#(that's a joke. I'm perfectly happy with my birth year.)

[kyndaris]

Re: Connect

Ever since the disaster that was COVID-19, I've slowly begun to renew my relationships with a lot of people from the past. Most have been simple catch-up dinners/ lunches here and there. We talk about lives since we last saw each other and see where the other is at on this journey called life. After all, when you finish university and move into the workforce, life just becomes...well...busy. And you begin to lose touch. No longer is it so easy to arrange a quick catch-up during the week or on weekends. Especially if you live in a city as big as Sydney.

But since I've lived in this fair city since birth, it should also come as no surprise that I've also met a colourful cast of individuals across the many stages of my life. Be they old work colleagues, friends from high school, or heck, even the odd acquaintance!

If you are a regular reader of this here blog, you'll know I've talked about some of the reunions in the last two or so years. But I have to say, the start of 2024 was a rush of old familiar faces I didn't quite expect.

Story time!

Now, as you, dear reader, know, I've always expressed an interest in finding a group to play a tabletop role-playing game with. Of course, I didn't expect that to come via my favourite chinchilla. This old uni friend of mine, whom I entertain with many a statement of their grisly demise (it's a complicated relationship. Suffice it to say, they have consented to me using analogies from the TV show You and Tess Gerritsen's Rizzoli and Isles series to conjure up fanciful imagery. None of which actually eventuates. It's a running joke. Chinchilla is perfectly safe in my hands), reached out to me in November 2023. It was the first time in years I'd received a message from them despite constantly wishing them a 'Happy Birthday.'

I'm sure, dear reader, you can imagine my surprise.

Thankfully, we easily fell back into old habits. As if the distance of time had barely impeded our friendship.

As we ate sushi together, chinchilla provided me with updates on their life. From their marriage to subsequent divorce, and then to an ADHD diagnosis. They also told me of their harrowing mental health journey in the decade or so since we last met, and how they emerged from it.

In between our more serious chats, I regaled my dear sweet chinchilla with my nerdy exploits and my failed attempts at trying to play D&D. It was then that chinchilla advised they still had some sway with their circle of friends back in high school and could pull some strings to potentially get me an audience to show off my tabletop role-playing chops.

I didn't hear back from chinchilla until sometime in December. And as the clock ticked in 2024, I finally mustered up the courage to message one of the core members: a friend I used to know back in primary school. In fact, he's actually the inspiration for a short story I wrote on nostalgia. Alas, after building things up in my head, reality, unfortunately, did not love up to my lofty expectations.

Over the years, we had changed far too much. And it was disappointing to see how much he wanted to forget the person he had been in those formative years. True, he still loved anime but he was also a respected doctor/ radiologist. No longer did he have set of UNO cards readily on hand to play a game or five. High school and the passage of time had stripped away most of what I remembered of him.

Still, he was my gateway to a one-off game of Every Day Heroes, with many a person I knew. None of which I was super familiar with but I, at least, could hold some semblance of a conversation with. While I would have liked to continue playing with them, the fact they held their sessions on a weekday, with many of them playing late into the night, the house being on the opposite side of Sydney to my own, and my growing responsibilities when it came to my grandma, I couldn't quite justify making this a weekly occurrence.

Besides, I was also soon to be jetting off to Japan and South Korea for a long awaited holiday (I say the week before my trip. Although, when this post comes out, I will have returned).

Still, I managed to bumble my way through what would turn out to be a very chaotic group of players.

But they were not the only ones I managed to reconnect with in the first of the year. Oh no.

Even as I was plugging away at Octopath Traveler 2, I was reviewing possible future love interests on Hinge (I know, poor phrasing. But as we all know, love's just a game) and stumbled upon the profile of a girl I'd befriended back in my high school days despite the fact they were in the grade below mine. Immediately, I sent her a rose and messaged them on Facebook (because, you know, Millennial. I'll use another social media app over my dying body!)

Because we already knew each other, I wasn't as hesitant to meet up. Nor was there much need for numerous texts to feel out the other person's interest. So, we quickly arranged for a meet-up and off we trotted to an Italian restaurant in Darling Harbour. There, we caught up on life, including what we both did for work (she's in academic research, which for all intents and purposes is NOT a real job. A real job is a 9 to 5 office job where we have NO clue what we're doing). Then, of course, the conversation turned towards our love lives. After all, we were both on Hinge. As such, I shared some of my dating experiences and so did she. And as we chatted about our friendship circles, she was keen to have me meet up with another old friend as she found us entirely too similar.

As the calendar moved from January to February, I then caught up with another face from my past. For ease of reference, and to cut down on all the ambiguous pronoun usage, I'll call them Sorrengail (because they hate Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros with a passion. And well, the only way I can show affection is through light teasing). Now, Sorrengail and I met on the school bus back in ye olden days of high school and I distinctly remember she was intrigued by me playing Apollo Justice. Somehow, it kicked off a friendship between like-minded individuals and it would later spur her on to become a senior graphic designer for a small game studio right at the heart of Sydney.

Sorrengail and I arranged to meet up for some branch on a grey and brooding Saturday. While we didn't have a cafe in mind, we managed to find one in close proximity to the train station. As we ate our food, we discussed our lives up to that point - commiserating over not being able to keep up with the ever evolving lexicon Gen Z had adopted, being ace, and well being curmudgeon wordsmiths. A conversation with us is like cracking open a thesaurus midway through as we toss out all the words we've picked up from reading far too many novels (something that was pointed out to me by a manager when I used the phrase ' lickety-split.').

Of course, I was also quick to correct Sorrengail on trying to bond with her Gen Z colleagues by informing them that Skibidi Toilet was NOT Gen Z but rather a viral phenomenon of Gen Alpha (thanks Matthew Patrick. I'll certainly miss you dishing out all the theories on your channels).

And she later told me how she was learning to become a better team leader at her workplace. But also wanted to be seen as approachable (even as she dominated them on the Super Smash field).

After we had finished off brunch, Sorrengail and I headed to the heart of the city. We continued to chat about our lives, and I shared with her a link to my stories (she's actually managed to read most of them although has given me the feedback that most of my short stories might be a little niche in their themes and topics), even as we perused Kinokuniya. Neither of us, of course, bought anything though Sorrengail was tempted on several occasions.

As our little catch-up came to an end, Sorrengail and I promised to keep in touch. I even snapped a photo of her Switch friend code so I could add it when I got home.

So ended my very busy first two months of 2024 and their host of catch-ups with friends, new and old. As with all things, it takes time to foster these relationships. But I certainly do find them engaging.

And, if I may be frank, Sorrengail has much more in common with me than the ex-friend ever did. And more of a worldly understanding that I can get behind. They aren't terrified to try something new and they aren't content with living their life forever in the same old trappings.

Yes. I know it's a little harsh but it's difficult to converse with someone who spends their entire time on the internet, focused solely on the ethereal you-I conceit of sociology except they've mangled it all in Jungian philosophy without truly understanding how it applies to the wider world.

Anyways, I'll stop griping. After all, reconnecting with old friends should be a celebration. One of new beginnings! The problem, of course, will be in maintaining these relationships. These are two way streets. And the best way to deepen these friendships is to keep wearing in the groove!

They'll all fall for my Kyndaris charm sooner or later!

#personal blog #reconnecting with friends #old friendships #how has it been a decade since I've last seen these people? #found a fellow ace in my friendship circle! #chinchillas in glass cages

[haruwrites21]

Unwrapping Laughter: Top 5 Funny Christmas Quotes to Lighten Up Your Holiday

Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year, filled with joy, laughs, and good old holiday cheer. Far away from the seriousness of life, it's a season where we can relax, enjoy the company of loved ones, and chuckle over the funny side of Christmas. In the spirit of spreading that hilarity, here are our top 5 funny Christmas quotes to lighten up your holiday!

"I once bought my kids a set of batteries for Christmas with a note on it saying, 'toys not included.'" - Bernard ManningThe ultimate 'Dad joke,' this quote by Bernard Manning perfectly encapsulates the humor in everyday parenting struggles. Whether we're watching our children wrench open gift after gift or reminiscing about our own distant childhood, this quote is a hilarious reminder of the joy of living in the chaos and hilarity of Christmas Day.

"Christmas is a baby shower that went totally overboard." - Andy BorowitzSatirist Andy Borowitz gifts us a funny perspective to the holiday season. This quote humorously draws a parallel between the traditional celebration of Jesus's birth and contemporary baby shower parties which, in some cases, can become extravagantly out of hand. It's a gentle poke of fun at our shared tendency to over-do the celebrations during the festive season.

"Santa Claus has the right idea. Visit people only once a year." - Victor BorgeVictor Borge's humorous take on Santa's once-a-year visitations provides fantastic comic relief. For those of us who find the social demands of the festive season rather overwhelming, this quote is a reassuringly funny nugget of wisdom that it's okay to want a little peace and quiet now and then.

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas. But if the white runs out, I'll drink the red." - UnknownFor the wine enthusiasts among us, this anonymous quote plays a comical twist to the classic Bing Crosby song lyrics. In the bustle of the holiday season, it's an amusing reminder that sometimes a glass of wine (or two) is the perfect way to unwind.

"The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear. The fastest way to spread Christmas fear is coughing loud for all to hear." - 2020 humorThis final quote, emerging from the current global pandemic context, combines humor with a sage reminder of shared public responsibility. It highlights how our ways of experiencing togetherness have shifted, and humorously reminds us that health now takes precedence over age-old customs.

As we wrap up these quotes like precious gifts under the tree, it's important to remember that though Christmas may come around only once a year, laughter is a gift that lasts the whole year-round. So, spread the cheer, share a joke, lift someone's spirits, and make your holiday merrier. Merry Christmas and a hilariously Happy New Year!

#christmas #quotes

[werewolfbneimitzvah]

extremely cool that kids who love to watch other people play video games like i used to can just tune into a stream or pull up a let's play now instead of having to wait for their parent/friend to be in the mood to play a video game. like i genuinely loved spending hours watching my friends play Sonic or on arcade game websites or later Halo or my dad play Capture The Flag But With Guns and pretty much never wanted to play myself. and with only a click or two, it can be done in moments whenever one wants. brilliant. shame I'm not really into that anymore.

#obv i enjoy watching my friends play and have fun with them but it still doesn't capture my attention like it used to #oh well #''born in the wrong decade/century'' lament but it's just me being sad i wasn't born in the 2000s to watch video game streams #(that's a joke. I'm perfectly happy with my birth year.)

[jameui]

GUILTY MISTAKE

PAIRING: Kang Yeosang x M!Reader

GENRE: Angst, Fluff

WARNINGS: M!reader bullying sweet baby Yeosang, bad friends

SUMMARY: You've made a huge mistake once when you were a child and it's been in your head for the rest of your life, haunting you unless you've done something about it.

Just last month, you had turned six years old and you couldn't be more happier. For some unknown reasons, you liked how you grew older after every year, mostly because you receive gifts from your mom and dad and, of course, your friends who were about a year older than you.

Every year, on your birthday, you'd get expensive items and presents that you have been wanting for so long and foods that you get to eat with your family and friends. Loud music booming through the speakers, giggling while you made jokes with your friends laughing at almost everything due to the excitement and adrenaline that rushed through your bodies.

But, once everything was over and you know that everyone had to leave, you just keep on wishing that it was your birthday everyday. That way, everyone could still have fun and be happy with you, but then again, where's the thrill in that? They'd probably grow tired of it.

Right now, you were playing with your toys that you received creating specific sounds that corresponds to the action you controlled them to do, when you heard the doorbell ring making you gasp with joy at the thought of having a guest paying a visit.

You stood up from your position, your short legs running towards the door as you reached for the knob and turned it to open the door for the person behind it. The door moves wide open and reveals a woman who didn't look quite older than your mother, while you smiled and looked up at her. "Good morning!" You greeted her.

The woman's eyes fell down to you, beaming with glee at your politeness. "A very good morning to you, too, deary." She replied. "Is your mom or dad around? We're actually new to the neighborhood. We just moved from Busan."

You nod your head to answer her as you walked up to your mother who was in the kitchen cooking lunch. "Mom, someone's at the door for you."

"Really? Who is it?" Your mother asked you, wiping her newly washed hands on her apron.

You shrugged your shoulder, holding onto your mom's hand. "Neighbor said she was new." You and your mom was now in front of the door and the two women greeted each other as the other woman handed out a basket to your mom while you waited patiently for your mom to give it to you.

As soon as she did, you waggled your small feet towards the table before you caught a glimpse of a kid, not much taller than you, peeking from behind his mother's pants. He looked scared and shy, but it seemed to you that he wanted to approach you, but he was just too timid to do so.

You gave him your million dollar smile that made the small boy giggle at your friendliness, you jumping down from where you sat with a small groan when you hit the floor. You ran back towards the door, now seeing the chubby boy whose tummy was curving like a small hill on his stomach.

He wore a blue tiny jumper that fit perfectly onto his body, with a striped long sleeves under his jumper, white socks and shoes that almost looked worn out. You approached the boy a comfortable distance away and looked behind the woman that looked to be like his mother, a wide smile still present on your face as you waved a hand at him hello.

The boy bashfully hid, only leaving his arm to be left seen while waving back at you hesitantly. You could see how much the boy struggled to make friends with you so you decided to close in on the distance leading your feet towards the boy and poked your head out that made the boy flinch. "Heya there!" You said, now standing in front of him as the little boy hid his eyes away from you. "Don't be scared. People tell me I'm kind." You giggled softly, the other boy glancing up at you before quickly looking away once again. "I'm M/n, by the way. How about you? What's your name?"

He looked up at you shyly and stammered. "I-I'm Yeothang."

"Yeothang? What a unique name." You beamed, but he shook his head to correct you.

"No, no. Yeothang."

"Oh, you got a lisp." You said at the sudden realization and he nodded his head. "So, Yeosang?" He nodded again. "Yeosang. You have a pretty name." You said, finally noticing the birth mark that decorated the side of his left eye. You gasped and pointed at it. "Wowza! You have a cool looking tattoo!"

"It'th... It'th not a tattoo, M/n." Small Yeosang said, hesitating to call you by your name. "Mommy told me it'th a birth mark."

"Ooh, a birth mark. I wish I had one just like yours." You pouted. "I've got nothing."

Yeosang giggles at you making you smile. "That'th okay, M/n." He said and looks at you with his small brown orbs. "You look great even without them." He said, before he sniffed due to his runny nose that caused a snot to fall from his nose.

You were able to see this and pulled the hem of your shirt to wipe it from his nose and smiled brightly at him, which in turn, earned you a face of shock from Yeosang. "There."

"But, I dirtied your shirt." He furrowed his brows.

You waved it off and gave him assurance. "Don't you worry. My clothes get cleaned pretty well, so it's alright." You told him. "Oh, hey, wanna eat the snack your mom gave us? I saw cookies there. I bet you love cookies."

He nods his head once and immediately, you took his wrist into your small hands that barely closed around it as you pulled him inside and to your kitchen table. You let Yeosang take a seat first, since he needed a little help from his small size. You were next to take seat, settling on the seat beside him. You opened the basket that was wrapped with a cling wrap to secure it properly.

You let yourself drool at the sight of all the delicious delicacies that was inside the basket. "That is a lot." You chuckled cutely, unable to decide which baked goods to eat first. Throughout your process of thinking, your mother and Yeosang's mother had finished their conversation and the latter was called over. Yeosang gave his mother a small 'coming', before climbing down the seat as you pouted. "You're leaving already."

"I'm afraid tho, M/n." Yeosang replied sadly as you thought.

You pondered for a moment before you hastily took a bunch of the delicacies from the basket and went down to give it to Yeosang. "Here. I want you to take this with you. Eat them, or else."

Yeosang nodded and gave you a look of delight at your kind and cute gesture. "I will, M/n." He said before he jogged off to his mother showing her what you gave to him.

"Bye, Sangie!"

"Bye, M/n."

The following day, you were with your friends by the children's playground playing a round of tag, you being the tagger. "Tag, you're it!" You yelled on top of your lungs once you were able to catch up with the smallest of your group of friends, who whined in protest and stomped his foot.

"I'm always 'it'! Why can't it be—"

"Can I play, too?" That all too familiar sweet, honey like voice came from behind him, taking all of your attentions as your head all turned to him and revealed the very shy Yeosang. "I know how to play the game. We uthed to play that back at home."

"Yeosang, of cour—" You were about to reply, but your friends' rejection to his action of joining cut you off.

"Ew, no way. We don't want your boogers and sticky green nose liquid on us. Get away!"

"Yeah, go away! We don't want you playing with us."

"Booger boy!"

"Go play in another playground!"

Those were the words that your friends threw at him that got you shocked from hearing what your friends were saying to Yeosang. Your eyes had widened in shock while you could clearly see the hurt in his eyes that was now glossy with his forming tears from the mean comments he received from your friends. You clearly didn't know there was something going on with your friends and Yeosang.

Yeosang's pleading eyes was placed onto you as he waited for your answer, fiddling with his fingers. Your friends were the best people you could ever have and losing them never crossed your thought, so to avoid this situation from happening, you did what you thought was going to keep them as your friends. "Sure. You can play with us." You said, which made Yeosang hopefully smile, but he immediately took it back from what he heard next from you. "If you weren't so disgusting."

At that, you smirked and all your friends bursted out laughing giving you a clap at the back, the dejected Yeosang hanging his head low, feeling embarrassed. Although he was shamed upon, he still knew you had that kindness inside you and guessed you might have done that for a reason, so he gleamed and looked back at you. "Alright. Maybe next time? When I'm not snot booger rocket anymore." He snorted while laughing that made you all look at him like he's a weirdo.

"Go away! We never want to play with you, again."

And what you thought was just a one time thing, became a permanent bullying towards the poor little boy who only wanted to make friends and play with you. Before they left Busan, he had promised his mom that he wouldn't be the shy boy his parents knew him as, and become friends with the children at their new home, but it looked it was 'friends' that didn't want him.

Their first day, the day he met you, he was so excited and happy that he was able to make a friend, even if it were you who was the first one to approach him. He admired how you were so brave to befriend him and your politeness was one of the things he praised you for. He also thought you were a really kind and friendly kid, but looking at it now, it looked like he was wrong as he was once again rejected to play with you, seating on one of the swings that were a far distance away from where you and your friends played tag.

He sighed, but he didn't want to give up that easily so he ran to you while giggling repeating the words, 'I wanna play' over and over again which got to your friends' nerves, to the point where one of them pushed Yeosang to the ground which got your mouth gaping at the shock, while Yeosang stared up the person who pushed him, eyes starting to swell with tears. As though the fact that he was pushed to the ground wasn't enough, the same person kicked him by the leg which got Yeosang shouting in pain, before standing back up crying and ran home.

You made your way to your friends and glared at them. "Hey, that was too much."

"Why do you care so much?" He sassed at you. "He deserved it."

Your glare didn't falter, but softened when your eyes caught sight of a crying Yeosang. While your friends started to pile up in the middle of the place, you were still caught up in your thoughts, wishing you had just been nice to Yeosang and left your friends for treating Yeosang like that.

Yeosang didn't deserve it. He was a sweet, innocent and kind-hearted boy. He was too pure for this world. He didn't even give up once on trying to be friends with you, but all you ever did was tease him and mock him, call him names like 'booger boy' as you all called him as, 'weirdo', and all sorts of things. Finally realizing your fault, you sighed and regretted the treatment you gave Yeosang. "Sangie..."

A month or so after, you heard about the Kang family moving to another neighborhood which made you feel so bad and hate yourself totally. You didn't even get to say your sorry to Yeosang properly. The little boy never again showed up at the playground and only did when he was asked to throw the trash, all bundled up under so much clothings, since it was winter. That was the only moment you could ever see him.

You rushed out of your house and saw that they were now entering their car, you zoomed across the street and called Yeosang. "Yeosag, Yeosang! Wait!"

This got his attention, snapping his head towards you with a big smile. "M/n! You came to thee me off?" He giggled, making you feel guilty.

You shook your head and knitted your brows. "Why are you leaving? Where are you going?" You asked all in one go.

"We're moving back to Buthan, thince mom wath able to find a plathe there where it'th rent free and could all fit uth in." Then, he leaned in close to your ear to whisper. "Don't worry. I never told mom that your friendth hated me." He giggled secretly.

"Sangie... I also did bad things to you.." You told him sadly.

"I know." Yeosang smiled. "But, I know you didn't do it on purpothe."

"Yeosang, the car's about to leave."

"Oh, I gotta go now. Bye, M/n." He said and waved you goodbye while entering the cab and rolled the windows down while he smiled up at you. "Hope to thee you thoon again, M/n." He said one last time before the car drove off to their destination.

And there it goes. Your last chance to say sorry. Lost. Now, you're left with a lingering feeling of pure guilt and regret.

-------

Years after and you have disbanded with your friends, you are still living with the regret that you made from when you were young. You had just turned 18 years old last month and you were even sadder than the last. Instead of wishing gifts and presents from your new found friends and families, you were only wishing for Yeosang to come back so you could just tell him how much you were sorry and hug him so tightly that he wouldn't be able to breathe.

Your sullen look was noticed by your mother, who by the way, already knew your sin towards Yeosang since you had told her about it already. The first time you told her, she was aggravated with you for not being the child she had raised you to be. You told her the purpose of your action, thus the reason why you left your friend group and boy was your mom right to have let you leave them. What once was playful, turned harsh and violent and you didn't want to be a part of that. "What's wrong, honey? Don't you like your gifts?" Your mother asked you in concern.

You shook your head and sighed. "It's not that. I'm just... feeling like a total jerk."

Your mother sighed at you sadly and sat down beside you, patting you lightly on the back. "Honey, what you've done was wrong, but trust me when I say that Yeosang has a kind heart and if you ever tell him you're sorry, he'd forgive you right away."

"Thanks, mom." You said. "But, people change as they grow."

"Not Yeosang."

You rolled your eyes at your mom with a smirk. "Sure mom. Not Yeosang." You shook your head in disbelief. "I just wish you're right, mom."

You stood up from your seat, as your mother did and walked your way out the door taking in the fresh air of the morning during spring season, when all the trees stood straight and tall, the flowers blooming with all their beauty. You smiled at the sight and took the camera that was hanging by your neck, over a sling and took a picture of the ethereal scenery.

You walked past your porch and started heading to the park to get some takes on your camera to post on your Instagram to entertain your million followers. As you did, you were able to pass by an ice cream stall, so you took a quick stop and bought three scoops of (favorite ice cream flavor) with chocolate syrup and sprinkles to top it off.

You were wearing a smile, happily licking your ice cream away. You let your eyes explore the world around you, finding everything interesting. All these years, the place had been making a lot of changes. From buildings to parks and work towers, everything just felt new, as if you never got to spend time, at least once visiting these places throughout you're whole eighteen years of existence.

You finally arrived at the park, everything from your childhood flashing back through your head. The once only a children's playground is now a family park, but rather than being reminded by the joyous memories, you were able to remember the memory that's been haunting you for life.

You couldn't believe yourself that you had the ability to bully such an innocent kid, while you kept blaming yourself for their sudden moving away. If you had the power to turn back time, you'd make things right with Yeosang and be a better friend to him, which you couldn't do because you wanted to be with the 'cool kids' when all they ever did was make a person's life miserable.

You found a bench to seat on and checked through the pictures you took on your camera, laughing at a video of Mingi getting drunk with Yunho, carrying him like he was a puppy. You just missed those two so bad. You never got another chance to meet them, not even once, since they're both now busy with their job and you're still here trying to find a way to pass the college entrance examination.

Whenever they're around, you three would always be loud as fuck and wouldn't care a thing about the world, just as long as you three are happy. Of course, you didn't go too far just to be happy, unlike the friends you once had.

You still had the smile on as you sighed satisfied and rested your camera back down to let it hang on your neck. You looked around you and saw children playing by the fountain, their parents watching with glee at the sight of their children playing happily. You grabbed your camera and took a picture of the wonderful scene.

You took a few more shots, satisfied, you were finally about to leave with not much else to do, when in a distance you heard a gruff voice call out to you. "M/n? Didn't expect to see you here."

You looked behind you to see Mingi who was in his suit holding a case, his golden wrist watch shining brightly under the sun's light. You smirked and scoffed. "I could tell you the same thing." You said all the while crossing your arms over your chest. "Mingi, are you slacking off?"

Mingi rolled his eyes at your teasing. "I take my job seriously, M/n. I'm not the same person who cuts classes."

"Sure. Sure." You mocked him, while he glared at you. "Anyways, how are you and Yunho doing?"

The brown haired male smiled at the thought of the taller male and sighed. "Oh, you know. The usual. Us missing you and wanting to baby you."

This time, it was you who rolled your eyes, the smirk on your face growing wider, if possible. "You both still on that?"

"Well, you're pretty much the reason how we got together. So, it's just a way of us showing our gratitude for having you in our life." Mingi patted your head making you giggle at the simple contact.

"I just hated how you two were so dense with all the signs you both tried so hard to make the other notice. I had to do something, at least." You said.

"But, weren't you the one who told me you had feelings for Yunho?" He teasingly wiggled his brows at you, making you blush profusely.

"Shut up. There are pasts that should be forgotten and it includes that." You huffed, puffing up your cheeks making you look like a little squirrel. "And you promised we would never speak of this ever again." You pulled your brows in disappointment, looking up at him. "All you do is lie."

"Hey, hey. I don't go that far." Mingi defended himself, before pulling you into his arms to hug you. "But, if you're so embarrassed about it, it'll be just our little secret."

"Don't even promise me if you're just going to break them in the end." You deadpanned making Mingi let out a deep voiced chuckle.

"Alright."

Soon, the two of you parted ways, waving your hands to each other to say goodbye. You were making your way back home, when you noticed a moving truck from the house next door. A new neighbor? You walked up to the truck driver to greet her and do some important interview. "Good morning, ma'am. Did someone just move in?"

"Oh, nice to see friendly faces up in here." She chuckled. "It's not everyday you get the luck to meet one." She sighs from her aching back, before exhaling deeply. "Yeah. Rich families, to be exact. Paid me a good tip." She said making you giggle.

"I see." You laughed lightly. "Well, have a great day, ma'am. Hope to see you, again." You waved her goodbye, the woman doing the same to you.

You hummed to a song as you finished your walk, now in front of your porch, your mom tending with her flowers. "Had a good day, honey?"

"Better than great." You replied. "I met Mingi on his way to his job. Thought he was slacking off like he usually does." You chortled, earning a playful slap on the back from your mom.

"Oh, you." She told you before she led you inside and went straight to the kitchen. "Oh, by the way, have you met the new neighbors next door?"

"Nope." You answered, popping the 'p' with a purse of your lips at the end, then sat down on a seat excited to eat the apple pie your mother made while you were away. Once, it got placed down on the table, you hurriedly dug in with your barehands, but before you could, your mother slapped your hand making you pout as she folded her gardening apron.

"That's for the neighbors." She informed you, your mouth opening in understanding while nodding your head. "And I'm letting you do the honors to give this to them, since I believe, the new neighbors' son was a friend of yours."

"A friend? Who?" You asked with a raised brow, but your mother only gave you a wink and carefully hands you the apple pie. With no other choice, you stood up and wore your bunny slippers, too lazy to put your shoes back on, as you headed to the house next door.

You walked up the small stairs that led up to the house's front door and knocked three times. You waited for a reply, but you received nothing, so you waited before knocking on the door, once again just in case they didn't hear you.

Alas, a male's voice was heard, shouting a loud 'coming' to inform you that someone was finally coming for the door. You stood there patiently with a smile, practicing in your head what you will have to say to the male. The door soon flew open and appeared a tall man, who looked freakishly handsome, his features flawless that it's making it hard for you to look away. He was so surreal. Like a character pulled straight out from a comic.

You tried to utter a word, but the lines you prepared in your head was long forgotten. "Uh..." Was the only word you could ever stable.

"Er.. Is that for us?" The male asked you, snapping you from your thoughts and nodding your head, taking notice of the small lisp he had with the letter 's'.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. It's for you and your family." You said. "It's actually a tradition, so we make the new neighbors feel welcome." You added and slowly gave it to the male infront of you, a smile gracing upon his features. Goodness, his smile is so stunning.

He accepted the gift and took it into his hands. You bowed curtly and had decided to make your way back, when the male had caught your attention. "Wait, don't go just yet. Why don't you come inside and have a bite?"

And who were you to turn down an offer from a cute guy? "Uhm, er, sure. Yeah, I'd love to." He lets you walk inside first as he closes the door, a small creak and click coming from it.

"Hol'up, you're not a pedophile, are you?" You suddenly asked out of fear. "There's been a lot of news going on around the world and I've prepared my whole life, so I can fight you."

"No, no. For sure, I'm not." He said as he walked by past you, leading the way to the kitchen to guide you. Once you two made it to the kitchen, the things on the table were cleared, the car keys hiding it in his pockets. "Take a seat. I'll go grab some plates."

"Your mom and dad?" You asked out of the blue, making him chuckle.

"You're so full of questions." He told you. "They're buying groceries."

"Oh." You let out silently, sitting down while fiddling with your fingers since you got nothing else to do.

The male came back with what he intended to get and placed one on your side, then one on his, moving to the kitchen isle to get a knife to cut the pie. "So, how's your life going?"

You thought for while taking a long deep breathe. "Well, I guess you could pretty much say, complicated." You answered and when he didn't speak back to let you keep on talking, you continued. "There's days where I feel so happy, then there are days where I feel miserable." You looked up at him while he cuts the pie. "I just wish... I..." You trailed off once you were able to catch a glimpse of the discoloration of a certain area on the side of his head. Wait a minute. That birthmark...

The moment you were able to figure it out, you jumped up from your seat and widened your eyes in shock. "Yeo.. Yeosang..?"

He let out a small chuckle, before stopping his actions and looking up at you. "So, you saw my tattoo, huh?"

You couldn't believe it. He was back, but different. He's no longer the chubby little boy with snot running down his nose, he's now a total hottie and he's even taller than you already. "O-oh my gosh.. Yeosang.. You look so.. different."

"Well, I wanted to be your friend badly, I decided to change for you, but it was also a self-decision, so don't feel so bad, M/n." Yeosang said. He did change, but his personality is still the same old Yeosang.

"Yeosang, I was your friend. I was just a coward." You sadly said, your guilt even growing bigger. "I'm so sorry."

Yeosang moved to your side and pulled you into his arms, the strong scent of something sweet and musky all at the same time, tickling your nose. His embrace was so warm and caring that you never wanted him to pull away. "M/n, I have forgiven you a long time ago, already. You don't have to say sorry, anymore."

"Just let me do it, Sang. The thought of not being able to see you again keeps plaguing me for days." You admitted. "I kept on blaming myself that I was the reason why you moved away."

"No, M/n, you're not. Please, don't be hard on yourself." He said, caressing your hair. "It was a family business, so we had to move to a place near dad's work place."

You gave him a light punch and stifled a laugh. "You should have told me sooner."

You both got into a comfortable silence, before Yeosang decided to break it. "Well, how about we eat and catch up on each others' lives, yeah?"

"That sounds lovely."

#x male reader #bottom male reader #bxb #idol x male reader #male reader #ateez x male reader #kpop #ateez #fanfiction #yeosang #yeosang x male reader #kang yeosang #kang yeosang x male reader

[ladywinterwitch]

Run Away (Ten - Strangers)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Avenger! Reader

Summary: You and Steve complete each other. Your love is that strong and devoted kind of love that pushes people to things like marriage, making a family. You couldn't imagine that a baby would be something you really wished, until the possibility wasn't your choice anymore.

Warnings: pregnancy talk, fluff, A N G S T, I think that's it??

Words Count: 3739

A/n: Next chapter is longer and INTENSE

Series masterlist , main masterlist

(GIF not mine)

Y/n and Steve ended up falling asleep, which was a bit embarassing especially on his part. In the end tho they woke up around two in the afternoon and were starving. You also thought about the fact that Helen must've already set in by now. After cleaning up a bit and getting redressed the two actually went to separate directions, Steve to the gym because he had a bunch of new recruits to train by three sharp, while Y/n was heading to the kitchen.

-FRIDAY, would you call up ms Simon for me?- she found Tony, Vision and Thor in the common room so she quickly greeted them.

-Hey guys, taking a break?- she smiled when Thor got up to greet her properly. He was such a physical and affectionate person. He reminded her of a golden retriever; huge, with long hair and a heart of gold. Your smile widened when he bent down to press his ear to her belly.

-Well yes darling, do you forget that aside from kicking some ass every now and then we're basically jobless?- Tony joked. Both he and Vision were looking at you two.

-How is your pregnancy going, Y/n?- Vision asked in his posh and polite manner. She tilted her head to the side. Thor still touching the smooth and round surface. She didn't mind at all.

-It's going smoothly, thank you. Tho if I have to be honest I can't wait to at least give birth. I love my belly but it's so complicated to live with. I also miss actually moving around and exiting the tower. I don't think I've ever been so still and babyed in my life.-

-If it was an easy job, God wouldn't have gave it to women.- they all turn around when you hear an unfamiliar voice, which they soon found out to be Helen's. Thor stands straight in all his tallness and gets in front of her protectively.

-Who are you?- he asks suspiciously. She put a hand on his arm to calm him down.

-It's okay, Thor. This is Helen Simon, she's my new midwife. The one me and Steve hired this morning.- her head turns quickly to Tony then back to Helen. Tony stands up, fixing the invisible fold in his tracksuit pants and smugly walks to the older woman.

-Stark. Tony Stark. I actually hired you, but I'll let the happy couple have the glory.- he joked and you shook your head amused. They shook hands and then Vision introduced himself as well. Thor just acknowleged her with a nod. It's not like the God of Thunder had to introduce himself.

-Okay guys, see you later. I'm starving so.- you decided to cut it, but obviously Tony had to sneak in a joke. Had to.

-I'm sure cap worn you out.- Thor, which didn't know what timing was, bless his heart, decided to burst out laughing. You rolled your eyes not looking back.

-Jealousy doesn't match with your shoes Anthony.- you clapped back, still hearing Thor laugh and Tony calling him out.

A few feet down the corridor there was the kitchen, and when Y/n finally tought that her and Helen could have a minute alone, they found Wanda intently reading a book while she mover her finger around to spin the teaspoon in a mug. She looked up when they entered the room. Her finger stopped working and so did the spoon, the faint magenta colored aura disappearing.

-Hello?- she said, tentatively. Y/n ignored her cold stare and walked to the fridge taking out the leftover chicken and some salad to mix.

-She's Helen, the midwife me and Steve talked about.- there was a subtle warning in Y/n's voice. She thought 'Be nice' in her mind, and when Wanda sighed she knew she read her mind.

-Nice to meet you. If you'll excuse m- - Wanda was about to get up from the stool but the old woman's voice stopped her.

-You aren't eating that chicken cold are you? How old is it?- she walked closer, grabbing the plastic box from her hands. Both her and Wanda were a little taken aback by her bluntness, and shared a look.

-Uh..Yeah? I was actually going to put it in the salad. And it's..I'm not sure, a couple of days old? Still perfectly fresh and untouched.- she answered trying to reassure her, but she wasn't having it at all.

-This isn't eating healthy. If you want a healthy baby you need to eat properly. I'll take care of your meals from now on. - she stated, putting the box aside. - The non pregnant teammates can risk getting sick with that chicken. - Wanda's gaze darkened and her eyes took a light shade of red.

-What's that supposed to mean, old lady? - Y/n saw her fingers starting to move around with the corner of her eye and put her own hand on hers.

-Helen didn't mean anything, Wanda. She just meant that I have to be extra careful in comparison to the rest of you, ok? Don't you have to be somewhere right now?- she asked in the most calm way. The last hting she needed was Wanda yeeting Helen out of the tower on the first day. Wanda closed and picked up her book and mug, walking towards the exit of the kitchen.

-I mean, I'd like to go to the terrace to chill, but I can't.- Y/n frowned while sitting on a stool. Meanwhile Helen had already started to inspect their whole frige.

-I can feel Bucky and his girl going at it so yeah, I did not plan to watch a live performance.- she choked on water and the old lady turned around with a rather disgusted face. Wanda just shrugged and left them. The girl turned towards the older woman with an awkward smile.

-Welcome I guess.- the short fake laugh was over as soon as Helen sat in front of her, her hands conjoined in front of her.

-This isn't good.- the girl shifted uncomfortably, then uncosciously starting to rub her belly as a sign of comfort.

-What isn't?- the lady sighed. -First off, there are way too many people here. This place is chaotic, the people aren't giving you the peace that you need. This isn't a baby-space. At all. I just looked into your frigde and there isn't a single thing ready or 100% healthy probably except vegetables. Y/n if you want to be a good mother and be healthy for your baby you need to change a few things.- her words at first irritated her, setting off her protectiveness towards the people she called family, but then as she went on, she made her feel little. Like a little girl who wasn't good enough. She sighed silently.

-What would you have me do then?- she asked. Helen shrugged, still mantaining her perfect posture.

-I'm not gonna suggest you to buy a new place, because where you'll live after the baby is born is your business, but..- she paused, -I can offer you to come live at my place for these last two months or so. I have a nice, peaceful place a little outside New York. I already had eight of my patients do this, it's not so absurd.- she explained like it was the most normal thing in the world. Y/n was listening, but she wasn't convinced. She decided that she had to think about it first. She had to know for sure that she was professional and competent.

-I don't know, Helen. I'll admit that it isn't the most tranquil place to live, but...these people are my family. They have always been by my side, pregnant or not. And what about Steve? The father of my firstborn?- she marked the last phrase, tilting her head to the side. A little habit she probably took from Wanda.

-Because they care about you. But in truth, tell me, aren't you feeling like a burden? Like you get into their business?- she mirrored the young woman's expression. Y/n didn't answer at first.

-You're really not going soft on this are you?- Helen released a dry laugh. Shook her head and paused before talking.

-Yes. I began working as a nurse unofficially when I was 13 years old, during the Prague Spring reforms in '68. The hospital was in short of nurses so.- she explained, -That time wasn't easy. Not that the one before it and after it wasn't, that is. You either grow a thick skin or you don't survive.- Y/n felt for her, as she had a very similar destiny. First she doesn't know how she ended up in an orphanage, and then when she was fifteen and nobody took her, they kicked her out. She was homeless for a year until SHIELD recruited her, and the rest is history.

The older woman got up and took some vegetables, washed them and then placed them down to slice them. Y/n got up as well and started helping. She eyed the fresh eggs, so she guessed that Helen wanted to make a quick frittata.

-How did you end up in America? As midwife, nonetheless.- she asked.

-Why most foreign people come to America? Certainly not the food.- The woman responded with a slight hint of irony. The girl chuckled.

-Touché.-

-In any case, I've been here more than half of my live, moved many states mainly for my own choice. Being a private midwife pays decently.- she paused to dump the sliced vegetables into a pan with a little oil and salt.

-I became one because I was fascinated by the whole process that the woman's body goes through both before, during and after birth. I assisted two of my older sisters, and in the end ended up doing it as a job.- Y/n nodded, listening.

-That's actually amazing. But if I can ask, you do not have kids yourself?-

-No. Didn't have the possibility at first. Then decided that just it was my profession but not my future. No regrets.- she answered even tho the girl could sense that something was off. She decided not to intrude.

Silence fell between them while they were cooking, and the younger woman took the popularity to think about what she said. The woman was practical, a bit harsh maybe. But she also had a lot of experience. She didn't like the thought of leaving her family, but she had to admit that she often felt like a burden lately. More than once someone stayed behind to look after her, and even tho they didn't seem to mind at all, she did. She wasn't used to being so pampered and looked after, and sometimes she almost felt suffocated. Guess that spending many years of your life having to take care of yourself takes a toll on you.

She didn't want to decide anything without talking it out with Steve first. And it wouldn't be permanent, just for the last couple months or so, until she had the baby. If she really thought about it maybe she needed some time to reconnect with herself, to learn how to take care of her baby in the best way possible. Even the stupidest thing like cold chicken could potentially make her sick, and it was such a small thing. But that doesn't change the fact that she didn't knew. She wasn't one of those moms who surrounded herself with books teaching her every do's and don'ts, but at this point insecurity was kicking in. The last thing she would ever want was to be a bad mother even before actually becoming one.

-

Between a baby shop and another, and a whole new diet including an embarrassing amount of tea, Y/n finished her eight month of pregnancy. She was feeling as tired and as big as ever. Helen actually helped a lot both with the cooking, the health tips and with the shopping. She actually sobbed when they bought the crib. Both because she was emotional, a bit because hormones and also because Steve was again away on a mission. The whole team was actually. They had new leads in the Hungarian case and another completely different mission in South Korea, a tough one. So it required the whole team split up. That was the fist time Y/n was left alone since she knew she were pregnant. It all went smoothly, the tower actually felt quiet for once.

Y/n and Helen had found a nice dynamic, and most of the time spent time in a comfortable silence, each doing their thing. A downside that she wasn't realizing was the distance that was slowly creeping from her to the team. They didn't really like the midwife that much, Wanda, Thor and Bucky especially didn't like her at all. But Y/n felt for her, she felt like she knew her better than them so she often took her side, which hurt them back.

Steve on the other hand wasn't realizing it almost at all. All he cared about was his wife being healthy and that she got along with the midwife. They didn't sleep together often anymore, due to the fact that he was often away and she was constantly tired. Bruce did warn her at the beggining that this 'enhanced' baby would've probably tired her out, and it did at first but then she was feeling very well. She and Helen both blamed it on the tiredness of the pregnancy as a whole.

The last straw was when some of the guys, specifically Sam, Thor and Peter, whom didn't live at the tower and was rarely involved in missions because of Tony, went to see them and in some way, nobody actually know how, they made a whole ass hole in the floor above the library. Fate wanted that Y/n and Helen were reading just a few feet away. If they were just a bit closer to the door, they would've been hit by the pavement pieces.

Helen gasped and jumped out of her seat, book still in her hand by the corner. The younger woman on the other hand was more mad than anything.

She rose from the armchair, struggling a bit and marched towards the now destroyed door. The damage wasn't so bad, but it was still damage and it could've been way worse. She was fuming.

-Y/n! Shit are you okay? - Sam yelled from above. The three guys looking down from the hole they created.

-I'm so sorry it wasn't me! It was Thor! - Peter joined in and caused the God to respond, and from that a whole lot of mess arose.

The people who weren't on a mission, which were Wanda, Bucky and Tony, came running.

Y/n didn't know where to look and all of a sudden started felling a bit suffocated. She brought a hand to her forehead, distubed by the chaos arouns her.

-Stop! Fucking stop it! - she yelled, groaning from frustration. Everyone stopped talking while the girl started to feel her eyes prickle with tears of frustration.

-Why is never, ever a single day if peace in here? There's always someone around, making a mess, making noise, complaining- - she almost stumbled on a piece of ceiling that had fallen, but Bucky and Tony were right behind her and helped her stabilize herself, but she shoved them off.

-Leave me be!- she exclaimed frustrated. She huffed, trying to take a deep breath. -I'm moving out.- a chorus of 'What' arose. Bucky stepped forward and grabbed her wrist gently.

-What are you talking about?- his eyes showed confusion and panic.

-And when would have you decided this stupid thing?- Tony crossed his arms and went straight up 'Tony Stark' on her. Y/n rolled her eyes, ignoring both questions and walked out of the now damaged library. Helen followed suit.

-At least wait for Steve to return!- Wanda said. Thor jumped down, through the new hole in the ceiling and followed her like the others.

-Y/n, we're sorry! Look, I'm gonna fix the ceiling myself okay? Please don't go- Y/n's ached to see them upset, but she was tired. Too tired. She was afraid that if she had stayed more than she could withstand, their relationships could've been ruined. That was the last thing she wanted. She didn't knew exactly what was that overwhelmed her so much. She felt constantly tired and in pain, all the noise, number of people..it had become just too much. She needed to finish this pregnancy alone, or at least in a more quiet place.

She stopped in her tracks and exhaled silently. Her eyes passed through everyone in the room. Even in that moment, they were decimated because of the mission, yet there were still eight people in the room. When normally it would've been around 15. That's too many people.

-It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault, specifically. I just.. I feel overwhelmed. There's too much going on here at the tower. And for me it's like seeing life go on without being able to do anything. I need some space, okay? It won't be forever. Hell, if everything goes well it's gonna be a month, at best. But I really, really need a break. I am going to pack and leave by afternoon, when Steve returns, just send him to the address that I'll leave for him. Okay? I love you guys, you're my family and I wouldn't be where I am today without you. Its just temporary.- she smiled softly, trying not to get emotional. Wanda was visibly upset, on the verge of crying. The others just looked sad, maybe disappointed. But nobody said anything, so she turned her heels and went straight to her room.

-

By five pm she and Helen were already gone. The older woman called them a cab, the driver took care of their stuff and then they were gone. Y/n was silent during most of the trip, both because of the extreme tiredness and sadness. She never changed home since she moved to the tower. She also thought about what she would tell Steve. She knew she couldn't contact him, so she didn't. They had left two days prior, so it was a bit early to know when he'll be coming home. But she knew a hundred percent that he would've gotten to her even before going home.

The two women were headed to the older one's house, which was in Avalon, New Jersey. Helen had told her about her beach house, quite far from the city. Y/n did actually fall asleep after the first hour or so, they had around three in total so she didn't worry about not waking up. By her surprise though, she did sleep throughout the whole trip, and yet, she was still tired. In those days her head gave her particular discomfort, so any noise at all really disturbed her.

Helen woke her up gently when they arrived, the she helped her get out of the car. Meanwhile the driver, which was a quite young man, probably around her age, which was 27, with curly black hair, stubble and dark green eyes, took their luggage off of the trunk.

-That's all. Have a nice stay.- he smiled slightly. Y/n frowned, what about the money?

-How much do we owe you?- she asked sweetly. He waved his hand dismissively, going back in the driver's seat.

-The lady already paid me, I'm ok. Bye.- he waved goodbye and drove off. Y/n and Helen dragged the luggage insider her villa, by which the girl definitely was taken aback.

-You didn't tell me that you live in a Villa?-

-Maybe, but I did tell you that being a private midwife pays well. I also need space if I want to take people living with me.- she explained. The first thing that you could see was the huge open space which showed a not exaggeratedly large living room with a window door on the right, on the left there was the kitchen and in the middle a staircase.

It wasn't very decorated, but the light palette of the whole place defines had a calming effect. Y/n was so used to the high rise and high technology of the Avengers tower that she had almost forgot how nice and intimate a normal house could be.

Helen showed y/n around a little, then ended up in the spare room, which had a large bed, a balcony and some essential forniture pieces such as a wardrobe, a vanity, a full length mirror, an armchair.

-This is really nice, Helen.- she smiled tiredly, caressing her big belly while she walked around. But as she was walking towards the balcony, she had a slight attack of vertigo, and her knees buckle for a second. The woman was at her side in a few seconds, helping her onto the bed. Y/n huffed, the back of her hand on her eyes.

-Why am I so shitty? I was pretty good until a few months ago.- she whined, and Helen shook her head while she stroked her arm.

-Every pregnancy is different, Y/n. You're just tired, from the car and that chaotic place.- the disdain in her voice didn't really pleased Y/n, but she didn't say anything. She didn't have the strength and besides, it's not like she was particularly liked at the tower anyway.

-I'll get you a tea, be right back.- Y/n chuckled.

-I drank more of your Hungarian tea than water in the last months.- Helen pulled a tight smile.

-Well, it is a traditional recipe for pregnant women. Not that you seem to mind it either.- the girl relaxed her eyes and discarded her sneakers to the ground.

-No, it has a peculiar taste but not bad.-

-Good.- and with that she left the girl alone. Helen went down the stairs, and turned on the stove to warm some water. She then opened a drawer, forcing the wood layer to come up by using her fingernails, pulling out an old fashioned phone.

She went to the contacts and dialed the only one there was. She waited a few minutes, when someone picked up.

-Igen?-

-Közeledünk. Készülj fel.- she said, hanging up.

************

Translation from Hungarian: ‘Yes?’ ‘We’re close. Get ready.’

Hiii, this is quite a short chapter but I wanted to end it with ✨ suspense ✨ the next one tho is gonna be way longer. Lastly, friendly reminder that my taglist and my ask inbox are open!

***********

Taglist : @polarcrystall @a--1--1--3  @jessyballet​

#run away series #run away #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Ladywinterwitch #thor #wanda maximoff #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel characters #mcu au #MCU #Marvel MCU #captain america #Winter Soldier #Black Widow #steve rogers smut #steve #captain america civil war #Avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #marvel series #vision #tony stark #Avengers infinity war #avengers endgame

[boxofbadaddiction]

Just Call Me Cupid

Fred Weasley x Reader

George Weasley x Reader(Platonic)

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List:

Prompts: 15, 24 & 25

"Could you be anymore annoying?"/"Maybe I can make it up to you by...taking you roughly in the barn."/"[Y/N or Character] DOESN'T SHARE FOOD!"

Warnings: Swearing (always)

-Part One-

You know how the story goes. Three mischievous Gryffindors bonding over pranks and countless detentions. Becoming inseparable during their first year, and sticking together through thick and thin. That was the relationship between Y/n y/l/n and Fred and George Weasley. She fit into their lives perfectly. Her humour was exactly like theirs. She liked the same sports. Had the same classes. The same friends. Although one would wager that y/n held all the common sense of the three, always sure to rein the Twins in if they were edging too close to a line they shouldn't cross.

They used to joke she were the "Missing Triplet". Unknowingly separated from them at birth. They'd even gone as far one year to dye her hair fire orange, referring to her as Y/n Weasley for months.

With every passing holiday the Twins would bring y/n home with them. Her home life wasn't particularly grand, it was adequate in a way but had nothing on life at the Burrow. Molly welcomed her everytime with open arms. It wasn't uncommon for her to stay the entire holiday, start to finish, as she got along so well with the family, all of whom loved her like their own sister and, in Mr and Mrs Weasleys case, own daughter. So of course this Summer would be no different.

As the second week of their holiday came around; Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Harry, Y/n and even Hermione found themselves left to their own accord for the day as Percy and Mr Weasley had work and Mrs Weasley had errands to run.

The group woke to a fully prepared breakfast waiting for them and a completely chore-free schedule, a rarity in this home.

"Morning all" y/n greeted cheerily as she entered the kitchen. "Someone's happy this morning" "I'm happy every morning, Georgie." She replied as she made her way around the table with a spring in her step. "Oo, toast!" She exclaimed reaching for a single piece balancing on the edge of Ronald's plate, which earned her a stern slap across the wrist from the boy. "Damn. Relax! It's not like I went for a piece of bacon..." "Careful, y/n/n" began Harry from beside her, "that's a sure fire way to lose a hand." He joked. "Oh, right! I'm so sorry I forgot!-"

"RONALD, DOESN'T SHARE FOOD!" everyone, aside from Ron, shouted amusedly before falling into loud laughter. This had been a long running joke amongst the friends and family after Ron had yelled the line at dinner one night years ago. Y/n had to grip the back of Rons chair to stop from falling as he scowled at the groups mockery. "Oh sod off. HEY!" Y/n stole a piece of bacon from Rons otherside while he had been distracted. "Payment for one viscous assault on your favourite sister." She goaded taking a bite from the crispy piece of meat. "You're not even related." "Not yet." Smiling across the table she shot George a wink. George grinned, tongue pressed to cheek as his brow raised amused by her insinuation, in response he pursed his lips blowing her a kiss.

Y/n finally made her way around the table to a vacant seat by Freds side, chuckling lightly at Rons uncomfortable expression.

"Wow y/n, can't believe you'd really settle for the less-attractive Twin." Fred feigned insult as George threw a piece of crust at him. "I didn't. Otherwise I would have chosen you, wouldn't I?" She smiled innocently.

Fred's jaw dropped open in shock at her words. Though he fought hard to contain the smile and laugh forming on his lips, Fred was unsuccessful, cheeks grinning as a chuckle made it's way from his throat.

"WOW!" he placed a hand to his chest, "wound me why don't you?" He looked back to his gathered friends and family, all of whom were laughing at his dramatic reaction. "That's my girl", George spoke fondly, leaning back in his chair, hand hung behind Fred to y/n as they low-fived.

"Some 'best friend' you are." Fred continued, "and GINNY! I can't believe you would laugh at such a heinous lie! I thought we were closer than that!" Ginnys face were so red it near rivalled her hair at this point. Fred turned his attention back to y/n to find her face a similar shade, light joyful tears brimming in her eyes. He stuck his bottom lip out in a fake pout. "Awwe...Freddie..." she tried to speak, "come on, you know you're my favourite" she leant into his side - hugging his arm - placing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"OI!" her 'future husband' protested, "I'm right here!" "Sorry Georgie, gotta keep my options open. You know how it is."

The remainder of the meal was spent discussing how to fill in their first day home alone for the holidays. Everyone was excited at the prospect of a potential Quidditch match, except Hermione - the only one who doesn't play the sport, and the sloppy ground outside from the past days rain didn't appear very inviting in her opinion. Their plan was thwarted regardless as Ginny reminded the Boys of their current grounding.

Fred, Ron and George had all been forbidden access to their brooms and Quidditch equipment for two weeks, after accidentally breaking a kitchen window with a bludger - released too soon near the house. In the end everyone simply parted into their own groups.

Ginny and Hermione disappeared to her room, Ron and Harry to his, while the remaining three spent the day outside.

Fred, George and y/n were partaking in some 'friendly' bits of competition to occupy their time. It started innocently enough; "let's see who can throw a Garden Gnome the farthest". But naturally, as all three individuals were highly competitive, it escalated. It was all out War by the afternoon.

Basically, they were now running around, breathless and sweaty, chucking mud cakes in their "opponents" direction. A total free for all.

As a cramp set in y/ns ribs she sought shelter behind a shrub by side of the Burrow, trying desperately to spot either Twin and failing. She was thankful however for the opportunity to catch her breath. That was untill...

"Tired are we?" Startled by the sudden voice y/n jumped eye's locking with those of George who stood far too confidently before her, hands tucked behind his back, as he smirked. Y/ns eyes widened, this couldn't be good. Her eyes quickly scanned the surrounding area. No sign of Fred. That definitely isn't good. She began stepping away slowly from the redhead infront of her who cocked his head at her movements slowly following. Smile only growing as he lowered an arm revealing a metal pail filled with sludge.

"Oh God. George, please no!" Her arms came out in defence, "I'm begging you...Georgie, please don't!" Though worried and pleading she couldn't help the nervous smile and giggle that came to the surface. Eyes staring into his "I'll do anything! Mate, please just...put. down. The bucket."

George let out a long sigh, contemplating, as he swung the pail loosely in his hand staring to it's contents. With a dramatic roll of his head and a groan he dropped the bucket by his feet. "Oh thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!" Y/n repeated, relieved. "Had you done that I'd never get my chance..." Georges brows furrowed, "chance for what?" "THIS!" Y/n scooped up a large mud patty from her feet, hurtling it directly across the side of his face, laughing maniacally. Though as George slowly scooped away the gathered muck on his eye, flicking it off his fingers, she couldn't help but feel bad. A little anyway. Offering a half-hearted apology as he wiped away the dirt by his mouth.

"Oh you're sorry, are you?" He began advancing on her again, "to think I took it easy on you, my 'loving' wife-to-be." He added sarcastically. Y/n gulped as she noticed the new found determination held in his gaze. Laughter turning nervous as she backed away. "I'm sorry. Maybe I can make it up to you by...taking you roughly in the barn?" "Mmm tempting. But I have a better idea" he smirked wickedly. Y/ns face dropped as she made to run, but she wasn't fast enough, George wrapped his arms around her body holding her tight in place. "Not so fast, love." He lifted her from her feet walking blindly back towards the house. "No! Please no!" She whined through giggles, "Geoooorge" "It's not me you should be worried about, sweetheart." He whispered to her ear. Huh?

"Oooooh FREDDIE!" he called over his shoulder. FUCK! Where was Fred!?

George turned sharply on the spot and y/n suddenly found herself face to face with one Fred Weasley, complete with bucket. Only this one wasn't the same from earlier, it was bigger. And filled with...what was that? Oh god. Ice.

"Woah y/n/n, you look really flustered. Reckon you might need to cool off." He grinned. "Freddie, I was thinking exactly the same thing." Georges grip on y/n tightened as she began to squirm furiously. Pleading them not to. Fred raised the bucket in his arms as she slipped to the ground, George pinning her down and tugging back the side of her shirts collar.

Fred leaped into action, pouring the buckets contents over her exposed shoulder so the ice would fall down her back as well as down her chest. Y/n squealed at the brisk temperature change. Breath hitching and shuddering in response. The boys jumped back as she scrambled to her feet, shaking the material of her shirt to lose the ice still clinging beneath it. Various curses and insults being shot to the twins whilst doing so.

"Prats." She shivered, "the both of you. Prats." All three couldn't contain their laughter at this. George excused himself for a moment to rid his eye of a few pesky grains of dirt under his eyelid.

He dunked his head under the tap of the kitchen sink in order to rinse his eye, and face while he was at it, clean before filling himself a glass of water having become quite hot from all the running he'd done this afternoon. A sudden yell pulled his attention out the window.

Chuckling as he watched Fred frantically running from y/n who held the bucket of mud George had threatened her with earlier.

Fred was running backwards with his arms raised trying desperately to bargain his way out of his punishment. George could only just make out the conversation carrying on in the moment.

"Come on, said I was sorry didn't I?" "Why don't you put the bucket down and I'll run you a bath" "I have a stash of chocolate frogs upstairs you can help yourself to!" George was amused by that line in particular as he knew for certain that stash was well and truly gone, days ago, as he and y/n had helped themselves to it whilst he showered.

Fred were a fairly safe distance away as he out manoeuvred his friend easily with such long legs and lack of bucket. He probably could have kept up their little dance for some time, enough for her to admit defeat, if he had not tripped back over his own feet. George snorted at the sight, water nearly shooting from his nose, as his brother fell flat on his back. Y/n seized her moment. Standing above him with bucket raised smiling.

Many 'please's, and 'y/n's and of course countless 'no's falling from Fred mouth, all in vain as the bucket tipped above him. Contents hitting directly to his chest and covering him in filth. George really wished he had a camera right about now.

"What are you laughing at?" Ginny had appeared, grabbing a glass of water for herself. "Y/n getting revenge." "Why aren't you out there?" "To avoid exactly that happening to me." The two watched as Fred stood, wrapping himself around y/n to smear mud over her body as well, swaying them side-to-side dramatically as he did so. Muffled shrieks came from her mouth which was pressed tight against his chest.

"Mum's going to have a field day with you three." Ginny commented, placing down her cup as she ascended the staircase. George inhaled sharply as his jaw clenched at the thought. His eyes scanned the yard...they had made quite the mess. He wondered if they'd ever be allowed to play Quidditch again. Or even be allowed out of the house for that matter. His thoughts were cut short as his attention fell back to his brother and best friend.

They'd stopped rough-housing. Y/n pushing back from him with a huff. She stood before him with a pout, covered completely in muck. Fred was laughing haughtily at the sight as he took a step forward, sweeping a dirty piece of hair behind her ear. His fingers delicately traced her cheek bone and down toward her lips which had parted slightly as she stared at him. His head was hung towards her as he gazed back, hand now resting just below her jaw. Both slowly leaning closer...

The moment was over as quickly as it'd began, by Fred clearing his throat and dropping his arm, both hands finding his pockets and standing back a pace. He had said something about needing a shower to which y/n laughed awkwardly, avoiding any further eye contact.

"Ho-ly FUCK!" George exclaimed to himself as realisation hit him like a bag of bricks. "They fancy one another" his eyes were wide. How hadn't he noticed before?

The way their eyes seemed to linger on one anothers a tad longer than two friends would. The shameless flirting. The "innocent" light touches. How Fred always had his arm over her shoulder if he could. The quick kisses to their cheeks. The blushing. The way Fred tensed, white knuckled, when boys were 'too friendly' with y/n. The way y/ns teeth would grind as girls would fall over Fred. It all seemed so obvious now.

Without a second moments thought George bolted up the stairs.

Hermione and Ginny sat cross-legged on her bed, chatting casually about the upcoming school year and what excitement it may hold, when the bedroom door violently swung open. Slamming into the wall, one hot, sweaty and very much out of breath George clung to its handle.

The girls stared wide-eyed at the sight. "...yes?" Ginny asked curiously. Her brother was a sputtering mess, attempting to speak through deep burning breaths. "F-Fre-and y/...Fred and y/n!" He gasped, arms waved and flailing dramatically trying to make them understand him in his frantic state. "They-they're...they fancy one another!" He finally exclaimed before clutching his side painfully, "Oh, cramp".

Ginny and Hermione looked at one another with identical blank stares before shrugging simply, "We know" they spoke. "You KNOW!?" "It's pretty obvious." Said Hermione. A deep, frustrated, sigh left Georges throat, his head rolled and he flopped heavily into the small space between both girls, the action causing them to bounce.

"Could you be anymore annoying?" Ginny groaned but George ignored her, "This is unbelievable." "Is it though?" His sister questioned. "They're always all over one another. Always staring when they think the other's not looking." "Not to mention they're perfect for one another." Hermione giggled " "He stops her from stressing too much over school work, keeps her out of her shell when she's struggling. And she very well may be the only person on the planet capable of settling him down when he gets worked up."

"Do you think they know?" George asked, eyes fixed to the ceiling. "Not a chance" "Absolutely not." The girls answered. "Look how long it took you to realise, and you're their best friend." Added Hermione causing Georges brows to furrow. She had a point. They'd spent nearly every day together since they met in their first year. Practically attached at the hip and yet it only clicked now.

He couldn't quite wrap his head around how he was feeling at the moment as too many thoughts flooded his mind.

Was he worried? Excited? What if they dated? Would they hang out with him less, as a result? Would it work out? What if they broke up!?

"My best friend and my brother..." he wondered aloud, tone sceptical. The girls remained silent as George thought, chewing his cheek. The atmosphere was tense as they worried over his reaction. That was until a wide smile crept its way across his face. "My best friend and my brother." He spoke louder, more assured, with a curt approving nod. "I'm gonna make it happen." He stated matter-of-factly as he lifted himself from the bed, making his way to the door.

"And how, pray tell, are you going to manage that?" "Easily, my dear sister." George looked over his shoulder as he grabbed the doors handle, "Just call me Cupid." He winked, quickly shutting the door as he left with a smirk.

#hp imagine #hp fan blog #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #fred weasley x reader #George weasley x reader #fred weasley #George weasley #prompt fic #fred weasley imagine

[bikerjongho]

in the coop | kang yeosang

genre: humor

character: college student!yeosang ft. college student!wooyoung

description: Yeosang and Wooyoung hatch and execute a plan to steal a chicken from a county fair to save it from the butcher.

word count: 3.1k

warnings: a little bit of swearing

author’s note: happy birthday yeosang!! <3 a gift for you. eat lots of chicken today! thank you for entertaining atiny with your humor and kindness. and leif, I hope you enjoy this especially, because I wrote this with you in mind. <3

taglist: @itsapapisongo @mangomingki @irehlevant @blueprint-han

The county fair was a treat to behold once a year. Though the smells were less of a treat to witness - filled with smells of starchy food and sweaty children, Yeosang and Wooyoung had to adapt to ignore it. Wooyoung did this by buying an enormous and sugar-coated funnel cake. When he dove into it while the two of them walked around the fairgrounds, a bit of powdered sugar dusted his nose. 

Yeosang opted for a corndog. It was less messy and perhaps a bit healthier in comparison with the funnel cake. "You're going to have an awful stomachache when we leave," he said while he watched Wooyoung shove an absurdly large piece of funnel cake into his mouth.

"And?" Wooyoung said between chews, the powdered sugar on his nose that Yeosang had not bothered to mention making him look like a white Rudolph. "When else can I have funnel cake?"

Wooyoung was right, the fair was the only place Yeosang could think of that actually had funnel cake. But he wouldn't be surprised if Wooyoung birthed a food baby and a stomachache the next day. Yeosang took another bite of his corndog and decided not to push the matter.

They had been at the fair for a few hours now, going on rides that made their stomachs rearrange themselves and gave some usage to their vocal chords while they screamed. They were on break now, enjoying their dinners and pondering what to do next while their food settled.

Wooyoung had suggested they play tented games, like throwing ping pong balls onto the top of glass bottles or throwing balls to knock down clown faces in order to win a prize at the end of it. But Yeosang decided against it. "Those games are so incredibly rigged, we'd just waste our money because it's impossible to win," he said, so they both ignored the heckling game owner that tried to sell them balls so they could play his game.

"So what do we do?" Wooyoung pushed. "Stare at the farm animals?" He asked, and then gestured to the animal exhibition that was growing closer to them in the distance.

"Exactly!" Yeosang grinned. He was actually excited to see the animals, but Wooyoung groaned.

"Wouln't that be boring?" He whined.

"Not at all," Yeosang said, waving his corndog stick at him. "The animals are cute and we can compare them to our friends. I swear I saw a sheep that looked just like Seonghwa."

At the mention of making fun of their friends, Wooyoung's face broke out into an enormous and evil grin. "Then let's meet these furry friends!" He said and marched ahead of Yeosang to the cow barn.

Upon entrance to the barn, they were met with the pungent smell of animals. Yeosang and Wooyoung crinkled their noses at the same time. A cow mooed at them as greeting.

"Is that hay?" Wooyoung conversationally asked the cow, referring to the food it was eating, then directed the question at Yeosang.

"Like if I know," Yeosang shrugged. "Probably." He walked over to Wooyoung and pulled out a water bottle from Wooyoung's backpack and took a long drink. It was sweltering outside. And although the sun had descended from its peak a few hours ago, the heat still stung.

Wooyoung was closely inspecting the line of cows cheerfully eating hay and swishing their tails. "I think Hongjoong would enjoy being a cow," he said wisely. "Seems like a chill life. He always complains about stress."

"That one kind of looks like him," Yeosang laughed and pointed at one that did have some resemblance to Hongjoong.

They traversed to another area of the barn and found more animals - pigs, goats, sheep, llamas, geese, bunnies, and chickens. A goat was there to greet them with a loud and piercing bleat. "Jongho, is that you?" Wooyoung said as he smiled at the vocal goat.

"There's Seonghwa," Yeosang said and was quick to point out the sheep he had talked about earlier, resting in a pen.

"Yunho," Wooyoung said and gestured towards a particularly tall llama with a long neck.

"San," Yeosang said, and pointed to a pig pen. One of the pigs was having a blast and running around the pen excitedly. "And Mingi," he continued, gesturing to another pig peacefully sleeping in the corner.

"Yeosang," Wooyoung said, causing Yeosang to turn towards his friend, only to find out that he was being compared to a chicken.

"I'm not a chicken," he said, offended. He raised his eyebrows and pointed to a patch of honking geese near the pigs. "Wooyoung."

Wooyoung only took the geese as a compliment. He grinned like a little kid and honked himself. "Do the chicken dance for me, Yeosang," he bantered.

"Shut up," Yeosang said sweetly. But he had to admit, the chickens were extremely interesting. In his opinion, they were the best animal at the fair. It might have been because he loved to eat chicken, but the chickens he came by as he walked around their pens came in beautiful browns, reds, oranges, and blacks. Some of their eggs even came in different hues. When he walked by one, it pecked its beak towards him and made him smile. So he was in Wooyoung's line of vision, he silently did the chicken dance in front of a light orange variety.

"Amazing," Wooyoung breathed and walked closer to him. He peaked at the orange chicken that Yeosang was nearby. "Aw, this one is cute."

"But he didn't win any prizes," Yeosang said and gestured to the other chickens around them. While some chickens had beautiful multi-colored ribbons that announced they had won in some sort of category, this orange chicken had a small, simple, and drab white ribbon.

"Participation," Wooyoung said, ogling the single ribbon on the chicken's cage. "That's silly. He's a stunning bird. A true specimen of chicken." The orange chicken pecked at the cage in response to Wooyoung's compliment.

"Taken an interest in Mr. Clucks, eh?" A man said, coming from behind them. He wore worn blue jeans, sneakers, and a yellow plaid shirt. He was older, but the little twinkle in his eye that appeared when he smiled suggested he was young at heart. "I'm the owner of him and a few other animals in this exhibition," the man clarified.

"It's too bad he didn't win anything," Wooyoung said, always eager to talk to someone. "He's really quite a nice-looking chicken."

"It really is too bad," the owner nodded. "I send my non-winners to the butcher, unfortunately." He said this casually.

Yeosang and Wooyoung looked at the chicken, Mr. Clucks, and then back at the owner, who gave them a smile.

"The butcher?" Yeosang repeated. He couldn't have meant that. Perhaps it was just a joke. He knew, rationally, chickens had to be killed in order for him to enjoy fried chicken, but now he knew this chicken. He couldn't just die now.

"I know, it's unfortunate," the owner sighed, and Yeosang couldn't argue with him. He gave a smile to the owner and looked back at Mr. Clucks, adamantly pecking the ground, oblivious to his fate.

"I can't believe he'd just drop him like that," Yeosang said to Wooyoung after the owner had gone off to talk to other fair-goers. "This poor chicken will die because he wasn't good enough? Mr. Clucks doesn't deserve that." He looked back at the orange chicken with a saddened expression.

"Nothing we can do about it, though," Wooyoung shrugged while Mr. Clucks pecked at the ground some more. "Unless we were to steal him, but that's impossible. He's in that cage."

Yeosang nodded, unable to keep his eyes off of the chicken. "I really wish we..."

But Yeosang trailed off. On other cages, a small lock kept the door of the cage secure. But on Mr. Cluck's cage, the lock was both unlocked and broken. It would still prevent Mr. Clucks from getting out of the cage, but all Yeosang would need to do would be to slide the lock off of the hook that it was on. 

Wooyoung noticed what Yeosang was seeing. "Yeosang, no. Absolutely not."

"But he's going to die," Yeosang pushed, his heart beginning to race. Could they save Mr. Clucks?

"Yeah, just like a lot of chicken!" Wooyoung hissed. "The same chicken that you gouge down about four times a week. And what if we get caught? We're not exactly inconspicuous carrying around a goddamn chicken."

Yeosang pointed to Wooyoung's backpack that was coincidentally chicken-sized.

"Yeosang," Wooyoung groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. "Okay, I guess I don't want him to die either. But he's not going to be happy in my backpack. He'd get stressed being in an unknown and closed space. We'd have a clucking backpack for the rest of our time at the fair."

"Then we steal- no, rescue him when we leave," Yeosang said, nodding at Wooyoung, who looked like he wanted to pass out on the floor out of exasperation. "Come on. This is a perfectly dumb thing that we can do together. We'll laugh about it in a few years."

"Not if the chicken police catches us," Wooyoung said, but his tone was amused rather than scolding. "Fine. But after we lose our minds on a few more rides."

Yeosang's smile was brighter than the blazing sun. "Thank you." Yeosang took one last look at Mr. Clucks in his cage before the two of them exited the animal exhibition.

Wooyoung and Yeosang proceeded to let themselves go wild for the last few hours of the fair. They rode one wooden and rickety rollercoaster in the fair multiple times with the other screaming preteens. They went on it so many times that the ride attendant learned their names, thanks to Wooyoung's loud personality and penchant for never shutting up.

"Well, Wooyoung, Yeosang," said the attendant, a cap that displayed the fair's company logo on his blond hair, "have fun on the ride. Again." He seemed to linger a little too long on Yeosang, but both of the boys were too eager to go on the ride to notice his attention to him.

Wooyoung later dared Yeosang go to on a terrible yet exciting throw up-inducing ride that flipped and turned its riders in the air. Yeosang stood in line with his arms crossed while Wooyoung gleefully stood on the sidelines. But the tables turned when the attendant told Yeosang that a minimum of two people were needed for each seat on the ride, and no one else in the line was riding single. There was no greater walk of shame for Wooyoung as he climbed into the ride's seat next to Yeosang. It was Yeosang's turn to be gleeful. So, the two of them screamed their lungs out as they whipped through the air and the sun smiled down at them from above.

The sun soon disappeared from the horizon and cooled down the fair. There was less light and more people crowding the fairgrounds, giving perfect conditions for the rescue of Mr. Clucks.

Wooyoung and Yeosang darkened the entrance to the chicken exhibition around eight o'clock. Wooyoung, armed with Mr. Cluck's red ride, his backpack, had a satisfied smile. Yeosang, eager to save his friend he had only met a few hours ago, made a beeline for the chicken.

"Mr. Clucks, hello!" He whispered as he slid the broken lock off of the cage while Wooyoung partially blocked him from other's view. There was only one other family with them, a mother and her screaming toddler, so they doubted she would pay attention to their thievery. The owner was also nowhere to be found, and the two of them had assumed he was tending to his other animals. The universe, it seemed, was optimized for thieves and discord this night.

Mr. Clucks clucked with fear when he was picked up by Yeosang from his cage, but all of the other chickens were also clucking. He was inaudible as he was placed carefully into Wooyoung's backpack and then zipped up.

"Oh, he's restless," Wooyoung muttered, now carrying the weight of poultry on his back. "I can feel him pecking my back."

"He's showing his love," Yeosang said and shut Mr. Cluck's now empty cage behind him. "Tomorrow, I'll go out and buy chicken food."

Wooyoung eyed him. "Yeosang, you're keeping him?" He asked, as if there wasn't a chicken in his backpack.

"What else am I supposed to do with him?" He asked incredulously, leading Wooyoung out of the chicken exhibition. It was luckily darker than when they had entered the chicken pens, so the small ruffling of Wooyoung's backpack was hardly noticeable. There was also enough screaming, laughing, and chattering from other fair-goers to deafen Mr. Cluck's clucking.

"Just let him go on the street?" Wooyoung shrugged. "You can't possibly take care of a chicken. Where will you put him?"

"I'm sure Pet Smart will have everything," Yeosang shrugged, weaving around a few of the fair-goers. They were almost at the exit of the fair. Once they were out of the gates, their rescue of Mr. Clucks would be a success.

"How was the fair?" The security guard that stood outside the fair asked, giving a serious smile as he checked to make sure Yeosang and Wooyoung had wrist bands.

"Egg-ceptional," Yeosang said at the same time Wooyoung said "im-peck-able." They then looked at each other with murder in their eyes.

The security guard, however, was not fazed. "Have a nice night," he said, and waved Yeosang, Wooyoung, and Mr. Clucks off.

Now that they were in the parking lot, Mr. Cluck's clucking was more audible. "Mr. Clucks, stop being so clucking- no, fucking loud!" Wooyoung hissed.

"It's fine, there's no one else around us," Yeosang reassured him. He could feel the adrenaline beginning to pick up inside him. They had done it, and Yeosang was so excited to show the rest of their friends Mr. Clucks.

"My backpack is going to smell like chicken for the rest of time," Wooyoung groaned as they reached Yeosang's car. He carefully placed down the backpack as he got into the passenger seat of the car and opened up the backpack. Mr. Clucks clucked as a greeting.

Yeosang peered over to look at their new friend. "Wonderful," he said, starting up the car. "Doesn't it feel good that we saved him?"

"What I'm feeling is itchy scratches on my back from all of his pecking, but sure," Wooyoung said, not taking his eyes off of Mr. Clucks. The orange chicken, now unzipped and a bit more free, seemed happier. Yeosang drove out of the parking lot.

"Get ready for your new home, Mr. Clucks," he said, turning smoothly into the lane that would take him home, "everyone is going to love you."

"What the hell?" Seonghwa said as a greeting when he walked into Yeosang's apartment. It was the next day, and Yeosang had gone out and bought all of the basic necessities for Mr. Clucks - a cage, chicken food, a chicken harness, and assorted clean up supplies. All of it sat in the corner of his apartment, while Yeosang himself was sitting on his couch. Mr. Clucks was perched onto his thighs and pecking aimlessly into the air.

"It's Mr. Clucks," Wooyoung said, leaning on the wall next to him with his arms crossed. "We stole him." He grinned while Seonghwa looked like he wanted to pass out.

Hongjoong entered the room next. He stared at Mr. Clucks for an absurdly long amount of time before saying, "Yeosang, I think your fried chicken is a bit undercooked." Seonghwa snorted.

"They stole him," Seonghwa added.

"From the fair," Wooyoung clarified.

"Why?" Hongjoong asked.

"Why not?" Yeosang said in reply, stroking Mr. Clucks' feathers.

Yunho and San entered Yeosang's apartment at the same time. "A chicken?" San asked, while Yunho sat right down next to Yeosang, admiring Mr. Clucks. Seonghwa and Hongjoong judged Yunho as he smiled and pet Mr. Clucks with Yeosang.

Jongho walked in with Mingi trailing behind him. While Jongho went through all five stages of grief upon seeing Mr. Clucks, Mingi was unfazed by Yeosang's new pet. "A chicken?" He asked. "What's his name?"

"Mr. Clucks," Yeosang grinned, which caused a few of them to look at each other with concern. Yeosang didn't seem to notice.

"Mr. Kang Clucks," Mingi finished.

At that, Yeosang brightened and Mr. Clucks let out a particularly triumphant cluck. "Oh, I love that name!"

"Or KC," San added. The room was oddly silent as Yeosang stroked his chicken, the only noise coming from Mr. Cluck's random clucks.

"Does the landlord know about this?" Hongjoong said finally, breaking the silence.

"He won't ever know," Yeosang said, smiling. "Well, unless he sees me taking it on a walk. But I think I'll be fine."

A pin could have dropped in the room. Seonghwa didn't take his eyes off of the harness, which had a leash, in the corner of the room. "A chicken," Hongjoong said finally, the unspoken spokesperson of the group. "Alright."

"I saved him from being killed," Yeosang felt the need to say. "And," he continued, looking at Wooyoung, "maybe I will end up releasing him or sending him to a good farm. But for now, I'll take care of him." He gave a grin to everyone, and as he stroked Mr. Clucks some more, it was clear that he dearly admired him.

But their smiles turned into held back laughter as Yeosang bent down and began dressing Mr. Clucks into a leashed harness. "I'll take him on his walk now," he said, placing Mr. Clucks down onto the floor wearing his new harness.

"Have a nice walk," a few of them echoed as they watched Yeosang and his domesticated poultry exit the apartment.

"A chicken," Seonghwa echoed now that Yeosang was gone. Jongho was already pulling out his phone and setting himself by the window to record Yeosang walking the chicken like it was a dog.

"I think the chicken is kind of cute," Yunho shrugged. "And it's admirable of him to give a bit of his time and money for the little guy."

"But a chicken," Seonghwa said. "A chicken."

They all grinned at that. But Yeosang was Yeosang, and as he walked outside with his winged and clucking pet, the rest of them felt a wave of respect and love for him.

And that was the sweet part about Yeosang - despite his love for eating chicken, he had a heart of gold and cared for unseen animals. And that allowed all of them to look at him at a new angle that, until now, none of them had previously noticed.

#ateezlovenet #kdiner #destinyverse #prism.nw #ateez #yeosang #wooyoung #yeosang imagines #wooyoung imagines #yeosang blurbs #wooyoung blurbs #yeosang drabble #wooyoung drabble #yeosang fic #wooyoung fic #ateez blurb #ateez fanfic #ateez drabble #sfw #anne's writing #f: ateez #f: yeosang

[rhodcnite]

hello  lovelies,  i'm  frankie  &  i  am  very  happy  to  be  here.  this  is  my  one  &  only  baby,  orli.  for  now,  she’ll  do !  i  finally  get  to  write  with  rachel’s  gorgeous  face ™  because  i  don’t  think  i’ve  had  the  chance  so  i’m  100%  excited  to  play  this  mama.  full  disclosure:  i’m  not  as  smart  as  orli  &  she  has  the  brains  to  be  the  powerful  woman  that  she  is,  but  i’ll  try  my  best  lmao.  anyways,  please  ❤️  this  post  if  you’d  like  to  plot  &  thank  you  for  reading  this  lame  ass  intro.

TRIGGER  WARNING(S):  mentions  a  child’s  death.

𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐈  𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐒  (  𝒔𝒉𝒆╱𝒉𝒆𝒓  )  is  a  𝐂𝐈𝐒  𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍,  𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄  year  old  𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄  𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐑  who  has  been  living  in  Moorbrooke  for  𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐒𝐈𝐗  𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒.  right  now,  they  are  currently  residing  in  𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄  𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄.  it  has  been  said  that  they  look  suspiciously  like  𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐋  𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐙  and  if  they  had  to  choose  a  song  to  describe  themselves,  they  would  choose  𝐍𝐎  𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐁𝐒  by  𝐓𝐋𝐂.

𝓽𝓱𝓮  𝓫𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓬𝓼 .

full name:     orli  seraphina  reynolds  (  née  landau  )

nickname:     none

age:     forty-nine  ;  (  49  )

date of birth:     october  27th,  1971

astrological sign:     scorpio

place of birth:     tba.

hometown:     tba.

ethnicity:     ashkenazi  jewish,  austrian-italian  (  white  european  )

nationality:     american

languages spoken:     english,  austrian  +  hebrew

religion:     judaism  (  non-practicing  )

gender + pronouns:     cis  woman  ;  she ╱ her

sexual orientation:     bisexual

romantic orientation:     demiromantic

profession:     aerospace  engineer

current location:     moorbrooke,  maine

marital status:     married

𝓱𝓮𝓻  𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂.

family  meant  everything  growing  up.  orli  was  raised  in  a  tight-knit  jewish  household.  they  had  their  moments  like  any  other  family,  yes,  but  in  her  eyes,  they  weren’t  dysfunctional.  having  two  siblings,  however,  was  a  different  story—  the  three  still  got  along.

an  honors  student  becomes  a  salutatorian.  she  was  the  second-highest  ranked  student  when  she  graduated  from  high  school.  orli’d  give  tutoring  sessions  to  students  of  all  ages;  that  was  how  she  earned  some  cash,  would  make  it  make  sense,  and  never  judged  a  book  by  its  cover.  even  at  a  young  age,  she’d  see  potential  in  people...  which  was  a  rare  thing  to  witness.

failure  is  not  an  option!  a  lover  of  all  things  space-related,  orli  made  it  as  an  aerospace  engineer  through  sweat,  blood  and  tears;  failure  wasn’t  exactly  something  you  could  easily  escape  and  has  dealt  with  all  of  them,  especially  in  the  mid-90s.

23  year  old  gives  birth  to  a  baby  boy.  not  only  did  orli  marry  the  love  of  her  life,  her  husband,  they  welcomed  their  first-born,  james,  and  it  was  overwhelming.  she  was  happy  &  postpartum  was  no  joke.  she  pulled  through  for  him,  her  little  baby  boy;  her  family.  she  finally  had  one  of  her  own.  

never  underestimate  a  girl  by  vanessa  hudgens  plays  in  the  background.  WAIT,  this  song  describes  her  perfectly,  actually.  but  so  does  no  scrubs.  👀  anyways.  moving  on.

the  reynolds  becomes  a  family  of  six.  orli,  ethan,  james,  clara,  elizabeth  &  albert  —  one  big  happy  family.  before  james  was  welcomed  into  the  world,  they’d  moved  to  moorbrooke,  maine —  a  beachside  town  seemed  ideal  to  raise  a  family,  whether  it  was  a  risk  or  not.  :-)

being  a  supportive  mother  comes  a  long  way.  orli,  as  a  mom,  is  incredibly  encouraging,  nurturing  &  protective.  she’s  allowed  her  kids  to  become  dreamers,  anything  they  wish  to  be  with  a  dash  of  positivity.  sure,  she’d  have  an  opinion...  but  as  long  as  they’re  alive  and  well,  that’s  a-okay.  however,  being  an  engineer,  she  thinks  a  bit  differently  but  is  open-minded  of  course.

works  hard,  plays  hard.  she  balances  work-life  pretty  well.  dedicates  100%  of  her  time  to  family  &  friends.  wants  to  give  her  family  memories  for  the  day  when  orli  is  no  longer  around  ...  so  she  tries  her  best  to  give  them  what’s  best;  a  good  influence  as  much  as  she  can.

death  tw.  when  tragedy  struck  the  family  with  albert’s  demise,  orli  was  heartbroken.  she  rode  in  the  ambulance  alongside  him,  but  he  died  on  the  way  to  the  hospital...  end  tw.  it  killed  her  spirit.  didn’t  work  for  a  time  due  to  the  grief.  did  everything  she  could  to  cope  with  the  loss  of  her  child.  managed  to  accept  it  and  keep  his  memory  alive  through  a  foundation  she  established.

a  house  full  of  crystals.   ever  since  then,  she’s  believed  in  healing  crystals  being  fundamental  for  physical  and  emotional  benefits.  spreading  good  energy / vibes.

𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭  𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼.

best  friend(s):  pretty  self-explanatory.

family  friends:  parents  that  have  raised  their  kids  at  the  same  time  and  spent  time  with  one’s  family;  or  just  about  anyone.

assistant:  someone  that  helps  her  keep  her  life  in  check.  she’s  not  authorized  to  have  one  but  it  would’ve  been  a  job  you  could  find  online  and  pays  them  a  pretty  good  sum  of  money...  or  they  could’ve  applied  through  the  company  that  orli  works  for.

mentee:  i’d  love  for  her  to  have  a  mentee.  it  doesn’t  have  to  be  influenced  by  science,  just  in  general.

ANYTHING  &  EVERYTHING...

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄.

first,  thank  you  for  making  it  this  far  by  reading  this  intro.  second,  orli  is  a  NEW  muse  so  forgive  this  mess  of  an  intro  lmao.  i  forgot  what  i  was  going  to  mention  but  please  plot  with  me.  i’ll  probably  write  a  better  bio  at  some  point...  in  a  few  days,  maybe.  but  anyways,  let’s  get  this  party  started  !  💃🏻❤️

p.s.  i  might’ve  fucked  up  the  timeline...  but  i’ll  get  it  organized  asap.  sorry.

#mbintro

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

You ask for prompts and I'm here again to seek new content to read: 3. How often do/can they see each other (due to living on different planets, having stressful jobs, etc) with Gashir (/Garakshir) 🤩🤩

 Eyyyyy. I am just gonna… casually fold into this… a little trans-Bashir as a treat…. because it’s trans day of visibility!!! Also I hc Cardassians as intersex, in the sense of they as a species don’t call themselves intersex, but their genders are far more loosely determined at birth, because there’s not really sexual dimorphism (or rather, there is, but it’s so many different factors that it’s not classified) and then gendering comes later in life depending on what role they’re supposed to play in society ahem – different post to make!

Also Garak has a tail in this, also casually.. also this got longer than intended… oops?

—– Letter Analysis ——

1.

Their lives have a sort of normality that many families in this day and age exist with. Space travel, careers that necessitate being off-planet for long stretches at a time, the struggles of being a representative for entire planets or systems, all of this isn’t out of the ordinary.

Still, it takes them a little while to adjust, if only because they spent so long not getting it together that now that they have, well, they want to savour it. On the flip-side their relationship functions much better than so many who enter into partnerships of some kind without fully considering the difficulties of spending so much time apart and inevitably crumble.

Because of all that time they know, without a doubt, that their lives are entwined for good, regardless of how much of it they spend without one another’s physical company.

They fall into letter-writing naturally. After all, they had been doing the same before, why stop now.  

2.

It has become something of a competition at this point: who can write the longest letter. Thus far, Julian is winning and Elim is still in the process of reading his when they see one another again. He pretends to be blasé about it, but Julian can read him easily these days. He wonders at the time when he couldn’t and can’t really picture it.

While Elim is giving him a back-handed compliment at the way he’s managed to fold three words worth of content into whole paragraphs, Julian realises that he’s never known anyone as well as he knows Elim. And every detail of himself is known in turn. From the scars of his chest surgery that he purposefully kept, to the ridges at the base of Elim’s tail, it feels like everything about them was perfectly made for the other.

It’s strange, how many tiny moments are filled with love, they both learn.

(After Elim sends him a letter of 3000 pages, Julian simply answers: You win).

3.

They consider what it would be like to have a family with the way their lives are run. Elim generally lives on Cardassia unless his diplomatic duties take him elsewhere, while Julian is hopping from emergency to medical find to distress call to conference.

Still, they approach the matter on the premise that it will happen. Their letters during these years follow a trajectory of thought with little variation, as they can’t actually be together for the discussion.

They discuss pregnancy – both of them are capable of bearing a child, but the time needed (nine earth months for humans, even longer for cardassians) makes it a challenging prospect. Moreover Julian and Elim, each for their own reason, have issues with concepts surrounding an uncontrollable force fundamentally changing their bodies.

It doesn’t take them long to agree that adoption was always the only option. Still there’s the matter of their careers being incompatible with children. Neither of them wants to put a child in harm’s way and both of their careers contain elements of danger. I believe, writes Elim drily and with an underlying sadness that Julian wishes he could heal, that this sixth assassination attempt may contain a sign that a child would not be particularly safe in my company.

4.

The way this resolves itself is oddly perfect for what they need and who they are and comes through both of their continued work with mixed-species war-orphans, who more often than not are homeless, ostrasized and suffering from any number of easily treatable diseases. Garak opens a series of institutions in the name of Ziyal and habitually lends a hand in their various gardens where he befriends a number of the kids.

This plan also works to ground a lot of Julian’s focus in the space of mixed-species research, specifically writing papers on the future of the galaxy needing to see species integration for the sake of these kids as an inevitability as cultures mix and to understand the medical and cultural implications thereof.

Kira and Ro get heavily involved on the Bajoran side of things – in general a bunch of adults from DS9 days come together to give kids a better chance than they had.  

Beyond that though, they come to realise that they’re okay on family. With these kids – many of whom they get to know personally over the years – with Molly and Yoshi O'Brien and Rebecca Sisko getting older and the two of them functioning as uncles, there’s more than enough for them to be getting on with on the children front: Elim and I were very happy to see you all again – Don’t worry, I’ll keep Yoshi safe – we’ll be making a stop at Bajor where Nerys is very excited to see him again –

Their circle is actually a sizeable, cross-galaxy household. They come to realise that it doesn’t matter if your family is someone you can’t see often, what matters is they’re all inhabiting the same space.

5.

They don’t argue often. With the lack of time they have together, what would be the point of raising petty squabbles. There are things like the time Julian forgot about a very important dinner that Elim was a guest of honour at, which opened up a box of the kind of loneliness Elim thought he’d overcome, but it wasn’t about anger or arguing, it was about the two of them figuring out that sometimes this not seeing one another was actually damned hard. It was about asking for forgiveness and receiving it even before the asking. It was about making sure that they wouldn’t let things ever be unsaid, because their time together – comparative to their whole lives – was always going to be so short.

The actual worst long-standing consequence is that Elim and Julian are political celebrities, and so whatever tabloid-equivalent exists publishes one thousand pieces on their apparently irreconcilable relationship. Julian finds himself referred to as everything from a “heartthrob who found he needed more,” to “a cheater who habitually has several affairs at once.”

It’s amazing, remarks Elim in his latest letter, how these kinds of spurious articles are written even today, and how they still don’t seem to know the facts. On that note I hope you have a wonderful time with Data, and Parmak sends his love from my lap - it’s making it very hard to write this.

6.

They’re both twenty years older by now, but things aren’t slowing down with their work by the looks of things. Julian’s work centres more and more on the various groups whose medical needs are considered less valid or even non-medical, because of their social status and who often have medical issues of kinds that don’t come up in normative societies – mixed-species, augments, A.I. (for awhile his standing suffers, when he argues that mechanical needs for A.I. ought to be taught in Starfleet Medical), non-bipedal species, Ex-B’s, Jem'Hadar, clones.

Elim keeps his Carrington Award on the wall for everyone to see. Partly to mess with him – To The Prestigious Winner of the CA – many of his letters begin for several years after, but mostly out of pride.

(In return and with as much love, Julian addresses him as Ambassador and Castellan – the joke evolves as they find ever more flowery titles for one another. Julian wins this one: My Dearest, the Ambassador to the United Federation of planets, Castellan of the Cardassian Union, Blusher when Being Whispered Compliments about the Length of Your Tail, Not-So-Secret Reader of Austen and Pratchett, Seducer of Doctors (No Doubt Currently Spluttering in Denial), Possessor of Biteable Ridges (Blushing Again, I Hope) and of My Heart… this opening continues a further four pages. The letter itself reads: I expect to land on Cardassia within the next three days. Surprise.)

7.

At the end of it all, Julian finally comes to Cardassia for good. Along the way it’s become his home more than any planet, station, starship, or system, for the simple fact that he’s been returning to Elim, and Elim is home.

There’s a strangeness to all the time they have. The walks they take, the languid mornings, the discussions of books they’ve read whilst in each other’s company, it’s all far more surreal than the years spent wanting to see one another again and catching whatever moments they could.

They can’t shake the habit of writing one another letters, even as they’re sitting in the same room. They don’t need to be long or well-formed any more, although occasionally silly competitions spring up, just for fun.

The one Julian’s reading right now, as Elim’s tail languidly curls around his waist, simply says: I am glad that you’re finally home – E

–— The End ——

Submissions for drabbles are now closed, thank you for sending me asks!

#Julian Bashir #Elim Garak #Garashir #ds9 #st: ds9 #star trek #fanfic #writing

[judgement-free-sideblog]

Ghosts from the rain forest

Summary: A simple rescue mission will bring him back to a place full of nightmares, and maybe this time he could find redemption. Situated in 1975, 2 years after the events of Skull Island.

James Conrad x Reader

Warnings: Violence, blood, wounds, mentions of war, cursing, implied smut, angst.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 2: Hilmi

Even when you were more than happy in the jungle in the middle of nowhere, and not having to deal with people, you couldn't deny that Bandar Seri Begawan was in fact a beautiful place, and the market of Tamu Kianggeh was always nice to walk through.

You have chose to take one more day in the city before your medicine shipment arrived tonight, and see the city some more, you even had chosen to dress up different and use one of the many dresses you bought but never use, it was nice to play the tourist for a change, even when the last time you were there you end up picking up a fight with some vendors and being stubborn enough that they end up humorously calling you Himli, that means peaceful or polite.

That's when you saw him, trying to buy some fruit from one of those sketchy vendors you have a love/hate relationship with, he was to put it on one word stunning, his dark blonde hair, perfect baby blue eyes, or maybe was the shirt he was wearing that make them bright that much, and the afternoon shadow over a perfectly sharp jawline. American maybe, after they left the country alone three years ago they have been popping up everywhere as tourists.

"That's a lot of money for a simple piece of fruit" He said to the vendor in a perfect British accent.

"Liying to tourists again Zikri?" You said in an authoritarian voice approaching them "You really are a menace"

"Ah Himli" He said part annoyed part happy to see you. "One can no longer make a decent way of living because you have to come and criticize me"

"Ten ringgits for a mango is decent?" The man said and you loved Zikri's shocked face.

"There there Prince Charming" You said winking at him "I'll buy your mangoes, just stay away from this man" you gave Zikri the 20 rn, and give the two pieces of fruit to the stranger. "Consider it a welcome to the island gift."

"Thank you, Himli was it?" He smiled at you with what of course was a perfect smile and you forgot to tell him your actual name "James Conrad" He offered you his hand.

"I prefer prince charming" You smiled back at him and shake the hand he offered you. "Aren't you a little far from your island?"

"A little, not as much as you, are you american?"

"From birth maybe, but haven't been there in ages, is way better here" You said honestly. "First time?"

"I have been before, actually, but it was not that great then, although 'm quite enjoying my visit so far this time" he gave you a look that you haven't recieved in a long time, a more than welcome look by the way.

"Do you want a beer?" You said to him and point to a near bar that you like, it was 5:00 pm and you have time until 10:00 at least, to pick up the cargo, "Do British play darts?"

"I'm better at pool, but sure let's go" he said and you walked him to the bar.

A couple of beers later and a lot of bad jokes next to the pool table and you were already cursing yourself because you have to go back to the middle of nowhere the next morning, and he was going to stay there with al his beautiful self alone.

A couple minutes later he was teaching you how to play, and the electricity that run through your back when he hold you in his arms was enough to make you lost touch with reality. By the time your mind tried to wake you up, you were already kissing against his hotel door, and by that time there was not much else to do, apart from opening the door and let your burning clothes fall to the ground and follow the pure instinct that was driving you.

"James we are ready" a young man voice said from the other side of the door hours later and make you wake up from the sheets you were covered with.

"Thanks Slivko, I'll be out in a minute" James said and make a shh sing to you with his long perfect finger.

"What time is it?" You said quietly, smiling at him and the sweet puppy eyes he have trying to make you stay in bed.

"Hey Reg, what time is it?" He asked the boy on the other side.

"Almost nine man, we are waiting, I'll be at the lobby."

"Fuck" you said standing up and quickly taking up your clothes "I'm so sorry, but I have to leave, this was... amazing. Thank you"

"You have nothing to thank for, if anything you have become my single happiest memory from this place" He said with dark shadow crossing his eyes and you were dying to ask what he mean but your seller was a dick and you had to flee.

"If you are still here tomorrow I promise you I'll give you a couple more happy memories" you kissed him one more time and walked out of his window, thankfully his room was on the ground.

You ran as fast as you could to put on work clothes, something your seller would respect and not that ridiculous dress. Noah was neither a good nor a bad man, he only followed an strictly business ethic, and for a man who robbed big hospitals to sell medicine and vaccines in the black market he was quite picky about punctuality and respecting previous arrangements, maybe it was just a British thing, you would have to ask James later. You smiled thinking on how well that have gone down, it have been quite some time since you feel like a normal woman, able to have a little romantic afternoon with a handsome man, he was definitely a nice change from the mercenaries you usually hang around.

This was definitely not what you have planned out of your life, you could still remember the you from ten year ago, that who believed she was helping shape the world into a better place by making cultivation practices more efficient, it was a dumb dream now, with all the devastation humanity had caused, especially with all the damage your government had created by using their precious Orange Agent, that's what have finally driven you apart from the big man, the idea that some day one of your creations could end up killing and damaging innocent people. You have seen personally the mutations and illness those substances could produce, and how men only following orders caused that damage without any remorse, that kind of men you truly hate, if there was anything that you couldn't tolerate in this world was soldiers, all of them pretending to be heroes when they were only glorified murderers...

You shake those thoughts out of your head and took the money for Noah in a bag, and walked into the night to the peers. Like always you wanted to be there before he and his man arrived.

"Always a pleasure making business with you Y/N" Noah said counting out the money "And as always my boys are ready to help you carry this precious cargo to its destination" He always made those fake ceremonious remarks that you didn't like. The boys as he called them were already packing the medicine into your truck and would scort you back to Borneo the next morning.

"You are a life saver" you smiled at him as fake as he did.

"Boss we found a rat" one of his man said suddenly appearing from behind one of the many containers that were at the peers, he was using a large gun to push a young looking man towards you, with his hands behind his head.

"What? Who is this little shit?" Noah said suddenly losing his charm "Y/N what are you playing here?" He took you rather harsh from the wrist and start shaking you.

"I haven't see him in my life" You said honestly, trying to make sense out of that bizarre situation. "You are hurting me Noah what the hell?"

"Well then he is just some nasty nobody, kill him" He said to his man, still not letting you go, and you were about to scream him to stop when an angry voice talked from the shadows behind you.

"I wouldn't to that if I were you, we have you surrounded so let the boy and Dr. Y/L/N go" you turned around in shock immediately when you recognize his voice.

"Captain Conrad?" Noah's voice sounded terrified and he let you go immediately and signaled his man to release the boy and then he turned at you total panic "You bring bloody SAS on me Y/N?"

"What? Of course not, wait what do you mean SAS?" You said looking confused at both men, James had come closer to help the young guy.

"Y/N? I thought your name was Hilmi" Now it was Conrad's turn to look confused.

"Would someone explain what the fuck is happening here?" The guy, Slivko was it? Said as confused as you.

"I don't bloody know, but I know this, I'm leaving, boys let the nice Dr. take care of her medicine alone." The five men with the cargo let the boxes on the ground and start walking towards their own vehicle "Please don't call me again" He said looking at you one last time. "Captain" he made one solemn bow to James and almost run out of there.

"What? No, Noah please wait!" But he was already away. "What the fuck is going on?" You turned angry to face Conrad "Did you have any idea of what you just did? And how in hell you knew I would be here? Captain" you said putting a lot of hate in the last word.

"Beg your pardon? How was I supposed to know that you were buying drugs from a bloody mercenary?!" Why the fuck was he angry? He was not going to stay waiting for medicine for a month "And by the way Doctor" Oh very mature Conrad "I thought your name was Hilmi"

"Oh excuse me, your majesty for not going around giving my profession and full name everywhere I go" Then the realization hit you like a lightning "How did you know I was here? You work for that annoying man from DC right?" Oh you were absolutely furious now. "I don't go peacefully when Mr Houston snap his fingers and he send a militar party to get me back, is that it? What if I said no? Are you going to put a gun on my head and force me to walk??"

"I work with Brooks Houston that's true" He started making his voice soft trying to de escalate the situation making you more mad. "But I believe we can found a way you can come back with us"

"Well is settle then" you said sweetening your voice too. "Reg was it?" You said at the boy that still looked pretty confused "Lift with your knees son, some of those boxes are heavy" you pay him on the back and then look back at Conrad "Tell the rest of your men if they are actually surrounding us that we leave at 5" He was about to say something but you were not going to allow it "If I have to come back to America at least I'm going to finish my work first, one month tops, is all I'm saying" He nodded angrily and made sing in the air with his hand and suddenly another 4 men appear and started loading the truck.

You walk away from them back to your hotel furious about the situation, of course he was not really interested in you, he was being paid to lure you back home, how could you be so stupid? You got in the shower and turned on the hot water so you could wash away his touch from your skin, this whole day was a mistake, one you would never make again.

#james conrad #james conrad imagine #james conrad x you #james conrad x reader #captain james conrad #captain james conrad x reader #captain james conrad x you #kong skull island fanfiction #reg slivko #Brooks Houston #tom hiddleston #angst #frenemies

[sunnyie-eve]

Somebody To Love (Part 20- Falling Of Queen)

(Ben!RogerTaylor)

Words: 2102

Warnings: Language

A/N: Sorry I haven’t been very active with the story. I’ve been busy and everyone.

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

London 1982

Felix just had his second birthday and Louisa had her first. Jim asked me to tag along today to an interview the bands was going to for the new album. Which meant I had to get a someone else to watch Felix because my parents were out of the country for a holiday. Lucky my brother Harry and his girlfriend said they would look after him for me today and whenever I need someone in the future.

"Why are you here?" Paul asks as I hope out of the car with Jim. "I told her to come. It's her job to be here too remember. Plus I made Alice my assistant to help co-manage the band." Jim says smiling at me and I follow him inside. "Jim, were you just being serious out there?" I ask as we get closer to the back room with the band. "Yes darling. I feel like you need a better position then just sewing the bands clothes. Now you'll help me keep the band on schedule, help with concert dates and more." He pats my back opening the door for me. "Thank you!" I hug him and Roger rushes over to me.

"Do I look alright? For the press?" He shows off his outfit making me laugh at him. "Umm Where's the tie you had leaving the house... add that then maybe you'll look better." I pat his chest going to sit by Brian and Deaky. "Fred looks like a mess." I sing quietly looking at him talking to Paul. "Probably high once again." Deaky shakes his head as I lean mine on him and throw my legs over Brian's lap. "Look Deaky, Alice is actually giving us attention." Brian says slapping my thighs. "She loves us again." Deaky shouts holding me in his arms. "I've always loved you guys. It's just I've been busy." I sit up and kiss their cheeks. "YOUR MY WIFE! BACK OFF ALICE!" Roger yells sitting on my lap.

"It's time." Jim tells the band and we all leave the room. "Please tell me you're going to take off those sunglasses." I look at Roger as I fix his outfit one more time. "Love you." He kisses me before following the guys out. "Alice dear, you can stand next to me." Jim motions for me to follow him. When the questions started it was all Freddie, Freddie, Freddie... with unnecessary questions that had nothing to do with the album. Brian looked at me and Jim and we just had the same look as him.

"I don't know, I haven't figured out love yet." Fred says to one of the reporter. "But it implies something else, Freddie." The same reporter says. "That might be a better question for Rog." Fred says looking at Roger. "Watch it." Roger says taking a drag of his cigarette then turns his head towards me. I cross my arms then pop my neck looking back at the press. They still go on and only ask Freddie questions about himself and not the band. Brian tries to get them to ask about the album but no one listens. It jus gets more louder and Fred snaps right back. I could tell he was going to crack at any second and then bam! He stands up starting to yell. "Okay, Thank you. Time is up." Jim says and the guys start to walk back. Roger walks over to me and takes my hand into his. "Fuck Freddie." He says as we try to walk throw the crowd.

"Roger, Alice is your marriage working? What was Fred saying about asking you?!" A reporter asks us making more follow us now. "No questions." Rog says pulling me closer to him. "Is that a no then? Are you cheating on your wife?" Another asks and Jim, Brian, and Deaky rush over to us. "We're perfectly fine." He says trying not to break like Fred did. "No more, questions. The press conference is over now." Brian says holding me close to him since Roger passed me to Brian to get in the car.

When we get in the car Roger starts to cruse up a store and I try to calm him down. "Rog, baby breath." I hold his hands and he glares at Freddie in front of him, "You started it." He points his finger at him and he just laughs at Roger. "Darling, I don't know what you're talking about." Roger's face starts to turn red. "Roger, Quit it please." I make him look at me and he just looks at me the whole ride trying to ignore Freddie and Paul.

~

"Oh my god, look at you!" I clap my hands at Freddie and he poses for me. I just arrived to the set for I Want To Break Free music video. "Where's Roger?" I ask and I see Brian walk towards me and I start to crack up. "How the hell did they get all those rollers in your hair?" I look at his hair and Deaky then joins us making me die more. "Just wait till you see your husband." He says and points towards the door he came out of and I quickly walk towards the door.

I open it to see Roger in his drag outfit of a school girl and I crack up making him get embarrassed. "Look at you!" I clap my hands and he stops me, "Stop, I'm embarrassed like this." He says making me giggle, "Why? You're bloody hot!" I give him a small kiss and he whines, "Stop!" He lets go of my hands and goes to join the boys. "Babe, you don't need to be embarrassed." I say wrapping my arms around his waist and he slaps my hands. "You know, I'd rather see you in this." He whispers turning around kissing me. "Nah, I prefer you in it." I wink going to go sit and watch them record.

Once they were done filming the music video one of the dancers took pictures of Roger, Brian, and Deaky on the couch. "Brilliant. Can I get up now?" Roger asks laying on his back across Deaky and I smile at them. "What is happening?" Roger asks as Deaky keeps him in place. "No, you can't." Deaky says and Brian joins in, "I wanna be in it." I shake my head walking up to them. "Get off me!" Deaky yells as Brian gets in him. "You are grown men acting like this." I laugh and Roger reaches for my hand pulling into the beg mess.

"Come on, guys! You gotta get out of this and back into normal clothes." I laugh trying to get up as they hold me down. "Ugh Fine." The all getting up going to their chairs and I follow Roger. "You know, I'm happy that you went with my idea I gave you because you pulled it off." I say taking off his makeup and wig. "You fine me attractive in this still?" He laughs and I nod my head. "I told you earlier didn't I." I kiss him and he holds me by my waist. "Now, have fun getting out of those tights baby." I wink at him while he leaves to go change.

~

"So why exactly is Fred calling everyone to meet up and again why do I have to come too?" I ask Roger as we go to see Freddie. "I don't know, he said he had something to tell us. And I drag you along because you're not only my wife but also part of the band too." He holds my hands as we park the car and the other two show up too.

"He'll be right out." Paul says walking into the room and we all take a seat and I sit on the same sofa as Deaky. Freddie walks into the room and is quite for a few minutes before speaking. "MTV banned our video. The youth of America. We helped give birth to MTV." He says turning to face us. "It's America. They're Puritans in public, perverts in private." Brian tells him and he shakes his head. "I'm never tour in the U.S again. And I'm the one being blamed for it. Not you, dear... whose idea, I believe, it was to dress up in drag. Not you... Not even you, who wrote the bloody song." Fred points at each member.

Freddie continue to say what everyone was calling him and that's he's tired of touring, which made all of us look at him. "Well I need a break." He says before going on, "I'm sick of it." He says not looking at us. "What are you saying, Freddie?" Deaky asks him and he stays quiet for some quite of time. "I've signed a deal with CBS Records." He says with his back still facing us and we all react differently. "You've done what?" Roger sits up all the way. "Without telling us?" Brian asks turning around. "What kind of deal?" Deaky asks.

"Look, I'm not saying we won't record or ever tour again. Queen will go on. But I need to do something different." He goes on and I was screaming on the inside not listening to him anymore. "A solo album?" Brian asks and Paul speaks up, "Two, actually. Back to back." I see Roger getting mad, "Another word out of you and I'll throw you out the bloody window. " Paul just looks away. "But that's years, Freddie. I mean... that will take years." Deaky sits up. "I don't believe this... how much?" Roger asks him and he does answer him. "What did they pay you?" He asks again and no answer. "I want to know how much they paid..." Fred cuts Roger off. "4 million!" He yells at him. "That's more than any Queen deal." I say shaking my head.

"Fred, we're a family." Brian says making Fred snap. "No, we're not! We're not a family! You've got families, children, wives. What do I got?" Fred shouts. "You've got 4 million dollars. Perhaps you can buy yourself a family." Deaky says. "I won't compromise my vision any longer." He says and Roger gets pissed again, "Compromise? Are you joking? You were working at Heathrow before we gave you a chance." Fred spins around very quickly, "And without me... you'd be a dentist... drumming 12/8 time blues at the weekend at the Crown and Anchor. You wouldn't even have your wife if it wasn't for me." He says then turns to Brian and I start to get mad.

"And you. Well you would be Dr. Brian May... author of a fascinating dissertation on the cosmos... that no one ever reads. And Deaky... for the life of me... nothing comes to mind." He tells the other two. "I studied electrical engineering. Does that meet your standards?" He lets him know. "Perfect." He laughs. "Dear Alice, you would probably have such a better life then being stuck with this band and your messed up husband. You just turned into one of his little fuck toys to play with your dumb heart. You stupid little slutty girl. " He smiles at me and Paul chuckles.Roger was about to grab him but I put a finger up to stop him, "Fred, Why didn't you just take the offer when Reid told you years ago? You basically fired him for no reason because he was just doing what someone else told him to do. Also Darling, I'm not the toy here anymore... You are one now. " I spit at him clearly pissed off with him and he stays quiet and begins to leave the room.

"You just killed Queen." Roger tells him. "Oh, give it a kiss one day. She might wake up." He says. "You need us, Freddie. More then you know." Brian tells him. "I don't need anyone." He says leave us and Paul gets up to follow him. "Told you." He whispers to me and I flip him off, "Fuck you."

"You said something about an offer in the past?" Roger asks me as I run my hand through my hair. "Yes, that's why Fred fired Reid. Paul talked Reid into telling Fred about a solo deal back then." I say looking at the floor. "And you didn't tell us?" He raises his voice at me. "Don't raise your fucking voice at me! I told you I didn't trust Paul and that he was up to something! BUT NO, you told me that I was stressed out with the baby!" I yell at him standing up to face him.

#ben!roger taylor #roger taylor #brian may #john deacon #freddie mercury #Queen #ben hardy #joe mazzello #rami malek #gwilym lee #bohemian rapsody cast #bohrhap #bohemian rhapsody

[caticornsrreal]

Fighting Dragons with You

After twelve years, I'm finally telling the internet why I love Taylor Swift🖤 

Hello, internet using world. I’d like to introduce myself to the few people who followed me. Hi! My name is Christa and I am a Taylor Swift fan with every fiber of my being. Full disclosure, this is a short novel so now is your chance to make an exit, but I hope you stay.

Taylor and my ridiculously furry cat, Lyle

(affectionately nicknamed “rent-free”), are the only two beings made of flesh and bone who have been consistent in my life for the last 12 years. With a close second being my son, Gauge, who just turned 10. I won’t get into the details (in this post) as to why that is, but let’s just say there were a lot of ups and downs growing up.

The last 12 years have been an evolution for Taylor,

and subsequently, for me. At (dare I say it) 

38 years old, I’ve found that a lot of things happen in a decade. Like, A LOT. Now, I don’t feel 38. I guess I owe that to humor, singing, dancing, sarcasm, and launching a successful career that didn’t exist 15 years ago —something that has made me always push harder to set new goals and stay humble. But one thing I didn’t do over these last 12 years that I deeply regret was starting a fan page for Taylor. I mean, ESPECIALLY since I’m a professional travel blogger who makes her full time living from digital content!

There’s been a lot of momentum over the last 12 years

—demands which left me with little to no free time. But I can’t blame my absence from the Swiftie family entirely on that. In fact, I’d have to say, I blame much of it on fear.

Fear,

of being misunderstood, fear of judgment or writing something lame. I’ve had over 2,000 articles published online and in print as well as countless social posts, but the thought of Taylor seeing something I wrote and thinking it’s totally weird (or cough, too long for the internet), well let’s just say I’d be less afraid of walking into a burning building.

Fear,

of being called a fake because the financial demands as a single mom left me little money to spend on myself or Taylor merchandise, much less tickets to a show. I’ve always placed my son’s needs before mine.

Fear,

that I was too old to be a Taylor Swift fan. I mean, I was 26 when she hit the music scene and she was what, 16? I’ve been afraid. Afraid I would be rejected by other Swifties who really are the only people who understand this love we have for her  —which is basically like being rejected by your own people. Also, it’s super weird to be following teens/young adults on social, much less engaging with them.

Fear.

Along with my fear, a perfect storm of entrepreneurial demands, single motherhood, failed relationships (one of which was a marriage), and family matters have served as a constant reminder that my dream of ever meeting Taylor takes residence on another planet. An actual trip to Mars seemed more attainable. 

I feel like there is a whole demographic of women, “Swiftie Moms” who echo my story,

having watched Taylor grow into the strong beautiful woman she's become. Women my age who love her from behind the wheel of their SUV, on the way to drop their kids off to school, on the way back from a milk run, in the dark hours of the mornings when they’re dancing in the kitchen with a full on hair bun singing into a coffee spoon. Unnoticed fans who haven’t had the time to dive head first into the Swiftie Universe. But here I am. After all the fear and all the years...

So, why?

This is a hard one to answer. I guess you can say that after many years of challenges, judgment from others, and doing the complete opposite of what logic and reason said I should  —divorce, single motherhood, a second degree in my late twenties... risking it all to start a blog (which by the way in 2013 wasn’t even considered a side job much less a career), I kind of got to a point where I became

fearless.

I had to be. I had this tiny living, breathing human being who was counting on me at the very least, to give him a life a notch above the shit show I had growing up. Not to mention parenting —which is basically wandless wizardry pulled directly from the asses of parents. It demands that your mini human grows up to be a better human than you.

Yeah, unpack that.

Take all your collective shit, figure it out, and then teach your mini to do it better —to BE better than you at love, kindness, respect for others (especially boys respecting girls), integrity, money, and to be fearless. All while giving them the comfort of knowing that you, mom, have it all figured out... even when that couldn't be farther from the truth.

Top that with the pressures of working in the public eye

—which, while on a microscopic level compared to a full-on celebrity such as Taylor, is still very much a juggling act with none of the entourage to lighten the workload. Add to it the demands of working with national brands, and the unwavering ability for other bloggers to tear you down at any opportunity, or even worse, try to get close to you so they can raid your success like a Black Friday sale.

I found myself at the peak of my blogging career

but I was consumed by fear, AGAIN! Fear of shady AF bloggers and publicists, and so much to lose. And fear that now, thousands of people would have an opinion of me formed by jealous bloggers, and they didn’t even know who I really was. 

That’s when letting go of toxic people in my life became essential

—when, no matter who they were, or how I was tied to them, I had to realize that surrounding myself with the ones who lifted me took precedence over the ones who dragged me down. 

After all that..... I learned to give zero f***s about what people thought, or what they said behind my back. 

And I had to start caring about what made my heart happy, what made my family and friends smile, and what inspired me to do better. BE BETTER. Be the example of fearless, with the hope that I was lucky enough to stay that way. But I'm a vulnerable human made of heart and soul and sometimes people can still take the best from me.

I had to be fearless.

In August of 2017 when "Look What You Made Me Do” blessed my ears for the first time, I felt it pierce my skin and course through my veins. And to the very bones of this young 38-year-old Swiftie mom, I was shook AF! I sang, I danced and I drowned out the haters in the blogging world. She had a very clear message,

She had zero f***s to give, Taylor broke the internet.

After watching the seemingly endless myriad of shade thrown at Taylor over the years, my heart erupted with happiness as her flawless first single from Reputation revealed one BADASS BITCH. And with every music video release of her new era, she became a mythical Goddess with bullshit evaporating superpowers. Like, I legit think she’s an actual unicorn. After all, she does ride a caticorn named Olivia.

She got harder, she got smarter in the nick of time

One single post on my Facebook page praising her new era and new single she brought with it attracted a slew of hate speech, white people bashing, claims of Taylor ripping off Beyonce... I couldn’t believe the things I was reading from fellow bloggers. I even had a GLOBAL BRAND threaten my business relationship in their ambassador program because I stood up for Taylor and spoke out about the hate speech which was placed on my own personal Facebook page. But I stood by my words.

Fearless.

Over the following months into early 2018, and to the tune of, “This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things”, I, along with a slew of about 20 other bloggers, ended up taking down said global brand’s publicist who was using his budget and power to demean and sexually harass female bloggers (which would later reveal that blacklisting me was more about not buying into that bullshit rather than my voice on hate speech).

Zero f***s given to those haters.

Mythical Goddess with bullshit evaporating superpowers level officially achieved for Taylor, and even for me. Although I wouldn’t call myself a Goddess. That's all Tay. 🖤

She found love through the noise

And so did I. In November of 2017, I had approached the year anniversary of the greatest love I'd ever known. My last stop. And as the tracks played on, my heart was full. We both found happiness through a seemingly endless sea of anguish.

Taylor is truly doing better than she ever was, and so am I.

Her resilience up against the media and the demands of the industry are perfectly fearless. And her decision to keep her beautifully growing relationship with Joe private is wise. I’ve spent the last year at home, which has been incredible. I’ve had a lot of time to think about what’s most important to me, what has shaped me into the mom, partner and entrepreneur that I am, and it all comes back to Taylor. That’s why it’s time for me to be fearless again and officially join the Swiftie universe.

I’ve spent 12 years fighting dragons with Taylor

and growing a canyon of respect and adoration for her charm, wit, business savvy, musical talent, feminism, compassion, tenacity, love for animals, and of course her lovely, lovely, words. I’ve raised my son from birth with her. There isn't a single day that is spent where Taylor doesn't exist in our lives. For 12 years straight.

That’s a long time to love someone who has no idea you exist.

I play her music videos and YouTube uploads just so I can feel like she’s with us. And so my son knows that she’s one of the finest examples of a human being in his lifetime. I use Taylor’s kindness to teach my son how to be considerate and give back to others while sharing her fearless story with him so she can be a positive role model in his life. Taylor has essentially been part of our family all along. 

My son Gauge has a running joke that Taylor is the only person that can make me cry

(which happens more than I'm willing to admit). And it’s not because I’m weak, or on the verge of a mental breakdown (although I challenge you to try parenting, you might argue that), it’s because I truly love her like a best friend. When I see her happy it makes me happy, when I feel her sadness, it makes me sad. It’s visceral.

I don't believe the human connection is meant to be one-sided.

I feel in my heart, as weird as this may sound, that we will meet Taylor one day, even against all odds. Existing in the same lifetime as Taylor without at least trying to meet her doesn't feel right. I won't look at my son and teach him to let fear and doubt win, or that defying the odds is an impossible task.

Over the years I’ve been a spectator to her outreach to fans. She’s invited them to sessions in her homes, sent them gifts, invited them backstage, surprised them in their homes, made hospital visits, and Lord knows what else she has up her sleeve. And it’s all been done with pure excitement and love for her Swifties. With each outreach she extends, tears of joy are shed for fellow Swifties, and a ray of hope inspires me.

So, I’m starting a personal blog

which tells a very personal story of all the dragons I’ve fought with Taylor over the years. From living in a car at 15 years old to getting invited to LA premieres for Walt Disney and Marvel films. And I'll have no apologies for the truths that will be told (but will change names for privacy). It will be very personal and some of it won’t be pretty. Because life isn’t always pretty.

Taylor is releasing another album this year... we hope,

and she’ll be on yet another tour in 2020. After 12 years I’m finally ready for it. I’ve given my son everything he could possibly want or need. I’ve bought him a beautiful home in Northern Georgia. He’s been able to travel the world and do things most adults haven’t even done. And I owe much of that to Taylor for giving me the strength to take major risks, the courage to face my demons, the balls to cut people out of my life who were toxic and the self-confidence to defy the odds and do things my way.

2019 is our year to show @taylorswift how much we love her.

I’ll let the universe do the rest. Till then, I’ll be fighting dragons with her as I always have and writing my journal for her and anyone else who wants to read the memoirs of an OG Swiftie mom who keeps it real AF, full-on hair bun and all.

#taylor #taylorswift #taylurking #taylornation #taylor swift #taylor13 #taylorswift13 #taylornation13 #fightingdragons #swifties #swiftie #tswift13 #deartaylor #dear taylor

[nifaswriting]

Hello ! First, thanks for all the great stuff you create, it's always a pleasure to read them ! ^-^ How would Luffy, Zoro, Sanji and maybe Robin react when they ask their s/o about their birthday date but s/o seems really embarassed (or even lie by inventing) because they don't know their own birthday date ? (Like they had a difficult past and they never met their parents so they don't really know the day they're born..? I'm sorry if it's not clear and if it's not correct >

Don’t worry! I understood it perfectly! Let’s do this and enjoy! (๑◕ㅂ▰)

Luffy:

- He blinks because he doesn’t understand why they are so embarrassed about it, like it’s just a birthday

- But when he understands that they are like this because they don’t really have a birthday, he pouts

- He wants them to have a day to celebrate, a day of their own like everyone else on the ship

- “I have decided that you will be born on the same day as me!!” “R-Really ?” “Yeah!! So that we can celebrate together!!”

Zoro:

- When he notices that they don’t have a birthday, he stares at them intensely, trying to see if they are joking

- “You really don’t have a special day ?” “No… I didn’t know my parents so I can’t tell when it is…” “I see…”

- He doesn’t say anything but he decides that a day, the same every year of course, he will offer them something

- In the end, this day becomes (Name)’s birthday, making them happy about it and Zoro can’t help but smile every time

Sanji:

- It’s not something normal like, his dear lover needs a birthday like everyone else, they deserve it!

- After they explain that theydidn’t know their parents and that’s why they don’t have a birthday, he feels sad

- "You need a date! It’s a special day and it’s going to be your birthday!“ "Okay… But what date ?” “Hmm… Today ?” “Why not…” “Nice… Oi! Nami-san, Robin-chan and the others!! It’s (Name)’s birthday!!”

- He makes sure that every year, this day is perfect and that they won’t regret any one of their birthday

Robin:

- She listens to them the moment they explain why they don’t have a birthday, her book closed and looking at them

- She nods, understanding and she smiles sweetly at them, telling that if they don’t want one, they don’t have to get a special date

- "You know, it’s not that important… It’s a day to celebrate your birth but if you are not comfortable with it, there is no need to have one…“

- But, Robin ends up offering them something one day and repeating this every year, even if it’s not their birthday

#one piece luffy #mugiwara no luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy headcanons #luffy scenario #luffy imagines #zoro imagines #zoro headcanons #pirate hunter zoro #roronoa zoro #sanji imagine #sanji headcanons #sanji scenarios #sanji vinsmoke #nico robin #robin headcanon #robin scenario #robin imagines #one piece scenario #one piece #one piece imagines #imagines #one piece headcanons #headcanons #scenario

[har-rison-s]

Tiny Dancer - Five

A/N: Hope whoever's reading this is enjoying it. Personally, 40s Bucky is so sdnfsjfh cute, I can't. I try to write him as good and accurate as possible. English isn't my first language, so squint your eyes for any grammar mistakes/misspelling. Happy reading!

This is getting a little hard to write now. I hadn't calculated what writing this all out means.

The funeral was arranged by... someone, I don't know, I took the first company that came my way, I didn't really want anything to do with it. My father's death. If only I had any other relatives, except for my dad's brother who I rarely met, who could settle this all instead of me. 

My heritage had been confirmed. I had gained not only money from my father, but also his place in the family company. He produced musical instruments - guitars, violins, microphones, etc. And now I got his role - the owner - in it. I was somehow delighted for the first time since his death. I had the hands to do anything I wanted to. 

I actually still own the company, and I’m trying to change my employeés every time I change a city to live in. They never want to leave, and I know why, I perfectly understand. The money's good, you get bonus gifts and even failed-to-finish musical instruments and parts of them, everyone's nice to each other and the boss (me) is the best boss you could wish for. But it's crucial every few years. I could never tell anyone my secret, God knows what would happen. No one, absolutely no one, can know about my true nature and... fate, I guess. Forbidden.

I'm not even the front-woman of my father's and my company. It's my secretary. A woman who was born in 1920 and has been my secretary since I was... back from HYDRA, totally back. It was around the fourties, I think? Anyway...

Our house was empty since my father died. 

Silent. I hated it. I hated silence, always have. And it became my daily companion. Soon after I got so irritated and angry that I bought a radio, and I turned it on everytime I was home, or home alone, at that. I wasn’t exactly satisfied with what the programmes were giving me in terms of music, but as a silence-repellent, it worked very well.

Sixteen, owning a company, a house, attending school, dancing ballet in operas and living in a house alone. Mother died at giving birth, and father committed suicide, no other relatives known. Quite the package, wasn’t I? And to be alone in my pain and burdens was not easy to live with. Horrible to bear it.

I offered Steve to live in my house with me, so he nor I would live alone. I hated coming home to nobody, no one, nobody making any noise. When my father was around, he wasn’t making that much noise, but at least there was a sense of life in the house. And Steve was all alone too, no sisters or brothers and both his parents gone. Just like me. But Steve wouldn’t take up my offer. I asked him why.

“You’re living alone, too.” I say to him softly. We’re sitting on a park bench in the sunlight, still shining in September. We're glad it is, neither of us really miss the crispy winter air and coldness. Summer has been—in weather terms—very kind to us, blessed us with some days of joy at the seaside or Coney Island. 

Currently James is off to get us all ice cream. It's not quite the temperature for ice cream now, but where we are sitting, it feels like you're on a frying pan. And we'll be sitting here for a long time, at least until the sun sets. 

“Why wouldn’t you want to move in? It’s lonely.” I admit. “For the both of us.”

Steve sighs. “I’m certainly not the one you should be choosing to substitute your loneliness with.” He says and looks up at me with a faint smile. I give him one in return before looking down, realising what he means.

“Yeah, you’re right.” I admit. “But if I spend all my time with him, I will get tired of James, won’t I? And where would be the fun in that? I'd just get sick to my stomach if I have to see his face every morning that I wake up.”

We both chuckle. I'm joking, of course, and I think we're both laughing at the joke and the possibility of me getting sick of Bucky. That's where me and Steve meet. Humor. And, in later years, I found that motivational speaking was also a common thing for the both of us. 

“I bet.” He replies. “But I can’t move into your house.” The skinny teen shakes his head, looking down. “I don’t have any money to pay my half of the rent with.”

I roll my eyes in no seriousness and push his shoulder gently. Only slightly, cause I'm afraid if I push too hard, the fellow will just fall off the bench. “You won’t have to, Steve.” I say, leaning closer to him and searching his deep eyes. “The house was bought long ago, we don’t pay rent. Never have.” I state. Steve lets out an inaudible sigh, he knows I'm right and he should agree. “What is it, really? What’s the reason you won’t take my offer?” I ask, leaning back onto the wooden bench. It's already heated up from the few seconds my back wasn't leaning against it. “It’s the least I can do to help you. What if the neighbours find out you’re not eighteen? They’ll call the police and take you to a children’s home, what will you do then?” 

Steve hangs his head low. “Don’t do that, Scarlett.” He says. “That’s… That's emotional blackmail.” I can’t help but laugh at his use of words to describe my helpful offer. 

“No, it’s not!” I defend myself. “I’m trying to help you. Please, take my offer. I will feel hopeless otherwise. And rejected.” I show him fake puppy eyes and Steve only pushes me away.

Steve shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Scarlett.” He says finally and looks up at me. “I won’t do it. You can’t make me.”

I huff and watch his eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. His eyes are sincere and true. Steve doesn’t lie. He’s always true to everyone, even if it hurts. This time ain’t no exception. He’s too good for his own good. And I understand why he won’t take my offer. It wouldn’t feel right. 

”Now, now, Stevie,” we hear Bucky's voice coming from the direction he disappeared into. We turn our heads to see him now with three ice cream ones in his hands instead of empty ones, “don't you go flirting with my girl.” 

I smile at him, taking the vanilla cone from his hand and trying not to be too obvious with the heat tainting my cheeks because of his nickname. My girl. Steve takes his ice cream from James, though the bigger boy challenges his friend a bit first. Steve gives him quite a sorry look and Bucky gives in, letting Steve take the cone.

”It's never too late to try.” Steve jokingly replies to his best friend and all of us laugh warm-heartedly. I try to think of something I could say while we admire and start to dig into our ice creams.

”Actually, you know what, James?” I start to say and he looks at me with raised eyebrows and a light brown brush on his nose. It made me giggle, but I didn't tell him until the very end of the evening that he had mushed his nose into his chocolate ice cream, “I'm gonna have to think our relationship over. Steve's quite the competition.” I say and raise my eyebrows, licking my ice cream. 

The two boys glance between each other, trying to understand if I'm serious or not—since I said it so matter-of-factly that anyone could believe I truly meant those words. But when a snort comes out of my mouth, they know I can't hold back laughing and so we all do. We laugh for such a long time that our stomachs start to hurt and our ice cream has almost melted completely.

Steve was really a righteous person. Never bended to anyone’s will, suffered even if he has a chance not to. What a weirdo, I thought when I first realised it. I was about eleven that time. Why wouldn’t you run from trouble? He was too self-righteous, I guess, never gave up on anything he thought was the right thing to do. He took pride in what he did, never realised that getting beat up in almost every Brooklyn alley wasn't a success. But, I liked his bravery and always admired the not giving up and standing his ground. Always thought that I lacked of those. 

Getting ready for my father’s funeral was no fun at all. I never liked wearing black clothes. They just felt heavy and I felt like they dragged me down. The colour is still dreadful to me. I like soft and light colours, flowery themes, all of that. I always dress that way, blouses, skirts and dresses. But black has never been my style.

I had one, the only one. A black dress with lace all over. It had sparkles, here and there because of the thirties fashion. It was uncomfortable. I mean, the fabric was alright and it wasn’t uncomfortably tighter anywhere. But it was just the porpose of the dress that made me uncomfortable.

My father’s funeral. And funerals in general. I promised myself then that this would be the only funeral I attend until my own. Who knows now if that will ever come around…

I hadn't decided what to do with my hair. Although there was this one hairstyle my classmate was wearing that I thought would be so beautiful with my own hair. She told me how to do it, and I wanted to make it someday for a special occasion. And I did. It was mine and James' first date. And then... when my father's funeral came around, I didn't know what to do with my hair.

I didn't want to leave it free-falling as I usually do, because, well, that's what I usually do. I didn't want to make a ponytail cause that wasn't the fashion then and it would be too casual. Braids... I thought about that. But eventually, at the last moment, I didn't have any other options except the hairstyle of the first date. I really didn't want to make it, because it used to remind me of such beautiful memories and moments and now it would only remind me of grief and death. So I changed it up a little.

Originally, you have to make at least two braids in your hair and then twirl them together and tie them down to the top of your head to make a nest? A bun? But I didn't put it on the top of my head. I put it very low, just where my hair ends. And to me, that made all the difference.

I'm looking at myself in the mirror too much. It's actually something that I never do, mirrors are just for quick check-ups or fashion shows with myself. I don't spend more than five minutes looking at myself in the mirror. 

I’m tugging on the dress everywhere my fingers get to, and it’s unnessecary. The fabric will soon be unusable, stretched and pulled at places. I’m fidgeting. Nervous. Not what I am, not what I'm supposed to be. My shoulders are supposed to be higher, my back more straight than it usually is, chin up and a smile on face. God, I can't do that today, I can't smile. I just... have to survive this one day, I have to be strong. 

The dress looks fine, honestly. If I'd look objectively at it, I'd notice that there's nothing wrong with it, no glitters have fallen off, not one spot looks stretched out. But the dress would look much better untouched, hanging in the closet.

I try to touch up my hair even though it doesn't need touching up. And suddenly the most important pin slips out of the hair bunch on my head and all the others follow suit. It was the last one I put in that held together each previous pin. And now everything's ruined, my hairstyle is falling out. I should have secured everything a bit more strongly. I shouldn't have touched my hair at all... 

I’m gasping as I try to save it all, twisting and turning in a squatting position in front of my mirror. The pins are falling behind me and the twisting around is making em very uncomfortable. My hands are flying all around me to gather the pins but I can’t see them on the dark floor. I let out a loud whimper of despair as I fall down on my bum, and can't help but start to cry. Oh, I hate crying.

“Scarlett?” The door of my room opens and James slips through. His eyes search for me in the room, but he can’t spot me in the far end of my room, behind my bed, actually having a panic attack on the floor in front of my mirror. But once he hears my whimpers and sobs of sadness, he spots me and rushes over.

James is wearing a nice, dark suit. He looks lovely, the complete opposite of me. His hair is pushed back with the help of some gel, but as he bends down to my level, strands of it start to fall out. To me, it looks better and I even want to stop his hand that pushes the fallen strands back in place.

I think of how I look before him now. I have probably cried all my mascara off and it’s running down my cheeks, blended with tears, looking like black, horrid rivers. My hair is a mess, I’ve lost all my pins and I think the heels of my shoes are starting to break. My face is pulled into a scowl because of crying.

“Scarlett.” His soothing voice speaks. I cry harder and he sits down next to me, puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer. “What's wrong, doll?” He asks in such a soothing voice, it almost makes me cry harder. 

“I-I can’t do it. I can't go out there.” I say between cries. “Everything's ruined. My makeup is completely ruined.” I state. At that, James chuckles. 

“That thing don’t matter.” He replies. “We can clean it off.”

“No, I have to have it on.” I protest. “I already put it on for this day and I can’t just leave my face like it is.” James huffs and stands back to his feet and helps me do the same. I lean up again on my wobbly knees and he immediately helps me find balance - one hand on my waist, the other holding my hand. Just like dancing.

“Darlin’, when I tell you that you don’t need that, you listen to me.” James says in a serious tone of voice. He's tipped his head down a bit, looking at me through his lashes. “It’s your father’s funeral day. Everybody already knows how much you're hurt inside, and covering that up with something fabricated is worse. Nobody will even care how you look today. It’s only normal if you look like you’ve cried for weeks.”

His words make sense to me. I don’t hear myself histerically crying anymore, and I'm not breathing rapidly, either. I don’t really know what to say to him, but then my voice speaks before I can come up with words. 

“What about my hair?” I ask. “I’ve… I’ve lost all my hair pins on the floor, and I had such a beautiful hairstyle and now I don’t know how to do it again and—“ My breaths start to pick up their pace again.

“Scarlett, it's alright.” James stops me. “Your hair is beautiful, look,” he takes a strand that's fallen over my shoulder and raises it up so I can see it, “you have the most beautiful hair in New York, and in the world, I'm sure. Look at the waves, look at how it's curled from the braiding.” There's a hopeful smile on his features and it makes my lip quiver. How do I deserve this? “I can take out all the otha' pins and you'll go with your hair like it is.”

"But I had such a beautiful hairstyle, I have to make it again, it was—”

“Almost the one you had on our date, yes, I know.” James nods and I look at him. He really remembers? “It's alright, doll, you can make it tomorrow and the day after and for the rest of your life. But you can forget about it now, alright?” His eyes ask the question, as well. “And you are in no state to clean your own face. I’ll do it for you.”

So he sat me down on my bathroom counter and cleaned my ugly mascara off. I didn’t speak while he did, and I didn’t feel like I should have spoken. Who knows what I was supposed to do then.

James takes one of the small white towels I leave in my bathroom cabinet and wettens it with water. I watch his hands as they come up to my cheeks and then my eyes divert to his. He'd never helped me in such a feminine way before. And I was so glad that he was the one cleaning my face.

His eyes showed such determination. And his hands were soft, his movements were slow and gentle, his touch was caring. I wouldn't have touched my face like that. I would've rushed it all, practically beaten my cheeks and left them in a splotchy red color. But James was much more gentle and careful with my skin, since it wasn't his. I guess everyone's much more careful with what isn't theirs. Maybe most people.

He gives my cheeks and eyelids one last petting with the warm cloth and retracts from me, washing the towel. James leaves it on the surface so it can dry easier and turns back to me. “How are you feeling?” He whispers to me, stroking my cheek with his thumb. I lean into his touch willingly, my eyes closing. I can't really give him an answer. I don't know how I feel, to be honest. “Do you want some water? Water with sugar?” He suggests and I shake my head. 

I reach out to his hand with mine and he lets me pull him closer to me. James looks in my eyes as if asking something, and I only nod. That something was to kiss me. And so he does. And it's slow and gentle and just... calming. Just what I needed. And I feel like doing it forever. 

He lays kisses on both my reddened cheeks and then returns to my lips and then presses a kiss to the very tip of my nose. I giggle, I actually do, and he draws back from me quick enough to catch a glimpse of my smile.

“There's that smile I was looking for.” James tells me and laughs, his whole face lights up with love and warmth and achievement, as well. It's what he was going for - making me smile. I love that about him. 

My arms wrap around his neck and his hold me close by my waist when I let my head fall against his chest. I could fall asleep in this position, and I want to badly. But I have to go out and honor my father in front of people I mostly don't know. His old friends and colleagues. 

I hope to find people I know, or should know. Any relatives I haven't had the chance to meet, maybe? A long-lost sister or cousin? I have to do this, and I can. So I let Bucky help me get off the bathroom counter and put on more comfortable shoes and go out. He walks with me.

What an angel he was. Sometimes I couldn’t believe that he was there, with me, helping me and talking to me. No matter what had happened, James knew what to say. Was there, whatever the situation. Just like he was for Steve. Bucky was our angel. I didn’t think I deserved an angel. Not even now. Although I wish that I had one, either by my side or watching over me.

I don’t know, maybe it’s because he’s always had both parents and three siblings. Maybe that's the reason he was so good to us. He knew how to take care of people, he knew what to say at the right moments. And he hadn't even studied psychology at any point in his life. Now I really can't guess why he was such an emotionally intelligent person. But I guess the family life and experience from it gave him a lot. 

I trusted him to be there for me always, maybe I trusted too much, was asking too much of him. But he never let me down. He always came when I called. And I also wondered how he always had time for everything, for everyone. His family, Steve, school, me, and occasional work. He was perfect in everything. 

And what we had was perfect - the relationship, the remaining friendship between us both and Steve. My life was as perfect as our relationship, despite my father being gone, and I thought it would never end. And it didn't, until right after the funeral. 

My speech was alright. Of course I teared up, and I hated it, I still hate it. I hate crying in front of other people, no matter who they are and if they understand or not. I don’t like being seen vulnerable in the eyes of many. But well, that day… was quite the exception. There were many excuses of why I was crying, and people I didn't even know comforted me (James, of course, outed them), but I still hated it.

I didn't even know half the people that showed up to my father’s funeral and voiced their greatest condolences to me. Not one friendly or familiar face that I had seen. Everyone spoke to me after the ceremony and before the ‘feast’. I think there were a hundred people, in total. 

A while later I found out that the folks I didn’t know were my dad’s colleagues and associates from work, his friends. There were also some of my mom’s friends who I’d never met. They came to talk to me, propose some options about living spaces, offer anything they could. They'd also tell me about my mom, things about her I'd never heard from my dad. They made me even more sad.

“I’m s-sorry, it’s been a… quite a hard day.” I say between sobs. I’m cleaning off my tears with a handkerchief and I feel someone walk up to me from the left. From the grip of their hand on my shoulder I immediately know it’s James. Millie looks at him as I turn my body into his, and Bucky's arms come up around me. My tears wetten his blazer. Weak, I am weak.

“No, I have to apologise. I didn’t mean to sadden you, that was not my intention at all.” Millie says. She’s one of mom’s old friends or best friend, in her words. I have many questions yet to ask her. For example, why did she never visit me or my dad? Why did I never know her?

“What happened?” James asks softly, looking between me and Millie. I sigh.

“This is Millie, one of mother’s friends. Millie, this is James, my, uh, my boyfriend.” i introduce them to each other. “Millie just told me a few things about my mother.” I say and smile at her warmly. My tears are gone, but they’re not far from coming back, either. 

“Oh, I see.” James says and smiles at Millie. “Nice to meet you, even under these drastic measures.” He says and Millie extends her arm towards him, wanting to shake his. But James turns it and places a kiss on her palm. Both me and Millie chuckle. “That’s the right look, princess.” James says to me, cradling the side of my face in his hand gently. I blush slightly and lean into his chest even further.

“Alright, I’ll leave you two.” Millie says. “Bye, love. Take care.” She says, wavering her fingers at us. I wave back and she smiles before walking away, her shoes clicking against the ground as she does.

I also met my father’s parents, which I had never before met in my life. I didn’t know I was missing them until I met them. They were sorry that they hadn't met me before, but explained it as 'difficult family matters' being the reason why. 

Grandmother asked me about the house and I told her I lived alone. At first she was totally against me living completely alone and wanted me to come live with them, in Chicago. But I couldn't yet trust her so well. I couldn't abandon the life I have here, either. Then she sufficed with telling me that if I ever needed anything, anything at all, they’d be there to help and support me. I told her thank you. 

I know you're probably asking why I never offered James to live with me. I should have, oh, I should have. But he had a family he had to take care of. He couldn't just leave them all alone. We joked about bringing them all to live in my house. Well, a joke it was from James, not from me. I gave the thought a lot of seriousness. Later on, years after, we, well, actually, it was only me who decided that Bucky and his family would live in the house. It's big, like a mansion, his little brother had said. “It's a princess palace!” Lizzie, his sister told me when they all arrived.

I guess the mundainity and obviousness of James having a busy family life was the reason why I never offered him to live with me. His family is very important to him, in his case, blood was thicker than water. He always told me stories about his siblings and parents and I could see how much he cared for them. Other families/people wouldn't go the length he did for their families and relatives. 

He was quite the opposite of me, actually, just like Steve. We had both lost our parents now and never had a sibling. Completely alone, used to loneliness. But Bucky had it all - friends and family. Nor me nor Steve can say that we didn't have friends, because we did. He had me and Bucky, and I had him and Bucky. But there was always something missing from both our lives. And family gives you most in life, it shapes you as a person, teaches you a lot and gives you knowledge and experience that nothing else could.

I thought I saw my father’s younger brother sneaking around the funeral, too. Now, of course, I know it was him for sure. Then, I didn't remember precisely what he looked like.

I didn’t know him very well. I only knew his name - Robert. I had seen him with my father occasionally when I was younger. I didn’t know who he was, what he worked as or why he was detached from his own family. It was what my father had told me, he had also told me that he and Robert didn’t share the same mother, Robert had german blood in him. I'm not sure now, he looks similar to my grandmother. Or maybe I'm just rying to convince myself they're not step-brothers...

I was never curious to find out who he was and what he had as a job or… profession, if I could count it as a profession now. He didn't seem the family I wanted to have. I may seem arrogant to you by this statement, but he didn't seem the right guy. My grandparents - yes, maybe, but not Robert.

Many people had left me gifts which were a little hard to carry, so me and James called a taxi for each of us to get the gifts back to my house. They all barely fit inside the two cars which really surprised me. Why had people bought me so many gifts? I didn’t need that many things, I needed nothing at all except for my father, the leading figure in my life.

James stayed over that night. It was the first night ever that he stayed at my house. I had been to his house many times before then and stayed a couple. It was a lovely atmosphere there, in their household, with the three siblings still living there and his parents rushing around so everything would be nice and comfortable. Especially when I was around, but it seemed a bit excessive to me. I could tell they wanted to make a nice impression of themselves on me, but I never needed nor wanted one. I liked them already because they were good and caring people, very much like James himself. And they were the ones that gave James to this world.

We laid in my bed awake for many hours that night, could be until the clock hit two or three. I couldn’t sleep and, because James didn't want me to be alone, he didn't sleep, either. To keep me company. But I knew he secretly wanted to sleep because he was quite the heavy sleeper back then.

We talked a little here and there, but mostly there was silence between us. Only the gear wheels in my head turning slowly and heavily, with such resistance. I was thinking hard about everything, trying to decide something, at least. Something to say.

For once, I liked silence a little more than I usually do. I liked silence when I was with James. Neither of us speaking, only breathing and listening to each other's heartbeat. His arm around me, hand caressing my hair and his chest under my hand and beneath my ear so that I could hear his heartbeat. Well, maybe it wasn’t complete silence, after all. Hearing his heartbeat gave me comfort and inner peace. It was something I could listen to all my life, those steady beats of the heart I desire still against my ear drums.

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I know these seem like fillers now, but I promise you’ll understand why they’re needed and the real thing’s coming soon ;)

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[baronessblixen]

can you write something happy? maybe with the three of them? set in some indeterminate future? or an au? i'm drowning in post episode angst. which is great but help need fluff.

Anon, I tried. This is not as fluffy as I wanted it to be. I fear there’s no fluff at all. I really did try. It’s yet another post-ep for “Ghouli”.

Tagging at @today-in-fic

On their way home Scully cradles the surveillance tape inher arms like a baby. Her fingers dig into the plastic afraid to let go foreven one moment. Mulder glances over every once in a while, unable to utter asingle word. His own fingers tingle, his lips twitch. As soon as they‘re homehe is going to make copies. Those few minutes with their son are all they havenow and he is going to make damn sure they‘re not going to lose even a singlesecond of it.

Scully is quiet in the passenger seat as exhaustion tightens its grip onher; Mulder keeps glancing over making sure she is comfortable and once shefalls asleep, he slows the car, makes sure she gets to catch up on some muchneeded sleep. It might be his own own exhaustion that’s slowly seeping into hismind and his eyes, but Mulder has the distinctive feeling of being followed. Hechecks his rear-view mirror every few moments, but whenever there is a car inthe distance it is not the one he wants to see. Wishful thinking, he tellshimself. William, or Jackson, is not going to follow them. Their son is on hisown way, on his own route to somewhere. Mulder glances over at Scully, fastasleep. There is no regret this time, not even an inkling of it. He smiles,thinks of their son. He wonders what kind of music the boy will listen to,where he will decide to stop the car, what he will do. Mulder wishes he couldwitness it, be there. Some things however are not meant to be. 

By the time they get home, it is dark. Scully doesn’t wake as Muldersteers the car over the popping gravel and parks by the porch. He doesn’t wantto wake her. Her face is relaxed, seems happy. What if she’s dreaming aboutWilliam? Watching her sleep is an indulgence. She’d kick his ass if she knewabout it. That thought alone makes him smile. 

“Scully?” He says in a gentle, quiet voice. She stirs, but doesn’t wake.Mulder unbuckles her seat belt and the click is loud in the car. Scully sighsin her sleep, holds the tape in her hand more tightly. 

“We’re home, Scully.” A soft kiss on her cheek and a smile appears onher face. “You just have to wake up.” She grumbles, grunts. “Fine. I can carryyou inside.” Mulder gets out of the car and opens the door to her side. Tiredeyes and a smile blink at him.

“Here,” she hands him the tape, the plastic warm against his fingers,“let’s watch it again.” 

Mulder doesn’t know how often they watch it; they keep falling asleep,wake up and stare in wonderment, before sleep captures them once more. But now,shortly after 2 am, Mulder is awake. He tears his eyes away from the screen, awayfrom his son and Scully. He knows the sequence by heart already and yet itnever fails to amaze him. Mulder walks into the kitchen, yawns and scratcheshis chin. His mouth is dry and he pours himself a glass of water. As he gulpsit down, he sees it: there is something, someone, out there in front of thehouse. Mulder doesn't know where his gun is. But somehowhe feels calm, feels like he doesn't need to protect himself after all. Hesteps through the front door unarmed and hopes it doesn't squeak. He is in lucktonight.

Darkness out here is something he had to get used to back then. Now heknows it, can navigate in it easily. There is a car right next to his hiding inplain sight. Mulder recognizes it; how could he not? He's only seen it ahundred, no, a thousand times flickering over the screen tonight. His heart isso quick, so loud that he fears he will frighten the boy away. But as he comescloser he sees him there in the driver seat fast asleep. Mulder watches for amoment in disbelief. William, or Jackson, whatever he wants to be called –their son – is here. He is here at their house, in his car and sleeping. Justlike your mother, Mulder thinks and smiles.

He's seen this face often now; so often in fact that it feels familiar.He knows this boy, this young man. At least in his heart he does and that'senough. The boy licks his lips in his sleep and then, as if he's never even beenasleep, wakes up and blinks up at Mulder. No matter how often he's seen thevideo, this moment does it no justice. If he thought he knew this boy, and hedid until five seconds ago, he was wrong. The eyes tell him everything. They'redark now (but Mulder knew that), but still Scully's. The color doesn't matter.He opens his mouth and says something. Maybe his son's name. The boy furrowshis brows and throws him a shy, lopsided grin. They stare at each other, twostrangers yet father and son. William's mouth moves, but Mulder can't hear anywords. The boy laughs and Mulder wishes he could hear it. He needs to hear it. Comeinside, he thinks. William stares at him through the window, their eyes meetingthere.

"Come inside." He repeats louder this time. The boy doesn'tmove. If he starts the car and drives away, Scully will never forgive him.They've lost him once, twice, and if he counts the gas station then it makesthree times. He is not going to let go of him a fourth time. He gently knocksagainst the window, smiles. There's a dad joke here, he thinks. Later, maybe.Hopefully. 

"Come inside." Mulder says. He almost screams it into thenight. A moment passes, but Mulder doesn't lose hope. Not when it comes to his son.The car door opens with a soft click and a longer creak. The last time Mulderwas this close to William was a few days after his birth. His small, gentle bodyfit perfectly into the crook of his arm. Now the boy, the young man, standsbefore him, looks him into the eyes, and is only a few inches shorter thanhimself. 

"I went into the other direction first but… this was the only placeI wanted to go." Mulder nods as if understanding. He reaches out his hand,but doesn't quite dare touch the boy.

"You're always welcome here. Always."

"I shouldn't be here. My parents," he looks at Mulder, pausesjust a second, "my other parents are dead because of me. I don't even knowyou. I don't want to put you in danger." His eyes move about quickly, likea scared animal's. Mulder takes a deep breath, bridges the distance and toucheshis son's narrow shoulder. Still a kid. His son, after all he's seen and done,is still just a kid.

"We can protect you. We will." It's enough. For right now, for2 am on a cold day in Virgina, it is enough. They walk side by side, theirsteps matching, inside the house. Mulder wonders what the boy sees, thinks. Hewon't ask. Mulder puts his hand on his back and he doesn't startle. Scully isstill asleep, oblivious. The screen shows her and William at the gas stationand Mulder hears his son gasp. 

"We thought it's all we would ever have." 

"Mulder, what…" His voice wakes Scully. Though from her faceMulder can tell that she thinks she is still dreaming. He stares at their son,then at Mulder briefly, before her eyes fixate on the boy again. "You'rehere. You're really here." She gets up as if in slow motion and then shetakes the young man into her arms, holds him tight, as if he's done it a milliontimes. They're mother and son; they're no strangers.  

"Welcome home, Jackson."

"That's not who I am anymore," he says, stepping away fromher, "That is not the name you gave me. Is it?" 

"No, we called you William." Mulder says and the boy looks athim, mouths the name to try it out.

"We'll call you whatever you want to be called." Scully saysand throws Mulder a look. He can't help but grin.

"Is that like an inside joke I don't get?" William wants toknow; he is William now, Mulder thinks. Their son. Their perfect miracle babyalmost grown up. But only almost. Tonight is an interlude; they will have todeal with the boy's trauma, losing his parents, his seizures. The end of the world.But that's for tomorrow. They will have to get to know each other all overagain. A few days make him no father; the year Scully spent being his motherhas never been enough. They can start tonight. 

"I'll tell you all about it." Scully says with her voice fullof promise. They sit together on the couch, all three of them, without a singletouch of awkwardness between them. It's the way it should have been from thestart. Mulder hears his son's laughter finally, sees Scully's awe on her face. Tonightit's enough.

#yeah i hate it #which is why i wanted to stay from more ghouli #but here we are #i am so sorry #i promise some baby william fluff soon #i hope someone finds some joy in it #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic #Anonymous

[vahnikana]

Grave Matters.

We went to my mom's grave on Sunday. I'm going to say this right at the start and get it out of the way: graveyards are extremely peaceful places. We have not built my mother's grave as yet. No construction, not even a wooden cross with RIP and her name and dates of birth and death painted on it. In fact, we had to ask for the plot number of my mother's grave at the office. After she passed away a year ago, neither my sister nor I visited the cemetery. My sister has been struggling with anxiety and health issues, which she now realizes resulted from not allowing herself to properly process my mother's demise. I mourned fully and deeply but I had PTSD and the thought of returning even to our home in the city brought on panic and depression. You can imagine we did not have the emotional and mental wherewithal needed for that visit. But now a year has passed by. We're calmer now. We've made peace with so many things. We're stronger. And since it was her death anniversary, we made that trip. I looked at her grave lot, overrun with weeds and anonymity, and I thought of my mom. She would be so disappointed in us! She. The person who wanted everything to be done properly and as perfectly as possible would be shaking her head at us. My sister and I said a prayer, cried a bit. My sister apologized to her for all the trouble she had given her as a teenager cos she is now feeling the full heat of having to manage a rebellious teenage daughter. We then discussed what kind of a grave we should build her. Since she is buried in the Covid section of the cemetery, we can't buy that plot and we can't build anything permanent on it. In fact, we can't breach the ground surface at all as the Covid virus stays alive underground for 5 years. So we can just construct something above the ground. We chose the only kind of a design that can withstand impermanence: a cement base and bricks arranged in a square ridge around the edge with an open mud center where you can plant something. I suggested we build a garden arch above the headstone and train some easy growing, perennial and resilient flowering creepers over it. Morning glory or something similar which would look pretty. We paid some guy in charge to build the tomb and send us photos. A fortnight later, we'll go across and choose what to plant at the center. We were thinking money plant, because, as my sister joked, God had blessed my mother abundantly when it came to finances! If plants were financial representations then I'll probably get dandelions planted on my grave. I'm really looking forward to how it will turn out though. I was feeling really bad because we could not bury mom in the family grave. But if we can make this place lovely, then I'll be happy. And I made a decision. No matter how it turns out, I want to be buried where my mother lies, not where the rest of my family is. When it's all done and over, I'll go back to her.