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lovely-oh-so-lovelyyui · 2 years

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Pov: Shu sakamaki the absent father

tw: domestic @buse and su1cide

Being someone’s father does not make you their dad.

Simply put: narcissistic, selfish, disinterested, unreliable, “the world is tough, get over it”

He’s an overgrown manchild, downright despicable, you grow up always on your father’s side till you realise your mother’s frustration and quick-fire temper came from a useless man who contributes nothing to your family.

Yeah sure, he has money but that’s about it.

So what if he had sex with a couple of other people when your mother was pregnant? Men have needs. Okay, and he fell asleep when she was in labour? He had a long night.

And sometimes women who aren’t your mother walk out of their room, but that’s not your business.

He’s attentive when you’re a toddler, there are pictures of him sitting next to you on your birthdays, or sitting next to you on the park bench, hey there are even of him sleeping beside you.

He buys your mom flowers sometimes, she cuts them up and puts them in vases.

It stops the older you get, you get a handshake for being the smartest in your class, I don’t think he quite realises when he had kids they would grow up with their interests, bet he thought you would remain 7 forever.

Doesn’t remember anniversaries, birthdays and special occasions. You once jokingly ask him when your birthday is. He didn’t even hesitate… to tell you the wrong date.

For as long as you can remember his cold gaze, glazed over blue watching you and everyone around him, listening to his footsteps, memorising his breathing patterns while he sleeps so can tell the difference between bad days and good days.

Don’t talk too much, you wouldn’t want to become troublesome for him.

Fragile ego making “ jokes” about your mother, it’s lucky you look like him after all she looks like a tramp (everyone laughs at the dinner table you know he sulks easy), perhaps she gained weight ( everyone starts hiding snacks in their room after all your mom’s ed started from him), he paints a picture a really lovely one actually.

I’ll set it up for you

There’s a girl, she’s not really interesting, beautiful or smart; and fate screws her over, you see, getting delivered to 5 horrible monsters who constantly taunt and tyrannise her. She meets a man, who doesn’t really care at first but she works hard to ‘gain’ his affection and he saves her. It’s a pretty house in the countryside, she has 2-3 kids (doesn’t matter if she wanted them, I mean he’s given her everything, is it so bad that he wants to be a father, okay she doesn’t have any friends and the isolation is a bit much some days ( why would she need anyone other than her husband? What kind of shameless, lewd woman is she trying to show her kids, my god? Also, she has chores to do, he doesn’t wanna live in a dumpster. And cooking? Yeah, vampires don’t need food but he wants those family dinners? She knows what his childhood was like, all silent and cold. Is it so bad that he wants to sit down to a homemade meal three times a day with his wife and kid (who cares if everyone waits for him to wake up as the food gets cold, he’s the head of this family? He puts the bread on the table?)

Makes crude jokes about your mother, bet you wonder why the master bedroom is soundproof.? He knows first-hand that children are a bit squeamish, but he knows what’s best for your mother, I mean pain or pleasure, she likes it. She’s just that type of woman.

You pretend not to see the scars, the bandages, or the way her hands shake in exhaustion. She tried delegating chores around the house, but your father overlooked that too.

After all, you should be grateful to him, women are unpredictable and overly emotional, and he doesn’t want to burden your childhood with chores you should focus on having fun, mothers are meant to be able to take care of everything. His mother did.

The constant joke of what if he killed himself ya know after all your mother is so much baggage, or maybe even better what is her marries another woman, prettier, younger, more useful, who nags less I bet you’d like that better than your actual mother ( you all looked at her apologetically, weakly laughing at his jokes).

You stay in your room a lot, listening to the shell of a mother cluttering around waiting like a flower to bloom under the sun till your father walks in.

You listen to his footsteps, bated breaths, he makes your mother laugh, today must be a good day. You hurriedly run downstairs. You don’t want to ruin the mood. You greet him, he pulls you into his arms kissing the top of your head, and you try not to cry. You ask him about his day, he laughs again, he starts talking about some old composer, and you nod along appropriately, laughing at his remarks.

You wait right before dinner, asking him to sign a slip for school he raises his eyebrow, and you hold your breath.

He tells you to get his pen, you finally breathe. You hear him making a joke at your brother about how you are your mother’s daughter always needing to go out, thriving for attention from men, it’s good to loosen the leash on women occasionally otherwise they forget how many other great bitches are out there and start slacking. Your brother laughs merrily, you watch your father’s eyes glaze over imagining himself with the freedom your brother has, making jokes like this with his father, in a pretty house where his mother is warm and motherly.

You ignore the stinging pain in your gut as you retrieve the signed slip, your family settling down for dinner, and he remarks maybe he should hire a cook since your mother obviously forgot how to season the food (you think it tastes fine), he asks about your day, you try to keep it short but interesting regardless his eyes glaze over again already bored as you barely finish with an awkward chuckle. It hurts how it takes him a moment to realise you stopped talking, he repeats this action with everyone out of courtesy then talks about his day. No one dares interrupt.

Some days he bangs the door shut, coming home from work. You freeze, he is far too early today, dinner isn’t ready, your mom hasn’t finished cleaning you worry. You’re wearing shorts if he walks into the living room you’re going to have to hear about how he raised a whore of a daughter.

He storms towards you, thundering asking why your bag was on the porch, you apologise he doesn’t care it’s too late he might’ve tripped on it, also what are you wearing does he not give you enough money to buy appropriate clothes?

Your mother tries to appease him, telling him there’s steak tonight, he says not to worry and storms out again for a walk around the block. He’s gone for 4 days, your mother is hysterical with worry if he’s okay and if this time is finally when he abandons you. You hope not, the longest he left was 7 months you’re still haunted by the dead look in your mother’s eyes.

One day she just walks out, and you hear the door open and close, and it isn’t till your father comes home and asks where she is you think something is wrong. She never ever missed greeting him when he came home.

They find her body at the bottom of the cliffs an hour away; she kills herself. The way your father cried you would think it actually hurt him, he tells you your laugh is disgusting it’s just like hers. You laugh in his face. He finally leaves, just packs up and leaves, your brother begs him not to, and you smile and wave, egging him on he doesn’t look back once.

You see him a year later at some gathering your grandpa throws, he has another woman on his arm they often switch to a new one every week. Finally, he meets the woman, you pity her at their wedding when you realise she looks at your father just like your mother did. You suppose your older half-siblings do too, except instead of you watching them walking out as they did at your mother’s wedding, you walk out with them.

#Spotify #diabolik lovers headcanon #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers headcanons #diaboys #shu sakamaki #tw

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alligatorjesie · 2 years

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You’re the kind of sicko who wants to fuck the Columbine shooters, aren’t you? You really can’t help but see the worst most violent and abusive and scary men ever and imminently run to defend everything they’ve ever done. Never mind that they killed people. Their victims lives don’t matter! Not to you!! Once a nazifucker, always a nazifucker, and if you fuck them you’re one of them, and the only good nazi is a dead one. Kill yourself or I’ll kill you MYself, cuntrag

Oh man. What is that smell? It’s fucking horrible. Like a… frat boy threw up on a dead raccoon on the side of the road two weeks into July. @somethingscarlet13, is that fucking you? Knew I smelled that stench before. Bitch you hardly leave your computer desk, what the flying fuck are you going to do? Your arms have to be in full entropy from you only using your fingers to scroll tumblr and type out death threats, I’m not sure you could hold a weapon let alone use it. Maybe you could rub your unwashed troll pits all over me? That would be kinda gross, but would require you to leave your fucking house which you can’t seem to get enough go to do anything about the sister who you've made posts about wanting to drop dead, I’m probably pretty safe from you. So let's dig in shall we? I got some rancid meat to roast.

We’re gonna ignore all the Nazi shit because we have established long fucking ago that Ben isn’t a fucking Nazi here. It’s Hux if there was one. I know this because of this scene:

In saying that, there are technically no nazis in Star Wars as that is not an ideology anyone in these movies can have because there’s not jewish people in which to be fucking antisemitic to. Ben don’t really have a scene like this. In fact Ben came to Snoke originally not because he desired world domination but because he’s pretty sure his uncle just tried to kill him and knew Snoke well enough to consider that a good place to hide out at for a little bit. You know. From his uncle. Who he thinks just tried to kill him.

It’s all in this comic, not that you’ll fuckin’ read it.

Ben didn't even blow up the fucking temple. He crawls out of the rubble of his own hut after the whole Luke and his horribly timed moment of self reflection thing and it is only after he attempt to wake up the other students THEN the temple blows up. The boy didn't have jack shit to do with it. I'm telling you this because I know you wont read this comic and it sounds like you could use some fucking cliff notes.

It's very rich being told by someone who seems to deeply sympathize with Anakin, a character we do actually witness kill women and children, no even in wartime.

and then children in his own cult because a old fuck told him if he did that he could help Anakin cheat death.

And maybe his wife? A little bit? I mean he did have a hand in it.

But thinks Ben is just nonredeemable evil because he killed some enemies of war during wartime. I don’t think even outside of the movie material like in the comic and novelizations do we see Ben kill anyone who wasn’t apart of the war and enemies to the faction he was a part of.

I’ve never thought to sit down and do an actual fucking body count on these 2 characters but we fucking can if you want. Off the top of my head I’m pretty fucking sure Anakin has a way fucking higher ‘noncombat of war’ kill count vs Ben with just the sand people alone. That was an entire town he kill. Not even mentioning the jedi younglings he fucking slaughtered. At lest this town in The Force Awakens didn’t have any fucking kids in it because it's a Resistance town.

Yeah, that town at the beginning of The Force Awakens? That was filled with Resistance members. It’s a Resistance town. Says so in the audiobook. Were you ever fucking curious as to why everyone here was ready to throw down the fucking second the First Order showed up?

This place? Maz's temple? They said out loud they tracked Finn here, an AWOL solider they're actively looking for. Maz, who we can all be assured does not have a history of aligning with the Empire or the First Order.

This entire solar system?

Oops! That wasn’t Ben.

Hux and Snoke organized that one.

I figured this out when it was spoken out loud by Snoke in the movie, Not once but fucking twice:

As seen here by Snoke telling HUX to prepare the weapon and not sending BEN off to fucking do that instead.

And the second time:

Ben is literally tasked with Rey and is entirely uninvolved in all this bullshit.

I’m sympathetic to the character of Ben Solo because that’s kinda the point of these fucking movies. Even The Rise of Skywalker, fucking incoherent shit show that it was, couldn’t ignore the fact that the character of Ben Solo was always meant to be redeemed. As if it wasn’t telegraphed loudly enough by making him the emotionally damaged son of two characters who want their son back since they fucking say it enough, Leia Organa and Han Solo.

Not even halfway through the movie we have a whole interaction with this character that is him questioning his own faith.

Fuck, he stabs Han and Immediately has some pretty fucking intense feelings of regret.

so intense his own mother reacts to his grief.

This isn't Leia getting punched in the empathy so fucking hard she has to sit down from Han dying. Han died with peace, knowing his death would be the thing that finally brings their son home. This is Leia reacting to the pain that Ben is feeling in this moment.

Adam Driver and Carrie Fisher didn’t put their entire fucking badoosy into these genuine expressions of grief for you to sit there and misunderstand the basic structure of these character’s motivations.

And while I hate fucking saying this because I would absolutely love to spend hours explaining to you in graphic fucking detail how much further Ben's character progresses to the Light Side is throughout this movie, we’re just gonna fucking ignore The Last Jedi for this chat because I still have your mom and dad to fuck and plants to water. Assured that you’ve stopped reading beyond this point already as I am.

Listen, I get it you don’t like the character of Ben Solo/Kylo Ren but making a keystone of your fucking personality hating them through some real fucking obvious personal choices to disregard whole sections of the source material then going into tags you don’t fucking belong in to harass the people who do like that character isn’t winning you any fucking internet points mate.

But this Anon that is obviously @somethingscarlet13 has sparked an idea in me.

We’re gonna play a fun game that is every time I get a death threat from an Anti all because I like a fictional canon ship I’m going to add another tally to this banner and then I’m going to display this banner as my header! So everyone who comes here can see for themselves what kind of horseshit people like you are.

Don’t like reylo? That’s fucking fine, stay the fuck out of the tag. And for the love of fuck stop telling people you’re going to kill them for shipping. It’s fucking wild that it even needs said to you. Next you're gonna tell me you'd kill people for shipping Catradora, the literal cornerstone relationship of that entire series.

Oh FuCKiNG CHRIST

#Anti talk #reylo #Hey lets do some unintentional character studies to sate the bloodlust of the sadistic fuck who would rather send me death threats #than consider for one fucking second maybe they misunderstand the character and fandom they've been shitting on for the last 8 years.#Sorta catreadora by proxy since this absolute ass gremlin can't seem to fucking understand character development

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demonslayedher · 3 years

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How Does Eating Humans Work?

Hello, Gotou here. We’re shamelessly borrowing from the format of a KnY Fanbook #2 comic to launch an investigation into demon metabolism and development by crossing the Sanzu River again to interview demons in the underworld. While we’ll be using canon materials as a base, the analysis and conjecture herein is personal, so we ask for your understanding. Also, please note that consuming any food in the underworld will make you unable to return, and we cannot promise your safety even though the interview subjects are dead, so please come along at your own risk.

Some of the questions we’d like to answer are, why do demons need to eat humans? How much do they need to eat to survive? Are there factors that influence how eating humans makes them stronger? If they don’t want to kill humans, what are their other options? We’ve rounded up some special guests below the cut (hidden for length and grossness), everyone from the lowly Temple Demon to the lovely Tamayo, to see what their actions in canon might tell us.

First, a review of what canon tells us, mostly as summarized in Fanbook #2: 1. With one exception named Yushirou, all demons were created by Kibutsuji Muzan, for his own purposes. They all have some amount of his blood, and can be divided into four classes depending on how powerful they are. From top to bottom, the Upper Moons, the Lower Moons, demons with special abilities, and other demons without any special characteristics. 2. Demons may be stronger depending on how much of Kibutsuji Muzan’s blood they have. Most beings’ cannot handle a large amount of his blood, and it will rupture the cells and that being will die, but there are demons who adapt well to it. 3. Typically, sunlight is the only way to kill a demon, by either bathing them in sunlight or cutting of their head with a Nichirin blade. However, there are powerful demons for whom chopping off their head does not work, and if it’s strong enough, demons can also be killed by wisteria poison.

4. Demons eat human blood and flesh. The more they eat, the stronger they become, and the faster their regenerative abilities become. Some humans have “Marechi,” a rare blood type, which is especially nutritious to demons, and eating one Marechi is the equivalent of eating several humans.

That’s an interesting thing we’d like to come back to, especially since we’re looking for quantitative information about how demons gain nutrition (though I have my doubts we'll get enough for statistical analysis). As an interesting note, Fanbook #2 also tells us that if demons try to consume the same edibles humans do, they’ll vomit it back up.

I’m told that Miss Tamayo drinks tea, though. That’ll be an interesting question for later. In my notes, it seems she’s also explained to Tanjirou back in Chapter 15 that demons will normally go berserk if they go a long time without consuming any blood or flesh. Berserk is one thing, but I wonder if they can starve to death? We’ll see if these canon clues will lead us to anything. We’ll begin now in an interview format. Hopefully this will go smoothly, but I’ve got a feeling it won’t. First up, we’ve the Temple Demon.

Temple: Who were you calling ‘lowly’ just now? Up there, above the cut?

Gotou: That was in a literal sense, not having Blood Techniques means you’re in the bottom common tier of demons.

Temple: Argh. Fine. What do you want to know?

Gotou: In Chapter 2, you were spotted with three human victims. However, it seems you left their bodies mostly intact and only ate small parts instead of consuming one full human at a time. Could you comment on this?

Temple: I’d have gotten to more later if that whelp with the strong legs didn’t interrupt me! Who’s got time to eat entire humans anyway? I went for the easy stuff first.

Gotou: I see. It appears you might had focused on key organs, like the heart and the liver. Would you say these are especially nutritionally dense?

Temple: I guess. If I’m going to eat humans, I’m going to start with what’s worth bothering to digest. Blood’s easier on the stomach, so that’s what I was busy with on the lady there.

Gotou: Then it takes effort to digest? Hmm. Let’s come back to this later. How many humans would you say you consumed, including these three?

Temple: Not a lot… I tried to get a variety so I could get stronger faster, but…

Gotou: I’ll put down a guess as ten or less. Let’s move on to someone who has a sharper memory for numbers. One of our longer-lived guests at Mt. Fujikasane for 47 years, the Hand Demon. While most of the demons on the mountain had only eaten two or three humans, you’ve eaten a whole 50 of the children who headed into the Final Selection, didn’t you?

Hand: Yes, that’s right. It was hard at first since I wasn’t very strong, and the demons usually all went crazy there eating each other, just like that one brat who got away in Chapter 7 said. If you could manage to kill any of the kids, you had the other demons to fight off to even get a piece to yourself. That was enough to get me by, and stronger, little by little. Your body learns to make your meals last, and make the most of what you can get. I usually only had a bite of one child a year, can you imagine how horrible that was? Most demons who survive usually figure out some way to develop and survive better, and once my cells found something that worked for me, I kept doing it. I got really good at snatching away prey from other demons, and soon enough I was a bigger threat than any of them. None of them could, you might say, lay a hand on me.

Gotou: That’s an interesting point about self-development. A demon named Nezuko was spent two years doing that in her sleep.

Hand: She must have had a big meal before that!

Gotou: Well, anyway. It seems that in near starving conditions, your metabolism made the most of what you had, leading to the most efficient use of whatever food was available to you.

Hand: That’s right, I got really good at it. Wasn’t always pretty, but I made it work. I got to a point where I could go two years without eating and still keep my wits about me while the other demons were going mad. But I chose to eat. I liked to keep my appetite for specific children.

Gotou: That smile is not reassuring. Some humans taste better than others, I guess?

Hand: That’s for sure. This one kid tasted awful, like rust and man sweat! I still don’t have that disgusting taste out of my mouth! But he was one of my more satisfying meals, so I ate more of him.

Gotou: Then why would you… nevermind, I don’t like that smile, no further questions. While I had hoped to keep these interviews focused on quantities of humans consumed, it does seem personal taste is worth asking about. I had tried to invite a Swamp Demon from Chapter 11, but it kept arguing with itself and it felt like I’d be wasting my time. The one definite thing I learned was that this demon is picky, with a distinct preference for 16-year-old girls. Based on the number of trinkets he kept, it seems he had consumed at least seventeen of them, including several in one town. Sheesh, that’s sort of a rough mission to send a first-timer on. I’ve got a more cooperative guest here to discuss her tastes, a Snake Demon who, according to Chapter 188, has a special taste for baby flesh.

Snake: Thank you for having me here. It’s good to be appreciated again.

Gotou: Did you only eat babies?

Snake: Goodness, no. Babies are delicious, but they aren’t very nutritious. And their skulls certainly aren’t that big, the ones I lounged around with were from the people whom I killed and stole from. But you know the nice thing about baby skulls? They’re still soft. They take a long time to digest, but I can swallow them whole.

Gotou: Like… like a snake, then. Sorry, I’m a little ill hearing that. Let’s back up, were all those skulls the remains of adults you ate, then?

Snake: Meh, I ate some of them of better-looking ones, but most of them I only killed. I could usually kill a lot more at a time than I could bother eating, my killing record was fifty women all at once.

Gotou: And you didn’t find that wasteful?

Snake: Wasteful? Not at all. I wasn’t exactly in dire straits, I lived a more luxurious life than most demons do. That meant I could afford to wait for a truly delicious meal, like how you humans might leave something in a slow-cooker to enjoy the perfect combination of doneness and tenderness, plated in the most appetizing of ways.

Gotou: I guess demons and humans are similar in that regard.

Snake: I’m so glad you can relate! Then you understand the frustration of a meal you’ve be preparing for years opening up the slow-cooker and running away right when they were just about done.

Gotou: I have never had that experience.

Snake: I’ll get you, my pretty. And your little snake, too.

Gotou: I think we might have gotten a little off-topic here. It does seem digesting humans comes with some difficulty. I’d like to invite the Drum Demon in next. Your name is Kyougai, I hear?

Kyougai: !!

Gotou: Kyogai, right?

Kyougai: You’ve heard of me! You know my name!

Gotou: I happened to, yes.

Kyougai: What have you heard???

Gotou: That you were kicked out of the Lower Moons for being unable to consume enough humans.

Kyougai: Oh. ……..yeah, that’s me.

Gotou: I thought demons go berserk if they go a long time without consuming humans. Wouldn’t that make an inability to consume them problematic?

Kyougai: It wasn’t that I couldn’t eat them! Like I said in Chapter 24, I had to in order to sustain myself, just like any other demon. But, at some point, I couldn’t eat as much as I used to. That happens to humans too, doesn’t it? When you just can’t stomach anymore?

Gotou: You mean like when you’ve overeaten? In a human’s case that feeling may go away within a few hours.

Kyougai: Sort of like that, but you know, humans reach a time when nothing is appetizing or the thought of eating makes them feel sick, right? Isn’t that the human condition?

Gotou: …uh… maybe if they have a medical condition? Or anxiety? Do demons get anxiety? Or eating disorders?

Kyougai: I… I don’t know. I just wasn’t good enough.

Gotou: I think it’s plenty good if you stopped eating humans. Though to have developed Blood Techniques and been a Lower Moon in the first place, you must had eaten a great number of them.

Kyougai: You think I’m great?

Gotou: What?

Kyougai: No, sorry, I was getting ahead of myself. It’s true, I used to be able to eat as many as the other Lower Moons always consumed. Our stomachs were stronger, you might say. Demons got strong by eating humans, and then the more you did that the better you usually got at it, so the strong ones would eat more and more and keep getting stronger and stronger. At least, that’s how it usually worked. I’ve seen other demons below me reached that point too, where they feel the drive to eat, but then they have trouble digesting it for a long time, so they don’t wind up eating that many people.

Gotou: Then it would make sense to eat the most nutritionally dense parts first.

Kyougai: Or a Marechi.

Gotou: Yes, or a Marechi.

Kyougai: It was a great idea, wasn’t it?

Gotou: I cannot condone any consumption of humans as a good idea.

Kyougai: I knew it. I’m nothing. Go ahead, stomp all over everything I ever tried to accomplish.

Gotou: I think I’m going to move on to my next interviewee now. It looks like we’ve got… oh, would you look at this? Lower Moon One. Enmu, I believe.

Enmu: You can believe whatever you want. I’m happy to help.

Gotou: I don’t need any help, thanks. I’m curious, since you were one of the stronger demons out there, it seems you had a stronger capacity for consuming humans.

Enmu: I did, I was always careful and paced myself so the Demon Slayers wouldn’t notice me. I took my time. I liked to enjoy e-e-e-a-c-h one.

Gotou: Then you had tastes too? Like babies, or 16-year-old girls?

Enmu: I could season any human to my liking. They’re all very easy to prepare.

Gotou: I’m still trying to get quantitative data. Can you tell me at least a rough estimate of how many humans you consumed?

Enmu: I told this more precisely to that boy with the earrings back in Chapter 59, and I can tell you this too. At my best, I could had eaten over two-hundred people at once if I took my time.

Gotou: OH MY GAW----sorry, I dropped my pen. Two hundred, at once?

Enmu: Yes. If I had just. Had. A little. More. Time.

Gotou: Clearly there is a huge difference between what common demons are capable of and what the Twelve Moons are capable of.

Daki: Psh, those were all any random common people. That’s nothing to brag about.

Gotou: Excuse me, and you are?

Daki: Daki, Upper Moon Six. You want something really impressive, you talk to the Upper Moons.

Gotou: I’m sorry, I don’t see you on my list.

Daki: What! Your list is stupid. Look me in the eyes, I’m Upper Moon Six!

Gotou: Very well, then. What can you tell me about your diet, Miss Upper Moon Six?

Daki: That’s more like it. It’s true that digestion takes a while, and takes some effort. Even though we Upper Moons may have eaten hundreds of people in our lifetimes, it’s not as if we gorge ourselves. The clever ones among us save prey for later to eat when we feel ready for it.

Gotou: Food storage? How do you keep them fresh?

Daki: You leave them still alive, numbskull. Nobody wants to eat something cold, that’s gross.

Gotou: I see, so that’s why demons prefer to go after new kills instead of saving what they’ve already managed to kill. That also might explain why the demons on Mt. Fujikasane wouldn’t had eaten many humans, if they found long dead ones in edible.

Daki: You want to know the real secret to eating humans? You can eat what you find tastes good, sure. But to get stronger, you eat strong people. Like your Corp members, the ones besides chumps like you? Using all that Breath makes their muscles really lean and potent, it’s like they come offering themselves as protein bars for us.

Gotou: You make them sound like a fad diet…

Daki: The real secret is eating Pillars. Besides Marechi, they’re the strongest meals out there. Guess how many I’ve eaten?

Gotou: I don’t have the data to make an educated guess.

Daki: Then get educated! Look back at Chapter 88! I’ve eaten seven Pillars, and my brother has eaten fifteen!

Gotou: Your brother? Who is he, then, Upper Moon Five?

Daki: What? Ew. Gross. Gross! No way, ew!

Gotou: Hmm… eating Pillars, huh? Well, I can think of one Pillar who was…

Douma: Me too!

Gotou: Speak of the devil.

Douma: Actually, we Upper Moons can! And he's not Satan, that's not how this works. But I guess Muzan-sama’s curse doesn’t effect us now. Ask me anything you want!

Gotou: That Chapter 143 reference was such a rude entrance. I understand that Pillars are particularly nutritious—

Douma: Oh, please don’t misunderstand! I don’t even eat all the Pillars I’ve encountered. There was the one Flower Pillar who got away from me, but some of the boy pillars I just leave around. What’s really the key to consistent nutritional intake is women! It’s really unhealthy for a demon not to get enough women in their diet, that’s why even if you’re only looking for Marechi or Pillars, your metabolism is going to get thrown out of whack with sudden big meals. You grow a stronger metabolism with consistency, I believe!

Gotou: If I could stop you there, I had an image from Chapter 142 I preferred to focus on for this case study. I see you keep a wide collection of skulls, from victims whom I assume you ate.

Douma: Yes, they all stayed together inside me for eternity, but the room looked lonely without décor.

Gotou: It seems other demons usually go for nutritionally dense organs like hearts or livers, or easy to digest parts of the body, perhaps just blood sometimes. Eating the entire victim, bones and all, doesn’t seem to be the norm.

Douma: Bones are organs too, you know! That’s where blood is made, at its freshest. They do take more practice in learning to digest, and I had to find a way around not having to chew them, but the bone marrow is very, very good for you, so I make sure to consume it frequently. It may take more time and it causes some of my followers to panic more while they wait, though, that’s a bit of a downside. Oh, and I guess bones can make good storage for some sneaky poison. Even fingernails and hair follicles, who’d have thought?

Gotou: I don’t think hair would have much nutritional value in the first place. In all my years, I can never recall seeing a victim with their hair eaten.

Douma: Tsk, tsk! Clearly you haven’t done much metabolism research in advance. I was really impressed by how well Shinobu-chan understood how my digestion would work. Eating hair can do amazing things! Isn’t that right, Genya-kun?

Genya: ?????????

Gotou: Genya-kun!?

Genya: What am I doing here?

Gotou: I don’t think you’re supposed to be here. Isn’t there, you know, another side? The other direction?

Genya: What are you doing here? Did you die?

Gotou: I’m here doing research on demon metabolism and how they get stronger by consuming flesh.

Douma: What can you tell us about what up with having your friend feed you hair you found on the floor in Chapters 170-171, Genya-kun?

Genya: I’m not a demon!! Why the hell are you asking me?

Douma: ‘Hell’! Haha, good one!

Gotou: How do you even know about that? You were dead almost a full volume before that. And Genya’s different, he’s not a case study in how demons consuming humans works!

Douma: Are you certain?

Gotou: I hear the term get thrown around a lot that he’s ‘half-demon’, but—

Genya: I’m not a demon!!!

Gotou: --how would that even work? That would imply that one of his parents had to be a demon, and that—

Genya: What did you say about my mother!?!

Gotou: What? Nothing—

Genya: You say that to my face! You just trying saying something about my mother to my face! My mother never actually ate any flesh, you got that? She doesn’t deserve any of this!

Gotou: Genya, calm down, what—

Douma: I see we’re learning nothing about hair at all. Maybe Kokushibou-dono would provide better commentary on that?

Genya: Mom? Mo-o-o-o-m? Are you down here somewhere?

Gotou: And there he goes… wait, did you say Kokushibou? Upper Moon One? Oh no—he—he didn’t want me bothering him, he did not agree to another interview—

Douma: He-e-e-e-e-y, Kokushibou-dono! How did that work with Genya-kun eating your hair? Hair can be nutritious, right?

Kokushibou: You would gain… nothing… from consuming human hair… it’s not… flesh… you wasted your energy digesting it…

Douma: Aww, cutting it off them would had been sad, though.

Kokushibou: Demon hair… like demon weapons… is made… from our unique cells. It’s not dead… like human locks. Because that boy ate my live cells… it affected him…

Gotou: Yes, because he had a very, very unique metabolism, analyzed separately in this post. To be perfectly clear, Genya is completely human with cells that could temporarily transform, and he never consumed human flesh.

Kokushibou: He… vexes me…

Gotou: Um… while I’ve got you here, you’re one of the longest lived demons, clocking in at over three, maybe four centuries. Do you have any estimate of how many humans you’ve consumed?

Kokushibou: ……I see in… Chapter 100… that you are 23 years old?

Gotou: That is correct.

Kokushibou: Do you bother… remembering how many meals… you’ve had in a mere 23 years?

Gotou: I’m very sorry to have bothered you.

Douma: Kokushibou-dono’s ancient compared to the rest of us! But if I tried, I could probably recall. Let’s see. One, two, three, four…

Gotou: Is that? Your finger in your brain? Oh—ohhh—that is disgusting---I really don’t need to know numbers that badly, please stop. Is there maybe just some average you can give me for the Upper Moons instead? Like how many you’d eat in a month?

Douma: I wish I could, but a certain someone was an annoying outlier and didn’t like to eat so many humans. He made me worry all the time about his health.

Gotou: Really? Who might that be?

Douma: Hello-o-o-o-o-? Akaza-dono? Yoohoo! He spends all his time with his wife now and never answers when I call, it makes me so sad. Akaza-dono did eat humans, plenty of strong ones, but any time he wasn’t under orders from Muzan he liked to spend his time training instead of eating. Fanbook #1 says he did that way more than eating!

Gotou: Training? What sort of training?

Douma: Similar things to what your Corp members did, I imagine. Doing squats, throwing punches, things like that.

Gotou: Then demon muscles had similar function to human muscles, and could be strengthened through hard work? That’s surprising.

Douma: I know, right? I’ll let you in on a secret, I don’t think it was the physically repetition that did anything. I think it was his willpower getting honed and shaping his muscles.

Douma: I had to focus when I acquired new skills too, like breaking down poisons. A lot of sad, lowly demons, like that Hand Demon fellow? They focus as hard as they can in their desperation, or focus on some strong emotion or attachment or whatever, and they grow and develop because of it. Sometimes all their weak bodies can manage is an ugly mutation, but that’s proof enough of how much focus they had.

Gotou: That sheds a lot of light on Nezuko, actually.

Douma: Shed “light” on Nezuko-chan, hahaha! Sunlight! You humans are all so witty!

Gotou: Speaking of willpower, I’ve got one more interview I need to get to down here. Of all the demons I have records of, only Nezuko went her whole time as a demon without consuming any human flesh, although she did go through moments of berserk cravings for it. It’s possible that other demons were killed before they could consume anything, but typically they will consume flesh as soon as possible, which is why its common for their family and close relations to be among the first ones killed. Tomioka-san even mentioned in Chapter 1 that these close relations are especially nutritious.

Gotou: A demon about as old as Kokushibou, if not older, is a special case of her own. She was one of the only demons we know of to have escaped Kibutsuji’s curse and acted in dependently of him, including having created a demon of her own after two hundred years of trying. Most notably to our purposes, she trained herself to subsist on small amounts of blood, after having survived on corpses and wild animals for a time, according to the extensive Taisho Secrets at the end of Volume 21.

Tamayo: I explained this in more detail to Tanjirou-san in Chapter 15, but I went on to purchase blood from poor people, and extracted it in ways that wouldn’t be harmful to them. The one demon I created, Yushirou, could subsist on even less. I gained enough self-control that I could treat injured humans without feeling tempted into a berserk state.

Gotou: I was just talking to Douma about willpower making demons capable of accomplishing new physical developments. Was that how you were able to gain this state? I heard you even enjoy a cup of tea now and then.

Tamayo: Yes, I’ve taken a liking to it. I’d offer you some if not for this, you know, being hell. It’s nothing like the hell I went through when first resisting consuming humans, though. My demon body refused to take anything but fresh human flesh at first, but in the hardest moments, I always remembered a kind demon hunter who said he believed in me and my desire to defeat Kibutsuji Muzan. I believe Nezuko may have summoned her strength to resist the call of her demon cells in a similar way; she knew she had her brother there to rely on. Once she mastered something as remarkable as resisting the need for human flesh, it gave her the freedom to prioritize other developments.

Gotou: You spent centuries researching demon cells, especially how demons may break down and metabolize poisons.

Tamayo: I had not studied the metabolism of poisons until working with Shinobu-san. The medicine we concocted for Kibutsuji was only possible thanks to her work, and I couldn’t had worked with many of those wisteria-based substances on my own. I feel I was only there to fill in the gaps of her brilliant understanding.

Gotou: You’re very humble. I would pass along my thanks and compliments to Shinobu-sama too, but I’m pretty sure she’s not down here. On that note, did Genya-kun go back home?

Tamayo: He did after a nice reunion with his mother just now, it was very sweet. Shizu-san and I get along well, after all, we both carry similar guilt.

Gotou: Wait, was his mother a demon? That means Wind-sama’s mother was too? Wait?? What??

Tamayo: The worst hell I went through, or that any demon has gone through, is to realize what you’ve eaten after the hunger-driven madness clears. Being similar to your own cells, they’re easy on a volatile new anatomy to break down and digest. That’s why many demons may have driven themselves to forget everything all over again, or to twist their personalities to justify the horror, saying that because they ate the hearts of their loved ones and because demon flesh can live forever, then they never truly killed them. The truth always remained untwisted for me, and to this day, it torments me more than anything in this underworld can try.

Gotou: …

Tamayo: You should wake up now, Gotou. You’ve been through a lot; the nightmares must be taxing on your health. Please remember to eat well.

#kny fandom theories and meta #too many characters to tag #I wrote this draft early last week and only this morning had time to edit it but it took foreeeevvvverrr on my slow computer #now off to work #eat well everybody #I'm off to work #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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fangirleaconmigo · 3 years

Note

For the WIP ask game: virgin sacrifice?

Hi Jenn! Thank you :D

Ok for the wip game ask "Virgin Sacrifice". This is the one where Geralt liberates a virgin sacrifice, and gets something unexpected...a handsome man who begs Geralt to relieve him of his virginity. But nothing is what it seems. I am writing it just to amuse myself, basically. The fic will be Explicit but the excerpt is Gen.

Excerpt:

Geralt took stock of himself before he entered the cave. He tried to smooth down his hair, but it resisted him. He gave up on it and drew his shoulders down apologetically.

If the girl was still alive, she'd be terrified. Terrified people didn’t tend to find his presence immediately comforting, and children were always the most horrified.

But there wasn’t much he could do about first impressions. His scars spoke of violence. And as much as he wanted to think of his eyes as graceful and feline, most people saw them as demonic and serpentine. And when he smiled, it only made matters worse.

Well. He wasn’t getting any prettier. It was now or never.

He crept into the cave. Sticks and twigs defiantly crackled under his boots. Something in the depths of the shadows heard him. It whimpered plaintively.

Geralt moved closer. He squinted, trying to unravel the gloom.

“Are you here to rescue me, good hero?” ventured a voice from the dark. The voice was hoarse and dusty, but it was unmistakably hopeful. That hope made his weary spirit ache.

People in difficult situations were rarely happy to see him. Resigned maybe. Grimly determined. That was the best Geralt could hope for. But the person hadn’t seen him yet. He would lose hope soon enough.

Another thing that struck Geralt as odd was that the voice was masculine, and adult. Young. But adult. It could not be right.

Superstitious types, the kind that offer virgin sacrifices, only tended to involve themselves in the sexual choices of women. Regis, Geralt’s vampire friend, explained it all to him. Fear of women, he’d said. Fear of their sexuality exercised independently.

Also, to ensure they really had a virgin, they chose younger and younger sacrifices with each generation. Town elders and clerics these days hauled helpless, tiny, girl children up mountains to be torn asunder, their lives snuffed out before they can even truly begin.

These were all just generalizations though. And not every woman was, or sounded, feminine. Geralt had lived long enough to know that the entirety of humanity would never fit into one of two discrete sex categories. He tucked his assumptions away and readied himself for anything.

“Eh. Yeah,” he said. He was frozen, unsure of what to do or say. his mind and his mouth refuse to run on the same track. Instead they ground against each other in disharmony. “I mean. I'm here to—“ he swallowed, “kill the monster. But I didn’t want to leave before I got the....virgin.”

“You killed Harold?”

Harold?

Geralt blinked and his eyes adjusted. He made out a huddled figure on the ground. Blue gray eyes blinked up at him from behind a messy, sweaty fringe.

“Harold?”

“Yeah! I had to give him a name. Even if he just snarled at me.” Sounds of awkward shuffling accompanied his answer.

“Why didn’t he eat you?” Geralt was still trying to fit the name Harold into the existing puzzle of a werewolf, and what a young man was doing trussed up as a virgin sacrifice.

“Rude!” the young man objected.

Geralt sighed. “You know what I mean.” He had forgotten all about hunching over, and his hair was as wild as it had ever been. He stepped forward and knelt next to the man.

The young man twisted his body so he could better see Geralt. Geralt wished he wouldn’t. He was glad it was too dark for this human to see well.

“Well I suppose he likes my singing. Liked my singing, that is. If you’ve offed him.”

“He didn’t untie you,” Geralt said, then immediately felt ridiculous stating the obvious. But the large expressive eyes at his knees were doing something interesting to his gut, and it was scattering his thoughts further.

“Well,” said the captive, scooting and wincing in another attempt to see Geralt’s face. “I’m quite sure he intended to eat me. It was just a matter of him getting hungry enough to kill me despite the entertainment I was providing.”

“Ah.”

“Also, he doesn’t—-didn’t, may his soul rest—have opposable thumbs. But you do. So please, my good champion?” He tried to scoot closer, grunting and trying to push his wrists forward to offer the ropes. They were wrapped tight around broad shoulders and narrow hips, and Geralt couldn’t help but notice that this was indeed a grown adult.

“Um, sir?”

“May his soul rest?” Geralt said stupidly, his mind coming back to focus.

“Please?” The young man wiggled.

“Oh yes. Sorry.”

Geralt reached for the first knots, forcing the man to turn his back to him to allow him to reach the knots on his arms.

“What’s your name by the way, good knight? I’m Jaskier.”

“Geralt.”

Geralt meant to tell him he wasn’t a knight. He meant to. But his mind was muddled, he was distracted, and perhaps he was enjoying the eagerness of this Jaskier just a little too much. No matter, he would soon be untied, and he would see Geralt. At that point, Geralt wouldn’t need to say anything. Jaskier would know exactly what he was.

He quietly made short work of the knots, each rope unspooling and thudding onto the ground.

“Alright. Well. You’re free now. And safe.” He threw in that last part so that Jaskier wouldn’t panic when he saw him.

Jaskier exhaled and scooted in a circle so that he could see Geralt. Geralt was still on his knees, and Jaskier sat cross legged, rubbing his wrists. He regarded Geralt carefully, leaning forward to squint through the gray of the cave.

“Well. Aren’t you gorgeous? We could’ve left some of those on if you’d liked.”

Geralt could have been relieved that Jaskier didn't run screaming. And there had been many a lonely night as of late, where he had yearned for a flirtation from a handsome young man, even if that man was covered in a film of dust and wearing a shit eating grin. But he didn’t want to be relieved. He wanted to be annoyed.

“You are not a virgin.”

.... (to be continued)

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

Text

But professor... - c.1

Summary: Penny Townsend is going to attend her first criminology class. What she didn’t expect was professor Walter Marshall.

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of murder and blood

A/N: I hope you enjoy this Professor!AU -- can you imagine? Walter Marshall as a professor? 🤤

Masterlist // But professor... masterlist // Next chapter

✎ ✎ ✎

My parents hoped that I would become a doctor. I get it—being friends with a lot of successful parents with equally successful children, must’ve raised their standard for me. They however must’ve known that medicine wasn’t it for me and going to law school isn’t my forte either. It must’ve been hard on them, knowing I wasn’t that intellectually gifted, though they tried their best for me to be.

They did a lot for me. At the ripe age of two to five hours, I was placed at the entrance of a church in Maryland. The pastor and his wife discovered me and brought me to the hospital, only to found out I wasn’t just a couple weeks premature, but also had a lot of heroin in my system.

My birth parents barely gave me a chance the second I was born (probably when I was conceived, but okay) and that is why I am so grateful that my adoptive parents care so much about me.

And that’s why I want to make them proud and studying psychology is my best chance at being the successful daughter they deserve, but man does it feel wrong to be here. I know there is another student out there who deserves to be here, who actually wants to do this, yet here I am taking their place.

Psychology wasn’t the greatest choice already, but having to take criminology was an even bigger mistake. I walk into the lecture hall for the first criminology class. My hands shake because of the nerves, they’re even clammy. I’m not good at making friends, so seeing those cliques that has formed after only two weeks of university, makes me slightly jealous and really alone.

I never really fitted in. My teachers would describe me as a sweet young girl, who is painfully shy.

That, of course, is if they even noticed me at all.

It can be hard to fit in, especially when you feel out of place the second you enter a room, like I have felt since I can remember.

‘Take a seat,’ I hear a deep voice say and I look up, to meet the eyes of the professor. He is unlike all of my other professors. He isn’t in a suit or at least some decent slacks. His denim jeans hugs his thick thighs, as he wears a sweater on top. His curls are disheveled and slightly frizzy and his beard is asymmetrical. A deep frown in between his brows.

‘Me?’ I ask in a soft tone.

He nods. ‘You,’ he confirms.

I walk passed him to choose a seat in the back. I take place and look around me, only to meet the eyes of the professor again. While I wonder what made him choose teaching, since he doesn’t look like someone who was born to teach, I also ponder about the fact he is looking at me again.

Why would he do that?

I grab my laptop and open it, opening a new document. I’ve been going to NYU for two weeks now, yet this is my first criminology class. I run my fingers through my hair, pushing up the glasses on my nose bridge.

‘Okay everyone,’ I hear the professor say, when it’s time for the class to start. ‘There is a sheet going around. Find the spot you’re sitting now and write down your name. If I find out you are messing with me, you have failed your class immediately.’

He is not beating around the bush.

‘I’m detective Walter Marshall. I have worked for the MPD, the Minneapolis Police Department. For this semester there are three subjects we’ll cover. Victimology, crime analysis and the psychology of criminal behavior.’

This is not at all what I want to learn. This is too gore for me. I should’ve stood up to my parents and go to cosmetology school like I originally wanted. It’s better for me anyways.

I’m so stupid.

The paper ends up on my table and I try to find my place on it. I write down ‘Penelope Townsend’ and slide it to the person two tables over. Professor Marshall explains how we have a weekly lecture of two hours and how he is available for questions every Friday, since he’ll be in his office.

‘Does anyone have any questions?’

A guy raises his hand. ‘Why aren’t you working for the MPD anymore, sir?’

Professor Marshall sits on the edge of his desk, crossing his muscular arms in front of his chest. ‘I was put on leave.’

‘Why?’

‘There were some issues,’ he says. ‘Between me and suspects.’

I have no idea what he is implying, but the silence in the classroom is so thick, that I have a clue what types of issues came with said suspects.

‘Really?’ the guy asks.

The professor only raises his eyebrows, which obviously means he isn’t joking. You don’t need to have studied Psychology to figure that out. ‘Any more questions?

‘Do we work in pairs for the assignment?’ a girl asks.

He shakes his head. ‘No, individual works only.’

I let out a sigh of relief. Thank the stars, I don’t want to work with others. Really, I don’t.

‘Okay, if that’s all, let me start right away. What do these women have in common?’ He presses a button on his presenter and the screen behind him changes. Three pictures of women appear on the screen. It’s their driver’s license photo.

‘They’re women,’ a guy says, causing a few to laugh.

Professor Marshall grabs the paper with names and says: ‘Does anyone have something less obvious to comment than mister Fitzgerald?’ He seems not amused at all by the words of Fitzgerald.

‘Brown hair, blue eyes,’ a girl says.

He nods. ‘And?’

‘They’re pretty,’ another girl says.

‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,’ he notes. His eyes scan the paper and he looks up. ‘Miss Townsend, do you have something to add?’

Our eyes meet again and I realize that I’m the only miss Townsend in the class. I clear my throat and look at the pictures. Say something smart, Penny. Say something intelligent. Really intelligent.

The obvious things have already been said, so I should stay away from those things.

I swallow hard, press my glasses better on my nose and say: ‘Their left eyelid is slightly droopy.’

I hear some people chuckle a bit, making me feel everything but intelligent.

‘Quiet,’ professor Marshall says and the chuckles die down instantly. ‘Their droopy left eyelid is what made them appealing to the killer.’ He looks up from the other side of class, right at me. His slightly annoyed gaze dissolves for a few moments into a soft one. ‘Miss Townsend made an excellent point here. It took an entire police department to come to that conclusion over the course of two months.’

Oh my goodness, I made an excellent point.

The slides change and I see another picture. This time it’s of a man. It’s a mugshot. I bet he is the killer.

‘Miss Townsend, since you are on a roll,’ the professor continues and I nearly groan. Really? He wants me to answer another questions? ‘What’s do you notice about this man?’

I scan his entire face. He has a crooked nose, blemishes on his forehead and thin lips. He looks like a killer. This would be the type of man I would avoid if I came across him.

‘His left eyelid is also droopy,’ I say.

Is that a tiny smirk on his lips? ‘Correct.’ While professor Marshall continues to explain about how his own appearance is unknowingly influencing his choice of victims, I can’t help but beam a little with pride. ‘Because,’ he continues, ‘if you understand your victims, you can understand your killer.’ The slideshow changes to one word. ‘Welcome to victimology.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Time spend in a lecture hall while professor Marshall teaches flies by. Though he is a bit grumpy and not very welcoming, he is interesting and smart. Much better than my other teachers. I put everything in my backpack, before I get up from my seat. I’m one of the last students to leave the place, mostly because I don’t want to be swarmed by the cliques.

‘Miss Townsend,’ professor Marshall says, causing me to stop misstep as I already passed him.

I turn around. ‘Yes?’ I ask.

He doesn’t look up from his notes. ‘You did well in class today.’

Is this man giving me a compliment? He might be the first one in a teacher like position to ever notice me, let alone give me a compliment. ‘I did?’

‘Yeah,’ he says, now looking up from his notes. ‘Don’t hesitate to say something in class next time. You have great insight.’

‘Or just luck,’ I say.

Professor Marshall shakes his head. ‘No, this isn’t about luck, this is good insight. So, can you promise me to raise your hand next class?’

I bite my lip, before shaking my head. ‘No, I can’t.’

‘Why can’t you?’

‘What I said: this was luck and it probably won’t happen again. I have to go. I reserved a spot at the library. If that is all, sir?’

He doesn’t say anything, simply looks at me. It takes a second, maybe two before he nods. ‘If you have questions,’ he says, ‘you know how to contact me.’

I nod, before I walk out of the hall. I see students gathering in front of the door and I quickly slip through them and make my way to the library. I’ve been going to classes for around two weeks now and I’m still up to date as we speak. I decide to at least make a beginning with the assignments of my criminology class, because the sooner I start, the less work and stress I’ll experience later on, because I most definitely will stress about it.

It’s been quite awhile since I opened a book for school for assignments or preparing for exams. After high school, I decided to take a gap year, which ended in two. I’ve traveled with all sorts of groups to different countries, worked at an international cafe in Japan for awhile. It did help me with my social skills. I was happy, social and totally in my element. Those wonderful skills were all forgotten the second I stepped foot back in the USA again.

It was my parents that pushed for going back to college and once they figured out that medicine or law wasn’t up my alley, they agreed psychology, though it wasn’t my thing either.

It’s okay, sure, but… Gosh, I miss the freedom I had during the gap years. I’m not stupid, but is the academical life for me? I have looked at cosmetology school and boy do I wish I was there at the moment.

And not here.

✎ ✎ ✎

I don’t know how long I have been at the library, but my eyes are tired by the time I close my laptop. Besides working on my assignment, I also texted my parents to tell them everything is going fine and checked out multiple cosmetology schools here in the area.

Originally I’m from Maryland, meaning it’s only a three hour drive to see my parents and for them to check in on me. I considered lying about my major, about attending NYU and just go to cosmetology school, but mom and dad are paying my tuition, which is another loophole in my plan.

I put the laptop in my backpack and walk out of the library. Every second my mind wasn’t occupied with university related things, it went straight back to my first criminology class, more specifically my professor. His words. It’s one thing he said those things to me, but another that he looked so handsome while saying it.

‘There she is,’ I hear from behind me as I walk through the hallways to the exit. I turn around to discover it’s Fitzgerald. I forgot his first name, which is weird since we share a lot of the same classes together. He isn’t easy to miss. Pleasant on the eyes, that’s for sure, but he is loud, thinks he is hilarious and that makes him kinda annoying. ‘Miss Townsend,’ he says in a mocking tone.

Okay, change kinda annoying to absolutely insufferable.

‘Hm?’

Fitzgerald walks next to me and he comes a lot closer than I prefer. ‘You’re already the teacher’s pet,’ he continues. ‘Bet the man has a thing for Asian chicks.’

I have no idea how to respond to that implication. My instinct says to get out of here, but the exit is right ahead of me and from the looks of it, Fitzgerald is going there as well. So there is no escape.

‘But let’s say it’s beginners luck,’ he says, ‘because it was actually the first time I heard you speak.’

‘You mind leaving me alone?’ I ask.

‘Why is that, sugar boo?’

Okay, now I’m gonna vomit. Goosebumps run over my spine and the hairs in my neck are standing straight up. I bet this guy’s dad is rich, therefore the only reason he is here. ‘I don’t want you here.’

‘You don’t want me here?’ He starts to chuckle. ‘Sweetheart, everyone wants me here.’

Not me.

‘Fitzgerald, are you deaf?’

It’s professor Marshall.

His eyes enlarge when he realizes that too. ‘No, sir,’ he quickly says.

‘She said she doesn’t want you here.’ He stands in front of the two of us, looking everything but amused. ‘You know, back when I was working, I encountered a lot of guys like you. Did you know they usually peak in high school, do okay in college, but the second they end up locked up in jail—and I promise you, they most often will—they aren’t so tough anymore. They usually end up as someone’s bitch.’

To hear this entire monologue and the word bitch from a professor, was not at all what I was expecting. Fitzgerald’s face is drained from all its color. While Fitzgerald looks like he shat himself, I am utterly amazed. I wish I was this intimidating, I think to myself.

Fitzgerald clears his throat, eyes darting around the hallway, almost as if he is trying to find the closest exit. He shoots out of this place very quickly, meaning I’m left with only our professor.

‘Thank you, sir,’ I say.

Professor Marshall simply nods. ‘You know, if you lowered your shoulders, you’d appear more confident.’

Why do I feel so offended? ‘Oh…’

‘It’s advice, miss Townsend, not criticism.’

‘Oh,’ I say again, this time in a whisper like tone. He could’ve brought it up a bit nicer though. No need to hurt my feelings like that.

Professor Marshall and I both walk towards the exit and I notice it’s raining. Great, guess who didn’t bring her umbrella and also isn’t wearing a jacket with a hood?

Absolutely fantastic.

‘Here,’ the professor says, holding out his umbrella for me.

Is this truly happening? ‘Oh, sir, that’s not necessary.’

‘I insist.’

With some hesitation I grab the umbrella from him and smile. ‘Thank you, professor.’

He politely nods and walks off, leaving me with the umbrella and a little bit confused. Though he looks so handsome and slightly intimidating, he still is nice to me. The only teacher ever. Maybe Fitzgerald is right and—

No, no, no, don’t think like that. It’s not that every man who is nice to me all of the sudden has this fetish. That can’t be it, right?

Maybe, despite my aversion, I am actually good at the whole criminology thing and isn’t it a one time thing. Luck. Maybe I do have something I am good at.

✎ ✎ ✎

That Friday I am still on campus after I spend my entire afternoon in the library. Since I have a question about the criminology assignment, I decide walk to the office of professor Marshall. To kill two birds with one stone, I brought his umbrella with me so I can give it back. I knock on the door and hear a low: ‘Come in.’

I open the door and am met with the professor, who is sitting behind is desk. ‘Sir, I have a question about the assignment.’

He leans back in his chair and gestures me to come in. I close the door behind me and expect to sit, until I notice there isn’t a chair anywhere for me to sit on. How unwelcome of him, I think to myself. Does that mean I have to remain standing?

‘What’s your question, miss Townsend?’

‘I didn’t know which format I had to use for the entire assignment. It’s not really that big of a deal, but I was here in the building and I thought that I could…’ Nice way of getting off track, Penny. As they said in high school musical: ‘Get’cha your head in the game’ and this is not the game. ‘Never mind. Which format should I use?’

‘That’s up to you,’ he says.

That’s it? That’s the answer he is gonna give me?

‘Right,’ I mumble.

‘Other questions, miss Townsend?’

Yes. I let out a deep sigh. ‘The assignment is just harder than I thought,’ I admit. ‘I don’t really understand it.’

Professor Marshall stands up and holds out his hand. ‘Sit, I’ll try to explain it.’

‘In your chair?’

He simply nods and I walk around the desk, to take a seat, while he leans against the windowsill. Oh, the leather is warm… What a body heat does this man produce. ‘Okay, the point of the assignment is to use some of the example files of—staged—murders. Based on the file you choose, you choose a format. You write out the victimology, try to narrate who the killer is, writing down all your findings and there are things I’m gonna talk about in next classes.’

I nod. ‘That makes it easier, thank you, sir.’

‘You’re already working on the assignment?’ he asks. Why does he sound genuinely surprised?

I nod again. ‘I am. I find it easier to work a bit every day, than to cram it all in one day.’ I realize how that sounds. ‘That sounds dorky.’

‘It doesn’t really. It’s a whole lot better than what I did back in the days,’ he says. ‘What did you think of the class?’

Is he asking for my opinion? ‘Your class was very interesting. Slightly morbid though, but fascinating.’

‘Morbid?’ the professor asks. ‘There was nothing morbid about my class.’

I scrunch up my nose. ‘It was kinda scary. With the blood patterns and all. The peek into the murderer’s mind?’ I shiver. ‘Don’t know, felt too personal and too much into the killer’s brain.’

‘The class you’re taking is criminology,’ he says, ‘you should’ve known.’

I shrug, not knowing what to say to him. He is right…

‘Miss Townsend—’

‘Penny,’ I say. ‘It’s Penny. Penelope officially, but people barely call me that.’ People barely call out for me ever, but that’s a different topic. Total different topic.

‘Penny,’ he says, ‘could’ve known.’

I don’t know what he is implying, but I realize I am totally overstaying. ‘I’m sorry, I should go. Thanks for helping me out. Oh, I brought you back your umbrella. I don’t need it anyways.’

Professor Marshall nods. ‘Okay.’

‘I should go. It’s getting kinda dark already.’

‘Let me guess, you don’t do well in the dark.’

I smile almost out of guilt. ‘That obvious?’

For a brief moment I spot a smirk on his face. ‘I’m a detective, I spot these things.’

Okay, not gonna lie, but that’s pretty funny. ‘See you next class, professor,’ I say, standing up from his chair and I walk towards the door.

‘See you next class, Penny.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x penny townsend #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x oc #walter marshall x asian ofc #walter marshall x penny townsend #professor!walter marshall #but professor

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literate-simp · 3 years

Text

BEING BESTIES W/ SOME JJK CHARACTERS; Yuuji, Megumi, Nobara, Gojou and Sukuna.

Notes: Look. I know we all simp terribly for our husbandos/waifus but I just wanted to write a simple hc about what it's like to be their besties

Warning(s): slight cursing. I indulged too much on Sukuna.

Includes: gn! reader, fluff, chaotic energy, mentions of romance (just light)

Itadori Yuji

He's friends with everyone, says hi to strangers and probably would be besties with every old lady he meets so it wasn't hard to be friends with him.

But the second he becomes besties with you, shit's gonna get borderline chaotic.

3AM and y'all can't sleep? McDonald's parking lot with an abandoned shopping car would sound damned fine. You both remember the moment as 'Chicken Nuggies and the Wind' since he t-posed on the moving cart whilst eating nuggies (you both almost scratched a Ferari).

If you weren't a jujutsu sorcerer in training, he'd still try to sneak you in his room to watch some movies. You with the snacks, leaving Yuji in charge of the movie picking (you can't decide to save your life)

Cuddles! Nothing wrong with besties cuddling. He's extremely respectful to your s/o (if you have one) and are probably good friends with them too!

Though the second you come to him crying, they were already being patched up in the hospital. Won't hit a woman, against his morals, but he will make sure she never speaks to you again.

Understanding, chaotic besties! An arm around your shoulder when someone's obviously making you uncomfortable, he's the one barking when he sees someone slip something into your drink.

The friend to help you find your way out of a frat house. Makes sure you're getting touched with your consent and sober. All you need to do is give him a sign that you're alright and he'll give you a thumbs up before leaving.

Definitely the friend you'd open up to (about anything) and not be treated differently after so.

You told him about your problems a few minutes prior. It was quiet, a bit too quiet. And you were worried he might leave you for it.

"Ey, Y/N. Wanna go to McDonald's again? I think they have that burger you like," He blurts, catching you off guard. You raise your eyebrows before smiling gratefully.

"Sounds great, Itadori."

You guys talk about women with butts all the time. Not out of thirst or anything, it would just be a random thought that comes up and one of you would contribute to the other. You once mentioned something about Jennifer Lawrence and he would not stop talkinf about her. It was hilarious how much he was drooling.

You wear his hoodies and he's fine with it. Thinks you look good in them. Sukuna teases you both about your relationship and Yuji slaps his mouth shut before he says anything more.

"You look great in them, Y/N," Itadori grins, rummaging through his closet to find more hoodies.

"Thank you. They're pretty comfy," You mention the fabric and the fluffiness. He listens to you intently before Sukuna pops out from his cheek.

"Ehhh? This is the one you think about everyday--," Itadori has never slapped his cheek so hard before in his life.

Megumi Fushiguro

Honestly, pretty chill dude.

He has a small group of people he trusts, and a smaller one to which he considers to be his good friends.

So to be his best friend, you must've gained a huge amount of respect from him; saved him, maybe even overheard something you shouldn't have and kept quiet about it on your own accord.

You would have a 'you aren't comfortable with it, so I'm not forcing anything' vibe to which he would be relieved to know. Though even so, you are the more hyper one in the platonic relationship.

Outings would consist of trips to libraries or quiet nights on the couch with your legs entangled together with lo-fi music playing in the background.

Not much talking, Megumi likes to keep to himself and you have no problem with the comfortable silence you both bring together.

Though sometimes it gets too quiet so you annoy the hell out of him to get his attention; cheek poking, soft arm punches, slight pushing.

Megumi ignores this, finding your actions a bit cute. If it gets too annoying, he will get up and leave, having you trail behind him, whining like a child wanting candy.

Yuji would join in. Definitely. Nobara too if she was bored enough.

"Megumi~ I want your attention~," You whine, running after the raven-haired man.

"Yeah! Yeah! Pay attention to Y/N!" Yuji supports you. You clap your hands together, only to be hit with a shoe by Megumi.

He would never do anything outside of your comfort zone. If you had an s/o, they both would be neutral with each other.

If you were to get hurt from said s/o, they would leave your house with a bloody knuckle. He wouldn't hit a girl, but he definitely will destroy whatever life she has outside of your relationship with her.

Parties are a no-go for him, unless his friends force him to. He's the designated driver with three other drunk children (Hint; Yuuji, Nobara and you). He wouldn't carry anyone else but you back to your room.

"Jeez, Y/N. You should know how to handle your alcohol," Megumi sighs, laying you on top of your bed gently and pulling the covers up.

"Nngh. Didn't know it was alcohol," You groaned. He smiles, patting your cheek before getting up to leave.

"I'll get you some painkillers in the morning, alright?"

You can wear his sweatshirts if you annoy him about it (he secretly likes how comfortable you are around him). He thinks you look charming in them, Yuji never shuts up about your friendship. It's the few times he's seen Megumi genuinely smile.

Nobara Kugisaki

Radiates bad bitch energy.

It isn't easy in the first stages since she has standards with friends but the second you both find something similar about each other, it's an immediate ride-or-die friendship.

You would need a major backbone, 'I'm too hot for this bs' kinda vibe (it's canon that the reader is a bad bitch, periodt). You would have arguments with her but it's pretty basic stuff like the perfect colour for nailpolish or whether Maki deserves the Earth or the universe (you both agree it's the universe).

Outings consists of shopping malls and popular cafes. You take selfies everytime you see something relatively new.

Talk about anything under the sun -- newest trends, new food to try out, Maki -- but her favourites are hearing you talk about your day. If you weren't a jujutsu sorcerer, she'd visit your apartment, give you a hug and sit on the couch to listen to you blabber away about something that isn't related to curses or death. She needs time to rewind and you never mention how vulnerable she looks when she's tired.

"Uh-huh and what happens next?" Nobara asked, carressing your hair as you lay on her lap.

"He wouldn't stop following us! It was so creepy! No means no right? Like why would you waste your energy following a group of friends who aren't interested?" You ranted on. Nobara simply nods in agreement, smiling at your annoyed face.

She doesn't mind your s/o, probably would just say hi before leaving you two alone. She doesn't have a problem about her friends having a relationship, she does, however, gets pissed that she isn't in one.

If you come to her crying about them, she would slither in some 'fuckin told you they were gonna do it' or 'I told you so'. Though it makes you upset, you know she's gonna trash their house the second you leave the room.

Your (now) ex would suddenly be cancelled beyond belief, you wouldn't know what happened to them.

Despite the bad bitch personality, you are the more patient one.

Parties is a yes. She comes in as a self-confident woman and will leave self-confident and drunk. She's the life of the party and pulls you into conversations to keep you company. Even if you don't contribute much to the conversation, she makes sure you aren't out of her sight. She's not the type to bring a friend to a party and leave them the second after. She cares about you even if her way of showing was a bit too pushy.

You share clothes with her and she'll give you comments about it.

"The shirt doesn't fit. No, no. The other one. Yeah, that one."

"Who cares if people say you aren't supposed to wear skirts? Your ass rocks better in those than mine. Just take them."

Personally likes dressing you up, doesn't like dressing you up for dates though. Still doesn't know why.

Gojou Satoru

God, the willpower you have to even tolerate this man is immense.

It's not hard to be his friend, all you have to do is do something that amuses him and he'll keep teasing you about it.

In this platonic relationship, you're the more calm one. People call you to take care of Gojou constantly, and you're the only one he allows to scold him.

He goes for missions half the time so it's rare to see you both go for outings. The most you've been together outside of Jujustu Tech and work hours was in a bar with Nanami (you both bond over the fact that Gojou is terrible to work with). He got too drunk and started slurring his words.

"Y/N~ stohp flirting with Nanamin and talk to meee," He whines, pinching your cheeks as you sigh.

"We are simply talking about your bad work habits, Satoru," Nanami answers whilst shaking his head, downing another drink before he gets up to leave. "I'll take him home, rest well Y/N."

"Noooo, I want Y/N!"

A needy best friend. Constantly asks for attention. If you ignored him, he would only make the situation slightly more annoying -- similar to Megumi's Y/N, the basic cheek poking and whining.

Your s/o would probably hate him, he's a bit too flirty and likes to hug you in public. People mistake you both for a couple rather than the s/o at hand. Don't be surprised if it's the main reason your relationships don't end well.

If you come to him upset because of them, he wouldn't waste a second to zoom to your shared apartment and 'deal' with the person. Would come back with a smile and some takoyaki. No blood on him since he used his infinity.

Parties are alright with him. He's the cool flirty dude everyone seems to fawn over. Would accompany you for half an hour, only to leave with another chick to a nearby bedroom. You never end up partying with him after opening the God forsaken door and he's never stopped trying to make it up to you.

Other than the traumatic event, he'd a bit of a douche but still tries to look for you in the crowd. He waves once he sees you and flashes a reassuring smile before continuing his talk with the others.

You don't share clothes with him simply because it's Gojou. Who knows when the last time he washed his clothes.

Though he's willing to share. You're just more reluctant, really. Finds it cute when his shirts are slightly bigger than you. If you're built bigger than he is, he would like how tight it looks on your body.

"Starting to think you look better in my clothes than I am. And that's a pretty good compliment." He grins.

Hates the fact you never take his compliments seriously. Says it from the bottom of his heart, he really thinks you're charming.

Ryomen Sukuna

God, was it hard trying to befriend this curse of a man. An asshole, he stuck his feet out to trip you over multiple times before cackling like a damned demon (which he is).

Though you're always genuine with him. You liked having conversations with him and listen to him boast about himself for hours. Guess that's when he saw you as a close acquaintance.

Would never tell you you're his best friend. Never. Not once. Him simply acknowledging you was enough for everyone to know he favored one person.

Being friends with Sukuna meant being friends Yuji. Itadori always apologizes on his behalf and you would always laugh, telling him it's alright. Sukuna gets annoyed by this though.

"Stupid human. Who do you think you are being all mush with this useless vessel of mine?" He sneered the second he could pop out. You shrugged, taking some popcorn to feed him.

"He's a pretty good guy. You should cut him some slack," You answered, stuffing some popcorn to your face as well

Will constantly threaten to kill you but you never paid heed. You know you're his only friend. You don't agree with his actions but you find the curse interesting.

Literally the only person who's allowed to tease him. You get away with things most curses would get killed from. You once hand him super hot sauce for his pancakes and he glared at you for the remainder of his time being conscious in Yuji's body. You found the plate broken with a fork stabbed through it.

You aren't allowed to go on outings with Sukuna (obviously) so you both spend your time within Yuji's room. Not allowed to go out since everyone'll freak out seeing Yuji with tattoos resembling the King of Curses.

"Humans are so boring," Sukuna groaned, his head on the bedstand. "All they do is just sit around doing nothing but scroll through their stupid boxes." You smiled at him.

"Not my fault you commit mass genocide for fun. I'd say we're pretty passive."

He would literally never care about your love life. Still has the old man mentality that romance meant sex and that was about it. If they were to meet, the curse would just roll his eyes and turn the other way.

Getting hurt by your s/o results to hurtful teasing and bloodshed. No in-between, no nothing. He wouldn't know how to comfort you properly so he'd send Yuji in his place. Would sit at the back of Yuji's mind getting pissed that he was hugging and rubbing your back gently as if he couldn't have done it himself (literally sent Yuji only to judge him).

Not allowed to go out so parties is also a no-go BUT since this is just a headcanon, let's imagine it's college AU.

College AU Sukuna would love parties -- he throws them, orders his friends to invite hot girls and frat guys. And invites you himself. No one would know you were friends since he never mentions it but will literally choke anyone who looks at you like you're a piece of candy.

Gets way too drunk and probably have railed 3 people to cloud 9 in a matter of 2 hours but still go out just to check up on you. He doesn't necessarily care but he hates having the sick feeling that you were in possible danger somewhere he wouldn't be able to see you.

Stare at you for a good 3 seconds before leaving you alone. You'd never know he was there.

Clothes! His clothes are Yuji's and he barely even keeps his shirts in tact. Does he care whether you wear it or not? No.

Is he pissed? Slightly.

This took me two days, I'm not sure if it sounds canon anymore. Anyways, thank you for reading!

♡︎ literate-simp

#jjk #jjk headcanons #jjk headcanon #nobara headcanons #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #megumi headcanons #gojo headcanons #itadori yuji #itadori headcanons #jjk nobara #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna headcanons #jjk fluff #jjk fluff headcanons #jjk hc

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

what if Jiang Cheng is the one in the arranged marriage with Jin Zixuan (maybe an au where birth order matters more than gender?)

ao3

“Well, no one cares what you think!” Jin Zixun shouted, and Jin Zixuan flinched, already knowing that this was going to end in disaster. His older cousin – his father’s favorite of the lot – was mean at the best of times, and when he was angry, he was especially cruel. A kid like Jiang Cheng, barely nine, wouldn’t be able to deal with him. “You’ll never made anything of yourself, anyway; the best thing you’ll ever be is A-Xuan’s wife!”

That was worse, somehow, than Jin Zixuan had thought it would be. Maybe because his name was invoked – maybe because Jiang Cheng looked as though he’d been slapped in the face, his eyes filling with unshed tears, and when his fist found its way to Jin Zixun’s face a moment later, Jin Zixuan thought that it was completely deserved.

Afterwards, when they’d all split off their own ways, he went to find Jiang Cheng.

He didn’t need to, he knew, but – he’d liked Jiang Cheng, at least a little.

He was the same age as Jin Zixuan, a little boy like him, even if he was the second child and not the heir the way Jin Zixuan was. He’d been laughing about something when Jin Zixuan first saw him, something whispered to him by his older sister, a plain girl recognizable only by her Jiang sect colors, but he’d straightened up the second he’d seen them walking into the room, putting on a serious expression, and Jin Zixuan had suddenly felt an overwhelming rush of oh you have to deal with this too that he’d never felt before in his life.

All of his so-called friends thought it was great to be the son of the sect leader, but they didn’t have to go to the terrible parties and stand there being shown off to people all night; they actually complained that they didn’t get to go.

He didn’t think Jiang Cheng would complain like that.

Maybe they could be friends, he thought, hopefully. Real friends, not pretend; friends that stayed together because they liked each other and not because their parents needed a political connection –

And then, less than a shichen after they’d been ushered off to go play together by adults who had better things to be doing, Jin Zixun’d managed to ruin everything. Again.

It didn’t take long to find Jiang Cheng.

They’re in Jinlin Tower, which meant that there weren’t many places Jiang Cheng could go that Jin Zixuan couldn’t find him – not like the Lotus Pier, which was an impassable maze even in the guest quarters that they’d taken special care to try to make nice and orderly for the one time they’d tried unsuccessfully to visit – and it turned out he hadn’t gone all that far, just ducked into a nearby guest room that was tidied up even though no one used it.

Jiang Cheng was curled up next to a window, his whole body looking especially small. He wasn’t even looking out of it, but he still gave off the impression of being on the verge of jumping out, or even just that he’d be blown away by the wind.

He wasn’t actually all that small – maybe a bit short for a nine-year-old, maybe a bit more slender, but his father and mother were both tall and that meant he probably would be, too, given time.

“You shouldn’t listen to Zixun,” Jin Zixuan said, and Jiang Cheng looked at him, red-eyed. “He’s dumb. All he ever does is say mean things, and they’re never true.”

“S’true, though, isn’t it?” Jiang Cheng said. “I’m the one that has to marry in, ‘cause I’m second, not first. I’ve got to leave Lotus Pier, go to Jinlin Tower…”

Marry you. Be the official wife. Smile and bear it and host your parties while you’re off fucking someone else – multiple someones – to get kids for the inheritance. Never have children of my own, but instead be stuck raising your bastards for you…

Jiang Cheng didn’t say any of that, of course, but Jin Zixuan knew.

After all, he’d overheard his mother and her friend – former friend – fighting over it. Madame Yu wanted to break the engagement when it turned out that the girl had come first and the boy second, since her husband was refusing to flip the order and marry Jiang Yanli out instead, and his mother had refused, the lure of the Yunmeng Jiang’s power more potent than their old friendship.

Caustic words had been said. Words he probably should have been too young to understand, words that maybe Jiang Cheng didn’t get yet, but…well.

His mother had always been very clear about all the things she hated about her life.

And now she was going to force the same life onto someone else.

“I don’t think my parents would agree to let me be the one to marry in,” he said, almost wishing he could. Sure, then he’d have to be the one living his mother’s horrible life, but at least there was something familiar about that type of suffering – he’d spent his whole life hearing about it, after all, hearing about it over and over and over again until it almost felt like he’d lived it himself.

He thought he could bear up with living that terrible life.

He wasn’t so sure he could bear up with being the one to cause it.

Jiang Cheng snorted. “Why would you want to?” He squinted up at him. “Aren’t you going to tell me that Jinlin Tower is great and I shouldn’t worry because being your wife will be great, too, or something like that?”

“I have no idea if being my wife is great,” Jin Zixuan said blankly, out of lack of anything better to say. He probably should have said something like that. “I’ve never had one before.”

They looked at each other for a moment, and then for some reason they both started sniggering uncontrollably.

“Of course you don’t have a wife, you’re nine,” Jiang Cheng said, giggling. “Even I know that nine year olds don’t have wives! And anyway, if you did, it’d be me, wouldn’t it? It’s not like they’re just, I dunno, handing out practice wives.”

“I wish they’d hand out practice wives,” Jin Zixuan confessed, covering his eyes. “That way I could be sure I wouldn’t…you know…”

“Screw up?”

“Yeah.”

Was Jiang Cheng going to judge him? Should Jin Zixuan have kept that to himself, pretended that everything was under control…?

But Jiang Cheng was nodding. “I wish they made practice everything,” he said emphatically, and Jin Zixuan drooped in relief, coming to sit on the floor next to Jiang Cheng. He wasn’t actually allowed to sit on floors, not even clean ones, but he was also supposed to be hosting Jiang Cheng, so if anyone asked that was going to be his excuse. “It’s so hard to get things right on the first try.”

“No one gets things right on the first try,” Jin Zixuan said.

“Wei Wuxian does,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Who’s he?”

“He’s my shixiong,” Jiang Cheng said. “It’s – kind of complicated. His parents were friends with my dad, before they died.”

- well at least I managed to keep my husband from bringing home a bastard!

Right. That kind of complicated.

His mother always told him he had to be the most careful around bastards – that they would be smart and pretend to be nice, try to get him to like them, while in reality they’d be scheming against him in the dark, maybe even try to kill him, so they could get what he had and they didn’t. Jin Zixuan figured the same had to be true for Jiang Cheng, and he felt sorry for him.

“Well, you seem good enough to me,” he said firmly. “When you’re my wife, I’ll treat you right.”

He would, too. He wouldn’t go around with other women, wouldn’t come home smelling of them, wouldn’t rub what he was doing in Jiang Cheng’s face and laugh until Jiang Cheng lost his cool and started throwing things – of course, there was always the question of the inheritance, but maybe when he had to find himself a woman, he could try to find Jiang Cheng a woman of his own, too, someone he liked, and those children could be surnamed Jiang.

Maybe they could find one they both liked and share.

“I don’t know what’s so bad about being ‘just’ someone’s wife, anyway,” Jin Zixuan added. “I mean, my mom’s the scariest person I know, except maybe for your mom, and they’re both wives.”

Jiang Cheng grinned. “Yeah, that’s right. Next time that big old bully says anything, I’ll tell him to repeat that where my mom can hear it, see what he does then…uh, no offense about the bully thing. I know he’s your cousin.”

“I don’t like him either,” Jin Zixuan admitted.

“Then you’ve got good taste,” Jiang Cheng said, and Jin Zixuan preened. His first ever compliment from his wife!

“I know we’re only hanging out together because our parents said we had to,” Jin Zixuan said, suddenly feeling brave. “But maybe we could…maybe…”

“Be friends?”

He nodded.

Jiang Cheng thought about it, crinkling his nose as he did. Jin Zixuan waited patiently.

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng finally decided. “But only if you help me prank Jin Zixun to get back at him.”

“Deal!” Jin Zixuan exclaimed, then hesitated. “I’ve never pranked anyone before, though…”

“I’ll teach you!” Jiang Cheng scrambled to his feet, then stopped as if struck by a sudden thought. “Do you like dogs?”

“Dogs?” Jin Zixuan repeated blankly. “They’re well enough, I guess…you have three, right?”

He’d seen glimpses of them when he’d visited the Lotus Pier last year, when they were supposed to have first met except Jiang Cheng got sick with a stomach illness right before their visit, throwing up and everything, and Jin Zixuan’s mom had refused to let him anywhere near him.

Jiang Cheng scowled, and suddenly his eyes were welling up with tears again, causing Jin Zixuan to panic again even though he was pretty sure it wasn’t his fault this time.

“I used to,” Jiang Cheng muttered. “But Wei Wuxian’s scared of dogs, so my father had them sent away. I was just thinking…never mind. It was stupid.”

Jin Zixuan bit his lip. It wasn’t a good sign that Jiang Cheng’s father was already favoring his bastard over his son, not at all, not when fathers had all the power in the cultivation world. Not when even his mother, proud and fierce and famous for cowing his father with thrown pottery and fits of temper, was in the end helpless to stop him – she couldn’t make him stop humiliating her, couldn’t make him stop going out and having all those bastards. She stopped him from bringing them home, but she couldn’t stop him where it mattered, because all he had to do was threaten to make one of them the heir instead of Jin Zixuan.

He wouldn’t, because he needed her maternal family’s support, but he could.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair to his mother, it wasn’t fair to Jin Zixuan, and it wasn’t fair to Jiang Cheng, either. And it especially wasn’t fair that he was already being replaced – and just when Jin Zixuan was starting to feel better about the marriage, too!

The whole arranged marriage deal didn’t seem so bad if it was going to be with Jiang Cheng, who seemed pretty nice. Jin Zixuan didn’t want to have to start all over again with another boy, especially not a bastard.

“If you know where they are, you could send your dogs here to live with me,” Jin Zixuan suggested, feeling suddenly spontaneous in a way he almost never did, and Jiang Cheng turned to him with wide eyes. “That way you’d have a reason to come visit a lot, and your father could see that we were getting along.”

It would remind Sect Leader Jiang that their marriage could be broken by either side at any time, if they were unhappy – show him that they were committed, that they wouldn’t accept inferior goods in Lanling. Maybe it could help convince him to keep Jiang Cheng and his mother instead of swapping them out.

“I was just thinking I could introduce you, but that’s even better!” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, looking excited. “You’re serious?”

“Sure,” Jin Zixuan said. He had an entire palace of his own back in Jinlin Tower, full of rooms he never used meant to host as guests all the friends he didn’t have. They could put the dogs in some of those, hire someone to take care of them – feed them, walk them, brush them, whatever needed to be done for dogs. If there was one thing Jinlin Tower didn’t lack, it was servants to do things. “But you have to come visit them. Without bringing Wei Wuxian.”

That way, even if this Wei Wuxian person used his bastard tricks to pull the wool over Jiang Cheng’s eyes to make him think that they were friends even as he stole away Jiang Cheng’s birthright in secret - Jin Zixuan’s mother had warned him - there’d still be a way to show how important it was to keep Jiang Cheng as the legitimate son. They might have just met, but it was pretty clear to Jin Zixuan already that Jiang Cheng was way too friendly and nice to know how to properly guard himself – someone would have to do the work for him.

And who else, if not his husband?

“Don’t worry about Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng said. “He won’t go anywhere if he thinks there’ll be dogs. You’ll really do it?”

“I’ll talk to my parents,” Jin Zixuan promised – he was only nine, there were limits to what he could actually do – but Jiang Cheng seemed to think that was enough. He smiled at him, and Jin Zixuan smiled back.

Maybe this could work out.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #jin zixuan #my fic #my fics #okay it's not JZX and his two brides #but it was in the queue so I moved it up #Anonymous

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Sommelier (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 3

A certain redheaded tabloid journalist tracks y/n down at work. Y/n finds out how persistent she is when she makes her an offer she just can’t refuse.

Trigger warnings: Christianity, stalking, survivor’s guilt

You made it out alive, and that was more than could be said for some.

Your consolation prize was a ghastly scar on your hand that you kept bandaged up as to not scare small children. You did get some worker’s comp after all; enough to pay for your medical bills and a little extra to make up for the lost workdays. All things considered, you were the lucky one. Four people lost their lives that day and three more were injured far worse than you. You should have felt grateful to be alive.

But somehow that was even worse. You got a couple stitches and some time off. It wasn’t worth four people’s lives.

Your therapist explained it to you very gently. You were experiencing a phenomenon known as "survivor's guilt". She encouraged you to join a support group, get outside and familiarize yourself with your new experiences.

This was good advice and all, but yours was the newest, hottest crime. You couldn't go anywhere without being hounded by reporters looking for whatever details you had somehow left out. Dr. Bloom encouraged you to take some time off work until the media circus died down, but you had bills to pay.

"I feel like there should be some rule about re-opening a restaurant within a week of it being an active crime scene." Charissa observed as she wiped down a table. "If anything, it's a health hazard."

"Are you serious?" You scoffed. You'd been tasked with refilling the salt shakers. Appropriate, because there was plenty of salt to go around. "Demand for this place has never been higher. Everyone wants to see if the blood is still on the carpet."

"Hooray for capitalism." She rolled her eyes. "Are you gonna be okay, [F/N]?"

"'Okay' is a very relative term." You forced a laugh. "I think I can make it through the shift if that's what you're asking."

"Aren't you behind the bar all evening?" She asked.

"Yeah, but that means I'm trapped." You folded your arms. "First thing you see when you walk in is the waitress who survived the- what are they calling him?"

"The Baltimore Butcher." She answered with a voice full of vitriol. "Do you think they ever consider the ramifications of giving literal murderers these weird superhero names? Like, no wonder we get copycats, they treat these guys like celebrities."

"Holy shit, right?!" You slammed the salt shaker down on the table. "Y'know, last night on the news, they used the creep's graduation photo and kept saying that he was a good Christian young man with a lot of prospects."

Charissa stuck out her tongue in disgust. "I saw that. And how he was 'corrupted' by crack cocaine. Once again, blaming a drug that was used to villainize poor Black neighborhoods in the 80's as some kind of corrupting agent."

You nodded furiously. "Instead of understanding that Christianity is a violent imperialist religion that lets violent white men absolve themselves of any guilt."

"And they knew it wasn't crack." Charissa added. "I heard that shit was completely uncut. You know he spent a lot on it."

"And I will say this until the day I am put in the goddamn ground," you tensed up. "The only reason the fucker escaped is because he is white."

"Hey y'all." Another waitress walked in for her shift. "What are we talking about?"

"Cocaine." Charissa answered. “Also white privilege.”

"Great." She said dismissively. "Hey [F/N], can I scoop up that bar shift? I could really use the tips."

"Madison!" Charissa scolded. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What?" Madison shrugged and glanced at you. "I didn't get any paid time off. I need the money."

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" Charissa scowled. "Are you seriously joking about her trauma?!"

"It's fine, she can have it." You rolled your eyes, then turned them to Madison. "Just know you're the reason I have survivor's guilt."

"Well now I feel bad." Madison frowned.

"Good." You and Charissa said in unison.

It was sort of comforting to get back to the script. Almost nostalgic. It provided the illusion of normalcy in an incredibly abnormal new reality.

You approached the first table in Madison’s block, hoping for a new beginning. A young woman with fiery red hair sat alone by the window.

“Hi!” You greeted, with a smile as genuine as you could muster. “My name is [F/N], I’ll be your waiter tonight.”

The woman smiled back. “Evening.”

You couldn’t tell what, but something was off. Perhaps you were trying too hard to force normalcy. Or maybe it was the borderline predatory way the woman was looking at you; like a shark following a trail of blood. Either way, the vibes were rancid.

“Can I start you off with a drink or is water okay?” You ask.

“Could I possibly trouble you for a glass of chardonnay?” She asked, lowering her eyebrows.

“Of course.” You nodded and reached for your pen.

“Actually,” She corrected herself. “If you could bring a bottle and two glasses, I’m expecting company.”

“Absolutely.” You scribble the order down on your notepad. “Do you have a preference?”

She thought for a moment. “Oh, dealer’s choice. Whatever you prefer.”

You soon returned to her booth with a bottle of your favorite chardonnay and two stemmed glasses. You poured a small bit in one glass to let her taste.

“You have wonderful tastes.” She complimented, filling her glass. “It’s very delicious.”

You rocked on your heels. “Would you like to place your order now, or do you want to wait until after your guest arrives?”

“Actually,” she repeated, filling the other glass. “My guest is already here.”

She slid the glass across the table and gestured to the other seat.

You felt stupid, but there was no way to avoid this. You couldn't just not do your job. She cornered you by the confinements of your profession.

"I really can't, I'm on the clock." You said, apologetically. The wine beckoned you. "I'm sorry, maybe another time."

"Oh, bummer." The woman placed her chin in her hand and pouted. "Well, I'm sure there's something that would make your boss look the other way."

She glanced down at your bandaged hand, then met your eyes. "The bandages are a dead giveaway, [F/N] [L/N]."

You then noticed a wire sticking from her pocket. Undoubtedly some kind of recording device. You looked at the ground. "I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave."

"But who will drink all this wine?" She asked, raising her glass.

"Ma'am." Your voice hardened as you tried to bite back an overwhelming rage. "Please leave the restaurant. I'm not going to ask you again."

Your manager, Matthew, passed by. "What's going on here?"

"This waitress is being very rude." The woman complained. "I ordered chardonnay, and she brought me chablis."

"Chablis is a type of chardonnay." You corrected. Even you found it strange that this was the hill you were willing to die on. "She asked for my preference, and I prefer the unoaked varieties."

Matthew looked confused. "Well, she's right."

You gestured to her pocket and he caught on immediately. He narrowed his eyes. "Ma'am, please leave the premises or I'll be forced to call the police."

The woman stood up, rummaged through her pockets and slapped a handful of bills down on the table. She then proceeded to drink both glasses of wine and walk away.

Matthew looked at you apologetically as he collected the bills. "Are you sure you want to be here tonight? I can call in someone to cover for you."

You shook your head and grabbed the bottle by its neck. "No, it's okay. I appreciate the concern but I really just want things to go back to normal."

"Hey!" A woman from the adjacent table called out. You prepared to immediately recant your statement about not going home.

"We like chablis." The woman said, gesturing to herself and her friend.

Her friend joined in. "And if that nosy reporter lady isn't gonna drink it..."

You glanced at Matthew, who shrugged. "Sure. It's yours."

The women exchanged delighted looks as you placed the bottle on their table. Matthew handed you a couple of clean glasses and you began to pour.

"For this wine, I suggest any of our wonderful seafood dishes." You explained, your cheeks stinging with a smile. "It also pairs quite nicely with chicken and game bird."

"Thank you." One of the women said. "If you don't mind, we'd like to take a look at the menu, please."

"Of course." You nodded. "Just flag me down whenever you're ready."

"This is why I put you behind the bar, by the way." Matthew gently scolded you as you collected the soiled glasses.

"Didn't you hear?" You said. "Madison needs the money because we can't all have paid time off."

"You should have come to me first." He sighed. "She has no right to say those things to you."

"Never stopped her before." You shrugged.

"I'll talk with her after the dinner rush." He said. "Just... try not to get cornered tonight, okay?"

"I'll do my best." You answered, flatly. “Because that’s definitely something I can control.”

The rest of your shift went smoothly, or, as smoothly as could be expected given the circumstances. The nosy reporter was right, your bandage was a dead giveaway. You had to dodge a couple of questions, but most people had enough decorum to know the wound--metaphorical and literal--was still fresh.

You said goodbye to Matthew and Charissa, collected your things and walked out to your car. You put the key in the ignition, only to find your gas tank was completely empty. You had just filled it that morning.

You bit back a scream and fought the urge to slam your head against the steering wheel. Throwing the door open, you mentally prepared yourself to either make a long trek to the nearest gas station, or beat someone up.

“Looking for this?” A smug voice said over the cicadas.

You turned around and saw the nosy reporter from before holding up a canister. A deep, blistering fury overtook your face as you slammed the car door. “You siphoned my fucking gas?”

“It’s not like you left me with much choice, [F/N].” She crossed her arms. “You’ll get it back once you answer my questions.”

You threw your head back in disbelief. “You’re Freddie Lounds, aren’t you?”

“I see I’m not the only one who does my research.” She said, looking a bit impressed. “How’d you know?”

“It’s the first thing that comes up when you search ‘unethical crime journalists Baltimore’.” You answered. “There’s a whole flair dedicated to you on the subreddit for murder survivors.”

Freddie seemed proud of herself. “Need a ride?”

“I’d rather drive off a cliff.” You said, honestly, before turning around to leave.

“Where are you going?” She walked after you.

“To get more fucking gas, you evil bitch.” You shouted back. “Are you gonna follow me to the BP too?”

“Look, I heard what you were saying to your friend.” She called out. “About white privilege.”

“Yeah,” You rolled your eyes. “It’s the same privilege that allows you to siphon a stranger’s gas and sit in a parking lot all night without getting arrested.”

“And I agree with you.” She hurried to your side, her chunky platform boots clacking against the asphalt. “They did you dirty and they’re shooting themselves in the foot by not listening to you.”

You turned around and threw up your arms. “Why didn’t you just lead with that?”

“I invited you to sit down over a bottle of wine, did I not?” Freddie chuckled.

“Cornering me at work is not a gesture of goodwill.” You huffed. “And I actually do want to put my story out there, but all you’re accomplishing by stalking me is guaranteeing you won’t be the one to do it.”

“Are you really in a position to be that selective?” Freddie smirked and placed all her weight on one hip.

You groaned. “What?”

“The Baltimore Butcher is still out there, and you won’t be the hot new victim forever.” She grinned sadistically. “Soon enough, him or some other psycho is going to strike, and your fifteen minutes of fame are up.”

“Good. Then I can go back to living my life.” You said.

“But what if his next victim is a Christian?” Freddie grabbed your shoulder. “What if the next person who narrowly avoids getting their throat slashed decides to go on record and say that he doesn’t represent ‘real Christianity’?”

You went quiet. You hadn’t considered it, but the thought of anyone downplaying his faith as a motivation made your blood boil. You looked into the man’s eyes and saw a person driven to kill for his god. A god he shared with the crusaders, conquistadors and slavers.

“...but it does. Christians colonized half the planet for--”

You stopped yourself when you saw Freddie’s smile.

“You want to get on your soapbox, now’s your chance.” She bit her lip. “Take control of the conversation while you still can.”

“Fine.” You spat. “I get off work tomorrow at four.”

Freddie shoved the gas can into your hands. “I’ll see you then.”

#hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #freddie lounds #tw christianity #will graham

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duuhrayliegh · 3 years

Text

Fuck Misogyny

request: Bucky uses his newly gained knowledge of feminism to squash misogynistic interview questions. @ptrs-prkrs

warnings: language, creepy men, feminist!bucky

a/n: hey babes!! i hope this lived up to what you wanted! i couldn’t find the exact video you were referencing but i know what you’re talking about, so i drew inspiration from a few others.

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

full m.list

The set up was simple. A long row of fold out tables covered in black fabric, microphones in front of each seat. Black papers were taped to the backs of the microphones with each team member's name. Bucky had told Evie that he wasn’t going to be able to work out with her today because of this so it better be worth it. The PR manager for the team, Amanda, had set everything up. Hired the mediator, notified the press, everything. Ever since they announced that they were going to be hosting an Avenger’s Q&A Panel, the internet quite literally broke.

Of course Bucky had been doing lives on TikTok with the group of five for the past couple of weeks now, so he was becoming quite comfortable in this format. He’s become increasingly active on his social media accounts, gaining more and more followers everyday. Granted, there were still haters, as Freddie called them, but Bucky ignored them for the most part.

Bucky was actually excited for this press meeting. He was finally gaining traction in the media and he knew how to correctly answer their questions. As Amanda had explained, there was going to be several questions from the mediator, tons from the press that they had invited, and then some fan questions as well. They apparently were going to be live streaming the conference on YouTube allowing them to read the comments and questions as it went on.

“Okay, everyone. You have two minutes until we start.” The team was in an empty board room in the Hilton hotel. Tony didn’t want everyone on the compound’s grass because he just had it fixed. Bucky scanned his fellow teammates. It was impossible for everyone to dress for the same event. Steve was wearing a shirt that was almost bursting at the seams with a pair of jeans and sneakers.

Tony was wearing a lovely Tom Ford, three piece, two-button, of course. Natasha and Wanda were wearing ripped jeans and casual tops. Vision was wearing a sweater vest and slacks, Bruce was clad in slacks as well a jacket covering his shoulders. Sam was wearing a button-up shirt and pressed jeans and he couldn’t find Clint anywhere, probably hiding in the rafters again.

Bucky had his iconic leather jacket donning his shoulders, a pair of slightly ripped jeans. His outfit was picked out by Cassie and Penny. “You need to look like you care but like you don’t at the same time.” Is what they said, the phrase made Bucky shake his head. His hair had finally started growing back and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it.

He had gotten help from Evie before he left Cassie’s apartment. She had pulled back the top half, braiding back two sections into the bun at the back of his head. There were pieces dangling in front of his eyes, “to accentuate the facial features, trust me they’ll love it.” Was Evie’s explanation as they pushed him out of the apartment, so he wouldn’t be late.

“Alright guys! They’re calling your names!” The team filed out of the board room and into a large ballroom. Bottles of water were placed beside each placemat. Tony went out first, followed by Steve, then Bruce, Natasha, Clint, Wanda, Vision, Sam and ending with Bucky. They all settled into their seats, Bucky peeled his jacket off himself, placing it on the back of his chair. His black short sleeved shirt highlighted the gold inlays of his vibranium arm.

“Oh, I see we’re showing some muscle today huh, Buck?” Sam teased as Bucky took his seat next to him. Bucky groaned in realization, covering his microphone so it didn’t pick up what he planned to say.

“Good God, is this what it’s going to be like the entire panel? You just bugging the shit outta me?” They shared a laugh making the rest of the members look at the pair. The audience clapped as they were introduced and continued clapping as they assembled before them.

“Thank you. We would like to welcome everyone to the first, of hopefully many, Avenger’s Q&A Panel.” The female mediator, Stacey, read the assigned lines off the sheet on her podium. “We are going to start with questions we curated for the team and then open it up to the members of the press. After that we will turn to our live stream and answer some viewer questions.” The press rustled in their seats, pulling out pens and journals as well as their phones to record. “Okay, starting off with a question directed at the Avengers in general. How are you feeling about coming before the media in this type of format?” Glances were exchanged between the members, not sure on who was going to start.

“I feel that this is a great way for the general public to learn a little bit more about each individual team member.” Vision was the first to respond and Steve added on.

“Yeah, I definitely think that there’s a common misconception that we don’t want to engage with the media or the general public. We do, unfortunately due to the amount of research and training that we are doing behind the scenes, it just goes to the back of our minds.”

“Right. So Tony and Bruce, we all know that you two are geniuses. What are your feelings on expanding the teachings of STEM courses to not only high school, but as far back as elementary school or even kindergarten?” The pair thought about the question before answering.

“Well, I definitely think that offering STEM-based classes at a younger age would be beneficial, especially if we were to allow the kids to continue to switch what they want to focus on.” Bruce started. “It’s incredibly anxiety-inducing for teenagers to have to decide what they’re going to do with their life right before they are thrust into an unforgiving world.”

“Yeah, I’ll never understand why we do that to our future leaders, it’s honestly baffling. Why do American schools wait until high school to require our children to learn foriegn languages, they aren’t going to retain that information. The same applies for such comprehensive courses like STEM-based ones. If you wait until their brains are already developed so far, then they’ve already decided what they think is interesting and if they don’t find those courses interesting then they aren’t going to pay attention.” Tony finished Bruce's thought before nodding to each other smugly, obviously proud of themselves for answering the question so well.

“Interesting that you see it that way. This last one goes out to everyone and then we’ll open it up to the reporters. How do you deal with the stress and anxiety that comes with being an Avenger? Do you feel a certain amount of pressure to always do the right thing?” Stacey shuffled her papers, tapping them twice on the podium.

“We all have our own routines and ways that we decompress after missions so that really just depends on the person. Like I think that Bruce listens to opera music, and Wanda mediatates, Tony tinkers. It depends on the person.” Natasha answered concisely, making Bucky nod his head. He could recall all of those things to be true.

“Oh definitely, and it doesn’t hurt that we have a former VA Trauma Counselor on board to help us work through the harder stuff.” Steve added a gesture of his head to Sam.

“Speaking of that Sam, just a quick question before we open it up. How difficult was it for you to transition from regular Air Force missions to Avenger level missions?” Sam made a face at Stacey before answering.

“Um, I mean, it’s not that different. You’re always fighting one of the Big Three-- aliens, androids, or wizards, no matter what department you’re working with. The only transition I had to deal with was the Tony Stark-erized suits. Now that I think of it, Tony, can we make it tighter?” Sam quipped making the room laugh with ease.

“Alright, well now we’re going to open it up to the reporters. Starting with this gentleman in the front and then if we could also give a microphone to someone on that side of the room. Okay, thank you.” The first reporter stood up, holding the microphone in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Hello. John from Huffington Post. The Avengers inspire almost everyone around the world, so we would like to know who inspires you? Who do you look up to in terms of your idols?” He sat back down as the team contemplated their answers.

“Gandhi.” Bruce said, Tony snapped his fingers and pointed at him then added. “Pepper, she’s so amazing.” Steve looked down to Bucky, who shrugged.

“I would probably have to say that my sister, Sarah, inspires me. She raised her two sons, Cas and AJ, by herself after the Blip and was able to keep the family business going.” Sam’s answer made Bucky smile. Sam had brought him to their house in Delacroix, he remembered waking up to Cas and AJ playing in the kitchen, happy giggles filtering through reminding him of his time in Wakanda. By the time that Bucky had refocused on the conversation they had moved on without his answer. Several different questions went by, all directed to the team at large, until Chad.

“Hi, I’m Chad for the Daily Mail. My question is for Wanda and Natasha.” The pair of women perked up, excited to have a specific question. “Do you find that your equipment hinders you in doing your job as well as your male counterparts?” Stunned expressions settled over the womens faces, then annoyance. Bucky’s brows shot up to his hairline, appalled that someone had the balls to ask that. Wanda and Natasha handled the question with grace and much more restraint than Bucky would have.

“Well for me, I am able to move things with my mind so I can throw things randomly at people even if I’m not in the room. I’ve been very fortunate to work with Natasha who has Widow training, so my hand to hand combat is improving immensely. And being able to work with Princess Shuri in Wakanda to learn how to fully control my powers. It’s an ever evolving process that I’m always excited to take on.” Bucky nodded and turned his attention to Natasha.

“My favorite thing is training with either Steve or Bucky because they push me to do my best. We all have our specialties here and it’s nice to learn new skills or improve old ones with people who support you.” Natasha sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, throwing daggers with her eyes at Chad in the audience, waiting for him to say something else. Chad stood again, yelling so he could be heard over the crowd’s commotion.

“That’s great, ladies, but forgive me, you didn’t answer the question I asked.” Bucky pushed forward in his seat, leaning into his microphone.

“I’m sorry, I think I misunderstood what you asked them then. I would like for you to clarify what you mean by equipment.” Chad balked, not expecting a male’s voice to respond.

“You know what’s implied by equipment, sir.” Bucky’s jaw clenched at the man.

“Did you just ask two of the most capable women that I’ve ever known, if their equipment, which I’m assuming you’re referring their breasts, made it to where they couldn’t do their job as good as the rest of their male counterparts. Just to be clear, that’s what you’re asking?” Chad stuttered as he answered yes.

“Right, well first off that’s disgusting. Just a bit of background for you, Wanda is the strongest Avenger here, plain and simple. As for Natasha, she’s the smartest woman I’ve ever met and she can take down every single male here.” Bucky took a breath before continuing. “So, what I think you really want to know is how they encourage their teammates to keep up with them.” He dropped his head to look at the two women down the line.

“Don’t worry Chad, I’ll ask them the right question, since you can’t quite seem to understand how to respect women.” The team was holding back snickers at Chad’s reaction. “Wanda, Natasha. Chad wants to know how the hell you push your male teammates to be just as good as you are. What are your strategies to keep us on our toes while training?” Claps sounded from the women press members and Bucky awaited the pair's response. The next press member stood and asked a question.

“Hi, I’m Chloe from Vanity Fair. This question goes to everyone on the panel.” Bucky settled in for another question that didn’t matter. “How do you continue to be aware of things happening in our society today? Do you keep up-to-date through new channels, or social media?” The answers were rather generic from the team, all of them rather uncomfortable from the tension that Bucky and Chad had created. Stacey interrupted after Chloe’s question.

“Okay, we’re going to open it up to viewer questions from our live stream.” An iPad was placed on the podium in front of Stacey and her eyebrows rose. “Okay, there’s quite a variety here. Here’s one for Steve and Bucky.” Bucky perked up, nervous to answer because his adrenaline had worn off.

“One viewer asks, ‘Steve and Bucky, being from the 40’s, women were treated like second thoughts and were talked about like objects. Now, you’re in the 21st century, not much has changed. What have you been doing to support feminist causes?’”

“I just want to say that everyone should be answering this. It’s true that during the 40’s women were not treated the right way, and they still aren’t today. An 18 year old can’t walk down the street at nine o’clock at night without being catcalled. I am a proud feminist, as everyone should be. I think that as a team we are doing pretty well in that department. As far as what I’m doing to support feminist causes, I’m doing as much as I can. I actually recently enrolled in online classes to expand my knowledge on many subjects, seeing as how I am from the 40’s and all.” The crowd laughed along with Bucky.

“Almost all of my classes have to do with either psychology or gender studies, it’s a fascinatingly haunting subject. One book that I’m reading right now was suggested to me by my friend Cassie, it’s called Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women that a Movement Forgot. The author doesn’t let up and I’m only halfway through it. Look, I’m still educating myself, but I’m a strong believer in doing what is right for everyone, so I’m trying. Thankfully I have a few people keeping me in check as far as my actions.” Bucky thought his response was well thought out for being an on the fly question. He was new to the concept of feminism but that didn’t change the fact that it made total sense.

“I’m with Bucky on this. The 40’s were a rough time. I remember the first time I met Peggy Carter, I was astonished that a woman could be in such a powerful position. One of the first things she did after I met her was punch out someone who made a sexual comment to her. I’ve been supporting feminist causes ever since working with Peggy.” Steve added, a sad smile spreading on his face reminiscing Peggy.

“This one says, ‘As a total fan of all of you, I love seeing what you post on your social media accounts. When are the rest of the Avengers going to follow Bucky’s lead and download TikTok?’” Bucky’s head flew back into a full body laugh. Tony shifted forward in his seat, pointing his finger at the laughing man down the table.

“I would just like to say he didn’t get that approved before doing it. However, it did go over really well, so we’ll consider it.” Wanda’s mouth rolled inwards, stifling her laughter.

“We’ll consider it, you’re such an old man. Most of us have TikTok already, we just don’t make content on it like Barnes over here.” Sam said, tossing his head in Bucky’s direction.

“I’ve got like three videos on there!” Bucky and Sam began bantering back and forth.

“Yeah and one of them is dancing to a Cardi B song! Who even showed you that? I thought you only like 40’s music?” Bucky made a face at the man.

“Uh, just because I didn’t like your suggestions for music doesn’t mean I don’t have taste. My Spotify playlist is filling out quite nicely, Wilson.” Bucky and Sam didn’t quit fighting from then on, just little jabs at each other under the table.

“Here’s a good one,” Stacey had a smile on her face, “Are you allies of the LGBTQ+ community?” Bucky responded quickly with no hesitation.

“Yes, many of my friends are members of the Alphabet Mafia. Why wouldn’t we be?” Wanda nodded at his question, laughing at his use of the phrase Alphabet Mafia.

“Yeah, absolutely. I mean, I’m dating a fucking android, I’d be pretty hypocrictal if I wasn’t an ally. Nat, Clint what about you?” Clint bobbed his head in response.

“Oh yeah. We all are, even the Star Spangled Man with a Plan.” Steve’s shoulders shook with laughter at Clint’s nickname for him. The team broke out into laughter, joining Steve. Stacey cleared her throat, commanding the attention of the room again.

“Alright, everybody! That’s it for today.” She glanced down at her papers. “We would like to thank everyone for coming out today and joining the Avengers Q&A Panel. At this time we are unaware, if we will be conducting another one of these, but the odds look good based on the response.” The team filed out of the ballroom and into the empty boardroom. Bucky was the last to get into the room and he was approached by Natasha and Wanda immediately. Wanda wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug.

“That was so sick, Bucky!” She stepped back and Natasha offered him a side hug as well. “Where’d you learn all that? And since when are you taking online classes?”

“That guy was being an asshole, he needed to be put in his place. I hope you guys didn’t feel like I overstepped or anything.” Bucky hung his arm over Wanda’s shoulder, leaning his weight on her. “And I started about two months ago. They’re going really well, I’m learning a lot and enjoying it surprisingly. It’s a good thing to do in my free time since I’m not always on missions.”

“I’m proud of you James, that was impressive.” Natasha complimented him, she wasn’t usually a woman of many words so that was a lot. Bucky smiled at her, nodding his head. His phone began buzzing in his back pocket, so he excused himself from their conversation. His screen displayed one of Evie’s senior pictures, signalling that she was calling him. He pushed the green button and brought the phone to his ear to answer her call.

“Hello?” She ignored his greeting with a squeal.

“Check your Twitter! Bucky, you’re trending! Here I’m putting you on speaker, we’re all here Buck!” Shuffling noises were heard through the speaker as Evie began reading the tweets to Bucky. Laughs from Cassie, Freddie and Penny could be heard behind Evie’s voice.

“Oh my gosh Eve! Just let the man get back to what he was doing!” Freddie yelled at an excited Evie, who retaliated with a scoff.

“Okay, okay! Just remember we have a movie night tomorrow! It’s Penny’s turn to pick so we don’t know what to expect.” Evie mumbled the last part into her phone speaker. Bucky heard the impact of a pillow hit Evie, causing her to grunt in pain. “Okay! We’ll talk to you later, Buck! See you soon!” She hung up the phone before he could get a word in edgewise. Bucky shook his head as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. Amanda approached Bucky asking to speak with him privately.

“So we’re getting a flood of interview requests from networks and papers. We would like to start running with this. We’ll have to go over everything with our PR guy, Ryan, but it should work out. As long as you’re comfortable with all of this.” Bucky smiled and nodded, following after Amanda as she continued explaining what would happen going forward.

He was nervous, of course, but he could tell these nerves were coming from a place of excitement instead of fear, which was a new sensation for the man. It wasn’t unwelcome, it was the same as when he first started hanging out with Cassie, Penny, Freddie and Evie. It was the same when he went on his first mission with the team. Bucky was ready to tackle this next adventure, whatever it would entail.

138 notes · View notes

i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 3 years

Text

Pinky promise

Steve Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: After the war, everyone returns home and tries to move on with life. Not you. You’re forced to go back to Brooklyn to take over your uncle’s bar with a constant reminder by your side that the man you loved didn’t come back to you. And her name is Sarah.

Pairing: Steve x Fem!Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Brooklyn. It has been a long time since you’ve been there. Last time you were there Sarah Rogers told you it was too dangerous for a pregnant woman to stay around. She had a point. With most of the good men taken by the war, only the shady types remained. Scum will always find a way to get out of order.

You took Sarah’s advice back then. You left town and moved in with your brother on his farm. He got out of serving under a law that prevented all children from one family to be taken away. Their two older brothers were already fighting in the war so you and your brother were left.

But that didn’t matter, after all, you were carrying a child out of wedlock and you know how that goes. The child’s a bastard and the mother’s a whore but there’s no name for the man that left you like this. Sure, you could call him an asshole or whatever else you could think of but you don’t think of him like that. You could never think of him like that.

He was just a good man with a savior complex and a heart too big for his body. Besides, he didn’t know.

...

Either way, you promised yourself you’d never go back to Brooklyn in fear of bumping into him. What are you supposed to say when you see him? Hi, long time no see, this is your child, now go be a dad. That’d be mental.

But apparently you aren’t in faith’s favor. When your uncle died, you were told that you inherited his bar. The same bar you had spent endless nights at with your friends. The same bar you had gotten your first kiss in. The same bar where he told you he had to go. That thing is a scar and a half but you could never hate it.

You adored going there, working there, drinking there. It was a safe haven but now it’s old columns with bullet holes and blown out windows that need fixing. It ain’t all that bad. Some sanding and a new layer of paint oughta do it. You feel a tug at your hand. As you look down, you meet the most beautiful blue eyes with golden locks of hair. She looks so much like him.

‘Mommy, I don’t like this place.’ Her eyes are wide like a deer in the headlights, scared by all the cars and people on the streets. She’s used to the peace of your brother’s farm and you understand that the pace of the city might scare her. You kneel down next to her and put your hands on her shoulders so that she puts all her attention on you.

‘It’s just the marching band coming to play,’ you tell her in a calming voice with a comforting smile on your lips, ‘it’s just tubas and drums and loud noises. You’ll get used to it. I promise.’ You watch your little girl raise her pinky up to your face. ‘Pinky promise?’ You smile brighter as you hook your own pinky onto hers. ‘Pinky promise.’ She nods proudly as you stand up to take your keys out of your pocket and unlock the door for the both of you.

‘Y/n, is that you?’

‘Bloody hell, it’s her!’ You turn your head towards the commotion and see two girls barreling your way, almost jumping into your arms. ‘Jesus Christ woman, I missed you,’ the blonde one cries out. The brunette lets go first and smiles down at the little girl.

‘Bonnie, watch your language around the kid,’ the brunette snaps at the blonde.

‘Sorry Connie,’ she lets go of you and looks down at the kid. You put your hand on your daughter's shoulder to comfort her in meeting new people. These girls are far from strangers to you but she’s never seen them before.

‘Sweetheart, these are mommy’s friends,’ you explain to her, ‘that’s Bonnie and that’s Connie. Bonnie, Connie, this is my daughter, Sarah.’ Connie squads down to shakre the little girl’s hand with a wide smile on her face.

‘Very nice to meet you Sarah.’ Bonnie follows Connie’s movements and shakes Sarah’s hand next.

‘Yes, nice to meet you Sarah.’

‘Nice to meet you too,’ Sarah says with a shy smile but she quickly hides behind you as soon as the women get back up.

‘Goss, you’ve got your mother’s looks,’ Connie tells her, ‘that’s a good thing.’ Bonnie nods in agreement.

‘You’ve got a point there,’ she says, ‘so who’s the daddy?’ You look down at the ground for a second, feeling your stomach drop. Sarah looks up at you with hopeful eyes but opts to answering herself.

‘Daddy’s fighting bad guys,’ she proudly tells them.

‘That’s right sweetheart,’ you assure her with a weakened smile. You quickly unlock the door to the bar for her and she runs inside, excited to see what it looks like from the inside. ‘We shouldn’t talk about this outside,’ you tell the girls ‘people talk.’ They don’t ask questions about your nervous stature, they just follow.

‘Sweetheart, why don’t you go have a look upstairs,’ you tell Sarah as you hand her the key to the apartment above the bar. The apartment that’s yours now. The girl nods excitedly and runs up the stairs, more than happy to escape the unknown faces of the women that suddenly embraced her mother. A breath of relief escapes your lips as you watch her go.

Connie and Bonnie follow you into the main area of the bar. For a second, just a second, it feels like it used to on those Saturday nights when the boys would take you out dancing but you’d always end up here when the night got colder. Your uncle would always give you the first drink on the house and you’d always cheer him on for doing so. It’s a shame he’s gone so soon.

Without really thinking about it, you venture to the table in the corner where you’d usually sit with Bonnie and Connie and whoever else wanted to join. When you look down at the wood, you can still see your initials carved into it. A faint smile thugs on your lips when you run your fingers over them. It’s been too long.

‘Spill,’ Connie demands when you’re all seated. She sounds rougher than she intended to. You can tell by the way she flinches ever so slightly. She always had a way of sounding a little too harsh at the wrong moments but you know it’s never meant that way. It’s just her tone of voice.

‘I wasn’t going to come back,’ you admit with a meek smile, ‘too many memories.’

‘But you did. Why? It can’t just be the bar.’ She’s right. It never was just the bar. Though coming back might bring shame to you and Sarah, the hope of running into Sarah’s father was still there. Maybe, just maybe, you wanted to see him again.

Bonnie leans her elbows on the table in anticipation, her head resting in her palms. She looks like she’s going to hear the greatest love story ever told. If only it were that way. You hesitate to tell them why. What would they think of you if they knew before? The three of you never really did talk about children or marriage. But the truth will out one way or another and you’d rather have it out on your terms.

‘You know, you’d think with the world changing so much, we would’ve gone past calling a child a bastard but we really haven’t,’ you say as you feel your voice starts to shake, ‘poor girl deserves a dad and the dad deserves to know he’s got a child.’

‘Who is it,’ Bonnie pushes. You look up from the table with teary eyes. ‘Steve.’ It’s like the world stops for a second as the two women give each other a confused look. It’s like they can’t comprehend it. Steve, your best friend, got you pregnant.

‘Wait, skinny Steve or buff Steve,’ Connie asks you. Now it’s your turn to be confused.

‘Wha-what does that even mean? I guess skinny Steve. Was there another Steve around,’ you ask them. They share another look that means nothing to you but there’s concern in their eyes and you don’t know why. It worries you.

‘Did you have a TV on your brother’s farm?’

‘No, just a radio.’ Bonnie runs her hands through her hair and leans back in her chair, astounded by what you just said but it doesn’t give you any clearity.

‘Oh, you have to be joking,’ Connie exclaims, ‘you don’t know?’

‘Don’t know what? What should I know?’

‘Do you know who Captain America is?’

‘Yeah, he’s everywhere. Posters, toys, everything,’ you say as you let out a nervous chuckle, ‘what’s that got to do with Steve?’

‘Steve is Captain America.’

‘Okay, now you’re just talking nonsense,’ you say as you get up from your chair and walk over to the bar, seeing if it’s alright. The two chase after you quickly.

‘We’re not,’ Bonnie claims, ‘the man had some sort of experiment done on him or something.’

‘Steve is Captain America? You mean the man that couldn’t even talk to women properly?’

‘Says the one who got knocked up by him,’ Bonnie comments, earning her a slap on the arm from Connie. ‘Ouch,’ she whines, ‘I was just saying.’

‘Just because you didn’t like him doesn’t mean she didn’t,’ Connie hisses quietly to Bonnie to make her shut up. You can’t help but chuckle at the banter between the two. They basically share one brain cell and it always struck you as adorable when they seemed to be opposite sides of the brain.

‘But why’d you let me go on the double date back then,’ Bonnie asks you, knowing full well that Connie had asked you first because she had already expected something going on between Steve and you.

‘I had nothing to worry about,’ you tell her as a nostalgic grin pulls onto your lips, ‘besides, I didn’t want to have to explain why I wasn’t drinking.’ Bonnie gasps.

‘You already knew back then?’

‘Of course I knew,’ you sigh, ‘but it wasn’t a stable pregnancy yet and I just didn’t know things would change the way they did.’ Connie grabs a barstool off the ground and puts it down, taking a seat on it.

‘So why’d you leave,’ she asks.

‘When Steve left, I was worried I’d have to be on my own raising a child,’ you explain to them, ‘then his mother suggested going to my brother’s farm for a while.’ You hear the stairs creak as Sarah runs downstairs calling out to you. You call back to her to let her know where you are. When she runs into the bar, you can’t help but stare at her adoringly. She’s just so damn stunning. She runs up to you and jumps into your arms.

‘How do you like it,’ you ask her.

‘It’s great,’ she says with glowing eyes, ‘but there’s too much space for the two of us.’ Sarah had only ever lived on your brother’s farm where she had to share a room with you. She had never lived anywhere where she had her own room.

‘We’ll make it work,’ you promise her.

‘Well, we should get going,’ Connie announces, hooking her arm onto Bonnie’s to stop her from protesting, ‘but we’ll come around tomorrow to help you clean this place.

‘That would be wonderful,’ you smile at them as they take their leave. When the door closes, Sarah takes your hand in hers and looks at you with seriousness in her eyes that you had only ever seen before when Steve talked about enlisting and how important it was to him.

‘Mommy, it looks like there’s someone else living upstairs,’ she tells you.

‘Well, that’s because my uncle left his stuff here for us,’ you explain to her as you put her down, ‘let’s go lock the door and then you can show me around. Yeah?’ The girl’s eyes light up again as she nods excitedly. You can barely lock the door with her pulling at your arm.

Before you follow her up the stairs, you take one last look at the bar. The memories you’ve made there are as thick as the layers of dust on the furniture. You don’t like to admit it but you’re glad you’re back and you know now, with your little girl already being so excited, that you two are going to be just fine.

...

‘Y/n! We’re here!’ You jump up from behind the bar, quickly patting down your pants to rid them of dust as you walk towards the front door to greet Bonnie and Connie. Bonnie flies around your neck as she did yesterday.

‘Hi love,’ you greet her with a grin that goes from ear to ear, ‘how are you doing?’

‘We’re alright,’ Bonnie says with a mischievous look on her face as she steps aside to allow Connie to greet you.

‘We found an old friend on the way here,’ Connie tells you as she steps aside to reveal a face you haven’t seen in ages. Gosh, if it were any longer you might’ve not recognized him anymore. He looks withered but the smirk on his face is ever present as well as the cocky look in his eyes and confident stature.

‘Are my eyes deceiving me? James Buchanan Barnes, how are you doing?’ You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him into a close embrace that he accepts gratefully. His arms snake around your waist as he pulls you as close as he possibly can.

‘It’s been too long, doll,’ he says and puts his hands on your hips to distance you from him. Just so he can have a good look at you. ‘Jeez, you haven’t changed since ‘42. You look stunning.’

‘You’ve got a bit more stubble on your chin,’ you tease, ‘and a haircut would do you wonders.’ He snickers as he briefly tickles your sides. You cry out a laugh and take a few steps away, lightly jogging towards the bar knowing he’ll follow.

‘So, I hear you’re the owner of this place now,’ he says as he follows with big strides, walking around like it’s still his go-to bar. You watch him as he has a look around.

‘I am,’ you say with a proud smile, ‘my uncle left it to me.’

‘He couldn’t have left it in better hands,’ he grins at you as he stalks over to the corner table, having a look at the carved initials on it. ‘Wow, they’re still here.’ You walk over to him, watching him drag his fingers over his own initials next to yours and Steve’s.

‘They are.’

‘Where’s the little one,’ Connie asks you. Your eyes shoot over at her right as she realizes what she’s just said. Bucky doesn’t know. Her hands move in front of her mouth.

‘Little one?’ As if on que, you hear the stairs creak under the weight of Sarah’s rushed footsteps. She told you yesterday that she was excited to see your friends again, even if she had been scared of them initially. You let yourself drop into a chair and hide your face in your hands as she steps into the room. You don’t have to see Bucky’s face to know that he looks shocked. Sarah looks exactly like Steve, how could he not be shocked?

‘Mommy, who’s that?’ You look up from your hands and gesture for Sarah to get closer but she looks nervous and stays where she is.

‘It’s okay sweetheart,’ you tell her as you reach out to her. She walks over and takes your hand, hiding behind it slightly at the sight of yet another stranger. ‘Sarah, this is Bucky. Bucky is a friend of mine,’ you explain to her, ‘Connie, Bonnie, Bucky, and I would come here a lot together.’ You look up at Bucky, trying to keep eyes from poking in your eyes and failing terribly. ‘Bucky, this is Sarah. My daughter.’ Bucky nods and makes himself a bit smaller, holding out his hand to shake Sarah’s hand.

‘Nice to meet you Sarah.’

‘Nice to meet you too mister Bucky.’

‘Just Bucky is fine,’ he tells her with a friendly smile.

‘Sweetheart, why don’t you go show Bonnie and Connie where we live now,’ you suggest to her, ‘I’m sure they’d love to see the drawings you put up.’ That’s all it takes for the little girl to grab Bonnie and Connie by their skirts and drag them upstairs, leaving you and Bucky alone for a few minutes.

‘That girl looks exactly like Steve,’ he exclaims. You shoot up from your chair and hurriedly walk over to the bar.

‘Really? I hadn’t noticed.’ You reach for a rag you had been cleaning with before your friends walked in, running it over the bar to take Bucky’s attention off you as your feel a lump form in your throat. However, Bucky doesn’t do well with being avoided. He grabs your wrist and takes the rag out of your hand, throwing it somewhere you can’t just reach.

‘I know you and Steve had a fling back in the day so I’m only going to ask this once. Is she Steve’s?’ He watches as your eyes fill with tears while you try to swallow away the lump in your throat. It’s as if all the hurt and hardships you’ve been through these past years while raising Sarah suddenly wash over you. You feel your shoulders start to shake as you take your bottom lip between your teeth to keep it from quivering. Bucky’s expression softens and he pulls you into a hug, gently rubbing your back until you calm down. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

‘His mother asked me not to,’ you softly stammer into his ear as a sob slips from your lips, ‘I thought he was going to stay.’

‘So did I doll, so did I.’ You push off him, holding both his shoulders to keep him away from you. There’s a pit in your stomach as you try to speak but the words don’t seem to be coming out quite right. It takes a few seconds before you manage to form a sentence.

‘You can’t tell him. Please don’t tell him,’ you hear yourself beg with a shaky voice. That’s not what you wanted to say. You want Steve to know but why can’t you do it?

‘I won’t, but there’s something you have to know,’ he tells you as he takes your hand and leads you back to the corner table. His hands take yours and his thumb gently drags over the back of your hand to keep you grounded. ‘Steve is seeing someone.’

He expected you to scream, or at least cry. But you just sit there, frozen, nodding ever so slightly to let him know you understand. Your feelings are on overdrive and at this point you’re not quite sure if you’re even feeling anything.

‘Mommy, are you okay?’ Your eyes dart over to Sarah’s. Your hands move to your eyes to wipe away your tears as you see Bonnie and Connie running into the room to grab the girl.

‘Mommy is fine,’ you tell her as she walks over to you. You pick her up and set her on your lap. ‘But sometimes even mommy has to cry.’

‘Please don’t.’ You push a smile onto your face to appease your little girl.

‘I’ll try not to,’ you tell her, ‘can you go upstairs with Bonnie and Connie a little longer? I have some boring adult things to discuss with Bucky.’ She nods and jumps off your lap, dragging Bonnie and Connie along like she had done mere minutes ago.

‘She is so much like Steve,’ you tell Bucky with a small smile on your face as your eyes linger on the empty staircase, ‘you know, on my brother’s farm she used to try to resolve fights between the animals.’

‘That does sound a lot like Steve,’ Bucky chuckles as he takes her hand again, ‘I hope she doesn’t fight as much as he does.’ You shake your head, a nostalgic look in your eyes. Oh how you remember all the times Bucky had to save Steve’s ass when he got into yet another fight. It got even worse when the two of you were fooling around and a man would look at you wrong. However, you did love him for it. Maybe you still do. You’re not sure.

‘I did want to tell him,’ you say, your voice surprisingly steady, ‘I was about to send him a letter when his mother told me it would be better if I left town.’

‘She told you to leave town?’ You nod.

‘Said it would be better for my safety and the baby and she was right,’ you admit, ‘but I’ve never been able to shake the feeling that I was keeping something from him.’

‘Do you want him to know?’ You nod again and look up at him with a smile.

‘You know, we didn’t have a TV so I didn’t know he was Captain America until Bonnie and Connie told me yesterday,’ you tell him, ‘but it makes sense.’

‘It does. He was always the best of us three.’ Bucky sounds proud as he says it, as he should be. Steve has always been a good man who doesn’t let his judgement be clouded by money and power.

‘She makes my life so much more meaningful,‘ you tell Bucky proudly, ‘I know I never wanted to be a mother but she changed everything. It’s like she’s got all Steve’s good parts but it hurts that she has to withstand name calling just because she doesn’t have a dad. She doesn’t deserve that.’ You look past Bucky onto the busy streets, watching as people walk by. Children are playing on the streets, women are going to the shops, men are reading the paper and smoking, and families... Happy, complete, families walk the sidewalks with smiles on their faces. They don’t have to worry about what others think of them. You wish it was like that for Sarah.

‘Do you want them to meet?’

‘I do but it isn’t fair to either of them to just put them in a room together,’ you tell Bucky, ‘I’d have to face Steve on my own first.’

‘That’s fair, do you want me to bring him around sometime?’ You continue to stare out the window as your eye suddenly fall on someone. You feel like all color is draining from your face. No, this can’t be real. Not right now. ‘Doll?’ You nod towards the window. Bucky turns around to see Steve standing right there, looking in with a grin on his face, happily waving at you. Of course, that would just be your luck. Bucky turns back to you.

‘I can send him away if you need more time.’

‘It doesn’t matter. I’ve got to face him sometime,’ you say with a meek smile. It wipes away when you flinch from the loud bang of the front door slamming against the wall. Steve runs into the room, still wearing a grin on his face.

‘Y/n?’ You get up from your chair to greet him.

‘Hi Steve, good to see you.’ In his excitement, he runs up to you and engulfs you in a hug like you’ve never shared before. He’s so much bigger than you now. It’s almost suffocating but that could also be the nerves. However, the feeling is familiar as is his smell. It’s comforting and warm. Your arms wrap around his waist to hold him close. You’re not sure if you ever want him to let you go but he steps back after a hug that lasts a little too long.

’Jeez, you’re still as beautiful as when I left,’ he smiles.

‘And I thought you were done growing when you left,’ you try to joke, pushing your anxiety aside.

‘I thought so too,’ he says and turns to Bucky to quickly shake his hand in greeting. ‘Did you know she was back?’

‘No, I ran into Bonnie and Connie today. They found out she was back yesterday,’ Bucky tells him. ‘They’re around here somewhere to help clean the bar.’ Steve nods at Bucky’s blatant lie but he doesn’t seem to notice.

‘So, you’re running your uncle’s bar now?’ You nod but Steve can tell that you’re nervous. Your eyes are still red and puffy and he saw you cry when he looked through the window. ‘Are you okay?’ You nod, averting your eyes from him.

‘Sit down, we have to talk,’ you say as you sit back down. He looks confused as he sits down next to Bucky in his usual place. It’s a strange sight. He doesn’t fit into the picture anymore. He’s gotten too big.

‘What is it?’ You take a deep breath.

‘Listen, I can keep running around this but that wouldn’t be fair to you-’

‘You’re making me nervous Y/n.’ His eyes shoot to Bucky but he isn’t giving him anything. In fact, he’s leaning back to show to Steve that this is something between the two of you. He’s just there for moral support.

‘You have a child.’ His jaw drops as he scrambles to find the words to say.

‘I’m sorry, I have a what now?’ Bucky leans forward and hits Steve’s arm.

‘You heard her,’ he snaps, ‘Jesus, don’t you see how much this is taking out of her?’

‘It’s fine Bucky,’ you assure him.

‘Did you know,’ Steve asks Bucky and you feel the situation slipping from your fingers.

‘No, I didn’t know but it isn’t my child.’

‘Stop it,’ you snap. The men look back at you and their faces drop as they watch tears slip onto your cheeks. You grab Steve’s hand from the table. ‘Yes, you have a child. Her name is Sarah Josephine Y/l/n. I couldn’t call her Rogers because we’re not married but I thought you’d like that name for her.’

‘I do, but why am I only hearing this now,’ he asks, obviously confused and stressed. Suddenly, there is the weight of being a runaway dad on his shoulders. Even if he didn’t know about the child’s existence up until now, he still doesn’t like it.

‘Your mother asked me to move away from the city for the safety of the child,’ you explain to him, ‘and I didn’t know how to reach you. I mean, damn, I didn’t even know you changed this much.’ Steve stays quiet for a while, looking at his hand in yours as your thumb gently strokes over his skin. Your hands had always been smaller than his and he always liked how they looked next to his but for some reason he feels strange because of your touch.

‘Can I see her?’ You look from Steve to Bucky, your eyes carry worry as you wipe away your tears.

‘I don’t know. She’s already met so many new people today, it might-’ Steve squeezes your hand gently and looks up at you with hopeful eyes. Eyes that she has never been able to say no to.

‘Please?’ You sigh, taking a second to collect yourself. Why did it have to be him?

‘I just need to know one thing,’ you state, not daring to look into his eyes, ‘I know you’re dating someone but if I let you meet her, will you stay in her life? Because I can’t introduce her to her dad and then tell her that she never gets to see him again. It would break her heart.’ His hand gently slips under her chin, pushing her head up slightly so she’s looking at him.

‘I promise.’ You take a deep breath and let go of his hand as you put your pinky up.

‘Pinky promise?’ A smile spreads on his face as he hooks his pinky onto hers like he had done a thousand times before. When he promised to pick her up from somewhere, when he promised he’d stay loyal to her when going out with Bucky, when he promised he’d come back to her after the war. That last one is the only one he hadn’t made true yet.

‘Pinky promise.’ You nod, a small smile on your lips as your pinky slips from his. He watches as you walk over to the staircase and disappear for a little. When you reappear, you’re carrying a little girl. Eyes as blue as his, golden locks draping over her shoulders, and a tiny stature.

‘Sarah, I want you to meet someone,’ you tell your daughter with a gentle smile, ‘this is Steve Rogers.’ You put her down in the middle of the bar, letting her choose what to do. You watch as her eyes widen at the sight of Steve. She knows of Steve Rogers. You told her about him.

As his eyes meet those of Sarah, he gets up from his chair so fast the thing falls onto the floor, scaring Sarah into hiding behind you. His eyes fill with hurt as he watches her hide and he gets on his knees to be more on eye level with Sarah.

‘But mommy, he isn’t scrawny at all.’ You let out a laugh and kneel down next to her, putting your hand on her shoulder.

‘Scrawny? Really?’ Steve bellows a soft laugh as you shrug.

‘He was really scrawny when he was younger,’ you reassure Sarah, ‘he just got bigger.’ She wraps her hands around your arm for security as she looks at him.

‘Are you so big from fighting bad guys?’ You nod vigorously at Steve in hopes that he gets the hints.

‘Yes,’ he says with a gentle smile. That seems to put Sarah’s nerves at ease a little. She takes a step away from her and a step closer to Steve.

‘Are you a soldier?’

‘I’m a captain,’ he tells her proudly. Sarah nods, pretending to understand him as she takes another step closer.

‘Are you going to stay? Because mommy told me you weren’t with us because you had to fight bad guys in the war.’

‘Well, the war is over,’ he tells her as he peeks past Sarah at you, ‘so I think I’ll stick around a while.’ Sarah takes the last few steps towards him and puts her pinky up to him.

‘Pinky promise?’ He smiles at her and hooks her pinky onto hers, marveling at the size difference of their hands. That’s his daughter. His little girl. And just behind her is her mother. You, the amazing woman that he admired from the second he laid eyes on you.

There’s nothing in this wide, wide world that could keep him away from the two of you. And as he looks back at you and watches a tear slip onto your cheek again, he knows you know too.

‘Pinky promise.’

103 notes · View notes

bpro-cardstories · 3 years

Text

Ryuji Korekuni SSR

2017 ー Flower Garden [Flower Garden]

"Geez….. It’s not like all sweets get you back in a good mood."

Part 1

ーIn the meeting room.ー

Ryuji: ‘…..…..’

(Ryuji-kun somehow doesn’t look well….. Maybe he’s exhausted, because the schedule was packed these days?)

Ryuji (sighs): ‘….. Haa.’

Tsubasa: ‘Uhm, are you fine?’

Ryuji: ‘….. Yeah. I’m just a bit sleep-deprived. Work has been going until late, so we’ve been coming home at midnight recently. My mind and body are so agitated after the recording, that I can’t really fall asleep.’

Tsubasa: ‘That sounds hard…..’

Ryuji: ‘Well, when we are finished, we can go home. But the staff has to work until even later, so I won’t complain.’

Tomohisa (smiles): ‘And besides, it makes us happy when it’s busy.’

Ryuji (smiles): ‘Now that you mention it, I heard some unusual work came in.’

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, yes! An offer to appear at the Flower Garden opening ceremony came in.’

Tomohisa: ‘Does it include singing?’

Tsubasa: ‘Yes, it does.’

Tomohisa: ‘Hee, how nice. To be able to sing at something like the Flower Garden sounds romantic.’

Ryuji: ‘Hmm…..’

Tomohisa: ‘Oh, Ryuji doesn’t seem to be attracted to it?’

Ryuji (shakes head): ‘It’s not like that…..’

(Ryuji-kun looks depressed. And seems to be quite tired…..)

Tsubasa: ‘….. Ah! It looks like you will be able to eat plenty of sweets made by a famous hotel pastry chef at the ceremony!’

Tomohisa (smiles): ‘Look, did it catch your interest a bit?’

Ryuji (upset): ‘Geez….. It’s not like all sweets get you back in a good mood.’

Tomohisa (smiles): ‘Hmm. You seem to be in a pretty bad temper today.’

Tsubasa: ‘…..’

(I would like to adjust their schedule in some way, but it seems difficult for a while…..)

Part 2

ーAnother day.ー

(I wonder if the rehearsal for the ceremony is already over? I hope Ryuji-kun is in a better mood…..)

Tsubasa: ‘Hello!’

Ryuji: ‘Oh, Tsubasa, hi.’

Tsubasa: ‘I was able to make a bit of time, so I came to see how you are doing. Here are some refreshments.’

Ryuji: ‘! This is…..’

Tsubasa: ‘The pudding from Ryuji-kun’s favourite store!’

Ryuji: ‘…..!’

Tomohisa: ‘Fufu. Good for you, Ryuji.’

Ryuji (smiles): ‘Just when I thought I wanted to eat something sweet. Aren’t you thoughtful, Tsubasa.’

Tomohisa: ‘Ryuji, that’s where you genuinely say thank you, right?’

Ryuji: ‘Uh….. I was about to do that now!’

Ryuji (blushes): ‘….. Thanks.’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufufu, I am glad you were pleased about it.’

Ryuji: ‘Since you’re already here, should we eat it together?’

Tsubasa: ‘Yes, thank you very much.’

Ryuji: ‘I wonder what flavour should I go with~ ♪.’

(I’m glad. His good mood is all back.)

Tsubasa: ‘Did the rehearsal go well?’

Ryuji: ‘Of course. I was talking with Tomo about how good it feels.’

Tomohisa: ‘You don’t need to worry about the performance, it’s going to be fine. Ryuji’s bad temper has also been fixed in this way.’

Ryuji: ‘Pah. I’m always in a good mood though?’

Tomohisa: ‘Fufu, you’re right.’

Ryuji (winks): ‘Tsubasa, we’ll deliver the best performance, so make sure you have your eyes on us.’

Tsubasa: ‘Yes! I am looking forward to it.’

(Ryuji-kun is so energetic, he does love to stand on the stage after all.)

Part 3

ーThe day of the performance. In the waiting room.ー

Yuta: ‘Ah, it’s Tsubasa-chan! Yahoo!’

Tsubasa: ‘This is where everyone is. Hello!’

Ryuji: ‘…..….. Hello.’

Tsubasa: ‘….. Eh, eh…..?’

(Ryuji-kun is back in a bad mood again…..?)

Tsubasa: ‘Is something wrong?’

Ryuji: ‘….. Not really.’

(Th-The air’s heavy…..!)

Yuta comes closer.

Yuta: ‘Tsubasa-chan, Tsubasa-chan.’

Tsubasa: ‘?’

Yuta: ‘You know, earlier at the venue we met the big people from the organizing. It was only for a bit, but it looks like he was told something mean.’

ーFlashback.ー

Staff: ‘Oh~, it’s you two from KitaKore. Kitakado-kun looks like a prince, so I thought you would certainly be the same type, too….. But you’re a princess, if I had to say so.’

Staff: ‘How about trying out women's clothes? It might have some impact? Come on, genderless is in fashion now.’

ーEnd of flashback.ー

Tsubasa: ‘How terrible…..’

Yuta: ‘I think the other person didn’t really say it with bad intentions maybe, but…..’

Ryuji: ‘Wait, Yuta, what are you telling on me there. Didn’t I say that I didn’t mind it?’

Yuta: ‘But Ryu-chan…..’

Ryuji: ‘That often happens. If I would take that seriously every time, there would be no end to it.’

Yuta: ‘Y-Yeah…..’

(That’s Ryuji-kun for you. Just as I thought, because he’s been doing this work since he was a child his reaction sure is mature.)

Ryuji: ‘…..’

Yuta: ‘…..’

(But, the atmosphere is heavy in the end….. That’s not good before the performance.)

The door opens.

Tomohisa: ‘Ryuji, can I have a minute?’

Ryuji: ‘Tomo. What’s wrong?’

Tomohisa (smiles): ‘What could this be?’

Ryuji: ‘What do you mean, it’s obvious just by looking. It’s a macaron, right?’

Tomohisa: ‘It’s alright, so open your mouth. ….. Here, aaah.’

Ryuji: ‘Aaah…..’

Ryuji: ‘….. Nhhn!’

Ryuji: ‘That’s!’

Tomohisa: ‘Fufu, did you figure it out? A macaron from “him” whom Ryuji loves so much. I asked the people at the venue for this favour.’

Ryuji: ‘To think I’d be able to eat it here…..!’

Ryuji: ‘Could it be that he’s here at the venue?’

Tomohisa: ‘No, it’s a shame, but this time it’s only the sweets. But he said that he’s looking forward to the broadcasting of the performance.’

Ryuji: ‘I see.’

Ryuji: ‘Aah, this taste….. It hasn't changed since back then.’

Yuta: ‘Hey, hey, Ryu-chan! Give me one, too!’

Ryuji (laughs): ‘Eh~? What do I do now, hm.’

Yuta: ‘Waah, don’t be a bully~~!’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufufu.’

(I’m relieved. The atmosphere around Ryuji-kun instantly brightened.)

Tomohisa: ‘Fufu, in the end Ryuji’s special medicine is sweets.’

Part 4

ーAfter the end of the ceremony.ー

Tsubasa: ‘Everyone, good work! It was a really wonderful ceremony.’

Tomohisa: ‘Thank you. It’s been a while since we sang outside, so we also enjoyed it.’

Ryuji: ‘Yep. I enjoyed that kind of party for the first time in a while.’

Tomohisa: ‘And, there was also an unexpected surprise, no?’

Ryuji: ‘Yes, yes, definitely! I didn’t think I would be able to eat “that person’s” sweets.’

Tsubasa: ‘Uhm, “that person”…..? Is he an acquaintance of you two?’

Tomohisa: ‘To be honest, yes. The pastry chef, who was in charge of the sweets for the ceremony today, is someone we've been indebted to since we were children.’

Ryuji: ‘He’s the pastry chef purveyor to the Kitakado household and on parties or special events his sweets were always part of them.’

Tsubasa: ‘I understand.’

Ryuji: ‘Especially his macarons are masterpieces. During our Bambi time we both often asked him to make all kinds of sweets for us.’

Tomohisa: ‘Though they were mostly Ryuji’s requests.’

Ryuji: ‘Eh, was it so? Didn’t Tomo also want to eat things like Simmered Taro in Sweetened Soy Sauce* or asked for something different than sweets?’

Tomohisa: ‘Ahaha, that might be so. You remembered that well.’

Ryuji: ‘But all of them were delicious.’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, you do love him a lot.’

Tomohisa: ‘We will introduce him to Tsubasa next time.’

Tomohisa: ‘Before I forget, would you come to our apartment on our free day?’

Ryuji: ‘That sounds great! Because we were busy these days we weren’t able to visit the store, so we’ll ask him to make us lots of sweets ♪.’

Tomohisa: ‘Yeah, we will contact you.’

Part 5

ーA few days later. In the evening.ー

(The previous location dragged on, so I arrived later than the promised time unfortunately…..)

______

The doorbell rings.

Tomohisa: ‘Hello, Tsubasa. Come in.’

Tsubasa: ‘Hello! I am terribly sorry for my lateness.’

Tomohisa: ‘It’s fine. Now, come into the living room.’

Tsubasa: ‘Yes, excuse me for the intrusion.’

Tsubasa: ‘…..?’

(It smells sweet here…..)

Ryuji: ‘Ah, you finally came.’

Tsubasa: ‘I am sorry to have kept you waiting.’

Ryuji (sighs): ‘Really. I was getting tired of waiting.’

Ryuji (smiles): ‘Come on, sit down already!’

Tsubasa: ‘Y-Yes.’

(I wonder what’s wrong, Ryuji-kun is strangely in a good mood…..?)

Tsubasa: ‘Ryuji-kun, did something happen?’

Tomohisa: ‘Fufu, I wonder?’

Ryuji: ‘Tsubasa!’

Tsubasa: ‘Yes.’

Ryuji: ‘Open your mouth! Here, aaahh.’

Tsubasa: ‘Eh!? ….. Nhmm.’

Ryuji: ‘How is it? This cupcake is from the pastry chef’s store we talked about the other day. Delicious, right?’

Tsubasa: ‘Nn….., very delicious!’

Ryuji: ‘I know, right! There are also cookies and madeleines. Eat away.’

Tsubasa: ‘Thank you very much. But, why suddenly…..?’

Ryuji: ‘F-For no reason, really. I just bought them, because I was craving some sweets after I ate the ones at the ceremony last time!’

Tomohisa: ‘Oh, that’s weird? What I heard was surely to make them togeーー’

Ryuji (blushes): ‘Wait, Tomo! Don’t say unnecessary things.’

Tsubasa: ‘…..?’

Ryuji: ‘…..They are just a thank you….. for always taking care of all kinds of….. Things for us…..!’

Tsubasa: ‘! Th-Thank you very much…..! That makes me happy.’

Ryuji: ‘Ngh! I mean, Tsubasa might as well also eat them! It's me who wanted to eat them, that’s the main point here!’

Tsubasa: ‘Yes! But I am still happy!’

Tomohisa (winks): ‘Fufufu, then shall we have a tea party today?’

END

______________________

* Simmered Taro in Sweetened Soy Sauce (里芋の煮っころがし・さといものにっころがし): This took me some time to find since it’s a specific dish. Ryuji only used 煮っころがし (Sweetened Soy Sauce) actually, but Google gave me videos and images of the Taro version. It sounds a bit strange to me to only use the soy sauce part, so I included the full name of the dish.

#b project #b-project #ryuji korekuni #ktkr #myps #card:2017

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

A Place To Call Home: Jensen’s Day

Summary: TJ approaches Jensen on how to best to handle the unexpected discovery of many of the reader’s childhood things. While the pair work out how to do that, Jensen spends some quality time with the other kids too...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 7,300ish

Warnings: language, angst, period talk, minor injury, fluffy dad Jensen

A/N: This part takes place in Jensen’s POV and after the TJ’s talk timestamp. Enjoy!

______

“Hey,” said a voice at the door. I jumped and looked over the top of the computer screen, TJ smirking. “I scare you?”

“Pft, no,” I said. I typed out the rest of the sentence, TJ wandering over to the leather chair in my office JJ normally used to read in. “I’m kinda in the middle of something. Can it wait?”

“Oh. Sorry,” he said as he went to stand. I waved him back down and shook my head.

“Read a book or something. I’ll be another few minutes,” I said. He turned his body back towards the bookcase, picking out one on homes. He flipped a few times and I glanced over at him, going back to the screen. I wrote out a few more lines and read it over, pretty satisfied with it. I set a reminder for myself to come back to it later and spun around in my chair. “So. What’s up?”

“What are you working on?” asked TJ as he flipped through the book still.

“Actor stuff,” I said.

“You always work on actor stuff with parchment paper next to you?” he asked. I looked over my shoulder and saw the paper and envelopes, TJ probably recognizing them. “Writing letters?”

“If you must know, yes, I am. I was. I prefer to handwrite them but I started this one on the road this week so I’ll write it down later,” I said. “So. What’s up?”

“Y/N started doing that, writing letters for the kids,” said TJ as he put the book back. “After the accident and all.”

“Yes, I know. What’s with the intrigue?” I asked.

“Well, you’re a sap. I needed some advice,” he said. I rolled my eyes and he cocked his head. “Oh yes. Clearly you’re a hardass.”

“Sometimes I miss the day you came over the first time and were scared shitless of me. Good times,” I said with a smile. I nodded and he got up to shut the door before taking a seat. “What are you up to?”

“Well...it’s complicated,” he said. “Like supernatural level complicated.”

“The show?” I asked and he shook his head. “TJ, buddy are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just…” he said. He reached into his back shorts pocket and pulled out a manila envelope. He handed it over and I opened it up, pulling out a few sheets of papers and photos. I recognized the face immediately, TJ sitting up on top of the desk. I smiled and TJ laughed. “You never seen baby pictures of Y/N?”

“No. We thought they were all lost. There were a few things from her parents we found but only a few boxes and her teddy bear. A few pictures but none of when she was little,” I said, smiling at the one of her in a onesie passed out asleep on her dad. “He looks young.”

“Her parents were older than you guys, right?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, a lot older. Just only ever saw them on that home video. Y/N had a picture once she said but some dickhead foster parent burned it,” I said. I pouted and felt TJ’s gaze on me.

“I get angry about stuff that happened to her too sometimes,” he said.

“Just don’t stay angry,” I said and he nodded. I turned my head at one of the sheets and went wide eyed. “Is this her birth certificate? How the Hell did you get this? It looks like the original.”

“It is. Long story short, I’m working on a renovation right now on the east side of town. Out in the suburbs, average home, nothing like this place or even ours to be honest. They needed an architect for like two days at most. Older couple. I got talking to them and we come to realize, I’m standing in Y/N’s old house.”

“What?”

“Yeah. It’s the one she grew up in. It’s her house,” he said.

“Small fucking world,” I said, leaning back in my seat. “I thought they ditched everything in the house after it went up for auction.”

“So did I. So did Y/N. Apparently, this couple packed up a lot of the personal stuff cause they felt wrong about throwing it out. They shoved it in some bins in the basement and forgot about it until this week. Jensen, I got bins full of photos and awards she won as a kid and stuff of her parents and did you know she was a ghostbuster for Halloween? I didn’t know that.”

“Neither did I,” I said. “Why not tell her you found this stuff?”

“Part of me is scared that she knew, that she didn’t want to deal with it. Maybe she wanted to shove it away. I don’t know. You know her as well as I do. What do you think?”

“I know she almost cried over a teddy bear when she was seventeen. I know when she saw that home video she almost cried. But I know both those times it was happy tears that would have happened. You know as well as I do this would mean the world to her.”

“I know it would which is why I need your help. How do we tell her?”

“Oh so you want to make a big elaborate thing out of it all I see.”

“I bet I could get at least your sappy letters level of waterworks,” he said.

“I’ve taught you well,” I laughed. “We’ll come up with something. Oh and I got something for you.”

I reached into a desk drawer and smiled as I pulled out an envelope. I held it out to him, TJ staring as he saw “Thomas James” written on the front.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Always keep an ace up your sleeve,” I said as I stood. I pushed it against his chest and walked past him. “It’s your first letter kid.”

“What?” he asked quietly. I turned around and smiled. “But I’m not…”

“Yeah, you are. Your dad’s a shithead and I don’t know when or if he’ll get his act together. Either way, you deserve better. I ain’t perfect. Not even close. But I do know you love your kids and for me that means all five of them. We don’t really care about blood relations around here if you haven’t picked up on that by now,” I said. He stared down at the letter and back at me. He nodded quietly and I laughed. “Read it in private and when you’re ready, we’ll figure out something for our girl.”

“Jensen. Why am I getting this now?” he asked as I reached to open the door.

“Cause you asked me for help on something that will bring my daughter joy. Cause you love her as much as the rest of us. Cause I felt like we’re at that place now where we can talk like this with no hesitation. Maybe cause you caught me writing letters and I was in a sappy mood. The letters aren’t always about a birthday or a wedding. Sometimes it’s just moments. Oh and you gotta work on your hand writing kid. Your kids are never gonna be able to read your chicken scratch.”

“I don’t…” he said as I smiled. “I tried writing one once and it sucked.”

“Considering your children can’t read yet, I think you got the time to figure it out,” I said. “Arrow and I are going golfing in a few. Wanna come?”

“I would but I have swim lessons with Allie. She’s getting pretty good. Y/N worries.”

“Never noticed,” I said. “Enjoy it. They’re only little once.”

“I will. Say hey to Arrow for me, Jensen.”

Two Hours Later

Arrow groaned as she sat down in the passenger seat of the cart. She took a swig from her water bottle and raised an eyebrow at me when she caught me staring.

“What?” she said, a little snippy.

“Can we try that nicer?” I asked. She rolled her eyes and sat back, crossing her arms. “Arrow, if you don’t want to golf with me today why’d you ask if we could go?”

“I thought we were going mini-golfing,” she said.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked. She shrugged and I turned in my seat. “Arrow…”

“You were like...excited about it and stuff,” she said. “It’s fine.”

“Well as good at this as you are, I’d much rather we go do something we both find fun. Okay, munchkin?”

She shrugged and I drove up the path, headed back to the clubhouse.

Twenty minutes later she was in the front seat of the car with her head against the window and eyes shut. I frowned and reached over to touch her forehead. It was warm and bit sweaty but she popped right up.

“What?” she snipped again. I looked at her for a moment before it clicked.

“Not feeling great?” I asked. She shook her head and I smiled. “Okay. I know just how to fix that.”

“Not something you can fix,” she mumbled.

“Oh, this I know how to fix. Trust me.”

“How’s that feel?” I asked when we were curled up on the couch in the TV room about half an hour later.

“Better,” she said, a light blush over her face as she held the heating pad to herself.

“We don’t gotta talk about it if you don’t want to,” I said.

“My friends dads don’t really talk to them about you know, periods,” she said with a wince.

“That’s too bad. They’d be able to make ‘em feel better if they did,” I said. “You’re already more of an expert on this than I am but your mom and older sisters say after the first year you really start getting the hang of what to expect and all that.”

“You can stop cramps?” she asked, happy for a moment.

“No, you can’t do that. But you learn what day it’s gonna happen and you learn what medicine works best for you, what makes you feel better best. Y/N got one of those heat pad stuffed animals for your sister. I hear heat helps.”

“Dad, this is kinda gross to talk about you know,” she said.

“Like I said, we don’t ever got to talk about it if you don’t want. Just...know you can.”

“I got that from when I got it and we had that talk. I don’t need it again,” she said. I held up my hands and returned my attention to the TV. “Dad. I’m sorry. That was mean.”

“S’okay. You got a lot going on right now inside you. I’ve lived with women a long time. I’m used to it at this point,” I said.

“Why does Zepp not have to deal with this?” she asked.

“Well...he also can’t make a baby. You got that on him.”

“A baby and cramps. Thanks genetics,” she said. I chuckled and she crawled over, using my leg as a pillow. “Why do you boys get everything? They get to not have periods and stuff.”

“The grass is always greener on the other side, kiddo. I’m sure some days, especially in the mornings, your brother would much rather be you right now,” he said.

“Huh?” she said.

“What grade do you take health class again?”

“Eighth,” she said.

“Oh. Okay. We’ll save that one. Better yet, you’ll find out when you’re thirty,” I said.

“Dad I know what sex is. Biology class. Make a baby,” she said. “Duh.”

“Oh really? Didn’t realize you were so grown up and all now,” I said, ruffling her hair. “What if you want to not make a baby?”

“They you don’t do it. Duh,” she said.

“Right, right. We’re gonna get you a book to explain all this to you,” I said, Arrow rolling her eyes. JJ wandered inside, hands behind her back, lifting up onto her tip toes. “I see someone wants to borrow the car.”

“Please? I’m just going over Tom’s,” she said.

“You’re going over the Pad’s to make out with your boyfriend you mean.”

“Tom is so not my boyfriend for the like, gazillionth time,” she said.

“Why you going to his junior prom then? As his date?”

“We’re just friends. Like, everybody does it,” she said. “I’m his best friend, like of course we’d go together.”

“What do you think? Is Tom just a friend?” I asked Arrow, a shit eating grin on her face.

“She doesn’t know-” said JJ, a loud crash happening somewhere in the house. I hopped up, the two of them following after.

“Zepp,” I called, jogging up the stairs. “Zeppelin.”

I rounder the corner into his room, spotting him on the floor, with a hand on his head. He looked away and I knelt down, putting a hand over his.

“Let me see,” I said. He winced and I pulled his hand back, spotting a gash on his forehead. “JJ, get me a towel please. Quickly.”

I heard her leave and I saw his desk chair flopped over on the ground.

“We told you not to stand on that thing, Zeppelin…” I said, seeing the spot of red on the corner of his desk.

“Sorry. It’s just a cut. I’m okay,” he said.

“I’m not mad, honey. Promise you won’t do it again?” I asked as JJ came back and handed me a towel.

“Yeah. Don’t have to worry about that,” he said. I put the towel against his head and looked at his eyes.

“Did you pass out?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “I’m okay.”

“I know you are tough guy. We’re still going to urgent care,” I said. “JJ tell Tom to come over here. It’s getting late and I don’t want Arrow home alone.”

“We’re not going with you?” she asked.

“Do you really want to go sit in a waiting room for a few hours?” I asked. I helped Zepp to his feet, glad when he didn’t stumble. She shrugged and I turned to Arrow. She looked worried and I pursed my lips. “Well if you want to come, let’s go. Otherwise, JJ stay with your sister.”

I walked out ahead of them, Zeppelin groaning when I took his arm to walk down beside him. I sighed and left them in the kitchen while I grabbed my phone and wallet.

“Alright,” I said. I shooed them out to the garage, the three of them piling in their usual spots. I put the radio on low as I drove, a call coming in quick on the dash. I pressed the button on the wheel and forced a happy voice. “Hi hon-”

“JJ just texted me that her brother hit his head and he’s gushing blood everywhere,” she said. I shot her a look in the passenger seat and she mouthed sorry. “Jensen.”

“De he is not gushing blood. He has a little cut. We’re driving to urgent care right now,” I said.

“Mom, I’m fine,” he said from the back.

“Were you standing on that chair again?” she asked.

“On the way home, we’ll stop at home depot, get a step ladder. Problem solved,” I said. “I don’t even think he has a concussion. We’re just being careful is all. Alright? How’s your parents?”

“Fine. I’m gonna head home early,” she said.

“De. We’re fine. I’ll let you know as soon as he gets checked out, okay? Nothing you can do in the meantime,” I said. “Say hi to your folks.”

“Jay are you sure…” she said.

“Honey. I am absolutely 100% positive. He is fine. I promise,” I said.

“Alright. I’ll talk to you guys later okay? Love you.”

“Love you too,” I said before I hung up.

“You’re totally freaking out on the inside,” said JJ.

“Thank you for texting your mother. Guess who’s not hanging out with Tom tonight now,” I said.

“When was I even gonna go?” she said, rolling her eyes.

“How you holding up back there bud?” I asked as I got on the highway.

“I’m fine for the millionth time,” he said.

“Mhm. Sure you are.”

Three Hours Later

“Hey doc,” I said as we finally were getting out of there with a small bandage on Zeppelin’s head and an ointment for the cut in my hand. “I mentioned to the nuse, he uh, he had a head injury when he was a toddler. It was a hard hit was all, no concussion or anything. They told us to watch out for more of them is all and I know it was just a smack to the head tonight but he’s okay, right?”

“He shows no signs of anything aside from a cut and some bruising. It doesn’t warrant an MRI,” he said.

“I know. I just…” I said, trailing off when I saw Y/N’s friend Kelly walk by in the background. “Kelly.”

“Mr. Ackles! Everything okay?” she asked.

“Zepp hit his head tonight,” I said.

“You do an MRI?” she asked the other doctor. He seemed a little miffed but shoved the chart in her hands and she rolled her eyes as he left. “He’s kind of an asshole, don’t take offense.”

“None taken,” I said. “They said he’s fine but...you know.”

“Send the little shrimp back here and I’ll take care of him,” she said.

“I always knew I liked you,” I said. I got Zeppelin from the waiting room and she sent him off for a quick scan, letting me wait in the hall just outside. “Y/N said you were going for pediatrics if I remember?”

“Yeah. Kids are less of complainers than adults typically,” she said. “How’s Y/N? We haven’t hung out in a bit. Her babies still adorable?”

“Like always,” I said. I smiled and she looked a little a bashful. “It’s okay that you watched my show, Kelly. I’ve always known.”

“Really?” she asked, pursing her lips. “Y/N promised she wouldn’t ever tell you.”

“Oh she didn’t. The you saying holy fucking shit to Y/N when you saw me in the backyard for the first time kind of gave it away,” I said.

“Yeah, subtly isn't really my strong suit,” she said. I chuckled and she shrugged. “To be fair, like all of our friends think you’re the hot dad.”

“I know. It’s great to tease Y/N with,” I said. “Mind if I ask you a question while we’re waiting.”

“Shoot,” she said.

“Y/N. Why were you her friend? You know that’s a hard shell to crack. She doesn’t have a lot of them and most of those are TJ’s. Nothing wrong with that. Just wonder what made you say hi to the new girl at school.”

“This isn’t going to sound great but basically I had this ex boyfriend. He was like a dick once I told him I wasn’t ready to like, you know, do it yet and we broke off and like six months go by and then I had my new boyfriend at the time but this old ex was still like a super dickhead to pretty much every girl in school that wasn’t super popular. He was...he bullied her the first few days.”

“I never knew that,” I said.

“It was only a couple days. By the third day, she was fed up with it and snapped back at him. He didn’t like that so he shoved her and I just walked over and told him to back off of her. She just looked so...not scared but like, defeated you know?”

“Unfortunately yes, I do.”

“I guess we just talked about how much of a dick he was and we sat together at lunch and she eventually warmed up to me by the time we graduated.”

“She liked you before that. Trust me,” I said. “You’re a good kid. You’re gonna be a good doctor.”

“I hope so,” she said.

“So super fan. I gotta ask cause I also love to torture my children’s friends. Sam girl or the other one?” I said, giving her a smirk.

“I’m not answering that,” she said.

“In a way you did,” I chuckled. “Shoot Y/N a text sometime. We’ll get you hooked up with some con tickets sometime.”

“That’d be so cool!” she said. “If it’s no trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” I said as the door opened and Zepp came out. “How’d it go?”

“No bleeding,” said the tech that walked out and handed a slide to Kelly. She walked over to a wall and stuck it up to a light, nodding her head.

“He’s good. You guys are all set,” she said.

“Thanks Kelly.”

“I want pizza,” said Arrow about five minutes later as I texted De that everything was good from the truck.

“I want tacos,” said Zeppelin.

“I want pasta,” said JJ, looking at me. “What’s for dinner?”

“Well since we all agree it’s so simple,” I said with a chuckle. “How about cause at least two of you have felt crappy today we splurge a little and don’t tell mom.”

“Like what?” asked JJ.

“We will get italian food and tacos and the most unhealthy dessert we can find on the menu,” I said. “Eat whatever you want tonight.”

“Don’t we do that always?” asked Arrow.

“Yeah but dad’s a on a diet,” said JJ. I rolled my eyes and she held up her hands.

“I wasn’t on a diet. I had a cholesterol test and didn’t want to get yelled at by the doctor thank you very much,” I said. “But that was yesterday and I’m a free man now. We can go home and have leftover chicken salad if that’s what you guys want.”

“Not at all what we said, right guys?” said JJ.

“That’s what I thought you’d say. Seatbelts and someone look up some menus on their phones.”

One Hour Later

JJ burped from her seat, Arrow letting out one herself, the pair of them giggling as they dug into their desserts. Zeppelin shockingly didn’t want his so I saved it in the freezer for later. I figured the pain meds they’d given him had finally kicked in. I was cleaning up at the sink, the girls in the movie room when he came up behind me and gave me a hug.

“Feel any better?” I asked. I spun around and returned it, a little surprised when he snuggled into my chest. I ran my hand over his head and he took a deep breath.

“I’m really tired, dad,” he said.

“That’s the medicine they gave you. How about an early bedtime tonight and you’ll wake up feeling a lot better in the morning.”

“Okay,” he said, still not moving.

“Alright, alright,” I said. I moved back and squatted down, hoisting him up, legs wrapping around my back. “You better not be taller than me or else this is gonna get real difficult once you hit your growth spurt.”

“Okay,” he mumbled, resting his head on my shoulder.

“I gotcha,” I said. I got him upstairs and set him down on his bed, Zeppelin out by the time I tugged his covers down. I pulled them up over top and kissed his head. “Night kiddo.”

I turned off the lights and went downstairs, tidying up and pouring myself a glass of whiskey. It burned a bit but the good kind, not too overwhelming. I was about to head to the movie room when I caught something on the floor. I picked up the note and smiled.

DAD CHECK FRIDGE

“Well what did you leave us,” I said to myself, opening it up. There was a casserole dish with a note taped to it and I pulled it out.

Made an extra serving of chicken penne (tons of cheese for you). Just stick in the oven and I figure you four can survive another day without mom. Tell Zepp to stop trying to crack his skull open while you’re at it. Love ya. - Y/N

“What would we do without you and your mother,” I chuckled. I heard someone calling my name and I poured more whiskey into my drink. “Please don’t be twilight again. Please please don’t be that again.”

I carried the glass over to the tv room, the girls bundled up on either side of the couch. I didn’t make a face when I saw the sparkly vampire on the screen and was pretty proud of myself. They both started to laugh and I shook my head.

“Dad we know you hate it,” said JJ. “We wanna watch one of your movies.”

“Well well, tonight is a good time to introduce you two to a little movie called Tommy Boy.”

“Night giggles,” I said, the girls heading up to bed after the movie. I stretched out and went to my room, going out on the balcony and taking a seat outside, closing my eyes as I leaned back. “So. Got another question for you guys if you’re in the mood for listening tonight. TJ found some photos and some of your guys stuff. Not quite sure what the best way to give it to her is though. I feel like some fanfare should be involved. Nothing crazy but you know, make it special. Any genius ideas and I’d love to hear them.”

I took a sip from my drink, a light breeze in the night air.

“Someday I’d appreciate it if I got a little more feedback. Just saying,” I said. “She was a cute kid. Still cute but you know what I mean. Just want to get this one right.”

I sat outside for a while, texting for a bit until I got a bit too cold. I locked up and walked around the house, arming the security system before I climbed into bed. I groaned as I plopped down, barely getting my phone on the charger before I was curling up to sleep. My eyes wandered over to the phone when a text from TJ popped up.

Read the letter. Thanks. Means more than you know. Honestly.

Just don’t forget what I said, k? Night TJ

Night Jensen

“Now if only the other three could find ones like that, then we’d be pretty damn lucky,” I said to myself. I chuckled when I saw one last text pop up. I rolled over in bed to De’s side and used her pillow, snuggling down into it. Three more days and she’d be home again to help stop the crazy. Or at least slow it down.

The Next Day

“Alright so I came up with the perfect way to do it last night,” said TJ as he walked into the gym where I was running on the treadmill.

“I hope you knew how to do it before considering you have a child or else this is going to be very awkward.”

“Smartass,” he said.

“One of my best qualities,” I said as I hopped off. “Hit me with it.”

“A letter,” he said with a smile.

“You want to write her one go right ahead but…” I said with a shrug. “It’s definitely important but it’s not a letter kind of thing for me.”

“You literally write sappy letters for your children’s life changing events all the time.”

“TJ. I didn’t make these things or buy them for her. Her parents took those pictures. I can’t write a letter. It’s not my gift to give.”

“It’s not a gift though. It’s-”

“TJ, I’m not writing one. You don’t force that shit. Not the important shit. You should write her a letter and tell her how you found the stuff. That’d be really sweet.”

“So you don’t want to be involved in this now,” he said. I took a deep breath and stared at him. “I’m just trying to understand why you’re changing your mind.”

“I’m not her dad, TJ,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. “I’m not the guy in those photos. It feels awkward if I did that. Those are her memories. You found them. This is totally your thing. You do whatever you want or I’ll help but I’m not writing her a letter, alright?”

He scoffed and I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes.

“TJ. Enough.”

“You’re so fucking stupid. For someone really smart you’re an idiot, Jensen,” he said as he turned to leave.

“Excuse me but why don’t you say what you have to say to my face,” I said. He stopped and turned around, walking over to me, his jaw clenched. “What.”

“If she ever heard those words out of your mouth, it’d destroy her. You literally do not understand how important you are to her you idiot.”

“I understand perfectly well how-” I said before TJ audibly growled. A part of me was happy for a moment at that reaction. Obviously he was pissed and trying to do something to benefit Y/N. For the most part though I had no clue what he was talking about. “Clearly I don’t understand what this is about so-”

“You fought for her, Jensen. I wasn’t there but I know how it was when she came to this house. She ran away. She didn’t want to be here. But you made her a promise, that you cared. No one cared about her for years. I don’t think even you know how deep that hole inside of her was. None of us do. But she tried because you were so damn adamant. Everyday it terrified her. Until it didn’t. Until you got from that first day to now. Jensen you ever tell her you’re not her father to her face and I’ll kick your fucking ass.”

I blinked a few times and frowned, opening my mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“You are her father. She had two. That’s all there is to it. If you think you’re second place or that she loves you any less, you haven’t been paying attention good enough. There is no dad that raised her and dad that adopted her. It’s just dad to her, that’s it. Why don’t you stop being the scared one for once, take a page out of her book and put some fucking trust in your daughter that she loves you just as much as her first father. Understand that?”

I swallowed and nodded, walking out the side door and to the backyard. I walked down to the dock and took a seat, closing my eyes as I exhaled.

“Jensen,” said TJ behind me.

“I got the message kid,” I said.

“I’m sorry for...I just don’t understand why you’re afraid of believing her. What she’s saying isn’t a bad thing.”

“No,” I said as he took a seat beside me. “But I don’t want to wipe away who he was or who her mom was either. I am her second father. I didn’t get unconditional love off the bat like you do with your own children. I guess part of me is afraid she’ll decide it’s conditional again one day.”

“Do you get why I called you stupid?” he asked.

“TJ, I know how I have always felt but it wasn’t like that for her. That’s okay. But I can’t…” I shrugged.

“Can’t trust that she won’t hurt you and say it’s conditional again?”

“Exactly.”

“Funny. A seventeen year old girl found a way to trust you. You’re fifty one and you should know better than her.”

“I’m older and bigger and stronger but I’m not tougher. She had the hard job all along. Just don’t know if she knew that.”

“You know...I know some of the nitty gritty details about the accident. Y/N told me a month back. She didn’t want to but I needed to know, for myself.”

“Did she now,” I said, looking out at the water, watching as a boat went past.

“I know you’re alive because of her. I know you two fought pretty good during it all. I know she screamed at you that she wasn’t leaving you. The girl kept you alive when you should have died. I don’t know what more she has to do to prove to you that there is nothing you could do to make her not love you unconditionally. So suck it up and own that you’re her dad. Write a fucking letter, don’t write a fucking letter. Just stop being scared of her hurting you. She stopped being afraid of you a long time ago.”

“I thought you were kinda nerdy when we first met,” I said. “That was the first time Y/N called me dad actually.”

“You’re a nerd,” he said and I smiled.

“You are as kind and gentle and as much of a best friend to her as I could ever hope for. I love you kid. But I’ve never seen you mad like that. Wasn’t sure if you were capable of it. Now I know you will do anything for her, even jeopardize a relationship with me, one you need in your life too.”

“I care about you but nothing will ever be more important to me than her and my children.”

“I will think about writing a letter,” I said. He nodded and I returned it. “For the record, you so couldn’t kick my ass.”

“I could still try,” he said.

“I suppose you could. Let’s not ever test it out,” I said. He hummed and I stood up. “Thanks kiddo. Always get a little wrapped up when it comes to her for some reason.”

“Not a bad thing,” he said.

“Can’t wait to see you freaking out over your daughter. Ah, that’ll be nice. Let’s have this chat when she’s sixteen.”

“Your daughter is sixteen,” he said with a smirk.

“Shut up. I don’t even want to think about whatever she gets up to with that boy,” I said.

“Just fyi, she’s a smart, innocent kid. Like innocent innocent. She talks to her sister. You’re good.”

“I’m totally not gonna shove you in the water now for that,” I said. “Come on. You can help me wash the cars.”

“What? Why?” he groaned.

“That’s what you get for coming in like a hothead. Come on. I might even let you drive Baby when we’re done.”

Later That Night

I’d just sat down with a sheet of paper and pen when I got a text from Y/N, tons of pictures of her from when she was little coming in.

OMG. TJ found these at my old house. Can you believe it! We’re gonna make copies of everything for you and mom.

I smiled and sat back, scrolling through them for a few minutes.

That’s awesome! We’ll take whatever we can get. You were pretty cute, tall munchkin.

I got in another bunch of pictures, stopping at a set in a frame. There was a black and white one of her and her dad from when she was little the two of them looking straight at the camera and laughing, a bit of ice cream stuck on Y/N’s nose. The one on the far right was one of us in a very similar pose after a day on the lake, Y/N cracking up. The center one was a little less crisp but it was easy enough to see that TJ had gotten a picture from the home video with me and her parents, this one of me and her dad giving each other a smile as a very small Y/N was passed between us.

TJ made this up for me. Isn’t it so cool? I love it so freaking much. It’s perfect.

“Yeah it is,” I said. I wrote back and wiped off my face with the back of my hand, JJ standing there in the doorway when I moved my hand back. She walked over and gave me a hug and I showed her the photos, a big smile crossing her face.

“That’s so cool. Y/N’s dad was a dork like you,” she said.

“I’m Y/N’s dad ya dork,” I said, pulling her into a noogie. She laughed and plopped down on my knee, scrolling through my phone. I gave her a hug, JJ looking through the phone for a few minutes.

“Dad. Why were you crying?”

“Got a little emotional for a second is all,” I said. “Sometimes I forget that I make her smile as much as her other dad did.”

“I like this one,” she said, turning the phone around, showing another one from the airport but not something I recognized from the tape. I vaguely recalled something to do with a bear and scratched my head.

“Uh oh,” I said as I glanced over at the main corridor. There was a teddy bear on the ground, not too far off from where I’d found that little girl a few minutes earlier. “Tell mom I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Don’t miss the flight doofus,” said my sister and I rolled my eyes as I stood up.

“Loser,” I said before I walked over and picked up the bear. I looked down at the other gates, knowing Y/N’s family had taken off that way. I started walking, trying to look around but these were big flights and there were a million people everywhere.

I pursed my lips and kept going, looking all around before I felt something hugging the back of my leg.

“Hi Jay!” said Y/N, looking up at me as I spun around. I saw her mom shaking her head as her dad stood up and walked over.

“What’d we say about you staying with your parents?” I laughed. I held out the bear and she immediately looked relieved.

“You found Teddy! Daddy Jay found Teddy!” she said as she hopped up and down, squeezing the thing for dear life.

“Finding the bear might have been an even bigger crisis averted than before,” chuckled her dad. “I guess we Y/L/N’s owe you one.”

“I just saw it and figured it was hers. She’s having a rough day,” I said, glancing down as she beamed up at me.

“Oh yeah, clearly,” he chuckled. “You in college yet?”

“Uh no sir. I just graduated highschool. I might go in the winter if my plans don’t work out,” I said.

“Nothing wrong with manual work for a living.”

“I’m gonna try and be an actor,” I said.

“Any good?”

“No idea.”

“Well, you better let me get a picture of you and the kiddo for if you make it big someday. We can say we knew you were before you were famous,” he said.

“I’d settle for not flopping on my face,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Come on you two,” he said, pulling out a disposable camera. I squatted down and Y/N gave me a hug. He took a few and laughed as I stood up. “I do not know what it is about you she’s so in love with. She’s normally quite shy around strangers.”

“Me too,” I said. “Hey munchkin. Do me a favor and stay with your parents for me? Please?”

“Okie dokie,” she said, skipping back over to her mom.

“Thanks for the bear and finding her, kid,” he said as I started to go. “I hope that acting thing works out for you. If it doesn’t, consider doing something with kids. You’re great with ‘em.”

“I don’t think I could handle more than whatever I end up making myself,” I said. “And maybe a kid like yours. She’s pretty easy going.”

“You got a long time ahead of you before you get there. Have a safe flight back, Jensen.”

“You too, Mr. Y/L/N.”

“Dad, hello,” said JJ, her hand waving in front of my face. I blinked and shook my head, smiling at the picture. “What’s that from?”

“I found her bear, gave it back to her.”

“How old were you?” she asked.

“Oh, only a few years older than you,” I said. “Still just a kid.”

“You should hang it up with our little kid pictures,” she said.

“I think I just might,” I said. “It never bothered you, us bringing your sister here, did it? You were young at the time and I knew we had a few rough first weeks but I mean even as you got older. You never felt like mom and I didn’t care about you guys as much right?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “We got a big sister. It’s nice having one of those. We just wanted her to be happy I think. She tells me more stuff now that I’m older. I literally can’t imagine living her life. I just can’t. It sounds terrifying.”

“Only a part was. We gave her a family back, including you,” I said. I booped her nose and she smiled. “So. What are your plans tonight? Hang out with the Pad boys?”

“Nah. They’re doing something with Cody tonight. I thought we could hang out if you’re not going anywhere,” she said.

“No, no plans for me tonight. Why don’t you go round up the other two and we’ll go play some minigolf. How’s that sound?”

“Okie dokie,” she said. I smiled and she left the room. I picked up my phone and shoved it in my pocket, stretching as I stood up. I leaned over to my desk drawer and put the paper and pen back inside, a few envelopes with letters already in there. She popped back into view and I closed it up.

“All set?”

“Mhm. Are we taking your truck?”

“Let’s take Baby out,” I said, walking around the desk. “After you, kiddo.”

_______

A/N: Read the Halloween timestamp here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen x daughter!reader #rpf #au #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #jensen x reader #jensen fanfiction #spn series #supernatural series

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mellometal · 3 years

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Is it time to tear ANOTHER Dhar Mann video to shreds? YOU BET.

I've been sitting on this one for a bit because I wanted to make sure I talk about this tactfully. The subject of parents abandoning their disabled children is a very touchy one.

Parents abandoning their disabled children simply for being disabled is way too common. Like, I understand that not everyone has the resources to care for a disabled child (which is why you reach out for help, and why people like me, who work with disabled people, exist), but it doesn't mean you just walk out of their life. There are exceptions, like if you truly didn't want children or something like that, but just flat-out walking out of your kid's life BECAUSE they're disabled is fucked up.

I know someone personally whose biological mother abandoned her when she was born. Why? Because she's disabled. Physically, and mentally, to a point. I work with this woman on a daily basis. I don't really know WHY exactly her biological mother abandoned her, but I do know that her being disabled was part of it. It's sad. It doesn't affect her, thankfully. I'm happy that she's got her biological dad, her brother, and another maternal figure in her life, at least.

ANYWAYS. Before we get to the topic at hand, I need to put an obligatory trigger warning, like I do with EVERY Dhar Mann post:

This post will be talking about parents abandoning their disabled children simply for being disabled, treating disabilities like they're tragedies (in this case, we're talking about autism...again), divorce, and some SPICY ableist bullshit from an allistic (nonautistic) PIECE OF SHIT.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable in any way, you don't have to read this post. This isn't worth putting yourself in a bad state mentally. I would never ask for any of you to put yourselves in that position all for a post. Put your mental health and well-being first. Consume media that sparks joy for you.

As far as my response goes, it's definitely more calm than normal. Funny....since this video is about autism spectrum disorder again. (Third time's the charm, huh, Dhar Mann? NOT.)

LET'S FUCKING GET IT.

The video starts off with these two parents (Gwen and Allen) in a psychologist's office. The psychologist tells the parents that their son (Chance) is autistic, and she tries to explain what autism is to the parents, but Allen cuts her off. Why? Because he teaches at a prestigious university, so he AUTOMATICALLY knows what autism is from that fact alone.

Um, excuse me? Just because you're a teacher at a prestigious university, it doesn't mean you're an expert in everything. It doesn't make you an expert in ASD or anything like that. Unless you SPECIALIZE in that area. Even then, shut the fuck up. The people who know about being autistic are AUTISTIC PEOPLE THEMSELVES! SHOCKER.

Hey, Dhar Mann! QUIT WITH THE VIDEOS ABOUT AUTISTIC LITTLE WHITE BOYS AND YOUNG WHITE AUTISTIC CISHET MEN! I'M SICK AND TIRED OF IT. It's annoying, ignorant, and it feels like you're doing this on purpose at this point to piss people off. If you're so uninformed about autism in women and girls, FUCKING ASK AUTISTIC WOMEN AND GIRLS! DO BETTER RESEARCH THAT DOESN'T INVOLVE AUTISM SPEAKS. The Autism Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and the Autistic Women and Nonbinary People Network (AWN) are great organizations to go to for any kind of research on ASD in women and girls. STOP GOING OFF OF THE BRAINS OF AUTISTIC WHITE BOYS AND AUTISTIC WHITE MEN.

I don't feel I need to go too deep into the fact that autistic women, autistic girls, autistic nonbinary people, autistic BIPOC, autistic AAPI, autistic LGBT people, autistic teenagers, and autistic adults exist. Y'all already know.

Gwen asks the psychologist if that means Chance isn't healthy. (I understand not knowing about autism, but don't treat it like it's a terminal illness. Please.) The psychologist tells her that Chance is fine, but he just learns differently and might need more support compared to his peers.

Yeah, autism can affect how you learn about certain things (limited and repetitive patterns), but there are other disabilities that can affect learning as well. Like how dyslexia can affect your ability to read, dyspraxia can affect your ability to do math, and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) can affect your ability to focus or on impulse control. Autism affects how your brain is developed, it affects you socially, behaviorally, and how you communicate.

Allen is upset, says that he can't have a son "with a learning disability" (ASD is a neurological disability, not necessarily a learning disability), and treats Chance like he's stupid for being autistic. Gwen tells her husband that autism doesn't make you any less intelligent, WHICH IS SO FUCKING TRUE. ABSOLUTE FACTS. I was totally with her until she began that little monologue with "Just because a person HAS autism". SAY "JUST BECAUSE A PERSON'S AUTISTIC" INSTEAD! IT'S NOT HARD. PERSON FIRST LANGUAGE ISN'T WHAT EVERY DISABLED PERSON PREFERS. Allen says that "they could have another kid" and "put Chance up for adoption". Gwen obviously wasn't down with that. Allen gives his wife an ultimatum that it's either HIM or their son Chance. Gwen says that she can't choose between the two, but she will stand by her autistic son. Allen gets up and leaves the office, saying he wants a divorce.

Years pass by, Gwen is single and taking care of her autistic son Chance, and Allen has a new life with a ✨perfect son✨ (Samuel). He never mentions the son HE abandoned (Chance). He's completely forgotten about Gwen and Chance. (YOU OWE SO MUCH CHILD SUPPORT, ALLEN.)

Hey, Allen, how much do you wanna bet that your ✨perfect son✨ Samuel is autistic too?

There's the SATs, they're announcing a winner, and guess who it is? IT'S OBVIOUSLY CHANCE, OF COURSE. He's got the highest score in the country, with Samuel in second place. Allen is PISSED.

Chance gives a speech about how his mom really helped him, he struggled with autism, how Allen LITERALLY ABANDONED HIM, and THE CROWD GOES FUCKING WILD. Samuel, instead of being a sore loser, APPLAUDS FOR CHANCE. Stay humble, Sam.

My thoughts on the video? If you cannot tell by my tone throughout this post, IT WAS DOG SHIT. This video was insensitive to the true reality of parents abandoning their disabled children just because they're disabled. What do I expect from Dhar Mann at this point?

Here's my response to his video below. Don't worry, I will fully type out my response soon for anyone who cannot read the screenshots easily. It's a lot easier for me to do that on the desktop site than it is for me to do it on my phone.

For anyone who can’t read my response, I’m typing it out for you. Like I said, it’s easier for me to type it out on the desktop site than it is for me to type it out on my phone. It’s a real royal pain in the ass. But because I’m trying to make my posts easier to read for people, I’m doing this anyway. /lighthearted

First, second, and third screenshots (broken up into paragraphs):

Hey, listen, I appreciate the message you’re trying to go for, but can you please stop putting autistic people into a box? Can you stop treating being autistic like it’s a tragedy? Not every single autistic person is a little white boy in elementary school who’s considered “wild and unruly” or “super quiet and makes no friends”, nor are they a young white cishet man who’s a super genius or is how Chris Chan was before she came out as trans. (For anyone who doesn’t know about Chris Chan, there are many documentaries people have made on YouTube, and I highly recommend Geno Samuel’s docuseries, if you’re really interested in learning about Chris Chan.)

Autistic women, girls, nonbinary people, BIPOC, APPI, LGBT people, teenagers, and adults all exist too.

It’s very apparent now that you get your resources from Autism $peaks, a hate group that spends the vast majority of their money on funding eugenics instead of helping autistic people like they claim, claims that only little white boys and young white cishet men are autistic and ignores all other autistic people who don’t fit that description, have no autistic people on their leader board or on any board for that matter, have members who have actually fantasized about k1lling their autistic children, treat autism like it’s a tragedy or a disease someone can catch (completely false), act like autism should be cured (there is no cure, and ABA therapy is a total shit show in itself), and treats autistic people like they’re broken and need to be fixed. Also, not every autistic person is a Super Genius(tm). That’s so demeaning to autistic people who aren’t seen as intelligent in any way. I’m autistic and seen as smart; however, there are subjects I’m stronger in than others.

If you can’t handle the possibility of having autistic children, or just disabled children in general, DON’T HAVE CHILDREN. If you can’t handle working with or alongside disabled people, including autistic people, maybe find a different profession. Even if you do that, you’ll never get away from disabled people. Disabled people aren’t a disease. We’re human beings just like neurotypical and able-bodied people.

Fourth and fifth screenshots (broken up into paragraphs):

I would highly suggest getting resources from reputable organizations for ASD, such as the Autism Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and the Autistic Women and Nonbinary People Network (AWN). Talk to any autistic person who isn’t a little white boy or a young white cishet man.

Instead of using the puzzle piece, which is a symbol that many autistic people, myself included, are offended by (because of Autism $peaks and other organizations before them using it, plus it symbolizes that only autistic children exist and that we’re “missing a piece” like we’re broken), use the rainbow infinity sign (for all neurodivergent people) or the red and gold infinity sign (just for autistic people). Instead of “lighting it up blue”, light it up red or gold. Do both if you want.

I’m actually really sick and tired of seeing just autistic little white boys and young autistic white cishet men being represented in the media, and y’all manage to fuck that up too.

Before anyone mentions Sia’s movie “Music”, that’s also very poor representation of autistic girls. Besides, the actress who played the autistic girl isn’t even autistic. She MOCKED autistic people. I know she’s a kid, but that’s still super fucked up. I hope she’s able to turn that around.

If anyone would like to discuss this topic with me or ask any questions, feel free to. I’ll answer as best as I can. Thank you and have a good night.

Before I get attacked for mentioning Chris Chan in my response, I bring up Chris Chan because allistic people think that every autistic person is like her (especially before she came out as trans). That person is part of why I wasn't open about being autistic or talking about my diagnosis until this year. I didn't want to be grouped up with Chris Chan because I do have very similar interests to her, I've been seen as cringey for having said interests, and just the way Chris treated autistic people who were formerly diagnosed with A$p3rg3r$ $yndr0m3 (like I was) really made me feel even more alienated.

Also, S1a supports A$ (Autism $p3aks). She's not a very good person to support. Some of her music is good, but her as a person....no. Her movie "Music" was gross, from what I've read about it and seen pictures of.

If you've read this far, thank you so much!

#mello speaks #dhar mann #dhar mann talk #dhar mann will live to regret his decision to make these fucked up cringe videos #dhar mann will live to regret his decision uwu #dhar mann is a piece of human garbage #please stop supporting dhar mann #autism isn't a tragedy #we need better representation for autistic people who aren't little white boys or young white cishet men #dhar mann is a cringe ass nae nae baby #tw abandonment #tw ableism #cw sia mention #cw chris chan mention #tw dhar mann

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bangteamhyuk · 3 years

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In This Rain

Genre: Mafia (AU), Action, Suspense/Thriller, Smut

Mature content

Word Count: 4,962k

Characters: Police Captain!Namjoon, Police Officer! Reader, Mafia Boss! Jungkook.

Warning: mentions of drug use, graphic violence, language, oral sex, penetrative sex, implied dom!reader, emotional manipulation, mention of psychopathic characters, implied torture

Synopsis: You admire your captain, your beloved Capt. Kim Namjoon. You admire him so much that you wanted to be by his side always, well, quite literally. Under his office desk, inside his apartment, on his bed and even on his dangerous mission against a vicious Mafia leader named Jeon Jungkook.

He’s been so obsessed in Jungkook, his formidable enemy on his entire career, that he’s been trying to apprehend him for years. Until both of you uncovered an unsettling truth as to why he always slithers: there’s a mole within your department.

Namjoon kicked the door hard with his combat boots, took cover immediately from the wall behind him, before aiming his gun to the direction of the open entryway.

“Freeze!” he shouted.

Yet he was the one that was left frozen at the scene. Two men, thin as a stick, were staring blankly at the ceiling. Clearly passed out with rubbers wrapped around their arms, old scabs and fresh jabs on their skin. Several discarded needles were left lying on the floor.

They look so oblivious from the presence of Namjoon and his team that you can’t help but call him out “Namjoon, I think we’re late” you shook your head, as you watched their cold and drugged out bodies sitting on a plastic chair, heads resting on the air.

“We are, they’re both dead” Hoseok said after checking their pulse. He stared at them for a moment, as if saying a prayer as he shuts their eyes gently with his finger.

Namjoon walked around the room and picked a used foil and a paper with logo of a lotus flower “Jungkook…” he mumbled to himself as he crumpled the paper and threw it on the floor in fury.

“Are you sure it’s him?” you went to pick it up and checked. It was definitely the symbol of his organized syndicate.

“Positive” Namjoon’s blood suddenly rushed in and felt nauseous at the thought, as he shut his eyes, hoping that he was wrong about it.

“It was a close one...” Hoseok rummaged through the pockets of the two men, but he found none.

“I was so sure, they’ll be here. Him and his men. But why does it look like they knew... You think” you shut your eyes and gasped, realizing what Namjoon might have just thought of earlier. “there’s a mole within the Department?” you continued, slowly turning around to see Namjoon’s reaction. His face turned grim and just weakly nodded.

“I trust that you two would keep this a secret, until we find who it is…” Namjoon swore. It wasn’t about money or his ego any longer, he wanted to end this. For years. Whatever this was, he wanted to stop people from dying, stop wasting innocent lives, end the fear of women and children always being on the brink of death.

“Roger” Hoseok nodded.

“Roger, Captain!” you blinked and stood up. You and Hoseok tapped Namjoon’s shoulder, assuring him that you two were on his side. Always on his side.

You and Hoseok stood behind closed doors, but it was very apparent that the chiefs and the Department heads were clearly upset at the result of your team’s recent mission.

“Goddamit! We told you to think things through Kim and you blew it! You got one shot! One fucking shot, and you didn’t even get to meet a single strand of his hair!” the deputy chief exclaimed.

“What a waste of the city tax, really, you haven’t given us any valuable result” the Department head, fixed his paper and put everything inside his briefcase.

Namjoon just stood there, taking every thing silently. He was called names before, been spatted, got hit, everything. He’s the man who’s been through all horrible things and yet he still took it in. No wonder why you’ve like this guy, there’s something incredibly attractive about an underdog filled with potentials. It’s as if you’re hearing a club of hyenas around a lion, waiting for it to roar. He was the kind of leader you want to solemnly swear your loyalty, and that was the reason why you were there.

After the sham meeting, you and Hoseok just followed Namjoon towards your office room. He was clearly angry and frustrated, as well. But more than that he was determined to find another chance to get close to Jungkook . Namjoon went to his desk silently, and studied recent reports and profiles of people on his desk, piled and unkept.

Hoseok, feeling unnecessarily guilty, excused himself to get the team sandwiches from a nearby store.

You on the other hand, had something in mind to ease Namjoon’s frustration. “Hey there” you whispered on his ear. “Not here, Y/N. Not today” his eyes still concentrated on the screen. You gently pressed his shoulders, unbothered at his plea and made gentle circular motion, caressing his stiff shoulder blades. You slowly crouched down to kiss his ears and traced it down his neck. “You know what reminds me of your stiffness?” you chuckled.

“I said stop!” his quick reflex surprised you, as he held on to your wrist. His eyes stern, full of resolved. You stood up, and knew that he wasn’t up for any games.

“I just heard everything from the meeting. It’s hard to miss.” You folded your arms, as you watched him turn his back on you again and type disordered words on his screen. “Try, typing Gwangjin-gu, April 16…” you reached out for his hands to guide his finger from each letter on the keyboard, as he suddenly groaned softly to the sensation of your warm hands.

You smirked, seeing him freeze for a second. You crouched back down again and slowly reached for his legs hiding underneath his desk. “You know, it takes Hoseok about half an hour to get back? No one’s around. I’m sure you needed to let loose of that tension” you spoke softly, while caressing his legs. He slowly turned around from his seat and opened his legs.

“Give me 10 minutes tops, Captain” you smirked as you knelt down, and unclasped his belt.

Namjoon just stared at you blankly for a second, thoughtless and unsure. But as soon as he felt the warmth that you give right in the middle of his legs, he cursed and responded in pure ecstasy. You watched him toss his head and covered his mouth, trying not to cry out your name, but you love it. You love seeing your beloved Captain, the one people look up with so much pride and respect, becomes susceptible to your touch.

You were lounging in the smoking area during your break time, even though you aren’t smoker. You just like being outside, on a bench, and beside a vending coffee machine where you could refill your own cup.

“Hm, Sun Tzu’s Art of War” you heard Namjoon’s voice from behind. You nodded in agreement, as you finished the last line of the page and flipped it to the next.

“Read this about 9 times, still holds true” you replied, not leaving your gaze towards the book.

“I got a lead” he pulled out his cup from the vending machine and scoot beside you on the bench. You closed your book and turned to face him. Namjoon peered behind you, and looked around before he dropped the name “Seokjin”. You squint your eyes, trying to figure out how Namjoon arrived at his conclusion.

“You mean Kim Seokjin from the Hi-tech Crime Unit?” you spoke softly towards him, making sure no one hears even when it was only the two of you in the area.

He nodded, grinning. “I always wonder how he received information about them, everyone in his unit is as competent as he is but he would always get the best lead”

You smiled, finally beginning to piece things together. “It does seem odd Namjoon. It doesn’t make sense, but it does seem bizarre? How does he get those information?” you stared at Namjoon and smirked “I never thought of that, Captain. As always, that’s pretty smart of you to---”

“Y/N!” you heard someone call.

“Speak of the devil” you smiled at Namjoon then at Seokjin.

“Meet you after office hours?” Seokjin ran up to you, handing you a bag of sandwich. Namjoon tilt his head in confusion.

“Yeah sure” you blushed, turning your head to the floor at Seokjin’s sweet gesture.

“Y/N, are you…. Are you two going out? Since when?” Namjoon stood up, puzzled at the scenario. Clearly, you have left him out of the picture, but it’s not like you owe him anything. Besides weren’t you two clear about the position you two are in? Just colleagues trying to help each other out? Out of convenience?

“Kind of like that. Well, you never asked about our private lives, Cap” you chuckled. Not that he doesn’t care, but you know how much he respects his colleague’s personal space. Well, except on some occasion when you two needed to satisfy each other’s need. “Give me a minute, I just need to talk to my superior” you faced Seokjin for a moment and watched him wait for you at a distance.

“Cap, I’m sorry.” You cleared your throat and continued “The news surprised me too, and I didn’t know how to tell you. Can you trust me? I’ll try to look on to this. I swear, feelings won’t get involved. If I happen to find anything that might point a connection against Seokjin and Jungkook, I’ll let you know immediately”

“And what if he is? Are you okay with it? You know what will happen if he becomes part of our custody” he asked, worriedly.

You shut your eyes and nodded “I’m aware. I’ve been seeing him Jin for half a month now. It’s nothing compared to you, Cap” you looked down, refusing to look back at him, not when you just confessed your feelings for him albeit indirectly.

“Y/N…” he spoke softly.

“You don’t have to say anything.” You shook your head “I know this is purely work, lives are on the line…” You begrudgingly replied, then you paused. “That’s why I’ll make sure I’ll get compensated well on this” you slowly turned your gazed at him, now smirking.

“I can only pay what the government give--- ” you stopped him mid-sentence by pointing a finger on his lip, raising yourself up, tip-toed.

“Not that silly” He tilt his head again in confusion. “You, wrapped around my fingers. Go figure.” You whispered on his ear and chuckled. You turned around, and left him wondering on his own. It took him a moment before he realized what you meant. He bashfully chuckled at the thought.

After spending more time with Seokjin for months, you’ve finally gathered valuable information to report directly to Namjoon, which entails you in meeting him straight to his own apartment each night.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” he asked, as he gathered his boxer he left from the floor. You remained still in bed, panting after doing a marathon with Namjoon. Namjoon opened his window to let the cold breeze enter his dull room.

You turned sideways and watched him moved out from the bed, savoring his bareness. “Nearly, ready”

He tied his discarded condom and threw it on the trash bin “Y/N, whatever happens tomorrow. I just want to let you know that I---” he paused, trying to construct what he was about to say.

You sat up, despite remaining bare “Shh” You reached him out for a kiss.

“If things goes bad tomorrow, I want you to know that you mean so much to me” he took your wrist and kissed the back of your hand, his lips pressed hard as if hoping that his pure intentions will get through your skin.

You shook you head. “Aren’t I just a colleague, Namjoon?” you smiled weakly, reminding him of the reality that you are just there for him… for his own convenience.

He cupped your cheek and kissed you again. “You’re my partner, in everything Y/N”

You parted and smile. “I’m glad you feel that way” you pushed him back to bed, and pulled his boxers off again, almost ripping it to two. You wanted to let him know he wasn’t wrong, about feeling that you are his.

He was clearly surprised at your reaction, and flustered upon seeing you right above him. You smiled, amused at the view. To see your beloved Captain in such a vulnerable position. And like a clockwork, you sat comfortably on his waist as you pulled his wrists towards you. You forced his palms open with yours and directed it to your chest, letting him feel you again.

You closed your eyes, as you let him cup you gently “Captain..” you breathed his name while you shut your eyes, and began moving your hips slowly.

“Shit” he quickly got hard again, and you felt that. You felt his excitement again after you shamelessly teased your beloved Captain. You took a sealed condom from the bed side table and placed it on his harden length. He pulled one of his hand away and held on to it, then guided his length towards your entrance. You opened your eyes and smile.

“Ready for a second?” you asked. You watched him nod, as he began to push it in within you, both of you cursed almost synchronously at the ecstatic sensation. You tossed your head, and began moving your hips.

He held on to your waist, and you relished on it. You relished the way your Captain held on to you, you relished at the sight of seeing someone strong like him depended on you for comfort and affirmation. Exhilarated at the view of him below you, exhilarated at the thought of your own superior, down at your mercy.

Seokjin informed the Investigation Department again, which the assignment was promptly relayed again to your team: “Apprehend Jungkook and his men in #32 Namdo Building Gangseo-gu District”

At the same time, Namjoon informed the Investigation Department of his suspicion against Seokjin.

“You sure, Kim? If you’re wrong about this, not only will you lose Seokjin’s trust but your whole credibility as a Captain…” Mr. Song, one of the Investigation head, reminded Namjoon.

“I am certain sir. One of my partner, Y/N, was able to gather pieces of evidence that may point out his guilt in conniving with Jeon Jungkook” he bowed and handed him a manilla envelope containing the things you took from Seokjin, secretly.

“Very well, we will take Seokjin in to custody after I examine these things. Good luck on your mission” he bid Namjoon good luck as he watched Namjoon ran towards his car while it rained.

“Point A to D clear” you heard Hoseok speak from you and Namjoon’s ear piece.

“Copy” you subtly replied from your microphone hidden inside your shirt. “Ready, Mr. Kim?” you fixed his necktie inside the car. He didn’t reply, his eyes were burning with hatred. You’ve never seen him this determined to be able to see Jungkook, his formidable enemy, finally in the flesh.

You and Namjoon, took great lengths over these past few weeks to be able to secure a seat on this secret meeting with the boss himself, Jeon Jungkook. Despite at his tender age of 22, he was able to amass a fortune more than his father and his forefathers could ever gain. And now at the age of 24, he was able to bring down all his enemies. Rumor has it, he would clear out his enemy’s entire family line so that no one could ever attempt to take revenge against the whole Jeon family.

But Namjoon was ready to risk it all, even if his own family was on the line. He was willing to wager everything he has, just to end his lunacy. Yet he still couldn’t bring to himself the idea of risking and losing you against Jeon.

“Y/N, if anything goes bad, I want you to run as far as you could. Away from this, okay? You know how vindictive Jungkook can be” he stared at you, longingly.

“Joon” you shook your head and corrected yourself “I mean Captain, I’m trained to face whatever remember? Whatever happens, I’ll show up. It’s part of my job---”

“Okay, lovebirds, enough chit-chat. You know this is recorded right? We’ll be handling our conversation to the heads, unless you wanted to let them know about your secret affair or whatever this is… God, it’s awkward listening to you two!” Hoseok said on the other line.

You chuckled. “Can we have this off-record? Anyway, he’s right Captain. Time’s running. You need to get to your sit there now, as Mr. Kim the representative of Fiery Brothel of Songpa-gu District. I’ll stay here, make sure everything is working according to plan, alright?” you pat his collar and checked his ear piece if it was greatly secured. “All dashing and ready!” you smiled at him.

Namjoon introduced himself as Mr. Kim to a man in red suit “I speak on behalf of my superior Mr. Co, who manages Fiery Brothel in Songpa-gu owned by the Jeon” The man in red suit just nod and led you inside the building.

At first, Namjoon was confused as to why he was led inside a burger chain. Then he turned to the left hallway and entered inside the “authorized personnel staff room”, Namjoon followed. The room was cramped and filled with cleaning tools, food and personal hygiene products and other things.

The man pulled out the fire extinguisher from the glass box, where he found a button hidden behind it. He suddenly pressed it twice, paused then thrice, paused then once. It was a secret code. The wall started to separate from top to bottom, unfurling another secret entryway that leads to a speakeasy bar-cum-opium den.

Namjoon quickly recognized few faces around, from the head of the other government department, to local celebrities, even the sons and daughter of influential businessmen were there. Gambling, out of wits, high from the aroma of opium mixed with other things.

They continued to walk, the man in red suit clearly unbothered, as if it was regular business. Namjoon gulped and tried to calm himself, putting a mental note on everything he saw and commit it to his memory. He’ll be needing it once he get his hands on Jungkook. Everything he sees right now, everything he owns, he wanted to see him lose it. He wanted his downfall. he was confident that after that night he’ll finally put everything to its end.

“This is as far as I can lead you sir” the man stopped in front of the door, bowed and opened it for Namjoon.

There it was the high table. Only 6 men, sitting on each side of the table, making him the last and the seventh member to the meeting. His heart was pounding fast, hands starting to grow cold, shaking uncontrollably. Little sweat beads were forming behind his neck, it’s as if he was drugged and out of wits as well, except his feeling was driven by his own fear.

Just a few second upon entering, he saw Taehyung and Jimin enter first from the front door of the room. He presumed it was an exclusive entryway for Jungkook and his trusted men, in case something bad happens, but nothing bad ever happened when they’re there. Taehyung and Jimin were his only trusted men. They were skilled, precise, ruthless and cold to the core. They would blindly kill anyone and even everyone for Jungkook, even if it cost their lives.

Jimin, narrowed his eyes towards Namjoon while he chew on his bubblegum. Taehyung, on the other hand, watched the other men shake in fear too. All were waiting for the boss himself to enter the room.

The room was white and bare, almost blinding to the eyes. The only color that was present are their ashen faces (except Taehyung and Jimin), their black clothes and the long dark-red oaken wood table and its matching chair. And finally, he was there, all in flesh.

No longer a picture posted on his office walls. No longer a dream, that woke up him up each night in fright. This was Jeon Jungkook. Young, tall, handsome, almost perfect that he can pass up as a god. Well, technically, he is, because he is the kind who plays like one. Because any mistake they omit in his presence can swiftly translate to a painful death.

Everyone rose from their seat to show their respect and fear towards him. Jungkook smiled. Too kind and too sweet, as if he looked innocent. But everyone knew better, he wasn’t the slightest bit of it. When he sat from his chair on the front, everyone followed, except Jimin and Taehyung who stood there to watch over.

Jungkook listened to each person during the meeting, he was attentive, alert and smart. He was the kind of leader that would bring shame to the whole police department, perhaps the whole country. Everything that runs out of his mouth were well-thought, intelligible and thorough. He didn’t leave a single issue unresolved, and the men quickly took note of it. The men were so scared that they just nodded without any further question. Jungkook like things brief, and hated being interrupted. The moment he finds someone that annoys him, Taehyung, a sharp shooter, will place a single bullet straight through their head. Not even letting them finish their first word.

“Actually, I’m sure you are all aware of the situation you are in right now, don’t you? I called everyone for a meeting because some of you are doing a very, very poor job” he grinned at everybody, nose a bit scrunched, like a harmlessly little bunny pouncing sunshine on each person on the table. Yet everyone looked down, nervous and grim. So did Namjoon.

Namjoon wasn’t aware of it. Neither anyone on the team. What was Jungkook thinking? Did he knew? Did Seokjin informed him that they’ll be attempting to take him in? Sh--

“Shit!” one of them men screamed in fear as he tried to ran towards the door, but before he could take another step from his sit, Jimin managed to throw his dagger in his head which passed through his eye and pinned his body down the floor.

“Tsk” Jungkook shook his head in disappointment. “Atleast, we were able to eliminate a coward in this group. Anyone wants to follow?” he raised his eyebrow as he chuckled again. Clearly entertained at the sight of blood.

No one dared to speak, not even a sound of whimper. “Very well, now that no one wants to speak for themselves, I would, for everyone’s behalf. I need to keep my business flowing, and you all are doing a terrible job. Thus, it’s unfortunate to inform everyone in this room that no one will survive today…” Right upon hearing it, Taehyung fired his gun towards 3 other men on his side and Jimin with his daggers flying and pinning the remaining 2 heads to the wall on his side, simultaneously and precise. “Except you, Kim Namjoon.” He blinks slowly and smiled at his direction.

“How does it feel to finally meet your nightmare?” he stood up and went to his direction.

Suddenly, Namjoon heard Hoseok cursing on the other end “Namjoon, it’s a trap! They knew! If you’re still there, run! Quickly! The mole told everything about us!”

“Where’s Y/N?” Namjoon asked Hoseok, but you only heard noises from his end.

“Y/N?” Jungkook asked. “You know I don’t like it when I don’t have someone’s full attention”

“Where is she? My partner! Did you take her? Did you kill her?” Namjoon immediately stood up from his seat, demanding Jungkook for an answer. Jimin swiftly threw his dagger to pin Namjoon’s legs back to his seat while Namjoon cried in shock and pain .

“You know I wouldn’t dare you pissing Jimin any longer Namjoon, unlike Taehyung he doesn’t have much patience. If you try to move again, I swear the next time will be a bullet from Taehyung’s gun and it’s far more painful than Jimin’s knife… and I can’t assure you where he wants to aim it. Sit” he spoke calmly, and strangely alluring yet intimidating.

Hoseok spoke again “The mole is here! Seokji----- scchhhht” Taehyung went to Namjoon side and pulled the ear piece away from him, threw it on the floor and stepped on it.

“Where is she?!” Namjoon demanded, eyes intensely fixated on Jungkook.

Taehyung crouched down and slapped his mouth. “You’re not asked to speak” he took the broken ear piece from the floor and pushed it inside Namjoon’s mouth “You better listen!”

Namjoon gagged a bit and spit the shattered pieces “Enough Taehyung, I bet he’s got it” Jungkook commanded.

“You and Seokjin will pay for what you did to Y/N!” he screamed, his fear already absent upon realizing the possibility of losing you for good.

“Seokjin? Who is he?” Jungkook chuckled. “While, it’s true there’s a mole within you” he sat on the table, just inches away Namjoon. “It’s not Seokjin, whoever he may be, I never met the guy. He sounded like a nice guy” he shrugs, still smiling. “Give you a clue, try to think who is out of reach right now?” he taps his temple.

Namjoon paused. When he realized who it was, his blood rushed up to his head, leaving him cold, nauseated and in pain. “No, it can’t be”

There you were, entering the room from the door in front of everyone inside. Safe and unharmed “Hey love, I miss you so much!” you quickly ran towards Jungkook and jumped to give him a long pressing kiss.

“No… but why?” Namjoon’s eyes started to cloud with his own tears.

“Love, why don’t you tell him?” Jungkook pouted as he turned to face you, and pulled you in closer, letting you sit on his lap.

“Well, I got bored here. I decided I want to play police. That’s why I’m here, but I got bored too, so I decided to come back” you smiled at Namjoon then at Jungkook “to you, love”

Jungkook chuckled, his nose scrunched again in a bunny like manner, as he point his finger against your nose and tapped it “That’s my girl, isn’t she cute when she gets bored?” he asked Namjoon.

“But everything, what we’ve been through, were they all lies?”

You shook your head still smiling “Not everything, no. Well, except everything about Seokjin, and the brothel and Mr.Co…” you rolled your eyes, sluggishly “Didn’t I tell you I’ll make sure everything goes according to plan? I mean, my plan that is…” you shrugged.

“How?” Namjoon’s head fell to his chest, clearly desperate, praying that everything he was hearing from you weren’t true.

“Well for starters, it’s really not hard to fake documents, my background then my history… You’ve seen the opium den earlier didn’t you? The head of National Office Record is pretty much a regular these days, we just gave him a little freebies and then we’re good. But you sir, you were pretty interesting, I really had a great time!” you nodded.

“It was actually me who subtly planted the idea that it was Seokjin, it was me who gave Seokjin information, the exact location and a glimpse of our plan, well without telling him I am part of the group that is” you playfully traced your finger on Jungkook’s neck, letting Namjoon watch while he aches at everything. The reality that was unfolding before him.

“I was the one who curated random stuff as your evidence, made up stories about a non-existent Mr. Co and the Fiery Brothel in Songpa-gu, reserved a seat for you in the meeting and voila! You’re here! Isn’t great, love?” you gave Jungkook a peck on his lips and he nodded.

“Y/N” Namjoon cried

“You know Namjoon? I really like you, that’s pretty much true. But this man right here” you turn to Jungkook and playfully squeezed his cheek “I love him so much, I’m willing to give my life for him. That’s the difference. To be by your side, quite literally and to be by his side, forever, wherever I may be” Jungkook giggled at your declaration for his love.

“Please say it’s a lie! Tell me, you’re being forced by him, just say it. Please, I love you!” Namjoon screamed

“Stop, Namjoon” you watched him in pity. “Didn’t I tell you? We’re just bunch of colleagues…”

“Boss, what are you going to do with him?” Jimin’s eyes remained focused against Namjoon while he pops his gum.

“Love, what do you plan?” Jungkook gazed at you lovingly, while he was fixing your hair.

“He’s where he is supposed to be. A captain who just lost the trust of his superior and his men, just because of a woman. Isn’t it a tragic story, the story of a naïve pawn? This way love, you’ll be able to move freely with your business.” You stared at Jungkook’s lips, resisting to kiss him while he revel at your impregnable intellect.

“As usual, impressive as always” Jungkook nods as he kissed you again. “Let him live, so he’ll be able to tell our tale, a precautionary one to not screw with us”

“Y/N” Namjoon pleaded.

“Namjoon, you were the best Captain really. Thank you for the memories” you smiled.

Then Taehyung swiftly hit Namjoon in the face, leaving him unconscious, but only for a while.

Namjoon blinked at the sensation of rain drop falling over his face. Next thing he knew, people in scrubs were rushing towards him, raised him up from the pavement outside the hospital and secured his tired body on a stretcher.

“Sir, are you okay? Do you know where you are? Do you remember who left you here?” Namjoon was so oblivious at the moment, that he just tried to pull himself up to see if everything that happened earlier was a dream.

Until something fell from the inside of his coat. He picked it up “The Art of War by Sun Tzu?” he opened a page and saw a little note from you that says

“An enemy of my enemy is my FRIEND :) - Y/N”

Even when this rain stops, when the clouds go away I stand here, just the same Without saying anything, looking at the world There, a not so beautiful me is looking at myself In this rain In this rain

Rain by BTS

A/N: Thank you for giving time and reaching this far. This is my first attempt in making a smut fic so please be kind >.< This fic is actually my birthday gift for Slyn (SLL-AW Fictions) she’s a writer from YT who pushed me to try doing one too. Her bias is Jungkook so, naturally, the story ended with Y/N falling in the arms of Jungkook.

This is also nod and an attempt to honor one of my all time favorite fanfic, the BEST EVER CREATED on the internet about BTS: “House of Card by Sugamins” (if you know, you know 😉 )

I am so whipped for Master Jeon Jungkook that I just 👁️👄👁️. I didn’t want to recreate the verse, because I just can’t... I could never. House of Card is like a whole level of superiority and I’m just...a nursery...

Although, I borrowed the dark environment and the emotions involved in the characters... but I am totally disclaiming it to be a part of the verse. I’m a huge fan, I’m sorry I’m geeking out 😭 (Sugamins if you ever see this, I love you and thank you!! 😭 huge fan!!)

Slyn’s favorite genre are mafia, action, and romance (specifically with Jungkook). She’s aware of House of Cards too so yeah..

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed “In The Rain” :).

PS. If you haven’t read “House of Card” please do! It’s on a03! Google it! BUT YOU HAVE TO BE 18 and above... and open to like practically everything! Read the warning signs first before you proceed. But I swear, it’s the best out there!!! (you’ll know why it hit a million views once you finished. That fic should be in a book, and I’ll gladly buy several copies!

ALSO, I’m so sorry for making Y/N a villain/psychopath. As well as Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung. Forgive me. It was raining hard one day while listening to Rain on by BTS and the ending scene just came up to my mind and I happen to work on it since... :<

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