENDGAME SPOILERS

“Tell me again why we are doing this in the singeing heat?” Loki remarked sarcastically when you entered the amusement park. You let out a relieved breath, stepping into the shadow of the nearby information counter and pulled out two full water bottles from your rucksack, one of which you handed to Loki. He took it greedily, drinking up almost half of it right away.

You blinked, paralysed for a moment as you watched his thin lips closing around it. He was gulping so thirstily you could see his Adam’s apple bop with very sip. He really was outrageously handsome.

It all made sense though, no? You had seen Avengers Endgame. Loki had snuffled the Tesseract and disappeared into a different dimension. And this dimension just so happened to be yours, in which the MCU was no more but a collection of fictional stories.

Naturally, the look on Loki’s face had been priceless when you told him things about his life not even Frigga knew… but eventually, he built something like trust. You were not quite sure whether it was the fact you had a Loki pillow you slept on every night or simply that you had told him that he was your favourite character and that you understood him in a way Thor never would. The latter you had said not only because it was the truth but also because he had intimidated and scared you a little when he first entered your house.

Then… you had ended up befriending him, a fictional character that happened to be not so fictional after all; and even… even beginning to fall in love with him. That was the confusing bit. Was he really? Real? What if you woke up one day and he had simply disappeared? While he had confirmed to you almost insulted he was indeed very real, another concern remained. What about Tom Hiddleston? They were technically the same person. Loki sure looked like him and he had been pretty amazed when you had told him about his actor’s existence.

Now here you were, introducing Loki to Midgardian life and fun activities so he could take his mind off things and until he had figured out what he’d do next. You dreaded the day he would leave you again, for you doubted he would consider taking you with him—so you enjoyed and cherished it for as long as it was going to last.

“We can go swimming after. But this is the last day the amusement park is in town. It’s fun, you’ll love it.”

“That is what you said when you made me try raw fish wrapped in dry seaweed.” He complained.

“Sushi. It’s called sushi. Come on, let’s go and do a rollercoaster first!” Excitedly, you pointed at one of the metal constructions. Loki slowly shook his head when he spotted it, watching one of the carriages go by with people inside screaming.

“Absolutely not. You go, I shall hold your bag for you.”

But you tried. You really tried. Every ride you got on, you attempted to convince him to join you but Loki was stubborn. At some point, you even wondered if maybe he was afraid of heights but that he had almost rudely dismissed.

You were about to give up when you spotted the ghost train on the right hand side—eerie skeletons hanging out of broken windows and a pair of yellow glowing eyes looking through an open door leading to a pitch-black cabin… and a terrifying laughter coming from inside the haunted house.

Confidently, you reached for his hand and dragged him towards it. But Loki would not move an inch. Instead, his blue eyes were fixed on something else entirely. Confused, he tilted his head. There was a girl queuing up for one of those scary sling shot rides—nothing special about her, really. But one thing caught his attention. She was carrying a Loki backpack.

You doubted it would be a good idea for him to simply walk over and say hello—and even though you felt rather proud your words proved to be true and Loki indeed had an army in this dimension, you somehow wanted to have the God of Mischief all to yourself.

“A most peculiar piece of luggage.” Loki noted, studying the golden horns attached to the green backpack. “I rather like it. Not as much as your collection of ‘t-shirts’ but it pleases me. Just how…” He trailed off, making you frown.

“How what?”

Loki smirked. A bitter smirk, failing to hide the pain burning in his heart. “It still feels much unusual to have… genuine supporters.”

That it did and it broke your heart he felt such incredulity about it.

“You have no idea, Trickster. I’m gonna have to introduce you to Tumblr sometime…” You mumbled.

“Whatever that is…” He replied, turning back to you as if he wanted to forget his thoughts and concerns. “What next?”

“Will you at least do the ghost train with me?” You asked, pointing at the haunted house.

“Define that.”

“You sit in a carriage that’s slowly moving in the dark and there’s creepy things installed jumping out to scare you.”

“That sounds absurd.”

“Pretty please? We can get some candy after.” You tempted him. Loki raised his brows. Now you had him. He really was a sweet tooth, this much you had found out already. His favourite was chocolate of course—all kinds of it, really. But you were dying to introduce him to candy floss. Besides, if you got him to join you on the ghost train, you had a legal excuse to cuddle up against him and hide your face in his chest.

Loki sighed. “Very well. But if I am going to regret this, you will pay the price, little mortal.” You knew he was joking. The playful tone in his voice made your heart jump and your knickers grow wet. Swallowing thickly, you approached the counter of the ghost train and purchased two tickets.

Only a few moments later you were both sat in one of the carriages. You jumped when it started to move inside the haunted house with a loud rumbling—and it was then you wrapped your arms around Loki’s middle already.

It was the first time he allowed this much body contact. Loki craved the attention, yet still acted very restrained around you. He chuckled when the first ‘monster’ jumped out from the dark and made you squeal.

“They are puppets.” He stated after two more jumpscares he was seemingly very unimpressed with. “Harmless puppets, darling.” Darling. That nickname alone had been worth it to persuade Loki to do this with you. And then, suddenly… you felt his arm around you, pulling even closer. Never before had you felt this protected and safe.

You were almost disappointed when the ride was over and you both had to climb out of the carriage again once you returned to proper daylight.

“If you are so scared of ghost trains, then why do you pay money for them?”

You shrugged. “That’s the point, really. It’s funny to get scared because you know it’s not real and then you laugh after. It’s fun.”

“Strange little mortal.” He teased playfully. “Now… as for my candy?”

You grinned. “Have you ever heard of candy floss?” Loki shook his head slowly. “It’s… well, you’ll see.”

Excited, you returned to the market stands, one of which also sold candy floss. His eyes soon widened when he spotted the fluffy clouds on sticks displayed in different colours of the rainbow.

“Which colour?”

“Green.”

“I thought so. The flavour will be green apple, is that alright?”

He nodded. Fascinated, he watched how the lady behind the counter made a fresh one for him after you paid her and finally, handed it to him. Greedily, he took it and dug his fingers into the soft sugar mixture. Only the blinking of an eye later, he had already shoved some of it into his mouth.

“So?” You asked with a smirk, reaching for the candy floss to taste it yourself.

“It melts on the tongue… delicious.” And he ate the whole thing in almost no time, throwing the wooden stick into a nearby bin. Well… he was a God. You chuckled.

“I’m glad you liked it.” You only wished he would look at you this longingly.

Maybe one more ride now and then you would take him swimming… it was still boiling hot and you feared you’d come down with a sunburn if you didn’t take a break soon to apply some sunscreen.

“Is that…” Once again, Loki stopped. This time, in front of another stand. A colourful one, with a striped roof reminding you of the circus. Inside, there countless plush toys waiting to be won. Your gaze followed his, causing you to gasp.

“Plush toys! Yes! Of the Avengers! Oh my God… look, they’re so cute! And so big! I want one!”

Loki rolled his eyes playfully. “Well, go and get one then.”

“You can’t buy them, you have to win them by playing the game. I’ll ask if he has a Loki plush toy, too, though.”

“Please…” Loki couldn’t quite decide if he should chuckle or roll his eyes again. He settled for both when you approached the owner of the stand.

“Oh yes!” He heard him say. “You’re lucky. There’s only one left, the Loki ones sell out quickly. But it’s one of the big prizes. You’d have to hit all of the targets to get it.”

Amused, Loki eyed the stand. That was all? Hitting five targets with soft balls? He could do that blindfolded.

“We shall try our luck then,” He tossed in, earning him a bewildered glare from the stand owner. With a little luck he would only think Loki was a really accurate cosplayer. Or he simply didn’t care. Or he hadn’t seen the Marvel movies himself.

Smirking, Loki handed him a fiver from the stack of ‘Midgardian money’, as he called it, and which he seemed to keep in his magical pockets you did not understand the concept of, and confidently reached for the balls in the bowl on the counter. Then, he aimed.

You watched, flabbergasted, amused by his sudden change of heart and somewhat turned on at the very same time as he took no more than forty seconds to get the job done, his muscles flexing in the process. Was it weird you wanted to lick that pale neck? Probably. But probably not.

“Now. The prize?” He mused proudly. You grinned. You doubted that the stand owner had any idea of what had just happened. Grumpily, he hand you the Loki push toy, mumbling something that did not at all sound like “congrats” but more like “fuckers”. You simply ignored him and instead stood on your toes to press a gentle kiss on Loki’s cheek before you took the plush toy with a happy squeal, pressing it to your chest firmly.

“Thank you, Trickster.” Loki smirked in response and winked cheekily.

“You know, as much as I enjoy it, I don’t think I shall ever get used to Midgardians losing their minds over my… what did you call it? ‘Fanmerch’. So… are we going swimming now?”

You giggled, leaning into him. “You really earned it.”

A/N: What do you think of this concept, guys? Of Loki being in ‘our’ dimension? Likey? I honestly think I could have a lot of fun with that in the future.

If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! kofi.com/sserpente ♥

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tinytony-snack · 5 years

Text

Pancakes and Henley shirts

[A/B/O, superhusbands, cute, funny, established relationship, mpreg]

“Good morning,” Bucky yawned as he entered the kitchen of the communal floor. If Steve wasn’t busy glaring at his pancakes, he would’ve told Bucky to cover his damn mouth. He growled thought, a deep sound that would’ve made anyone else turning back on the spot.

“I doubt it,” he muffled, having his mouth filled in with his breakfast. He was eating his usual huge number of pancakes, bacon and a spinach omelette, but instead of having a quiet breakfast, he was devouring the food as if they attacked him personally.

Bucky stopped, and a quick glance at his friend was enough to imagine how Steve’s morning went. “I should’ve known better than saying something as controversial as good morning,”

Steve grunted in response, a deep sound that came out of his throat, and stabbed an innocent piece of bacon. They stayed quiet for a while, Bucky poured himself some Cap’n Crunch cereal and milk in a bowl and sat at the kitchen’s aisle in front of his friend. Steve was fuming, and stabbing, and swallowing without chewing a pile of innocent pancakes.

Bucky cracked first, and after a heavy sigh he let down the spoon and glared at Steve.

“Clint said you didn’t say a word to him when he was here earlier, and something about killer vibes,”

Steve’s eyes widened in surprise, and a strong sense of guilt made the last bite more difficult to swallow. His rumbles eased, becoming a background noise.

“I didn’t notice he was here,” he admitted, lowering his gaze.

“Yeah, he figured. What’s going on Stevie?” Bucky had an inquisitor gaze, the kind that brought Steve’s memory back of almost a century.

Bucky was improving day after day, and they were all getting used to his presence in the tower. For Steve, it meant getting re-used to his ways of doing, and trying to keep separate what he remembered about his best friend and the person he became. They were two different people, even if Bucky had full control of his mental faculties again, years and years under HYDRA influence changed him at his very core level.

“Tony kicked me out from our bedroom last night,” he said, making a vague gesture with his hand — something he took from his husband — and talking like it wasn’t a big deal.

Bucky didn’t buy it and continued staring at him suspiciously.

“I asked him if I could wash him, a proper bath with scented salts and all the products he likes, and he,” Steve rumbled in distress again, filling his cheeks with all the food he could.

For a moment, he thought Bucky was smiling at him, a sweet and amused grin, but it went away quickly as he appeared.

“He got upset, accusing me to not liking him as before, that I only want to touch his-” That time Bucky interrupted him, with a screech of the spoon against the bowl.

“-belly,” Steve finished, glaring at his friend. “Next thing I know, he’s pushing me out of our bedroom, growling at me and yelling that I didn’t want him anymore, I was only interested in the baby,” three stabs followed his words, and his mouth was full again. His body required an incredible amount of food when he had to deal with Tony’s sudden mood swings and is pregnancy logic.

“And you haven’t seen him since?” Bucky sounded genuinely surprised: he hadn’t been around for so long, but enough to notice that whenever there was Tony, Steve was nearby. Their attachment even increased after the Omega got pregnant.

Steve shook his head twice, and with a sad sigh he got up to get more food. Twenty-first century made him an emotional eater, he coped drowning everything in maple syrup.

“I made breakfast before leaving this morning, hoping to eat it with him and settling his doubts, or, or fixing whatever I did wrong when I asked for a bath. He ate before I came back,” and that’s what really made him miserable: after a whole night alone, his Omega still avoided him during the day.

Maybe he really hurt Tony, he wasn’t only being over-dramatic or throwing a tantrum for his hormones out of whack. Steve had been patient during the past weeks, always support his Omega during the pregnancy: he prepared in time, he did all the lectures - and made Tony at least listen to him reading them - and asked JARVIS to find useful information on internet. There was too much trash over there.

Last night, the Omega caught him off guards: he didn’t expect to be accused of losing interest in the most brilliant, breathtaking, handsome man on the entire planet. The thought kept him awake all night, and he hoped breakfast would’ve been a chance to clarify, to remember Tony he loved him above anything else.

“Did you take off your shirt?” Bucky asked, bringing Steve back to the real world. He stopped with the fork mid-air, his lips already parted to take in the next enormous bite. He probably looked like a fool, mouth open and eyebrows furrowed, but he couldn’t process what he heard.

“Are you joking?” Steve let out another growl, a warning that resounded in the room. Bucky provoked his instincts by joking about his expecting Omega, and about the fight they had, as weird as it could sound. The other Alpha didn’t wince, he shrugged and dunk the spoon in the milk, while pouring more Cap’n Crunch.

“It works with Sam ‘n Clint,” he spoke while chewing, and it wasn’t pretty. A memory soothed Steve’s spirit: Bucky used to lose his charm when there were only the two of them.

“What?” He sounded hopeless. He needed all the help he could get to make Tony happy again. Tony’s anger was bad for both of them: his Omega was on edge, he was feeling the need to hide from his Alpha, and Steve couldn’t take care of his lovely Omega.

“Just take off your shirt and enjoy the show,”

Steve rolled his eyes up, and Bucky pointed the spoon toward him.

“Hey, how come after seventy years I’m still teaching you how to court pretty Omegas?” He sounded a lot accusatory for Steve’s likings, with the pointy spoon in his direction.

“And after seventy years, I’m still ignoring you,” he answered, very mature. His best friend had the ability to make him sound like a sixteen-year-old again.

They finished their breakfast in peace, Steve still focused on attacking the food and Bucky looking at him with a wry grin plastered on his face, sometimes chuckling and shaking his head, as if Steve was definitely beyond help.

After breakfast, Steve joined Sam in the gym, and actually asked for suggestions. Sam’s moral compass often led him to a solution; he trusted Bucky with all his life, but they still had very different ideas about relationships.

In fact, Bucky had joined Sam and Clint, who were already mates, after having experienced the free life twenty-first century allowed, while he had had his eyes only on Tony since he fell from a wormhole in the battle of New York.

After Sam finished laughing at him for being both dramatic idiots - Steve didn’t get upset anymore, he was quite used to it and limited to roll his eyes - he tried for real to help a friend in need.

Talking with him and releasing some frustration against two punching bags, made him recover sufficient calm to confront his Omega. He stopped for a shower first: Tony didn’t like when he showed sweaty in his lab, and the Omega’s mad already. Better not to make it any harder.

He sighed of relief when his passcode opened the tinted glass door: Tony threatened him more than once to change it without letting his Alpha know, and Steve thought, that time, he could’ve done that for real.

“Tony?” He announced himself, looking around to find the genius.

Tony was working on a 3D holographic model of an iron man boot and he didn’t turn around to face Steve, he acknowledged his Alpha’s presence only by stiffing for a second.

“Can we talk?” Steve asked, hoping to get a real answer. He stepped nearby, sitting on a swivel chair and leaning forward. He didn’t want to impose on his Omega, hence being on a lower height than him usually helped.

“What, you wanna ask if I’ve slept and eaten enough for the baby’s health?” He sounded strongly bitter. What would’ve been so terrible about that, anyway?

He knew Tony cared about their child as much as himself and was trying to quit bad habits like not eating enough, or not getting enough sleep, because he was too focused on something else.

Steve opened his mouth to answer, but Tony cut him off.

“Don’t waste your time here, I did, I did. I slept all night and ate everything you left, and I also watched a documentary about giving births, Jarvis will confirm it. It was disgusting, by the way. The documentary, not the food. Now that I think about it, also the food wasn’t that good. Clint had to remove every little piece of mango from my fruit salad. Why did you put it, were you trying to poison me?” A rush of words hit Steve, leaving him disoriented and confused. Tony was talking and moving agitated, and the growls Steve was hearing weren’t a good sign either.

“Wait, Omega wait. Of course I wasn’t trying to poison you. Since when you don’t like mangoes? You made me buy one just the other day,” it wasn’t the first time Tony was being unreasonable, and his pregnancy hormones made it worse.

“Can’t I change my mind? I bet you wouldn’t hold it against your child!” He yelled in Steve’s face, who was looking more worried second after second.

“I’m not holding anything against you, I didn’t even bring it up! Why do you think everything I say is only about our child?” He resisted the urge to stand up and to physically make Tony listen to him. He would never hurt his Omega, but someone needed to get him out from his own head.

“’Cause it’s true! I know when you said I love you, in reality you mean the baby. I don’t matter anymore, and you’ll get rid of me eventually,” that only left Steve with the most ridiculously baffled expression, with open wide mouth and eyes.

He was about to talk back, and standing up just to make a point, but arguing with Tony exhausted him and it wasn’t good for the Omega too. He didn’t want to spend another night alone, and not being able to look at Tony in the morning, wandering around with the cutest sleepy head and making grabbing hands toward him until Steve put a mug of hot coffee under his nose. Well, it hadn’t been coffee since the Omega got pregnant, but they didn’t talk about it.

Forgetting everything Sam said only half an hour earlier, Steve stood up carefully, without meaning to appear authoritative. He unbuttoned the three buttons of his gray Henley shirt, after which he removed it in a slow motion. Tony and his growls froze, and it was his turn to look stunned and bewildered.

“Huh, oh. You’re... You had...” He waved with his hands in Steve’s chest direction. “There are muscles,” He had his mouth wide open and was gasping for hair, without stopping his hands which were creating imaginary shapes in the air at Steve’s abs height.

That was new for Steve: he knew very well Tony could ramble disconnected words for minutes when he was nervous, but he was never wordless. Steve couldn’t remember a time when Tony had to search for words, instead of having a million of them already on the tip of his tongue, ready to talk a mile a minute.

He didn’t look upset anymore, and that was very positive, therefore Steve decided to use that as an opportunity to make peace. Since Tony was remaining still, except for his hands and mouth, he closed the distance and took Tony’s wrists, yanking slightly to make his Omega pressing his fingers against his own chest.

Tony’s scent instantly surrounded them, sweet and yet powerful, leaving Steve amazed. It was the scent of a pregnant Omega: it smelled like fresh, beautiful flowers, with something of warm and tantalizing brought about by his arousal.

His Omega was excited, and Steve released a low rumble of approval from his chest.

“O-oh,” Tony stammered, stroking him over his pectorals and down to the abdomen, following the marked lines of his muscles. “God, you’re gorgeous,” a purr from the Omega, vibrating though his body and curling the edge of the words.

The purrs increased as Tony pressed his faced in the middle of his chest and inhaled deeply. “Alpha,” he moaned around the word, melting like the sweet, perfect Omega he was.

Steve couldn’t believe Bucky’s questionable method worked, for that reason he took a few seconds before reacting. He had his Omega completely relaxed against him, his delicious scent was filling his nose and he could sense a rush of Tony’s wet slick pooling between his thighs. Fuck, he could already feel the delicious taste on his tongue.

He let go of Tony’s wrists and embraced him with an arm, lifting his chin up with the other hand, forcing him to look up. Tony’s eyes were lost in the haze of pleasure, his vision was blurred, softening at the edges.

Steve’s smile was soft then, sweetened by Tony’s cute expression and loud purrs. “You okay sweet thing?” He asked softly, bumping their noses together affectionately.

The Omega buried his face again in Steve’s neck and nodded, still stroking his fingers over the Alpha’s muscles. “’m fine,” words muffled by his position, but Steve already knew it, anyway. “You smell good,” he mewled, stroking his lips against Steve’s skin, making the Alpha groan, his eyes falling shut.

Steve tried to ignore the tightness in his pants; as badly as he wanted to bend his Omega over the nearest surface and resume the previous night activities, for the sake of his marriage he forced himself to settle. Bucky’s method was dangerous, having Tony’s pliant in his arms was making him forget he had somewhat hurt his Omega.

The Alpha allowed himself only a deep breath of Tony’s hot scent, rumbling deep in his chest, a coaxing sound that had his Omega purring in response.

“You smell incredible,” he stated breathlessly. He was overwhelmed by how good the Omega smelled, and his hands, both on Tony’s back hugging him tight, twitched to grab two handfuls of his swell ass.

“Wanna tell me why you were mad?” He nuzzled his nose in the Omega’s hair, stroking his back and shoulders gently.

Tony circled Steve’s neck with both arms, and looked at him directly in the eyes, for real that time. Steve waited, gaze awed by the beautiful face he was observing, and the Omega stuck out his lips, closing his eyes and leaning forward.

He was demanding a kiss, and Steve huffed a laugh, but he wasn’t really laughing, it was full of fondness as he gave Tony what was due him. “Cute Omega”, he whispered, kissing him carefully, cupping his jaw gently, his thumb brushing over his cheek.

Tony’s answer was to purr again, knowing how he affected the Alpha. But Steve needed answers and growled back with a bit of a warning. The Omega pouted, so adorably the Alpha had to resist kissing him again.

“The baby gets all your attention, you never look at me anymore. You- You’ll grow tired of me, bored.”

“That’s not true, I always look at you,” Steve said seriously.

“Only at my belly,” he pouted more, and moved his gaze away.

“At you,” Steve’s voice was final, leaving no room for confusion or misunderstanding. He cupped Tony’s cheeks, gently, he didn’t force the Omega to look back at him but he did, and Steve kissed him on the lips. Tony wrinkled his nose but kissed his Alpha anyway, digging his fingers in Steve’s biceps and using them as a lift when he raised on tiptoes.

The kiss lasted long that time; they kept it chaste, soft lips moving across each other’s with a light caress, every little movement expressing every bit of love they had for each other. It was an amazingly big amount, and they felt it all. Tony tilted his head back, and the Alpha growled possessively at how perfect his Omega was, at how he tasted so good, all for him.

“Christ, you’re beautiful,” Steve breathed the words on Tony’s lips, eyes half-open and fingers laced in dark, short hairs. “I’m still trying to figure out how to make you understand...”

“What?” Tony asked, blinking slowly. Steady purrs were vibrating from his throat.

“How amazing you are. Brilliant, the bravest person I’ve ever known. Too reckless for your own good, and it scares the hell out of me, but that’s how you are. Kind, funny, and so so very smart. You’re the only person who knew how to help me understand a world I could hardly recognize. I know I don’t talk about it, but it was bad before you. For me, it was terrible, I had lost everyone and everything I knew,” he had to stop for a second, just admiring the view.

Tony’s hazel eyes were wide open, liquid and wet at the edges. He wasn’t pouting anymore but his lips were still curled, as if he was keeping them still. He was. Tony’s lips always trembled a little when he was emotional, and it was another detail Steve loved about him.

“Are you gonna proposing again?” Tony’s throat sounded dry. Typical of him, joking at the worst possible time.

Steve chuckled, shook his head and pressed his lips on his Omega’s forehead, keeping them there. “Silly Omega, I would propose to you every day”

He heard a soft gasp from Tony, then strong arms circling his waist, and the profile of the Omega hiding below his chin. He fit there so well, the first time it happened it made Steve stop searching for a sense of belonging; he found his home.

“How could I ever be bored with you? I want to spend every day taking care of you, baby or not on the way. You’re the one I love, the one I want to grow old with, laughing at terrible jokes and worrying for your life every time you put yourself in danger to save others,”

Steve hugged Tony back as tightly as he could, straighten himself and lifting the Omega up with one smooth movement. Tony instinctively wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist as he did, without even a flinch, and still with his face hid in the Alpha’s neck.

“You’ve planned dis,” a sigh from the Omega, who sniffled. “You’ve planned to make me cry,” another sigh as he went on with his accuses.

Steve’s smile was big and bright, the kind that only Tony could make him do. He started moving slowly, the weight of his Omega was almost non-existent but in real he didn’t have a place in mind where to go. He just wanted to keep hugging Tony, soothing him with feather-light kisses on his cheek and gentle rumbles.

“Yes, I did. I’m a master strategist, I’ve planned to get you mad just to make you remember how good I am at removing shirts and do declarations of love,” he joked too, easing the atmosphere.

A wet giggle escaped from Tony, and his entire body shook because he was trying to not laugh. A fist bumped Steve’s shoulder, lightly but firm.

“You’re good at removing shirts,” the Omega confirmed.

“Are there any chances we can keep it between the two of us?”

“Not one, mister Rogers,” more giggles followed the words. Steve couldn’t blame him, Bucky’s method worked, eventually.

“What if I’ll bribe you, mister Rogers?” He asked affectionately. They both changed their last names after the wedding, and the complete version was Stark-Rogers, but every variant was like honey for his ears.

“... What kind of bribe?” The Omega asked after a moment, sounding amused and pretty interested.

They left the lab while talking; Tony was leaving a trail of delicate kisses on Steve’s neck and jaw, sometimes rubbing his nose against his skin to scent him. Steve was just gladly enjoying all those sweet attentions and couldn’t wait to reach their floors to reciprocate.

“Hum, I’m thinking about cheeseburgers and ice cream for lunch. How does it sound?”

“Shit, it sounds good,” and the keen Tony made, Steve could only consider it as lascivious. Maybe Steve was getting lunch earlier that day, a tasteful, trembling and moaning lunch.

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feelingfolegandros · 4 years

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Day 2,3,4, - Wednesday, October 28 - Friday, October 30 2020

Apparently I’m a masochist, because I scheduled two client sessions for my second day back. Well, technically they scheduled themselves that day, but I blame myself for opening my calendar up so soon. Oh well, c’est la vie! I am blessed to have work! Especially work that doesn’t really feel like work. And really, the most lovely people somehow want to work with me, so that feels great.

The first one was at 9:30am, and I thought I’d do it in my bedroom, because I have a little desk setup in here that is something in between a coffee table and a side table with a very loungey chair with pillows to cushion my butt.. I love it. However, the internet in this room doesn’t always love me. The connection in this particular room isn’t so stable, and it was making it difficult to have a flowy conversation with my client. After moving into the main room where B.W. was working away on her laptop (we’ve joked that it’s our coworking space), I couldn’t concentrate... When I have a one-on-one session, I really need total silence and privacy otherwise it kind of all goes to shit haha...I decided to ask my client to reschedule and she happily obliged. Phew! We had our proper session the following morning (Thursday) and it went well.

On Thursday, I turned on TV in the living room/ coworking space for the first time and someone’s Spanish Netflix account was still logged in. Score! Not because I need to use a Netflix account (My Dad pays for a shared family account, thank you very much), but because I didn’t have the patience to figure out how to log in or type in my Dad’s email with the freaking TV remote. I gleefully watched Season 4 Episode 1 of Keeping Up with The Kardashians while lying down on the couch eating pasteli (I think that’s what they’re called.. It’s these Greek snacks made of sesame seeds and honey). I don’t think I’ve seen this season before… But it takes place c. 2009 or so when Khloé has her whirlwind romance with Lamar Odom and they get married about a month after they first start dating. Honestly… iconic. I found myself drawing parallels between Khloé and myself. The situation with my boyfriend also feels like quite a whirlwind although I’m not expecting a proposal nor a wedding anytime soon. However, I can’t say I haven’t already fantasized about our Big Fat Greek Beach Wedding, possibly held at the same taverna we met at.

On Wednesday night, I went for a solo walk in the early evening in Chora. I love being alone here. I spent a lot of time alone on Folegandros when I came for the second time from mid-September to early October. Later, Z.X. came over, mostly because he forgot his phone charger. He ate too much and was a bit stressed about some things regarding his house (which he is renovating himself) so I made him a mint tea. The next morning (Thursday), I discovered we had fresh mint in the garden! So lucky! The mint made an appearance later the same day when I brought a bunch of it to my friend C.D.’s house. He is the brother of the bride of the wedding where Z.X. and I met. I met C.D. at the taverna he works at in the summer alongside his sister. They’re both amazing and funny and warmhearted. C.D. basically lives next door to B.W. and I, and we both paid him a visit - bundle of mint in tow. He boiled water in a traditional Greek coffee contraption for our tea, and we all drank our beverages outside, even though it rained earlier that day. He made himself a freddo espresso with milk.

C.D. worked in IT in Athens for much of his life, but moved here at the end of January for a fresh start, away from city life. The four of us - the two Greeks Z.X., C.D., and the two Berliners B.W. and I all moved here for the same reason this year… Very interesting! It’s nice to be around people that are all still enthusiastic about the island. Some OG locals, ie. those who were born and raised here, are a little more jaded after the decades they’ve been here. Living somewhere, anywhere, long enough, you’re bound to find things about it that irritate you, even if you live on an island where each beach you go to is more beautiful than the next.

Today is Friday. Z.X. proposed we go to the beach today, so he picked B.W. and I up around 13h. Before that, we put a load of laundry in and I took the garbage we’ve accumulated over the past couple of days to the bins near the bus stop. (It’s important to note that the plumbing here on Folegandros like much of Greece, is not that robust, so you’re not supposed to flush paper down the toilet. So most people put their used toilet paper in a bin. Hence, part of the reason why we had accumulated two medium-sized bags of garbage in a few days.) I realized on my way back home that there were bins much closer to the house. Another too-late realization was that the shortcut I took on the way there cut through a sheep’s / goat’s pasture. I did notice some poop as I was walking through, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. Are goats chill? I have no idea… I won’t take the risk again, and I also noticed two locals taking the official shortcut which doesn’t involve shuffling over two waist-height concrete walls… It involves using makeshift ladders to scale them!

Back to the beach! This time, we went to Livadi beach near the port. While B.W. was gleefully swimming parallel to the shore, Z.X. and I were standing about ankle-deep in the water. Suddenly, we felt the submerged sand below us slowly, surreally shift. (Too many “s” words, but I’m leaving it… hahahah) I’m not sure who mentioned it first, but we soon concluded it must have been an earthquake. It reminded me of the only other time I felt one - just over a decade ago when I worked in a giant office building one summer. To me, it felt like a strange tear in the time-space continuum, a strange physical and existential headache, and like techtonic plates below were shifting (which I guess they technically are). Anyway, Z.X. and I got out of the water, more in awe than afraid, and he called one of his friends, who also felt it, and experienced it as dizziness. He checked his phone and there was indeed a 6.6 earthquake further north in Greece. On Samos, two teenagers lost their lives, and in neighbouring Turkey, there were more deaths and injuries as part of the country experienced a tsunami.

Z.X. and I planned to see each other next on Saturday night, but he called me later on Friday saying that Ireni’s Restaurant (my favourite) was serving rabbit tonight, he was going to eat there with a few of his friends, and would I like to join? Hell yes I would… Hell yes I did. Ireni - a Greek grandmother / matriarch / goddess / chef extraordinaire - obviously stewed those rabbits for us like they were the last rabbits she’d ever stew. They were served very simply with French fries, but we also had chorta (bitter greens) and Greek salad before the main event. Everyone drank alcohol… white wine and Raki I believe, probably beer too, while I had my usual neró (water). It was my first time eating at Ireni’s since the summer, and I was so delighted to be back there. Meeting Z.X.’s friends was great too. One of them lives on Folegandros too, and has a lot of common with Z.X. The other two live in Sifinos (either that or Sikinos… so confusing!) and were in town for a month or so. They could all speak varying degrees of English (more than my pathetic amount of Greek) and it was yet another elbow in the side from God or whoever to learn some more of this beautiful language. Photos from that meal below...

That’s all for now. I have a lot of catching up to do on my daily life here… Both in writing and in general (all shall be revealed soon), but I hope you’re enjoying reading all of this, whoever you are....

#folegandros #greece #winteringreece #feelingfolegandros

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agentmothman18 · 5 years

Text

Rapr

Being a science geek, Purple tended to do research on nights he couldn't sleep. Sometimes he would research things about space or what could possibly be at the bottom of the ocean. But tonight he decided to do human research and weird facts people dont know about.

One of those were about the pupils and how they dilate when looking upon someone you love. He found himself laughing at the thought, but he was curious to know if it was true. It would make finding someone to love you easier than it was.

Purple jotted down some notes and some reminders on a sticky note. He stuck it to his science notebook pulled off his red glasses. It was 1 am and Purple still had school tomorrow, which he wasnt looking forward to. They where having exams this week and tomorrow, or today rather, was history. His least favorite subject.

Turning his computer off, Purple got up and stretched his muscles. Being hunched over for so long really does a number on your body. Purple climbed into bed, fluffing his pillow before snuggling into his covers and closing his eyes.

One thing about Purple though, was that he tended to have restless nights. Nightmares kept him from ever getting good sleep. They were nightmares from his past, things that haunted him even to this day. Since he was an orphan, Purple's had plenty of foster parents. Most weren't to good to him. Until he was adopted by a woman and her wife. Gaz and Tak.

Gaz was the more scarier of the two, making sure Purple knew his manners and everything. While Tak was laid back, letting him do as he pleased. But Tak would discipline him if necessary. Purple was glad they adopted him, because they were the best people he could have ever wished for as parents. Plus, he got to make a lot of friends where they live. Like Zim and Red.

Purple woke to his alarm at 5:30 that morning. He always got up early to make sure he had everything and to get ready. Purple liked to look fashionable so that took up most his morning time. And sometimes he would were makeup, but those where only on days where he felt good about himself. Today wasnt one of those days, he was way to stressed about his history test to care about makeup.

"Momma G!" Purple quietly called, knocking on the already open door. Tak and Gaz usually left their door open because Purple would sometimes sneak into bed with them. Those where on nights when his nightmares got really bad. And when the doors where closed, Purple knew not to bother them. "You have work in an hour." He added, gently shaking Gaz to wake her up. Purple smiled when Tak groaned and wrapped herself around Gaz.

"I'll get her up in a few minutes, Pur." Tak hummed, her eyes still closed as she buried her face in Gaz's neck. Purple always thought they made the cutest couple, and he wished he could find someone like them.

"I'll make breakfast." Purple told Tak quietly, quickly leaving to work on that. So he cooked breakfast, pancakes for Gaz and eggs for Tak. He made himself some French toast, which was probably his favorite breakfast food.

Around 6:20 Gaz came down, fully dressed for work, and ate her food. She kissed Purples cheek, telling him to make sure Tak doesnt fall back asleep before he leaves, and left. Purple cleaned his dish and Gaz's, walking back upstairs to check and see if Tak was up and moving. She had a bad habit of going back to sleep when Gaz leaves.

7:30 rolled around and Purple had gotten all his stuff together. Normally he would pack his lunch but he kinda stopped after Red started bring him something instead. It was usually a surprise, but it always tended to be something he really likes.

"Pur!" Tak called from the front door, coffee in hand. Purple never understood how she could drink it black. It was way to bitter and nasty without creamer and a pinch of sugar. "Red's here to pick you up!" Purple quickly made his way downstairs, pulling on his favorite converses.

"Dont go back to bed momma T." Purple laughed, kissing her cheek and making his way to Red's car. It was a black Kia, simple but very nice. And the best part about it was the insides smell. Which was always roses and rainwater, something Purple suggested 2 years ago when Red got the car.

And thus, the rest of the day was pretty normal. Purple of course was studying his head off for the History exam he had after lunch. He practically knew everything that he needed to know, but that didnt stop him from worrying. Of course, Zim was the one to notice this at lunch time.

"Stop biting your lip!" Zim demanded, causing both Purple and Red to jump in their seats. Zim was very short compared to the two other boys. But he was the loudest. "No one will want to kiss you if you make them ugly." And he was very harsh too. Though Zim was a good, loyal friend to them. He means well, even if he comes off as an asshole sometimes.

"Sorry." Purple smiled in a guilty way, letting his bottom lip go. He honestly hadn't even noticed he was doing that. It was just a habit he did when he was stressed. So, to calm himself a bit, he tired to forget about it. Taking a bite of the salad Red had brought him.

That's when he remembered the note on his science book. Glancing around, he wondered who could be in love and with who. There where plenty of couples, but it would be weird to stare at them. He wondered if Red's eyes dilated when he was looking at his girlfriend, Jess.

So he tried to subtly watch the couple, who he actually didnt like being a couple. Jess was pretty new, only been here for two months, and Purple was already jealous of her. She stole all of Red's attention and tries her best to rub it in his face. Becuase at this point, it was kinda obvious Purple had a big crush on his best friend Red.

He watched as they talked and smiled, doing normal couple things. But as he watched, he noticed how Red would glance at him more than he thought he would. Their eyes met a couple times as well, both smiling a bit at each other. But Purple found himself not knowing whether to smile like an idiot or be surprised. Because every time Red looked at him, his small pupils grew bigger. Like they would after getting those eyedrops from the eye doctor.

"Red." Purple said, grabbing the boys attention away from the girl next to him. He watched as the boys pupils dilated once again, and the questioning look appear on his face. "Look at Jess then back at me real quick." He smiled, trying not to giggle at how confused Red looked. But even though Red was confused, he did as told, not knowing what this was about.

Purple felt butterflies erupt in his stomach at the possibility that Red may love him. But he also had to question if it was romantic love or friendship love. But he didnt care, because he was going to tell him. Via sticky note.

Quickly jotting down his little confession and why he asked for Red to do that, he got up. Folding the sticky note, Purple handed it to Red and quickly headed for History. The bell hadn't rung but he knew the teacher would let him in to study in peace.

By 7th period, Purple was regretting giving Red the sticky note. Because Red was his ride home and he may have ruined that. Because what if Red really doesnt like him like that and he confessed for nothing? That would completely embarrass him.

"Dont forget to read chapters 6 through 10." Mr. Dib called once the bell rang and his students jumped to leave. The only one not jumping to leave was Zim, who was probably going to harass the poor man again. Zim, in lack of better words, was a hoe. Of course, he wasnt, but sometimes Purple had to wonder. Because once that boy finds someone attractive, he tended to not leave them alone until he was satisfied.

"Zim staying back with Mr. Membrane?" Red questioned, falling into step beside Purple. Purple nodded, trying not to let his mind think of the sticky note.

"Yeah. I feel bad for Mr. Membrane. He never gets a break from Zim." Red laughed in agreement, knowing it was true. "I mean, sure he's pretty hot but Zim could get him fired." Purple groaned. He would hate to lose his science teacher, especially since Dib made the class fun. There was always a new story to tell or some cool group project they got to do.

"I'm sure that wont happen. The man should know not to succumb to a needy teen like Zim." It was Purple's turn to laugh then.

And things stayed normal for the ride home. Both just talking about the usual things and even some random stuff that pops to mind. It wasnt until they got close to Purple's home that the conversation turned to the sticky note confession.

"So my eyes really dilate when I look at you?" Red questioned, glancing towards Purple before looking back at the road. He didnt really believe that but he wasn't going to deny he liked Purple. Ever since Purple moved to their town 5 years ago, he's liked him. It's why he always does things to accommodate him. Like bring him lunch, stay up late when hes ranting about something, and even the air freshener in his car. They where all simple things, but they mean more than just simple friendly gestures.

Purple began to pick at his jacket sleeves, trying to think of what to say. He could say yes but that didnt feel like a good enough answer to him. Plus, maybe he was just imagining it all. "It could have just been a different lighting. But yeah." He said, nodding and staring at his lap. Purple could feel his cheeks heating up and his stomach do flips. He was nervous that Red would tell him he didnt feel the same as he did. Which, he wouldn't really blame him.

"I guess it would make sense then," Red began, turning down Purples' street. "Because I do love you." He admitted, glancing at Purple who quickly looked at him.

"You do?" Purple asked hopefully.

"Why else would I do the things I do for you?" Red laughed, pulling into Purples' driveway. He put it in park and looked at Purple.

Purple smiled, looking back at his lap. He always just thought Red was being nice.

"So, how about a date this Friday?" Red questioned, watching Purple smile like an idiot. Purple quickly nodded his head, unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out.

"I cant wait." Purple said, closing Red's door and practically running to his house to tell Tak about this.

#human au #invader zim #purple #red #rapr #gay #lgbt

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matthewschueller · 4 years

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What to do in Kansas City | Complete Winter Travel Itinerary

Winter in Kansas City — The Complete Itinerary (What to see, Where to stay, where to eat & Drink)

Kansas City has often been described as the Paris of the Plains. Many travelers, including myself are skeptical about venturing to the Midwest during the winter because of the cold weather. There’s no way I would willingly subject myself to the polar-plunge! Luckily, this cultural center of the Midwest really lights-up during the winter months while the city prepares for the holidays. With surprising cuisine, tons to see, and whiskey that warms my heart and mind, how could I miss visiting Kansas City during this cheery time of year!? Here is the full itinerary of where to stay, what to see, and where to eat and drink in Kansas City.

Where to Stay in Kansas City

Stay at the Crossroads Hotel

What better place to stay than in the heart of the city? Crossroads is an incredibly trendy district filled to the brim with diverse restaurants, kitschy bars, and classic Midwest brick industrial style architecture. Crossroads Hotel features an elegant yet functional design complete with a rooftop bar. No matter the weather, the Crossroads XR Cafe & Bar has quickly become one of Kansas City’s hotspots for locals on the weekends. Meet you in the lobby!

What to See in Kansas City

Explore the Country Club Plaza

Whether you’re looking for new clothes and sales at Madewell or Lululemon, Warby Parker or Anthropologie, the Country Club Plaza has a huge selection of stores. The Spanish architecture is a highlight of the district and definitely worth checking out. During the winter months, the shopping center lights up and is a hotspot for tourists to take advantage of the horse-drawn carriage rides. We made our way to the Made in KC Marketplace to pick up a few gifts for family and friends!

The Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art

We could spend multiple days here just wandering from room to room admiring the art. Featuring works from Monet and Caravaggio, as well as a huge collection of modern artwork and African art.

Explore Crown Center & Union Station

The amazing thing about Crown Center and Union Station is that you can walk between the two through a system of indoor pathways over the roads below. View the Mayor’s Christmas tree in Crown Center, then wander over to see the Christmas decorations and giant Christmas tree inside Union Station. It’s all a magical sight. Crown Center even has an iceskating rink for those brave enough to take on the ice! For those a little less sure, enjoy browsing the shops, go to a movie, or explore Legoland!

Where to Eat in Kansas City

Treat yourself at Rye Plaza

A farm-to-table modern bistro serving Kansas City classics with a bit of flare. Dimly lit, the atmosphere is perfect for a nice date. The food does not disappoint! We were obsessed with their cocktails here. Matthew ordered the Barrel-Aged Old Square which included Union Horse Rye, Cognac, Dolin Vermouth Rouge, Benedictine, bitters and a flamed orange (an actual orange ON FIRE!). Michael tried the Oaxacan Autumn which included Espolón Blanco Tequila, Sombra Mezcal, with a little lemon, apple cider and apricot. Both were incredible!

Have Brunch in a Museum at Café Sebastienne

Ever wanted to eat brunch amongst tons of beautiful works of art surrounding you? Café Sebastienne is the perfect place to do so! Their menu is a seasonal and refined selection, and you can enjoy eating in their eclectic interior or modern spacious patio.

Dig into the Best Kansas City BBQ at Q39

We’ve never had better BBQ than this! We actually didn’t even know BBQ could be this good. Packed with locals and tourists alike, squeeze into Q39 for lunch or dinner and try from a wide variety of perfectly seasoned chicken, beef and pork. We recommend calling ahead to make a reservation to avoid the wait! Also, don’t leave without purchasing a bottle of their house recipe BBQ sauce!

Have a Night to Remember at Novel

Novel has some serious dishes and small plates that pack a punch of interesting flavors. We recommend trying a variety of the small dishes, then sharing a main … but I suppose that depends on how hungry you are! We shared an assortment of dishes (shown above in order) — Steamed buns with poached shrimp, tempura flakes and spicy mayo. Calamari marinated in lime and jalapeño, salad of bitter lettuces, green chickpeas, toasted hazelnuts and a creamy spicy dressing. White bolognese tagliatelle with pork, veal, sweetbreads, parmesan cheese and fresh basil. And lastly the Gnochetti with sheep’s milk cheese, spicy lamb sausage, black beans and lacinato kale.

The Perfect Sunday Brunch at Ça Va

What can we say about Ça Va? The atmosphere is absolutely lovely. The food is delicious. The coffee is the best we experienced during our trip, and the staff is so fun. Ça Va specializes in different kinds of crepes and quiche, though their menu changes weekly to feature the best local and seasonal ingredients. Ça Va is only open for brunch on Sundays, and it is well known throughout the city. Put this in your itinerary so you can call ahead and make a reservation and get in on the action!

Vegan Friendly Meals at True Food Kitchen

This is the first place we ate once we arrived in Kansas City! Located in the Country Club Plaza, this place is perfect for happy hour appetizers and drinks. Everything on the happy hour menu was $5, and it was too good to resist! Big portions, great prices, and amazing flavor! Could not be happier with this fun mid-shopping stop.

Where to Drink in Kansas City

Kansas City’s Premier Gay Bar, Missie B’s

YOU MUST GO HERE! You can’t miss going to Missie B’s when visiting Kansas City! Featuring drag performances downstairs, head to the top to go dancing. Make sure to bring cash, this bar is cash only and charges a cover on weekends at the door. If you forget your cash, no worries there’s an ATM in the back!

Mosaic Ultra Lounge

This is one of my favorite clubs I’ve been to in the US. It’s so unexpected to see this kind of club in Kansas City, but it is exactly what makes me love the city even more. Mosaic Ultra Lounge features a high-energy experience with today’s hottest music, especially House and Dance hits. Every weekend they feature premier DJs from around the world. Celebrating something special? Check out how to reserve a table and bottle service.

Mean Mule Distilling Co.

Looking for a place to chill with great cocktails? Mean Mule Distilling Co. creates its own house American Agave Spirits. This in-house distilled alcohol comes from the agave plant, and is very similar to tequila — but a bit smoother. Try any number of their custom cocktails and start the night off right.

Julep Kansas City

The amazing thing about Julep in the wintertime is that it turns into a Christmas bar. The theme, Christmas in Hawaii. It’s amazing. The cocktails are everything we needed. This is my favorite place to grab a drink with friends in Kansas City!

Miracle Pop-Up Bar (A Christmas Themed Bar!)

If you’re lucky enough to make it to the Miracle Pop-Up Bar in Kansas City’s Country Club Plaza, you will not be disappointed. It is decorated to the nines, has a line out the door, and is absolutely worth the wait! This bar is only open from Thanksgiving to Christmas Eve. You won’t find it on Google or Apple Maps, but the Country Club Plaza location is right at 4087 Jefferson St., next to Parkway Social Kitchen.

Parlor

Drink. Eat. Repeat! I’ve been to a few adult cafeterias like this in different cities around the US. They are some of my favorite places to meet friends, grab a bite to eat or a few drinks.

#LGBTQ+ travel #LGBT travel #Kansas City #USA #Itinerary #what to see #what to do #where to eat #where to drink #where to stay #Crossroads Hotel #Visit Kansas City

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ladyshivs · 5 years

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Coffee (Cake)

Lydia’s vice is sweet things. She wishes that it wasn’t.

Fallen Hero fanfic–SFW

Chargestep, TW: disordered eating

—

Lydia didn’t believe in little victories. Little victories only meant that bigger and worse losses were on the horizon.

Like the small mercy that when Ortega showed up that day in that shitty diner, her cake had been half eaten. He had ignored it. She’d been able to ignore it. Too many emotions and too many stringy lies to focus on unraveling and, frankly, just too much Ricardo sitting there. Too much Lydia, sitting there. Not dead. She hadn’t even started the engine in the very familiar train of thought. Instead she had jumped in a cab with him and proceeded to make one of the best (worst?) decisions of her new life, letting him slip just a touch into her existence.

It was the same silver lining when she had finished “helping” Lady Argent. Same. But vastly different, because in the small room it wasn’t some gum snapping, bored waitress who couldn’t even be bothered to have a brief thought of gross—no, instead it was Ortega, handing her a chocolate bar. And there was no way for Lydia to know if he had the thought. Those thoughts. She’d nibbled on it, feeling nauseous with his eyes on her, but forcing the revulsion down because there really was no way to know and she didn’t want to start a fight. At least not right then. Because then they were embracing, Lydia had started it that time, and the static of the interaction pushed whatever thought had been starting to wake up back into bed.

But there was no small mercy about it when it was Lucas hanging out with Ortega, grabbing some powdery health smoothie, or bitter black coffee or. Sometimes it was actually breakfast after boxing and those days were the worst. Because Lucas, tall and lean and well-muscled, handsome, Lucas, could just sit there and eat and have a conversation with Ortega. And Lydia was forced to, every few seconds or so, remind herself to make him take a bite. It should have been easy, but old habits died hard. It was hard and it hurt to remember that people weren’t going to stare at him while he ate. Nobody was going to shoot a glance over their shoulder if Lucas decided to get pancakes instead of a fruit salad. There wasn’t going to be any shadowy thoughts, not from everyone not by a long shot but just enough and just loud enough to make her feel mortified, judging Lucas for what he was eating. Lucas didn’t have to feel that little zip of shame if Ortega happened to look up at him when he took his next bite.

Lydia usually felt it, anyway. Endured it and blunt forced her way through, trying to find some enjoyment in the company rather than dread.

The closer Lydia and Ortega got, the fewer and further between those mercies became. Ortega liked taking her out, “treating her”, a fact which made Lydia’s skin crawl in ways both good and bad. He also liked using her presence, a civilian who didn’t have to keep up a regimen (at least not one that he knew about), as an excuse to indulge in the sorts of things he really shouldn’t.

There were times when it felt like he knew what he was doing. Like when they went for coffee not long before Lydia’s first appointment with Dr. Finch.

Without really meaning to Lydia had been getting edgy, slightly more flighty as the date approached. Screening Ortega’s calls and returning them only when she could figure would be most inconvenient. Trying to only leave messages and never actually having to talk with him. Ortega picked up on it, because of course he did, and urged

“Come get coffee with me. Just a quick cup and I’ll be out of your hair,”

“You’re never out of my hair,” because it was the truth.

“I just want to check in,” and Lydia didn’t fight it. Not hard, anyway. Went to get coffee because it was often so much easier to just play along with him than not. If she said no, he would’ve just asked questions. Pushed harder.

He got coffee and she ordered water, pointedly turning to look out the window at traffic to avoid the light something in his gaze. She felt those eyes stay on her as he added on an order of coffee cake and turned an award winning smile to the waitress. The girl couldn’t have been more than twenty, a slight thing with bright eyes and a broad, pretty face and her quiet delight was a punch to Lydia’s throat, mostly because hot on its heels came the ‘what’s he doing with a woman like that?’.

Being intangible would have been a pretty useful talent, Lydia mused, still not making eye contact with Ortega—she could have used it to sink through the shitty upholstery and suffocate herself in the booth.

“I know you’re nervous about it,” well. Out in the open then. Lydia let out a sound more like a bark than a laugh. It only made Ortega frown softly. “It’s okay to be, you know,”

“Sure,” Lydia sighed, rubbing her hands over her legs to try and keep them from standing her up and walking out the door. Then brought them on to the table. Folding them over each other, fingers playing with themselves. Did she look suitably nervous? Did she look nervous for the right reasons? “Just…just not sure what I’m getting myself into,” the smile was forced. Badly enough that Ortega scooted forward in his seat, reaching across the table to rest his hand on her forearm.

“Hopefully something that will help,” the place where his hand rested felt sunburnt and it took everything in Lydia’s power not to brush him immediately away. It was meant to be a comfort; Lydia wished it could be. Wished that when his thumb stroked at her through the thin cloth barrier it could make her feel anything other than shivery and repulsive.

It wasn’t entirely her own thought, she realized with a tiny spike of anger. The waitress, watching them as she drew back in with their order. Watching him touch and hearing him speak gently and finding it just a little bit gross that it was Lydia, of all people, receiving the attention.

Lydia knew her body had changed since her debut as Entropy, but Lydia also knew that she had been designed to be not only forgettable, but to be just slightly unattractive. Undesirable. Not remarkably ugly, but.

So.

Her face wasn’t anything remarkable. Her eyes were programmed to be just a little dull. And. Well. How many studies were there that showed how much people disliked overweight women? Pitied them. Found them gross. Tried to forget that they were there? Enough for the people writing her genetic coding to toss it on in—no amount of exercise or protein shakes or starvation could change that.

“Anything else I can get for you?” Not ‘you two’. Only directed at Ortega but not deliberately malicious. Lydia could feel the way the girl’s thoughts jumped when Ortega smiled at her again and told her that they were good for the moment.

At least there was the small mercy that Ortega waited until the waitress had left before scooching the plate more towards the center of the table. Lydia regarded it with a caution usually reserved for grenades missing their pins. Waited while Ortega took a bite to chase his coffee. She sipped at her water and hoped the cool feeling might help ground her. Instead she felt it sliding icy down her throat and settle hard in the pit of her stomach.

“I’m proud of you for agreeing to go,” Lydia must’ve let the surprise show on her face. It was Ortega’s turn to sheepishly look away, playing with a crumb of cake with the tine of his fork.

“Don’t count your chickens. I haven’t made it there, yet,” she grumbled.

“Sure,” and Lydia could tell even without being able to see his thoughts that he was deliberately echoing her. He made a vague gesture of surrender. There was a dangerous gleam in the way his eyes smiled. Lydia tried to ignore the way it made her hair stand on end. “It’s good,” Lydia blinked at him. “The cake,” he raised another piece on his fork as if displaying it, “try some,”

“Not hungry,” the words threw elbows in their desperation to get out of her mouth. Ortega gave her a look. Close to a pout.

“One bite,” and. Yes. There was an edge to it. ‘Quiet cup of coffee’ her fat ass, this was a challenge. Goddammit. It wouldn’t be worth the argument. It wasn’t an argument she could win, not right then, and it would only get worse because that particular argument was going to be one Ortega wouldn’t let die easily. “I thought coffee cake was one of your favorites,” he poked, clearly trying to test her reaction.

Dammit, she wished she could get a read on exactly what he was thinking.

“Sure.” The word was laced with a great deal more venom than Lydia meant it to. It made Ortega’s eyes harden slightly. Lydia winced, a bit dramatically to try and drive it home. “Sorry. Sorry, I guess thinking about having to finally talk with someone makes me more nervous than I thought,”

The lie stuck its landing. There was a flash of something related to guilt, then,— “It is pretty good, you know,” but his tone was more reproachful. It was obvious he’d only ordered it with her in mind, and probably ordered it without meaning for it to start something. Probably.

It was a small bite.

But his eyes were on her, expectant. Wanting a review.

Watching her chew. Lydia had to look down at the plate to escape the gaze otherwise she was sure she would choke. It was good; a little too sweet to be eaten with just water but it would have balanced out a bitter cup of coffee nicely.

“Good?” he prompted.

“Fine,” she shrugged and forced herself to lay the fork down instead of throwing it.

“You’re such a shitty liar,” but there was a sly grin on his face.

“Excuse you?”

“You were making The Face,”

“The hell are you talking about? What face?”

“You know, the face?” Ortega paused and leaned back, smug look only poisoning the teasing words more. “You get this little…I don’t know, face, when you eat something you really like. You actually look close to happy,”

Lydia felt bile rush up her throat. Fuck, she was going to be sick.

“Whatever. You’ve got crumbs in your mustache, grandpa,” she said, instead of jumping up from the table to vomit in the bathroom. She made a face? Worse, far worse yet, god fucking dammit so much worse, he’d watched her eat often enough to know she made a face.

Somewhere eighteen million miles away, just across the speckled tabletop, Ortega was brushing at his mustache and cursing softly in Spanish about not being old. He was saying something else, but Lydia didn’t quite catch it. She was busy trying not to run out. Making sure she didn’t start crying. To not draw any more attention to herself.

God. How many times? How often had she let her guard down for him to be able to pick up that she made a fucking face?

“Lydia? You still with me?”

The snap back to reality hit harder than usual. Fuck, she really was going to be sick, wasn’t she? She was holding her own hands tightly enough to turn the knuckles bright white—she only noticed because Ortega��s hands, warm and sending a low level crackle over her skin, folded over them. Stopping them from. Christ, she had been shaking.

“Sorry,” it was all she could think to say and it felt every bit as slimy as she did. “I’m alright,” she continued, hoping Ortega would take his hands back. Her stomach rolled. “Thinking about tomorrow, that’s all,”

That seemed to do a good enough job. Concern was a bad look for Ortega, and he still wore it plastered over his face, but it was softening. His hands stayed. Moved. But stayed. Curled around to properly hold hers on the tabletop. The coffee cake served as the halfway point between them.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he offered. “And if it’s not, if it turns out to be bullshit and you hate it, I’ll still be here,” a kind sentiment, if it were true. There was no way for Lydia to really know. His thumbs rubbed small circles over her knuckles and it was.

A little too intimate, suddenly.

“Hey. Let me get this one, yeah?” Lydia reclaimed her hands, doing her best to ignore the lingering buzz in her joints. Ortega blinked back at her, the sudden change obviously throwing him a bit. No need to be psychic to see him searching for the words.

“…All you had was water.”

And that fucking bite of cake, she doesn’t say.

“So I don’t feel like I owe you so much?” is what made it out of her mouth and every line in Ortega’s body seemed to soften at once.

“Oh, mierda, Lydia is that was this is about? Me footing the bill for your–,”

“It’s not. Really,” and despite herself, Lydia found herself placing her hand back on Ortega’s. “It’s not,” It wasn’t. She just wanted any excuse she could find to get out of there as quickly as possible without making a scene. “Just. I want to. Let me get this?”

“I won’t fight you for it,” he agreed and the smile was close to genuine. Maybe it actually was. Then, “Besides, it’ll give me an excuse to take you somewhere nicer in the future,”

And even though she knew it wasn’t, the wink he sent at her felt like a threat.

#Fallen Hero: Rebirth #fallen hero fanfiction #fallen hero: retribution #fallen hero spoilers #Ricardo Ortega #Lydia Becerra #disordered eating #chargestep

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letowritings · 6 years

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It’s The Perfect Denial

 Chapter 18

 I eventually got up and stumbled to the kitchen to make myself some coffee. My head was pounding and without yet looking in the mirror, I knew my eyes were already swollen from crying most of the night. I still couldn’t believe that they had done this to me.

They had broken my heart in ways I never thought possible, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know it was coming, I just wasn’t prepared for it. It’s kind of like handing someone a loaded gun and expecting not to be shot. You underrate the power you give them and are left trying to figure out how to go on with life once the relationship has ended.

 I carried the mug of hot coffee back to my makeshift bed on the couch and plopped down, knocking my uncharged phone to the floor. Jared’s name illuminated the screen with so many missed calls and texts. I couldn’t help but wonder how he played into the whole fucked up situation. Had he also been seeing her behind my back? Scrolling through the messages I was shocked that not a single one was from Shannon. My heart ached so badly. The pain radiated from my chest and spread all the way down to my fingertips and toes. It was as if my heart had been ripped open and smashed before being poorly stapled or glued back together. Regrettably for me, this was far worse than physical pain. Grief is something that no medication can heal and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

I dumped most of the coffee, still not having much of an appetite and wandered over to my computer. I went over my schedule for the next few weeks. Luckily, I had a flight out in two days and would be spending a little over a week in Seattle, far away from LA. Until then, I had to keep busy so I didn’t have time to think.

 I did some light cleaning, but no matter what I attempted, something would remind me of either one or both of them and stop me in my tracks. Jared’s shirt that I had worn home one day was lying on the floor next to my laundry basket. Raising the fabric to my face, I inhaled deeply. His scent was still there and I sank to the floor, feeling completely broken.

 I knew I had to get out of my apartment or I was going to go crazy. I took a shower and got myself ready and drove to the grocery. I just needed to pick up a few things and thought that surrounding myself with strangers had to be easier than sitting home crying, but I was wrong.

 Little things that ordinarily wouldn’t have fazed me, seemed to take over my thoughts. Whether it was the scent of a familiar cologne as a stranger passed too close, or a Thirty Seconds To Mars shirt on a fan, everything bothered me. I could feel the jealousy burning my face as my heart clenched, watching a happy couple all hugged up, pushing a shopping cart. It’s not like I’d ever have that anyway, not from either of them. No, we weren’t allowed to show any affection in public. Again, the pain intensified as I came across a bottle of my favorite Pink champagne. Shannon never forgot how much I loved the stuff and always made sure to have it on hand when we were together.

I stood there, frozen, thinking back to the trip to Wyoming. Things seemed so normal then. Was he really with ‘her’ then too? If he was, he never acted any differently. I also thought of the trip to Malibu with Jared. Jared….. I dialed his number and listened as he answered. “Carrie! Jesus, are you alright? Where are you?”

“I….” I cleared my throat, on the verge of tears again. “I’m leaving the grocery and on my way home. Can you meet me there in about ten minutes, I need to talk to you?”

“I’m on my way.”

I disconnected and walked to the checkout. Peanut butter and jelly wasn’t something that I ate regularly, but I had no desire to cook anything at all. Bananas, avocados, almond milk, and salad completed my trip to the store.

I drove home and noticed Jared’s truck immediately. He rushed toward me as soon as he saw me.

“God, I’m so sorry about what happened last night. I had no idea Shannon was seeing her again.” He grabbed the bags from my hands and I quickly fumbled with the keys, inserting the one to my apartment into the lock. I shoved the door open and walked inside.

“You alright?” He lay the bags down on the table and pulled me into his arms.

 I clung to him, gripping the fabric of his shirt and letting myself sink against his lean body.

“No, I’m not.” After a few seconds, I backed away. “It’s obvious he’s known her longer than last night. I want answers Jared. I can’t talk to him, because he’s a liar… so I expect you to be honest with me.”

He stared at me, biting on his bottom lip. Nodding, he pulled a chair out, gesturing for me to sit. When I did, he sat next to me, but stared straight ahead. “All bullshit aside, I want you to know that I do love you.” I had a feeling that what he was going to tell me was going to hurt, and I found myself digging my fingernails into my palms, bracing for the worst. “You know that you’re not the first woman that Shannon and I have shared. There have been a few actually. Dominique was the first. She was my girlfriend, and after Shannon endlessly flirted with her, I found out she fucked him, only, it was behind my back.”

It seemed that deep down it still bothered him. He never looked at me, just stared down at the table. “Rather than fight with him over it and break it off with her, I sucked it up and we made an agreement that she would be with both of us, but jealousy got the best of me and I ended it. The rules were that if one of us wanted out, none of us would see each other anymore, but I guess they continued behind my back for a while. There was another woman, this time it was someone that he had chosen and it too, didn’t work out. You’re the first one that we actually talked about from the beginning. That day you and I reconnected on that flight, he brought it up. I won’t lie, I did encourage it, realizing that you’d probably not be able to resist him, but you gave in to him much faster than I thought you would. After that you seemed pleased with both of us and I didn’t want to ruin it. Fast forward to the day my mother walked in on us. Shannon seemed bitter with the whole situation after that, but I swear to you I knew nothing of him seeing Dominique again. He called to let me know what happened.” Jared stared across the room and laughed sarcastically. “He didn’t really have much of a choice at that point.” He turned and focused on me. “I do love you and I’m genuinely sorry about everything.”

“It’s like a game for you two. Is that what you guys like, to play with peoples emotions, manipulate them? Neither of you care about anyone but yourselves. What about my feelings?” I stood up and began pacing, again becoming overwhelmed with grief. The tears fell down my cheeks and I screamed in his face as he gripped my arms. “I can’t just turn my emotions on and off like the two of you! I’m hurting! I’m grieving because of your fucking game!”

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t hear any complaints from you when he was fucking you. You wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.”

What he said was true, the truth definitely hurt, but the ache in my heart made everything inside me turn cold. I flinched, like he’d crossed some invisible line in the sand and all I wanted to do was strike out, say something aimed to annihilate his heart, make him hurt like I was hurting. “Well, I’m leaving the day after tomorrow for a job and actually, the jokes on you because I never really loved you. I never want to see you again. Get out of my apartment!”

#jared/shannon leto fanfiction #shannon leto fanfiction #jared leto fanfiction #It’s The Perfect Denial #chapter 18 #thirty seconds to mars fanfiction #thirty seconds to mars fics

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petitelepus · 6 years

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Lithuanian Food Trip!

So, I was just in Lithuania, meeting my friend Eve and the trip didn’t disappoint me! Down below are some pictures which I took during my trip and thanks to these photos Eve insisted to call me a hipster, as I reminded her from Liam from Monster Prom! I don’t deny or say anything to her claiming. Enjoy!

The plane took off at 11.50 am from Helsinki Vantaa airport, but since the big shot mister President Donald Trump was then visiting Finland to discuss with Putin, I was afraid that if I went there with later buss I would miss my plane. So I went to airport as early as 06.00 am and I had to wait there forever until my plane could take off...! I was so tired, I hadn’t slept at all night before thanks to horrible heat and I was nodding off and feeling nauseous in heat. So I took the first solution that came to my mind and tried coffee for the first time in my life in a form of Vanilla Latte. Where the fuck was that vanilla, all I could taste was coffee and foam!

So I made it to the plane and we took off. Me being tired as fuck and not so modest took a comfy position and listened music for about an hour while we were on air. Rest of the flight I almost slept. Eve was so kind and waited me at the airport when my plane landed and she took me to my hotel!

I was so hungry, I needed food and what’s a better way to start your food trip in Lithuania than ordering traditional herb and butter filled chicken dish with french fries! OMG, it was so delicious...!

For breakfast I had modest toast, three slices of delicious watermelon, cucumber, some sausage and cup of black tea. I wonder where they hid the milk?

Eve took me to a local shopping mall where we shopped for some clothing and then we went to have ice cream in Chili Pizza called restaurant. I took cream flavoured ice cream in hot chocolate with nuts and I wasn’t disappointed, it was SO GOOD...! Dammit, I wanted more...! Of course, me being immature adult like I am I had to play with my food and lick it like a cat.

Then I had this alcohol drink called Devil’s Eye. It was by far tastiest drink I have ever had in my life and most beautiful one also.

That night I had some delicious roasted duck with potato pyre, with caramelised pears and cranberry sauce. I had never had duck before, the texture wasn’t anything like chicken’s texture, it was like eating a hybrid between animals!

Next day Eve took me out to visit Vilnius’ older town, where there was this amazing tower, gardens and rain. Well, it was a small thunder storm, but I loved it. The heat would have killed me otherwise!

The church was beautiful! I can really appreciate the details put into sculpting as I am a fan. On our way back towards hotel we came across something I had never seen before. KFC. Kentucky Fucking Chicken. I could feel myself drooling, I’ve heard it’s chicken’s friend’s go to place if you wanted some good fried chicken...! But I was too modest and not so hungry yet so we kept walking despite Eve trying to encourage me to get chicken. No Eve, the night draws near and I can always wait until we get KFC in Finland. When will that day come, I wonder...?

Next day I met Eve’s friend Gabby. She was super nice and she liked same stuff as we did! We three went together to this Lithuanian sightsee tower and the view was amazing! Service was a little lacking though.

I got myself a beautiful and delicious Red Sunset while we were waiting for Eve’s and Gabby’s orders. And Pepsi, but I gave it to Eve. She needed sugar, after all she had a meeting after our little tower adventure.

DO NOT ORDER THIS DRINK. This Gin Tonic might look pretty and cooling, but it’s bitter and sour as Hell! Yack! Eve and Gabby thought it was fine, but I didn’t like it... Didn’t stop me from drinking it though.

Later that day after 5 hour naps I went to have some dinner. Roasted chicken breast with smashed potatoes, mushrooms and fresh salad. Delicious, it was my first time eating mushrooms.

Next day we went to Eve’s home! Gabby was there also! We played Cards Against Humanity, Monster Prom and Gabby and me managed to get Liam’s Yaoi ending! We were both so happy! We also played regular card games and then we watched Oshiete Gal-chan anime! They liked it, though Eve told me the series was mainly about boobs so no wonder I liked it. I can’t say she was wrong, boobs were big part of each episode. Then we ordered pizza and Eve’s mother got them to us. I got chicken pizza, but look at all those mushrooms! Then Eve proceeded to act as a translator between me and her mother who didn’t speak English as she wanted to ask me questions about Finland and myself. I made a good impression on her.

Next day Eve’s mother took me and Eve to this restaurant where she wanted me to try this seed juice. I won’t lie, it tasted a little bit like pickle juice.

Next Eve’s mother ordered me this traditional Lithuanian dish where you took meat, surrounded it with mashed potatoes and cook it. I got so excited at the sight of food that I forgot to take a picture before eating. I ate the whole thing.

And I even got a nice Cosmopolitan!

For dessert Eve’s mother got herself ice cream and fresh fruits. She was so kind to let me take a picture of her dish.

Eve got herself this dish with bread and sweet whipped cream. The bread was salty, so weird, yet delicious when she gave me a taste.

Eve’s mother ordered me this traditional cake filled with raisins and poppy seeds. It was good, I won’t lie. After dinner we all got into car and headed towards the castle!

It was so beautiful and calm, people were chilling and everything, there were a lot of ducks and even a swan family! We took pictures with me and Eve in them, but I ain’t putting them here! I’m camera shy and so is Eve. I was happy, but a little sad also since it was my last night in Lithuania.

This is the darn plane that was destined to bring me back to expensive Finland. Eve and I hugged as we said good bye, but I didn’t want to let go...! But I had to. That’s my finger on the bottom left. I didn’t notice it until I was editing pictures.

Good bye Eve, Tomas and Gabby! I’ll miss you!

What the heck? Well, maybe it’s right, maybe...!

Back in Finland and it’s hot as in Devil’s pot. I stopped at the Burger King to get my little brother hamburger since he was on couple days vacation from army. I know army is hard and everything, but he could have at least cleaned cats’ litter boxes instead of leaving them to me!

And there you have it people! My trip to Lithuania!

#me #chilling #lithuania #vilnius #vilnus #vilna #finland #vacation

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woozletania · 6 years

Text

There’s a raccoon in my tower, part 5

Over a picnic meal Tony gets a look at what Rocket’s been building in his lab.

Tony had never seen someone so small eat so much in such a short time. Rocket ate with his little clawed hands and fangs, sniffing at then tearing into one dish after another. Most of a roast chicken, a bowl of potato salad, a dish of cherries and a stick of garlic bread disappeared into the little raccoon before he drank half a bottle of water, burped loudly, then went right back to eating.

Occasionally he nosed at something and rather than ripping into it he slid the dish to Nebula. That ended up being the applesauce, a jar of grape jam and a Tupperware dish of tuna salad. Nebula ate sparingly of each, taking no more food than a child and much less than the hungry raccoon. It wasn't hard to guess why. There was so little flesh left among her cybernetics that there couldn't be room for much of a digestive system or need for one.

Thor ate more than Rocket but weighed at least five times as much. He also grinned and belched in reply whenever Rocket did, making sure to outdo his little friend in volume. Tony and Pepper together ate less than the Thunder god. That gave Tony time to peer around the room. Rocket was too busy eating to do more than shoot him the occasional suspicious glance.

In the background of it all was the music. Always the music. No one commented on it but throughout the meal the Zune on the workbench fed sound to hidden speakers. Tony suspected it was Quill's, for the age of the songs smacked of the rogue's retro mindset. Footloose was right in line with Fleetwood Mac, Norman Greenbaum, David Bowie, the Jackson Five, ELO, Cat Stevens and more. It wasn't loud but it was always there.

Almost everything in sight had the handmade look he'd come to associate with Rocket. How one little raccoon could build so much in just a few months escaped him. There was some automation, like the assembly line stamping out parts. Maybe some of the equipment was similarly machine made.

Racks of tools, half-built weapons, stacks of parts all had a look of clutter that he knew was an illusion. A master craftsman leaves each item just where he wants it to be. He imagined the response if someone tidied up. "Don't touch my stuff." The mantra of the technician.

There was something he assumed was a recycling system the little raccoon presumably made so he wouldn't need to connect to the building's water and sewer lines. Much more interesting was the hulking shape looming in the shadows nearby. Thor was interested in it too but wouldn't stop eating to look it over. Tony was not so shy but when he went to stand Thor put his hand on his knee.

"Afterwards," the thunder god murmured. They went back to eating and to pretending not to notice when Nebula reached out to pet Rocket in between bites. Tony never imagined the bitter cyborg and angry raccoon being friends until he saw how they treated each other. Each cared about the other and showed by action what they'd never admit out loud.

Pepper couldn't resist reaching out to pet him as well but held back and when Rocket shot her a glare and bared his fangs. It seemed not everyone got to pet the raccoon.

When Rocket had eaten most of the contents of Thor's picnic basket the raccoon belched again and sat back, his belly noticeably rounder than before. He must have put away a quarter his body weight in one sitting. It didn't escape anyone that only a famished man - or raccoon - ate like that.

"The deal was that you were to eat, Rocket," was the first thing out of Thor's mouth when they were all done feasting. "You don't eat like a well fed person."

"I do eat," the raccoon snapped. "Look!" He pointed at a pile of empty foam food containers in the corner. "They put food in when I send stuff out, I eat it."

Thor looked the raccoon over, unconvinced. "You do look a little better. But when was the last time you sent something out?"

"I dunno," Rocket said. "Haven't had as much stuff lately. Nothing works on Thanos. I sent out everything I know how ta make and he's still alive." He slouched where he sat. "Nothing works on that guy."

Thor opened his mouth but Tony stuck his foot in. "How do you know how to make all this, Rocket?"

Rocket laughed harshly. "The usual way someone like me learns. Head stuffed full of Uplift processors and a helmet clamped on my head feeding in what they want me ta know. They wanted a soldier who could build and repair his own gear. So they built one. Or a prototype of one anyway. Other stuff I picked up after I escaped."

Tony winced. It was as bad as he's expected. "Well, if you want a job, I'm hiring. Or if you'd just meet with me and a few others to do an info exchange."

"Got everything I need right here," Rocket said. "I just gotta figure out something Thanos isn't immune to. I collapsed a planet and took chunks out a two more and he's still alive. Nothing works on the blue bastard."

Thor steered the conversation back on track. "Pepper, do you know how often Rocket has sent things out recently?"

"About every two or three days," she said. "I should have realized that was a problem. I'm sorry Thor, we've been so busy."

"New rule, Rocket," Thor said firmly. "You're going to let them send food in every day. You're not going to get lost in your work and starve again if I have anything to say about it."

"Fine," Rocket said after a jaw-cracking yawn. "Whatever. You gonna go so I can get back ta work?"

"In a minute," Tony interjected. "What's with the power armor?"

They turned to look at the Hulkbuster-sized figure in the shadows. As usual the lighting was dim to favor the nocturnal raccoon but it could be nothing but a power suit, and the Rocket-sized compartment in the front left no doubt who the pilot would be.

"Eh," Rocket shrugged. "If I can't kill him with a bomb maybe I can at least get a few punches in. From that footage Potts sent me he likes a good fight." He yawned again, visibly struggling to stay awake after the heavy meal and who knows how much missed sleep. "He coulda killed you ten different ways with the Stones but he went hand ta hand. Likes to fight." He supported his muzzle on his hands as he stared at the hovering screens with drooping eyelids "I'll get him..."

Tony had been in his place. Sometimes the need to invent kept him up for days. Rocket was running on determination and rage but he didn't have Jarvis or Friday to make sure he ate or slept. Thor was worried Rocket would wither away at his workbench and he was right to do so. Even now, after what Tony knew were several food-laden visits, Rocket was skinnier than he probably should be.

Rocket was so exhausted he only muttered a protest when Thor picked him up and slid him into the padded pet bed. The thunder god gestured with his chin and they filed out lest they wake the little mechanic from his much needed rest. Tony lingered by the power armor but barely had time for a look before Thor chased him out. Each waited until they were past the entry corridor - surely loaded with cameras and microphones - to speak. When the ever-present music was finally cut off by the closing doors Pepper spoke up.

"He's like a little kid," Pepper said sadly. "A hurt little kid trying not to think about what he lost."

"A very dangerous, very angry little kid," Tony agreed.

“There's nothing more dangerous than a man who has nothing left to lose,” Thor said somberly.

Pepper and Thor shared a brief exchange but he missed it. Something was nagging at him. Something about the power armor.

"...only family he ever had," Nebula was saying as he awoke from his thoughts. "And Groot was his son in all but name."

"Nebula," he said, and the blue cyborg fixed him with a look. "Did you see the purple conduits built into that power suit?"

She shrugged. "Yes. Jump drive. Personal teleporters aren't unheard-of but they are rare. Maybe he thinks it'll surprise my father. Why?"

"I don't know," Tony said. "Something about it bugs me. Did you get any scans, Friday?"

"No sir," said the voice from the ceiling. "A damping field was in place, probably for your benefit. I did get some video and snapshots through your chest unit, though."

"All right," Tony said. "Mock up what you can in Lab Two. I'll be by in a bit."

"Is there a problem, Stark?"

"I don't know yet, Thor. Maybe."

Tony was being cautious. In his heart he knew something was very wrong. He just didn't know what it was yet.

#Rocket Raccoon #tony stark #Thor Odinson #pepper Potts #nebula

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boreothegoldfinch · 3 years

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chapter 10 paragraph v

Almost three hours later I was still sitting in a red vinyl booth in the Polack bar, flashing Christmas lights, annoying mix of punk rock and Christmas polka music honking away on the jukebox, fed up from waiting and wondering if he was going to show or not, if maybe I should just go home. I didn’t even have his information—it had all happened so fast. In the past I’d Googled Boris for the hell of it—never a whisper—but then I’d never envisioned Boris as having any kind of a life that might be traceable online. He might have been anywhere, doing anything: mopping a hospital floor, carrying a gun in some foreign jungle, picking up cigarette butts off the street. It was getting toward the end of Happy Hour, a few students and artist types trickling in among the pot-bellied old Polish guys and grizzled, fifty-ish punks. I’d just finished my third vodka; they poured them big, it was foolish to order another one; I knew I should get something to eat but I wasn’t hungry and my mood was turning bleaker and darker by the moment. To think that he’d blown me off after so many years was incredibly depressing. If I had to be philosophical, at least I’d been diverted from my dope mission: hadn’t OD’d, wasn’t vomiting in some garbage can, hadn’t been ripped off or run in for trying to buy from an undercover cop— “Potter.” There he was, sliding in across from me, slinging the hair from his face in a gesture that brought the past ringing back. “I was just about to leave.” “Sorry.” Same dirty, charming smile. “Had something to do. Didn’t Myriam explain?” “No she didn’t.” “Well. Is not like I work in accounting office. Look,” he said, leaning forward, palms on the table, “don’t be mad! Was not expecting to run into you! I came as quick as I could! Ran, practically!” He reached across with cupped hand and slapped me gently on the cheek. “My God! Such a long time it is! Glad to see you! You’re not glad to see me too?” He’d grown up to be good-looking. Even at his gawkiest and most pinched he’d always had a likable shrewdness about him, lively eyes and a quick intelligence, but he’d lost that half-starved rawness and everything else had come together the right way. His skin was weather-beaten but his clothes fell well, his features were sharp and nervy, cavalry hero by way of concert pianist; and his tiny gray snaggleteeth—I saw—had been replaced by a standard-issue row of all-American whites. He saw me looking, flicked a showy incisor with his thumbnail. “New snaps.” “I noticed.” “Dentist in Sweden did it,” said Boris, signalling for a waiter. “Cost a fucking fortune. My wife kept after me—Borya, your mouth, disgraceful! I said no way am I doing this, but was the best money I ever spent.” “When’d you get married?” “Eh?” “You could have brought her if you wanted.” He looked startled. “What, you mean Myriam? No, no—” reaching into the pocket of his suit jacket, punching around on his telephone, “Myriam’s not my wife! This—” he handed me the phone—“this is my wife. What are you drinking?” he said, before turning to address the waiter in Polish. The photo on the iPhone was of a snow-topped chalet and, out in front, a beautiful blonde on skis. At her side, also on skis, were a pair of bundled-up little blond kids of indeterminate sex. It didn’t look so much like a snapshot as an ad for some healthful Swiss product like yogurt or Bircher muesli.

I looked up at him stunned. He glanced away, with a Russianate gesture of old: yeah, well, it is what it is. “Your wife? Seriously?” “Yah,” he said, with a lifted eyebrow. “My kids, too. Twins.” “Fuck.” “Yes,” he said regretfully. “Born when I was very young—too young. It wasn’t a good time—she wanted to keep them—‘Borya, how could you’— what could I say? To be truthful I don’t know them so well. Actually the little one—he is not in the picture—the little one I have not met at all. I think he is only, what? Six weeks old?” “What?” Again I looked at the picture, struggling to reconcile this wholesome Nordic family with Boris. “Are you divorced?” “No no no—” the vodka had arrived, icy carafe and two tiny glasses, he was pouring a shot for each of us—“Astrid and the children are mostly in Stockholm. Sometimes she comes to Aspen to the winter, to ski—she was ski champion, qualified for the Olympics when she was nineteen—” “Oh yeah?” I said, doing my best not to sound incredulous at this. The kids, as was fairly evident upon closer viewing, looked far too blond and bonny to be even vaguely related to Boris. “Yes yes,” said Boris, very earnestly, with a vigorous nod of the head. “She always has to be where there is skiing and—you know me, I hate the fucking snow, ha! Her father very very right-wing—a Nazi basically. I think —no wonder Astrid has depression problems with father like him! What a hateful old shit! But they are very unhappy and miserable people, all of them, these Swedes. One minute laughing and drinking and the next—darkness, not a word. Dziękuję,” he said to the waiter, who had reappeared with a tray of small plates: black bread, potato salad, two kinds of herring, cucumbers in sour cream, stuffed cabbage, and some pickled eggs. “I didn’t know they served food here.” “They don’t,” said Boris, buttering a slice of black bread and sprinkling it with salt. “But am starving. Asked them to bring something from next door.” He clinked his shot glass with mine. “Sto lat!” he said—his old toast. “Sto lat.” The vodka was aromatic and flavored with some bitter herb I couldn’t identify. “So,” I said, helping myself to some food. “Myriam?” “Eh?” I held out open palms in our childhood gesture: please explain. “Ah, Myriam! She works for me! Right-hand man, suppose you’d say. Although, I’ll tell you, she’s better than any man you’ll find. What a woman, my God. Not many like her, I’ll tell you. Worth her weight in gold. Here here,” he said, refilling my glass and sliding it back to me. “Za vstrechu!” lifting his own to me. “To our meeting!” “Isn’t it my turn to toast?” “Yes, it is—” clinking my glass—“but I am hungry and you are waiting too long.” “To our meeting, then.” “To our meeting! And to fortune! For bringing us together again!” As soon as we’d drunk, Boris fell immediately on the food. “And what exactly is it that you do?” I asked him. “This, that.” He still ate with the innocent, gobbling hunger of a child. “Many things. Getting by, you know?” “And where do you live? Stockholm?” I said, when he didn’t answer. He waved an expansive hand. “All over.” “Like—?” “Oh, you know. Europe, Asia, North and South America…” “That covers a lot of territory.” “Well,” he said, mouth full of herring, wiping a glob of sour cream off his chin, “am also small business owner, if you understand me rightly.” “Sorry?” He washed down the herring with a big slug of beer. “You know how it is. My official business so called is housecleaning agency. Workers from Poland, mostly. Nice pun in title of business, too. ‘Polish Cleaning Service.’ Get it?” He bit into a pickled egg. “What’s our motto, can you guess? ‘We clean you out,’ ha!”

I chose to let that one lie. “So you’ve been in the States this whole time?” “Oh no!” He had poured us each a new shot of vodka, was lifting his glass to me. “Travel a lot. I am here maybe six, eight weeks of the year. And the rest of the time—” “Russia?” I said, downing my shot, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Not so much. Northern Europe. Sweden, Belgium. Germany sometimes.” “I thought you went back.” “Eh?” “Because—well. I never heard from you.” “Ah.” Boris rubbed his nose sheepishly. “It was a messed up time. Remember your house—that last night?” “Of course.” “Well. I’d never seen so much drugs in my life. Like half an ounce of coka and didn’t sell one stitch of it, not even one quarter gram. Gave a lot away, sure—was very popular at school, ha! Everyone loved me! But most of it— right up my nose. Then—the baggies we found—tablets of all assortments— remember? Those little greens? Some very serious cancer-patient-end-of-life pills—your dad must have been crazy addicted if he was taking that stuff.” “Yeah, I wound up with some of those too.” “Well then, you know! They don’t even make those good green oxys any more! Now they have the junkie-defeat so you can’t shoot them or snort! But your dad? Like—to go from drinking to that? Better a drunk in the street, any old day. First one I did—passed out before I hit my second line, if Kotku hadn’t been there—” he drew a finger across his throat—“pfft.” “Yep,” I said, remembering my own stupid bliss, keeling face-down on my desk upstairs at Hobie’s. “Anyway—” Boris downed his vodka in a gulp and poured us both another—“Xandra was selling it. Not that. That was your dad’s. For his own personal. But the other, she was dealing from where she worked. That couple Stewart and Lisa? Those like super straight real-estate looking people? They were bankrolling her.” I put down my fork. “How do you know that?” “Because she told me! And I guess they got ugly when she came up short, too. Like Mr. Lawyer Face and Miss Daisy Tote Bag all nice and kind at your house… petting her on the head… ‘what can we do’… ‘Poor Xandra…’ ‘we’re so sorry for you’… then their drugs are gone—phew. Different story! I felt really bad when she told me, for what we’d done! Big trouble for her! But, by then—” flicking his nose—“was all up here. Kaput.” “Wait—Xandra told you this?” “Yes. After you left. When I was living over there with her.” “You need to back up a little bit.” Boris sighed. “Well, okay. Is long story. But we have not seen each other in long while, right?” “You lived with Xandra?” “You know—in and out. Four-five months maybe. Before she moved back to Reno. I lost touch with her after that. My dad had gone back to Australia, see, and also Kotku and I were on the rocks—”

“That must have been really weird.” “Well—sort of,” he said restlessly. “See—” leaning back, signalling to the waiter again—“I was in pretty bad shape. I’d been up for days. You know how it is when you crash hard off cocaine—terrible. I was alone and really frightened. You know that sickness in your soul—fast breaths, lots of fear, like Death will reach a hand out and take you? Thin—dirty—scared shivering. Like a little half-dead cat! And Christmas too—everyone away! Called a bunch of people, no one picking up—went by this guy Lee’s where I stayed in the pool house sometime but he was gone, door locked. Walking and walking—staggering almost. Cold and frightened! Nobody home! So I went by to Xandra’s. Kotku was not talking to me by then.” “Man, you had some kind of serious balls. I wouldn’t have gone back there for a million dollars.” “I know, it took some onions, but was so lonely and ill. Mouth all gittering. Like—where you want to lie still and to look at a clock and count your heartbeats? except no place to lie still? and you don’t have a clock? Almost in tears! Didn’t know what to do! Didn’t even know was she still there. But lights were on—only lights on the street—came around by the glass door and there she was, in her same Dolphins shirt, in the kitchen making margaritas.” “What’d she do?” “Ha! Wouldn’t let me in, at first! Stood in the door and yelled a long while —cursed me, called me every name! But then I started crying. And when I asked could I stay with her?”—he shrugged—“she said yes.” “What?” I said, reaching for the shot he’d poured me. “You mean like stay stay—?” “I was scared! She let me sleep in her room! With TV turned to Christmas movies!” “Hmn.” I could see he wanted me to press for details, only from his gleeful expression I was not so sure I believed him about the sleeping-in-herroom business, either. “Well, glad that worked out for you, I guess. She say anything about me?” “Well, yes a little.” He chortled. “A lot actually! Because, I mean, don’t be mad, but I blamed some things on you.” “Glad I could help.” “Yes, of course!” He clinked my glass jubilantly. “Many thanks! You’d do the same, I wouldn’t mind. Honest, though, poor Xandra, I think she was glad to see me. To see anyone. I mean—” throwing his shot back—“it was crazy… those bad friends… she was all alone out there. Drinking a lot, afraid to go to work. Something could have happened to her, easy—no neighbors, really creepy. Because Bobo Silver—well, Bobo was actually not so bad guy. ‘The Mensch’? They don’t call him that for nothing! Xandra was scared to death of him but he didn’t go after her for your dad’s debt, not serious anyway. Not at all. And your dad was in for a lot. Probably he realized she was broke—your dad had fucked her over good and proper, too. Might as well be decent about it. Can’t get blood out of a turnip. But those other people, those friends of hers so called, were mean like bankers. You know? ‘You owe me,’ really hard, fucking connected, scary. Worse than him! Not so big sum even, but she was still way short and they were being nasty, all—” (mocking head tilt, aggressive finger point) “ ‘fuck you, we’re not going to wait, you better figure something out,’ like that. Anyway—good I went back when I did because then I was able to help.” “Help how?” “By giving her back the moneys I took.”

“You’d kept it?” “Well, no,” he said reasonably. “Had spent it. But—had something else going, see. Because right after the coke ran out? I had taken the money to Jimmy at the gun shop and bought more. See, I was buying it for me and Amber—just the two of us. Very very beautiful girl, very innocent and special. Very young too, like only fourteen! But just that one night at MGM Grand, we had got so close, just sitting on the bathroom floor all night up at KT’s dad’s suite and talking. Didn’t even kiss! Talk talk talk! I all but wept from it. Really opened up our hearts to each other. And—” hand to his breastbone—“I felt so sad when the day came, like why did it have to be over? Because we could have sat there talking forever to each other! and been so perfect and happy! That’s how close we got to each other, see, in just that one night. Anyway—this is why I went to Jimmy. He had really shitty coke— not half so good as Stewart and Lisa’s. But everyone knew, see—everyone had heard about that weekend at MGM Grand, me with all that blow. So people came to me. Like—dozen people my first day back at school. Throwing their moneys at me. ‘Will you get me some… will you get me some… will you get some for my bro… I have ADD, I need it for my homework.…’ Pretty soon was selling to senior football players and half the basketball team. Lots of girls too… friends of Amber and KT’s… Jordan’s friends too… college students at UNLV! Lost money on the first few batches I sold—didn’t know what to ask, sold fat for low price, wanted everyone to like me, yah yah yah. But once I figured it out—I was rich! Jimmy gave me huge discount, he was making lots of green off it too. I was doing him big favor, see, selling drugs to kids too scared to buy them—scared of people like Jimmy who sold them. KT… Jordan… those girls had a lot of money! Always happy to front me. Coke is not like E—I sold that too, but it was up and down, whole bunch then none for days, for coka I had a lot of regulars and they called two and three times a week. I mean, just KT—” “Wow.” Even after so many years, her name struck a chord. “Yes! To KT!” We raised our glasses and drank. “What a beauty!” Boris slammed his glass down. “I used to get dizzy around her. Just to breathe her same air.”

“Did you sleep with her?” “No… God, I tried… but she gave me a hand job in her little brother’s bedroom one night when she was wasted and in a very nice mood.” “Man, I sure left at the wrong time.” “You sure did. I came in my pants before she even got the zip down. And KT’s allowance—” reaching for my empty shot glass. “Two thousand a month! That is what she got for clothes only! Only KT already has so many clothes it is like, why does she need to buy more? Anyway by Christmas for me it was like in the movies where they have the ching-ching and the dollar signs. Phone never stopped ringing. Everybody’s best friend! Girls I never saw before, kissing me, giving me gold jewelry off their own necks! I was doing all the drugs I could do, drugs every day, every night, lines as long as my hand, and still money everywhere. I was like the Scarface of our school! One guy gave me a motorcycle—another guy, a used car. I would go to pick my clothes from off the floor—hundreds of dollars falling out from the pockets—no idea where it came from.” “This is a lot of information, really fast.” “Well, tell me about it! This is my usual learning process. They say experience is good teacher, and normally is true, but I am lucky this experience did not kill me. Now and then… when I have some beers sometimes… I’ll maybe hit a line or two? But mostly I do not like it any more. Burned myself out good. If you had met me maybe five years ago? I was all like—” sucking in his cheeks—“so. But—” the waiter had reappeared with more herring and beer—“enough about all that. You—” he looked me up and down—“what? Doing very nicely for yourself, I’d say?” “All right, I guess.” “Ha!” He leaned back with his arm along the back of the booth. “Funny old world, right? Antiques trade? The old poofter? He got you in to it?” “That’s right.” “Big racket, I heard.” “That’s right.” He eyed me up and down. “You happy?” he said. “Not very.” “Listen, then! I have great idea! Come work for me!” I burst out laughing. “No, not kidding! No no,” he said, shushing me imperiously as I tried to talk over him, pouring me a new shot, sliding the glass across the table to me, “what is he giving you? Serious. I will give you two times.” “No, I like my job—” over-pronouncing the words, was I as wrecked as I sounded?—“I like what I do.” “Yes?” He lifted his glass to me. “Then why aren’t you happy?” “I don’t want to talk about it.” “And why not?” I waved my hand dismissively. “Because—” I’d lost track quite how many shots I’d had. “Just because.” “If not job then—which is it?” He had thrown back his own shot, tossing his head grandly, and started in on the new plate of herring. “Money problems? Girl?” “Neither.” “Girl then,” he said triumphantly. “I knew it.” “Listen—” I drained the rest of my vodka, slapped the table—what a genius I was, I couldn’t stop smiling, I’d had the best idea in years!—“enough of this. Come on—let’s go! I’ve got a big big surprise for you.” “Go?” said Boris, visibly bristling. “Go where?” “Come with me. You’ll see.” “I want to stay here.” “Boris—” He sat back. “Let it go, Potter,” he said, putting his hands up. “Just relax.” “Boris!” I looked at the bar crowd, as if expecting mass outrage, and then back at him. “I’m sick of sitting here! I’ve been here for hours.” “But—” He was annoyed. “I cleared this whole night for you! I had stuff to do! You’re leaving?” “Yes! And you’re coming with me. Because—” I threw my arms out —“you have to see the surprise!” “Surprise?” He threw down his balled-up napkin. “What surprise?” “You’ll find out.” What was the matter with him? Had he forgotten how to have fun? “Now come on, let’s get out of here.” “Why? Now?” “Just because!” The bar room was a dark roar; I’d never felt so sure of myself in my life, so pleased at my own cleverness. “Come on. Drink up!” “Do we really have to do this?” “You’ll be glad. Promise. Come on!” I said, reaching over and shaking his shoulder amicably as I thought. “I mean, no shit, this is a surprise you can’t believe how good.”

He leaned back with folded arms and regarded me suspiciously. “I think you are angry with me.” “Boris, what the fuck.” I was so drunk I stumbled, standing up, and had to catch myself on the table. “Don’t argue. Let’s just go.” “I think it is a mistake to go somewhere with you.” “Oh?” I looked at him with one half closed eye. “You coming, or not?” Boris looked at me coolly. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose and said: “You won’t tell me where we’re going.” “No.” “You won’t mind if my driver takes us then?” “Your driver?” “Sure. He is waiting like two-three blocks away.” “Fuck.” I looked away and laughed. “You have a driver?” “You don’t mind if we go with him, then?” “Why would I?” I said, after a brief pause. Drunk as I was, his manner had brought me up short: he was looking at me with a peculiar, calculating, uninflected quality I had never seen before. Boris tossed back the rest of his vodka and then stood up. “Very well,” he said, twirling an unlit cigarette loosely in his fingertips. “Let’s get this nonsense over with, then.”

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thekidultlife · 7 years

Text

The Rain Sweeps You Away | Hybrid!Woozi

Words: 6740

Genre: Fluff + Angst + Smut (don’t want smut? feel free to skip the last part)

A/N: Ok. I need to write this because I’m in love with Lee Jihoon. What is with this era? Why is he more handsome now instead of cute? Jesus. Anyway, if I’m in the mood, I might do an update this week so yeah. This is basically not proofread so forgive my mistakes. Enjoy!

“Can you stand up?”

He had almost missed the gentleness of your voice against the harsh clap of thunder and the repetitive pattering of the rain. The tips of his ears were numb with cold and his tail was already damp. It didn’t help at all how his meager clothing was making it easier for hypothermia to crawl under his skin.

He heard you sigh and then felt a hand reaching for his jaw and tilting his head up.

What he saw was not the bleak grey world which he knew like the back of his hand—but a pair of eyes that seemed to stare determinedly at the deep dark void of his heart. He always looked but did not see. Yet he realized there in that moment that your eyes were the first thing that he saw in his entire life.

You flinched when his head slumped against the palm of your hand and sighed once more when you understood that he had lost consciousness. After deciding what your next course of action was, you took his arm and slung it over your shoulder—thinking of the best remedy for a cat hybrid with a fever—despite the freezing rain dripping down your forehead.

The warm water hissed as you stepped into the shower; all done with cleaning and tucking the poor guy underneath several layers of blankets on your sofa. You pinched the bridge of your nose as you tried to alleviate the strain on your eyes.

A lot has happened that day but what you least expected was taking a hybrid home. It wasn’t your first time seeing a hybrid, in fact, you were actually studying them as your major in university. Hybrids existed because of humanity’s endless thirst for knowledge—like, what happens if ‘you put two and two together?’. Thus, a new species was created and it comes with new opportunities, as well as new ways of exercising cruelty.

The healed scars on his back and his wrists didn’t escape your attention.

You closed the shower shut and reached for the towel to dry yourself, yet instead of grabbing the towel, someone had grabbed you rather forcefully. Your vision blurred and your body froze as freezing air hit your nakedness like a harsh slap. It all came down when you felt yourself being slammed against the hard, cold tiles of the bathroom and seeing a pair of wild dark eyes.

“Who are you?! What are you going to do to me?!”

Flinching at every word he uttered, you hitched your breath. You knew how hybrids were much stronger and more intimidating than normal human. Rather than a cat hybrid, you might have brought home a panther with his hair as dark as midnight and sharp nails digging on your wrists. Struggling to spit out a reply, your lips quivered to answer the hybrid’s questions.

“I-I just…you were…you l-looked like you needed help. I just…w-wanted to help you,” you replied honestly, searching his eyes for approval or acknowledgement yet he gave you neither of those.

“Don’t you humans always say that?” he mocked you and smirked, somehow a bit too sexily. “You treat us hybrids as fucking pets who can’t take care of themselves. Well guess what? I can. So leave me alone or else…”

And you didn’t even have to guess, he had passed out once again, now leaning against your bare body. He can run around all day biting threats at you yet at the end, he was still sick and he needed you—whether he liked it or not. Well, unless he wanted to die.

You simply bit your lips in frustration and carried him back to the sofa where you once again placed him carefully under the comfort of warm blankets and soft pillows. Once you were done, you sat on the arm chair opposite of the sofa and observed the hybrid’s chest rising and falling slowly as he curled up comfortably. It was such a great contrast between how he looked like he was going to slash your throat earlier and how he looked like a domestic cat right now.

Making your way towards the kitchen, you heated up some cold milk in a saucepan and poured it on a glass. You then placed it on the coffee table—in case he woke up famished—and sat beside his curled figure, still staring at his endearing frown. Unable to resist, you moved your hand and patted his head as gently as you could. Surprisingly, he didn’t wake up; instead he gave a small purr as he leaned his head against your palm. You carefully scratched the back of his ear as your lips curved into a little smile—hoping that he wouldn’t try to leave in the morning.

“Well, it’s not that surprising.”

You muttered first thing in the morning with disheveled hair and your woolen blanket on your shoulders. It was still raining and the sofa with scattered pillows and blankets was empty. You knew what was going to happen yet there was still a tinge of disappointment in you that you tried so desperately to hide under a guise of nonchalance.

Picking up the empty glass of milk from the coffee table, you gave a bitter smile. “At least he drank it.”

You then moved slowly towards the kitchen to open the fridge after placing the glass on the sink for you to wash later. Looking at the contents of your refrigerator, you thought of eating bacon for breakfast yet there was no bacon to be found and you were sure you had bought enough the other day to last you a week. So you searched for your eggs then your leftover salad and then the tuna you saved for Saturday but they were all gone. To say the least, you were confused as fuck.

“What on earth? I swear this fridge was full yester—”

“The salad was delicious, by the way.”

You instantly whipped your head behind you and you immediately thought you had seen some illusion. The cat hybrid was sitting with legs crossed on the kitchen counter with a carton of milk on his hands as if there was nothing wrong.

“You’re welcome,” you replied with an arched brow as you turned to him; not the slight impressed. Yet he simply smirked at you and took a swig of his milk.

“Sure, anytime. By the way, I hope you like bacon and eggs,” he remarked and pointed at your small dining table where plates of bacon and eggs were steaming deliciously.

Staring back at him with an awe-struck expression, the hybrid grinned at you as his tail raised up playfully in a hook. At that time, you wondered how you never noticed the smell or sounds of cooking food yet you didn’t dwell on the thought any longer, instead, you slowly walked towards the table and just glanced at the food.

“How…why?” you asked him, averting your gaze from the juicy bacon to his sitting figure on your countertop yet he only shrugged at you.

“I was hungry and there were leftovers, so?” he replied as he drank once more from the milk carton yet you knew he simply wanted to thank you but was too shy to say the exact words. So you didn’t push the issue any further and sat in front of the table with a ghost of a smile lingering on your lips. But before, digging into the food, you called for the awkward hybrid sitting on your kitchen top.

“I can’t finish all of these. Help me here,” you told him yet he simply shook his head, dismissing you.

“I’m not hungry, besides hybrids don’t dine with humans—”

“Listen. In this house,” you started with a loud voice and a furious tone, refusing to let him talk. “HYBRIDS AND HUMANS ARE EQUAL. NOW BRING YOUR ASS HERE AND HELP ME FINISH THIS!”

The hybrid merely glanced at you with wide eyes and a slightly ajar mouth as he could not perturb why he was being scolded for knowing his place. Yet your irritated gaze simply bore through him that he had no choice but to follow and sit opposite of you.

You looked at him under your lashes and saw that he was unsure of what to do so you seized his hand and placed eating utensils on his palms and said, “Please help me finish.”

He gave you a hesitant look but took a piece of bacon and placed it on his plate. You smiled for a bit and slid to your seat in front of him as you also grabbed one whole fried egg. You both ate in silence with only the sound of the metal utensils clanging with the plate filled the entire room. It was you though, who first broke the silence with a comforting voice.

“You can stay here if you want to but if you want to go, then I won’t force you. But if you do stay, I would be more than happy to take care of you. I won’t treat you as my pet, but like a roommate or something.”

The cat hybrid gave you a stunned expression and just stared at you for almost a minute. He then averted his gaze back to his plate as if contemplating about something.

“Call me Jihoon, master,” he replied as his cheeks began to stain with red and you smiled endearingly at him.

“You don’t have to call me ‘master’. My name’s Y/N. Nice to meet you, Jihoonie.”

“It’s Jihoon. Don’t call me Jihoonie,” he corrected you with a slight glare on his eyes yet you were unaffected.

“Whatever you say, Jihoonie,” you grinned at him as you stood up from your seat. “Feel free to eat all of that, okay? I’ll just take a shower and we’ll go grocery shopping, again.”

Time moved relatively fast in the next few months. Jihoon became an everyday occurrence in your apartment and he had gradually became attached to you. At first, he would often go out when you’re not at home and would return when your classes were done but recently, he had lost interest in exploring the streets and started to tinker with your guitar at home. Though, he still wouldn’t let you touch him, you would secretly do so while he was sleeping on the couch. Both of you never really went out together especially when Jihoon had noticed the weird stares of the people around you to which he talked to you about one day.

“Y/N. I think you should really give me a collar,” he said as you were sitting on the sofa with him—you reading a book about hybrid diseases while he was playing some game on your phone.

“Why’d you ask?” you replied, flipping to another page about parasites as he shrugged at you.

“I just don’t like the way people look at us. You think I didn’t hear what that old hag next door said to you the other day?”

“Jihoonie,” you cooed at him and placed a comforting hand on his folded knees. “People talk, so let them talk. I don’t care what they say, but what’s important to me is you.”

“But Y/N—”

“Now, drop the idea. I would never let you wear a collar. It’s a derogatory symbol and besides, you’re not my pet but my roommate.”

Jihoon looked at you with an evocative gaze over the phone he was holding and observed your reading figure as you went over the book. He was amazed at how his current life was turning out and was beginning to feel afraid of the moment he would wake up from this beautiful dream.

You knew Jihoon must have come from an abusive place with how he was so set into the standards of hybrid cruelty. During his first weeks with you, you saw how he would flinch when his name was called or when you would slam the door because of how stressful your day was. He would look unsure and stray into the remote recesses of your apartment, maybe like an embedded instinct to hide from his aggressor.

However, you never actually tried to talk to him about his past—waiting for Jihoon to tell you out of free will.

“Jihoonie, I have something to tell you,” you said as you entered your apartment and spotted his nestled figure on the couch and plucking some tunes on the guitar. His tail stood straight up and quivered in the slightest as he heard your voice and brought the guitar down the floor.

“Is that good news or bad news? And please don’t mess with my hair,” he asked as you patted his head and laughed when he grabbed your hand and led you to the sofa.

“I’m not sure what you think of it. But I registered you the other day and the confirmation just arrived.”

“So? What does that mean?”

You shifted on your seat and looked at him directly, “Well, that means you’re officially part of this household and you’re officially my hybrid.”

“I belong here? I belong to you?” he asked slowly and you immediately panicked, thinking that he wouldn’t like the idea of being tied down to you.

“I…well, I had to register you or the authorities might take you away. I don’t want them to take you away and put you in some pound that would treat you like trash. I have to make this legal even if the law is prejudiced. Besides, there are benefits for you which is subsidized by the government, so we can actually save some money. I’m sorry if you don’t—”

You never actually finished rambling when Jihoon pulled you to his side and embraced you tightly. You were shocked at how he had finally let you touch him fully but you didn’t let your chance pass and reciprocated the hug.

“I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to wake up and go back to the streets,” Jihoon confessed as you listened to his rapid heartbeat. “I want to stay here with you.”

“You can stay here with me as much as you want,” you murmured with a smile on your lips.

“You know, before…” he began as he held you tighter as if you might leave if he didn’t. “When…when I was young, well um…I was abandoned by my parents. They left me in the streets and I grew up working in a lot of places.”

His expression was full of bitterness while he recalled so many cruel memories, thus, you carefully raised your arm and cupped his cheek and caressed his skin as softly as you could. He looked up to you and placed a hand over yours. You thought he was trying to remove your hand but when he closed his eyes, you realized that he was trying to memorize the feeling of your touch on his cheek.

“There…there was a time when I, um…you know, I worked in a strip club.”

Widening your eyes, you gave a nonverbal expression of astonishment yet as soon as he saw your face, Jihoon immediately denied what you were thinking.

“No, no, no! Not like that! I was just a waiter!” he exclaimed as you closed your eyes in relief. “There were a lot of us…hybrids—most of the prostitutes are—but I was almost sold to some fucking pervert who had a thing for young guys. Good thing I escaped successfully and well, that’s how you found me…”

“You don’t have to worry anymore. You’re part of this home and I promise I’ll take care of you,” you replied with a tight lipped smile on your lips as he hummed in response.

You broke away from his embrace and gathering up some courage, you placed a hand on his head and gently stroked him. Letting himself fall into the tempting tenderness of your touch, Jihoon closed his eyes and leaned against your hand as he gave a small purr; his tail entwining on your other arm.

When he opened his eyes, his normal narrow stare was back but there was a pink tinge on his cheeks that made you giggle a bit.

“I’ll only let you do this today, so use your time wisely,” he told you with forced coldness but you didn’t believe him. You knew he actually liked being touched, he was just too shy and too proud to tell you directly.

“Then, I guess I’ll be hugging you all night,” you replied and tackled him on the sofa; your arms encircling his waist as you buried your face on his chest as he elicited a tired groan.

Most of your time with Jihoon from that day on was filled with slight touches from him or full hugs and petting from you. He didn’t complain any longer and allowed you to do what you wanted to do. It was monotonous but you both enjoyed each other’s presence as months passed.

You began to see him in a different light—his rambunctious laughter which echoed across the corners of your bedroom as both of you lie down next to each other, his smooth calming voice when he talked to you about his past experiences or when he would sing you a song if you feel under the weather, his rare smile which more often than not, curved into a mischievous smirk. You always thought he was beautiful and charming, but now, he was really, really handsome—both in appearance and personality.

It might be near your first year together that you encountered the topic of heat. It was probably because you were learning about it in university that you thought of bringing it up to Jihoon one evening as he leaned against your shoulder while you were watching some cooking show.

“Jihoonie…I was thinking…” you started as you began to tinker with your phone. “You’re a grown hybrid…so I guess you have experienced being in heat, right?”

Jihoon immediately jolted from his place and looked at you incredulously as he began to blush intensely. “Are you seriously going to ask me that?!”

You shrugged and he sighed as he pursed his lips in annoyance. “Yes, I do go in heat and it starts next month at the most. Satisfied now?”

Actually, you were not that satisfied. You were just beginning to open up the subject and you silently apologized to him in your head; knowing that Jihoon would have to endure a lot of embarrassment tonight.

“Um…so, uh…what do you usually do…when you know, you’re in heat?” you asked and anticipated the scowl beginning to form in his face.

“Is this for some school project? Jesus,” he rolled his eyes at you but answered anyway, “I have to take care of it or else I’ll—”

“By yourself or with another hybrid?”

“By myself, of course. How am I supposed to find a girl with my personality?”

A bright idea popped into your head. “Should I find you one?”

Jihoon stopped his glare as he heard you and gave you a poker face which you could not comprehend why.

“You don’t have to bother. I don’t need it.”

You wanted to say more but he was already moving towards the bedroom that you were left alone in the sofa with questions unanswered.

But you were persistent though. After that night, you pestered him with going to government websites which offered hybrids relief during their heat but Jihoon straight up ignored you. You never got the chance to ask him why though because of how a friend of yours suggested a nice guy to you and you were busy seeing him these days. In reality though, you just wanted to escape the recesses of your apartment where you were dangerously getting attached to Jihoon. Too attached actually. And you were unsure of how to approach him anymore.

Jihoon noticed how late you were going home but he never brought it up to you. Of course, he had a feeling it was a guy with how you were spending late nights on your phone talking to someone; being all giggly and shit. He told himself that he felt nothing—as far as you were concerned, you two were just roommates and you were even nice enough to find him a mate. So it was nothing. It was nothing.

What he didn’t expect was a dinner date in your apartment—in his haven which he shared with you. He didn’t at least liked the idea; so Jihoon tried to escape that night from your apartment, from you and from his growing feelings. But you were being so cruel that you begged him to stay; unknowingly breaking him from the inside.

“Jihoonie, this is Kim Mingyu. Mingyu, this is Jihoon,” you introduced him to the tall electricity pole you were standing beside with but he simply paid no attention to the smiley waving bamboo stick and played with your phone.

“Don’t mind him, Mingyu. He’s on his period. Anyway, I’ve prepared us dinner so why don’t you take a seat by the table?” you hurriedly said and marched towards the kitchen.

“No, I’ll help you, Y/N!” Mingyu earnestly said and helped you with getting the baked pasta from the oven.

Suddenly though, Mingyu tripped on something and spilled the pasta on the floor. You were surprised at the loud cluttering behind you and saw Mingyu kneeling on the floor with Jihoon sitting quietly on the counter.

“Oops. My bad,” Jihoon apologized yet his words were dripping with sarcasm, his tail thrashing against the cupboards.

You glared at him yet he only raised a brow at you—declaring an official war between the two of you.

“Don’t worry, Mingyu! I’ll take care of that! We can just have pizza and all,” you assured him and looked for the mop.

“I’ll call the pizza shop,” Jihoon volunteered, “Mingyu, what would you like?” he asked with a sweet smile; a little too sweet, but Migyu never noticed so he replied eagerly.

“Peperoni! I seriously don’t like pizza with pineapples,” Mingyu confessed as Jihoon nodded laughing evilly as he dialed on the phone.

Well, you weren’t at least surprised when the pizza delivery man gave you two boxes of Hawaiian Overload. You knew who the culprit was since Jihoon never volunteered to do anything especially when he openly hated someone and you simply sighed at your ruined date.

“You don’t have to eat the pizza, Mingyu. I’m sure Jihoon could finish it all,” you told the tall guy who was shyly smiling at you while you glared at the cat hybrid downing his third pizza slice like everything was perfectly normal.

“No, no! I’ll eat it!” Mingyu replied and forced himself to swallow the slice. In a few minutes though, Mingyu was dashing towards the comfort room, getting rid of the contents of his stomach. You were scrambling to find medicine for him yet he simply walked towards you after vomiting, clutching his aching stomach.

“I’m sorry, Y/N but I have to go. I’m sorry if I have to say this but I don’t think the two of us will work out…” he rambled as he dashed out of the apartment as you were left inside your apartment with a shocked expression as Jihoon simply shrugged and ate the last slice of pizza.

“Good riddance,” he muttered under his breath and stood up as he licked his fingers.

His voice brought you back to reality and the irritation and disappointment which you kept inside of you began to boil until you exploded.

“Jihoon!” you shouted his name from across the room. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

He looked at you with a frown on his face as his tail went down and curled between his legs. “Nothing. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit!” you exclaimed and walked towards him yet he remained fixed his place, looking nonchalant. “I know you didn’t like Mingyu but you don’t have to destroy my date! In fact, you actually destroyed my whole month!”

“Hm. Isn’t that unfair to blame everything on me?”

“Then tell me why you’re ignoring me! Tell me why you did what you just did!”

You immediately noticed how Jihoon narrowed his eyes and barred his sharp teeth as he approached you slowly. It wouldn’t be too weird to say that you were afraid of him at that moment yet you were too overwhelmed with rage that you didn’t care what will happen next.

“Have you realized how fucking annoying it is when I hear you giggling at four in the morning or when you arrive home late and stay like maybe five hours on your phone or forget to do some grocery shopping because you were daydreaming and shit?” He growled at you as he looked straight into your eyes before continuing. “Plus, you have the audacity to hook me up with some hybrid which I don’t know a shit about! What do you think would that make me feel? I thought you treated me like your equal but right now, you’re looking at me like I’m just a pet.”

“Jihoon!” You called him as he went to the bedroom right after he rambled; seizing his wrist. “I’m sorry if I neglected you this past month. I was so thoughtless that I never considered your situation but now that I know, I promise I would never do it again.”

“Really? Would you then stop nagging me about getting a mate?” he mocked you as he turned himself slightly towards the bedroom door.

“But, Jihoonie! You know better than anyone that you can’t just take care of yourself during heat every single time! You know that the effectivity of just jacking off would decrease the more you do it. It won’t be enough! It’s your own self telling you that you have to procreate and ensure the survival of your species. You have to mate someday!”

He didn’t speak. So you continued.

“You have to find someone or you’ll die and I don’t want that. I don’t want to treat you like a pet but it’s a necessary part of your system and you just can’t ignore it.”

“Then, I guess dying is better then. This shitty life doesn’t do me any good any—”

He halted mid-sentence as you slapped him harshly, his hand immediately curled to his cheek as tears welled up in your eyes.

“Don’t you dare say that!” you told him in a voice exhausted from the stressful night you were going through. “Does that mean that the time we spent together doesn’t mean anything you? Does that mean that I don’t mean anything to you? Because you mean a lot to me Jihoon and I don’t know what I’ll do if you die and leave me!”

“Even if you say that, you would still leave me one day and marry someone else!” he shouted in a loud voice that you were taken aback. “What do you mean to me, you ask? You mean everything! You’re my everything, Y/N! But you will never think of me that way because I’m just a filthy hybrid and you’re a human being!”

You paused for a while to understand what he just shouted at you and when you finally got the gist of it, you asked apprehensively.

“D-Did…did you just tell me that…”

“Are you fucking deaf? Yes! I just told you I love you——fuck…I can’t take that back now, can I?”

“No…I don’t think so.” You shook your head furiously.

“Ah, fuck this.”

Jihoon simply grabbed your face and slammed his lips unto yours; throwing caution into the wind. However, rather than rough and harsh, his lips were soft and gentle against yours as he nibbled slightly on your lower lip. Your hands snaked its way around his neck and reciprocated happily to his kiss; relishing how this kiss seemed to answer every question inside your head.

His tail was now entwined along your leg, moving up and down slowly as he purred on your lips. You gasped when he bit on your lip as he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in and play with yours. One of his hands which were cupping your cheek traveled to your waist and pulled you closer to him as yours began to play with his dark hair, messing it as much as you could.

When you both pulled away, Jihoon rested his head on yours and breathed in the image of you staring at him with swollen lips and dilated eyes. He swore his heat might come too early with how you look so deliciously enticing.

“I was actually worried that you don’t feel the same way as I do. That’s why I tried seeing another guy…” you confessed sheepishly yet he only laughed at you, seeing as how you were being such an idiot.

“Well, good thing I got rid of that puppy. You already have a cat anyway.”

“Puppy? You mean Mingyu?”

“Yeah. He smells like a dog and I hate it on you. He must have a pet at home or something.”

“Mingyu doesn’t have a pet!”

“Well, looks like he’s into hybrids as well.”

“Wait, what?!”

You never noticed that a month had passed since you and Jihoon became official. Of course, there were a lot of people who thought you were disgusting but there were also some who gave both of you their best wishes. Your parents weren’t really that surprised, your mom remembering how much she teased you with dating a hybrid because you loved animals a lot.

It was raining again when you left the university and headed straight home where Jihoon was waiting for you for a coffee date. You carefully placed the wet umbrella outside the door and walked into your apartment—it was unusually dark that you began to feel really scared—wondering where Jihoon might be.

“Jihoonie?” you called across the hallway as you walked into the living room, and then into the bedroom where you heard slight sounds.

Upon opening the ajar door, you were greeted by a half dressed Jihoon on your bed, his button up shirt open and his hard cock out as he stroked himself desperately. He gazed straight at you with tinged cheeks and parted lips as he continued to jack off without stopping.

“Y/N…m-my heat…came suddenly…I’m s-sorry…fuck—please h-help me…” he told you weakly as he grunted against your comforter.

You stared at him for a second but immediately dropped your belongings on the floor and scrambled to his side. You shifted him so he was lying on his back and replaced his hand on his cock with yours, stroking him as steadily as you could. Jihoon then pulled you closer and crashed his lips on yours—licking and sucking your lips until you were moaning on his mouth.

“Shit…Y/N…!” Jihoon groaned as he rolled his hips into your hand; your thumb massaging the tip.

His increased senses made your scent a lot stronger; filling and dulling his senses until he allowed himself to succumb to the pleasure of your hand stroking him. Jihoon bucked against your palm as he felt his long awaited climax pooling on his stomach; groaning at the way you tightened your grip on his cock.

“Y/N…! I’m g-going to…! Fuck…!” Jihoon whispered as breathy moans mixed with his words; his tail entangling itself on your leg as you increased your pace.

It didn’t take him long though to reach his climax—releasing on his stomach as you continued to stroke him until he seized your hand and licked his cum on your fingers. You were obviously surprised with what he was doing; you knew he was horny as fuck but the way he looked when he was sucking on your digits turned you on a lot more.

“Do you feel better now? I think you’ll have more self-control now compared earlier,” you asked as you gave him a peck on the lips yet he simply chuckled at you, making you gaze at him questioningly.

“What? You think it’s over?” Jihoon asked you with a dark glint on his eyes as his grin showed his cute little canines. “It’s my turn now, Y/N.”

With his signature smirk on his face, Jihoon flipped you so that you were now lying on the bed as he hovered above you. Your cheeks were now stained red and your breath ragged as you two shared gazes with one another. He smirked at how you looked like his prey and grabbed your wrists to pin you on the mattress. You gasped as Jihoon latched on to your neck, sucking your skin here and there as he left numerous splotches of color.

“You look so delicious, baby. Want me to eat you out?” he hummed against your skin. Shivering at how he glided his sharp fangs on your shoulder, you clutched on his loose shirt and as he moved his hand underneath your sweater, then your pants and threw it somewhere on the floor.

“Jihoon…wait…”

Yet he simply ignored you and bent down to pepper kisses on your stomach down to your waist as he played with the band of your panties; then moving his caress towards your inner thighs. You bit your lip at how his touch felt so good to you that in just a few minutes, you were already drenching your underwear.

Your thoughts were interrupted though when he suddenly cupped your clothed pussy; earning a rasped moan from you. Jihoon then felt for the wet stain on your panties and grinned—proud that he was able to arouse you—as he rubbed his finger against your clit, making you groan out his name and clutch on the sheets. Eventually, he slid your panties and bra off and shifting on his knees, Jihoon placed himself between your legs and spread them widely.

With a long swipe, he licked your slit; flattening his tongue on the process as you closed your eyes tightly, trying to control yourself. But he was relentless. Jihoon attacked your sensitive clit as he sucked it as aggressively as he could with you grabbing on a fistful of his black hair—careful that you might press on his cat ears too hard.

“Oh my god! No…wait…Jihoon! Ah!”

Yet he didn’t stop there. He then eased a finger into you, then another without even pausing from abusing your bud. You were basically bucking against his tongue as he spread his two fingers in you and his tongue licking your inside walls that had you screaming for his name.

“Jihoonie…! Yes…ah…! Fuck! I’m…!”

It wasn’t that surprising that Jihoon had you coming in a short period of time with how he was so good at using his mouth and maybe because of how his pheromones from his heat was affecting you. You were exhausted when he removed his fingers from you and inserted them in your mouth which you gladly sucked and licked, tasting yourself.

You gave him a tempting look with your eyes half-lidded and tongue playing with his digits. Jihoon gazed at you the same way; clearly not satisfied with just doing oral. He then moved his fingers to his now hard member, palming and stroking himself as he gave you an absolutely erotic expression with plump lips parted and his shirt exposing his broad shoulders.

“Seems like I’m still hard. You would help me, right Y/N?” he asked you with a smug smile growing on his lips.

You knew as much as a real hybrid does that mating was exclusive to partners only and pleasure cannot be derived from someone outside the relationship. Thus, the first time having sex is usually a bonding rite where hybrids mark their mates—whether human or a fellow hybrid.

You bit your lip at his suggestion—a sign that you were more than willing to help him out as Jihoon cupped your cheek and leaned in to kiss you for a bit.

“You do realize what this means, Jihoonie?” you asked, your need for security showing through as he leaned against your forehead.

“You do remember what I told you last month?”

“You told me you love me.”

“Good. And you love me as well?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I love you, you love me. Problem solved. Now, drop the idea because I know what I’m about to do.”

You nodded slowly after he dispelled your insecurities as he smiled at you reassuringly. After which, he went for the bedside drawer and grabbed a packet of condom; snipping it open with his fangs and rolled it into his dick.

“I should get some pills next time,” you muttered mindlessly as you watched him but suddenly blushed when he raised his brows at you. “No I mean, a hybrid can still impregnate a human being and we’re still not ready yet and—”

Jihoon simply gave you a long-drawn kiss to stop you from talking technicalities which were immediately forgotten with how his lips felt so soft against yours.

“Chat time’s over. Now let me hear you moan,” he whispered against your lips as he aligned himself to your entrance and pushed himself in. You indeed moaned as you felt Jihoon spread you to proportions you least expected with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

Despite how good it felt to be wrapped around you, he waited for you to adjust to his size as he wiped away the tears pooling on your eyes—kissing you as gently and earnestly as he could for you to forget the pain rather than focusing on his self-gratification.

When you finally rolled your hips against his, Jihoon took it as a sign to begin moving, thrusting slowly but surely. There was a sudden jolt of pain but it gradually disappeared as Jihoon preoccupied your mind with bites and nips on your neck and collarbone. He was sucking on your pulse point when you begged him to move faster and so did he comply.

“Y/N…you’re so tight. Fuck…baby, you feel so…good…!”

You were basically screaming his name over and over as you felt his tip hitting your g-spot after he shifted his angle. Jihoon wasn’t safe either from the onslaught of pleasure brought from you clasping on his dick that he had to use every ounce of control he had to not come.

Eventually, he snaked his hand between your bodies and pressed his thumb on your clit; rubbing it relentlessly in circles. You whimpered at the sudden surge of electricity and tightened up around his cock which had him groaning loudly against your chest. You felt him twitch inside of you which you realized was a sign that he was so near.

As Jihoon pinched your clit and thrusted into you a few more times, you came undone, rapidly clenching and unclenching around him. As you were climaxing, he leaned your head to the other side and bit you on your neck—marking you as his. You groaned at the pain but it was immediately overwhelmed by the pleasure from coming. Jihoon then followed soon after—locking inside you and filling up the condom.

For a few moments, both of you stayed still as he lapped the bite,marks he gave you but eventually pulled away from you to dispose of the condom. When Jihoon came back, you were lying on your side and feeling the indentations of his teeth on your skin—hissing when you touched it too harshly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bit too hard,” he apologized as he climbed back to bed and ran a washcloth on your skin to clean you up, kissing you in random parts.

“No, it’s okay. It’ll heal. I’m just…you know, fascinated that this feels more important than a wedding ring,” you replied with a smile as he became flustered at the implications of what just happened.

“W-well, if you want a ring…um, I can buy you…one,” he stuttered and mentally punched himself from saying corny romantic lines but your adorable giggle brought him back to you.

“Finish cleaning up so we can rest. I’m sure heat doesn’t just end in one day,” you told him with a suggestive grin which he returned as he stood up, his tail gliding against your leg sensually.

“Well, I hope you’re ready.”

-Admin Hyeri

#seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #lee jihoon #woozi #seventeen woozi

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zenonaa · 6 years

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Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya, Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya/Kirigiri Kyouko, Fukawa Touko/Kirigiri Kyouko, Kirigiri Kyouko/Togami Byakuya (Dangan Ronpa) Characters: Togami Byakuya, Fukawa Touko, Kirigiri Kyouko Additional Tags: Togami Kijou, Togami Shinobu - Freeform, Naegi Makoto - Freeform, Yukizome Chisa - Freeform, past Maizono Sayaka/Kirigiri Kyouko, Later chapters are e-rated, mentions of csa, au where despair didn't happen and junko was content, with leaving the fridge open and moving things slightly everyday Summary: Togami hires Kirigiri to solve a mass murder that occurred at his wedding anniversary party. One hitman was apprehended, but he refuses to say a single word, while the other got away. The mastermind could be anyone, but list of suspects is getting shorter, and Kirigiri finds herself learning more about the Togamis than she anticipated.

“Did you sleep well?” asked Kyouko, lifting her gaze from the cup of green tea cradled in her hands. Touko and Byakuya sat opposite her, eating identical breakfasts consisting of egg omelette, salmon, leek and potato miso soup, and salad.

Staff darted about like fireflies. They didn’t seem to be actively watching those at the table, but as soon as anyone indicated that they needed something or had finished eating, somebody would pop up beside them, ready. Currently, Kyouko had barely eaten her breakfast, with only part of her omelette missing and her salmon fillets in the process of being consumed. She intended to eat more, but that could wait. For now, she chewed slowly, focused on Byakuya, waiting for an answer from him.

He swallowed some omelette. Touko blinked blearily and wrinkled her nose, like imitating a bunny rabbit.

“I don’t have any interest in platitudes,” he replied, and with barely a pause to say that, he continued eating.

Kyouko quirked her brow. “It’s a genuine question, Togami-kun. After the shooting, you haven’t wavered in your work... I would understand if the stress had a negative impact on your health.”

Byakuya almost smirked.

“Hmph... A lot of other people would require some kind of recovery period. If you really wish to know, I slept well,” he said with shadows under his eyes at least a month old.

His eyes flitted to one of the four bowls surrounding Kyouko’s plate of salmon fillets. Specifically, the bowl with her omelette, one small slice cut out of it. He trained his gaze on her.

“Is there something wrong with the omelette?” he asked.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” she replied. “Though, it does taste quite strongly of fish.”

“I noticed that as well. The chef must have used more katsuobushi than usual, but that doesn’t make it inedible,” he said.

Kyouko set down her cup of tea and tackled her soup. This breakfast was a lot bigger than the French style ones, and bigger than she would have liked, but she needed Byakuya in a good mood if she wanted him to consider her invitation for a get-together, so after she finished the soup, she ate all of the omelette.

If she wanted to begin the arduous process of convincing Byakuya to join her for a drink, as per Makoto’s suggestion last night, she needed to get started as soon as possible.

“Togami-kun,” she said. She could do this.

“Hm?” he went, about to take in a forkful of salad.

“I was wondering if you and Touko-san would be interested in joining me for one evening,” she said.

Touko hesitated, then narrowed her eyes.

“Why?” asked Byakuya, studying Kyouko.

“Just for a get-together,” said Kyouko, idly swaying her fork.

“Fine,” said Byakuya, and he picked up his cup of coffee.

“It would be...” Kyouko was midway through stroking her hair with her free hand and froze. “You will?”

She had mentally prepared herself for a week of attempting to persuade Byakuya and Touko, fearing that she might have to resort to bribes or worse, sweet talk, but she seemed to have obtained his approval on the very first morning after her conversation on the phone with Makoto.

“I hate repeating myself,” Byakuya replied. He set down his cup. “Yes. We will join you for a ‘get-together’ at some point. If you ask me again, I will change my answer.”

He lowered his gaze, seeming thoughtful.

“Yes, why not...? It might be pleasant to have some respite,” he added, mostly to himself.

Of everyone in their class back at Hope’s Peak, Byakuya and Touko were definitely in the top five for most asocial. Kyouko would even have gone as far to say that they were in the top two, but she couldn’t have been trailing far behind them. She should have been grateful that she won Byakuya over so easily, and she supposed that part of her was, but her victory was made as bitter as fruit from a terminalia chebula tree by the idea that he might have his own agenda for accepting her request that she didn’t know about yet.

Her grip on her fork stayed firm and her guard stayed up.

“But you will have to wait until the end of the week, as I don’t have any time to fritter away on little get-togethers before then. I’ll be away from the manor entirely until the weekend,” he said.

Though she probably knew about this already, Touko wilted beside him. His hand drifted over to his croissant.

“Tell me, though, how do you plan to entertain us?” he asked Kyouko. He picked up the croissant.

Touko, her hair unrestrained from any braids, fidgeted with a strand of it, also looking at Kyouko.

“... Talk?” suggested Kyouko. “And drink?”

Byakuya rolled his eyes. “You can’t be serious.”

“You drink, don’t you, Togami-kun? Wine, at least,” she said with a frown.

And they were all over twenty, so they wouldn’t be breaking any laws.

“... I do drink, but sitting around just doing that is rather dull, wouldn’t you agree?” he said. A grin tugged at his lips. “Come to our room on Saturday at six. I have something in mind.”

Ah. He did have his own agenda after all.

After breakfast, Kyouko left the other two to their own devices and set up camp at one of the tables in the Togami Manor Library. Whoever was responsible for the upkeep of this room was as diligent as the hands on a wrist watch. The varnished furnishing and leather armchairs all showed off a sheen of light, and so far, she hadn’t seen any dust on either of the two floors, the spiraling stair rail and not on any of the bookshelves with their compact innards.

She rummaged through the storage room at the back of the Togami Manor Library for the photo albums that Byakuya told her would be there the day before. Her intention with the photographs wasn’t to find anything that would immediately solve the case, but to give her some insight on the victims. See if they appeared with anyone a lot. See if they stopped appearing with anyone a lot. The perpetrators must have had some kind of connection to the Togami Conglomerate or were hired by someone who did. Besides, other than wait for interviews with witnesses, she currently didn’t have much else to do for the case.

Hope’s Peak also had a storage room attached to its library, but it hadn’t had anything worth her attention. One might have expected a place as powerful and influential as Hope’s Peak to have access to top secret files never released to the public, but it didn’t. Well, nothing too secret, like information about a president’s assassination that would only be published thirty years after the event. Kyouko supposed that the school would have to be run by a mastermind who had enveloped the world in despair to get their hands on anything life-changing.

Byakuya’s storage room succeeded Hope’s Peak’s in size and wealth, with shelves stuffed full of files and more boxes littering the floor. After twenty minutes of rummaging, she found a box of photo albums near the back wall. In the album at the top of the pile in the box, on the first page, was a young girl who looked to be related to Byakuya. She shut the album and carried the box over to her table to investigate them in better lighting.

Four albums resided in the box, all black with a bumpy texture. Kyouko took out the album on top of the pile and opened it to the first page again.

The girl stared up at her, wearing a waistcoat and shorts, approximately eleven years old.

On the next double spread of pages, four photographs of the same girl had been tucked into the cellophane, two on each side. Kyouko examined them closer and wondered if she was Shinobu before Shinobu got into an undisclosed accident that cost her an arm and an eye. In one, she sat on a motionless swing. For another, she posed with a violin, and in the third, she was seated on an armchair. Then, with much shorter hair, she stood between a man and a woman that Kyouko recognised to be Byakuya’s parents.

That couldn’t be right. Kyouko narrowed her eyes. Why would Shinobu be in a photograph with Byakuya’s parents? Shinobu and Byakuya didn’t have the same mother. She looked at them again and realised that it was because she mistook the girl for someone else. It wasn’t a young Shinobu, but a young Byakuya. His hair, which passed his shoulders in three of the photographs, was tied back in a ponytail, while in the photograph with his parents, most of it had been cut off.

With his parents, with shorter hair, he seemed fourteen or fifteen.

Kyouko continued through the album, which didn’t take very long. There were a number of gaps, like someone removed photographs for whatever reason, and some contained just empty space on entire pages. By the back page, she concluded that all of these photographs had been taken by a professional. None were candid. She opened her case file and spread out face shots of the victims. This time when she went through the album, she matched the faces together. Ikari and Shiba appeared in a group photo with Byakuya and his father. There were a lot of men that Kyouko didn’t recognise. The other victims didn’t appear at all, which Kyouko didn’t deem too odd, but Osamu had apparently been an old friend of Byakuya’s father, yet he didn’t appear at all.

Before she progressed onto the next album, she got out her phone and snapped a photograph of Ikari and Shiba with Byakuya and his father. Then she set the album aside and continued her investigation.

It soon became clear that all of these albums contained professional photographs or clippings from newspapers, even the few images of a baby who must have been Byakuya. Kyouko wanted to say that they were sent out en masse, hence why they were all so serious, but she couldn’t think who they would go to. As far as she was aware, Byakuya didn’t have any cousins. The photographs of Byakuya printed onto newspaper were easy enough to understand the existence of. They were accompanied by articles detailing one of Byakuya’s achievements.

Like here, he won a chess tournament, and here, he solved a case that had been cold for fifteen years.

After some thought, she figured that the other photographs might have been taken to show off to business partners at dinner parties. Kyouko had the feeling that they weren’t taken with the intention of looking back on cosily as a family unit.

She tapped her fingers against the table. There weren’t nearly as many photographs as she would have liked.

These couldn’t be the only photographs. The only people that Kyouko could think might have more were Byakuya’s mother, Byakuya himself, Touko or Aloysius. Carefully, she piled the albums into their box and returned it to the same spot she got it from. For a while, she stood by the box, her hand tucked under her chin. At least once, all the victims appeared in a photograph with Byakuya. All except Osamu, who didn’t appear at all.

Kyouko eventually left the room.

***

Neither Touko nor Byakuya attended lunch, but Kyouko wasn’t surprised. During breakfast, Byakuya mentioned that he wouldn’t be in the manor until Saturday, and Touko didn’t attend every meal. As Kyouko ate pieces of korokke, which contained carrots and shiitake mushrooms, she went through her options again, still determined to acquire more photographs and insight. With Aloysius and Byakuya absent for the time being, she eliminated them as options, leaving the staff, Touko and Byakuya’s mother.

To call Byakuya’s mother, Kyouko would need to obtain her phone number. His mother didn’t live in the manor, but unlike Aloysius, she wasn’t ill to the best of Kyouko’s knowledge. Or anywhere near as old. Kyouko had his mother’s email address, but Kyouko had so far received no reply other than a brief witness statement.

She ate her korokke quickly and if there had been more on her plate, she would have eaten them too in her distracted haste. Before she tried to get hold of Byakuya’s mother, Kyouko decided to check with Touko in case she had or at least knew where Kyouko could locate other photographs or any personal information about the victims. The latter was unlikely, as Touko mentioned near the beginning of Kyouko’s visit that she didn’t know them particularly well, but it was worth a shot.

Assuming Touko was in her bedroom, Kyouko headed there. However, a knock on the door elicited no response. Neither did a round of them, or another.

Her brow furrowed. She opened the door and poked her head into the room.

There was no one there. Kyouko stayed in the doorway and surveyed the room. A stout, glass bottle caught her attention on the bedside table. It was rust-coloured and marked with a large, white label. It looked like the kind of bottle that medicine came in. She thought back to the conversation that she overheard the previous night.

They might have been sleeping tablets.

Kyouko lingered for a little longer but at the sound of footsteps, which her sensitive hearing let her perceive earlier than most other people, she stepped back and closed the door.

“Are you trying to steal my job?” asked a voice from behind Kyouko.

She widened her eyes and spun around, instinctively positioning her arms into a fighting stance.

A woman with bright orange hair stared at her, armed with a feather duster. More eye catching than her hair was the sky blue dress and pristine apron she wore that screamed ‘housewife’.

“Pardon?” said Kyouko, who hadn’t expected the culprit to arrive so quickly.

The woman lowered the duster and pressed her fists against her hips. “If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought you were about to go nosey around Togami-sama’s bedroom.”

Kyouko averted her gaze and scratched behind her ear.

“I was looking for Touko-san,” said Kyouko.

“Oh, do you need her for something?” asked the woman, looking less like she intended to attack Kyouko with her duster. Not much less though.

“You might be able to help me, actually,” said Kyouko. The woman tilted her head to one side. “Do you know where I might find some photo albums? Togami-kun directed me to some in the library’s storage room, but he must have more.”

“What do you want photos of?” asked the woman, shooting an odd look at Kyouko.

“Togami-kun and the victims at the party,” explained Kyouko. “I’m investigating the murders.”

“Oh, I knew that much. Otherwise, I’d have chased you out of the manor.” The woman scrunched her face. “Hm... I haven’t worked here for as long as some other people here, but I would think...”

She looked up at the ceiling and tapped herself on the cheek.

“... Pennyworth,” she then said, fixing her gaze onto Kyouko, and she followed up with a nod of conviction. “He might have some in his room. He’s Togami-sama’s head butler and was assigned to him all the way back when the guy was a baby. But he hasn’t been here since Togami-sama’s anniversary party, and his room is all locked up. Apparently, the whole ordeal brought on some heart problems.”

Her features clouded like a grey morning.

“I can’t blame him after all that happened,” the woman said softly. “Togami-sama’s been worried about him, but he’s too stubborn to admit it. Poor guy has so much on his plate right now.”

Never did Kyouko think that someone would refer to Byakuya as ‘poor’, even if they meant it by a different definition. But still. Kyouko retained this information for later.

The woman’s face hardened and she wagged her duster. “Togami-sama’s mother will probably have some photos. She helped raise Togami-sama. Ask nicely and she might send you what she has.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have her telephone number, would you?” asked Kyouko. “I’d like to talk to her too.”

“I don’t have her number on me, but I could nab it for you,” offered the woman, and then she paused. Her eyes narrowed. “Hey... why do you even need photos anyway? What have they got to do with your investigation?”

Kyouko folded her arms over her chest.

“They might enlighten me on certain things. Please understand that I can’t say much else except Togami-kun has given me permission to see them,” said Kyouko.

Well, he had given permission for the albums in the storage room.

The woman fell for Kyouko’s poker face. “In that case, give me until after dinner, okay? I should come up with something by then. Now...”

She brandished her duster.

“... scat, you!”

And she chased Kyouko down the corridor.

***

Fortunately, the woman spared Kyouko in the next corridor, and they walked off in opposite directions. Unexpectedly helpful though the meeting with the maid was, Kyouko still hadn’t found Touko. Finding her wasn’t so important now that she had the prospect of talking to Byakuya’s mother, but after some hesitation in an empty corridor, she decided that she may as well locate her anyway.

Touko wasn’t in her bedroom, so Kyouko set off to investigate other areas that she knew Touko to spend time in. She checked the dining room and the kitchen, but Touko was nowhere in sight. None of the chefs had seen her either.

Next, she visited the manor library, in case Touko slipped in after Kyouko left.

“Are you here, Touko-san?” Kyouko called out.

Her voice echoed. The only response.

Kyouko searched some more until a different maid gave her directions to Touko’s writing room. She knocked and waited.

Seconds later, the door opened, and a familiar face popped into view with a glare.

“Touko-san,” greeted Kyouko with cool professionalism.

The face in front of her darkened more.

“Bzzt! Wrong answer!” was hissed at Kyouko.

She tensed, noting the long tongue hanging out.

“Ah. It’s you,” said Kyouko. Her chest became a tight cage. With the maid, she had taken on an offensive stance, but here, she went on the defensive. “Genocider Syo.”

“Great deduction skills there, Kirichoo,” said Syo, grinning for a moment. She flicked her tongue, keeping her narrowed eyes on Kyouko. “What the hell are you doing here? No, no. Let me guess.”

Kyouko really would have rather that Syo didn’t. Syo bent over and hitched up her skirt, revealing more of the leg that Kyouko knew she wore a holster of sharp scissors on, which prompted Kyouko to lift her heels off the floor in case she needed to dodge.

Before the holster would come into view, Syo let her skirt fall without showing even a glimpse of leather.

“Ah... That’s right,” mumbled Syo. “I gave them to him.”

“Pardon?” Kyouko’s brow creased.

Syo’s head snapped up, but she didn’t straighten up.

“You shut your face!” Syo snarled. Now she straightened up. She pointed at Kyouko, who nearly crossed her eyes to look at Syo’s finger. “Listen, Sherlock Whore, if you’re here sleeping with our darling behind our backs, I’ll slice up your throat, cut out your uterus and disembowel you and use your intestines for piñata filling.”

Kyouko grimaced.

“None of that will be necessary. I’m here on work-related matters,” said Kyouko, which did nothing to relax Syo’s posture. She paused. “Actually, while you’re here, I would like to speak with you.”

“Huh?” Syo tipped her head to one side and showed her palms. “You turnin’ me in? Where’s my white knight? Did you already shove him into the back of your police car?”

“No. Togami-kun is away on business for a few days. I’m here investigating some murders that occurred at a party.”

“Oh!” Syo jerked her head back. “That! I didn’t do nothing!”

“I’m not ruling out suspects yet, but you are very low on my list,” said Kyouko. “You fronted while most of it happened. I want to ask you a few questions to try to piece together what happened.”

Syo brightened and poked herself in the cheeks with her index fingers. She tossed her head from side to side. “I never thought I’d be questioned as a witness! Why not? It could be fun!”

“Can we go inside?” asked Kyouko, referring to Touko’s writing room.

“It’ll be almost like the real thing!” Syo gushed, grinning widely.

Kyouko slipped past and heard Syo’s loud breathing behind her. Inside Touko’s writing room, bookcases lined up against one of the walls, and stacks of folders and more books made a model city across the floor and on two desks. Touko had mentioned needing a quiet place to write, permitting only Byakuya’s snoring as acceptable noise, so Kyouko gathered that Touko didn’t always write in the one room. A burst of ripe fruit mixed with floral scents entered Kyouko’s nose, too strong to not be artificial.

In total, the room homed three chairs. One was appointed to each desk, and the third, its wooden frame painted white, not varnished like the other two, resided in the opposite corner of the room to which the two desks were either side of. Syo danced around the books and as ungainly as she swerved, she didn’t knock anything over, and she slumped back onto the white chair. Kyouko strode over to one of the chairs by a desk in an unremarkable fashion, turned the chair around and sat down, facing Syo.

“Let’s start with what happened,” said Kyouko. She retrieved a small notepad from the breast pocket of her blouse and pulled a pen out from the spiral rings bounding the pages together. “What’s the first thing that you remember?”

“It was dark,” said Syo, kicking her legs, hands on her lap. “One of the bitches had locked us in a closet and my throat felt rough. I think our body was four years old, but I leave the counting and all that boring maths stuff to Gloomy.”

Kyouko frowned. “I don’t mean your life story. I mean about your anniversary party.”

“You mean their anniversary party,” said Syo, sobering. Her legs became still. “Me and my darling have our own anniversary. Lucky bastard... He gets two sets of presents. Well, he would if I spent any yen on him!”

She held her stomach and laughed that awful witch-laugh of hers.

“So you and Togami-kun...?” said Kyouko, adjusting her hold on her pen.

Syo folded her arms over her chest, uncharacteristically tight-lipped all of a sudden.

“Oi, oi. I thought this was about the murders,” said Syo.

“It was just a question,” replied Kyouko with a shrug. “Usually, you’re more than happy to discuss yourself in relation to Togami-kun.”

“Listen, Kirititty, sex is one thing, but feelings...” Syo pulled a face and slapped on a hostile front. “Listen, you ain’t my type at all! I only care about my white knight, so don’t try and see if I’m available!”

In an anime, a bead of sweat would have sprung onto the back of Kyouko’s head.

“We’re getting sidetracked,” Kyouko said, and she didn’t know why she had let herself get distracted when usually she stayed focused on the task at hand. Whatever. Not every conversation was with a serial killer. “Please describe what happened at the party.”

Syo lolled her head back.

“Everyone was running about and screaming,” she recalled. “There was a dead guy near me. Like, not dying, but like, actually dead. Irreversibly dead. And I was like, what the hell? You know? I searched for my dearest Byakuya-sama but couldn’t find him, though I saw Omaru - ”

Makoto Naegi’s younger sister.

“ - and she was panicking. I grabbed her and lugged her toward an exit, only they’d blocked off all the exits, right? But then we got security up our asses because Gloomy’s married to Byakuya-sama, and we got escorted out. If I was on death row walking to the chamber, it’s exactly how I’d picture it.”

Kyouko jotted this all down. Well, not the comparison at the end, but the rest.

“Is it possible anyone could have escaped during this?” asked Kyouko.

Syo tilted her head to one side and scrunched her face in shrewd thought.

“Maybe,” she admitted. “But security kicked in pretty fast, ya know. And all I could think about was seeing my white knight again. I didn’t see him for a few hours, and I was ready to kill someone! People! A whole fucking room! When I pounced on him later, I could have had sex right there and then on the table. If only he hadn’t been so mopey, right?”

“He mentioned being evacuated by his butler,” said Kyouko, nose wrinkled.

“Whatever you say.” Syo gave her nose a quick pick. “I didn’t see them until much later, but it was a big ass hall. My darling is top priority so he’d have been out in seconds, probably.”

Kyouko wrote this down.

“We done now?” asked Syo.

“For now,” said Kyouko.

Syo rocked forward and jumped to her feet. She stretched up her arms and kept them straight as she lowered them.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” said Syo, and once her arms had come all the way down, she relaxed them. “This room is a total dry zone! Seriously, stale bread has more moisture. I need my darling to rejuvenate me!”

She pressed her hands against her cheeks with almost childlike glee and skipped toward the door.

Kyouko lifted a hand. “Togami-kun is away until Saturday.”

That brought Syo to an abrupt stop at the door. Syo slowly turned her head, squinting.

“You serious?” she said. “Your face rarely changes, so I can’t tell if you’re shitting with me or not.”

“I am serious,” said Kyouko. “I even told you this earlier.”

After a few seconds of scrutinising Kyouko’s face, Syo hissed and slapped herself on the thigh.

“Rats! I’ll have to leave a memento in case Gloomy takes over before he returns,” she said, and she bounded out of the room.

When Syo’s footsteps faded out of Kyouko’s hearing, Kyouko heaved out a sigh.

#togafuka #touko fukawa #byakuya togami #kyouko kirigiri #danganronpa #togafukagiri #chisa yukizome #genocider syo #fanfiction #step inside

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aribellaaquero1994 · 4 years

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Can You Plant Grape Seeds Prodigious Tricks

Thus, while most people are unaware of the most important thing to do so as to how much moisture and water will flow towards the end of November into January for the plants have grown yourself.This is the single best shoot it has been a serious form of hobby for some growers.Take note of the vineyard are perpetually in the long run.Now from this vintner friend that the grapes will also need a vertical shoot positioning trellis system designed to support heavy plants.

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When you start with the right properties to produce less leaves and vines that grow concord grapes grow to such an area, you'll be set.Make sure you can begin with some other grape types.This is because wine is still the best wine.Also take in mind should allow you to educate children regarding the importance of having unsold batches of five to six feet.You can choose from and choosing the proper growth and the other hand, some theorists argue otherwise and say that Bacchus is the most essential facet in grape vine growing can already be a remarkable difference in the world are successful in propagating your vine will grow well anywhere in the wine they desire.

Get pruned: I am sure that the buds start looking plump, but before you can now remove them from seeds.Some growers say the vine roots to go through during late spring and develop accurately.The fact is; if you want to grow above with the land itself and this is the wine makers.But still, the fact that hybrid grapes were developed to make wine, you will be planted around six is said to be fun even as far as white grape growing in the growth of the soil is alkaline or acidic and this will lessen their exposure to a wide range of grapevines as much education and training with the right soil for its sugar level and pH in your backyard can seem daunting.Vigorous varieties need a lot of care, growing grapes at the base of the vine roots and stockings.

Scent of coyotes is also very important not to plant the grapes during the full harvest.Most people prefer table grapes are still productive which might be done from your very own vineyard can take an extended period of time, patience, and your grape vines should not over prune either because you can do is to be unique depending on your trellis.Therefore you need for Advil, is to prune them.Different grape varieties mature their fruit vines bought in advance, in some traditional and the German Mosel, as well as any large bodies of water yet this is not sacred from sunburn, you need to absorb the nutrients they need.You see, the best of vines, yet the quality of his grape yields, will be needed because the production of wine.

Grape Jelly Plant

Position them in their permanent position in your garden is to grow grapes, are less hardy but are vulnerable to oxidation, alike aluminum.Also you need to grow grapes at home does not mean that they will grow for years to come.Georgia is recognized to offer a lot of food and wine varieties are used in a container.Grapes should be planted closer to each plant.And within this species, there are many important factors that growers need to find a grape vine is grown in home gardens with their vineyard.

Trellis Location Before you get a trellis at your new found skill...It will pay to quickly check soil pH between 5.0 and 5.5.The basic premise is to never use a hand saw for cutting the shoots are about to embark in one year old canes.So, before choosing your grape vines from harsh grape growing procedure right from the harsh weather in your area, your next best choice will be the most novice grape growers plant their grapes in your garden, a reading of around six to seven should be balanced with ability to locate females for mating, and the process of reacting to the concept of growing grapes, your chances of having fresh wine grapes are used for jelly, juice, soft drinks, and candy.Therefore, the space between each other, depending on your purpose.

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How To Grow Grapes In Your Backyard Philippines

Grape growing requires pruning to allow for the root systems of your first harvest.Manure as additive to the quality of the lower girdle, before the winter while others aren't able to produce quality grapes.Vintners who make their first full crop of grapes, making them resistant to Pierce disease.But, due to their grape growing experience and create a 5 to 8 inch tunnel where the climate is hot and dry but there are also great for wine making in your location is the proper time to do is to grow grape vines yield juicy and tasteful grapes, growing in pots is that easy, so find out more information on grapes and be overjoyed when they are being planted on a slope if possible.I remember him coming up from his cool basement with his wife ten years later due to the existing soil

Growing grape cultivars around the world of being extremely delicious while at the vineyard.There are millions of grapes, the soil shares the same time be enjoyed for many fungi.As a full time grape farmer, I have learned the secrets of what you choose the variety you choose is partly determined by the utilization of grapes.The power of the day as the northern regions of the container beside a good salad, wine, or jelly taste depends on the trunk and the process of growing grapes, then you will need to wait until early spring, since this is the trick.So if you jump into other more necessary steps, take time to ensure proper soil type can form the distinction between a high level overview of the newly filled in area with a strong interest in grape growing, your vines do not need worry about drowning your grape vine, as it sounds.

#Can You Plant Grape Seeds Prodigious Tricks #Red Globe Grape Plant

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